#be tripping into a pool with your nice clothes on

[communistmeme]

If you, as a man, aren't at least A LITTLE wet and pathetic, you'll never escape the dms

[kitashousewife]

“yes, rintaro?”

“hi-jesus, a warning next time would be nice,”

“you called me,” you huff, picking at the now dried mask on your face in the small reflection of the facetime. “what do you want, rin?”

suna is outside, walking rather quickly as the background is blurred around him. he lets out an airy laugh before looking at the screen.

“i’m drunk;” he smirks, continuing to walk but tripping a little, shaking the camera. you raise your eyebrows at him to continue. he sniffs. “and i’m coming over.”

“is your house broken or something?”

he giggles, then shakes his head. “nah, yours is closer though.”

you sigh and accept defeat. you knew your best friend was in the neighborhood from his social media posts, so it’s no surprise he’s deciding to drop in. it’s late though, well past midnight. you shuffle into your bathroom to rinse off the mask, setting your phone on the counter.

“when will you be here?”

he clears his throat and swallows. “i’m walking up the stairs, so 2 min-fuck-minutes,” he trips up the steps and groans.

“what? okay give me a minute, i’ll be right there,” you wash off your mask quickly and run to the door, realizing too late as you slide on your socked feet that you’re only in a t shirt, suna’s t shirt. you open the door to find a very intoxicated suna, leaning against your with heavy eyes and a smile, which turns to a frown when he sees you.

“hey, that’s mine,” he taps the collar of your shirt before pushing past you, slipping off his shoes and throwing his coat on the floor.

“you reek, rin. god, where were you?”

he smirks. now making himself comfy on the couch despite your protesting glares.

“the club a few blocks away, it was packed and-“ he hiccups. “y-yeah it was just busy. aran was there,”

“don’t fall asleep on my couch,” you tap his leg as you walk past, tidying up a little. he opens his eyes and sits up, slumped into the cushions. “how do you feel?”

suna doesn’t answer. he scrolls on his phone at full volume, completely ignoring you while chuckling at the different videos he comes across.

one of the worst things about your best friend was how stubborn he is normally, but that stubbornness triples when he’s had enough to drink.

you stand in front of him with your arms crossed for a few more seconds before you clear your throat. he finally looks up and waves.

“rin, why don’t you-“

“so yeah, aran was there and-“ he laughs at something on his phone, losing his train of thought.

“how about you take a shower?”

“no,” he pouts again. “why don’t you take a shower?”

you huff. “i’m calling aran to get y-“

“i think i’m going to take a shower,” he grunts, standing up and following you to the bathroom while you grab towels for him. when you finish turning the water, he begins to lift up his shirt.

“uh-uh,” you laugh to yourself and slip out the door, pulling it shut. “you can do that in private. take your time, i’m going to bed.”

“but what if i wanted you to see?”

you stutter. “y-you’re drunk, rin. just shower, please.”

you hear him clamber into the shower soon after and retreat to your bed. as you settle in, suna’s comment continues to nag at you. sure, he jokes around and has his fun with you. but in the many years being his best friend, he’s never made any sort of effort to make a move on you.

you feel dizzy, suddenly picturing suna in a way you had never before. it felt like jumping off the high dive and into water all at once.

“what am i supposed to wear?” a very wet suna waltzes into your room with a towel on his waist, and you wish you could jump into that pool right now. you can’t take your eyes off his torso, eyeing the defined muscle as they flex with every step.

“there’s s-some of your clothes here from last time, they’re clean i just forgot to give them to you,” you jump out of bed and rummage through your closet before handing him his belongings.

“oh cool,” he walks back to the bathroom, bumping into the wall on the way. you slink back to bed without another word.

just as you’re drifting off to sleep, your mattress dips.

“hi,” suna breathes, getting under your covers with you.

“what are you doing?” you hiss, voice a whisper. he stares back at you with an irritated look.

“painting a picture, what does it look like? i’m going to bed,” he huffs, pulling your covers over him and leaving your legs exposed to the cold air.

“rintaro,” you pull the covers back over you and he groans. “i don’t want to hear it! if you’re going to sleep in my bed at least share.”

he remains quiet, making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. meanwhile, your heart is racing and your mind is fighting between being bothered and pining over your best friend.

“did you use my shampoo?”

“of course i did,” suna’s voice is tired as he finally settles in. “the extra stuff you gave me sucks. and you smell good so thought i’d use it,”

your heart skips a beat. you don’t say anything, though.

your eyes get a little heavy, mind finally relaxing as the heavy sounds of suna’s breathing lull you to sleep.

the next morning you wake up next to your best friend, blinking a few times before you get a good look at him. he’s resting against the pillow, your blanket pulled up to his bare chest while he scrolls on his phone.

“good morning rin,” you mumble, yawning and sitting up. “did you sleep okay? are you feeling today today?”

“slept great,” he mumbles, eyes not leaving his screen. “i feel okay. head hurts,”

you nod, handing him your water bottle and an aspirin from your bedside table which he happily takes.

“thanks for letting me stay here by he way,”

“of course,” you watch as he sits up, blankets falling to his hips and showcasing his muscles once more.

“i feel bad that you had to deal with me,” he looks you in your eyes and for some reason, it feels different from normal. you shrug.

“i don’t mind.”

he smirks and gets comfortable once more, but begins typing on his phone with a giggle.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothing,” he smirks at the screen. “i just told aran we slept together, though.

“rintaro!”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia takes you on holiday

The first time Alba and Alexia went on holiday with each other was when Alexia turned eighteen.

Suddenly, she had independence and some adult money to blow on frivolous things so she took Alba to Ibiza with her.

You got left at home because you were still very little and going to the beach and tanning was not something you enjoyed.

Instead, with both of your sisters in Ibiza, Mama took you to the beach near the house and you did fun things like building a sandcastle and eating your weight in ice cream.

Mama made a weekend of it and you were certain you had a much more fun time than Alba and Alexia did. You couldn't imagine laying in the sun and sleeping the day away with fruity drinks could be much fun or, at least when you were younger you couldn't imagine it being fun.

Now though, as a teenager that was also an athlete, you enjoyed you sleep. Naps were an important part of your routine. You came home from school and napped before getting up to go to your training. Then you would come home and nap until dinner.

It was good routine. You liked your routine.

You didn't like having it interrupted at three in the morning by Alba shaking you awake.

You blindly bat a hand at her. "Go away." You roll over onto your front and bury your head in the pillow. "Five more minutes."

"You'd already said that," She says," Come on, get up."

"No."

"If you don't get up now then Alexia will be up with a bucket of water. Then you'll have to get up and change your sheets. Come on, up!"

You groan loudly, muffled by your pillow before forcing yourself up.

The only reason you agreed to going on Alexia and Alba's sister holiday was because you thought you could relax. But, with Alexia in charge, you should have known that would never be the case.

She'd booked the flight for six forty-five leading to this three in the morning wake-up call so you dragged yourself out of your body and changed into some plane comfortable clothing.

It was barely an hour's flight from Barcelona to Mallorca so you've no idea why Alexia insisted on the stupidly early flight.

Either way, you drag your suitcase down the stairs and flip your hood up in an attempt to show your protest at the early morning wake-up call.

Alexia pulls it straight back down.

You flip it up again.

She pulls it down again.

You reach to put it up. Alexia's stern look stops you.

You kick her in the shin.

"You kick like a baby," She says, sticking her tongue out.

"I'm going to bite you."

"Ah," Alba says wistfully, throwing her arms around each of you," Just like old times!"

Alexia grins and ruffles your hair. You pretend to be annoyed.

You manage to have a small nap on her shoulder on the flight over and then get rudely awakened by her shaking you.

The villa is nice though and it's even nicer when you remember Alexia is paying for absolutely everything.

The house has a pool and a shady spot for naps and a big inflatable sword that you're going to use to smack Alba when she annoys you. It's near the beach and is only a ten-minute walk or so into town.

All in all, you're actually quite happy to be on this trip with your older sisters, even though Alba shoves past you to claim the room you wanted as her own.

The sun is nice and hot and you close your eyes for your midday nap as Alba floats around in the pool and Alexia paces around on the phone to her girlfriend.

It's nice and peaceful and sleep comes easy to you.

You don't know how long you've been sleeping by the time Alexia wakes you up by squirting cold sun cream onto your back.

You shriek, flinching away but her strong hands follow you and you can feel her rubbing it in.

"Ale," You whine," I don't need any."

"You do," She insists, working it more furiously into your skin," I got the strongest I can find."

"But then I won't tan!"

"Good. Tanning can cause skin cancer."

"You tan!"

"I don't have delicate baby skin," Alexia says and you turn your head back to look at her in disbelief," Skin cancer is scared of me."

From the sunbed next to you, Alba scoffs. Her face is covered in sun cream that hasn't been rubbed in yet. Clearly, she was Alexia's first victim.

"I don't have delicate baby skin!" You insist.

"Yes, you do." Alexia bats your arms away. "Mama made me promise to make sure you two wore your sun cream which means no tanning oil and no fighting me on it! I'm the oldest. I'm in charge!"

"You can't be in charge of me," Alba says," I'm an adult."

Alexia thinks for a moment before nodding. She prods you in the pack. "You're a baby so I'm in charge of you."

You groan. "This is so unfair!"

"Life's unfair," Alexia says impassively," Now, stay still. I might have missed a spot."

You're pretty sure she dumped the whole bottle on you.

Alexia's a hoverer. She always has been and she always will be.

Her arm is slung around your shoulders as you make your way down the street to find some food. She's insisted on getting you a big floppy hat to protect your face even though she's completely drowned it in sun cream.

"I'm kind of craving seafood," Alba says," Seafood and pasta."

You nod. "I want pasta too."

Alexia nods along. "Pasta sounds good."

"I want dessert as well," You continue.

"That's such a good idea!" Alba agrees quickly," I could kill for some warm cookie dough right now."

You nearly drool at the thought. "With whipped cream."

"And caramel sauce!"

Alba grabs your hand, pulling you out of the security of Alexia's arm and starts sprinting down the street, to where all the restaurants have lined up their menus for the night.

You allow yourself to be dragged, easily keeping pace with her.

You turn to look behind you. "Ale, come on!"

Alexia catches up in record time, grabbing your other hand.

"Seafood, pasta and cookie dough," She laughs," I want dough balls too."

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"dressing up" - hotch x fem!reader

you and aaron get ready for a party at rossi's

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! preestablished relationship! besides that... none? enjoyy

1620 words

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

Another soirée at Rossi’s - red wine flowing liberally from vintage bottles, unless, of course, he’s serving acqua puzza. There will be talk of work, as always, but it will shift once Penelope smacks both palms on the table and demands a change of subject. You’re betting she'll make it thirty minutes, especially after last time, when Spencer rattled on about the particular species of earthworm he saw in a corpse. 

Rossi always demands that everyone dress nicely, too - it’s a dinner party, after all, he often says with that leisurely shrug of his shoulders. That’s why you haul ass after work to your favorite upscale boutique. You need a new dress - you wore your red one to the last two Rossi parties, and though they were roughly a month apart, you still feel guilty of being an outfit repeater. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with buying a new dress, especially if it gives you that New Outfit Self-Confidence. 

Unfortunately, though, your shopping trip after work, plus the crowd on the Metro, means that you’re running dangerously behind by the time you reach home. 

You flurry in like a tornado, kicking off your sensible work flats and haphazardly tossing everything in your hands, with the exception of your shopping bag, onto the couch on your way to the bedroom. You hear your stainless steel water bottle fall off the couch and onto the hardwood with an obnoxious clunk, and grimace as you fly into the bedroom. 

Your boyfriend sits on the cedar hope chest at the end of the bed. He’s bent at the waist, tying his shoes. “I was just about to call you,” he says by way of greeting, looking up and sideways at you as he hunches over to loop the black laces of his loafers. “You’re running a little late, honey.” 

“Thanks, Aaron, that’s super helpful,” you spew sarcastically, setting the boutique bag on the bed. Unceremoniously, you tug your dress pants down over your tummy and your hips, then step out of them, kicking them to the side. Aaron’s on them in an instant, like a cat with one of those laser pointers, scooping them up off the floor and tossing them into the laundry hamper in the corner. 

“We have to be there at seven-thirty,” Aaron reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest. For most people, that’s a sign of displeasure. This is just Aaron’s default stance, though, and you can tell he isn’t annoyed. He’s just anxious about being tardy. 

“Baby, I know,” you snap. You love that he’s always punctual - five minutes early is already ten minutes late, he always says. Generally, you can abide by that rule. The cards are just not in your favor today. 

Aaron’s palms are held up as a white flag. “Sorry,” he says, then looks around the room dumbly. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You’re sliding the new dress on - luckily, you already had your shapewear on for your work clothes, so changing is no big deal. The dress is a lovely forest green, with golden flowers, embroidered as if they’re growing up from the bottom hem of the skirt. You smooth your hands over the bodice, and finally meet Aaron’s eyes. 

The sunset is leaking in through the blinds, catching his profile and gilding his irises. You could swim in those deep pools for hours, searching for treasure. Your annoyance has dissipated completely after one look at him. “Can you cut the tags off?” you ask him, your voice a low whisper. 

Aaron’s gliding into the en suite, to your vanity, in an instant, a testament to how whipped you have him. He’s searching for your manicure scissors, and his back is turned to you. His suit is black, different from the gray one he wore to work today. This one is just slightly more fitted, and your eyes travel shamelessly over his rear, admiring, with a dropped jaw, just how sculpted it really is, a testament to how whipped he has you. 

You lift your arm when he returns, watching his eyes as he delicately snips the tags off the armpit part of your dress. He’s so careful, like he’s performing brain surgery, and you want to tease him for it. But there’s no time.

When Aaron’s moving back to the en suite to throw the tags away and put your scissors back in their place, you have to force your feet to shuffle over to the closet. You select a semi-comfortable pair of black heels. They don’t perfectly match your dress, but you typically end up taking your shoes off after dinner, anyway. 

Aaron’s watching from the bathroom doorway as you snap on your heels. His ever-observant eyes follow you as you step past him into the bathroom. You run the comb through your hair, and touch up your makeup quickly, carefully applying a winged eyeliner and lipgloss to elevate your look efficiently. Aaron’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your nose playfully.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you float over to your dresser to select a pair of earrings from the jewelry box Aaron got you for your birthday. Gold hoops soon adorn your ears, and you pull a golden chain necklace from the jewelry box, complete with a charm in the middle that looks like a knot. 

You take the necklace over to Aaron, and without saying anything, you stand before him, back turned. He gathers your hair in one hand and sweeps it aside. “Hold this for me,” he murmurs concentratedly, and you reach your hand up to hold your hair out of the way for him. 

The need to rush out the door has suddenly vanished into thin air. 

Aaron’s breath is warm on the back of your neck. You feel goosebumps appear up and down your arms as he brings the necklace around. His fingers are ginormous, so you hear him fumble a little with the tiny clasp, but he finally snaps it in place. His thumb and forefinger trail along the chain to bring the knot charm to the front, so it rests in the center of your collarbone. 

You release your hair, and as it falls, ticklish against the back of your neck, Aaron steps around in front of you. A small smile twitches from his lips and you feel your knees wobble a little beneath you. Why does he have to look at you like that? You’re supposed to be in a hurry. “You look like Christmas,” Aaron says quietly, like maybe he didn’t mean to voice the thought, like maybe it just slipped out. 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You laugh breathily, feeling your cheeks go pink. 

“It’s a very good thing,” Aaron assures you. His fingers close around your wrist, and he’s tugging you in for a hug. You wind your arms around his neck just as his find your waist. He’s crushing you to him, constricting you in the best way possible. 

“I thought we were in a hurry?” You ask, pressing your glossy lips against the column of his throat a couple of times. Your kisses are viscous because of the lipgloss, and you know you’ll have to wipe it off his neck, but for now, you don’t really care. This is the first moment you’ve had with Aaron since waking up next to him this morning.

You inhale, your nose nudging against his neck. He smells like an idyllic autumn lake - pine, rainfall, leaves. 

Aaron’s grip around you tightens a little more, and you feel his nose nuzzling into your hair. “We can be a couple minutes late.” 

He’s not wearing a tie, you realize, as you pull away from the embrace. Your palms lay flat on his chest, straightening the collar of his white dress shirt beneath the black jacket. The top two buttons are undone, revealing the smallest bit of chest hair. You quirk your brow up when you meet his eye. “No tie?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “No tie,” he confirms. “Going for laid-back, super casual.” 

“That lines up with your personality,” you snicker, licking your thumb and using it to wipe the lipgloss off his neck. 

“Do I look like Magnum, P.I?” He asks as you step back. He straightens his jacket. 

You burst out laughing. “Absolutely not,” you giggle, and Aaron rolls his eyes. “You’re not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, nor do you have a mustache,” you remind him, taking his hand. His fingers trail along your palm before twining with yours. 

“I could grow a mustache,” he proffers, his lips a straight line, the closest thing he does to pouting. 

You lead Aaron out into the living room, shaking your head and laughing. “No, baby, you look like James Bond,” you tell him, letting go of his hand and reaching over the back of the couch to grab your purse. You sling it over your shoulder. 

You catch Aaron looking at himself in the ornamental mirror on the wall and smirk. “I think I like that better than Magnum, P.I,” he muses. 

“It is better than Magnum, P.I,” you shrug, heading for the door. You feel Aaron’s hands on your hips from behind just as you reach for the doorknob. He squeezes your hips and kisses the back of your neck. “Aaron,” you whine a little, just as Aaron guides you to the side for the sole purpose of being able to open the door for you. 

“Come on, honey,” he teases, facing you in the open doorway and tugging your hand. “Rossi’ll be mad if he has to wait on us to serve appetizers.”

Edit: read "dressing down" here

[sanjifucker42069]

Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Sanji x Reader

Word count: 854

We gender-neutral and short af today boys. This is crack treated semi-seriously lmao, and an actual drabble. I love idiot!readers, there isn't enough rep for us dumbasses. This is written with OPLA!Sanji in mind bc I dig the super effective suave vibe

Suggestive, there's swearing, the word cock is used once. Brief description. (Ha! Brief!)

Let's be real...Sanji might wears shirt stays....and that's hot as fuck

It was midday when you found yourself outside the men's quarters. You had been lounging around on the upper deck when Usopp had asked you to grab a wrench he'd left in his room. Fair enough, you weren't doing anything, wouldn't hurt to help. And so you padded off, making your way to the bedroom. It was the middle of the day, no one should be in there. You'd passed Zoro napping against some bags, you could still hear Luffy. Sanji definitely had to be in his domain of the kitchen. Still, you offered a quick courteous knock as you flung open the door to the men's quarters, wandering into the space with no preamble.

"Sorry boys, I gotta grab Usopp's- Holy shit!"

Sanji's head shot up to stare at you, cheeks lightly pink. He was stooped over, pants pooling at his knees. Sure, his thick thighs were enticing, and his position stuck that gorgeous ass out at a delicious angle, but your eyes were fixated on the crossing fabric that adorned his upper legs. Was that…a garter belt? You felt lightheaded at the view before you. He looked delectable. The cook quirked an eyebrow at your staring.

"See something you like, love?" He drawled, sending you a cocky grin. Sanji felt his ego swell when you tripped over your words. Had you actually paid attention, you'd notice how his usual clothes were covered in flour, but you weren't exactly the most perceptive.

"I…thighs." You spoke dumbly, causing you to mentally smack yourself. "I mean, sorry. I didn't think anyone would be in here at this time." 

With great hardship, you tore your eyes away from the garment. It looked like a garter belt, had to be! You always knew Sanji liked fashion, and that he could be a pervert, but you didn't expect him to be unembarrassed at being caught wearing lingerie. As if they were possessed, your eyes trailed their way back to his thighs. The elastic was biting into his thigh meat, bulk deliciously spilling over the edges. Saliva flooded your mouth. What you wouldn't give to touch them. To bite them. Fuck what if you-

Wait. 

Sanji had said something.

"Wha?" 

Nice going idiot.

Sanji had abandoned his grip on the trousers, gracefully dropping them and stepping out of the puddle of fabric. Your breath hitched as he turned to you.

Abort mission! 

Fuck you didn't even look at his underwear. Shit, fuck, that…that was clearly the outline of his cock, a pair of grey boxer briefs doing a horrible job at hiding his silhouette. You were thankful that the length of his dress shirt covered the majority, or you'd be due a visit to chopper from fainting.

"I said can I help you, love?"

An awkward cackle escaped your throat and you blushed. Oh, he could help you alright. Instead, you opened your dumb mouth again.

"Is that…why are you wearing a garter belt?"

Sanji froze. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Oh shit! Oh fuck!

You opened your mouth to apologise when that bell-like laugh permeated the awkwardness. 

"What?" He laughed incredulously. "They are shirt stays."

Sanji felt his heart squeeze when you cocked your head confused. You really had no idea how cute you were, did you? Trying to be polite and stop laughing, he coughed into his fist.

"They keep my shirt tucked in sweet thing. Can't be looking unprofessional around you cuties." Sanji winked, smirking with satisfaction as your face grew redder. He expected an 'oh' or a 'sorry'. He certainly didn't expect a;

"I'd call having no pants but lingerie on unprofessional."

"You were the one who bust in here!" He argued. "And it's not lingerie!"

"Ah…sorry about that. I meant to grab a wrench Usopp left in here. I…uh…I should go."

"Mmhmm." 

You wandered stiffly to where Usopp slept, finding the tool with ease, and trying desperately to not look at the cook. Sanji watched you, amusement clear on his face at your robotic movements. Wasting no time, you rushed back to the door. 

"Oh, uh, Sanji?" The man hummed in response. "I, uh, I'm sorry for thinking you were wearing lingerie. Not! Not that there's anything wrong if you were, you'd look hot in it. I mean! I….uh…no, you'd definitely look hot in it. What was I saying?"

Silence. Sanji was staring at you with wide eyes, face now red from your comments. You clicked your fingers.

"Right, right! You should probably put some clothes on. Don't want you catching a cold ha ha." You forced out a robotic laugh. "Sorry again."

You slammed the door shut, leaving a confused and slightly aroused man in your wake. Sanji sighed, making his way back to his sleeping area to change into clean clothes. The door creaked back open. Sanji groaned quietly. Who now?

"You have to admit, they are kinda slutty though, right? Sorry! Bye again!"

You were gone before Sanji could even process your words properly. He groaned audibly this time, raking his hands down his face. He needed a fucking smoke. You were going to be the death of him.

[brewed-pangolin]

Ribbed for Her Pleasure

A/N: I can't recall who I saved this Soap photo from. If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit. 💛

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, filthy banter, car sex, slight exhibitionism

Thank y'all for being patient. Seems like the writers block has started to lift a bit, and I'm finally back to indulging myself in Soap filth. Enjoy a nice road trip that turns into an exciting sexcapade. @glitterypirateduck I decided to flip the script on this one. I can't say no to Soap being a menacing tease. @waves-against-a-cliff thank you for sending in my first 🛞⭕💢⭕💢🛞, hope you like it.

Love y'all. And happy Super Soap Sunday!

WC ~2k

4Runner Soap loves to tease while driving on extended road trips.

--

It's subtle at first. His warm hand resting on your thigh as you ramble on about nothing and everything under the sun.

He'll steal a few quick glances of your expression to attempt to gauge whether or not he's having the desired effect on you.

If you meet his steely gaze with equal growing intentions, he'll keep his hand resting on your thigh with a loving squeeze as his attention returns to the road ahead.

Yet if you show no reaction to his ministrations, continuing your verbal regurgitation of the weeks events, he'll have no choice but to press onward. His one hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel as the other moved further down ever closer between your thighs.

You feel his hand meandering ever closer to your clothed heat, but pay no mind to him. Only pointing out the next exit as you once more embellish his ears with mindless and unending banter.

