#storiesofsvu bingo

[v3nusxsky]

Yes Larissa Weems

Unwrap me 18+

*Authors note~ back with the smut and as you can see this anon got in first with Larissa Weems! Let me know if you liked the game :) Also, Marilyn is non existent in this :( sorry yall*

Trigger warnings~ sub rope bunny R dom Larissa mommy kink, praise n degrading kink, face sitting? In general teasing r bondage? Sex toys squirting

Prompt~ secret Santa/gift exchange for @storiesofsvu holiday bingo

The holiday season crept forward like the predator staking it’s prey, seemingly surrounding Nevermore quickly this year. The arrival of Wednesday Addams and you being the newly qualified bounty teacher instead of her assistant provided enough of a distraction for Larissa. Something she knew had to be due to Mortica being, well Mortica. As her estranged sister, Larissa hadn’t know who you were until she saw all the paperwork. With your niece's arrival brought Mortica, old wounds appearing for you and the principal. Being close to Larissa meant you could see the brief flash of hurt in her beautiful cyan irises before she masked it with her business facade. Equally, she caught your emotions at seeing your niece and nephew again as well as your sister. But she never mentioned it, leaving you to believe it was unnoticed.

With some expected teething problems Larissa was slowly losing her concept of time, not having you being her assistant left her trying to manage Nevermore and all the paper work that came with it. Before she knew it, coach Vald was approaching her about running a secret Santa. Every year he sought her approval to hold this event with all the staff the evening that the students left for their break. A way to unwind really. One of which she was happy to grant, seeing her staff happy made sure the students received the best possible education. This year you would be included as you were now officially on the staff which left the blonde more eager to take part this year.

Drawing her name was single-handedly the best and most terrifying moment of your life. You immediately paled at the realization that you needed to make this the best gift she would have ever gotten. Since that night a few months ago your crush on the principal was becoming more and more predominant in your working relationship. When you agreed to teach bounty you thought the memories of that night would lessen and fade into the background, after all it’s unprofessional but like seed blooming into flowers it grew.

Recently you’ve spent many nights in your bedroom partaking in Shabari art, rope art if you will, it appears you have a natural affinity for it and was something you greatly enjoyed, something only you knew you did. Over the months of doing this art form you’ve acquired a variety of colored rope and lengths of rope, but naturally you have a favorite. Larissa always told you that the wine-red dress you wear to work was simply stunning, so It was only natural the wine-colored rope was your favorite to use. This is where your plan started to form, it was like finally having the jigsaw pieces the right way up which allows you to plan a course of action. Which you did.

Part of your plan was telling your dear friend Vald that you wouldn’t be coming to tonight’s get together but handing him a neatly wrapped present with her name on it. It was all part of the plan little did he know, so he took the gift with a promise of bringing yours to you later that night. After thanking the coach you retreated to your room and set in motion phase 2 of your plan. Get ready for her.

After putting her eloquently wrapped gift in the Santa sack, the blonde woman made her way to grab some wine, a necessity, before searching the crowded room of familiar faces. Yet, not the face she wanted to see here. With a sip of the smooth blood red wine she simply come to the logical conclusion of you running late. Very normal and plausible, no need to panic, yet as the time trickled on she could feel the heaviness of disappointment weighing her down. Truly, the principal wanted to see you, going from seeing you every day to now hardly once a week only highlighted just how much she wanted, no needed, you in her life. Following the realization of just how she wanted you, normally her thoughts going as far to you being beneath her as she practically ascends to heaven with the sounds you make. Because of her.

Chatter and laughter rang out through the party as gifts were torn into and wrapping paper thrown everywhere, yet Larissa was struggling to find the holiday spirit knowing you weren’t here. And as per tradition Larissa was the last person to receive her secret Santa gift, a tradition she installed as she preferred to watch everyone else and bask in the joy and contentment in the room. Unlike her staff, she made sure to unwrap her gift without even tearing the beautiful paper, yet nothing gave her any clues to whom was her secret Santa.

A simplistic rose gold snow globe lay in her palms with a photo Inside the globe. With a gasp at such a thoughtful gift she almost missed then note. Almost. “I’m giggling and laughing and shouting with Glee, you’ve got another gift, but you still haven’t seen me ~ secret Santa xx“ is what the note said. Whoever her Santa was knew how much she enjoys a good riddle, and possibly that she had yet to find one she couldn’t solve. This wouldn’t be the first time for that either. Reading over the clue again and looking at her gift, with a shake and a twist the photo revealed itself, another cryptic clue. “You’ve been here before, in my dreams every night, but in reality you’ve been here twice!”

Bidding the party goodnight, the principal was quick to hurry to where she knew you’d be. The clue being painfully obvious but a reminder of the first time you and her met and that one night you shared In your room. Coach Vald gave her a knowing smile and immediately pulled his phone out to let you know she’d left. See, although you’d told Vald you weren’t going, he didn’t take that easily, managing to get you to spill your genius plan and therefore enlist him to help. By letting you know when Larissa left the party.

Your door remained unlocked, your body intricately wrapped up in wine and emerald colored ropes as you waited for the rest of the plan to set in motion. It was sexy but tasteful and that was everything you wanted this to be, so you couldn’t help the bubbles of excitement in your lower stomach at the sound of her heels clicking along the corridor. Waiting on bated breath you heard the code of knocks from your old job. One, two, three taps before the principal would enter.

If your body wasn’t so restricted you would’ve taken a picture, the blondes jaw was practically touching the floor, her blackened pupils blown wide almost suffocating the beautiful cyan blue color her eyes held normally, her cheeks adoring a pretty pink blush as her eyes raked in your appearance. “Merry Christmas Isa” you mumbled feeling slight exposed under her intense gaze. Maybe you’d done the wrong thing? Perhaps she didn’t want you the way you want her, perhaps that kiss you shared months ago was a moment of madness and that’s all. Perhaps.

Lust. The gate way drug to love for sure, the way you are trapped in her lustful gaze seemingly paralyses you both. “Fuck darlin” she drawled her British accent slipping into her words, “I think I’m in heaven” she murmured before coming close to your roped body. “It’s for you Isa, I want us to be more than boss and employee, more than one shared kiss, more than friends. I want you, and I’d very much like to be unwrapped and tied up in other more intimate and interesting ways…” you tailed off as you could visibly see Larissa battling with her mind and heart.

“Fuck it” she grunted out before slamming her lips to yours, immediately both slipping into a dance as if it had always been this way, meant to be this way even, her hands trailing over your skin and the ropes covering it. “You’re my other present?” She panted out after pulling away from your lips leaving you to whine in protest. “If you want me, your present is this” you informed before taking her hand and pressing it on the skin and rope above your heart.

“Mine” was all she managed to get out before her lips and hands were back all over you in the most deliciously sinful ways. Her painted lips staining your neck as her lips made a home there. Long Nimble fingers skilfully untying the knots to free even more of your soft plush skin to her greedy lustful gaze. And just like that, the hour you spent tying yourself up to perfection was all undone in twenty minutes by your lover. “Isa” you whined a she bit over your pulse point gently, “how did you do that so quick?” A small chuckle followed by her hands roaming everywhere and no where at the same time, “I’m no stranger to this art form darling, now can I please play with my pretty girl?”

Begging. Another thing you wouldn’t expect from the principal that practically radiates dominance with every word she says and steps she takes. But here she was begging to do more than unwrap you, to touch you. No, she wants more and who would you be to deny such a goddess? “You don’t have to beg baby, I’m yours to take, to wrap and unwrap, to make love to, to fuck like your own personal toy and to love.”

Permission given, you weren’t expecting her to be on you straight away, yet she was. The poor woman being absolutely ravenous for you, she wasn’t sure how she’d left your room after that kiss, but this was something she craved deep down since the day you met. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t fantasying over the unsuspecting woman every night. “Please Isa, wanna touch you” you whimpered in protest as she made her way down your body kissing and nipping at the soft skin along the way.

“Oh my sweet girl wants to make me feel good hmm? Shall I sit on that pretty face of yours then darling” was not what you expected to hear but yet found yourself eagerly agreeing and trying to settle the woman on your face before she even had a chance to fully undress. “Y/n! Let go or you’ll get nothing, I need to undress first” the principal squealed trying to add her dominance into her tone but failing. Sheepishly you let her go and watched as she deliberately got undressed slower now. Your silence and patience was rewarded when you were met with her soaked pussy. “Go ahead pretty girl, make me feel good sweetheart.”

And that you did, you were using every skill you knew of to ensure Larissa was getting the most pleasure possible, your tongue expertly exploring her core as your nose bumps up against her clit occasionally while she ground down against your face clearly chasing her impending orgasm. “Oh good girl, yes fuck what a talented slut you are!” caused you to hum in appreciation at the praise and for Larissa to plummet face first into the pool of pleasure, whimpering and mewling all the way for you, you happy drank everything she gave you until you were sure she’d come down from her high and shifted from your face. The sight of her own slick covering your lower face had another bubble of needy heat hitting her like a fright train. You were her own new person drug, and one she’d never quit.

Your own cunt pulsed with need after seeing how well you’d pleased your lover, so much so it distracted you enough for Larissa to expertly tie your arms above you head using the red rope and the green to tie your legs spread open for her. “Mommy” you whimpered in a confused haze causing the blonde to smirk, “that’s what you call me pretty girl? I bet you even whimper it when you make yourself cum at night don’t you?” A timid nod was really all you could do as you tried to avoid her gaze but her hand simply guided you back to look at her. “Oh yes you do because your mommys needy whore aren’t you? Has mommy not been touching you darling? Shall we give that needy pussy of yours all the attention now hmm?” Despite knowing she is goading you you couldn’t help but beg for it. After all she’s not wrong! You do need her more than oxygen itself.

It didn’t take much for you to break and tell the older woman where you kept your toys, and soon enough she’d selected her partner for the night to assist her in your pleasure without knowing she’d chosen your favourite. “Now sweet girl, you’re going to be a good girl and take what mommy gives you?” She teased, fingers playing with the slick coating your cunt and thighs. “Be good please mommy want you to fuck me” you whined squirming as best as you can until her palm met your thigh, “none of that sweet one, you’ll get what you need.”

If only you knew what that last sentence had meant before she started you would’ve tried to change her mind over the choice of toy. You’d lost count how many times she had brought you over the edge, with her mouth, the toy and a delicious combination of them both. Each orgasm growing in intensity as you thrashed against the bindings and whimpered pleads to slow down. Larissa knew your safe word, a drunk conversation months prior had you confirming it was the word light and your reasons behind it, but you hadn’t used that so of course she kept going, teasing her like this for a secret Santa deserved a little punishment. Right?

“Mo-my mommy! Can’t Isa! P-ple-ase gonna pee!” You squealed again feeling something so intense about to crash into your body. A foreign white hot pressure of pleasure threatening to wash over you if she didn’t stop this instant. “It’s okay darling, let it take you, such a good girl for mommy, go on love, soak my hand for me, that’s it good fucking girl” she praised as you gave into the overwhelmingly intense feeling. “Oh fuck fuck mommy!” You mewled desperately bucking against the toy and her mouth in a pleasurable pain as you drew that last few moments of pleasure from your body. “Wha? No more mommy please!” You whimpered causing the blonde to remove herself, the bindings and the toy from your overstimulated body and throbbing hole. “Oh god! I peed!” You gasped before trying to hide yourself In the blankets and pillows. “You didn’t sweetheart, you squirted for me. And it was so incredibly sexy darling. I can’t wait to make you do it again for me” you lay there allowing her soft tone wrap around you as the words sunk in. At some point in the silence her hand began to trail over your back and praises continued to fall from her lips. “Thank you for my most special present my little Santa” she teased with a kiss to your head and rolled you over to kiss over your heart, “I’ll cherish it forever, just like I’ll worship you forever, in this life and the next, merry Christmas darling.” Curling up in her arms listening to her heartbeat and being lulled to sleep couldn’t have made you more grateful for a secret Santa gift exchange.

Word count~ 2,637

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #v3nusxsky holiday treats 2023 #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #larissa weems smut #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #weems smut #dom larissa #larissa smut #principal weems x reader #weems x reader #larissa weems

[drabbles-mc]

Nowhere To Be

Opie Winston x F!Reader

For one of my favorite people, @justreblogginfics with the prompt: The party was great but now it’s time to find their way home, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold in high heels and a party dress.

For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023 prompt: New Years

Warnings: 18+, language, implied/referenced smut, pining

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I have missed Opie so much, so thank you for giving me the inspo and the opportunity to write this fun little somethin' for him! Happy New Year! 🥰💖

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @darqchilddaydreamz @nessamc @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“It is cold in California!” you said, exasperated.

Opie chuckled as he stood beside you. Part of him wanted to make a comment about the fact that you knew that, that you’d grown up in Charming just like him. Sure, you’d been on the East Coast for a few years but it wasn’t nearly long enough to wipe your memory clean of it. Plus, you’d been back in Cali long enough to have not made this mistake—you were just too tempted by the idea of a party and getting dressed up and going out.

He wanted to say all of that, could have, but instead he just said, “Yeah, it is.”

