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xzaddyzanakinx · 5 months

Text

| So, So, Right | pt. 2

Stepbro! Anakin x innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: eventual smut, inappropriate relationships, make out sesh, reader has oral fixation

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, Anakin is conflicted, NOT PROOFREAD

You were impatiently waiting for Anakin at the front door at 5:00 pm sharp, your makeup retouched and your hair up in an elegantly smooth ponytail. A small scrap of white satin tied in a bow covered your ponytail holder, you’d left your clothes on from earlier just in case Anakin came home yucky, you didn’t want to get your nice clothes dirty.

“What are you doing?” Your mom came up behind you, a mason jar of ice water clinking in her hands.

“I’m waiting for Ani. He’s gonna take me to the movies!” You turned around quickly to flash a big smile at her.

“What are you gonna see?” She slipped her arm in yours and pulled you to the couch, “sit down, standing over there isn’t gonna make him show up any faster.” She laughed.

“I dunno, whatever he wants I guess.” You shrugged, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“You know, I’m proud of you.” Your mom said softly. “I was really worried that you two wouldn’t get along.”

“What? Why?” You scoffed.

“Well you’ve been an only child your whole life and so has he. Sometimes it’s hard to adjust to a new family structure.” She patted your knee.

“Well I don’t think it’s been hard, I love him, he’s my favorite!” You grinned.

“You’re too sweet for your own good.” Your mom laughed, smiling widely as she heard Anakin’s truck pulling into the drive way.

Your feet hit the ground immediately, pushing open the glass storm door and waiting for him on the porch. His white shirt was discolored and put his jeans had stayed spotless, you assumed he probably took them off to wear his work clothes. He slammed the truck door shut, bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song he’d been listening to moments earlier.

He jogged up the front steps and held his hand out to stop you from running up to him. He grinned at your pout and furrowed brows, giving a light chuckle at your reaction.

“Look at me, you don’t want this all over you do ya?” He gestured to his stained shirt and grease streaked arms.

“I don’t care!” You rolled your eyes, a slight smile creeping up your lips when he bent down with his hands behind his back to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon. Gotta shower.” He opened the glass door and ushered you inside with a gentle pat to your ass.

“Ani!” Your mom greeted him with an awkward smile, a bit of confusion in her eyes.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat, - did she see that? -

“Hey Satine.” Anakin swallowed his guilt laced worries and smoothed the situation over with his charming smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the stairway, before jogging up to your shared bathroom.

You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of grape juice for yourself and a can of Pepsi for Anakin. Your mom following closely, her anxious demeanor went unnoticed by you.

“Gotta go get changed.” You said as you slipped past her.

“Knock knock.” You said playfully as you entered your room, seeing the bathroom door wide open and the steam coming from the shower.

Receiving no answer you hummed to yourself while you sat down your drinks, turning to your neatly made bed and seeing a cute light pink summer dress, clean white cotton underwear, a pink bralette and some white sandals. You smiled to yourself, loving when Anakin chose your clothes for you.

You slipped out of your dirty clothes and into your clean ones, stepping into the dress just as Anakin was walking out of the bathroom with a towel hung low on his waist.

“Is that okay?” He questioned, making sure you’d be comfortable wearing the outfit he’d picked.

“You always pick the perfect thing.” You smiled, pulling your ponytail over your shoulder and spinning around so Anakin could zip your dress.

He ran his knuckles down your spine on their way to your zipper, sending cold chills through you. You giggled at the sensation and pulled your shoulders up to your ears when his plump lips made contact with the nape of your neck.

“Gorgeous.” He clicked his tongue, eyes roaming your figure.

He turned on his heel, going to his room to get clothes on. He dropped his towel about halfway through the bathroom, leaving him completely bare. He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge what he had done, you blushed as an unfamiliar feeling bloomed in your stomach. You shyly looked anywhere but his open door, that is until he came strolling in, focused on buckling his belt.

“How d’ya think I look?” He did a little twist in place to show off his nice casual clothes. Non-ripped black jeans, black vans and a black&red flannel with a Minor Threat shirt underneath.

Giving him two thumbs up and a big smile you bounded over to him, stopping right in front of him. He leaned down a kissed each side of your mouth, pulling back to smile softly as he stared at your lips.

“How come you never kiss me for real?” You asked, Anakin seemed a bit taken aback by this.

“Do you want me to?” He leaned in closer, noses brushing together.

“Yes.” You smiled, closing the distance between you.