Unperturbed by your unwillingness to give in, he sets forth in motion the one move, his last effort against your resolve to force you to finally surrender to him.

You didn't notice the subtle shift in the vehicles trajectory at first. Too focused on your phone and following the tiny icon as it moved along the highlighted route on the GPS.

It was only when you heard the rumbling hum of the tires over the ribbed outer lines of the lanes did you finally pull your eyes and pull your attention to him.

Before you could utter a singular protest, his hand moved the center of your thighs and pressed his index and middle finger into the inner seam of your jeans. Enhancing the continuous feel of the vibrations reverberating under the metal frame as they culminated into the growing throb emanating within your swelling folds.

"Johnny," you whimpered in feigning protest as his fingertips rubbed over the raised center of your trousers.

"What are you doing? Pay attention to the-"

"Shu' it, lass." Soap barked back with a playful bite rolling off his tongue.

"Rest tha' mouth a'yers fer a minute, yeah. Or I'm gonnae 'ave ta put ta better use."

Words failed you as his thick fingers continued to push into the flesh of your clothed cunt. Still riding the jagged lines on the pavement, making you roll your eyes back and bite your lip to quell the muffled moan threatening to escape within the depths of your throat.

"Ya like tha', bonnie? Ribbed fer yer pleasure by th'roadside?" He mocked with a confidence that never failed to make you quiver.

Feeling your arousal pool within in the depths of your soaking heat as his fingers pressed firmly against your swollen folds. Only managing to moan in response, which further fueled his resolve with a guttural growl, pulling his hands away from your growing pleasure and immediately shifting to take the next exit.

"Johnny, this isn't our exit."

"Nah. Emergency stop. Got a full stauner 'ere, and I cannae focus on nothin' else except tha' sweet pussy a'yers."

You turned to face him, eyes glancing down to focus on thr growing tent in his pants. The sounds of 4Runner's engine revving mirroring the sexual tension between the seats as Soap veered the vehicle into traffic, his eyes desperate and focused on finding a secluded passage for some much needed privacy.

-

It took no more than five minutes to find one that met his growing needs. A meandering dirt road that ended against an abandoned fence with a rusted and weather tempered 'No Trespassing' sign.

You barely had a moment to unbuckle your seat belt as he made his way to your side of the SUV. Inhuman speed fed by an unadulterated need to take you, unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder with a huffing grunt. Only to be reciprocated by a piercing snicker, accepting your fate as he threw you into the flattened back of the cargo space and greedily began tearing your clothes away.

"Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?" Your pathetic attempt to reason with him only seemed to spur him further into a needy and unbridled rage.

"Fuck 'em. My need fer ya outweighs them bloody regulations." Soap spat back through gritted teeth.

Your exposed form laying out for him as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled frame that always seemed to render you speechless and begging for him.

Feeling the warmth of your arousal pool within your folds, spreading your legs to invite him in with a confident stare that mirrored his own hungry gaze.

"Steamin Jesus, look a'tha. Already fuckin soakin fer me, aren't ya, bonnie?"

"Always, Johnny. Nobody makes me wetter than you."

Soap's cerulean eyes swirled with glorious intent, flickering between your desperate expression and the glistening folds of encroaching conquest as he hastily unbuckled the confines of his trousers. Pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down to release his throbbing length, a subtle whimper escaping his lips to the cool air hitting his hot flesh as a stream of precum ran down the tip of his reddened cock.

"Yer always so fuckin pretty like this, lass. Spread out an' jus' waitin fer me."

His jaw tightened to sight of your cunt clenched around nothingness in reaction to his sultry brogue. Splaying yourself out for him like a sacrificial lamb while the deafening sounds of echoing traffic echoed from deep within the trees and rolled around the walls of your private encampment.

"Gonnae fuck ya good, bonnie," he purred lowly with a rolling timbre. Ever so slowly moving like a predator as he encroached and hovered over your flushed and exposed form.

The maelstrom churning within the depths of his eyes luring you to his turbulent sea of ecstacy, nestling himself within the crevice of your thighs as he aligned his hardened cock to the puckering hole of your swollen cunt.

"Joh-" your muffled attempt to calm his name was silenced as his mouth sealed over your lips. Piercing the fluttering walls of your pussy in one fluid stroke, bottoming out with a resonating growl while his hands found purchase under the soft bend of your knees.

"Put yer knees on me shoulders, bonnie." He coaxed, pulling away from your lips to guide the shaky limbs of your legs over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

The sudden shift in position moving him slightly within your tight walls as the greedy flesh of your cunt clenched around his turgid length. Rolling your eyes back with a hissing breath, hands flying up above your head to find purchase within the haul of the vehicle as he laid his dense and muscular form on top of your folded and contorted frame.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Fuckin' clench around me. Lemme feel how much ya need me."

As the sounds of his rumbling voice reverberated within your ears, he glacially pulled his hips back. Nearly pulling out completely before penetrating once more and filling the silken depths of your heat in one fluid and languid thrust. 

Forcing a gravelly moan from within the cavern of your chest, fingers wrapping around the metal frame protruding from the haul as Soap braced his hands on either side of your head and steadily began to thrust himself deep into your greedy hole.

“Johnny- aren't ya gonna close- the hatch?” you groaned, gritting your teeth while he picked up his pace. Steadily pounding his hips against your ass, his lips curling into a cocky smile while his eyes glinted at his mischievous intent.

“Nah, bonnie. Gonnae give em- a good show-” he crooned in response with a breathy growl. Disregarding your concern for the outside world, continuing to pound his cock into your welcoming heat as the creaking sound of the suspension began to echo across the shell of your ears.

You attempted to lift your head and catch a glimpse of the tree laden environment around you, only to be forced back down as Soap changed trajectory once more. Your mouth falling open with a silently pleasured protest as the thick head of his cock ran over a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within your cunt that only he had managed to find.

“Holy fuck!” Your voice hollered over the sounds of the croaking suspension, finally giving into the unrelenting ecstasy only he could provide. Arching your back against the carpeted floor of the cargo space, desperate to meet his powerful thrusts and aid in his direction while he maintained a steady, vigorous pace.

“Found tha’ spot. Didnae I, bon? Gonnae make a mess on me cock? Scream me name as I fuck ya real good? Clenchin around me like-”

“Goddammit! Shut up!” 

His unending banter had finally pushed your quiet resolve to the wayside. Reaching your hand feverishly towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around the chain of his dangling dog tags to bring his running mouth down to your lips and ultimately rendering him blissfully silent. 

Sinking your teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as you wrap your free arm around the back of his neck. Keeping his chest flushed against yours, a thin sheen of sweat forming between the sliding flesh and forcing only his hips to move as he pumped himself into the depths of your soaking heat.

The wet sounds of your pussy emanating off the plastic and fabric haul of his 4Runner, accompanied by the combined gasping breaths from your chests that formed into a blissfully erotic symphony. A duet only heightened by the most pornagraphic whimper you had ever heard against your mouth as his hips began to stutter and his eyes pleaded for his upcoming release.

“Steamin Jesus, bonnie. I’m gonnae come. Gonnae fill ya up.” Soap’s muffled words vibrated against the flesh of your mouth as your free hand gripped into the thick locks of his mohawk. 

Pulling his mouth away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Letting your lips seal over the top of his shoulder and silence the strained bellow from within your chest as your orgasm suddenly erupted and coursed through your veins like a violent blaze.

Soap’s hot breath cascading against your flesh with a guttural growl, his hands gripping to the carpeted fabric as he bottomed out in one final thrust and emptied himself against the spongy walls of your pulsing cervix. Pulling his trembling body up to let your legs fall and extend, the burn of over exertion flowing underneath your skin as an all too familiar ache began to form within the buried tissue around your pelvis.

“Jesus Christ, Soap. Where the fuck did this come from?” Your voice hushed in the grips of blissful afterglow, hands meandering to his temples while his body steadily began to collapse above you.

“Donnae know, lass. Thinkin maybe, it was them bloody reflectors.”

Reluctantly, Soap began to pull himself off your overly exhausted frame, only to be pulled back down by your clawing hands and laid his head against your sweat ladened and heaving bare chest.

“Not yet, babe. Just rest a minute.” Speaking in a hushed tone, you pressed your lips against the drenched crest of his scalp. Tasting the saltiness against your tongue and allowing your hands to gently run down the curve of his spine as you felt him steadily give into body’s exhaustion. 

“If you don’t rest, Johnny, I’m gonna have to drive the rest of the way while you sleep this off.”

“Haud yer weesht, hen.” He retorted, his brogue quiet and muffled against the supple flesh of your breast. Your lips curling into a smooth smile as you reveled in the gentle sounds of nature accompanied by the everpresent hum of distant traffic.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @ohgeesoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghosts-goldendoodle @shotmrmiller @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @tacticalanxiety @thetrashpossum @queen-ilmaree @sadstone-s @simpingoverquestionablemen @dustycrusty09 @foxface013 @haurasha @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend @luismickydees

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November

A/n: Did anyone ask for this? No, will I still rewrite this because I didn't like this the first time and came up with what I think is a better trope? Yes. I only meant to make Guns N' Roses and I panicked when people asked for Metallica but I don't want to come out bad so I hope people like this version better than the first :'3

Link to the original

Kirk Lars James Cliff

Metallica was making a new album but they'd barely worked on it at all and it was getting closer and closer to the date they'd set for it to come out, normally they'd just push it back but they'd already done that twice.

Their manager decided to stick them in a house together, thinking if they didn't have a moment apart they'd actually get work done.

You were their managers daughter and were definitely a fan, when you heard he would be moving in with them you had to come up with an excuse to move with him, you knew he couldn't say no to you with a good enough reason.

You were going to University and you said since it was almost summer break you wanted to visit him so you'd be coming down once school was out.

He hesitated, not wanting your summer to be spent in such an environment, but eventually let you because he'd found a place where you could have your own room. He wanted to let you have your privacy.

You couldn't be more thrilled.

And so, you packed up your clothes and some other essentials, said goodbye to your roommates, you had a flat off campus, and made a quick road trip down to L.A. where your dad was staying with the one and only Metallica.

Your dad welcomed you with open arms and gave you a tour of the house, showing you to your room so you could drop your bags before he introduced you to the guys.

They were all sitting in the living room in the back of the house, there was a wall of windows with a matching glass door leading out to the backyard, a beautiful green lawn with an underground pool all of it fenced in and overlooking a cliff. It was gorgeous but you were more focused on the four men all ogling you as you came down the stairs with their manager.

"I thought you said you were bringing your daughter?" The short one asked, you of course knew him as Lars Ulrich, the drummer.

You dad nodded. "Yeah, this is my daughter, Y/n." He said, gesturing to you. You gave a small wave, biting your lip to prevent the ear to ear grin that was waiting to break out.

"By daughter you meant, like, grown woman?" The blond, James, asked.

"Yeah, it's summer vacation and she wanted to spend some time with dad before she had to go back to University." He explained. They all took in his words, exchanging whispers.

The phone rang, a landline on a table not far from you. Your dad answered it, uttering a few words before he set it down. "Right, I gotta go, all of you be nice." He said, giving you a quick hug and apologizing for having to leave so soon.

He left and you waved the boys goodbye before heading upstairs to unpack some more.

They waited until they heard your door close before they started talking. "Jesus, who would've guessed." Kirk asked, keeping his voice low just to be sure you couldn't hear.

"Who the fuck cares, what the hell do we do?" James asked, keeping his eyes on the stairs where you'd just gone.

"Fuck do you mean 'what do we do'? What do you think we do?" Lars whisper yelled, looking like he just wanted to slap him.

"We can't fuck the managers daughter." Cliff said, fumbling with his hands in his lap.

They kept discussing it, all agreeing that nothing could happen.

Then you came back downstairs in a bikini, holding a towel and a bottle of sunscreen, ready to sit by the pool. You didn't look at them as you walked past but you could feel all their eyes on you as you swayed your hips.

"Twenty bucks goes to whoever can last the longest." James blurted, still watching you through the windows as you rubbed sunscreen up your arms.

And thus the bet began, whoever could last the longest without giving into temptation got twenty bucks, the four men throwing down five dollars each.

[ratherbefangirling]

Bts reaction: travelling together

KIM NAMJOON

He sees you as a long term partner so he considers paying for the trip an investment

Would love it if you keep him company while he packs. Plays music in the background. Asks your opinion about your clothes.

Packs an extra hoodie which he has noticed you love even though it's old and worn out.

When you're actually travelling you'll be keeping the important things safe eg his passport and boarding pass and the currency etc

He'll gladly let you be in charge.

That doesn't mean he won't help out whenever he can. He's always ready to talk to the information desk or anyone you need him to.

KIM SEOKJIN

Most likely to surprise you to a weekend getaway.

It's probably a stay cation at a cabin in the woods. In the soop vibes.

camping, fishing, barbecue, driving

He's got it covered.

You're probably going to eat well. And just reconnect with nature.

There is nothing hectic about the trip. Its very soothing. Just spending time with your favourite person.

Infact he's most likely to agree to involve your mutual friends or even non-mutual friends. It's about having a good time.

MIN YOONGI

The hotel is going to be nice. Swimming pool and breakfast buffet included.

You're going to end up going to a very obscure destination. You may or may not have heard of the existence of such a place but he's totally prepared so you can rely on him.

From medicine and guide books to emergency money. He's totally prepared..

Yoongi loves trying local food and local art/souvenir stores.

You're getting couples items. Will be sad if you loose them. Will treasure them forever

Wants to see the electrical appliances shop just to check out more music making appliances.

Totally do whatever you want to do. If you want to visit a lot of places he'll accompany you but if you just wanna chill he's equally happy.

JUNG HOSEOK

Mans a planner. So dont be too surprised if he plans everything like before and after.

You are going shopping before the trip. Matching couples pajamas and sheet masks and keychains and shoes (or maybe no shoes considering the Korean superstition that if you give shoes to your lover they leave)

He's packed and ready days before the trip.

Will judge you if your luggage looks dirty.

Probably prefers guided tours. You're going on every extra activity too.

Unless it's something scary. He's not going on a roller coaster. He'll take your picture though.

There's going to be a lot of pictures and videos. And you're going to wear couple outfits all the time.

PARK JIMIN

A lot of plans but just wants to lie down and hang out by the pool or a scenic place unless you have a set itinerary

But if you want to laze around will convince you to go out because you haven't spent all this money just to stay in a hotel room.

Will randomly pull you in alleys to steal kisses.

Loves walking around and shopping for souvenirs for everyone

Enjoys having you all to himself.

Will pout if you don't pay him attention.

Loves exploring the night life.

KIM TAEHYUNG

There for the vibes

Room service king

Expect odd hours, driving around a sports car, a whole lot of music and singing and dancing randomly.

Will serenade you impromptu

Very calm. Nothing can phase him..

Loves taking pictures of the scenery.

Enjoys the vacation thoroughly. He's swimming, snorkeling, making funny videos.

The only thing is he's not eating anything spicy. Likely half his luggage is ramen

JEON JUNGKOOK

Most likely to make a Travel blog

Will try to convince you to go to every thrill seeking activity. Meticulously plan a fun trip that can be enjoyed by both of you.

There will be Random gaps in that itinerary to lounge around

Despite everything he's a last minute packer his list of essentials is a bit unhinged. More like to forget a change of clothes than his speaker.

Laundry fairy 🧚‍♂️ ✨️ 💖

Very content to lounge around and just skip the itinerary.

Loves trying different foods and plans to make some at home.

[recklessmark]

Unfaithful

Summary: It doesn’t matter that you are Jeno’s girlfriend, you’ve always want something else. Read Part 1 Here

Pairing: hockey jock Mark x female reader

WC: 4k+

Smut Warning: heavy dubcon/noncon elements (don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, degradation

a/n: Mark is an asshole and you’ve been warned.

It took you more time than needed to realize why Jeno wanted you to be as far away from Mark as possible. He’s a menace to society, and a dangerously hot one.

You stood in the kitchen, mixing vodka and soda together for another drink. Jeno was at the pool, having fun with Haechan, Jaemin and Jisung. Johnny, Taeyong, Jaehyun and Yuta were outside, too, and they seemed to get along pretty well without the tension of the captains whenever they’re six-foot away from each other. You smiled and waved at Jeno when he caught your gaze through the glass door.

Averting your eyes, you downed the liquid in your red Solo cup before your boyfriend noticed how distressed you were at the sight of Mark sucking a chick’s mouth on the couch while she’s grinding his clothed dick like a bitch in heat.

The match had ended with a tie. Jeno would have lost if Mark hadn't missed that last shot. You’d been restless from the beginning, not knowing what end the championship would come to. Certainly, there would be a rematch another day, but you’re safe from the downfall of their bet for now.

But did you want ‘safe’?

With the alcohol buzzing in your system, the sight of Mark lewdly licking and sucking that girl’s tongue started to get too much for you. Images of you in that position crossed your mind. How you would run your fingers through his hair, how his hands would grab your ass instead of hers, how addictive he would taste.

You had been so busy lost in your train of thought that you didn't notice the group of kids stumbling towards you until it was too late. One of them tripped over your foot and before you knew it, the t-shirt you wore was completely soaked in beer. The kid squeaked out an apology before the group scurried away. You looked down at your shirt and groaned. There was no way you could just stand around here like this, not smelling like a distillery. Your only option was to find something to change into.

Pushing through the crowd of teenagers you made your way upstairs. Finally finding an empty bedroom, closing the door behind you. You looked around the room, taking in the mess of beer cans and empty cigarette packs. The room smelled of sweat and cigarettes, which strangely wasn't off-putting. This is the fraternity house of Mark and his team, so you really have no idea whose room you’re in.

Your eyes landed on the closet and you walked over, throwing the doors open. You pulled out a black Mötley Crüe shirt and shrugged, it would do. Whoever owns this probably wouldn’t mind. Pulling your own shirt over your head, you tossed it onto the dresser before pulling his shirt on. It was a little big on you, but at least it was dry...and it smelled weirdly nice. You pulled it to your nose and breathed in. Expensive cologne mixed with tobacco. A voice from behind you startled you out of your thoughts.

"You're going to have to give that back."

Spinning around, you found Mark standing in the doorway looking you over. How he had managed to enter the room without you hearing him, you weren't sure.

"Oh…sorry, I just needed to borrow it. Some idiot spilled beer on me. I'll wash it and send it back."

Mark just stared at you, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. You shuttered under his gaze before you stepped forward toward the door.

"Anyway, I should get back out there."

He made no effort to move out of your way, instead leaning more into it, his gaze still fixed on you.

"Mark? Can I go please?"

A smirk spread across his lips. “Do you really want to? I saw the way you were looking at me out there."

You raised an eyebrow, taking a step back and looking at him. "I was checking on Jeno."

Mark scoffed, dropping his arms to his sides and stepping towards you, closing the bedroom door behind him.

"Last time I checked, Jeno wasn't on my face, which was exactly where your eyes seemed to be fixed every time I looked your way."

"I…I was…well it's hard not to look at you when you're putting on such a big show out there."

He took another step towards you, causing you to step back away from him. "Oh yeah? You liked that?"

"Didn't say I liked it. I really have to go."

You stepped to the side and headed towards the door. Just as you reached for the knob, a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist hard.

"I didn't say you could go yet."

You tried to pull your arm away but his grip just tightened as he pulled you away from the door, shoving you towards the bed. "Mark, what the hell?"

"Oh don't play shy now, this is what you wanted isn't it?"

"You're drunk. Come on, let's go back out there."

You tried once again to push past the male, this time to have him stop you with an arm. He spun you to face him, grabbing your jaw roughly and making you look into his eyes.

"Don't think I don't see it, princess. The way you look at me in class. The eyes you make at me across the room at parties just like this. You want me, you just don't want your boyfriend to know his girl has fallen for the bad boy."

Shit. Had you really made your attraction that evident?

Truth was, you’d always had this huge feeling for Mark long before you started dating Jeno. Almost everyone on your campus knew Mark, and when your freshman year began, he was the first thing to catch your attention. You remembered clearly that he was leaning against a tree, sucking on a cigarette while you were eating your lunch on the grass, unknowingly close to where he was. Only when a girl passed by, flaunting her next-to-nothing clothes as she purred, “Looking uber-sexy, Mark Lee'', did you notice the notorious hockey captain. He then unleashed a rogue grin and a provocative whistle that made every girl who happened to be around whipped their head in his direction. You almost choked on your food there, as he was the sexiest man you’d ever laid your eyes on. Almost thankful that he didn’t notice you and terrified that you’d embarrass yourself if he ever looked at you.

It was at one of Mark’s games when you met Jeno. You were shocked that a man like him would be interested in you. To say he’s out of your league would be an understatement. One thing led to another, after a few weeks, he asked you to be his girlfriend and you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Jeno was kind, caring, and good-looking.

Thinking about it made you mad at yourself. You had a boyfriend that every girl could only wish for, and you’re still thinking about another man, who’s obviously a walking red flag. 

"Mark, let me go, I need to go check on…."

Before you could get another word out, his lips were pressed harshly to yours. The kiss was sloppy, and tasted like beer and cigarettes, but it still sparked something inside of you. He broke from the kiss, still gripping your chin tightly.

"Now you're going to shut up and let me do what I want with you."

"I…."

"Are you saying no?"

You should. You should say no, go back out to the party. You’d go home with Jeno, have dinner together, sleep on the same bed and forget about everything that happened today. But your mouth seems to run on its own.

"N-no…but you're drunk…"

"I saw the look on your face when it was a tie." He stares at you in the eyes, holding your gaze. “You look almost…disappointed.”

He pushed you backward towards his bed, and you let him. As you reached the end of the bed, you fell down onto your back, eyes fixated on the ceiling. This felt so wrong, yet so right. He dropped to his knees at the end of the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. They came to rest at the waistband of your pants. Your stomach was turning. There were so many problems with this. Mark was your boyfriend’s worst enemy, and even worse he was a fucking asshole. Your breath stuttered at the feeling of his hands on your legs. The pressure over the denim causes you to prop yourself up on your elbows and catch his eyes.

“Mark, please,” your words come out shakily. “This is wrong. Don’t make me do this.”

He ignored your plea, a wolfish grin plastered on his face. “You’re right, this is wrong. But I think you want ‘wrong’.”

He brought one hand up to your chest, pushing you back down to the bed. You let him, without an ounce of resistance. His hands moved back to your waistband, making quick work of your button and zipper. He pulled your jeans off in one swift motion before tossing them to the side.

You squirmed against the bed, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and trying your best to cover the lacy pink panties you had chosen to wear today.

“Such a pretty girl,” he chuckled at the sight. “But a really bad one, lying to everyone. Pretend to be a doting girlfriend when you’re nothing but a slut.”

He slid a hand between your legs, almost amused by your lack of restraint. You said no, but you made no real effort to get away from him. "Hmm, seems like someone is a little more eager than she wants to let on. Your panties are soaked for me already."

Whining a little, your arms came up, forearms wrapping over your face to try and hide yourself from the truth of it all. That Mark Lee was making you wetter than you'd ever been before.

Your legs shut around his wrist now, a feigned attempt at reinforcing that he was the disgusting one. He was beyond amused at this point. Grabbing your legs, he pried your thighs apart again and brought his face between your legs, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck, you smell so sweet."

Bringing his hand close to your clothed core, he hooked his fingers into the crotch of your panties and pulled them to the side. "Look at you. So fucking wet. Need to taste you."

You huffed out, knowing there was no way of really getting out of…this. Whatever this was.

“I…fuck, fine. But you’re not…. you’re not fucking me." You decided in a weak attempt.

You were panting a bit now, shrieking a little when he practically yanked your legs apart and shoved his face so close to your core. “Don’t...o-oh my god..”

And then his hands were on you, cool air causing your entire body to erupt in goosebumps.