Turning to face him, you huffed out a sigh. “Why is it cold in California? I thought it was supposed to be all beaches and sunshine here.”

“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t—”

“I look good,” you cut him off, knowing exactly where his sentence was going. “That’s not the issue here.”

“I mean,” he shifted so that he was pressed closer to you, his fingertips dragging up the side of your leg that was left exposed by the short dress that you’d worn to the party, “this feels like it might be part of the issue.”

You rolled your eyes, glad that you could say the goosebumps breaking out over your skin were because of the cold and not because of the feelings and thoughts that were coursing through you at just the slightest touch. Despite your initial impulse, you swatted his hand away.

“You didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue about an hour ago when we snuck off to the bathroom and—”

“Alright,” it was his turn to cut you off, chuckling as he did so.

He shrugged off his leather jacket, one of the million layers he always seemed to be wearing whether it was the first day of January or the last day of July. He held it out for you to take and for as much as you liked giving him a hard time, you weren’t quite committed enough to that endeavor to turn down the opportunity for some extra warmth. You snatched it out of his hand and slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling relief not just because you immediately felt warmer, but also because the jacket smelled like him and there was comfort to be had in that too.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning into him, hands pressed against his chest.

He smiled. “Welcome.”

You tilted your head just a little farther back so that you could get a better look at him. He had one arm draped around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back. His other hand was placed on your hip, not holding you too tightly but it also would’ve taken some effort if you really wanted to pry yourself away. Not that you had any interest in that.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked.

He scanned your face for a moment, wishing that he had any idea at all where your next sentence was going to go. He knew what he wanted you to say next, but he also knew better than to hold his breath over it. Plus it was New Year’s Eve, or rather New Year’s Day by hardly an hour. And you were drunk not just off the alcohol you’d both had all night but also from the energy of the party. He knew better than to get his hopes up, and yet.

“Confessing crimes already? Year just started,” he joked.

You laughed and shook your head. “No, no crimes.” You leaned a little more onto him, taking the weight off one of your feet. “Ugh, these heels are killing me. I can’t even think.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why you can’t think.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up.”

“What’d you wanna—”

You cut him off, not meaning to, but you were already moving onto the next thing. “We gotta get back to the hotel. Because if I have to stay in these shoes any longer, I’m gonna,” you laughed, “then I’m gonna commit some crimes to confess to.”

He chuckled. “You remember how to get back?”

You turned and looked at him. You tried to hold in your laughter and failed. “No.”

He wanted to be annoyed but he had sort of seen it coming. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. “This was your idea,” he teased as you pulled out your phone.

You waved him off. “Going out was so much easier before.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You looked up from the GPS on your phone for a moment so that you could look him in the eye. Keeping your tone and facial expression as serious as ever, you said, “Because all the streets in New York are fuckin’ numbered, Ope.”

The statement hung in the air for a second between the two of you before you both started laughing. Opie shook his head at you, knowing that if it had been anyone else he would’ve left them to their own devices awhile ago. But it was you. He wasn’t going anywhere if it was you.

By the time you got yourself somewhat back under control, your GPS had loaded directions for how to walk back to your hotel. Lucky for you, it wasn’t as far away as you thought that it was going to be.

“I got it,” you said as you showed him your phone.

“Let me see that,” he replied, reaching to take the phone from your hand.

You swatted him away. “Hands off! You don’t think I know how to get us back?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want my real answer to that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I know how to follow a map.”

He shook his head, reaching for your phone again. “You don’t even look like you know how to follow a sidewalk right now.”

You gestured angrily at your heels. “That’s because of these shoes. Honestly, you might just have to carry me back.”

He chuckled, following behind you as you set off down the sidewalk in the direction your map was telling you to. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “That, or you can just drag me behind you like a caveman.”

He fell into stride next to you. Draping his arm over your shoulders, he said, “That sounds more like me.”

“Yeah, goes with the caveman beard you’ve got going on now,” you joked, reaching and toying with the ends of his beard for a moment. It was so much longer than it had been the last time you were home. Jury was still out on how you really felt about it—it took away the last of his baby-face.

He shook his head, knowing that you were always going to come up with something to give him grief about. Of the many things that had changed over the years, that was something about you that had remained constant. Infuriating and amusing all at once. He let you have that.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he finally said.

“I told you,” you leaned deeper into his side for emphasis, “I’m back for good.”

He liked the sound of that, but he knew better than to buy too heavily into it. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We’ll see.”

“Where else am I gonna go?” you asked, your mock offense not landing the way it should’ve when you were nearly tripping on the gaps in the sidewalk concrete.

He steadied you without having to give it a second thought. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Right now I don’t even think you’re gonna get us back to the hotel.”

You gave him a shove, not enough to really make any difference. Even on your best day in much steadier shoes it would be difficult to get him to move if he didn’t want to. All the Winston’s were like that. Your half-attempt only served to make him pull you tighter into him, which worked better for you anyway.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder, fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket that was yours for the present moment. Like it was a reflex, you reached up with your free hand and threaded your fingers with his as the two of you walked. You gave his hand a light squeeze as the two of you reached the end of the block. You gave him no warning that the two of you were turning rather than continuing forward and using the crosswalk. You knew it, too, laughing as you made a sharp right turn and pulled him with you.

You were lucky enough to catch him mid-stride, knocking him just enough off-kilter to make him follow your lead. You hadn’t been expecting it to work, and you nearly stumbled and fell in the process. Laughing, you took another half-balanced step until you felt your back rest against the side of the brick building behind you. Opie had followed your steps, his palm bracing against the wall beside your head, one leg positioned between both of yours. Your shoulders shook as you tried to hold in your laughter, your face heating up so much you were certain that if Opie touched you, he’d be able to feel it.

You placed your palm against his chest. There were words caught in the back of your throat, things that you wanted to say, things you’d been wanting to say all night, but you couldn’t get them out. You opened your mouth, hoping that would force them out, but all that came out instead was laughter that faded into a hum as you tried to get yourself under control.

When you finally resigned yourself to not being able to say anything, you slid your hand up from his chest so that it was on the back of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, one that he gave into easily and eagerly, pinning you between him and the wall behind you, his hand that wasn’t bracing him against the wall gripping tightly onto your hip.

His hand slid down from your hip onto your thigh, and he was about to start sliding it right back up and underneath the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel it in his movements, the way that he had to convince himself to stop. You couldn’t help but to smile into your kiss, eventually letting the laughter bubble over when he pulled his lips off of yours.

Your body was still pinned, not that you had any desire to really be anywhere else in that moment. You let your hand stray from the back of his neck. Your fingertips ghosted along his cheek, brushing along the edge of his beard. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Never gonna make it back at this rate,” Opie finally spoke up, not that he really seemed like he was in any great rush to go.

You laughed, head resting back against the wall behind you. “Got somewhere else you need to be?”

He smiled, shaking his head before snagging another kiss from you. “No. I got nowhere to be.”

#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #sons of anarchy #soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #opie winston #opie winston fanfiction #opie winston x reader #opie winston x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[venromanova]

baking a mess.

PAIRING ￫ natasha romanoff x fem!reader. SUMMARY ￫ covers the baking square for @storiesofsvu holiday bingo. — you and natasha make a huge mess while baking. WARNINGS ￫ none ! just fluff ‹𝟹 [intentional lowercase]

you and natasha were curled up together on the couch, comforted by the warmth of your close proximity. your head laid atop of natasha’s chest as her arms welcomed you in a tight hug. the two of you were watching tv, browsing through the endless christmas movies, when an idea popped into your head. 

natasha noticed the look on your face, the one you had whenever you had an idea. “what is it, baby?” she questioned, her fingers moving to run gently through your hair. 

“let’s bake something!” you exclaimed, sitting upright. you looked down at natasha and giggled, “it’ll be fun, come on!” 

you jumped off the couch and grabbed ahold of natasha’s hands, dragging her off the couch and into the kitchen. “what do you want to bake?” you asked natasha. 

“i don’t know, you decide,” she hummed, resting her elbows on the counter, she watched you move around the kitchen. you pulled out mixing bowls and measuring spoons from the cupboards. 

“you’re no fun. just pick something! anything!” you said, turning around to face her. your cheeks burned slightly when you realized she was already staring at you. even after years of being together, she never failed to make you flustered. 

“ok ok, how about… chocolate muffins?” she suggested. you smiled at her and began searching for the ingredients. 

once all the ingredients were found and placed on the counter, you began looking through the recipe natasha had found minutes before.  —

the two of you began measuring and adding the dry ingredients into the bigger mixing bowl. natasha chuckled as you poured a huge amount of flour into the bowl. “what?” you questioned. 

“i think that was too much flour, baby,” she said, her hands wrapping around your waist. her head rested on your shoulder. 

“i think you’re right, oops,” you giggled, “let me just-” you began to say as you scooped some of the flour out of the bowl. when you poured what you scooped up back into the flour bag, a white cloud of flour came up. it created a thin layer of flour across the counter. “oops,” you giggled again, attempting to wipe up the mess of flour. 

natasha laughed with you, pulling away from you for a moment to help wipe up the flour. 

— 

once the batter was finished, it was time to add the chocolate chips. you picked up the unopened bag from across the counter and began tearing it open. accidentally, your arm slipped and opened too fast causing chocolate chips to go flying everywhere. 

natasha laughed again, watching you stare at the chocolate chips that were scattered across the countertop. “shut up,” you said through a laugh, smacking natasha’s arm gently. 

“what! it was funny,” she chuckled, picking up one of the chocolate chips and tossing it into her mouth. 

“ok it was a little funny,” you admitted, as you also picked up a couple chocolate chips to eat. you began scooping up all the chocolate chips that sat across the countertop, as natasha gathered the ones that had scattered across the floor. 

— 

once all the chocolate chips were cleaned up and the batter was finished, you and natasha began scooping the batter into the muffin tin. despite the two of you attempting to make the least amount of a mess, the batter was spilt all over the tin. 

you swiped your finger along the batter on the pan, scooping some up. you giggled to yourself quietly before spreading the batter on natasha’s cheek. 

“y/n! what was that for?!” natasha laughed along with you. 

“here, let me clean that up,” you managed to say through your laughs. you leaned in and gently licked off the batter off her cheek. 

“really?” natasha chuckled, turning to face you. you gave her a cheeky smile as her arms wrapped around your waist. “you’re going to be the death of me, detka.” 

you leaned in and kissed natasha, your hands finding their way around her torso. “i love you,” you whispered, pulling back slightly. 

“i love you too,” natasha hummed, “now let’s get these in the oven.” she gestured to the muffins.

taglist: @lesbionion

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #venromanova

[statelysapphic]

Snowed In

S16!Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits sooner than expected, you spend the night, snowed in, with Emily. Covers the Snowed In/Blizzard square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023!

Warnings: Brief mention of alcoholism.

A/N: Hi babes! I'm very excited to share the first of four fics I have planned for this holiday season! Thanks for reading!<3

Ao3 Link

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she started, “but that blizzard rolled in sooner than forecast. There are accidents everywhere, even this late at night. I’m not driving home, nor am I letting you.” 

You peeled your eyes away from the report in front of you to look at your boss. The BAU had landed back in Quantico just a few hours earlier, and while Tara, Rossi, Luke, and JJ opted to start their weekend early, you and Emily decided to push through and finish your reports. (You didn’t want to have to worry about it over the weekend; Emily didn’t want you to be alone this late in the evening.) She was giving you a pointed look. The one she used when she had to be the boss. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to start your weekend, but you weren’t going to complain about some one-on-one time with the older woman.

“I was going to protest, but I know how to pick my battles.” She smirked at your words and cocked an eyebrow. 

“Good answer. Finish up your report, then come to my office.” You watched as she made her way up to her office, the sway of her hips more pronounced than usual. As if she was giving you a show. You tried not to think too much into it. 

You put the finishing touches on your case report and made your way to Emily’s office. Upon entering, your eyes were immediately drawn to the older woman, who sat sideways on a couch, staring thoughtfully out the window watching the snowfall. She was deep in thought, deep enough to have not noticed you yet, her thoughts were not unpleasant. No, not at all. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A set of Christmas lights framed the shelves behind her desk and cast a soft glow over her. She looked stunning. 

You had done everything in your power not to develop feelings for the woman, and yet you were unsuccessful. Though, she didn’t help either. You sometimes caught her staring at you in the bullpen from her office. You tried not to think about it too much, chalking it up to her merely observing how you interact with the team. At first, when you would catch her staring, she would quickly avert her gaze. As time went on though, she would stare just a bit longer. A look bordering fondness on her face. 

If the staring wasn’t enough, the two of you seemed to always bunk together wherever a case takes you. You could count on one hand the number of times you bunked with someone other than her. And when you bunked together, she made sure that you were okay: sleeping enough, emotionally and physically well, those sorts of things. You told yourself she was just being a good boss, and you didn’t want to interfere with that. Emily, however, knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to you. And whether or not she was ready to admit it yet, she would feel lost without you. She didn’t make it easy for you.