Your lips meeting in a gentle embrace. His velvety smooth lips caressing yours in an intimately cute dance. You could feel him trying to stave off a smile and it sent a shiver down your spine that made you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He pulled back grinning.

“Nothing!” You squeaked, feeling warmth forming at the apex of your thighs.

You felt a bit shy, so you just quietly held out your hand for him to take. Which he of course did, pulling you to the door and down the stairs at breakneck speed, catching his breath on the bottom step with a laugh.

“Need some cash?” Obi-Wan asked, not looking up from his book on the couch. “Satine said you’re going out?”

“Nah I’ve got it covered.” Anakin said, flicking his wrist in a wave at his dad.

“Be safe.” Obi-Wan peered over his book from under his glasses.

“Always are, aren’t we bunny?” Anakin teased, playing with the ‘ears’ on your satin bow.

You giggled and agreed, making your way to the front door and into Anakin’s truck in no time at all. Anakin beat you there to open the door for you, waiting until you had buckled your seatbelt before closing the door and climbing in his side. His warm hand resting on your knee, squeezing lightly as he backed out of the drive way.

“Took a bit longer than I thought,” he hummed, “Sonic okay? I don’t think we have time for a restaurant.” He tapped the clock on the radio.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You agreed as he pulled up to a stall to order your food. You were just happy to be here with him.

A vanilla milkshake and a whole load of tater tot’s later you were making your way through the ticket line at the movies, settling for something scary. Anakin always teased that you weren’t ‘big enough’ to handle horror movies, and you wanted to prove him wrong.

“I promise. I won’t get freaked out like last time!” You tugged on his shirt sleeve while he laughed.

“Sure. Sure. Just don’t come crying to me when you get scared.” He said semi-sternly.

“Fine.” You crossed your arms, feelings a bit squished thinking that he might’ve been serious.

“Baby, I’m only kidding. You know that.” He pulled you into his chest with a possessive tug at your hip.

“I know.” You answered quietly, collecting your tickets from the man at the counter.

“Let’s go find a good seat m’kay?” He pulled you along, his arm thrown across your shoulders.

He led you to the top row, the theater was sparse compared to what you expected. The movie had been out for at least two weeks but you didn’t expect it to be so empty. You clapped excitedly, loving that you practically had the whole place to yourselves.

Anakin lifted the armrest between your seats so you could lean over on him, lifting his arm up so you could comfortably wiggle into place. His arm around you lowered until he had a firm grip on your upper thigh, his thumb in the crease where your leg met your hip, his long fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

That warm feeling crept back up into your stomach, sending a shiver down your legs. Anakin noticed, smirking to himself before twisting to pepper your hair with kisses.

The movie started off slow, but as it went on the gruesome violence was starting to get to you. You tucked yourself up under his arm, hiding your face in his chest.

“Is it too much babydoll?” He whispered, his breath ghosting you ear.

You shook your head, not wanting to admit defeat. “No, just tell me when the killer is gone.”

A few seconds later Anakin gave you the okay signal and your head popped back up to see the bloody aftermath on screen. It was enough to make you nauseous, you closed your eyes and swallowed, refusing to give in to your silly childlike fear.

You squeaked and sunk back into his chest, feeling his chest rumble as he held back a chuckle.

“My poor girl.” He tutted, stroking your cheek softly. “Do you want to go?”

“No!” You pouted.

“There’s no shame in being scared babe. It’s called a horror movie for a reason.” He squeezed your cheeks to puff out your lips, making you giggle.

“I can do it. It’s almost done.” You nodded, sneaking your thumb into your mouth. Chewing the skin on the sides of your fingernail. As stupid as it was, it was comforting to you. At this point you didn’t care if Anakin thought it was weird, you just needed to calm yourself.

He watched from the corner of his eye, your lips wrapped around your digit made his cock twitch.

“Princess?” He whispered softly, his hand not occupied by your ass cheek came to tilt your face toward his.

Sullenly you removed your thumb and gave him a shame faced smile. Afraid he’d be judgmental, your eyes widened as he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. His gaze never left yours as he slipped the pad of his thumb past your lips and slid it gently across your tongue in massaging circles.

“That better baby doll?” He asked, his voice husky as he shifted in his seat.

Something about the way he asked you this, or maybe something about the way he looked at you had you feeling that warm tingly feeling in your stomach again. You hummed in agreement against his thumb, earning a little grunt from his throat. He crossed and uncrossed his legs as he tried to get comfortable again, his dick straining in his jeans.