“I...shit…”

Mark chuckled, your words just egging him on. Grabbing the top of your panties, he pulled them down, giving himself full access to your wet hole. "So fuckin' pretty."

His hand moved to spread your lips apart so he could get a perfect view. "Fuck."

Mark was practically drooling at this point. He almost came off as more needy than you. But he wasn't the one laying on a near stranger's bed, practically dripping. His free hand found its way to where you needed him, even though you would never admit it. Before you could even try to protest, his middle finger slipped inside of you. It was all happening so quickly. You could have sworn you didn’t want this. Could swear you're a good person, a faithful girlfriend. You're not currently in Mark Lee's bed, wearing his shirt and nothing else. His hands were enough to bring you back to reality. Your hands twisted into his bedsheets below you. The scent of cigarettes permeated your lungs and sent a rush of slickness between your legs.

“Y-you’re...We need t-to stop Mark. I’m… fuck!”

Mark's eyes were blown with lust, all the times he'd thought of this exact situation. You, Jeno’s girlfriend, in his bed. Let him do whatever he wanted to you. He could feel his cock start to throb in his pants. Sliding another finger inside of you, he slowly started to pump them in and out. Your slick completely soaked his hand, and soon the stubble that adorned his face as he leaned in and took your clit into his mouth.

“Oh my god!”

You screamed out the moment his lips touched you. That was it, you were a goner. Hips rolled back, a half-assed attempt at seeming to pull away from his touch. Choked out moans giving away your true wants and desires. Your body admitting to all those nights you wished your hand was replaced by his. And now, all those filthy, perverted dreams were coming true. Your eyes started to water over, a lump growing in your throat now before a sob rippled through the room… you'd begun to cry. Overwhelmed by the shame, and how fucking good it felt.

“D….don’t stop, please.”

He smirked against your clit. He'd won. He knew you'd give in. His tongue swirled around your clit as his fingers started pumping into you harder and faster. If there was one thing Mark was, it was a giver. Before he went any further, he wanted to make sure you came for him. He made it his mission to make you come undone with just his mouth and hands. You could already feel it starting…that aching burn in the very pit of your abdomen. Body flushing hot and eyes fluttering shut. Feeling overwhelmed already from the few minutes with the blonde between your legs. How long has it been? Three weeks? A month and a half? A long time. It’s been a long fucking time. A shaking hand inched down into the soft mass of loose curls. Your nails weaving through till they scratch at his scalp.

“Fuck…shit, Mark…”

Your hips began to achingly slowly rock against his face. Minute movements that were just enough to amplify that growing high. He could feel your walls getting tighter around his fingers, a telling sign of your impending orgasm. Not even a full ten minutes, he was impressed. Hooking his fingers against the spongy spot deep inside of you, he started sucking on your clit a little harder, his tongue flicking back and forth as he did so.

“I’m…m…Mark...m’gonna..*”

You were so close, so fucking close. At this point your own hands were betraying you…trying to pull his mouth closer despite it being physically impossible. Your crying never ceased, only slowed down to occasional whimpers and sobs while tears slipped down your cheeks. Mark pulled off your clit with a wet pop, just long enough to whisper.

"Cum for me." Then he attached himself to your clit again, fingers starting to brutally assault your sweet spot.

“Fuuckkk! Shit! Mark!"

That was it, your vision went blurry and a mix between a sob and a moan ripped through your throat as you climaxed around his fingers. Thighs coming up around his ears and caging the poor bastard between them. Chest heaving and falling rapidly as you attempt to come down from your high.

He pulled off of your clit, sliding his fingers out of you. Prying your legs off of him, he sat up and looked down at you. "Look at you. You're a damn mess and I'm not even done yet."

Grabbing you by the chin, he leaned in and licked a tear off of your cheek. "Poor thing, already fucked out from just my fingers. Now the real fun begins."

Grabbing your hand, he brought it to his crotch. His cock strained painfully against his jeans. "See what you've done to me? Now, you've gotta fix it."

His grip on your chin pulled your attention back. A shocked gasp leaving parted lips when you felt his tongue drag across your cheek, flinching back a bit at the hot, wet streak left behind.

Unknowingly, you pulled your hand back from his own but stopped when you realized just how hard he is. “Wait..What? No, we’re not doing this.”

"Oh? You thought this was just about you? Silly girl." He smirked, letting go of your hand to move down to his belt buckle. "You think you can just look like that and I'm not going to want to fuck you?"

He quickly undid his belt buckle, and then the button on his pants before he kicked them off, leaving him in his boxers. The outline of his length didn't leave much to the imagination. He was huge to say the least, something he prided himself on.

A look of concern washed over your face. This was really happening wasn’t it. If Jeno found out, you’d be beyond fucked.

“Looking like what? It’s not my fault some drunk douche spilled his drink all over me. I didn’t exactly bring a backup…. change of clothes…” Snarky words slowed to nothing as your eyes trained on his hands, working rapidly at his belt and jeans till he was in just a thin pair of boxers.

“Shit..Mark, I don’t think.."

"Roll over and get on your hands and knees. Now."

Your protests fell on deaf ears. His barked command made your thighs squeeze together. Swallowing hard and shifting up onto your arms so you could roll over. Ass pushing high into the air now and shivering at the shift in temperature. Mark took this opportunity to rid himself of his remaining piece of clothing, tossing them to the floor.

"Good girl." He mumbled as he climbed up the bed, positioning himself on his knees behind you. "I don't have any condoms, don't worry, I'll pull out."

Though the tone of his voice told you he had no intention of doing so. But before you could say anything, he was sliding the tip of his cock between your lips, collecting your juices before stopping at your entrance. Then he pushed inside of you, he gave your ass a hard smack.

“Wait, what? No you can’t without a–fuck!”

Before there was any real time to get away, he was already pushing into you. Feeling like he was splitting you apart at the seams. “Shit...shit, fuck it hurts!” Despite your whines of pain, the harsh slap resulted in your body pushing back involuntarily against his own. Fists twisting in the sheets as tears begin to soak the mattress.

"You can take it."

He pushed deeper and deeper inside of you until his hips sat flush against your ass. Giving it another harsh slap, his hands moved to your hips. His fingertips dug in so hard you knew they'd leave bruises behind. Pulling all the way back, he slammed deep into you again. His head fell back in pleasure at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him.

"Fuck, your pussy is so perfect. Should have just done this long ago."

It wasn’t long before your forearms gave out underneath you. Upper body shaking as you collapsed against the fabric. Knees digging harshly into the mattress on either side of Mark’s waist while trying so hard to keep your lower half up. Despite your constant protests, you wanted to hear him call you a good girl again, praise you. Tell you that you make him feel good. His words were enough to gather another rush of slickness between your legs, groaning quietly and burying your face into the smoke-permeated sheets to muffle the sounds. That was useless though, the perverted noises of skin hitting skin and squelching from your near sinful arousal was probably enough to tell the entire town what was going on behind that closed door. All while your boyfriend was busy partying outside.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” He whispers darkly into your ear. ““I’d purposely missed that shot. Winning is too easy, and it feels like you’re doing this because you have to.”

A rough slap landed on your ass and you whined. “As much as I like seeing you helpless, I love making you beg more.”

He continued pounding into you. Grunts and soft moans falling from his lips. As you collapsed onto the bed, he reached down and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking you back against him. "You're such a little slut. Just letting me fuck you, not even putting up a fight. You like this don't you? Like the idea of me fucking you with so many people out there." With your body pulled close against his own, he leaned in and bit down hard on your shoulder. "Everyone is going to know just who makes you feel this good."

Scream ripped through the room at the sharp tug of your hair. Head falling back against his shoulder now and leaving the vast expanse of your neck free to his assault. Hands scrambled back, latching onto his forearm and hip to try and ground yourself. Though his taunts were enough to push you deeper and deeper into that deliciously fuzzy headspace.

“Maybe I should call Jeno, hm? Let him see how much of a cheating slut you are.”

Your eyes rolled back, jaw going slack when that all too familiar burning sensation began building up once again. His words only made your pussy clench more, tingled with desire.

“Please, Mark…I’m close…”

Mark chuckled darkly. "Oh yea? Already gonna cum for me again? Such an easy little whore aren't you?"

His hand snaked around and grabbed your throat.

"I'm not a…"

Your words were cut off by a choked out moan as the male grabbed at your throat. Rough fingers against the soft skin enough to make me desperately whimper — actually beginning to grind back against him now and actively chasing my own climax.

"Say it. Say 'I love your cock, Mark.'"

His thrusts were growing sloppier, a telltale sign that his own orgasm was approaching fast.

“L-love your cock, Mark, love having you inside me. Splitting me open, need you all the time…always need you. Dream about you Mark.”

The rambles continued, eyelids fluttering and swollen lips continuing to spew out all of your secret desires.

That was enough to push him over the edge. "Fuck. T-take my cum like the little slut you are."

Bottoming out inside of you, you could feel his cock throbbing as his warm cum filled your hole. His hand let go of your throat and moved between your legs, toying with your clit while still buried inside of you.

"Go ahead, cum for me again and then we're all done."

You whimpered almost pathetically at the way his grip tightened on your hip when he came. Mouth falling open in a long, languid moan that quickly shifted into nearly pained cries as rough fingertips found your sensitive bud. Hips jerked back away from his touch but of course, your body betrayed you. Walls clenching around his length, a filthy mix of fluids slipped out between your thighs as you came hard around his length. Quiet sobs falling from quivering lips and your shoulders and hips occasionally convulsing from the overwhelming stimulation.

Finally Mark fell onto the bed next to you, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked up at you.

"Guess I forgot to pull out." He motioned between your legs, where he watched the mixture of fluids drip down your leg.

"I'll get you a Plan B or something. Don't want any little shits running around."

Sitting up, he reached for his pants. "We should do this again. Don't worry, Jeno doesn't have to know."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the bedroom door swung open.

"Hey, I...."

Jeno paused, taking in the scene. His expression instantly turned cold and hard. Mark turned to you and shrugged, an infuriating smirk tugged his lips.

"Oops. Guess he knows now."

[glittervame]

Lets do this agian

Theo x Fem!Reader

Warning: Bottom theo (I'm ovulating I apologize) Wrap it before you tap it

Theo's dorm room was a mess. Clothes and papers were strewn across the floor, making it difficult to navigate without tripping over something. The air smelled faintly of stale sweat and cheap cologne, a testament to the many nights he had spent here with Y/n. Tonight, she was here again, but something felt different. She was dressed in a short skirt and a revealing top, her long legs and curvaceous figure on full display. Theo couldn't help but stare as she moved around the room, her hips swaying to an invisible beat.

He watched as she knelt down by his bedside, her hands moving to his belt. In a flash, his pants were undone and his cock sprung free. Y/n looked up at him with a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She took him in her hand, stroking him gently at first, then harder and faster as his breathing deepened.

Theo could feel his body beginning to respond to her touch, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted her. "Y/n," he groaned, arching his back off the bed. "Please."

She crawled up onto the bed, straddling his waist. "What do you want, baby?" she purred, her voice low and sultry. Her hips rocked against his erection, teasing him mercilessly. Heat pooled in his groin, and he felt himself growing even harder beneath her touch.

"You know what I want," he moaned, reaching up to grab her ass. She squealed, her nails digging into his skin. It was the sound he craved, the sound that drove him wild.

"I need you to say what you want Theo," She hummed, "Use your words" She teased, grinding her hips against his erection. Theo's mind raced, trying to find the words to express the need that burned inside him. He could feel himself growing closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, Y/n," he finally managed to choke out. "I need you to… to fuck me."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled down at him. "Oh really?" She purred, leaning forward to kiss him deeply. "Well, if that's what you want…" With a swift motion, she lowered herself onto his cock, taking him inside her in one smooth motion. Theo cried out, arching his back off the bed as she impaled herself on him. It felt so good, so right.

As she began to move, her hips undulating in a sensual rhythm, Theo couldn't help but lose himself in the sensation. His hands grasped at her hips, holding her tightly against him as she rode him. He could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building inside him. "Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained. "I'm close… I'm going to…"

She grins and pulls away before he could Finnish, causing him to whine in frustration. "I don't think you deserve to cum…" she purrs raking he nails down his chest and over his abdomen, "Not just yet…" She leans down and whispers into his ear, "Maybe if you beg me nicely…" She begins to move faster, her hips slapping against his harder with each thrust, the bed creaking beneath them.

Theo's whole body feels like it's on fire. "Please, Y/n…" he begs, his voice breaking. "Please let me cum…" He arches his back off the bed, his hips bucking up to meet hers as he chases the release that seems so close, yet so far away.

She laughs, the sound filling the room. "Oh, you want it so badly…" She leans forward, her breasts brushing against his chest as she continues to ride him. "You're such a needy little slut…" She speeds up even more, her movements erratic and wild. Theo feels like he's losing control, his senses spinning as he tries to focus on the pleasure coursing through his body.

She stops and gets off of him, panting heavily as she stands above him. "You're such a mess, Theo…" She shakes her head, laughing again. "You really are a needy little thing…" She climbs back onto the bed, straddling his chest this time, "I want to use my toy on you," She licks her lips and holds up the pink vibrator in her hands. Theo's eyes widen as he feels it press against his entrance. She leans forward, her breasts brushing against his lips. "You want this, don't you?"

She pushes the vibrator inside him, feeling it stretch him as it slides past his entrance. "Ahh, just what the doctor ordered," she whispers, starting it up and letting the buzz fill the room. Theo's hips jerk involuntarily as the vibrations hit his sweet spot, his cock twitching in anticipation.

Y/n begins to move her hips in time with the vibrations, her breath hot against his ear. "You're such a dirty boy," she purrs, "You want me to turn it up?" She presses a button on the vibrator, and the buzz intensifies, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Theo arches his back off the bed, his hands trying to grasp at something, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to catch his breath.

She leans forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, and slowly starts to move her hips, her body undulating in a sensual rhythm. Theo can feel the pressure building inside him, the need for release becoming unbearable. "Please, Y/n," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Let me cum."

She smiles down at him, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you don't get to tell me what to do, Theo." She speeds up the movement of her hips, the friction of her body and the vibrator sending sparks of pleasure through him. "You're mine, remember?"

As he feels the climax building inside him, she increases the speed of the vibrator, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Theo's muscles tense, and he feels himself about to explode before she stops everything, she stops her hips and she stops the vibrator. His body trembles, his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum, but he doesn't get the release he so desperately needs. "Come on" she says, her voice husky with arousal. "Beg for me"

Theo looks up at her, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with unshed tears of frustration. "Please" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "Please let me cum" She smirks down at him, a wicked glint in her eye. "I think you need to work for it." She leans forward, her lips against this neck "That didn't sound convincing enough" she asks, her voice laced with seduction. "Try again"

Theo's throat tightens as he tries to find the words that will make her relent. "I'm sorry, I just need it so bad" he whimpers, feeling the desperation rising in his voice. "Please, Y/n, I'll do anything." His cock twitches again, leaking more pre-cum onto the bed as he begs for release.

She tilts her head, considering him for a moment before she finally speaks. "Anything?" she says, a dangerous glint in her eye. "You're sure you'll do anything?" Theo nods slowly, his heart racing. "Alright," she breathes, her voice low and sultry.

She straddles his hips again, her wet folds rubbing against the head of his cock, and starts to move her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Theo moans, feeling the tension building inside him once more. "That's it," she whispers, her breath hot against his ear. "You're doing so well."

She speeds up the motion, her body moving in perfect sync with his, and the pleasure begins to build inside him again. "You gonna cum for me?" she asks, her voice husky with desire. Theo nods frantically, feeling his control slipping as the tension within him reaches a breaking point.

With one final thrust, she pushes herself down on him, taking him deep inside her as he releases, his cock throbbing and pulsing with each powerful spurt of cum. Y/n moans, her nails digging into his shoulders as she comes as well, her body shuddering beneath his.

Theo twitches the vibrator still running in him, the aftershocks of their combined orgasms coursing through his body. His vision is blurred, his limbs heavy as he tries to catch his breath, small whines leaving his mouth, "Too much" he whispers, voice strained. Y/n chuckles, leaning down to kiss him gently on the lips.

"Well, that's what you get for being such a good boy," she teases, her hands running up and down his sweaty back. She reaches down, finally turning off the vibrator, and then helps him out from beneath her, their entangled bodies slipping apart reluctantly. She lies down beside him, propping her head up on one hand, her gaze fixed on his face. "Let's do this again"

Theo tag list -I really apologize

@ladyblablabla

@idontknowwhattosaylmao

Comment if you want to be added to a tag list

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match II

DILF/DBF Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader

Pt. 1 Pt. 3

Summary: You and Stephanie take a girls trip to Miami after Stephanie broke up with her high school sweetheart at the end of your freshman year of college. The purpose of the trip was for her to get laid, so your mission was to be her wing woman. However, you didn’t expect to hook up with a mysterious, handsome man for the weekend.

18+ Warning!!! This chapter will have a lot of smut.

This is a very long chapter since I wanted to do the flashback seen in one chapter.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy💕

Wc: 7.1k

————————————————————————

Two Years Ago

“Finally, we’re here! It felt like we were never getting to our hotel.” Stephanie slammed the taxi door as she screamed excitedly, getting some weird stares from bystanders.

You pay the taxi driver and give him a nice tip as an apology for your very energetic friend. As you get out, the taxi leaves, and you look at the resort hotel entrance, a sigh of relief and relaxation washing over you.

“Now, let’s get to our room to go to the bar and get a drink. I need one after that grueling flight.” You groan slightly as you and Stephanie walk inside.

After checking in and settling into your room, you are now dressed in more appropriate and sexier bar clothes instead of the leggings and sweats you came in wearing.

“Ok, tonight is about you getting laid and over your ex.” You said as you both walked out of the elevator and towards the outdoor bar by the pool.

“You know, I will be your wing woman this weekend. You need to get laid as well. It’s probably getting dusty down there. You haven’t hooked up since you broke up with your ex right before college started.” Said Stephanie as you both find seats at the bar.

“I’ve gotten laid since.” You argue, but she gives you a side eye, seeing straight through your lie. You roll your eyes and sigh in defeat. “Ok, fine. I haven’t.” You get the bartender’s attention by ordering green tea shots and a cocktail.

You both hold your shot glasses up, “To getting laid.” Said Stephanie, who made you chuckle slightly, repeating her words before clinking glasses and downing the shot.

As you both enjoyed your time at the bar, chatting away and reliving the best and worst moments of Freshmen year, the bartender approached you with a new set of cocktail orders.

“These are from the gentlemen over there.” The bartender said before leaving. You and Stephanie look down to the other end of the bar to see two guys, obviously in college, smiling at you both. They weren’t bad-looking, so Stephanie waved them over.

“Stephanie, what are you doing?”

“Getting us both tickets to getting laid. Before they get here. Drink test.” You both dipped the tip of a nail in your drinks. After waiting a few seconds, you both noticed that your nail polish didn’t change, passing the no-roofie detected test.

“Hey there, ladies. You must have just gotten here. This is our third evening here, and we haven’t met women as beautiful as you. I’m Rafael.” Rafael leaned closer to Stephanie.

“Sweet talker. I like that. I’m Stephanie.” Said Stephanie as she leaned closer to Rafael, clearly interested. You smiled slightly as you could sense the chemistry between the two. Goal achieved.

“Hey, I’m Mat.” The other guy stood next to you as he smiled at you. You smile back at him. "Y/n."

“Can I buy you a shot?” He offered.

“Sure. Green tea’s my favorite.”

“Mine too.” He chuckled as he got the bartender’s attention and ordered the shots.

“Really?” You chuckle at his response.

“Ok, you caught me. Pickleback is my favorite. But green tea shots are always good.” He lifted his hands in surrender as he chuckled.

“Pickles are definitely not my favorite.” You giggle.

“Maybe I can change your mind?” Mat moved closer to you with a smirk.

“Maybe.” You smile back as you lean in closer to him. He smiled as he ordered a set of pickle back shots too.

Once both shots arrived, you decided to try the pickle one first.

“Cheers.” Said Mat as you clinked glasses and drank the shot of Jameson. As you lifted the shot of pickle juice to your mouth, you pulled back and scrunched up your face.

“Nope, can’t do it.” You chuckle as you place it down on the counter.

“I’ll take it. Pickles are the best.” He chuckled as he took your shot which made you chuckle too.

You continued your conversation with Mat. Not too long ago, Stephanie tapped you on the shoulder to signal that she was heading out with Rafael. You had both decided that if you got laid, she would go to another room, even though you insisted the other way around. But just as dramatic as your best friend was, she was just as stubborn.

Mat was cute, and talking with him was nice, but you weren’t feeling hot and bothered by him. You didn’t feel that sexual attraction, which was frustrating, to say the least. But there didn’t seem to be other prospects floating your way tonight.

You glanced at the pool as its blue hue glowed against the dusk sky. That’s when you noticed a tall man walking towards the bar. His white shirt fitted tightly against him as it perfectly contrasted against his warm tan skin. As the mysterious man got closer, you noticed the stark height difference as he walked up to the bar and ordered dark liquor.

The man noticed your gaze as his reddish-brown hues met yours. Just one look into his eyes, and you were hypnotized. You notice him checking you out before he smirks at you, now looking ahead and taking a sip of his drink.

“Y/n? Are you good?” Mat’s voice brought you out of your hypnosis as you looked back at him with a smile as he looked at you with a confused smile.

“Yeah, sorry. Thought I saw something. But it was just my imagination.” You chuckle nervously, hoping he bought it.

“Alright. As I was saying...” Mat continued to talk as you tried your best to pay attention to him.

Your eyes briefly returned to where the mysterious man was but were disappointed to see no one there. Maybe you did imagine him. He seemed too perfect to be true.

“So...do you want to get out of here?” Mat smiled as he scratched a non-existent scratch on the back of his neck. Before you can respond, the mysterious man walks up and stands to the other side of you. “Another whisky for me. And whatever the gorgeous lady next to me wants.” The man says as he slides the drink the bartender made for you closer to you on the wooden counter. Now up close, you noticed how handsome he was, from his chiseled jaw to his plush lips and piercing brown eyes fixed on you.

“So, what’s your name, Hermosa?” He smirked and looked down at you as he sipped his drink. Even sitting next to you, you barely reach his broad shoulders.

“Hey man, she’s with me.” Said Mat as he scowled at the other man and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, which, to be honest, you weren’t pleased about.

“Are you her husband? Boyfriend?” The man asked as he arched his eyebrow.

“Well, no.”

“Then she’s available. As long as she’s interested.” The man slid his hand around your waist as he moved you closer to him. As you felt your body began to tingle, your heart raced in your chest. You definitely felt hot and bothered by him. And you liked it.

You slightly turned to face Mat as you smiled softly at him. “It was nice getting to know you, Mat, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t feel any spark between us. I’m sorry. I can pay for my drinks from your tab.” You bit your lip as you looked at Mat, who looked at you with a frown before glaring at the man next to you.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll cover the drinks. It was nice meeting you, too, y/n. If you decide to ditch this guy, give me a call.” He smiled, slipping you his number on the counter before walking away. You felt a tinge of guilt for ending it like that. But you couldn’t ignore this spark between you and the figure next to you, who you turned towards.

“Y/n, that’s a beautiful name.” The man smiled as he turned your chair so you were fully facing him; he moved the stool closer. You smile up at him, cheeks rosy as your faces were only inches apart.

“What’s your name, stranger?” Your gaze meets his, not able to look away.

“It’s Miguel O’Hara.”

“That’s a fitting name for a handsome man.”

Miguel smirked as he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You try to take a sip from your drink when he pulls it away and as you give him a confused smile. He leans down to your ear as his hand gently snaked up your thigh.

“I think you're a year or two short from drinking that, cariño.” He whispered, which sent chills down your back.