Emily Prentiss was an excellent profiler, there was no mistaking that. Yet, it took her a while to get a good read of who you really were. You rarely accompanied them to after-work gatherings, whether they’d been at Rossi’s or a bar, so even though you had been on the team for several months, they didn’t know a lot about you. Emily, of course, had gotten to know you through small conversations in your shared hotel rooms and she was excited to spend the evening with you. 

“Knock knock,” you said, almost whispering to not startle your boss. 

“Hey, hey,” she replied, “come on in. Take a seat.” She patted the empty couch cushion in front of her. 

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting where instructed.

“Thank you for not putting up a fight,” she chuckled.

“Like I said, I know how to pick my battles. Besides, figure it’s best not to argue with the boss.” You curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“I know it’s probably the last way you wanted to spend your Friday night. Especially after a case,” she said sympathetically.

“Truthfully, I’d be doing the same thing at home.”

“Really?” She asked, seeming genuinely surprised, “I would’ve thought you had plans.”

“You’d be incorrect,” you chuckled. “I’m quite boring.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Most of my time off the clock is spent with my nose in a book.” You shrugged, “I’m an introvert working an extrovert's job. But I also wouldn’t have it any other way.” A genuine smile painted your face, and Emily internally gushed. She loved seeing this side of you, where your guard was down almost entirely and you didn’t have to be an FBI agent. Her eyes fell to your lips for a moment, and she quickly adverted her gaze upon realizing what she had done. You, however, didn’t acknowledge it and or the heat that suddenly consumed you. 

A comfortable silence fell over you. Comfortable and familiar, almost. You looked at Emily for a moment longer before you leaned over the couch to retrieve your novel from your go bag. “Speaking of, do you mind? I desperately need to decompress after that one.”

“Not at all,” she confirmed. You dove into the novel, excited to escape reality for just a while.

You were able to read for a while, but soon you found yourself unable to stay focused on the words in front of you, too distracted by the look Emily gave you. The notion of her reciprocating your feelings crossed your mind, though only for a moment. The negative thoughts overshaddowing the positive ones. You feared she would simply view you as a child, considering the age gap between the two of you. You really only had yourself to offer, and you weren’t sure if that would be enough for Emily. 

“You’ve been on that page for a while,” she said, breaking the silence, “I can almost hear you overthinking.”

“You stare at me an awful lot,” you noted. 

“Am I not allowed to admire a beautiful woman?” She asked confidently, smirking and raising a brow. You couldn’t help but laugh at that one. 

“You think I’m beautiful, Emily Prentiss?” 

“I do.” She didn’t hesitate to answer you, and it caught you off guard. You felt yourself blush at her answer, and you knew she noticed. There was no way she didn’t. Unbeknownst to you, Emily had her eyes on you since your interview. And after giving one of the best, she knew she wanted you. Though, she never thought she had a chance. 

“Bold,” you replied, “But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t have a similar opinion of you.” 

“Oh?” She was surprised, “I didn’t think I’d be your type. I figured you’d go for someone closer in age.” You paused for a moment, allowing the silence to settle, and contemplating your next words carefully. Silence felt like the best option, or some off handed joke about your mommy issues to lighten the mood. But, Emily’s unwavering confidence emboldened you.

“You are exactly my type, actually,” you confirmed. Emily’s face softened, and for a moment you panicked. So when she didn’t immediately respond, you continued, “From the way you command every room you walk into, to the salt and pepper hair. I think you’re stunning.” The older woman held you gaze, almost unable to believe what you had told her, though she knew you were being honest. 

“In that case, you should ask to buy me a drink.” Emily sat forward, resting her elbow on the back of the couch, and holding her head up with her hand. 

“Well you should know,” you paused, “I don’t drink, my parents were alcoholics and so were their parents. But-”

“Is that why you never come out with us?” She interrupted before you could even ask her out.

“Yeah, that’s part of it, it’s not important right now. But, Emily, I would love to buy you a drink sometime, if you’d let me.” 

“I’d say yes, but I know you don’t drink, so I’ll let you buy me coffee.” 

“It’s a date then.” You smiled, knowing this was the beginning of something good. 

Tags: @virescent-v

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #wlwfic #wlw fanfiction #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

[bullet-prooflove]

BlackIce!Series - Part One: Black Ice: Frank Castle x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Ice!

Tagging: @purrrrfect @juliannatryon @beardedbarba @crazy4chickennuggets @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @pleasurebuttonwrites @annetje @adaydreamaway08 @est1887 @multiflixshelves @thanossexual @bonsaijoons @spookyboogyuniverse @ankhmutes @spaghettificationandpretzels @trublu2u @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

It’s late but Frank doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because right now he just needs to see you, be with you, because hearing that you got into a car accident whilst he was away has got him all kinds of fucked up.

When you answer the door, there’s a relief in his chest because the images he had in his head, they are far worse than the reality. The left side of your face is black and blue, there’s white butterfly stitches holding together a cut on your forehead. His gaze strays down to the knee brace and you sigh.

“Fracture and ligament damage.” You say by way of explanation as you open the door to allow him entry.

“You shouldn’t be walking around on it.” He tells you gruffly, closing the door behind him.

Before you can hobble towards the couch. Frank’s arm is already looping around your waist, supporting your weight as he guides you to it. He’s gentle as he sets you down, careful with you. What people don’t know about Frank is that he has a great capacity for softness. You are the only person who gets to see that side of him, that gets to see his tenderness, his vulnerability.

“How’d it happen?” He asks you as he heads into your kitchen. He takes two cups out of the cupboard, before filling up the kettle and setting it down on the stove.

“Black ice.” You tell him, closing your eyes as your head comes to rest on the back of the couch. “The car’s wrecked.”

You were lucky he thinks, damn lucky.

His gaze strays back to you, drinking you in. It’s been a couple of weeks since he last laid eyes on you and even with the bruises you still look like the prettiest damn thing. He can’t imagine a world without you in it, where you aren’t bringing that special brand of sunshine into his life.

You’re in pain, he can see it, it’s in the clench of your jaw as you exhale. You may be able to get away with pretending to be a badass in front of your friends and colleagues, but he knows you, intimately, he can read the subtle changes in your body language like a book.

He reaches for the medication on the top of the fridge, checking the label before filling a glass of water and bringing it over to you. He boops your forehead with his fingertip lightly, causing you to open your eyes.

A man could get lost in those eyes. Frank has over a thousand times, and it never gets old. He doubts it ever will. The left side of his mouth tips up into a smile and you smile back and for a second everything is right in the world. He’s back home with the woman he loves.

“I’m gonna stick around a while.” He tells you, watching as you swallow the painkillers. He takes the glass from your hands before setting it down on the coffee table behind him.

“Frank…” You begin and he cuts you off with that look, the one that says this isn’t up for discussion.

You forget that he knows you. As soon as he’s out the door, you’re going to be walking on that leg instead of resting. You get into all sorts of mischief when he’s not around, he dreads to think about how some of that will play out if you’re not at full strength.

He cups your jaw, those fathomless dark eyes of his looking into yours as his thumb trails across the line of it.

“I’m going to take care of you, angel.” He promises as his lips brush over yours. “And you are going to be a good girl and let me.”

Love Frank Castle? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

[pascalispretty]

Take The Edge Off

Nick Amaro x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3464

Warnings: dirty talk, discussion of sexts/sexting, swearing, car sex/sex in a semi-public place, unsafe sex, biting.

Summary: You and Nick have been trying to find the time to hook up for days. Eventually, you resort to desperate measures to take the edge off. Written for the 'I can never seem to get enough of you' square of @storiesofsvu's bingo. This one was entirely @misscharlielulu's fault. (ao3)

The first photo felt a little silly. You had gotten all dressed up and ready for Nick to come over after work - which had really involved undressing, save for some thigh-highs - only for him to cancel on you. Major case, couldn’t get away from the precinct, short staffed, the usual interruptions. In your frustration, you had wanted some sort of payback. 

Which had led to you propping your feet up on the headboard so you could take an artful shot of your legs, clad in your stockings. You know all too well how much Nick likes them, how distracting he finds it when you wear them around him. So you sent the photo off without much thought and went and had a cold shower.  

You had come back to a flurry of text messages on your phone. 

N: You can’t just send me stuff like that

N: I’m at work. 

N: Once I get done here, I’ll come over

N: You’re in so much trouble 

Smirking to yourself, you had sent a quick reply. 

I hope so.

Your hopes had been dashed again when your phone had rung less than an hour later - instead of Nick, it had been your editor. Some socialite causing havoc uptown, he needed something for the Ledger’s website. The stockings had come off, you had taken the train uptown, and Nick had gotten an apologetic text trying to reschedule for the next night. 

It had been the pattern of the last few days. You had gotten bolder in sending Nick photos - never with your face visible - and downright filthy texts, and he had responded with plenty of dirty messages of his own. Neither of you had been able to find the time to get together all week, and judging from the texts, he was feeling the frustration as keenly as you were.

Tonight, blessedly, your schedules aligned. Nick was on a late, so you spent more time than strictly necessary getting ready; picking out nice lingerie, making sure your aesthetician hadn’t missed anything when you went in for your wax last weekend, shaving and lotioning your legs. It’s going suspiciously well, and you’re beginning to wonder if your luck has finally turned when you hear a key in the door. 

Luckily you’d dressed, despite an agreement that you’d have the place to yourself for the evening. Your roommate barges into the apartment, looking as though she’s run all the way up from the subway station, her boyfriend in tow. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. I know I said I’d stay out, but Ned got the train up to see me, isn’t he so sweet?” Hannah manages, barely pausing as she passes you in the lounge. “Doesn’t your friend have his own place you can go to?” You want to argue back, but her bedroom door slams before you can get a chance. 

Not that you have much room to argue with her, since her parents pay half the rent on the apartment. Instead, you return to your bedroom to find your headphones and turn your music on as high as it’ll go before any noises start up from Hannah’s room. 

Yes, Nick had his own place, but the whole point of him coming to you was because you lived closer. Less time to wait, after days of dancing around one another. In good traffic, it was barely a ten-minute drive from the precinct to your apartment. From your place to his would take over half an hour, even without accounting for traffic. Frustrated, you flop back onto the couch. 

You could text Nick and tell him about the change in plans. The last thing you want to do is reschedule. Whatever you have with Nick might be casual, but it’s still been far too long since you last had sex with him. Before you can do anything, your phone vibrates against your stomach. 

N: I’m downstairs, can you buzz me up? 

You must have missed the sound of the intercom thanks to your headphones. Instead of buzzing him into the building, you grab your bag and head downstairs, only taking your headphones off once you’re safely out of earshot of Hannah’s bedroom. 

Nick is standing right outside when you open the door of your apartment building. If he’s surprised that you came downstairs, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he crowds you back into the lobby and kisses you. Nick’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you tight to him as he kisses you with an intensity that takes your breath away. His full lips are soft against yours. When his tongue dips into your mouth, your knees nearly buckle. It’s been too long. 

“We can’t stay here,” you blurt out as soon as he breaks the kiss. You curl your fingers around the lapel of his blazer, trying to keep him close even as you tell him he has to leave. He frowns down at you. 

“I thought your roommate-”

“Her boyfriend surprised her. Can we go to yours?” Given that he’d been willing to spend the night with you, you feel safe in assuming that neither of his children are around. And despite the vague, ill-defined boundaries the two of you have tried to establish, you’ve spent entire weekends at Nick’s place before. Nick sighs deeply, bumping his forehead against yours. 

“There was an accident on FDR Drive, the traffic’ll be terrible.” He groans, arms still holding you close. You know he must be feeling as frustrated and needy as you do. 

“If it gets really bad, we could always just fuck in the car,” you say teasingly. “Take the edge off.” At least that makes him chuckle, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. Keeping one arm around your waist, he leads you back through the front door. 

“You’re a menace, kid.” Nick squeezes your waist as the two of you walk towards his car. “You cannot send me photos like that when I’m on a stakeout with Benson.” 

“Photos like what?” You ask, widening your eyes in feigned innocence as you open the car door. “You mean like the one where my tits were practically falling out of my bra and-”

“Yes, like that. I work in sex crimes, it’s a bad look if I get turned on at work.” He slides into the driver’s seat, and you don’t miss the lingering look he gives your legs as he throws his blazer into the backseat. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, and you can’t help admiring his forearms. 

“I don’t recall you complaining.” You cross your legs, letting the lace of your thigh-highs show. “In fact, shall we review the evidence?” You retrieve your phone from your bag, opening your messages from Nick. 

“You’re not funny,” Nick starts, but he’s doing a poor job of attempting to sound grumpy. You make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat as he starts to drive, scrolling back through your messages. 

“I’m not trying to be funny, Detective, I’m making my case. You said that I can’t send you photos like that when you’re at work, but here you are straight after the fabulous photo of my tits telling me ‘they’d look even better with my come on them’.” You watch gleefully as Nick’s hands tighten on the steering wheel; there’s little you enjoy more than attempting to rile Nick up like this. He’s doing a very good job of pretending to be unaffected, but you can see the faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Guilty.” 

“And at one-thirteen AM the same night, you sent me a very vivid description of what you were thinking about while you jerked off. Do you need me to refresh your memory, Detective?” You can’t even complain about the lack of photos on his part; the texts he had sent back had been plenty descriptive. 

“I was there, I remember.” Nick’s smirking now, that roguish grin that you love. The two of you seem to have hit the traffic that he warned about, but you keep going. 

“I’ll remind you anyway. That long message, telling me that you got yourself off thinking about the time you fingerfucked me under the table at that dive bar downtown. How badly you wished you’d taken me into the bathroom and fucked me in one of the stalls. It was quite the text to wake up to.” You prop your feet up on the dashboard, your skirt riding even higher around your thighs. The motion draws Nick’s eyes, and you can practically feel his gaze dragging over your skin. 

“Well, I hope it at least gave you something nice to think about while you were in your staff meeting.” 

“Oh, it did. One of the few upsides of being a woman; you can be as turned on as you like in public, nobody’ll ever know.” The traffic is inching forwards, but you feel like you could crawl out of your skin with how aroused you feel. You glance over at Nick, pleased to see he appears to be suffering as much as you are. 

The two of you have spent the better part of the week engaged in long-distance foreplay; being alone but unable to do anything has to be driving him as insane as it is you. 

“You think you’re that good at hiding it?” Nick asks, taking advantage of a red light to turn his head and look you in the eye. “If anyone would have looked twice at you in that bar, they would have known.” 

“That’s different, you were edging me. Everybody can see if a guy gets hard in public; if a girl gets wet, nobody sees.” You tilt your head, examining the cars around you. Before you can change your mind, you lift your hips up just enough to be able to hook your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slide them off. 

“What are you doing?” Nick asks, barely blinking as you toss the damp black lace over your shoulder into the backseat. You tug your skirt back down just enough to cover yourself and give a nonchalant shrug. 

“Thinking of ways to save time when we finally get out of this car-” you start, a horn from the car behind you cutting you off. The traffic has inched forward since Nick took his eyes off the road, and he turns his attention back to it now. 

“I told you the traffic would be terrible.” 

“What would you have preferred, we stay at my place and try fucking to the sounds of Hannah and her boyfriend going at it in the next room? Or should we have gone to the precinct and done it there?” You tease, yelping when he playfully slaps your thigh. He keeps his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking over the black lace of your stocking. 

“I hate that you have a roommate.” 

“Sorry, Detective, we don’t all make six-figure salaries. With what the paper pays me, you’re lucky it’s just the one roommate and not five. And I definitely wouldn’t live close enough to the precinct for you to come over on your lunch break when you need to take the edge off.” You cover his hand on your thigh with your own, squeezing gently. 

His skin feels burning hot against yours, even with the barrier of your stocking. You tip your head back against the seat, any clever comment dying on your tongue. His fingers are so close to where you want them, just inches away from the apex of your thighs. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, your imagination running wild. In the dark corner of a dive bar with a table obscuring his hands had been one thing; you’re not sure Nick is actually bold enough to slide his hand higher, where anybody could look through the window and see.

Still, the idea alone has your breath catching in your chest, your legs spreading subtly wider. The tension in the car is so thick, you crack your window just to let some fresh air in. 

“You get bored of reading out sexts?” Nick asks, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to know that he’s smirking at you. 

“I made my point,” you manage, hyperfocused on Nick’s thumb stroking your thigh. It’s such a light, gentle touch, but you’re so pent up that even that is driving you to distraction. In fact, it distracts you so well that it takes you a while to notice that the car is moving faster than it should be if you were still stuck in traffic. 

“Did we get past the traffic already?” You ask, opening your eyes finally. The road certainly looks clearer, but you’re not entirely sure which borough you’re even in right now. Nick’s hand is still on your thigh, but he’s focusing on driving. 

“No, I ah- I’m taking one of your suggestions.” It’s all the explanation he offers. You frown, trying to remember what you’ve said. 

“I wasn’t serious about fucking in the precinct. Not that it wouldn’t be kinda hot, but Benson seems like she could be really scary-”

“We’re not going to the precinct,” he says evenly. Your frown deepens and you glance around, searching for some clue as to where Nick is driving you. The streets are growing quieter, and you swallow thickly when you realise he’s driving somewhere that the two of you won’t be seen. Nick seems to know where he’s going; you trust him.

It’s not long before Nick pulls into a nondescript parking garage. Your heart is beating so fast that your chest aches. Neither of you speaks as Nick finds a space tucked away behind a pillar and parks, as though some sort of spell has settled over you both and a single word will shatter it. 

You can’t actually be about to do this. One of you will break. One of you has to. 

Your seatbelt clicks softly as you release it, but the sound echoes through the space like a starting pistol. Nick undoes his own, his hands finding you before you can open your mouth to ask about positioning and dragging you across the car, onto his lap. You situate yourself as best as you can in the confined space, banging your head on the roof of the car as you try and straddle him. 

Nick’s hand slides into your hair, cupping the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss. If the kiss in the lobby was intense, then you don’t have a word to describe this one. You can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter. You could die a happy woman, being kissed like this; Nick’s tongue licking against yours, a low sound rumbling through his chest as he pulls you closer. 

Your fingers find the buckle of Nick’s belt, your back curving awkwardly to give yourself the space to move. There’ll be no finesse here, but the two of you are long past caring. It doesn’t take you long to undo his belt and pants, and you feel his breath hitch when you slide your hand under his waistband. 

He’s already rock-hard to your touch, and Nick breaks the kiss to moan into your neck as you take him out. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips. With your free hand, you clutch his shoulder as you align the tip of his cock with your entrance and slowly sink down onto him. 

You feel every inch of him stretching your soft walls. The consequences of no physical foreplay, though you’re at least wet enough that it doesn’t hurt. You bite your lip, trapping a moan in your mouth. Nick’s fingers flex on your hips. It’s rare that he lets you ride him and you can feel him itching to find a degree of control in the situation. 

You tip forward when he bottoms out inside you, burying your face against his shoulder to stifle your moan. One of your hands clutches at his bicep; the other grabs a fistful of his shirt over his free shoulder. A full-body shudder runs through Nick, and he gasps against your neck. 

“Oh fuck, baby-” he chokes out, his grip on your hips so tight you wonder if it might bruise. You’re not even moving, but that familiar heat is already radiating out through your body, lighting up your nerve endings. You keep your face pressed against Nick’s shoulder as you give a testing pull of your hips upward. 

He hisses into your neck through gritted teeth, every muscle he has held taut as he tries to cling onto a degree of restraint. 

“There’s not enough room in here, is there?” You ask in a whisper, your voice hitching as you sink back down onto him. “You can’t grab my hips and bounce me on your cock like you want to; I’d hit my head.” You feel his low groan reverberate through his chest. Knowing you need to be quick, you start to fuck yourself onto him, riding him as best as you can in the cramped space. 

Nick brings one of his hands up to cup the top of your head, keeping your face tucked against his neck. With your head still, he rolls his hips to meet your movements. The shallow thrusts make the head of his cock push up tight against your g-spot with every pass, sending pleasure lancing through you. You turn your head to moan against his shoulder, muffling the sound in his shirt. 

“That’s it, baby, ride me,” Nick manages, his voice tight. “You feel so fucking good, my perfect girl, just like that-” He knows hearing him will help you get over the edge - ever the gentleman, wanting to make sure you come first. 

He needn’t have worried. The sheer relief of being with him again after wanting him for what felt like weeks, and the illicit nature of what you’re doing gives everything a sharper edge. You’re so wet you can feel your slick halfway down your thighs. 

It’s dirty and fucked-up, and it’s so fucking perfect. 

“Oh Nick-” you pant into his shoulder. Your whole body is thrumming, like you’ve touched a live wire. “You make me feel so full, wanna feel you all the time, fuck-” You’re rambling, careening closer to that orgasmic high. Another low groan rips through Nick as your cunt clamps down around him, muffled by him nipping at your neck. The feeling of his teeth on the delicate skin is enough to send you over the edge. 

You chant his name mindlessly as you come, your face pressed so tightly against his shoulder to muffle your voice that you can’t breathe. Everything in you pulls tight and then lets go, delicious heat racing through your body until you can feel it in your toes. 

The force of it makes you sag forwards against Nick, boneless. He takes over, rocking deeper and pulling you tighter against his body. You swear you feel his cock throb inside of you, the feeling making your cunt clamp down around him in turn. 

Nick groans into your neck as he spills inside you, filling you up as he holds you as tightly as he can without hurting you. You’re both breathing raggedly; neither of you tries to move for a long moment. 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Nick murmurs eventually. You can’t help but snicker, your head still resting against his shoulder. You hear the click as he cracks his window; you assume the glass has steamed up. You resist the urge to swipe your hand against it like Rose in Titanic. 

“Me either. Nicholas Amaro, SVU Detective, fucking a girl in public,” you tut teasingly. Your knees are starting to ache, but it’s not enough to make you move just yet; you’re enjoying being draped over Nick like this, still split open by his cock. 

“What can I say? You’re a terrible influence, kid. I can never seem to get enough of you.” 

“Oh, I’m the bad influence?” You sit up, shuddering at the feeling of him shifting inside of you. He’s giving you that smile; the one that oozes charm and shows off his dimples. Before you can object further, he kisses you. It’s softer this time, unhurried. You could stay here for hours under different circumstances. 

“The worst,” Nick murmurs when he pulls away, running his hand down your back. “You incited a cop into committing a misdemeanour.” 

“You were the one driving”, you point out. “If you wanted me to behave myself, you could have handcuffed me and ignored me ‘til we got back to your place.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. The handcuffs’ll be waiting for you when I get you home.” 

#k2023bdaybingo #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu

[storiesofsvu]

It's Bingo Time!!

I usually do some kind of bingo for my birthday/spring and I figured it'd be fun to do one again this year. Though the timeline may be different, we'll see lol.

Prompts are all spring/summer themed or smut. Any and all of them can be made as suggestive as you’d like, you don’t need to keep the smut fics to the smut prompts!

Submissions can be anything! A mood board, headcanons, drabbles, gif sets, a one shot, a mini series/collection including all the prompts, social media au’s, whatever you want!!

The rest of the rules are under the cut!

Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, super fluffy, or heartbreaking. Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warning at the top and in the tags!!

Fics can be a ship, reader insert, an OC, whatever you want! This is for you to have some fun and get creative!

Accepted Fandoms:

-Anything and Everything!! Yes!! I am always wide open to every fandom out there! It does not need to be something I write for, regularly read or even know what it is! It’s your choice!

Some examples:

Law and Order (svu, oc, og, ci),Criminal Minds, 911, MCU, One Chicago, NCIS, Grey’s Anatomy, OUAT, CAOS, Private Practice, Abbott Elementary and everything and anything in between!

Rules!

You must tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hastag #kbdaybingo2024 on each creation. There’s a chance I will put together a masterlist (and if I do I likely won’t until it’s all over)

Bingo begins May 1st and runs all the way to June 27th

Only post ONE creation PER DAY, and only one square per creation

No under age oc’s/yn’s

Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic

Anything over 1000 words MUST be under a readmore

Please appropriately tag your characters! I don’t want to see a list of side characters who have one line or are only mentioned when it’s a specific character x reader fic!

For each fic you write, you’ll earn a ballot and at the end I’ll do a draw and there will be a winner!! (don’t ask me what the prize is yet lol)

Everyone is welcome to participate! (anyone submitting or reading smut must be over 18!!)

If you have any questions feel free to message me!!

___________

tagging some people I think might be interested!

@whiteberryx @rustyzebra @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @bullet-prooflove @hotchfiles @prentiss-theorem @scorpsik @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @polkadotpenguin16 @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity @waitingfortheendtocome @five-bi-five-mind @demonicbaby666 @baubeautyandthegeek @safficranger @valentinesfrog @milfandh0ney @asolitaryrose3 @alexblakegf @hotchs-big-hands @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @mxmmyprentiss @alexblakeisgay @jordanstark007 @chestnutninny @maximoffcarter @lizdonnelly @v3nusxsky

#writing #writing bingo #criminal minds #law and order svu #law and order #grey's anatomy #ncis #abbott elementary #chicago pd #chicago med #mayans mc #marvel mcu

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Holiday Bingo 2023 Masterlist

Happy Holidays!! This is @storiesofsvu ‘s bingo that they created and have invited me to. This bingo goes till January 20th, and until then, I will work through the bingo sheet with a new character every bingo day!