“So what? Are you going to turn me in?” You chuckle.

“I might. Unless you agree to go on a walk with me.”

“Where are we walking to?” You smirk as you lean closer to him.

“Maybe around the resort, then towards my room.” He says as he gently grabs your chin and kisses you softly. As soon as your lips met, you felt a small shock as he kissed you. You gently break away as you say, “That sounds like fun.”

After Miguel paid his tab and the rest of yours, he took you by the waist as you walked back to his room.

The walk took a little longer as you both stole kisses from each other, which got a few blushing glances from bystanders. You finally made it to the room, which you didn’t think you would make it to, for how quickly the sexual tension built between you two had gotten.

Miguel swiftly unlocked and opened the door. Before he picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as a moan escaped your lips. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin ever so often.

Entering the room, Miguel laid you on the bed. He placed one deep kiss on your lips before he lifted himself up from on top of you. He took off his shirt and threw it to the ground. You gazed down his form as your eyes traced his chest to his perfectly toned abs before you met his lustful and hungry gaze.

Within minutes all your clothes and his were on the floor as you watched him slowly remove your black lace panties before separating your legs, wider than your used to so he could be between your thighs. Miguel hovered over you as he captured your lips and began to trail them down your neck to your breasts. You bit your lip as you felt his lips sucking on one of your breasts. One of his hands trailed up your thigh as he inserted one of his fingers into your wet folds.

Miguel removed his lips briefly from your nipple, peaked and sensitive from his touches as his eyes lightly glared at you. “Don’t hold back your voice, cariño. I want to hear you.” He growled slightly, which made your core burn hotter from his commanding tone. You nod at him; a smirk replaces his frown as he kisses your lips, “Good girl.” A moan escaped you, not holding back as you felt him insert another finger inside you. You knew he was a large man, but two of his fingers alone filled you.

His lips soon left the plush mountains of your breasts as he kissed down your stomach, where his face landed between your thighs. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders as he fingered fucked you. You felt your core tighten, desperate for release due to the quick pace of his fingers thrusting and curling inside you.

You bit your lip in pure pleasure, about to reach your blissful peak, when you suddenly felt the absence of his fingers. You lightly glare up at him, cheeks flushed, breath slightly uneven. “Miguel!” You whined, which only made him chuckle. “You’re cute when your flustered under me, Hermosa.”

Before you could argue back at him, you gripped the bed sheets as you felt his tongue slowly lick your wet folds before sucking your sensitive clit, instinctively making your hips buck up against him. “So eager for me, huh?” He chuckled as he inserted his tongue inside your dripping cunt. You roll your eyes at his cocky attitude, but you don’t care as he buries his mouth against you as if you were his favorite meal and, at the same time, his last meal.

You begin to feel your core tighten again, “Cum for me so that I can taste more of you,” he said before his lips sucked on your clit. A loud groan from your sweet voice was music to Miguel’s ears as a small groan escaped him when he felt your thighs squeeze against his face, making his cock twitch from the pressure.

Your grip on the sheets relaxed as you released yourself onto his face, which made your flushed cheeks darken as he licked every drop. It had been so long since you felt this good from an orgasm. Possibly, never felt this amazing before.

Miguel lowered your legs from his shoulders as he positioned himself between you. He hovered over you as he removed his boxers. Your eyes widen slightly, jaw slightly open when you see his size. How was he going to fit inside you? As if he could read your thoughts, he leaned down, lips gently brushing against yours as he chuckled, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to be gentle. At least for the first couple of minutes.” Miguel smirked as he captured your lips into his. He licked your lips, wanting to explore your mouth. Still, you teasingly refused, which was a poor mistake as he entered the tip of his cock inside you, making you gasp and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he slowly inserted deeper inside your wet cunt. Even with the prep, he still made your walls stretch farther than they have ever been. Once you gently moved your hips against his, it was his cue to begin as he removed himself but the tip before thrusting back inside you.

“Miguel.” You cry out as you claw at his back from the constant abuse of your pussy. His pace begins to quicken as he slams back into you, as he feels his balls slap against you.

“You keep squeezing around me like that, and I’ll lose myself faster, cariño. Damn, you’re tight. I love how you squeeze and suck my cock deeper into your pussy.” Miguel growled as his pace grew faster, making you feel your core tighten again.

He grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly as he found a new angle to fuck you in, making the tip of his cock hit in just the right place repeatedly. You cried out loud as you reached your euphoric high again, as you covered his cock in your juices.

Trying to catch your breath, you feel him remove himself as you give him a confused look. He chuckled, “Giving you a second to catch your breath before we continue.” He chuckled as he kissed your lips.

Your cheeks are already flushed. It was hard to see them grow redder from his sexual stamina. He flipped you so you were on your hands and knees, taking you by the hips and thrusting himself back in.

Your knuckles turn white from gripping the sheets so tight as Miguel fucked you from behind. You didn’t think his size would surprise you again in the new position, but you were wrong as you felt him fill you more.

Trailing after your third orgasm, your cunt began to feel overstimulated as he continued to fuck you rough from behind.

“It’s s-so much. T-too much.” You mewled out loud. Miguel leaned forward, and you felt him press agaisnt your back as he kissed your shoulder to your neck. “Just one more. You can handle one more. Right, Hermosa?” He whispered in your ear. You nod your head as you feel your lower stomach tighten.

“Fuck, let me cum inside this pretty little pussy of yours. What do you say?” Miguel continued to slam into you as his cock twitched, almost at its peak. You moaned out loud as you squeezed around him from your third orgasm. The sudden tightness around his cock makes him groan as he spills deep inside you, coating your walls white.

Your upper body collapsed on the soft duvet as Miguel continued to thrust inside you, becoming more sloppy as he came down from his sexual high. Once he removed himself from you, he went to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth as he gently cleaned around your thighs and overstimulated pussy.

Once he was done, he got back on the bed and brought you both under the covers as he held you against him. He gently lifted your chin as he kissed you softly. You return the kiss before pulling away as you both try to catch your breath after your fun physical activity that just took place.

Fatigue soon washed over you as Miguel pulled you closer against his chest and kissed your head. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

The sunlight peaking into the window woke you from your peaceful slumber. You begin to wake up and feel how sore your body is from last night’s events. Remembering you weren’t in your room, you look to the other side of the bed and slightly frown when you see it empty.

You then register the sound of the shower in the bathroom; looking at the arm clock, you notice it is 9 am. Your eyes widen; you overslept. A small groan left your body as you got up from the bed. Your body was sore. You didn’t realize how rough he was going last night until now.

You try to find all your clothes and get them on before he gets out of the shower. Taking longer than normal, you could only get your panties and bra on when you heard the bathroom door open. Out walked Miguel in only a towel that hung dangerously low around his hips as he gave you a confused look.

“Sorry, I’m almost ready and will be out in a few minutes.” You say as you try to find your skirt.

“Why? Are you trying to run away from me, Hermosa? Was last night not satisfying enough? You seemed to really enjoy yourself. But I could easily show you again.” He chuckled as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you into his wet chiseled chest.

“For some reason, I thought this was a one-nightstand.” You nervously chuckle as you bite your lower lip and look up at him. You see a small frown on his lips as he looks at you.

“Do you want it to be? Cause I know I want this to keep going. I can’t seem to get enough of you.” He smirked and leaned down to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around him as you got on your toes to deepen the kiss.

“I don’t want this to end yet either.” You happily smile, which he returns as he kisses you again. The kisses became more heated as you both were hungry for each other as you smashed your lips.

Miguel picks you up and places you on the bed as he hovers over you, placing his lips across your breasts and neck as he leaves more bruises over the ones he made last night.

You moan softly from his lips as they meet yours again in a loving kiss. Miguel moved his lips from you briefly as he gazed at you, “You’re gorgeous, cariño.” He smiles as he kisses you softly. A groan escapes his lips when he hears your phone ring.

“Sorry, I have to get it. It might be my friend who I’m staying with.” Miguel nods as you turn to grab your phone from the nightstand. You sit slightly up against the bed as Miguel continues his expedition with his lips on your body.

“Hey, Steph. How did it go last night?” You say as you try your best to stifle any moans.

“It was great! A good way to start off the weekend here. I went back to the room and saw you weren’t there. Are you out already?”

“I didn’t go back to the room last night. I went to someone else’s.” You feel Miguel smirk against your skin as he looks at you before attacking your neck with his lips.

“Ooo, I’m glad you got some last night too. Was it with that Mat guy?”

“No, this other guy came to the bar, and we hit it off very well.”

“Ooo, I definitely have to know all the details. But how was it?” Your cheeks lightly turn red as you see Miguel look at you with a smirk as he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer. You smile as you playfully roll your eyes as you look at Miguel.

“It was really good. Definitely left me to soar this morning.” You giggle from Miguel’s playful antics as you are on the phone.

“Well, I can tell it went really well, as it seems you are still with him.” You can hear the grin on her face as you only could let out a small chuckle. “Hey, Raphael and I were about to get breakfast. Do you and your friend want to come? We’ll just be at the outdoor part of the hotel restaurant.” You agreed before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.

Placing the phone on the bed, you look back at Miguel as you kiss him. “Since you heard everything, do you want to get breakfast?” You asked him with slight hesitation, wondering how far he wanted to take this.

Miguel smiled as he took your chin and kissed you again. “I would love to. But first, let’s continue where we left off.” Lust in his eyes, he smirked before removing his towel and taking your panties off.

After a quick round, you and Miguel got dressed and ready. Ready to leave, you both walk out the door with Miguel closing it. As you walk out his door, you bump into Mat, who is about to enter the room next to Miguel’s. He smiles awkwardly at you as he grabs his key to enter his room. But not before Miguel kissed you in front of him. You blushed, embarrassed to find out you shared a wall. You look up to Miguel, who has a smirk on his face. You lightly hit his chest with your hand as you try to hide your smile. “Miguel, you knew.”

“What can I say, Hermosa? Just wanted to let the guy know who you chose last night.” He chuckles before you both make your way to your floor, where your room is to change into new clothes.

After you got changed, you made it to the restaurant and headed to the outdoor patio, where you saw Stephanie and the guy she slept with.

“Heyy!” Stephanie said as he got up and hugged you. Before she let go, she whispered in your ear. “Damn, girl. You caught yourself a tall glass of steaming hot water.” You chuckled at her words.

“We actually ate already since it took you guys a bit longer. But don’t apologize. Never apologize for having some fun in the morning.” Stephanie winked at you as she took a sip of her coffee. Her comment made you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle as you and Miguel sat down.

After talking briefly with Stephanie and her hookup, you and Miguel leave and head to the pool. Since this was an adults-only hotel, private cabanas were offered with their own small pool. You had read about it on the hotel’s website, but you knew it was too expensive to do it. Not with your college job budget.

Of course, Miguel tells you he has a surprise and asks you to close your eyes as he leads you to your destination. When he said you could open your eyes, you gasped in awe at the sight. It was one of the private cabanas with an ocean view.

“Do you like it?” Asked Miguel as he brought you closer to him and kissed your neck. You turn around and kiss him in excitement. “I love this. I can’t believe you got one of the private cabanas. I’ll have to make sure to thank you properly.” You smirk as you guide him into the private cabana area and close the curtain to the public side. Only seeing the ocean view, knowing no one could see you from that view unless they were on a boat.

You take off your bikini cover-up dress and put sunscreen on. After you are done, you see Miguel take off his shirt and sit on the cabana bed.

“Do you need any help with putting on sunscreen?” You smile as Miguel smirks, “I would, actually.” You get on the cabana bed behind him and spread the sunscreen across his back, shoulders, and neck. You massage the sunscreen into his shoulders and neck as he leans back against your, enjoying your touch. “Your hands are heavenly.” Miguel groaned in pure bliss. You smiled as you kissed his cheek before moving away from him, making him frown before a smirk reappeared. He watched you straddle his lap as you helped him put sunscreen on his chest.

Your eyes would trail down his abs, every once in a while going back up to meet his eyes that craved for you. Miguel sits back against the cushioned bed, keeping you on his lap. Grabbing you by the hips, he pulled you closer against him as he kissed you.

“I want to know more about you, Hermosa. I only know your name.” Miguel said in between kissing you. You smiled against his lips at his comment before pulling away.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, first off, your age. Then where do you go to college.” He chuckled as one of his hands gently rubbed against your thigh.

“I’m 19, and I go to Nueva York University. Now you seem to be old enough not to be in college. I’m guessing 25?” You furrow your brows and give him a confused smile when he laughs.

“Guess a little older.”

“28?”

“No, I’m 35.” When Miguel revealed his age, your eyes widened in shock.

“You're joking, right?” You chuckle and stop when he sees his serious look as he smiles at you.

“Is that a dealbreaker?” He asked.

“No, it’s not at all. I was just surprised. I don’t mind the age gap.” You smile as you lean in and kiss him on the lips.

“Good. Cause I would be pretty bummed to see this end right now.” Miguel smirked as he moved your hair behind your shoulders and kissed your neck, making a small moan escape your lips as he touched your sweet spot.

After a heated make-out session, you both felt the sun’s heat on your bodies. Miguel picked you up by the waist as he stood up and walked over to the private pool.

A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips, which made you nervously chuckle. “What are you thinking about O’Hara?” You then notice him walking closer to the pool as you look back at him with wide eyes. “Miguel...”

“I think we should take a dip in the pool.” He chuckled as he carried you into the cold water. A small gasp left your lips as your back arched, pressing your chest against him. Miguel walked farther into the water, smile getting wider every time your body flinched as it was covered in water.

“You're cheeky.” You chuckle as you kiss Miguel’s smiling lips. One of your hands goes into the water as you lightly splash his face. Miguel wiped his face, surprised by the sudden water attack. He sends you a playful glare before splashing your face with more water. You brush your wet hair back from your face as you laugh it off before Miguel cups your face and leans down to kiss you.

During the kiss, you splash him again as you get out of his hold, laughing. Miguel wiped his face chuckling as he quickly grabbed you as you tried to swim away from him laughing. He sits on the underwater bench and sits you on his lap, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. He then kisses your cheek, whispering, “I think you’re the cheeky one. And bad girls deserve to be punished.”

Your eyes widen slightly, cheeks flushed from his last words. A smirk appeared on his face as he untied your bikini top, letting your breasts free. He then briefly took you off his lap, turning you around so your back was against his chest. He pushed your bottoms to the side before you were slammed down on to his member.

You moaned out loud as you tried to adjust to his size. However, Miguel didn’t let you as he began to ram his hips up into you, having a rough pace. You were in slight pain, but it didn’t bother you as you were overcome with pleasure. As one of his hands held your hips in place, the other began to play with one of your breasts as he used his fingers to play with your nipple, making you gasp from how sensitive you were.

You lower your hand to your clit to help relieve some of your arousal. However, as soon as your fingers touched your sensitive area, Miguel snatched your wrist and moved it to your side as you groaned in frustration.

“Miguel.” You whine as you lay your head back against his shoulder.

“Sorry, cariño. Only a good girl gets to cum. You were being cheeky, so you aren’t allowed to cum yet. You just have to sit here and take my cock in this pretty little pussy of yours.” Miguel whispered in your ear before kissing and marking up along your neck.

You turn your head to face him, and your lips connect into a heated kiss. The water splashes around from the movement of both your bodies. In the distance, you see a boat sail into view.

“There’s a boat. W-what if someone sees us?”

“If someone does, they’ll witness a gorgeous woman getting fucked in a pool. I’d like to witness that. But I’m in a much better spot cause I’m the one fucking that gorgeous woman. Now, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes. Please, Miguel.”

“Please, what?” Miguel chuckled as he kissed your neck.

“Please touch me.”

“ As you wish.” Miguel lowered his hand as he began to rub your clit. A moan escapes you as you arch your back against his chest. “Cum for me.” He whispered as your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body as you came from your high.

Miguel groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. “Por Dios! You feel so good. I wish I could stay inside you.” Miguel bucked his hips into you one last time before you felt him spill deep inside you. Miguel rode out his high before he removed himself from you, kissing your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath.

After spending the morning and afternoon at the cabana, you both decide to head back to get ready for dinner, as Miguel said he made a reservation. You first stop at your room to grab a pair of new clothes before returning to Miguel’s room.

You decide to take a shower together to save time and indulge both of your sexual hunger for one another. It might have taken less time if you took separate showers, but why would you deny having shower sex with a man like Miguel?

After rushing to get ready, you leave the room and follow Miguel to the restaurant. You decided to walk there since it would only take 5 to 10 minutes, and the Miami night was at the perfect temperature. Once you arrived, you were taken to your seat. Looking around, you noticed how nice the restaurant was. It definitely had a few dollar signs on the Google review.

“This place is gorgeous.” You tell Miguel as you look at him across the table. You never would have thought twice about sleeping with a man older than you. But with Miguel, it didn’t feel weird at all.

“I’m glad you think so. It’s Italian. I hope you like that. And order anything you like. It’s on me.”

You looked up from your menu, slightly wide-eyed, “That’s sweet of you, Miguel. But let me pay for us. You’ve picked up the tab since we met last night.” Wow, last night. You had only known Miguel for 24 hours. Yet it felt like you’ve known him for years. Miguel smiled as he set the menu down and gently took your hand.

“I’ll pay for dinner since I suggested the restaurant. And I don’t mind paying for such a beautiful woman. But you can pay for coffee tomorrow.” He added the last part because he could tell you felt bad that he was paying for everything. But he would pick up every bill for you. You were just so perfect.

“I would love to pay for coffee tomorrow. But do you mind waking up at 7 am?” You bite your lip out of bad habit from your nerves as you notice a frown of confusion on his face.

“I don’t mind waking up at that time. But why so early?”

“I-I leave tomorrow morning. I was only here for the weekend.” Your gaze shifted from his back to the menu. When the waitress returned, you both ordered your drinks and appetizers before they left; Miguel took your hand, gaining your attention.

“Well, we’ll have to make every minute count then.” Miguel smiled as he lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“I agree.” Your cheeks turn slightly pink from his small romantic gesture. He was such a gentleman when he was outside the bedroom. Which you’re definitely not complaining about.

Dinner passed by faster than you would have liked as Miguel was leading you out of the restaurant, his hand on your back gently guiding you out. Dinner was really nice; you got to know a bit more about him between flirting with each other. He worked at Alchamex, where he talked a bit about what he does and the people he works with. Seeing his annoyed reactions when he mentioned certain people was cute. He then mentioned he had a three-year-old daughter, which melted your heart when he spoke about her.

For some reason, you had no problems with the age gap or that he was a father. It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by older men. But you would just scoff and ignore them. But with Miguel. It felt different.

As you were walking back, you got to learn more about him. He had a younger brother named Gabriel, who his daughter was named after. You asked if you could see a photo of his daughter, which he was glad to show the Home Screen on his phone. Your heart melted at the image of his daughter. She was freaking adorable. Despite only being three, she looked much like Miguel, which you thought was cute.

You did ask the awkward question if he was married before. But Miguel only smiled and said he hadn’t and that Gabi was the result of a month-long relationship in that he found out the woman he dated was pregnant with his child until he saw her again 9 months later, giving him the baby and the parental rights and saying that she didn’t want to be a mother and to not contact her.

After he told you that, the story of how he got his daughter broke your heart. How could someone abandon their child like that? Especially one so adorable. You hugged Miguel and kissed him on the cheek for being a great man and taking care of his child.

You both returned to his room, where Miguel picked you up and put you on the bed, quickly removing both your clothes before ravaging you for hours until you were so overstimulated that you almost passed out. After Miguel helped gently clean you up, bring extra careful when he wiped the wet towel over your upper thighs and overspent pussy. He then brought you against his chest under the covers as he kissed you good night and said, “Let me make you feel good one last time tomorrow morning before you leave.”

You nodded, kissing him softly before your eyes grew heavy, entering into a peaceful slumber. Miguel gazed at your sleeping form, wanting to memorize every part of you before you left him. His last thought before he fell asleep was maybe tomorrow morning, he could convince you to stay with him longer.

You woke up the next morning extremely sore. The past two nights, really taking a toll on your body. But you didn’t mind it, as the sex was amazing enough to not care about the bruises and sore muscles the next day.

Checking your phone, you are relieved that you woke up at 5:30 and before Miguel. You looked at the man sleeping soundly next to you. How could someone look even more handsome when they were asleep? You wish you could see those reddish-brown hues lovingly gazing at you one last time before you left. But you decided it would be less painful if you left before he woke up.

You gently get out of bed, stopping every time Miguel slightly shifts in his sleep. Leaving his bed’s warmth was hard, but you had to go. When you finally left the bed, you quickly dressed before quietly getting your wallet and his room key.

You came back 15 minutes later with a coffee and breakfast sandwich for him as a small thank you for everything he’s paid for. You were relieved to still find him asleep as you walked in the door. Before you left, you wrote him a small note:

I have to raincheck on breakfast with you this morning to catch my flight, but here is a coffee and breakfast sandwich as a small thank you for dinner and everything else. I promise to take you out for a proper breakfast or dinner if we ever meet again. I really had a great time with you this weekend. I’m sorry I left before you could say goodbye.

- Love

Y/n

After leaving the note on your pillow, you look at Miguel again before quietly leaving his room. You went back to your room to see Stephanie already packed and ready.

“Hey, we haven’t seen each other all weekend.” Stephanie chuckled as she walked over to hug you. Before she let you go, she frowned slightly when she saw that painful look on your face. “Are you alright, y/n?”

“I know it was only a hookup for the weekend. But I think I stupidly caught feelings for him.” You chuckle softly, trying to fight away the pain in your heart.

“Aww, did he not return your feelings?” Stephanie said as she helped you pack; you tried to stop her, but she refused since she could tell you were hurting.

“Actually- I never told him. Guess I didn’t want to ruin such a great weekend if he didn’t feel the same way.” Stephanie scoffs as she flicks your forehead, which you swatted away as you lightly glared at her.

“Why didn’t you say anything? How did he seem this morning when you said goodbye?”

“I actually left before he woke up...”

“Girl! I swear I will kill you for some of the stupid things you do. Why would you do that?”

“Well, did you do that with Raphael?”

“No! Because mine was just a hookup. Yours was something more. When I saw you with him at breakfast the other day, he seemed to care for you.”

“Well, it’s too late. Plus, it wouldn’t have worked out anyways. I’m in college, still trying to figure out my life when he already has his figured out. Let’s just go. The cab is probably waiting for us downstairs.” You zip up your suitcase before the both of you make it downstairs and into the taxi.

Getting to the airport, passing security, and boarding the plane went surprisingly smoothly. But as you gaze out your window, watching Miami grow smaller, a tear falls down your cheek as you feel like you made a mistake and left a piece of your heart back at the hotel.

Present

The barbecue began to die down as the hours were ticking into the night. It was only your family, Stephanie, and the O’Hara’s helping to clean everything up.

“Y/n, can you take all the dishes and put them in the sink? Liam can do them.”

“What! Why? Y/n’s the one bringing them there?” Whined your younger brother as he was putting garbage in a bag.

“Liam, you’ll do them. Plus, your sister just got home today. She can get a break from chores.” Your mother lightly shot a glare at your younger brother for his attitude. You place a hand on her shoulder and smile at her.

“It’s ok, mom. I’ll do them. He wants to see his friends, and I’ll only be in the house.” You say as you pick up all the dirty dishes and bring them inside the house.

You began to wash the dishes when two large arms trapped you against the sink. Your stomach dropped as butterflies began to fly in rhythm with your rapid heart rate.

You felt him press his toned body against you, making your cheeks red and your body hot. You felt him gently move your hair from your shoulder and press his lips against your neck before whispering in your ear with that low sultry voice you missed so much.

“It’s been a while, Hermosa. I’ve missed you.”