Approach at your own risk… smut =* extra smutty =**

Day 1: November 30th- Holiday Shopping Fun ~Lady Lesso xFem Reader*

Day 2: December 3rd- We Want Who We Want ~Larissa Weems xFem CollegeAge!Reader**

Day 3: December 10- Togetherness Through Hard Times ~Dom!Narcissa Malfoy xFem Sub!CollegeStudent!Reader*

Day 4: December 12- Feelings Unwrapped ~Marilyn Thornhill xFem TeachersAssistant!Reader

Day 5: December 15- Snowed In, Let Me Show you How it’s Done ~Polly Gray xFem Younger(20s)!Reader**

Day 6: December 19- Winter Love ~Clarissa Dovey xFem Professor!Wife!Reader*

Day 7: December 23- Things Heated on Christmas Eve ~Dom!Captain Phasma xFem Sub!Reader**

Day 8: December 26- Enchanted Gifts ~Mommy!Agatha Harkness xFem Witch!Reader*

Day 9: December 28- Happy Holidays, I’m Dying ~Soft!Cipher xFem Wife!Reader

Day 10: January 2- Snowball Puppy ~Dom!Bellatrix Lestrange xFem Puppy!Reader*

Day 11: January 3- New Year’s Kiss ~Kate Woodstock xFem!Assistant!Reader

Day 12: January 5- My Type ~Anna May xFem Madeleine’sNiece!Reader

Day 13: January 7- Chilly, Cold Nights ~Bo-Katan Kryze xFem Reader

Day 14: January 10- The Fire was Started a Long Time Ago ~Mommy!Alma Peregrine xFem Younger!Peculiar!Reader**

Day 15: January 12- Falling for You ~Melissa Schemmenti xFem AndrogynousPresenting!SoftButch!ShortHaired!NewTeacher!Reader

Day 16: January 13- Things Happen When She’s Bored ~Daddy!Regina Mills xFem Reader*

Day 17: January 14- Daddy’s Bunny ~Daddy!Alex Cabot xFem Bunny!Wife!Reader*

Day 18: January 16- Baby It’s Cold Outside ~Claire Debella xFem Younger(20s)!CampaignAssistant!Reader

Day 19: January 18- Teasing Snow ~Olivia Benson xFem Girlfriend!Reader

Day 20: January 19- Good Girls Get Rewarded ~Sub!Alcina Dimitrescu xFem Dom!Reader

@storiesofsvu

~~~

Thanks for sticking around 🤍🎄♥️ Leave a comment, reblog a post, message me—I want to hear your thoughts!!

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

#holiday bingo 2023 Masterlist #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #holiday bingo #cissyenthusiast010155 Masterlist

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Whispers of Spring

You take Melissa on a date to one of her favourite childhood spots.

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

CW: kissing and a single swear word, that's it I guess

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1400+

A/N: Covers the "Flowers" square of @storiesofsvu birthday bingo! Written as a little gift for @maybe-a-humanbean <3

also tumblr being the hellsite it is keeps hiding a part of this fic and it looks like i just dropped it mid sentence, i promise it’s there it’s just the hellsite hellsiting 😭

“I told you it’s a surprise! You’re not getting any clues until we get there.” you laughed as Melissa rolled her eyes, though you could see the smile she tried to suppress making its way onto her face. 

“Oh, come on, not even a single one? Dress code maybe?” she said trying to push you to give her any sort of idea where you were planning on taking her tonight.

“Something nice and comfy” you giggled “But don’t worry I’m not dragging you out for a hike.”

“Thank fuck, I think I’d have to break up with you if you did” the redhead laughed.

“Okay that’s a bit dramatic Schemmenti, don’t you think so?” you didn’t even try stopping your laughter as the older woman rolled her eyes, now standing up from her chair and placing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You have been dating Melissa for close to a year now. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that this is what would happen when you first started working at Abbott. As it turns out the unapproachable woman was not that unapproachable after all, she just needed some time get used to the new teachers coming to the school, always wary of the young ones. You were more than happy to give her that space, trying to stay out of her way as much as you could so you wouldn’t make your way onto her red list. Janine told you there was no coming back from there and you weren’t about to take any chances.

And your tactic worked, it only took her a few weeks to warm up to you and realise you weren’t that bad after all. From there she would invite you to sit with her and Barb during lunch, which quickly progressed to her inviting you over for a dinner at her house.

After a few more weeks she gathered the courage to ask you out on a proper date, to which you happily agreed.

And here you are now, basically living in her house (which she didn’t complain about, she loved having you around, always bringing some life to her otherwise empty and quiet household), madly in love with the redhead, who was equally in love with you. 

The two of you often opted for staying in for your date nights, preferring the comfort and peace of Melissa’s house (or less frequently your apartment) rather than surround yourself with strangers. This week though, you decided to plan something a little different. A little picnic date in a park that Melissa has previously mentioned to you, the same one she used to frequent as a child. Coming from a big family she would always be surrounded with her cousins, spending most of their summers together. One of her favourite memories from her childhood was going to Penn Treaty Park for a family picnic, spending the day basking in the summer sun and running around with the other kids. She’d treasure those memories, knowing they were far in the past and her family relationships became much more complicated as the time passed. 

It would be a huge waste to not take the advantage of the sunny and warm spring evenings of Philadelphia, you were planning to make the most of it.

You spent the previous day preparing everything you needed at your apartment. You made sure to pack the picnic basket with everything that was necessary, only waiting to add the food the next day. You opted for a simple charcuterie board, choosing a selection Malissa’s favourite cheeses and meats accompanied by fresh grapes and figs. For dessert you made sure to get a little assortment of Italian treats, the very ones the redhead never stops talking about: a tiramisu, fresh pistachio cannoli and her beloved, Torta della Nonna. It wouldn’t be like you to not include some wine, carefully chosen by the store assistant as your wine knowledge was still lacking. 

After school has ended the two of you parted your ways, heading to your respective residences to get ready for the evening. Your outfit of choice consisted of a simple floral dress, one that Melissa adored seeing you wear.

After placing everything in the boot of your car, making sure you didn’t forget anything you drove to your girlfriend’s house, pleasantly surprised to find the chronically late woman ready and waiting for you. The drive to the park was short, only taking about 30 minutes, and you were thankful for that as the redhead did not stop bashing you with questions where you were going. You looked at Melissa as you pulled into the parking lot, a wide smile spread across her face.

“Come on, we’re having a picnic in your favourite park” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car, heading to the boot to take everything out. Your fingers interlocked with the older woman’s as you headed towards the entrance. 

You walked through the park for a while, trying to find the most perfect spot to settle, the smile never leaving Melissa’s face. You finally settled under an old willow, across from a field filled with wildflowers, with a full view of Ben Franklin’s Bridge. You unfolded the blanket, laying it on the soft grass and proceeded to take out the food you brought one by one, while Melissa took her spot on the comfortable material. 

You opened the wine, reassuring her that you were not the one to choose it, and poured each of you a glass before settling right next to your girlfriend. You chatted for what simultaneously felt like minutes and hours, taking bites of the delicacies you brought and sipping on the wine. 

“Those flowers are beautiful, aren’t they” the redhead spoke, looking at the wildflower field spread ahead of your eyes. 

“They really are” you smiled as you held her hand. In this exact moment an idea popped into your mind, one that you wouldn’t miss out on and your girlfriend definitely saw the moment of epiphany in your eyes, which caused her to raise her brow in question. You let go of the other woman’s hand and quickly stood up, practically running to the field.

“What are you doing?” Melissa chuckled as she watched you get further away from her.

“You’ll see in a second!” you shouted back, starting to pick some of the daisies growing from the ground. It only took a few minutes before you came back with a messily assembled bouquet that you gently laid on the blanket. Melissa raised her brow at you again, but you didn’t bother with a reply, instead you separated the long-stemmed flowers one by one, carefully platting them together until they formed a long chain. 

“Hon, care to explain why you carry a sewing kit around?” the redhead questioned as you pulled out a not so small bag full of threads, needles and a questionably shaped pair of scissors.

“It’s my emergency sewing kit Mel, you never know when you need one!” you replied as you untangled the threads allowing you to cut a piece. “Like right now!” you added with a smile spread across your face.

“Emergency sewing kit?” the older woman chuckled as she watched you tie together the two ends of the flower string with a piece of thread “You really are an old lady at heart, aren’t you?”

You giggled in response, leaving a soft kiss on her lips as you finished securing the pieces together. You gently placed the daisy crown on top of her head, adjusting her softly curled hair as you did so.  

“There we go” a blush creeped onto her face as you took in the beautiful sight in front of you, the flowers perfectly complimenting Melissa’s features. She cupped your cheek with her hand, slowly leaning in until your lips connected in a passionate kiss that continued until the need for air became too much causing you to separate. You rested your forehead against Melissa’s as both of you caught your breath.

“Thank you for this y/n” she whispered “I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect evening”

“You’re getting soft Schemmenti” you teased and kissed her again before she had a chance to fire any snarky remarks back at you, both of you smiling into the kiss. 

You spent the rest of the evening snacking on the food as you were watching the sun receding in the horizon, filling the sky with a rainbow of colours. You stayed there until the sun completely set, the darkness starting to dominate the sky. 

“Come on, it’s getting cold, let’s get out of here” you said in a hushed voice as your head rested on Melissa’s shoulder “I have more surprises waiting for you at home”.

Taglist: @nightmarish-fae @storiesofsvu @maybe-a-humanbean

Join my taglist here!

#k2023bdaybingo #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #fluff #Melissa Schemmenti fluff

[plaidbooks]

Darling, may I have “snowstorms and warm cuddles” with either Helnik or Mathias with reader/an oc 🥹🥰❤️

Of course, my love! This will be Matthias x reader, and it takes place before he meets the Crows - while he's still in the drüskelle.

This also covers the Snowed in/Blizzard square in @storiesofsvu bingo!

~~~~~~~~~

The wind whipped against the sides of the tent, and Matthias suppressed a shiver. It was nice and toasty within the canvas walls, a roaring fire in the center. The only opening to the outside world was the sealed entrance and the hole way up in the top of the tent, which let the fire's smoke out.

His squad had left hours ago on a recon mission; he was still salty that he had been elected to stay behind. Matthias normally led these types of missions, but he recently received a rough blow to his side during a skirmish, and he was still bruised and sore.

So, he stayed behind to protect their equipment. And with how a blizzard was stirring up outside, he knew that he'd be alone for a few days.

For a moment, the wild quieted, and the sound of snapping twigs could be heard. It only took Matthias a moment to have his rifle at the ready, his sword on his side within reach.

He waited in silence, facing the sealed entrance, body tense for battle. But all he heard was the howling wind and his own heartbeat in his ears.

Matthias barely blinked, his breath steady; in, out, in, out. There! The wind shifted and footsteps in the slush outside could be heard. Only, they seemed...sluggish. It wasn't the sound of marching troops or stealthy assassins.

It sounded like one, tired person.

Keeping his rifle at the ready, Matthias inched to the canvas door. Slowly, carefully, he cracked it open. Cold wind and snow blasted him in the face, and if he hadn't spent his entire life in Fjerda, he would've had to shake it off.

Instead, he trudged outside, aiming and looking at his surroundings. A twig snapped to his right and he whipped that direction. But instead of a soldier or Grisha, it seemed to simply be...a woman?

Matthias opened his mouth to ask you to identify yourself, but your eyes rolled back and you collapsed forward.

Dropping his rifle in the snow, he barely caught you before you landed on the ground. He only had a moment of indecision before he lifted you, carrying you back into the tent.

He laid you by the fire before going back and resealing the entrance. If this was some sort of trick, it was very believable; though you were bundled up, your visible skin was tingled blue.

If Matthias didn't find a way to warm you, you'd surely freeze to death.

Trying not to think to hard about what he was seeing, he started to undress you, throwing your cold, drenched clothes to the other side of the fire for drying. He left you in your underclothes - they were dry and kept some modesty for you.

Then, he collected every stray fur he could muster, wrapping you in them. At one point, as he was covering you with a bear-skinned blanket, he noticed that your body was shaking.

Good, he thought, the shock has worn off. She is warming.

Once piled with furs, Matthias laid down next to you. He knew you wouldn't feel his body heat with all these layers, but he wanted to hold them tighter to you.

Gently, his hands dove underneath the furs - he didn't make it to bare skin, but close enough that he could rub the furs against you, the friction creating more heat.

He wasn't sure how long he held you like this, trying to force warmth back into your body. But after a long time, you finally stirred.

"Hmm?" you hummed, voice weak.

"Just rest," Matthias replied. "You're going to need it."

You went silent so long that he figured you must've fallen back asleep. That is, until you mumbled, "thank you, sir."

A warmth that had nothing to do with furs or fire blossomed in his chest. But before he could question it, you slipped back into unconsciousness.

#matthias helvar #matthias x reader #matthias helvar x reader #six of crows #fanfic #my writing #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

[drabbles-mc]

Take It Down

Sydney Adamu x Richie Jerimovich Carmen Berzatto & Neil Fak

For @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023! Prompt: decorations Also completely inspired by @withmyteeth, like so many of my favorite fics are

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Shout-out to Cricket for always having a never-ending supply of inspiration for all of my fictional faves. I owe you my life and also like 50% of my masterlist lmao. This is just a fun and silly little something-something!

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @hausofmamadas @darqchilddaydreamz @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It wasn’t Christmas yet. There were still a couple weeks to go before it would be Christmas. The rest of the world was in full holiday swing, but stepping into The Bear wiped that entire slate clean. There were no decorations up in the dining room—it looked classy and beautiful the way that it always did, but it wasn’t festive. No one found the lack of décor surprising, per se, because they all knew Carmy and they knew enough about the history of Berzatto Christmas Bullshit to know that he wasn’t going to be decking the halls of the restaurant.

Just because Carmy had a deficit of Christmas spirit, though, didn’t mean that everyone else was in the same boat. No one was feeling bold enough to try and throw a tree up in the dining area, but apparently someone had been bold enough to sprinkle some holiday cheer back in the kitchen.

“What the fuck is this?” Carmen asked, standing directly below the light that was previously hanging perfectly centered above the expo.

Everyone turned to see what he was looking at. Richie stepped over to him, crossing his arms across his chest as he looked at the same spot. “Looks like mistle—”

“I know what it is, cousin,” Carmy cut him off.

“You asked,” Richie shot back with a scoff.

Carmy shook his head. Looking over at Richie, he gestured to the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “How, how the—who put this here?”

Richie held his hands up in surrender, was halfway through taking a breath to try and defend himself from the accusations he knew were about to come his way, when he heard someone giggling in the midst of everyone. He dropped his hands back down to his sides, brows coming together as he turned and looked to see who it was, not that it was really much of a question to anyone if they thought about it for more than five seconds.

“Neil Geoff,” Richie said, trying to sound annoyed with him the way that he usually did but struggling because the only thing he enjoyed more than harassing Fak was anyone harassing Carmy. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He forced himself to get his giggles under control as he shrugged. “I don’t need to say anything for myself.” He gestured above their heads. “It’s mistletoe!”

“Yeah, we know what it is, Fak,” Carmy said. He looked like he was ready to grab a chair from the dining room so he could climb up and take it down himself. “Why did you hang it up?”

“C’mon, it’s almost Christmas! Have some holiday cheer.”

“What the fuck does mistletoe have to do with holiday cheer?” he shot back, running his hand along his browbone like he was going to flatten the stress out of himself.

Richie piped in before Fak could. “Maybe he thought if someone planted one on you, you might loosen the fuck up a little bit.”

Carmy waved him off. “Shut the fuck up.” Looking at Fak, he pointed at him and then up at the mistletoe. “Take it down.”

“I can’t!”

“You can’t?”

“Someone’s gotta kiss under it, Carm! If I take it down before that it’s bad luck!” Fak argued.

“We don’t need more bad luck,” Richie agreed, his tone so coated with sarcastic seriousness it was hard for everyone around them not to laugh.

Carmy was looking back and forth between both of them. “You’re both gonna have some bad luck if no one takes this shit—”

“We need to open,” Sydney begrudgingly inserted herself into the conversation, “so if we could finish this argument after dinner service, that would be ideal, I think.”

“I’m not leaving that shit up for all of dinner service,” Carmy said as he shook his head.

“Why?” Richie asked with a laugh. “Afraid no one is gonna wanna step up and kiss you?”

“Or he’s afraid that everyone is gonna be too busy kissing each other to do their work,” Fak chimed in before Carmy could answer.

“I’m not afraid,” he tried to stop both of them. “I’m fuckin’ annoyed. Take it down!”

“I can’t!”

Syd rolled her eyes throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh my god! No one cares!” She turned to Carmy. “We open in three. Can we just let it go?”

“No. I’m not leaving it up there. It’s, it’s fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Richie muttered.

Carmy’s gaze snapped over to Richie. “Cousin, I swear to—”

“Two minutes,” Sydney cut him off.

Carmy looked back over at Fak. “Take it down.”

“It’s bad luck!”

Carmy almost wanted to argue that there was no such thing as bad luck, but there was too much in his life and the lives of those around him that pointed to the contrary. However, he didn’t think that his luck, good or bad, was influenced by something as simple and silly as mistletoe hanging over their goddamn expo. But he also knew that if he said something to that effect, Richie was going to come right back with some comment about how he shouldn’t be so sure about that since his love life was either a fucking mess or completely nonexistent.

They also had about sixty seconds left until they had to open.

“Oh my god,” Sydney said as she looked over at Fak. “Neil, please. Just, take it down.”

“Can’t do it. Not until someone does the thing!”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Fuck me. We don’t have all day!” Stepping in, he placed his hands on the outsides of Sydney’s arms and pulled her up and into a kiss. It was short, almost harsh in the way that it knocked the wind out of Sydney’s lungs. It was over almost as soon as it started and Richie wasn’t even looking at Sydney when it was over, immediately turning to Fak and Carmy. “There! We all happy now?”

Carmy smacked Richie, the back of his hand colliding harshly with Richie’s shoulder. “Cousin! You can’t just fuckin—that’s sexual harassment! Don’t just fuckin’ take her and—”

Sydney cut him short, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. “Stop, Chef. It’s, uh, it’s fine. I’m good. Let’s just,” she turned to Richie, “let’s just open? Alright? We can do that now?”

Carmy sighed, shaking his head as he stared at Sydney in disbelief. He thought that if anyone was going to be on his side about Richie’s behavior it was going to be her. But there was no time to get into it all. He also had the feeling that the more he talked about it, the angrier he was going to get about it, and the more that Richie was going to give him a hard time.

“Fine, fine. Yeah.” He looked at Richie. “Go ahead and open, cousin.”

Richie nodded, the self-satisfied grin on his face enough to make Carmy want to hit him again only this time with a closed fist to his jaw. “Yes, Chef.”

Once Richie was heading out to the dining area, Carmy turned back to Fak. “Take that shit down. Now.”

“Alright! Alright. Now I can.” He fell into his half-muttering. “No more bad luck now. Would be nice if you had some holiday cheer but—”

“Fak!” Carmy shouted to stop him.

“Taking it down!” Fak said, finally stepping away to get his ladder so he could restore the kitchen to its former glory.

Carmy dismissed the rest of the small crowd that had gathered, telling them to get back to wherever the fuck they were before everything started. They were about to have people coming in to eat, after all, and none of the customers were going to wait or give a shit about their arguments back in the kitchen.

When everyone else had dispersed, Carmy returned his attention to Sydney. “Sorry about that. You, uh, you good?” He knew there must’ve been a more graceful way to ask that question but grace hadn’t ever been his strong suit.

“I’m fine,” she said, giving a small and dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m fine and we’re open now so I really gotta…” she trailed off and gestured towards where the orders were about to start flowing in.

“Right, right.”

He stepped out of the way, acutely aware that there were about a thousand other things that he could have and should have been doing, but he couldn’t quite pry himself away. He stared at her for another moment, gaze flicking over to the glass pane that let him see out into the dining area. He watched as Richie saw people to their seats, and he would have easily wasted much more time looking back and forth between the two of them if Fak hadn’t reappeared with a ladder.

“Here to strip away the only piece of Christmas The Bear has ever—”

“Just take it down,” Carmy stopped his sentence short.

“I’m going!”

Sydney was trying not to laugh at the two of them and was barely successful. She wasn’t laughing but she was still smiling. “Can’t believe you’re making him take that down now when we’re about to start—”

“I figured you of all people would want it gone,” Carmy argued, defensive already. “Keep you from getting fuckin’ harassed by Richie again.”

Syd was shaking her head as she finished getting herself settled and organized. “I’m just saying maybe it’s not the best time.”

“Am I leaving this up here?” Fak asked from the top of the ladder. “Because I’ll leave it up here.”

“No!” they both answered in unison.

“Dammit!” Fak made no move to hide his exasperation and disappointment.

Richie strode back into the kitchen just in time to hear Fak voice his feelings. He couldn’t help but to laugh. “If you want me to kiss you, Neil Geoff, you’re gonna have to find another way.”

“Yeah, right,” Fak said as he got down from the ladder, mistletoe in his hand, “like I would ever want to kiss you.” He shoved the small plant with its pretty red bow right into Richie’s chest. “Not even to avoid bad luck.”

Fak was walking away before Richie could try and come back with a clever response. Instead, Richie looked over at Carmy, waiting for him to say something. He must’ve also been struggling to come up with something pithy and cutting to say, because he just gave one last shake of his head in Richie’s direction before turning on his heel so he could go do his actual job. The one that had nothing to do with holiday decorations.

Richie looked down at the mistletoe in his hand and then looked over at Sydney who was already immersed in her work. Walking over, he stopped so that he was standing right next to her. Sydney had watched the whole thing happen in her peripheral and had made a concentrated effort to not say anything to him about anything, let alone what had happened before. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was still thinking about it, that she had any type of feeling in the wake of it.

“Want the good luck charm?” Richie asked with a laugh. He dangled the mistletoe in front of her, watching her shake her head and try not to burst into laughter. “Something to remember me by? Maybe even cash in on later?”

“There are plenty of things that you need to be doing right now that aren’t this, Chef,” she replied but avoided answering the question.

“Want me to leave it in your locker?” he teased.

Sydney hated the fact that she could feel warmth creeping up her neck and into her face. “Richie.”

Richie laughed and clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll leave it in your locker.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then can you run these plates?” she called after him.

“Sure thing, Chef!” he yelled back, laughing the entire time.

#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #neil fak #sydney adamu x richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x sydney adamu #sydrichie #the bear fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Secrets And Santas - Clara Seger/Emily Prentiss, JJ Jareau/Elle Greenaway

A/N: Another day, another fic for @storiesofsvu 's Holiday Bingo.

Clara had long been JJ’s planned secret santa gift. Convincing her to come home was, after all, free ad she knew Emily would love seeing Clara again, but she had no idea that Emily had had a very similar idea. Clara is sheparded into a second room just off the main office they use to discuss cases and JJ settles to wait for the others, she’s soon joined by Emily, then slowly the others trickle in. Each person has pulled a name randomly from a hat and JJ and Emily laugh at the fact they had pulled each others names the same way they had when it first happened, then come the gifts. Penelope opens the door to the second room, beckoning both Elle and Clara into the room, biting down a squeal of joy at seeing Elle even as she watches JJ fall into Elle’s arms, Emily’s own hug just as tight around Clara. It’s a good start to a secret santa that often goes wrong.

#criminal minds beyond borders #criminal minds #emily prentiss #elle greenaway #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #jennifer “jj” jareau #jennifer 'jj' jareau #clara seger #clara/emily #emily/clara #jj/elle #jelle #elle/jj #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

[statelysapphic]

Doctor Blake

Alex Blake x Reader

Summary: When Alex hears you've come down with the flu, she takes it upon herself to nurse you back to health. Covers the Cold & Flu Season square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023!

Warnings: Mild descriptions of illness, mostly flu symptoms. Fluff.

A/N: Hi babes! I know I said I had four different holiday fics for yinz, but life has been much busier than expected. I'm hoping to finish up another soon for ya. Anyway, here's some Alex Blake fluff. Thanks for reading! <3

Ao3 Link

You felt like shit. Laid on your couch, under a mountain of blankets, yet you still felt like ice. Your muscles ached like no other, and your chest hurt from the near-constant coughing. Your throat was on fire, your head was pounding, and your mind was foggy. You really weren’t sure what time it was, or even what day it was, just that everything hurt. You knew you were dozing off now and again, but soon, you were unable to distinguish between what was real and what was a dream. (Undoubtedly caused by the fever)

Alex was immediately concerned when she heard you had come down with the flu. Doctor's offices and hospitals were inundated with patients, though she knew you wouldn’t be one of them. You were too damn stubborn to ask for help on a good day, and you definitely wouldn’t be asking for help while you were sick. She made the executive decision to take care of you, whether you liked it or not. You had given her an extra key to your place, after all. (In case of emergencies, of course.)

The older woman had spent her entire morning perfecting your favorite recipe. One she jumped through hoops to get, but she would do anything for you.

When she stepped foot into your apartment, the first thing she noticed was your soft snores from the couch. Lightly padding through the living room, Alex was met with the sight of you burrioted in at least three blankets, only your pale face showing. Cough drops, medicines, and an empty tissue box were littered across the coffee table, clear signs you were not well. Your current state only reaffirmed her decision to take care of you. She moved into the kitchen and started to unpack the dinner ingredients. 

You woke up coughing and confused but feeling slightly better than you had been. As you were trying to make sense of your current situation, you heard your refrigerator door close. You knew you should have felt some sort of panic, but you didn’t. You listened closely for another moment before hearing the kitchen sink turn on. Confused, you shuffled through your living room into the kitchen. 

~

“Alex?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a few days since anyone has heard from you and I know you don’t always take the best care of yourself, so I figured I would stop by and check in on you.” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you croaked out, “I don’t want to get you sick. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back in the office by tomorrow, no doubt.” 

“Sweetheart,” she started, calmly, “What day of the week is it?”

“Thursday,” you said confidently, though you really didn’t know.

“It’s Saturday.”

“No way.” She laughed at your skepticism. 

“Yes, way.” You stood in place, eyes squinting, confused by the passage of time. “See, this is why you need me. Now, take this and go lay down on the couch. I’m going to get dinner started.” She handed you a glass of water and some Tylenol.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner, now please go lay down.” She pressed a kiss into your burning forehead before gently pushing you towards the living room. Doing as you were told, you laid back down on the couch. 