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!💕

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[solarmorrigan]

39 + 95, ship of your choice

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 39. Survival/Wilderness Fic + 95. Sleep Intimacy

Hello! So I'm going to be honest with you and say that survival/wilderness stories have always given me anxiety and I've never enjoyed reading them, so the closest I got in writing one was a camping fic. I know it's not the same, but hopefully this is alright <3 (ship of choice was Steddie)

-

You might not know it to look at him, but Eddie had been an outdoorsy kind of kid.

He’d loved playing outside (he’s still the king of finding cool sticks to use as wizard staffs) and he’d always looked forward to his and Wayne’s annual camping trips. Wayne had taught him a lot about surviving in the wilderness on those long weekends, and Eddie had looked at them as grand adventures.

Eventually, of course, Eddie had gained other interests, and Wayne’s hours at the plant had changed, and the camping trips had petered to a stop. Eddie looks on the memories fondly, but doesn’t necessarily feel the need to go back and relive them (particularly not after the days he spent roughing it during the spring break from Hell). He’s happy to leave the outdoorsy activities to Steve these days. Steve loves going hiking, loves swimming, doesn’t even mind doing yardwork; he’s the one people would look at and assume he’d spent his childhood outdoors, except–

“You’ve never been camping?” Eddie asks, sitting up to look down at Steve where he’s squished in beside Eddie on a pool lounger that is absolutely not meant to fit two people.

Steve shrugs. “I always wanted to go, used to ask my dad a lot, and he used to promise he’d take me when he could get the time off of work,” he says. “I think he got pretty fed up with my asking, though, so I just kinda… stopped.”

Well, damn, if that doesn’t poke at a soft spot in Eddie’s hardened little heart.

“We could go,” Eddie blurts.

Steve blinks up at him. “What?”

“Me and Wayne used to go camping every year. I remember a lot of how it’s done, so… you and I could go,” Eddie offers. “If you want.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, a smile blooming across his face.

Eddie can’t help his answering smile. “Shit, yeah. Let’s go.”

If it makes Steve this happy, Eddie thinks in between Steve’s excited little kisses of thanks, then even if it goes terribly, Eddie won’t regret offering.

It takes a little bit to finagle their schedules and get time off together, but they manage it on the first nice weekend in spring. They pack Steve’s car up with a tent and sleeping bags and provisions and everything else Eddie can remember them needing (and a few things Wayne helpfully reminds him of), and they set off on their adventure.

The weekend starts off well. They set up the tent with minimal swearing, and manage to get a fire going, and explore the trails surrounding their camp, and spend the first night looking at the stars that shine brighter here than they do over Hawkins, and it’s nice.

It’s nice right up until Midwestern weather rears its unpredictable head while Eddie and Steve are out hiking on Saturday afternoon. The clouds roll in fast, rain-scented wind kicking up and shaking the limbs of the trees above them; they turn around to head back to camp, but they aren’t quick enough to beat the incoming rainstorm.

They’re soaked by the time they reach the tent, running and spluttering and laughing breathlessly, zipping the flap shut behind them and shucking their wet clothes before they can drip all over everything. They leave them in a heap off to the side, hopefully to be line-dried later, and do their best to dry off in the confined space.

“Gonna be hard to warm up without the fire,” Steve comments as he tries to scrub the rainwater out of his hair.

The weather has been nice, but not so nice that standing around damp and in their underwear is particularly comfortable. Even in the close space of the tent, the air isn’t warm, and Eddie eyes the goosebumps texturing the bare expanse of Steve’s tanned skin.

“I have an idea,” Eddie says, and Steve looks up at him expectantly. “C’mere.”

Eddie nods to the little nest they’d made the previous night by zipping two sleeping bags together and covering it with a couple of extra blankets. They don’t bother with dry clothes – isn’t skin-to-skin contact better for warming up, after all? Eddie slides in first and Steve joins him, immediately pressing the line of his body up against Eddie’s, curling an arm around his waist, tangling their legs, and resting his cheek against Eddie’s chest. Eddie tucks the blankets up a little closer around the both of them and settles down, wrapping both arms around Steve’s back.

“How’s this?” he asks.

He can feel Steve’s contented sigh as much as he can hear it, and Steve wiggles a little against Eddie’s front, as if there’s any space left between them to eliminate.

“This is good,” Steve says softly.

And it is, Eddie decides. He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, where the earthy smell of the rain lingers, underscored by the faint, familiar scent of Steve’s shampoo. Rain continues to patter against the roof of their tent, and the soft, dim afternoon light does nothing to discourage either of them from beginning to drift.

If it can always be like this, Eddie doesn’t think he’d mind making camping an annual thing again. He wouldn’t mind at all.

[gurugirl]

A Delicate Thing* (check-in)

Summary: Y/n wants to know what's going on with her father and Harry doesn't want her to worry about it. But there's a big piece of news she wants to reveal when her worries are finally quelled.

A/n: You guys begged for more of this one and I started this check-in a bit ago but never finished it (until today!). Hope you enjoy! This is a check-in for A Delicate Thing (mafia!harry). 3.8k words.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, talk of violence and murder, anxious feelings

♤♤♤♤

It took a while for Y/n to get comfortable with the idea that she was no longer under the thumb of her father, William, and was now the Boss’s girl. She was treated with respect everywhere she went, was pampered, cared for, and doted upon by Harry.

But as the months turned into a year, she began to understand how awful her life had been before Harry. Her father kept a close watch on her. Told her not to eat too much, to wear certain clothes, to become acquainted with important topics but to act as if she didn’t understand, and worst of all was the way he enjoyed showing her off to his associates. She hated William.

“What are you thinking about,” Harry pulled her into his lap one morning as he sat at the kitchen table and drank his tea.

“I was just… it’s stupid. It’s in the past.”

“It’s not stupid. Don’t say that. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She put her hands up to the lapel of his suit and sighed before beginning, “Thinking about William. How much I hate him. For everything he did to me. And now he’s bragging about how his daughter is the Boss’s girl… as if he had anything to do with it.”

Harry hummed and had his palm spread out over her thigh, the silk material of her nighty smooth under his hand, “Is he now? I think it’s time for me to give him a lesson once and for all. But only if you want me to. I don’t want to do anything that will have you upset.”

“What will you do?”

“Hmm…” Harry pursed his lips to the side for a moment, “What would you like? Demotion? Public reprimand?”

Shaking her head she kept her eyes on her lover, “Something worse.”

Nodding his head he spoke again, “Have someone break his arms? Cut him off from the family?”

“Maybe that. Cutting him off. I think that would be the worst for him. And I wouldn’t need to see him again.”

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

♤♤♤♤

Harry didn’t like to spend time away from his girl. Before she came along he’d take trips for work and never think a second thought about being away from some chick he might have been seeing. But with Y/n, she was his everything. So he started having her come with him if the trip wasn’t going to be too dangerous. Even if it was only for one night. He didn’t like not having her in his bed at the end of a long day.

And now he was currently away for work and had brought Y/n along with him. They traveled with his underboss, Brad, to visit an associate to come to some kind of agreement. Y/n wasn’t sure of the details, she just knew she’d be staying at the large mansion during the day with security outside while Harry, his underboss, and the associate were meeting somewhere unknown.

Harry was generally a busy man. He came home late sometimes but he always came home and he always called her when he was on his way back to her.

It was nearly 9 pm and she was freshly bathed and wrapped in a thick robe as she watched TV from the bed. Her phone rang with the tone she set for Harry and she leaned over to pluck it up, “Hi,” she smiled widely.

“Hi, baby. I’m on my way back, okay? How was your day?”

“Oh it was good,” she plopped back down into the pile of pillows behind her and sighed, “George’s chef made me a really big brunch and I swam in the pool for a while.”

“Good girl. Sounds nice. Can’t wait to see you, baby.”

Harry was the most attentive and loving man she’d ever met. There wasn’t a day that had gone by since he took her away from William, that she didn’t feel his love for her. And she loved returning that love to him just the same.

When he finally returned to George’s mansion and entered their bedroom, half expecting her to be at the front door when he pulled up, he understood why. She was lying on the bed, naked, her legs open and facing the door (on purpose he supposed). He swiftly closed the door behind him as she grinned at him, “Hi, Harry.”

Harry slid his jacket off and draped it at the foot of the bed and climbed in between her legs, hooking the underside of her knees over his shoulders, “Hi, baby,” he spoke in a whisper before he kissed the inside of her thighs and then got to work right away.

He’d woken her up much in the same way, lapping at her slowly until she was shaking and gasping as quietly as possible, not wanting to let anyone else hear what they were doing.

And just like the morning, she was quickly brought to her end with her palm covering her mouth and her other hand grasping the blankets below.

When he let go of her legs and her body melted into the bed below she lulled her head to the side to watch Harry as he pulled his pants and his briefs off and climbed over her frame. She realized what he was doing immediately so she opened her mouth wide for him, sticking her tongue out before he stuffed his cock into her mouth and pressed down into her throat, her soft lips wrapped around him and she coughed around his tip.

Harry grasped the back of her head up from the pillow underneath and rolled his hips down into her. He’d gotten her used to taking him like this. She was always eager to please him, though, so it didn’t take much work. Soon, she was a natural at opening up her throat and letting him fuck her mouth until she was drooling and gagging happily.

“Baby, fuck… Needed this all day.”

And he really had needed it. He left her in the morning without having had anything in return because he didn’t have time. She was always his priority. He always made sure she got off first, even if that meant he didn’t have time to also get off.

But now they had time. They could sleep in the next day and he could fuck her brains out, almost literally in that moment, with his cock filling her mouth and inching its way into her throat.

When she signaled she needed a breath he pulled out and brushed the hair from her face. She gasped and drew breaths into her lungs for a moment before opening her mouth up and lifting her head to find his cock again.

“Hold on, love… needy girl,” he chuckled as he moved off of her. He was ready to make love to her, feel her warm pussy, and make her come once more with him. Fill her with his come.

He preferred coming inside of her pussy lately. Harry wanted to get his girl pregnant. Wanted to knock her up and really have a claim on her. She was already his, but he dreamed of having her carrying his babies. A good handful of them. And when he brought it up to her a few months ago, she agreed she’d like that too. She wanted to give him as many babies as he wanted.

Harry laid on his back and pulled Y/n over him, “Want to see you fucking yourself on my cock and coming again.”

She loved doing this. When Harry would lie flat on the bed and she’d climb over him, his big cock reaching deep and spreading her apart, her knees down as she leaned back and put her hands over his thighs, sliding over him, giving him a good view of the way she liked to fuck herself on him. Then he’d thumb at her clit and she’d tip over the edge.

She positioned herself over him and lowered onto his dick, her hands on his pecs at first. Harry put his hands behind his head as he watched Y/n work herself down over him. Small, muted moans fell from her lips and Harry groaned at the way she felt around him.

When she’d taken him in and she was seated over him she hissed at how deep he was. It always ached so nicely, “Your tip is pushing into my womb. I can feel it. You’re going to get me pregnant, Harry,” she spoke as she leaned back, putting her palms over his well-muscled thighs and began rolling her hips, her labia parting and spread as his wide cock was stuffed into her.

Harry’s mouth dropped open at the sight and her words. She was filthy sometimes without even trying, “Fuck. You want my come deep inside your womb?” He spoke through gritted teeth, the way she was moving over him felt too good, “Gonna milk my cock of everything I have and get yourself pregnant, baby? Let’s see it. Let me see how you fuck my cock and make me come inside of you, greedy girl.”

She nodded and whined as she continued her work, slipping up and down his long prick, her arousal making a mess of him. Soon, she planted her feet flat onto the bed and began to really move over him, lifting upward and coming down with a wet smack each time.

Harry was panting and grunting, gently shifting his own hips upward out of instinct. He couldn’t help but to respond to her creamy pussy as she squeezed and moved over him.

“Oh god… Harry, please!” She gasped louder than she wanted. Her little plea was something he’d gotten used to during their year together. It meant she wanted to come but needed help.

So Harry swiftly moved his hands from behind his head and sat upward enough that he could reach to rub her clit and give it the kind of pressure she required.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need. Use my cock, baby.” Harry’s words were tight and breathy as he spoke in between pants.

“I want your come so bad. Want to make you a daddy.”

Harry nearly burst at that moment but he groaned and closed his eyes as he sped up his fingers at her clit. She was nearly there. Just a few more minutes.

When her thighs began to shake and her moans grew louder and her words were incoherent curses and babbles of nonsense he knew she was feeling or orgasm bubble up and begin to spread.

Yes, fuck, yes! Come on baby,” he moaned as he watched her face contort as her jaw dropped and she threw her head back suddenly, a loud call of his name followed by unhindered moans as she came. Her pussy pulsed around him as she got herself off with his cock. Harry groaned and released into her, bucking his hips up to push himself into the hilt and to get as close to her deepest spots inside as possible making her tits softly bounce.

“Fuck, baby!” He growled lowly as his come filled her up, his throbbing dick being squeezed and fucked as he came.

When Harry opened his eyes she was lying over his chest, small puffs of breath coming out as she recovered. Harry rubbed his palms over her back and kissed her forehead, “Love you, sweet girl.”

♤♤♤♤

Now, one of the reasons for Harry going to his associate's home 8 hours away from where they lived was to also discuss the fate of William. Harry had told Y/n he could just cut him off. And he could. That decision was Harry’s. But cutting someone off and ex-communicating them from the family was more difficult than just killing them. There were a few reasons for that but in the end, Harry wanted to make his girl happy. So he needed some advice from his associate who happened to be well acquainted with William from work dealings.

Breakfast was served the in mansion’s large dining room with tall windows and gaudy curtains hung. Everyone was at the table. Harry and his girl, his underboss Brad, the associate George, and his wife Blanca.

And Y/n didn’t know the details of what was going on. Nor did she know the status of her father. Harry kept her in the dark from most of their dealings on purpose. So when she heard her father’s name mentioned her ears perked up and she looked at Harry, who she was sitting on at that moment. He insisted she sit in his lap, which was not out of the ordinary. Most of Harry’s work partners and friends had gotten used to seeing the girl in his lap almost all the time.

“So he’s been a problem lately?” George spoke.

“He’s been a problem for a long time. We’d like to have him cut off from the family but we don’t know if he’s involved in anything else. And since you work with him regularly I thought I’d see if you had heard of anything else he might have his hands in. Money owed, things like that.”

Brad spoke next, “I told the boss we should just make him go away for good but the girl here is William’s daughter.”

George nodded, “I see. That makes this a difficult thing to say then, because I don’t see any way to cut him off with how many people would be after him. If you push him out and send him away without the protection of the family, he’ll be killed either way. But not before probably spilling details about your organization. And mine. He’ll be tortured and he’ll talk. It could compromise a lot of our operations.”

Y/n stayed quiet as she listened to the men talk about her father. She hadn’t realized this was a possibility. That William would need to be killed. It was one thing to have him cut off and she’d never hear from or see him again. But to know that he might be killed? Dead?

“Yes. That is my concern. I’d like a list of all of the relationships and affairs he’s got going on with your organization and then we’ll put something together on our end and make a decision about this,” he squeezed Y/n’s hip to let her know he was still keeping her wishes in mind.

On the road back home, Y/n finally voiced her concern about her father, “So we can’t cut him off or send him away, because that risks everything. But if he stays on in the organization… is there any other option?”

Harry wound their fingers together and pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, “You mean other than killing him? Sure. But I don’t think you’ll like any of the other options.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, he could just continue working and making money for us. I could keep him away from you but he will be around. Another thing that could work would be to frame him and send him to prison for good. He’d be protected in prison but you’d never have to see him again.”

“But won’t he talk to the police? Tell them he’d been set up?”

“Not if I make it look like a sacrifice of honor. Tell him I’ll raise his title and thus his respect in the organization. He won’t roll on us if he knows he’ll be doing it for the family and that he’ll be earning the respect of everyone.”

“But what would you frame him for? What would put him away in prison forever?”

“Murder.”

♤♤♤♤

Y/n understood that sometimes things in the organization could be violent. People died, went to jail, wound up in hospitals… But to think about her father being framed for a murder he didn’t commit? Could she come to terms with that? Who would have to die? Who would kill the person? She asked all these questions but, as usual, Harry told her not to worry.

But she was worried. And not just about William. She’d gotten news of something else that morning that shocked her. It shouldn’t have but it did. Unfortunately, the lingering questions she had about her father overshadowed everything else that was on her mind.

She hated William. That was true. But she didn’t want him dead. She also didn’t want Harry to get into trouble for anything. And when it came down to it, when she thought about all the outcomes, the worst were always the ones that had Harry in prison and away from her or dead. She actually preferred her dad dead than to have Harry go to prison.

Even though it had been weeks since Harry had met with George, she still hadn’t gotten word about what was going to become of William and she felt anxious. She hated not knowing. She trusted Harry but she needed to know what the plan was. She wanted Harry to tell her everything. It was for a reason that he kept her in the dark about things, but this was personal for her. This specific thing was about her father.

When Harry came home that evening their routine looked much like it normally did. Y/n climbed into his lap and kissed him and he held her and decompressed for a bit before he was ready to finally eat. She heated his food and poured him a glass of wine and they sat together at the dining table and she told him about her day.

But underneath what felt very normal to Harry, Y/n was getting up the nerve to insist he tell her the plan regarding William.

When she put his plate into the dishwasher and refilled her own glass of wine she joined him on the couch and curled into his side and sighed.

Looking up at him she realized there was nothing to worry about. Harry had never been mean to her or made her feel bad for asking questions. He’d either tell her or he wouldn’t. She only hoped she was able to argue her point and make him understand that this was something she deserved to know.

“What’s going on with William? Have you decided anything?”

Harry continued softly rubbing his hand over her hip and her side as he spoke, “I don’t want you to worry about it, love. Okay? Everything is going to be taken care of.”

She knew he’d answer that way. But she was prepared.

“I trust you, Harry. I really do. But this is my father. And this is personal to me. And you tell me not to worry but I do and I can’t help but to worry.”

Harry turned to look at his girl and nodded in thought. He knew it was personal to her. And normally when he told her not to worry about something she’d drop it. But the fact that she was doubling down on this made him pause. He still didn’t want her to know. He wanted to protect her from the awful truth.

“My sweet girl. I know this is personal. But what good will it do for you to know how we’ll go about this? You know our options here and none of them are very nice. I don’t want you to be upset thinking about it and dwelling on it.”

Y/n turned herself to face Harry squarely, “I’m already dwelling on it. I need to know. I deserve to know. I wouldn’t ask you and insist on something that doesn’t somehow involve me. But this does. I need to know.”

Harry smiled and took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to her face, and gently drew her in for a small kiss before he sat back into the couch and cleared his throat, “One of George’s men was involved in something that got him brutally killed. Right now we’ve made it look like William was the murderer. It’s only a matter of time before the police investigate him and find him guilty. And as you may know, your father has been arrested for battery and assault multiple times in the past and so a murder charge wouldn’t surprise anyone looking to find the perpetrator. He will go to prison for a very long time because the murder was quite savage. If the police think William did that, they won’t want him released.”

Y/n nodded and bit her lip before speaking up, “And like you said at George’s, he’ll think he’s doing a favor to the family? He won’t talk?”

“Exactly. We’ll make sure of it. We’ll supply him with plenty of my money on his account for commissary, and bartering. And he’ll have a nice cell by himself. He’ll be treated well but we’ll never have to worry about him again.”

She let out a breath of relief. It was ideal if it worked, “And you’re sure this will work out?”

Harry let out a small laugh and pulled at her, bringing her to his lap, his favorite way of sitting with her, “Baby, it’ll work. If you don’t think we have a cop on our payroll to make sure of it then you must not realize the kind of power I have.”

Y/n smiled and put her arms over his shoulders, “I know how powerful you are. And I am so happy I’m here with you,” she brought her arms down and took Harry’s hands in hers, moving his palms to cover her low tummy, “So happy for everything that’s to come.”

Harry stitched his brows together as he took in her words and her gesture, looking from where she placed his hands to her face, “Are you… is this?”

She nodded quickly, “We’re gonna have a baby.”

He was stunned into silence. He hadn’t expected it. Sure they’d been a little loose with him coming in her during her fertile days, and he knew they were both in their prime and fully fertile so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. This was what they had wanted.

“You… when did you find out?” Harry cupped her tummy with more intention now, his eyes wide.

“This morning.”

He let out a small breath and grinned from ear to ear, his dimples carving into his cheeks, and pushed Y/n off of his lap and down to the couch as he lifted her dress upward so he could look at her tummy, placing small kisses all around her skin and over her belly button. Y/n squeaked in laughter at the way his curls brushed her soft flesh as he drew his lips over her tummy slowly. She put her hands into his hair and sighed, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and continued dragging his mouth downward until he lowered her panties and looked up at her from between her legs, “I love you too, baby. Now let’s celebrate.”

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[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 15

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Tooth-decaying sweetness, talk of pregnancy/impregnation, unexpected visitor, references to rough sex, possessiveness. Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: After almost a year together, you and Marcus celebrate your first Valentine's Day together with a weekend trip away. Notes: We are inching closer to the wedding with every chapter! This week enjoy some sex and romance, Pike style.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

The flight from Dulles to JFK would be shorter, but there’s a certain charm to taking the train. The rhythmic clacking of the wheels on the track is almost romantic and Marcus had secured an entire compartment for you, him and Agent Sellers. Agent Bailey will meet you in New York with a car and to trade off with your other security detail, but for now, it seems like it’s just the two of you in the car. “Hotel first?” Marcus asks, kissing your fingertips and you look out the window at the passing scenery.

“Because you want to drop off our bags or because you want to test out the mattress?” Either way the answer is yes, and you relax in your seat all over again. This idea to go away for a few days for Valentine’s Day had made you feel guilty at first, but you were easy to convince once you remembered that it was around Valentine’s last year that everything has started to happen between you. Now that chaos of finishing the house and moving in together is over with, a couple of days in New York sounded perfect.

"I do need to see if your legs look different on my shoulders in New York than in D.C." he teases, wagging his eyebrows playfully. "Three days of no house details, no work, and all we have to worry about is walking out of our hotel room dressed."

“And making our reservations on time.” With your fingers tangled through his, this time you pull his hand over to kiss his fingers instead. “I may have called in a favor for our dinner tonight.”

"Where are we having dinner?" He had left the dinner reservations up to you, knowing you would have a list of favorite places you would want to go.

"Tonight we're going to see a friend," you hum, leaning into him as much as you can in your seat as the train speeds toward New York. "One of Syd's friends from culinary school opened a restaurant right in the city a couple of years ago and I've just never gotten the chance to go up and try it out. So I called in a favor and got us a reservation for after the theater tonight. Neo is an Italian steakhouse, which sounded right up your alley."

"Nice." He's impressed by the idea of a nice steakhouse that is close to you and Sydney. His hand slides down to your thigh and he squeezes it gently.

"And then tomorrow night..." Your hand over his on your thigh is basically just grounding. Holding you to him and making sure you don't float away on the bliss of having some time off with your fiancé. "Every time we watch FoodTV you get obsessed with watching Alex Guarnaschelli, so I got us a reservation at Butter."

"Really?" His eyes widen in delight and he can't believe that you would go through the trouble for something like that. It's the small things that you notice that makes him feel special. You do so many little things that show him you pay attention to his interests, passing or intense. "That's— wow." He shakes his head. "Thank you."

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. The train ride was a special treat but now that you’re almost in the city you’re eager for your trip to really begin. “I love you more than anything.”

"I love you too." He leans his own head against yours. "I booked our tickets to the Met." He tells you quickly, knowing you will like that.

“I’m sooooo excited for museum time with my own personal art expert.” He claims he isn’t, but you’ve learned in the last year not to listen to his protests. He practically gives guided tours whenever you go to the Smithsonian together.