Alex, however, got to work in your kitchen. She had spent the morning in her kitchen, following your grandmother’s pierogi recipe. She figured making the dumplings would be a messy process and she didn’t want to make a mess of yours. Alex filled a pot with water, putting it on high heat. Once at a boil, she cut the temperature back until the water gently simmered. She cooked the pierogi for a few minutes, just until they floated to the top of the pot. Melting butter in a pan, she sauteed some onion and fried the pierogi until they were golden brown. She remembered to serve them with a helping of sour cream and chopped chives.

You were stunned when she set the plate on the coffee table in front of you. You were even more stunned when she began cutting the pierogi into smaller, bite-size pieces and began to feed you. When the first bite hit your tastebuds, you could tell the dumplings were homemade, and that you’ve had them before. It was your comfort food after all.

“‘Lex?” you croaked. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” She replied. 

“Are these my babcia’s pierogi?”

“Indeed,” she answered softly, scooping another bite into your mouth.

“How did you-” you pause, losing your train of thought. 

“Get the recipe?” You nodded, “I may or may not have gone into your file looking for your emergency contact information so that I could call your parents to get it from them.” You stared at her for a few moments, a confused look on your face, so she continued. “You once said that there wasn’t anything a plate of your grandmother’s pierogi couldn’t fix. I just figured you could use a good comfort meal.” She smiled, pushing the fork towards you again. You were unsure how she could go through all of the trouble and be so blase about it.

“This is too much, Alex,” you squeaked, “You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I take care of my friends.” Again, blase, and a bit dismissive. She didn’t want it to be a big deal, because, to Alex, it wasn’t. She’d give you the moon and the stars if she could.  

“Do you do this for all of your friends?” You asked. She hesitated to answer.

“No,” she sighed.

“Can I ask why you did this for me?” Your brain told you it was probably her motherly instincts, but you wanted to know her reasoning. Alex stared at the dinner plate; You could tell she was fighting an internal battle, unsure of what she should say next. Alex met your gaze, her eyes shone with unshed tears. Concerned, you sat forward and rested a hand on hers. Her eyes darted left to right, looking into yours. Then, briefly, her gaze drops to your lips, and right back to your eyes. It clicked. 

You had assumed your chances of landing a date with Alex Blake were low, even though you two were the closest on the team. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine, often working better together than apart. You spent so much time together in the office and in the field, that being alone was, well, lonely. More so than before you had met. Days in the office turned into evenings at one of your homes, simply enjoying each other's company. 

You noticed the signs quickly though. Whenever you laugh, you look her way, hoping to see her smile too. You sought her out in every room, and when you found her, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. You learned to hide it quickly though, she was a profiler, after all. And though you were too, Alex hid her feelings better. She was also in denial. She didn’t ever think someone ten years her junior would show any romantic interest in her, let alone a woman. The doubt bubbled within her, and the fortress she built around her feelings for you started to crumble. Tears she had been fighting rolled down her cheeks. “‘Lex,” you whispered, “It’s okay. I’m falling in love with you too.” You were shocked you admitted your feelings so easily, and for a moment you panicked. But Alex simply relaxed and a soft smile formed on her face, which calmed your nerves instantly. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Alex fed you the rest of your pierogi and finished hers as well. You knew with Alex taking care of you that you would be feeling better in no time. She stuck around until Monday morning when she insisted you take the day off to recuperate, even though you felt significantly better.

“Fine,” you sighed, defeated, “I’ll take another day, but only if you let me cook for you later this week. If we don’t have a case, that is.” You found yourself lost in her eyes for a moment, just as she stared into yours. Soft hands cupped your cheeks as she swept some hair out of your face.

“I think I would enjoy that.” Alex smiled before kissing your forehead. “Now, get some rest, will you? And drink more water.” 

“Yes, Doctor Blake,” you replied. As Alex left for work, and the door shut with a click, you whispered, “I love you.”

As Alex shut the door behind her, making sure the lock clicked into place, she whispered, “I love you.”

#alex blake x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #alex blake fanfiction #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #wlwfic #wlw fanfic

[bullet-prooflove]

Traditions - Angel Reyes x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Decorations!

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics '@crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @storiesofsvu

Following on from the Taken!Series

It’s the first time since Marisol’s death that Felipe’s house is being decorated for Christmas. Angel, EZ and Felipe don’t usually celebrate the season, instead they have a couple of beers, watch a few movies and let the day pass them by. You’re not much different. You’ve been on your own since your Nana died, you used to spend the day in the fields with your music on, collecting buds or in the apothecary making the balm that soothes away all of those aches and pains. Now there’s a child in the mix things are different. Angel’s decided to go all out and that apparently includes buying the largest Christmas tree known to man.

“She’s four months old.” You remind Angel as him and EZ wrestle with getting the tree through the front door. “I don’t think she minds how big the tree is.”

“I tried to tell him.” EZ tells you as he guides the trunk into the stand and begins to twist the pins that hold it in place. “But he was adamant, it had to be this one. I think Valeria’s first Christmas is making him a little nuts.”

“Then I guess we’re doing this thing.” You say, your palm brushing over Valeria’s fine dark hair as she snuggles even deeper into your chest.

“You are doing this thing.” EZ corrects you, kissing his niece on the top of the head. “I have hampers to deliver, you get to deal with all of his madness.”

“Traitor.” You accuse as you walk him to the door.

EZ gives you that shit-eating grin of his as you shoot him the middle finger. You watch him climb on his bike, raising Valeria’s hand to wave goodbye before you close the door behind him. When you turn to face the tree, it feels like it’s even bigger than it was two minutes ago. You can hear Angel in the other room, rooting through the box of decorations that he’d brought down from the attic.

“OK kid, your dad’s gone a little crazy but we’re gonna lean it into it ok?” You say to Valeria as her tiny fist grips the fabric of your shirt. “We’re just gonna lean right into it.”

***

Valeria is asleep by the time you’ve finished decorating the living room. The tree glows from the corner of the room, bathing it in a warm light as the two of you sit on the floor alongside Valeria’s bassinet. The scent of pine floods your nostrils, the sound of Bing Crosby’s Christmas album playing on the decade’s old stereo. You’re both drinking hot chocolate, not the instant kind. One made from traditional cocoa, something Angel had picked up along with the whipped cream and marshmallows.

It's perfect, this moment. Your little family taking a breath and enjoying the holidays. It’s been a hell of a year with everything that happened with Skye and then your recovery but you’re here celebrating the holiday season with your lover and daughter.

“You know, I thought you’d gone a little insane with all of this but now I get it.” You say as you survey the room, the tiny family heirlooms on the mantlepiece, the fairy lights intermingled with the wreath. “It’s beautiful.”

“You thought I’d lost my mind, didn’t you?” Angel teases as his lips brush over your temple.

“A little.” You admit, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “But I get it. You want the perfect Christmas for our little girl, something like the ones you remember from your childhood.”

“My mom used to make it so special.” Angel tells you as his gaze comes to rest on the tiny handmade ornaments he’d made with his mom once upon a time. “Even when we were grown, we’d still come over, help her decorate. I want traditions like that with Valeria, with you...”

His hand comes to rest upon your stomach, his thumb smoothing over the place where his son resides. He knows it’s a boy, he can feel it in his bones. “Our new baby.”

“You haven’t told anyone right?” You murmur, your palm coming to rest upon his. “It’s still too early.”

“No Mi Reina I haven’t.” He says, tipping your chin up so you can meet his gaze. There’s such love in those eyes, such tenderness, such adoration. His lips brush over yours and it’s the sweetest kiss, so soft, so meaningful. His thumb ghosts along the line of your jaw and he smiles just a little as you moan into his mouth. “Isn't that what got us here in the first place?”

He draws away as Valeria mumbles grumbles in her sleep, his gaze slipping to his daughter.

“I can’t believe how blessed I am.” He tells you, his warm fingers splaying over your abdomen. “You, Valeria and little peanut are the best gifts I could have asked for.”

“It’s going to be a great Christmas.” You say entwining your fingers with his. “The best one yet.”

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fic #mayans mc

[pascalispretty]

The Poetry of the Body: Two

Miguel Galindo x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3070

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, fainting, references to sex/implied sex, implied age gap, hurt/comfort vibes, AU where Emily doesn't exist.

Summary: You and Miguel discuss the possibility of expanding your family, and negotiate the details.

A/N: thanks to my beloved @misscharlielulu for all her love and support in getting this finished, and @bullet-prooflove for her Nestor advice. Title of the fic is from ’La llama doble. Amor y erotismo’ by Octavio Paz. Title of the chapter comes from 'Pedro Paramo' by Juan Rulfo, full quote on ao3. Written to fulfil the 'don't worry, I'll take good care of you' square for @storiesofsvu2-0 / @storiesofsvu's bingo! (ao3)

Two: The Pure Murmuring of Life (ao3)

It’s one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Miguel rose early in order to attend to some business south of the border, leaving you to wake up alone. Your whole body aches – another thing you blame Miguel for. Having sex on the kitchen floor certainly seemed like a thrilling idea last night, but you were paying the price for it today.

The day only gets worse once you shower and dress, and make your way downstairs. Any notion you have about taking Cristóbal out for breakfast abruptly shatters the moment you hear him screaming, a harried-looking Maria attempting to reason with him in Spanish. Still in his pyjamas, your son’s small body is wracked with sobs at the injustice of not being allowed to climb into the dryer and go for a spin. 

It takes what feels like hours to soothe him, and it’s closer to lunchtime by the time he’s finally calm enough for Maria to take him upstairs and dress him. You stay downstairs, sitting on the couch to talk to Nestor. Starving, sore, and head pounding, you’re relieved to have a moment of calm. 

“I don’t want to stay out for long; I just need to get out of the house. Is there enough security still here?” You have no concept of how many men have gone south with Miguel, but the fact that he left Nestor here tells you he’s not expecting any trouble. Nestor stands by the arm of the couch and nods. 

“More than enough to keep a detail at the house while we’re gone. I’ll ask Paco to bring the car around.” He takes his phone out and begins tapping out a message, and even the sound of his phone keyboard clicking makes you rub your temples. Maybe you should take some ibuprofen before you head out. You’re so hungry you feel sick; a granola bar wouldn’t be a bad idea either. 

Before you can do anything, you hear footsteps on the stairs again. Cristóbal is all smiles when he comes back downstairs, finally dressed and ready to go. He beams when he notices you on the couch and twists in Maria’s arms to reach out for you. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you ready?” You ask him, standing up quickly. 

It’s a mistake. 

Your vision blurs. The room swims in front of you, and you’re only vaguely aware of your knees buckling before everything goes dark. 

Sounds come back to you first. Cristóbal is crying again, but he sounds oddly muffled. You’re too disoriented even to try opening your eyes. Instead, you focus on your breathing. 

You’re on the floor, that becomes apparent quickly. The wood is pleasantly cool against your forehead. You don’t know how you ended up down here, but you try not to think too hard about it. After a long pause, you gingerly open your eyes. 

It takes a moment for you to be able to focus on anything. The first thing you do see clearly is Nestor, kneeling beside your head. He has your wrist in his hand, you realise, his fingers resting over your pulse point. He must have caught you before you fell, lowered you onto the floor. An intense feeling of déjà vu sweeps over you; you’ve been in this exact position before. 

The fainting was the first real sign that something was wrong last time. 

You can vividly remember waking up on the kitchen floor to Miguel yelling at someone to bring the car around. Breakfast had been abruptly abandoned, the bacon smouldering alarmingly on the stove. You had only found out you were pregnant a week prior and the fainting spell had been written off as the result of your body simply adjusting to the new life growing inside it. 

Then the vomiting started. You lost weight at a rate that alarmed your doctors, who kept you in for a flurry of tests. Hyperemesis gravidarum had been the official diagnosis; morning sickness so severe that you could barely keep water down on some days. Between the dizziness and the nausea, you had hardly left the house until after your son was born. 

As soon as you realise that you fainted, you know that you’re pregnant again. 

You stopped taking your birth control months ago, but your periods had stayed irregular; you have no idea how late you actually are. The reality of it hits you all at once, but you do your best to choke it back. Cristóbal is sobbing in Maria’s arms, desperately wailing for you, and you raise your head slightly. You need to take care of him first. 

“It’s okay, baby, Mama’s okay. Come here,” you tell him. Nestor lets go of your wrist as you shift on the floor, trying to make yourself marginally more comfortable on the wood. Maria brings Cristóbal closer, eventually setting him down so he can toddle over to you. 

“Do you want me to help you up onto the couch?” Nestor asks quietly, before your son can reach you. Cristóbal crawls into your arms, his cheeks damp as he presses his face against your collarbone. 

“No, thank you. I just need to stay here for a minute.” You can’t fall again if you’re already on the floor. Nestor nods, wordlessly grabbing a cushion for you to rest your head on as he stands back up to his full height. In your arms, Cristóbal has settled slightly, though his voice is still thick with tears. 

“Mama fell,” he says plaintively, and your heart swells. 

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. Did I scare you? I’m okay, Mama’s okay,” you whisper against his warm forehead, breathing in the smell of his hair. You rest your head on the cushion and look up to see Nestor and Maria sharing a meaningful glance. Cristóbal’s little fists grab handfuls of your hair, but you barely feel the pressure on your scalp. You know what that look is about. 