He rolls his eyes playfully but he doesn’t naysay. He knows that you look at it as a point of pride almost. “Anything else you want to do? I think it’s a little too cold to take a boat out in Central Park.”

"There are a million museums and historical sites." And you can't wait to explore each and every one of them with him. "It's just too bad it's too early in the year for a ball game."

“We can always make a summer day trip.” Marcus immediately offers. “Maybe the subway series?”

"That would be fun." You perk up instantly at the idea of it. "The MET is tomorrow, so how about we ask the concierge at the hotel what their favorite underrated attraction is for today before the theater?"

“That sounds good.” He agrees. “Something that is kind of off the beaten path sounds fun.”

The last hour of the trip is smooth sailing, and early check-in at your hotel means that you and Marcus are unpacking your suitcases in almost no time. It’s snowy in New York but not in a way that will add up, and it makes the whole thing look quite picturesque from your seventh-floor window.

“Too bad the fireplaces have been closed for years.” Marcus comments. “Couldn’t you imagine curling up next to a fire and watching the snow fall?”

“Next year let’s rent a cabin,” you hum, leaning back in his arms as you look out the window together. “Get snowed in.”

“That sounds like something we can definitely do.” For the suggestion, you deserve a kiss. “Unless you are pregnant. Then I don’t know if I would want to risk it.”

“If I’m pregnant we’ll choose a very easily accessible hotel where we can watch the snow fall instead.” His concern is sweet enough to earn him a kiss in return, and they’re getting longer every time. “Someplace where we can get snacks delivered.”

“Pregnancy cravings.” Marcus practically moons at the idea and he cups your cheeks to kiss you again.

“So…I’ve been thinking about something.” This calls for a face to face conversation, and you turn around in his arms.

“Oh yeah?” He doesn’t think that it’s anything bad, you come to him when something heavy is on your mind. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking, sweetheart.”

The two of you have always agreed that the timing of your lives needed to be a joint conversation, but somehow you don’t think this particular idea is going to need much debating. Not much if any, knowing Marcus. “I think I’d like to stop taking my birth control the day before the wedding,” you tell him, slipping both arms around his waist. “I know it might not happen for us immediately, but I think everything else has fallen into place for us so maybe this might, too.”

Marcus tilts his head, a slow smile spreading over his face and lighting it up. “Yeah? You want to do that?” He asks quietly. “I— I think that’s perfect.” He admits. “As long as you are ready.”

You're glowing as you lean into him, already feeling like you could burst with happiness and pride. "I'd say we should start now but there's no way my wedding dress will fit me if I'm pregnant."

“I want you to be able to drink a toast at our wedding if we can help it.” Marcus admits.

"Especially since you went through all the trouble to pick out good toasting champagne with the wedding planner." It had been an entire conversation of wine pairings and champagne choices that you hadn't understood a word of but watching Marcus get excited about tasting notes had been well worth it.

“I think you will enjoy it. It will go well with our wedding cake.” He reminds you, knowing you are excited for the replica cake the bakery in Boston had fallen over over themselves to agree to bake.

"I'm excited for everything to come together." After so easily picking out bridesmaids' dresses last weekend and even finding a mother of the bride dress at the same shop, the wedding is feeling like everything is really falling into place. "Last things are to pick a place for the rehearsal dinner and to book our honeymoon."

“We’ve had so many ideas for our honeymoon…” he laughs quietly, remembering all the various places you’ve both come up with. “Have we actually decided on where we are going to go?”

"I think we've talked about almost every place on earth," you laugh right along with him. "But no. We haven't decided. I think the last time we talked we said it should be someplace that neither of us have been."

“Maybe we need to make a honeymoon wheel.” Marcus snorts. “Have you seen the trend where a guy will make a restaurant wheel to spin when their girlfriend or wife can’t decide?” He shrugs. “We could do the same thing with our honeymoon ideas.”

“Hotel room crafts.” It’s silly and sweet enough of an idea to make you giggle, and you press more kisses to Marcus’s lips and cheeks. “I don’t know about making a wheel, but we could do slips of paper with destinations on them in the ice bucket instead of a hat.”

“Like a lottery drawing.” He snorts. “That could be fun.”

“I have a notebook in my purse.” Which doesn’t surprise him one bit, but you tug Marcus back into the room from the window. “Grab the ice bucket?”

“In a minute.” He smirks and his hands slide from your waist to your ass. “You remember what I told you I wanted to do on the train?” He coos, leaning in and kissing your neck.

“Mmmmhmm.” A soft moan of approval and agreement sounds from deep in your throat, but you feel like teasing him just a tiny bit. “Something about…shoulders?”

“Your legs, my shoulders.” He grinds his hips against yours, his hardening cock proof of his desire and he smirks. “I need to see if you taste different in New York.”

It is pretty much never difficult to convince either of you when a good time to be intimate has appeared, and you nudge him backward again toward the bed. “Then why are we still wearing clothes?”

“That’s a good question.” He goes willingly and he reaches for the edge of your sweater to pull it up. “You’re wearing far too many of them right now.”

Sweaters, t-shirts, pants, and everything else end up scattered around the room, littering the carpet with evidence of the romance in the air. Marcus has you laid out on your back on the bed in no time and you happily tug him down to you for a kiss when he climbs in with you.

“My gorgeous hummingbird.” His hands slide over your clavicle and he kisses your collar bone gently. Worshipfully. “My love, my soulmate.”

“I love you.” Simple words, but meant with all the feeling in the world as your limbs curl around him and you melt under his kisses.

“I. Love. You. Too.” Every word is punctuated by a kiss. Making sure that he teases and caresses your skin with his lips.

“Baby.” After almost a year together, you and Marcus have no trouble finding the right buttons to push. You know each other’s favorite things, each other’s ticks and hidden kinks. You know Marcus adores being showered in praise just you like him to have a firm hand. The flow of your relationship has been built on respect and trust and mutual admiration. Which has made experimenting and finding the things you enjoy together all the more rewarding.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Marcus pops his head up, eyes dark and fixed on you. “What do you want me to give you, sweet thing? I’ll give you anything you want, you just have to tell me.”

"Just you, baby." Anything and everything he is will to give you is always what you want. Just him. As much of Marcus as he is willing and able to pour into you any time you have moments to yourself.

“You have me, baby. You’ve got all of me.” He groans, adding to teeth to his kisses as he starts to move down your body.

"All of me." It's so true. And true for both of you. The complete devotion you have to each other is obvious. Lying naked wrapped in each other's arms might be the most honest and most vulnerable you ever are, and there is no one in the world you are more grateful to share that feeling with.

Marcus groans, your words of affirmation and affection always affect him, but none like they do when you are both stripped bare. When there is nothing between you but the air and your beating hearts. He drops a featherlight kiss on your stomach, which will one day hopefully protect his children, and then down to your hip.

"We really need to start asking hotels if they have sound proof rooms," you giggle, already sighing as Marcus moves lower and lower on your body.

"Let them hear." He chuckles, never having a problem with others knowing how satisfied you are. He brings your leg up onto his shoulder as he settles between your thighs and he licks his lips as he parts your folds to expose the sensitive little clit that he will lavish with attention.

The touch of his fingers makes you gasp, but you still chuckle despite yourself and know that you'll hold back more here than you do at home. Having the house finally be finished has been a blessing. "Last thing we need is a sound bite of the First Daughter getting eaten out."

"Then it's a good thing they don't have access to those little videos we've made, isn't it?" He smirks, having enjoyed the clips of sexy scenes both of you had made together and while you were apart to send to each other. They were in a locked file and heavily guarded so no one could get to them.

"Well I don't want you to miss me while you're on a long case," you rationalize, letting out another deep sigh as his finger paints a long stripe along your slit.

"Oh I always miss you." He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose against your clit before he samples a small taste of your essence.

He knows how to make you moan. He knows as well as he knows his own name. And yet the first moment your back lifts off the mattress always takes you by surprise and you have to remind yourself not to squeeze his head too tight between your thighs when they clench with that first feeling of pleasure. "Fuck, baby."

The noises you make are always so fucking sweet. He’s addicted to them, to you. His own groan is sounded into your pussy as his tongue flutters around, sweeping the edges of your folds in a pattern that always makes you whine.

The fingers of one hand twist into his curls and you’re prepared to thank every possible god all over again that Marcus has been growing out his hair. It’s all his own style of course, but you don’t mind having a handle to keep him close as he devours your pussy every chance he gets.

The small whine of pleasure that he gives at the pressure of your hand in his hair is one you thoroughly enjoy and he gives you that sound every time his cock twitches against the bed. Making him even more eager in his task as he flicks his tongue over your soaked hole.

Curses and praise and moans of pleasure fill the room, babble verging on incoherent as Marcus plays you with as much skill as his bass or guitar. It’s the w of pleasure that makes you feel like you’re floating all the way above the mattress. It’s ecstasy, all on the curls and flicks of your soulmate’s tongue.

Marcus has always enjoyed sex, enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure, but there is something incredibly unique about his intimacy with you. There is a fusion of your bodies that match your souls, where your pleasure magnifies his own and he gets lost in it.

You shatter for him as easily as breathing, although in the moment you come apart you’ve replaced panted breaths with an orgasm so intense that your mind goes blank as you sob his name into the bright white afternoon. It’s almost like being at peace, the way he breaks you apart and puts you back together with tender caresses and loving kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your come down is his favorite part of foreplay. The pliant limbs and pleasure warmed skin. He loves the dazed look in your eyes, as if you are surprised by how good you feel. “Maybe I need another taste.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Babyyy.” You whine and grab his shoulder when he ducks his head like he’s going to travel down your body again. “Don’t you need to see if I ride you just as well in New York?”

He stops, tilts his head as if he is considering that point before he sighs. Making it seem like it’s a big concession on his part. “I think that needs to be explored too.” You love to ride him and he always lets you be in control when you want it, since so often you want him in control.

“It seems very important.” You nod in agreement, grinning lazily to see his eyes light up at the prospect of having your tits in his face while you bounce on him.

He comes back up to kiss you thoroughly before rolling onto his back. His hard cock laying against his stomach as he reaches out and caresses your side. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

It’s just teasing, but you straddle his waist and lean over to press a kiss over his heart before shifting back into position. “That’s a very dangerous thing to promise your fiancée.”

“Not at all.” His hands find your waist and he squeezes gently. “I mean every word.”

“Dangerous.” You admonish him again with a tsk, but sink down on his length all the same — making both of you gasp and moan in unison.

Marcus’s eyes flutter closed with a silent prayer of thanks. His fingers digging into your flesh and for a second, he wishes you were already off your birth control. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He groans when you roll your hips in a little circle and clench down around him.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good.” Letting your head fall back makes it feel like he’s gotten all the way up into your throat and your whole body tightens like a bowstring in response.

“That’s because you’re so perfect.” He groans in appreciation, rocking his hips up. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He flashes a grin and twitches inside you. “Last little cunt I’ll ever fuck too.”

"All yours." As many times as you promise him that, it never diminishes how much you mean it. He has your whole heart for your whole life. "All yours and you're all mine and fuck you have the best cock in the world."

He chuckles, proud of your happiness with his abilities. His hand slides up your neck to cup the back of your head as he drags you down for a kiss.

The rhythm you set is quick but thorough, making sure to rise and fall on every inch of him to swallow his moans in equally thorough kisses.

He loves when you ride him. Your tits bounce and your kisses are greedy, leaving him to touch you how he wants to while you use his cock for your pleasure. “Fuck, baby.” He grunts, twitching when you swivel your hips.

The figure eights you draw in his lap are his favorite. They always have been. They're brilliantly drawn out and exaggerated to leave him groaning and greedy, pawing at you as you bounce on him. It's greedy for both of you in different ways, which is probably why this is one of your favorite positions.

“You’re teasing me.” Marcus huffs, lunging up to capture one tit in his mouth and scrape his teeth over your sensitive nipple.

"You — ah! — love when I tease you." And since he's so good at teasing you back, you don't ever hesitate.

Marcus just groans against your breast and slaps your ass playfully. Rocking you harder on his cock as his mouth works your breast.

It’s the hungry kind of sex where you know you’ll be sticky and sweaty and need a shower after. Where you know Marcus is going to leave teeth marks pebbling your skin. Where you know without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be achy and feeling him in your theater seat tonight. And it’s exactly the right kind of fierceness for both of you, so you amp up your pace and throw your head back, letting the bliss of it all wash over you. Lovemaking is what you’ll do tonight, with moonlight streaming through the windows and soft touches and whispered promises. This is a deeply cathartic and energizing fuck — the perfect way to start your weekend.

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses and his fingers slide down to find your clit. Sensing the urgency to your pace and knowing how badly he wants to see you fall apart for him before he finds his own release.

Your whine of agreement is high from the added touch. His fingertips are calloused, giving you added friction as well as added tension, and every time you roll your hips you get more pressure and friction. It's stunning, the way he drives you toward the edge of that cliff of pleasure, and your head spins from how close you are.

“That’s it baby, you’re so good to me.” Marcus groans, loving how you just give him everything you’ve got. “So pretty on my cock. You gonna cum for me? You know I want to see it. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

"I'm so close baby." So close that you feel like you're about to fall over onto his chest from the way you're tensing up. Every part of you is tense, right down to the way your greedy cunt is clamping down on his cock.

“That’s it, fuck- you’re so tight.” Marcus hisses, watching you as your hips stutter and your shoulders start to shake. “So good baby, want to feel you.”

"Fuck, fuck, oh my god, Marcus!" The freedom to cry out, even though you joked about volume earlier, isn't lost on you. The way you tense and shatter and cry his name is his favourite music in the world.

He can’t help himself. Lunging up, he presses his lips to yours desperately and rolls you over to keep pistoning his hips and drilling into your spasming walls. Working you higher through your orgasm and chasing his own.

It would be a whole different ballgame if you were already off your birth control, but you still want Marcus to cum inside you. There's no better or more indulgent feeling in the world, so you wrap your legs around his waist and shake with the last waves of your own orgasm knowing that it will bring him toward his own.

“I love you, I love you. I love you.” Marcus begins to chant as his hips rock forward desperately, barely pulling back as he feels his body pull tight.

"I love you." Those words never diminish, especially not when he's driving his hips forward to bury his cock deep inside you, coating your walls with his searing hot release.

He whines your name as he rides out the release of every tense bone in his body. Pouring himself into you as he collapses against you. “Fuck.” He huffs, face buried against your neck and panting softly. “Always.” He murmurs, kissing a damp patch of skin over your pulse.

“Always.” A fact which leaves you breathless and tangled up in each other more often than not. Right now you hold him tight, hanging on to a confessional sigh. “I almost wish I was off my birth control already,” you admit quietly.

“Me too.” He chuckles because the two of you seem to always be so in sync about your goals and desires. “But we know that it would be better to keep to our original timeline.”

"It's a nice dream, though." Your fingers run up his shoulder and through his hair, and the softness in your eyes is pure adoration when your eyes meet again. "And I can't wait for it to come true."

“I know.” He smiles softly as he presses his lips to yours. “You know I’m going to be feral over you.” He warns. “Not going to be able to stop touching you.”

"Oh nooo." The laugh in your voice is as joyous as your smile but you toss a tone of sarcasm into your teasing. "That will be terrible. I just hate when my fiancé, the sexiest man in the whole world, wants to fuck me."

“You might hate sex while you are pregnant.” He huffs, knowing he would hate it, but he would never pressure you to sleep with him if you don’t feel like it. From what he can tell, it’s hard work to grow a human.

"I don't think I will." Of course, you can't be sure. But as you stretch your neck to kiss him again you enjoy the image tucked away in your mind. "I think I'm going to melt in your arms every single time like I already do."

“I love you.” The simple words are more vow than statement, completely true and undeniable. Luckily, the nasty rumors have tapered off and you have been able to enjoy the wedding planning so far.

"I love you, too." It doesn't take much surging to kiss him one more time, and then you're grinning all over again. "Now...how do you feel about naked honeymoon planning?"

“Naked anything with you is good for me.” He jokes. “Unless it’s frying bacon.”

"Aprons when we cook." You quote Sydney with a grin. "I think I can walk. I'll grab the notebook from my purse and we can write down the ideas we're serious about?"

“If you can’t, I’ll grab it for you.” He smirks, a little pleased when you are unsteady on your feet climbing out of the bed after he rolls off of you.

"Why don't you grab the ice bucket, baby?" Your purse is much closer to the bed than anything else, so it barely takes you two shaky steps before you're slumping back onto the mattress with a grin.

“Can’t make it, can you?” He chuckles as he stands up and crosses over to the desk where the ice bucket is located.

"Shut up." A playful little huff and a pout comes from the bed as you stick your tongue out at him. So what if you barely made it? You managed to grab your notebook and a pen and that's what matters. "You fucked me so good I can't walk, be nice."

He winks at you. “I fucked you so good you can’t walk because I’m nice.”

"I love you very much, now come and get back in bed," you stick your tongue out again and pick up your pen. "So what are your top choices. Are we doing top three each or top five?"

“I say we do five.” Marcus suggests, grinning as he saunters back over and plops down beside you with the bucket. “And then we use the bucket idea for the next nine anniversaries.”

"That's actually super cute." So much that it earns him a kiss when he comes and sits back down with you. A sheet of paper from your notebook is torn up into ten strips, and you hand him five. "I'm thinking my top five are Paris, Scotland, Napa Valley, New Zealand..." You grin unapologetically. "And Disney."

He shakes his head, faking a disappointed pout. “No naked honeymoon in Disney.” He grumbles. “We would be banned and then our kids would never forgive us.”

“We can still be naked in the hotel,” you remind him, grinning unapologetically as you drop the last destination into the ice bucket.

“Yeah, yeah.” He swats your thigh gently and sighs. “So I need to pick other destinations, right?”

“That’s the idea.” Being done before him lets you lay back in the pillows and idly stir the slips in the ice bucket while he thinks.

“Okay, okay…” he takes the notepad you’ve left on the bed and writes on the first one. “Ireland.” He shoots you a grin. “It’s different from Scotland.”

“Yes, it is.” You smirk at him, wondering if he’s going to pick places near all of yours.

“Let’s see…” He taps his chin. “Ohhhh Bora Bora would be good.” He scribbles it down. “Fruity alcoholic drinks, and tiny bikinis for you the entire time.”

That earns a grin from you, and you lean over to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Tiny bikinis are a favorite vacation theme for you.”

“It’s as close to naked as I can get you.” He huffs. “Unlessssss…” Marcus flashes you a teasing grin. “We go to one of those nudist resorts. Should I write Hedonism II down?”

“You try explaining that to my mother when she asks for vacation photos,” you snort, knowing that that choice would go over like screen doors on a submarine.

“Yeah…no to Hedonism.” He doesn’t write that, but he pretends to and mimes ripping the sheet out and balling it up. “How about Chile?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Atacama Desert or Easter Island.”

“Chile would be gorgeous. It’s too bad we couldn’t bring your bike down with us.” The image makes you hum, and your shoot him a grin. Marcus sitting astride his motorcycle in any setting just does things to you. “We’ll have to rent one when we go.”

“Absolutely.” He has rediscovered his love of having a woman on the back of his bike and often will bring you along if you can get away for a quick drive in the evenings.

“So…Ireland, Bora Bora, Chile,” you prompt him, tucking off your fingers. “Two more.”

“Greece.” Marcus decides and sends you a small smirk. “Rome.” He writes them down as well so they can be added to the trip bucket.

“Alright.” Dropping each slip into the ice bucket and stirring it around, you give it a few shakes for good measure before holding it high above either of your sight lines and angling it toward Marcus. “Go ahead. What’s our honeymoons going to be?”

Marcus grins and takes the bucket from your hands. “Let’s not pick now.” He teases. “Why don’t we pick at the end of our vacation?”

“You live to torture me!” You groan dramatically, dropping the ice bucket between you. “Do you really want to wait?”

“You don’t want to?” He teases, leaning in and kissing you playfully. “I guess we can decide now.” He rolls his eyes and picks the bucket up. “You choose. That way you can’t blame me.”

"Blame he says, as though they aren't all great choices." It calls for blowing a raspberry in his general direction, but you dip your hand into the ice bucket high above your head and swirl your fingers around to snag a single slip of paper. "Here we go," you intone dramatically, pulling the slip open and wiggling it around. "Looks like it's going to beeee..." Flipping the paper up, you grin at him. "Scotland!"

Marcus laughs at the glee on your face, knowing he would be happy going anywhere with you. “A stone cottage in the Scottish highlands where we walk the moors and burrow into each other in front of a roaring fire sounds perfect.” He puts on a thick Scottish accent for the dramatic flair.

"We can see the Highlands and the cities and go all over." Actually having a location picked out makes you giggle with excitement, and you lean over to kiss him before practically jumping out of bed. "Just like we can go explore this city right now. With clothes, of course."

“Now she can walk.” Marcus groans, climbing out of the bed after you. “What do you want to do before Ellis Island?”

"We should check what time the ferry runs." The concierge downstairs had given you a few ideas but ultimately you had decided to take the trip out to Ellis and Liberty Islands. It’s an important piece of American history and Agent Bailey won’t admit to it but she’s excited to look up her family from their crossing. "Why don't we grab a quick lunch? Give ourselves back some of the energy that we just burned off?"

“That sounds perfect.” He agrees, unable to resist grabbing a handful of your ass when you bend down to pick up your clothes. “Build up reserves for tonight.”

It's hardly a surprise when you and Marcus end up in a little café halfway between your hotel and the ferry to Ellis Island, ready to feast on French bistro classics for lunch. It's warm in the picturesque little restaurant and the snow is still falling without collecting on the sidewalk, so it's a picture-perfect winter day in the city.

“I think it’s safe to say that I will have to have the French onion soup.” Marcus tells you as he looks over the menu. “At least to start. What about you?”

"I think it's going to be a boeuf bourguignon day," you hum, spotting the item on the lunch menu and salivating over it immediately.

“Would you hate me for hurting Thumper if I had the rabbit cassoulet for the main?” He’s grinning and shrugging slightly.

"Not if you won't hate me for having cute little escargot for my first course." The one time he had expressed finding snails cute had obviously stuck with you, and since they're one of your favorite gourmet treats, it's a fair trade.

He huffs in feigned offense and sighs dramatically. “I suppose.” He jokes. “It’s only fair and I know it makes you happy.”

"What do you want to see first at the MET tomorrow?" The café is buzzing around you but you're happy in your little bubble. Just you and Marcus, cuddled together and happily plotting out the rest of your day.

“I’m not picky?” Marcus asks, playing with your fingers. “But Lady with a Parot and Perseus.” He rattles off with a guilty grin.

"Not picky, but two very specific choices." You grin at him, charmed all over again by the beauty and relaxation of the day. Agent Bailey is enjoying herself at a table across the café, also doing her best to relax despite being in the busy city. "Okay, you're on. And I want to track down Madame X."

“The American Wing.” Marcus instantly replies.

"That's my man." Of course he knows, that doesn't surprise you at all.

What does surprise you is the woman walking behind the hostess, currently approaching your table to be seated right next to you. "Vanessa?" Of all the gin joints in all the world, you think ruefully, but it's been so long since you heard from either her or Sam that you're just sort of shell shocked to see her instead of upset or angry about it.

Marcus turns to see the ex that he had hoped to never run into again - even more than Teresa - and wonders what the hell is about to happen. He warily glances behind her and around the smaller café. “This is a surprise.” He intones dryly.

“Just a coincidence.” Vanessa promises. She thanks the hostess and takes a seat, though she wishes there was literally any other table left. “I’m just having a bite after class. Forget I’m here.”

“Class?” That catches Marcus’s attention and he glances over at you to make sure that you are comfortable continuing the conversation. He feels like if there’s a change in the dynamic of your foes, you should learn all you can.

You nod subtly, but Vanessa doesn’t catch it. She’s thanking the waitress for her water. “Class,” she confirms when the waitress is gone. “I’m getting my master’s. I—” she looks between you, her former foes, and shrugs slightly. “A lot has changed.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” There’s no pressure to be applied, but it’s an offer. An olive branch, just like the one extended at the engagement party.

That’s a bit of a sticky question, but Vanessa nods. Her own is far less subtle than yours, as it’s meant to be seen. “I left Sam,” she begins, feeling that that is the most important news. “He was…he was getting out of control. There was never going to be an end to it as long as he had people on his side.”

Marcus squeezes your hand gently, the confirmation of it being on purpose was right there between the lines. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly. “When you said you had discovered your soulmate, it was Sam, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Vanessa confirms. There’s no reason to beat around the bush after everything that’s happened. “He’s just…he’s not the man he was when I first fell in love with him. Not anymore.”

“Vanessa….” Marcus sighs softly. “What was the root of the issue? We didn’t cheat. Why was Sam so obsessed with hurting us?” He phrases it that way so she doesn’t feel like he’s attacking her, and because he honestly never really imagined Vanessa being the ringleader. Now it seems as if she was a hopeless idealist, blindly following her soulmate down the wrong path.

She sighs, biting her lip slightly, and looking between you both with regret shining in her eyes. "Birdie was supposed to be his ticket to the White House," she admits, although the confession isn't hers to make. "When Marcus appeared on the scene he started getting paranoid, and then...then when you broke up with him? He seemed like he was just taking it a little too hard in the beginning but he started to go down a dark path pretty quickly."

“Did he hurt you?” Marcus’s voice gets soft, his jaw tense at the idea of violence perpetrated against any woman, even one who has wronged him. “Or made threats against Birdie we should know about?”

"No. No, he never would have had the resolve to hurt me physically. And the only threats he made never worked out." Vanessa assures him. "The worst founded one was the engagement party. Whatever you two and your social media team did to get ahead of that, well done."

“You went along with it because he’s your soulmate?” Marcus guesses. “The rumors and the whispers that were being fed from somewhere?”

"I can't exactly defend myself." Vanessa twists in her chair to face you fully, so this conversation can be quiet. "I was jealous."

"Of me...for being with the man you were in love with." You finish her thought without effort, understanding the instinct fully but from the opposite direction. "I was jealous of you. When you were with Marcus. We just...we had things switched around, I guess."

Marcus frowns, never realizing that she had been so involved with her feelings in the brief relationship. “I thought…you were waiting for your soulmate and just having fun with me?”

"I was trying to get over Sam." This is bound to be an uncomfortable conversation of confessions for Vanessa, but she is going to tell the truth. "In a sense you were a rebound for a relationship I never had. And when I realized who my soulmate was I thought everything was finally going to work out the way I wanted. But...that was even more wrong than I ever could have guessed."

“I’m sorry.” Marcus murmurs softly. “I hope that one day, you find the love and happiness you have been searching for.”

"I think I have to love myself first." Vanessa shrugs her shoulders and laughs. "I know that sounds cheesy, but...I started seeing a therapist and I got myself into grad school, and taking control of my own life has been really good for me."

“That’s great.” Marcus assures her, squeezing your hand again and glancing at you. “I can tell you that therapy will be good for you. Doesn’t matter what you’re going through. Sometimes it’s good to just learn how to cope with life.”

"I'm doing my best." Marcus has always been a kind man. It's good to know that that is just who he is, and that Vanessa hadn't been so blinded to people's good natures as to have misjudged him at any point. "I really want to apologize to both of you. Some of the things we did...that I did for him...were truly despicable. If I could take it all back, I would."

It’s not his place to accept an apology, especially when most of the attacks were focused on you. He squeezes your hand again, and defers to you.

"I wish we could have made amends sooner." You tell her, gently squeezing Marcus's hand in return. "But I'm glad that things are looking up for you, Vanessa. And I hope they continue to go in a positive direction. Nobody deserves to be defined by their mistakes when they're trying to better themselves."

It’s a gracious acceptance of the offered apology and so on point for who you are that Marcus wants to kiss you. “I completely agree.” He adds. “You focus on yourself and things will work out for the best.”

"That's very kind of both of you." And probably more than she deserves, but Vanessa isn't going to split hairs when she's stumbled into the chance to move forward. "And very diplomatic. It's...it's very easy to see, from the outside, why you're such a beloved couple." A fact which had made you both difficult to tear down, and is probably why Sam failed so entirely.

“We had some not so diplomatic moments.” Marcus admits, feeling that she is owed some truth as well. “But we aren’t going to punish you for mistakes that you are owning up to and trying to rectify.”

"Thank you." Vanessa half-smiles, looking around the small café, and makes the decision for herself with a small feeling of relief letting her shoulders relax for the first time in longer than she cares to admit. "I should let you enjoy your lunch," she says after a pause, and she stands. "It...was good to run into you. To clear the air."

“Good luck.” He won’t ask her to stay and continue the conversation and neither will you, but he wishes her well as she gathers her things.

"That was...unexpected." You murmur, watching Vanessa cross the street outside quickly, and duck into a pub instead of the little café you're still sitting in.

“Yeah.” Marcus blows out a breath and picks up your other hand. “How do you feel about it?”

"Weirdly...good?" It feels awful to admit, but getting an apology from someone who was actively trying to ruin your life not so long ago feels incredibly settling. "Or at least it feels validating. To know that we weren't crazy in thinking that Sam really was trying to hurt us so actively." It also feels awful to know that you were right about your ex not caring about you during your entire relationship, but that is a separate issue.

He sees the frown and he brings your hands up to kiss them gently. “At least we know now. You know.”

“Knowing is good.” You can agree to that, even as downtrodden as you feel right now. You got out of the relationship, found your soulmate, and are getting married. Everything is falling into place in the best way possible. But the sticky, icky, despicable sensation in your chest at being used isn’t exactly nice. “It still doesn’t feel good, though.”

“No it doesn’t.” He knows that feeling in a sense. Looking back at things objectively, it seemed like Teresa used him to prod Jane along, to pull his buried feelings out of him. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” He asks softly, hating how your shoulders are rounded and your voice has dipped down.

“No.” This awful feeling will pass, you’ll regain your good humor, and this weekend won’t be ruined by a chance encounter in a restaurant. You won’t let it happen. “Let’s enjoy our lunch.”

He wants to ask if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. Giving you a reassuring smile, he glances towards the waiter. “How about a glass of wine?”

Determined to smile and to not be upset over a relationship that you ended willingly to begin with, you sit up your seat, roll your shoulders back, and turn your eyes back to Marcus. “Something bubbly, I think? We’re on vacation, after all.”

He smiles and nods. “I think that is completely appropriate. And it looks like they have a nice champagne on the menu.”

“Perfect.” You squeeze Marcus’s hand gently, thanking him for sticking with you through the tidal waves of clashing emotions you’re dealing with.

“Not nearly as perfect as you are.” There’s an odd sense of relief to have that chapter firmly closed, at least on Vanessa’s end. “Hopefully nothing else will happen.”

“Fingers crossed.” Huffing a soft laugh, you just shrug your shoulders and get in with ordering your lunch. It does no good to dwell and ruin the time away you have with Marcus. No good at all.

Panting, Marcus stares at the ceiling, nearly giggling at the bubbly, blissed out exhaustion that settles in the very marrow of his body. “Good girl.” He praises. “Good fucking girl.” Your own body is collapsed in a spent heap and he trails his fingers over your spine as you come down from the last, most intense orgasm of the night.

A matching giggle bubbles out of you as you curl into his side, utterly spent and gazing up at him with moony eyes. “Baby…” you laugh again, and half-turn toward him lamely. Your wrists are still bound with the tie he wore out to dinner. “Can I have my hands back?”

“Maybe I like you all bound up for me.” He teases, turning and working on the knots that are now harder than what he had originally tied because of you pulling and tugging on the restraint. Eager to touch him and frustrated by your inability to do so. “Next time I’ll tie you to the bed.”

“We’ll be back in our big four poster at home tomorrow night.” With your hands free, you loop your arms around his neck to kiss him soundly. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

“There’s something about being at home, isn’t there?” He asks, his hand coming up and tenderly caressing your throat where he had held it as he pounded into you. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Perfect level of rough,” you promise. Experimenting with his more dominant side had turned into a much-loved habit over your year together, and though you don’t get rough every single time you have sex it is definitely something you both enjoy.

“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” He asks. “Water, a rag?” Sometimes you like to keep his cum inside you, sometimes you like to clean up right after. And after every rough session, he likes to dote on you.

“I should say water.” Your eyes gleam with mischief. “But do we have any more wine? That bottle we bought in the Village was amazing.”

He smirks at your cheeky response and leans in to bite your bottom lip. “Sure.” He hums before he is climbing off the bed to get the lovely wine the two of you indulged in before your romp.

Tonight is one of those nights that you both indulged in the fantasy of getting pregnant, and lying in bed with a glass of wine with the sticky slick combination of your cum slowly dripping from your pussy sounds like pure indulgence. Plus you stashed Marcus’s Valentine’s gift in the bedside table, so there’s that too. You grab it now and slip it under your pillow, waiting for him to come back.

Pouring two glasses he turns back to admire your sprawled form as he bites his lip. It’s Valentine’s Day and the two of you have completely indulged today. Now, he needs to give you the gift he had picked out months ago.

“What’s that look for?” You hum, grinning back at him when he returns to your side in bed. “Did you suddenly remember how amazingly lucky I am to have you as my soulmate?”

“More like I remember how lucky I am.” He retorts. “I have a wonderful, sexy woman who indulges my desires and matches them.”

“So I guess we’re both lucky, then.” He hands you your glass and you take a sip, glad that you opted for a white wine tonight so you won’t accidentally ruin the sheets if you get playful. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles as he leans in to take a kiss from your wine soaked lips. “Have you enjoyed our weekend away?”

“To me it’s been perfect.” There are more kisses for both of you, never able to have enough of tasting or even just being near each other. “Have you enjoyed it too?”

“Hell yes I have.” He promises. “It’s been an incredible weekend, one we needed. No work, just us.”

“I’m just glad we both got through the weekend without any work emergencies.” The inn is in good hands, as Selena has finished her training to become your new manager and she and Malachi are running the place as smoothly as ever between them in your absence.

“Yeah, me too.” He takes a sip of the wine and sighs softly. “Part of me doesn’t want to go back. Just live in the hotel and run away from responsibility.”

“You would miss work pretty soon.” He loves his job, and you know that. It’s a very serious point of pride even though it’s very taxing on him sometimes. “My offer still stands, my love. Whenever you decide to retire from the FBI, you have my full support.”

“I know, and I’m very grateful for your support.” He promises. “It will come eventually, but I’m happy in my career right now and my team is excellent.”

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” you promise him. With Marcus it’s always about support and communication, so having the small check-ins often is key.

“How about you?” He asks. “The inn is becoming even more popular and nearly full every night.”

“It’s nice that we’re not seeing the after affects of the smear campaign anymore.” It seems like the good will from your social media posts surrounding wedding planning has really worked to verse the damage Sam did months ago, and ever since the holidays the inn has been booked solid. “I’ve been thinking about adding an afternoon tea,” you admit, giving him a sheepish look. “Syd’s sous chef is English and French trained and the three of us were thinking about trying out an Italian-inspired tea service for Mother’s Day.”

“Like the tea cakes and sandwiches?” Marcus smirks slightly. “I can see that being a real draw.” He admits. “Older ladies coming in to socialize and then young girls coming in to learn how to take tea. Paninis and cannolis. Cups of tiramisu.”

“Teacups full of individual tiramisu was Syd’s first idea.” It’s sweet to see him get excited and you glow with pride. “I thought it would be nice to give Syd this Mother’s Day off but she came back with a whole new business idea.”

“I think she’s imagining Constance having tea there, with our girls when they are old enough.” Marcus smiles at the thought.

“It’s a beautiful thought.” The dreaminess on his face is obvious, making your heart swell at the promise of growing the family you’re building with this man. Your other half. Your better half. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He promises softly, his own dreams for the future in his eyes. “I have your present, to show you how much.”

“I thought my roses were my present?” In fact, you and Marcus must have given the hotel staff a good chuckle this weekend, because you both ordered a dozen long stem red roses to the hotel room — addressed to each other — that arrived with your breakfast tray with room service this morning.

He gives you a look, one that tells you that you are being ridiculous and moves to his bag to pull out the lovely wrapped gift he had brought for you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you laugh, sliding his gift out from under your pillow to hand over to him.

He huffs at you, even as a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You should know that roses were going to be your only Valentine’s Day gift.” He hadn’t been expecting anything, and his eyes soften at the sight of a gift for him.

“They weren’t going to be your only gift either,” you tut. But sitting up together in your hotel bed, naked with glasses of wine and hearts utterly full, seems like the perfect time to exchange gifts. “This looks suspiciously like a jewelry box, Agent Pike.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” Marcus pleads his innocence, even as he smirks.

“Mmhmm.” Giggling to yourself all over again, you nudge Marcus’s package toward him so you can both open them at the same time.

“I need you to open yours first.” He wants to watch your expression and put it on you if you want.

“Very mysterious.” You eye him but obey, pulling open the ribbon on the little wrapped box and tear away the dark red paper to reveal a silver jewelry box — exactly as you suspected. When you remove the lid, a small gasp of surprise and wide eyes come with an open mouth reaction. “Is this…?” The delicate silver necklace inside has a heart pendant hanging from it in the center, but the back clasp is on display in the box: a lock, not a claw.

“A collar.” Marcus nods, watching you seriously as he picks up the small, ornate key and showing it to you. “We’ve talked about it, teasing about it, but I found this and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

"Honey, it's beautiful." To the outside observer, the inconspicuous little heart is a sweet token of love from your soulmate. For you and Marcus, it's a next step into the world that you've been exploring together. "I wouldn't have been able to stop thinking about it, either."

“You know you have me, every single part of me, and I have you.” He reaches out and caresses your neck. “This would be between us. Our little secret from the world. My claim on you.”

The little lock on the necklace is meant to be done for you, and you raise your eyes back to Marcus. "Will you do the honors?"

“Do you want to wear my collar, sweetheart?” He asks seriously. “Keeping me close to your heart every day?”

"I really do," you lean across the small expanse to kiss him, just as soft and steadily as the rhythm of your heartbeat. "Even though you're already in my heart every single day. This is just another way to show the whole world."

Marcus hums as you hold out the necklace to him and he carefully unlocks it. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t take it off.” He tells you as he wraps it around your neck and closes the lock to secure it around your neck.

"I know I can always ask you." There are some occasions when it won't be appropriate -- State dinners, your wedding, the fanciest things that you'll do in your lives -- but each and every day of your life the necklace will either go on or off and that means that Marcus will always be with you even when he's away.

Once the necklace is locked around your neck, Marcus leans in and presses his lips to it and your skin gently.

"I feel a bit like I underdid it now," you admit, touching the necklace gently with your fingertips. "But I still hope you like it."

He snorts, not even able to imagine you not putting incredible thought and time into his gift. He picks up the box and shakes it like a kid at Christmas, grinning at you. “Nahhhh, sounds fun.”

"Oh yeah." You snort and wave one hand casually. "I figured Lincoln Logs were the most romantic gift possible."

He laughs and shakes his head as he starts to unwrap the beautiful paper. “Whatever it is, I appreciate you getting me something.” He murmurs. “A lot of women seem to think valentines is only for them.”

"You are the most romantic man on the planet." While he works open the paper you lean back in the pillows and toy with your new necklace. "I couldn't possibly leave you out of the celebration this weekend. That would be awful."

“You would be surprised how often it happens.” He knows you wouldn’t and it makes him appreciate you even more. “Babe….” he freezes when he opens the box and sees the lighter that is nestled into the protective fabric. “Is this— it’s a 1939-45 World War II Trench lighter.” He murmurs, admiring how the patina on the metal is meticulously cared for. “How did you know to get this?”

The awe on his face is enough to tell you that you made the right decision, and you leave a kiss on his cheek with pleasure. "I may have dug in your eBay search history a little," you admit without shame. "Your lighter collection is a point of pride and I know you want to keep growing it."

“I- I love it.” He promises you, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “So many of these have been lost or discarded but they all have so many stories ingrained in every flick of the flint.”

"The shop I got it from had a little history of previous owners." The handwritten card is tucked inside the lid of the cigar box, and you nudge Marcus to keep going. "You have to keep unwrapping, though."

“There’s more?” He huffs, rolling his eyes playfully and carefully setting the lighter aside to pull out a box of cigars. “Very nice.”

His smile makes you glow, so happy to see him accepting these shows of love and tokens of affection. "Now that you have a porch to sit out on at night, I thought you should be able to enjoy an indulgence you couldn't have while living in an apartment or the inn."

“That is as long as you don’t hate the smell.” He eyes you, even as he opens the box and pulls out a cigar to smell, groaning at the aroma.

"I called your dad to make sure I got the ones you and he smoke when we're in Texas," you admit. "So I already know I like the smell of these."

“Good.” He chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He asks. “The universe couldn’t have chosen better.”

"I was just thinking the same about you." Nudging his nose with yours brings a smile to both of your faces. The perfectly contented kind of smile that is somehow both enraptured and at peace all at once. "So I'm very glad we agree."

“That’s why we are soulmates.” He reasons, giddy to be celebrating the holiday with his soulmate, his fiancée and the woman he will spend the rest of his life with.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Men In Bikinis

Requested: No

Warmings: Suggestive

A/N: I like putting big buff men in pretty dresses and also sexy bikinis, I refuse to be stopped

You were at it again. Your lover could tell just by looking at you. It was just supposed to be a trip to the clothing store for some new swim clothes. But you had to go and look at the bikinis, a grin on your face as you glance between your partner and the revealing swimwear.

Ghost

Ghost is not very happy but he does as you silently ask anyways, letting you grab something from the rack before practically shoving him into the changing room. He’s a little amused by your choice, the black swimsuit sticking to his skin nicely, the gaps between the laces showing off his pale skin. His favorite part is probably the strings on the top though. It reminds him of some of the lingerie that he likes to see you in. He’s actually surprised at how much he likes the sight of it on his pale scarred skin. He won’t wear it anywhere public because he feels that he almost always has to keep up an intimidating appearance. But in private, he wouldn’t mind, if your brain can handle him in the sight of it, bending over to pick something off the ground. (There was actually not anything on the ground)

Soap

Soap is eager to try on a bikini even without you, snatching one off the rack and heading to the changing room, barely even checking to make sure it’s the right size before he does. What he comes out in is a blue bikini top and one of those side skirt things, absolutely rocking that shit. He’ll rope you into trying on one too though, and once that happens he’s immediately purchasing whatever you pick out just so he can go home and fuck you in it. Might not even make it home actually, but his car has tinted windows so he swears it’s fine. He just handle the sight of your body so exposed, he needs to be on you, in you.

König

König is, just like when you made him try on the wedding dress, absolutely confused. His eyes wide and puppy like when you lay the bikini in his hands. He’s a little less confused when you shove him into the changing room. He’s very hesitant at first, this being a lot more revealing than the wedding dress, but he does put it on after a moment. He refuses to come out though, instead dragging you in with him, letting you see how the pink and white fabric accentuated his curves, the ruffles of the top making him actually feel a little cute. He actually would like to buy it, though he’d never wear it in public. Maybe you both could invest in a nice private pool instead.

Alejandro

Alejandro initially grabs this super revealing micro bikini but he literally could not come out of the changing room because his whole balls were hanging out of it and he did not want to be fined with public indecency. He thinks it makes his ass look great though so he gets it anyway but what he does come out in is a nice simple red bikini. He’s more to then a little teasing as he leans in, asking if you like it on him as he straddles your lap. Eventually you are both asked to leave because Alejandro can’t stop kissing you, heavy and wet, and people are beginning to stare.

[carolmunson]

too cool to admit it (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

you and eddie go to a party, you're having a little too much fun and his ego gets bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, d/s established relaitonship, choking, slapping, degradation, pretty extreme name calling (whore, bitch, slut, pig, etc), dubcon choking (purposefully doing something in a dangerous way), jealous!eddie, mean!eddie, mentions of drugs and alcohol, pretty much an intense scene overall, rough p in v sex, use of restraints. references to dom drop and sub drop. there is aftercare in the form of discussion on why things like this can't happen and how to prevent them. December 1991 - Hawkins.

Ed wasn't having a good night to start, fiddling with his hair in the mirror.

"I looks nice pulled back," you encourage, while he holds it behind him in a low bun, "Get to see your face more."

"It's just so frizzy today," he huffs, "I hate the first wash night. It looks like shit."

"It doesn't look like shit, Ed," you meet him at the mirror, looking at him in it. You pull a full tendrils out toward his face, smoothing out his bangs with your hands, "There we go."

"It's better," he shrugs.

"I think you look very handsome," you smile up at him. His eyes flit down at you and he turns away to hide his boyish smile.

"You have to say that," he murmurs under a blush.

"I don't have to say that," you say, turning to face the real him, "I mean it, though. You look handsome."

"Thank you," he says, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in an hour while he got ready, "You look really pretty."

"I know," you agree, turning back to the mirror to smooth out your dress. He clears his throat from behind you, you can't help but smirk.

"Forgetting something?" he asks. Ed's voice dips to something menacing and your heart dances in your chest.

"Thank you, sir," you chirp.

"That's much better," he praises, stepping behind you to move your hair to lay down your back, "Such a pretty girl."

"You ready to go?" he asks, walking back to the bed to grab his jacket and yours. You nod, hurrying to throw your coat on and slide your little crossbody over yourself. Eddie chuckles to himself while you scurry around, sometimes you were so sweet that it made him sick.

Steve's was already booming by the time you got there. Throngs of people moving through the first floor, hanging outside by the pool despite the cold weather. Ed held you close to him while he pushed you both through to the kitchen, the scent of tobacco and laundry soap heavy on his clothes. It made you swoon for him, your dirty clean boy.

"Here," he said while cracking a beer for you off of his belt, "For the lady."

"Thank you," you smile, he blushes again. Sometimes he was so easy to fluster. You were sure that it was one of those nights where if you winked at him he'd have to leave the room. As domineering as he could be, he really had his days where he couldn't help but trip over himself when he looked at you. Suddenly a school boy with a crush who liked him back, staring at each other across the monkey bars.

The familiar sandalwood musk of Steve Harrington wafted between you. The picture of your blushing boyfriend obscured by a tight navy blue sweater and a rippling back.

"Hey, man," you hear. Eddie's leather arm and ringed hand clapping against his back in front of you, "Sorry to get here so late."

"Hey, pretty," Steve greeted, turning around and pulling you into a hug. He pressed a gentle peck to your cheek, Listerine breath lingering.

"You not drinking tonight?" Ed asked, opening a beer for himself. Steve lets go of his hold, leaning against the kitchen table between the two of you.

"No, not tonight," he said shaking his head, "Might have to drive some people home so I don't wanna put anyone in a bad position."

"Where's your girl?" Ed looked around, eyes scanning for Steve's flavor of the month Elaine.

"She's a little tied up in the bedroom right now," Steve said with a shrug and a sly smirk, "I'm sure she'll be down later."

"Let me know if you two need anything," he offered, walking towards the living room, "Rob and Nance are around here somewhere!"

The party was a blur, rock music and top 40 blasting through the speakers. Everyone around passing blunts, joints, and beers to each other. God forbid anyone had the flu, now you're all going to get it. Eddie was still nursing his first beer of the night, sipping slowly while holding you on his lap on the couch. The both of you intently watching a game of poker unfold in front of you.

"You guys want a shot? Me and Nance are gonna go take shots," Robin asked, walking by the two of you. Eddie shook his head no and you hesitated at first before getting up off his lap.