“Don’t tell Miguel.” It comes out harsher than you mean it to. Nestor and Maria exchange another look, before Nestor sighs. 

“Mikey’ll want to know.” 

“And he will. I’ll tell him myself when he comes home tonight.” You hold Cristóbal a little tighter, rubbing his back. The last thing you want to do right now is argue with Nestor, but you can’t back down. “Please, Nestor. I’ll tell him tonight.” 

He looks unconvinced; it’s hard to convey how serious you’re being while you’re lying on the floor. 

“Maria, would you mind making Cristóbal something for lunch? I don’t think we’ll be able to go out today after all.” To your relief, she nods and walks towards the kitchen. One less person to deal with right now. The mention of food makes Cristóbal squirm in your arms so you let him go, watching him toddle off to the kitchen to ‘help’ Maria. Gingerly, you start to try to shift into a sitting position. Nestor notices, crouching back down automatically in case you faint again. 

You manage to sit yourself up, your back resting against the couch as you take several deep breaths. All of this would be so much easier if Miguel was home. He grew up with housekeepers and nannies and security guards; he’s infinitely more at ease issuing them with orders than you are. Even Nestor, occupying that liminal space between employee and childhood best friend, does what Miguel tells him to do. 

Orders don’t come naturally to you. Especially not now, when your head is a whirlwind of different emotions and needs, all pulling your attention in separate directions. Miguel would take care of everything if he were here, having conversations that need to be had and making appointments that need to be made. But you have no idea where he is or when he’ll be home, so it’s up to you. 

“Nestor,” you start, swallowing thickly. “I need you and Maria not to say anything to Miguel yet.” 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you know I have to tell Mikey.” Him calling you ma’am isn’t a good sign. Miguel had half-stepped into the role of older brother for him since he was a teenager; you aren’t going to overcome more than twenty years of loyalty. He’ll never listen to you over Miguel. 

“If you tell Miguel I fainted, he will want to know why. And he’ll know why, the same way that I’m sure you do. Miguel will figure it out the same way you did.” You know in your gut that Nestor knows. The same intense déjà vu that struck you must have hit him too; an echo of the six long months where he hardly left your side when Miguel wasn’t around. It had been a sign of how concerned Miguel really was about you, leaving his most trusted lieutenant to watch over you and the life inside you. 

“...Mikey doesn’t know?” Nestor asks eventually, taking a seat on the coffee table - still close enough to catch you if you faint again. You’ll mention it to Miguel later, how seamlessly Nestor has fallen back into old protocols. 

“No. I don’t even know yet, not for sure. But I don’t want him to find out like this, Nestor; hundreds of miles away, because something bad happened. Let me tell him myself tonight, so he can celebrate.” You watch him think it over, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Eventually, he nods, and you sigh in relief. 

The two of you negotiate a little more - he’ll talk to Maria, he’ll do his best to make sure Miguel comes home at a reasonable hour tonight on a security pretext, you absolutely promise that you’ll tell your husband that the fainting has started again - and he helps you up onto the couch before he leaves. 

You settle back onto the couch, closing your eyes as you get comfortable. From experience, you know you’ll need to stay put for an hour or so. The sound of Cristóbal’s uneven footsteps makes you open your eyes again as he runs up to the couch, his stuffed rabbit in his hand. 

“It’s ‘kay, Mama. Make feel better.” He thrusts the stuffed rabbit at you, and you tuck it into the crook of your arm. Another powerful wave of emotion washes over you, and you will yourself not to cry; you don’t want your son to think his sweet gesture has upset you. 

“Oh baby, thank you.” You whisper, stroking Cristóbal’s curls gently. “You know, Daddy had a brother too. That’s who you’re named after.” Your son brightens at the mention of his father, babbling the word ‘daddy’ happily back to you, looking around for Miguel. “No, Daddy’s not home yet, sweetheart. But we’ll have a nice surprise for him when he comes back, won’t we?” 

****

You watch anxiously from the kitchen window as the cars are let through the gate, the convoy your husband took south arriving home seemingly without incident. Certainly, there’s no sign that Miguel came home in a panic, word having reached him of what happened today. 

Since your fainting this afternoon, you’ve been relatively busy. Maria had kept Cristóbal occupied while you rested on the couch, planning your evening, and Nestor had gone out for the items you’d requested. You’d briefly wondered why he’d bothered to go himself for steak and sparkling grape juice, until he returned from town with two boxes of pregnancy tests stashed among the groceries. 

You really needed to tell Miguel to give him a raise. 

By the time Miguel walks through the door, everything is ready. You smooth your hands down your dress, stepping out of the kitchen to greet him. 

“Hi baby,” he starts, his eyes widening slightly once he gets a good look at you. “Did we have dinner plans?” You’re overdressed for dinner at home, a green dress that clings in all the right places. He kisses you chastely in greeting, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.

“No, I made us dinner. I thought you might need it, after your day.” You lead him by the hand to the table on the veranda outside. The fire and torches are lit, casting everything in a soft golden light, and music is playing softly from the speakers. 

“Valentine’s Day was last month. Or is this you angling for a repeat of last night?” He asks teasingly, the fingers of his free hand finding the bruise he’d left on your wrist when he pinned you to the floor. 

“Maybe.” He humours you, especially when he realises you’ve made him filet mignon, so rare that the knife glides through the meat with almost no resistance. That, and the pinot noir you’d opened for him, provide an excellent distraction. He doesn’t question why you’re drinking a different wine - which isn’t wine at all, but sparkling grape juice you’d decanted into an empty bottle - or eating a blander meal than his own. 

The conversation throughout dinner is light; he doesn’t offer any details about what he was doing south of the border, and you don’t ask. You want the other world to be as far away from you as possible tonight. The mains finished, you tell him to stay put while you clear the table and fetch dessert. 

You uncork the champagne in the kitchen and sink the bottle into the waiting bucket of ice. For a moment you wish you could take a sip, just to steady your nerves. From the cabinet, you fetch a single champagne flute, one of the Villeroy & Boch set that had been a wedding gift. You take the stem between two fingers and turn it so the base rests in your palm, allowing you to carry it at the same time as the stainless-steel bucket. 

“I know that champagne is more of an apéritif than a digestif, but it seemed more appropriate for the topic.” You tell Miguel once you’re back in earshot. He turns to look at you, a faint smile playing around his lips. The firelight suits him; between the shadows and the golden wash of light, he looks like an oil painting—a study of some long-ago king, all easy authority and charm. 

“What’s the topic?” He asks, leaning back in his chair so he can watch you. 

“Celebrations,” you tell him, pouring the champagne for him. “It’ll be yours and Cristóbal’s birthdays next month.” It had felt like it meant something when Cristóbal was born just days before Miguel’s own birthday in April - the one silver lining to having to deliver him early. Instead of returning to your own chair, you sit in Miguel’s lap. His free hand comes up to your waist instinctively, holding you close while he reaches for the glass. 

“Three already,” Miguel says, taking a sip of his champagne. You drape your arm over Miguel’s broad shoulders, taking a moment just to savour the closeness. 

“I know.” Your fingers find their way into Miguel’s hair, combing through the thick black curls. He relaxes under you, a long sigh escaping him. He takes another sip of champagne and frowns. 

“You’re not having one?” Miguel turns his head to look at you. “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?” His tone is teasing, and he playfully pinches your side. His fingers land over a ticklish spot, and you giggle in spite of yourself. 

“No. I can’t have one.” You bite your lip, waiting for him to connect the dots. “That’s the other thing we need to celebrate.” Miguel’s lovely dark eyes search your face, his expression softening. 

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. 

“I took the test today. I still need to go to the doctor’s to confirm but-” Whatever else you might say is cut off by the kiss Miguel gives you. He pulls you even closer to him, his champagne glass abandoned on the table so he can wrap his arms fully around you. 

“Te quiero mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs between kisses. For the first time all day, you can relax and just let your emotions wash over you. You’re having another baby; it’s a thrilling and frightening prospect all at once. 

“I love you too.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder as he pulls away slightly to take another sip of his champagne. You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in contented silence. The fire has dipped low, and the breeze rolling in off the hills makes you shiver in your thin dress. Miguel is immediately on alert, setting his empty glass down and looking at you with concern. 

“Do you want to go inside?” Miguel asks, rubbing your arm. The pressure is just slightly too much on your sore skin, and you wince. “Baby?” He tugs the short sleeve of your dress up, exposing the already-forming bruises you had acquired earlier. 

“Oh. That was my first clue I was pregnant again; I fainted this afternoon. Nestor caught me.” You try to keep the worry out of your voice, stroking your fingers down his forearm. Miguel fixes you with a searching look, those beautiful dark eyes carefully searching your face. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asks. You know that tone; it’s one that brooks no argument, allows for no white lies. 

“Physically? Fine. A little tender, maybe.” You begin, but Miguel’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Emotionally? I don’t know. Happy, yes. Scared.” Your voice breaks a little on the last sentence. Miguel smooths a hand over your hair, adjusting you on his lap. 

“We know what to expect this time. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You turn your head into his shoulder, trying not to ruin the celebratory mood. For a long moment, you sit there like that, Miguel’s hand running soothingly down your back. Even pressed against him like this, you shiver again. 

“Let's get you inside.” Miguel lets you go, and you slide reluctantly off his lap. 

“What about the champagne?” 

“I’ll take care of the champagne. You take care of you. You said you were feeling fine physically?” He asks, draining what’s left of his glass. You nod, and he grins, stepping closer to you. There’s barely an inch of space between your bodies, and he catches your chin between his finger and thumb, tilting your face up to look at him.  

“Go and get yourself into bed. And then I’ll see what I can do to take care of you.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @burningtacozombie @ben-c-group-therapy @90sisthenew80s @beccabarba

#miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #k2023bdaybingo

[storiesofsvu]

Holiday Bingo 2023

That's right besties! It's that time of year again! And in an attempt to keep y'all entertained with your favourite blorbos, I'm hosting this bingo so we can all share our creations and you have something to fixate on while I'm busy as hell at work!

As per usual:

Submissions can be anything! A mood board, a ficlet, headcanons, drabble, gif sets, one shots, social media au's, make it a mini series following the holiday journey of the same two characters! literally whatever you want!

Prompts are all winter/holiday themed. If it specifically says "Christmas" it does not need to be Christmas, it can be whatever holiday this time of year that you want!

Read the rest of the rules under the cut!

Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, make it tooth rottingly sweet, make it angsty as all hell and break our hearts, make it a wild AU, do whatever you want with them as long as they are what inspired your story. (aka "first snowfall" could be the first time character a is seeing snow, it could be the first snow of the year, it could be the characters baby's/dog's first time seeing snow. It can be cute, catching snow flakes on tongues or sad, bringing back memories with a friend who has passed. Literally whatever you want.) Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warnings/tags at the TOP of the post and I don't want to see any TikTok censoring of words!

Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, or any kind of crossover! Mix and match, stick with one, try out a new character or fandom!

Accepted Fandoms:

Literally everything and everyone. This is wide open to any and every fandom/show/movie that you want, it's free game besties! It doesn't matter if I write/read that fandom, do what you would like!

Some Inspiration:

-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)

-Criminal Minds

-Marvel

-NCIS

-One Chicago

-Abbott Elementary

-Mayans

-Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice

-911/Lonestar

-OUAT

-The L Word

-Wednesday

Rules:

You MUST tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hashtag #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 on each creation and I'll put together the masterlist.

Bingo begins on November 25th and will run all the way to January 20th.

You may only post/submit ONE creation per day!

Only one bingo square per creation

No underage characters involved in relations.

Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic

Anything over 1000 words must be under a readmore!

Everyone is welcomed and encouraged to participate! You do not need to be following me, we don't need to be mutuals, if you see this post and want to play, let's go!

If anyone has questions, feel free to comment or send me a message/ask!

Some playlists to get us in the mood:

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tagging some people who might be interested? (if you got tagged and have no idea who i am/where this came from it is likely that i have read your stuff and loved it/have some bookmarked on my to bed read lol. feel free to ignore.)

@prentiss-theorem @swimmingstudentchaos891 @rustyzebra @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @adarafaelbarba @detective-giggles @mickey-gomez @alexusonfire @bumblebear30 @tropes-and-tales @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @beccabarba @prurientpuddlejumper @fighterkimburgess @baubeautyandthegeek @melk917 @blackbird-brewster @virescent-v @leftoverenvy @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @daddy-heather-dunbar @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @five-bi-five-main @thehauntingofbasingse @supercriminalbean @h0tch-r0cket @bullet-prooflove @boldlyvoid @astrophileous @slutforsilverfoxes @cissyenthusiast010155 @hotchs-bitch @honeypiehotchner @whiteberryx @v3nusxsky

#law and order svu #criminal minds #ncis #marvel #mcu #abbott elementary #wednesday #wednesday netflix #grey's anatomy #writing bingo #law and order #one chicago #911 #911 lonestar #mayans mc #stranger things #wanda maximoff #olivia benson #larissa weems #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #melissa schemmenti #Spotify #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023