"Sure, fuck it," you shrugged.

"Don't overdo it, okay?" Ed asked gently, patting the back of your thigh while you walked around him to get to the kitchen. You remember the last time you took shots at a party, taking more and more since they weren't hitting you. Until they hit you all at once. You had a 24 hour hang over after that night.

"I'll be fine, honey," you smiled and shot him a wink, "Thank you, though." He ran a hand over his face to massage out his toothy smile at your attention, hell would freeze over if anyone percieved him as boyish.

The shots fell into you like water, just two, but they had you feeling nice. Not drunk, just nice. Nice enough to let your hands linger on new friends a little too long. Nice enough to catch eyes with someone from across the room and smile. Nice enough to hop into a game of Truth or Dare even though you were all long out of high school. This is something Ed didn't like when you just hung out with the girls. They encouraged this kind of behavior -- hyping you up and passing you drinks or joints so you could all have a good time and unwind. You hadn't checked in with him since you went into the kitchen for a drink. You might as well have forgotten he was there. It wouldn't be the first time.

"She takes two shots of tequila and suddenly everyone is her fucking boyfriend," Eddie huffed against the wall, "I hate when she does this."

"Munson she's just havin' a little fun," Steve rubbed his shoulder, "Don't let it ruin your night. You know she's your girl at the end of the day."

"If she's my girl why is she making eyes at some 'peaked in highschool' scum bag she's never met before," Ed asks, gesturing over to you in the dark, "She's fucking embarrassing me." "Don't be like that," Steve warned, "You're angry. You're seein' what you wanna see, dude. She's just, I dunno, being friendly."

"I'm about to take her home," he said, puffing his chest, "I'm not doing this shit tonight."

"Ed," Steve started, coming around to stand in front of him, "You gotta relax."

"Just -- look at her!" Ed muttered angrily.

It wasn't a pretty picture. Your soft giggle when you said 'Truth,' because you would never say 'Dare,' with your boyfriend around. 'Do you have any hidden talents?' You do, you've perfected the cheek kiss. Eddie swallows hard when you say it because he knows what you mean. The way your breath will ghost over his jaw, the tip of your nose barely brushing against his skin while you trail up to his cheek. You've perfected the art of anticipation. The way your lower lip skates a little on the plane under his cheek bone before you press both of them, warm and plush, against his skin. The kiss lingers long after your lips leave the skin. The first time you did it to him you barely knew each other and he knew he had to take you home. If the way you kissed someone on the cheek was a preview for anything else you could do, he knew he was in for a good night.

"Can we get a demonstration?" the guy asks, his buddies chuckling and jeering with him. You blush while you consider it.

"Oh, yeah, that's a little more than friendly," Steve says. Eddie momentarily sees red, moving Steve out of the way while he steps out of the dark and through the group of people in the living room.

"Baby, let's go," Eddie says while you're learned forward on your hands toward the other boy.

"C'mon dude, don't be a drag," he says.

"I'll drag you down the fuckin' street from the fender of my van, asshole," Eddie bites. You wince, that was his angry voice. Measured and low.

"Let's go," he says to you again, jingling his keys in his pocket.

A collection of 'Oooooh!'s floated from the crowd while you got up to get your coat and purse with Eddie. Like you jut got called into the principal's office. His hand met the small of your back while he guided you to the door, helping you put your coat on before bringing you outside to the van.

"You okay, honey?" you ask, shutting the door while you sat on the worn in passengers seat.

"M'fine, just wanna go home and play," he says without looking at you, "You wanna play?"

"Y-yeah," you reply, a little confused but the warmth between your legs at his slightly angry demeanor wiped that confusion away.

He's not chatty on the ride home, letting you ramble about any gossip you found out from the group there. Gossip about people you don't know, that he doesn't know, that he doesn't care about. You tell him about a few of the guys and their cars. Where they went to college. His grip on the wheel tightens. Maybe you like college guys. Maybe you'd prefer to be with someone who went to college. Who has a better job than at the auto-shop. Someone who wears a suit to work and doesn't come home covered in grease.

Maybe if his hair looked better tonight you wouldn't have felt like flirting with other guys.

When you pull in, infront of the trailer he takes his pack of Camels out to light one, "Go inside and put your leather cuffs and straps on. I'll come meet you when I'm ready."

"Oh," you say, shoulders deflating. He always helped put your harness on when that's how he wanted to play. Making a big, slow, sensual show of adjusting the buckles around your waist, thighs, wrists, and ankles. Making sure the clips on the cuffs were all in working order so he could mold your body to the exact position he wanted it in.

"My collar, too?" you ask, "Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Don't put it on," he says while letting the smoke out of his mouth, clouding the van, "You didn't earn it."

Your lip wobbles but before you can protest he speaks.

"Don't make me wait," he warns. His voice drops into that low and dark register that makes your pulse jump. Eager to please, you run into the trailer, dropping your coat and bag on the kitchen table before hurrying to the bedroom to get ready for him.

You don't wait too long. Eddie barrels through the door and gives you a rough kiss, clipping your wrists to the loop on your waist behind you. He barely gives you a moment to steady yourself before he shoves you onto your knees.

"Open," he says without emotion, working on his trousers fast -- wallet chain tinkling as he does. You part your lips and look up at him, heart racing at the loss of playfulness in his tone. Even at his meanest, there was a glint of Eddie still in his eyes -- a proof that he was still there with you.

"Fucking wider," he hisses. His hand claps so hard against your face that your ears start to ring. It felt more like a punch than a slap, using the heel of his hand to pummel against your cheek. Metallic warmth started to trickle into your mouth while the sting of the hit bloomed on your skin.

"What fuckin' good is that? Wider," he says, his hands gripping your hair at the scalp. Your lower lip wobbles before you part your lips again, stretching your jaw open to accomodate him. The broken skin on the inside of your cheek stretches with you.

"You want me to do it again?" he asks gruffly, raising his free hand while shaking your head at the scalp with the other.

You shake your hand no against his restraint, tears starting to pour out of you, your chest shuddering.

"Aw, c'mon. Aren't you my little pain slut? Don't you like it, baby?" he asks with faux concern.

"Please not again," you cry. His cock strained harder in his boxer briefs at your tears, letting go of your scalp to unleash it from it's fabric prison.

"Take it," he glowered, "All the way. Or I'm gonna make you wish you never fuckin' met me."

"Yes s-sir," you sniffle. You'd been throat trained enough to be able to snake him in to the base without gagging, but he wasn't letting you take him in at your own pace.

"All. The fucking. Way," he growled, shoving himself roughly into your wet mouth the moment his pulsing head met your tongue. You sputtered over him, spit pooling in your mouth and gushing over him, sliding down the side of your chin.

"What's all this gaggin' for, huh? I know you can suck it better than that," he taunts, gripping your hair again. He's unrelenting in his thrusts into your mouth and you desperately try to accomdate his movements. There's no way you can service him the way you normally do with his hand keeping your head in place.

"C'mon whore," he glares down at you, "Show me what a slutty fuckin' bitch you are. Hope I didn't fuckin' take you home for nothing."

Sweat starts to trickle down your back while he hits your uvula and you swallow whatever bile you might've had coming up before it can reach the tip of his dick. The lewd, wet smacks of his cock assaulting your mouth fill his room -- riccocheting off the walls and back to you, reminding you of your place. You knees start to burn against the scratchy carpet.

Eddie looks down at you, black tears streaking your face -- how he always like you best, crying on your knees. Desperate for a smile or an encouraging word that you wouldn't get tonight. Lipstick, spit, and strands of blood staining his cock as he rocked into your mouth.

He leans forward to rest one hand on the wall behind you to steady himself. The other holding you hard in place so he can fuck your mouth with vigor. You can help but start gagging at each thrust, but the contraction of your throat feels so good for him. The sound of you crying and the clinks of your restraints while you try to stop him make his cock twitch.

Your mouth closes slightly as you try to remove yourself from his grasp and his pleasure soon drops to rage. His hand comes off the wall to meet the other in your hair and he leans your head back hard. Your scalp screams with pain, your eyebrows raising with the pull.

"Use that mouth the way I taught you, before I fuckin' piss in it. You understand me?" he asks. A fresh peal of cries pours out of you and you force yourself to nod, but the action isn't enough.

"I said: do you understand me?" he asks again, more incredulous. His open palm cracks against your face again, just as hard as the first one.

"I understand, sir," you whisper, your eyes casting down at your knees, afraid to provoke him further.

"No, no, I don't think you do," he smiles, but it's angry, "I don't think you understand."

He lifts you up to standing by your hair. You whine while he pulls you to the full length mirror on his closet door.

"You'd like it if I pissed in your mouth, wouldn't you?" he asked.

"Yes, master," you agreed in the mirror, face contorting with tears as you say it. Your brain is so foggy you're not even sure what you're agreeing to.

"You dirty fucking pig," he scoffed, "You'd be lucky if I even bothered to piss on a worthless bitch like you."

He makes you watch while he adjusts your restraints, unclipping your arms from your back to the loop at the center of your waist. He rips off the dainty necklace you'd put on earlier that day and tosses it to the floor. You swallowed hard.

"You see that E on your chest?" he asked, pulling you by the leather strap around you waist to the bed. He means the tiny scar of an 'E' that he carved just under your collarbone. Something dangerous you had both agreed to.

"Yes, sir," you respond between hiccups of tears.

"You know what it means?" he grunts while he tosses you onto your back on the mattress, clipping your ankles to the backs your thighs to keep you spread open for him.

"C'mon angel, you know what it means?" he urges. He just wants to hear you say it while he mounts you.

"It um --" you start, whimpering while he climbs between your legs. He closes his hand around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks painfully. His wolfish smile was making you nervous, "Means you own me."

"Means I own you, that's right," he repeats, nodding while he says it so that you nod too. He pushes into you without warning and you hiss at the intrusion. You're used to some kind of warm up, even some spit would've helped. It's not that you weren't wet, but not as wet as you should be to take his whole length and girth in one go.

"Ow..." you whine softly, a new wave of fear washes over you.

"Don't make me get that gag, you dumb cunt," he bites down at you. You shudder at the word, he doesn't use it often, “Just want you to lay there and be my fucktoy. It’s all you’re fucking good for, anyway.”

"Sorry, sir," you whimper. He starts with slow and steady thrusts, getting you to accomodate to him -- but it's almost soulless. He's looking at your chest, on the soft lightened fleshy E that had scared there. The bounce of your tits.

As his speed picks up, his gaze meets yours.

"You belong to me, right?" he asks. He looks dead behind the eyes -- you nod 'yes' anyway.

"Say it, tell me," he coerces, hands finding your waist while his pace quickens -- you start fluttering around him, elliciting a low grumbling groan from his mouth.

“I b-belong to you,” you reply, your head reeling at the sight of him over you. His eyes as wild as his hair while his thrusts become hard and punishing. Slow to pull all the way out and rough when he comes all the way in, hitting your cervix uncomfortably. You cry out involuntarily at the force.

“You’re so pathetic,” he tells you through gritted teeth, “You cry like this when other guys fuck you?”

You’re confused at the question, you aren’t fucking other guys. You’ve been in a relationship for a couple years now.

“Wh-what?” you ask, your voice sounding less lilted, less hazy.

“You giving them those little sad eyes when they’re too rough with you?” the devilish smile on his face when he asks, coupled with his darkened eyes sends a chill through your chest.

“N-no, I’m not —“ you sputter when his hand collides with your face again with a stinging smack, “Ow, ow, no, I’m not fucking other g-guys. Wh-what’re you t-talking about?”

“It’s just me fuckin’ you stupid then, huh?” he’s telling you, you realize. Not asking. Eddie leans forward, pressing his body flush against you while his forehead finds home in the crook of your neck. Grunting into the mattress while feels you get slicker between your legs, “Not that I gotta try very hard. You’re so easy. You’d spread those legs for anyone, wouldn’t you? Should start pimping you out when I sell. You easy bitch.”

“You saw how quick you got on those knees for me,” he teases, “Probably be worth what? A buck? Buck fifty? Can't be too high with how used up and worn out you look."

You swallow — his words are starting to hurt differently. No longer running straight to your core, but to your chest. You try to shake it off and not take it personally, but the way he’s looking at you feels new. Your barely want to meet his face.

“Think you'd be worth anything if I didn't own you? Gonna show you how much you need me,” he snarls in your ear. Eddie pushes back up over you, adjusting your legs to spread wider before bringing one hand down onto your throat. You’re not a stranger to this, feeling the pressure of him blocking your blood flow while your tongue peak outs of your mouth. Eddie admires the bloom of heat rising in your face to match the handprints he already left there. His pretty, desperate, marked up doll.

His brows knit together and he can’t supress a pornographic moan at the sight of you under him. Your face painted in tear streaks and fear, lipstick smudged, your restraints digging into your skin. His moan fades into a laugh that goes right to your bones, breath hitching a bit while he adjusts himself to lean a little farther over you.

His other hand comes forward and without warning, clamps over your mouth and nose. Your eyes widen with fear when he looks down at you with determination. You start to panic, your chest heaving nothing, bile rising in your throat. Your hands go to reach up to pull at his wrist but you're still clipped to your waist. You pull at the restraints desperately, tears spilling down to your hair line. You can feel him still thrusting into you while you start thrashing beneath him to get him to stop.

Black fuzz starts to spot over your vision, hazing him in a natural vignette. Your thrashing starts to slow, but you still pull at your binds. Your vision darkens a little more.

He lets go.

Like technicolor, the room rushes back to you, the lightness of his skin, his hair with a halo of light around it. You cough and sputter while taking two full big breaths, the breaths turned to choke sobs — you want to tell him he’s scaring you. You want to tell him to stop, to not do that again. That’s not how you’ve practiced it before. But all you can do is suck in air while he continues fucking into you.

“See, look at that. Can't breathe if I don't let you,” he hisses down at you. You barely have a moment to register what he says before his hands find you again. His ringed fingers back to pressing on your neck, side of his hand pressing slightly on your larynx — maybe he’s just a little hazy from the party, he’d never just not do something correctly. Especially not play that had consequences.

He readjusts and you almost feel safe again until the pressure is more intense. He makes eye contact with you as he does it. You pull desperately at your restraints again when his other hand comes back up to block your nose and mouth.

Your lungs scream again, your heart beat booms in your ears. You swallow instinctively to open your airways but it just makes you gag into yourself from the pressure of his hand. It doesn’t take nearly as long for your vision to blur and darken and you want to fight him, but you barely have any fight left.

“You're fuckin' nothing without me,” he mumbles completely fucked out while you sputter beneath him. His hips stutter, “Mm - shit --yeah, fucking choke.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans, head falling forward, “Such a good pussy — jesus fuckin' -- fuck -- god.”

He lets go quicker this time and within the first breath you do all your brain has the oxygen to instruct.

“Blue,” you rasp out before taking a heaving and rattling breath, “Blue, blue.”

It doesn’t register for Eddie at first while he continues to pump into you, too preoccupied with his shattering orgasm to hear your cries.

“Blue,” you say again, desperate and pleading.

He hears it.

He stops.

“Baby?” he asks, like he’s looking for you. His hands immediately unclip yours from your waist, taking your leather cuffs off.

“Hey, you with me?” he asks, his demeanor changes on a dime — his anger dissipating, morphing into apologetic caring.

“With you,” you respond, but barely. He listens to your ragged breaths, your gags, heaves.

“Can you breathe, baby? Do you need me to call the hospital?” panic rises in his chest while he looks you over, keeping his eyes on your face while he unclips your ankles from your thighs.

“No hospital,” you respond, your breath still coming in as gasps, coughing as the air runs over your irritated throat. You swat at his hands while he works on removing the cuff on your ankle.

“Don’t,” you whimper out through wheezes, “Don’t touch me.”

“No, no,” he pleads, “Baby I’m sorry. Please let me help.” He slides off the other cuff and reaches over to undo the buckle on your waist but you push yourself away off the mattress.

“I said don’t touch me,” you hiss, standing up slowly while oxygen finally starts getting to your brain. You lean over and cough again while Eddie sits at attention on the bed, hands shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, you can hear the shake in his chest, “I didn’t mean…wait, wait!”

You don’t wait, you pick your dress back up off the floor and put it on over your harness, sliding your underwear on over your bruised groin. You wince as the elastic brushes your lips but continue on into the hallway — Eddie following after, sniffling.

“Where are you going?” he asks desperately while you put your mary-janes back on, “Let me check you out, huh? I gotta make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay, Ed,” you murmur, going into the kitchen and grabbing your purse. You reach for the phone on the wall and dial feverishly. Breath still coming in staggered and shuddering.

“Hey, stop,” he says, coming over and pressing the receiver before the phone even rings back at you, “Let me take care of you. Please. This isn't how we do this, you have to talk to me.”

“Go. Away.” you glower, shoving his hand away. You dial again while he falls apart in front of you, tears welling up and spilling out of his doe eyes in streams.

“Harrington Residence,” Steve’s voice rings on the other end, the sound of the party still roaring in the background.

“Hey, can you come get me?” you ask, the grogginess from crying and choking still heavy on your voice.

“Are you okay?” he asks, you hear the sound of the party fade and a door click behind him, “Are you at Ed’s?”

“Yes, just, please come get me,” you beg. You watch as Eddie wipes his eyes while he walks into the living room sinking down on the couch, “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

Steve doesn’t have to ask what happened because he’s sure he already knows. Maybe he should’ve intervened before you both left — told Eddie to just stay and talk to you first instead of taking you home. Maybe he could’ve mediated.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads softly from the couch, “Don’t leave me here. S’not fair.”

“You could have fucking killed me,” you hiss from the hallway, hanging up the phone, “You wanna talk about unfair.”

“Then please let me apologize,” he cries, “Let me do what I’m supposed to do.”

It hits you like a tidal wave — the drop. The tears start so quickly that your recently refilled lungs can't keep up. You're choking on your own sobs, unable to keep yourself standing. You trip into one of the metal chairs at the kitchen table, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of going to the living room to ask for his help.

He makes the decision for you, getting up from the couch and sliding into the chair next to you, hand out stretched for you to hold it.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he reassures when you just look at it instead of reaching for it. His rings glimmering in the dingy yellow light from above the stove. Rings that were just around your throat. Rings that bit into you skin.

"You did hurt me," you whimper. He peers at you, using his empty hand to tilt up your chin. Even in the low light, it was clear that irritation had started to bloom there. You'd both probably see the real damage tomorrow. He held his head in his hands, staring a hole into the linoleum of the table.

"That's not who I am," he says to himself. He'd relaxed, no longer crying -- the realization finally setting in, instead of the fear of you walking out before he can help you, "Fuck, I...I didn't meant to."

He was afraid to touch you, knowing you might flinch. Knowing you don't want him to be around. You both sat there in the kitchen in the low of the light from the stove and the side lamp of the livingroom. The buzz of the mosquito trap outside filling the silence in the trailer outside of your sniffling and shuddering breaths while you try to calm down.

Eventually, the crunch of gravel sounds outside and the shut of a car door. Three sharp knocks slam against the storm door and you both jump.

"Steve," you mumble. You go to get up but Eddie stops you, taking the few steps it takes to get to the door. It opens to Steve with his hands on his hips.

"So what happened that I needed to leave my house to come get you both together?" he says like a disappointed father.

"I fucked up," Eddie confessed.

"Well yeah, obviously," Steve's sarcastic tone isn't appreciated by Ed, but you laugh at the table where Steve is now sat.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He choked me," you rasp, pulling at a tear in the linoleum on the table.

"You like that, though," he said.

"No, he...he actually choked me," you say, looking up at him, "And he didn't check in and he didn't -- he didn't even look at me. He just used me."

"Did you not talk to her on the ride home?" Steve asked. Eddie makes a face and walks back into the kitchenette, leaning against the sink.

"I didn't know what to say," he says to his feet, "I was mad."

"Why don't you say it now," Steve suggests, "Why don't you tell her why you wanted to leave."

Eddie's jaw ticks and he frowns, "I was jealous..."

"Jealous?" you ask, turning to face him on the chair, "Over what?"

"Just," he runs a hand over his face, rubbing his eye, "Whenever you're a little tipsy you just...you flirt with everyone around you. It makes me feel like you don't want to be with me."

"Ed, of course I want to be with you," you respond, on defense, "You can't just come home and ignore all our rules cause you're mad."

"I know, I know," he nods, "I got too caught up, that's my fault. You were gonna kiss that guy and I saw...I saw red, baby, and I had to get you out of there."

"Do you think this would've happened if you had talked to her in the car on the way home?" Steve asked. Eddie shook his head no.

"Why not?" Steve presses, "Why do you think this wouldn't have happened?"

"Because I would've been able to get my feelings out before starting a scene. I'm not supposed to start a scene if I'm actually angry," he says, a frown pulling at his face.

"Did you check in with her at all?" Steve asked.

"N-no," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I didn't."

"I'm sorry," he rasps out again, "I won't do it again. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll work on it, I promise. You know I'm not like that."

"I know you're not," you agree, "That's why this was so scary. It didn't feel good."

Eddie loses it again when you say 'scary'. That he scared you. That he made you scared of him instead of being engaged with him and a part of it. Instead, he was just a big monster taking what he wanted from you. As if all the things people said about him in Hawkins was true.

"This is the first time you called Blue from him doing something intentional, right?" Steve runs his hands through his hair, "He's never done something like this before?"

"Never," you shake your head, "That's why I'm so upset."

"You gonna make a habit of this, Munson?" he warns.

"No," his hair shakes with him, "I'm never gonna do it again."

"Why don't you both go and talk about this while I wait here, and when you're done I'll take her back with me," Steve crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. A parent.

"You're gonna take her?" Ed frowned.

"Yeah," Steve nodded, "Did you forget you choked her out? She's just gonna stay at mine for the night while you both cool off."

Ed nodds with a tight smile, "I understand."

You both go to the bedroom. You hardly chat. You both just cry while he pours out apologies and holds you to his chest. Whispering reminders to each other that you're both still so in love but that you need to be better communicators sometimes. That the dynamic doesn't work if you're not honest.

He'd just talked about this with you a few weeks ago when you cold shouldered him for most of the day. If something hurts for real it means something is wrong, be it emotionally or physically.

"I love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "And I'll work on not being jealous. I know you're just having fun. Steve kept trying to tell me."

"I know you hate when I say it, but you should listen to Steve more often," you giggle weakly, "He's smart under all that hair."

Eddie scrunches his nose, "You think so? I dunno."

"You're so mean," you tease, but your shoulders fall when you say it. He notices. "Let's take a little break from the mean stuff, okay?" he asks, "Maybe we need to work on how we talk about our shit with eachother before we go back in. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, I think that's smart," you say into his chest. "Wanna be good to you," he says, kissing the top of your head.

"You are good to me," you say, leaning your head back to look at him. "Always room for improvement," he smiles, stretching his tear stained cheeks, "That's what it used to say on all my report cards."

"Why don't you go back out there and go with Steve, okay? I'm gonna get ready for bed," he nods, letting another kiss flutter onto your forehead. "Okay," you nod, but you don't want to go. You know you should but you don't want to. He sees your hesitance and pulls you in close to him again. "I'll see you in the morning, okay? I'll come get you. I'll take you out for breakfast," he promises, hands smoothing up and down your back.

"Okay," you cry a little. You gather some of your clothes that you keep at his place, shoving them into a spare backpack in his closet before you mosey out back to the kitchen. "Ready?" Steve asks. You nod, Ed watching from the end of the hall.

"Hey Harrington," he calls out, and Steve turns to look at him while he guides you out of the trailer.

"Your girl still tied up in your bedroom?"

"Oh FUCK, fuck me, we gotta go," his eyes blow wide while he races with you out of the trailer. Eddie chuckling to himself while he hears the squeal of Steve's BMW pull out of the park.