You spent the rest of the movie just like this, Anakin’s thumb caressing your tongue and his other hand migrated under the hem of your dress, trailing lightly up and down your thigh.

As the credits rolled you unfurled from Anakin’s embrace, reluctantly standing up to stretch. Anakin laced your fingers with his yours and led you down the steps and too the main foyer of the theater.

“Hey!” Someone called your name and your head spun in search of the source.

A hand waving frantically caught your attention and you squinted to properly see their face. Joshua, a student from one of your Gen. Ed. classes made his way toward you.

“Who’s this?” Anakin asked, his hand tightening around yours.

“A boy from school!” You said, dragging him behind you.

“Josh! This is Anakin, Anakin, Josh.” The boys nodded toward each other, gauging the other reluctantly.

“How’s your summer?” Josh asked, choosing to ignore Anakin completely.

“Oh it’s good, Ani just started a new job, we’re out celebrating!” You looked up at Anakin proudly, resting your hand on his chest.

“Oh. Nice.” Josh grumbled, “he your boyfriend?”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted. “No silly, he’s my stepbrother. Remember? I told you my mom was getting remarried.”

Anakin’s arm slithered around your waist, pulling you back into him. Tilting your head back to kiss your lips with a devilish grin plastered on his face. You were too busy gazing up at Anakin to noticed the flash of disgust travel across Josh’s face.

“Alright, Josh,” Anakin mumbled, “gotta get my pretty girl home don’t I?”

“Mhm, okay Ani.” You smiled, waving in the general direction of josh, completely unaware that he had made a fast exit after Anakin’s display of affection.

“I didn’t like that guy.” Anakin sighed as he ushered you into the truck.

“Why? He’s always been nice.” You asked.

“He seems off. I think it’s best if you keep your distance princess.” Anakin smoothed your dress before buckling you in. “I just wanna keep you safe.”

“I know, I trust you.” You smiled.

“Good girl.” Anakin grinned, closing the door and making his way to his side.

The ride home was quiet as you watched the night sky twinkle with the stars, streetlights flickering and porch lights turning on. The pavement gave way to gravel as Anakin pulled into the drive way. Suddenly then air felt a bit thicker when he clicked the release on your seatbelt, you turned to him, his face just inches from yours.

“Let me try something okay princess?” He breathed, “c’mere.”

He pulled you into him, one hand on the nape of your neck and one hand pressing against your lower back.

Tentatively he dipped down, eyes flicking from yours to your lips before he dove in and pressed his mouth to yours. In comparison to the sweet kisses you’d shared earlier, this was rougher, more passionate. The aggressiveness of it had you gasping for air and Anakin’s tongue slowly pushed against yours, exploring your mouth slowly, making sure to memorize your taste. Reluctantly he pulled back, your lips chasing his until he gripped your neck firmly.

“You have no idea what that does to me.” He palmed himself, shifting his cock to fit more comfortably, turning your head away when you tried to watch what he was doing.

You whimpered into his mouth as he captured you in another devouring kiss, this time you moved your tongue in sync with his. Earning a moan that rumbled from his throat to your lips. He paused, as if considering something, before cupping your face in both hands and tilting your head back.

His lips left yours to place a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your throat. Taking note of the way you clenched your thighs tightly together and leaned into him, a pleased smirk on his face when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you inside before I… well let’s get you inside.” He chuckled to himself.

Your head too fuzzy to even question him about his odd statement.

“Hop up here baby doll.” Anakin tapped the bathroom sink. Bringing a washcloth to your face to remove your makeup for you.

Brushing your hair and braiding it down your back for you. He placed your toothbrush in your hand and brought your hand up to your mouth. Encouraging you to go ahead and start brushing your teeth while he went into his room.

“You can wear this tonight,” he laid one of his sleep shirts next to you on the counter.

“Spit.” He held a cup to your lips for you to spit your toothpaste into, rinsing it out and filling it with a bit of water for you to rinse the residue out with.

“All done.” He smiled, lifting you up by your hips and standing you in front of him, unzipping your dress slowly, placing his shirt in your hands.

“Go ahead, I’ll turn around.” He smiled, turning on his heels and dramatically covering his eyes.

You let the dress fall to the floor and kicked it aside, removing the bralette and pulling his shirt over your head. Leaving you in just his shirt and your underwear. You tapped his shoulder and he turned his head to nip at your fingers just to hear you squeal.

“Climb up in bed baby doll.” He ushered you into your room, peeling back the covers for you to crawl under.

He dropped his jeans to the floor, and slipped his shirt over his head. His toned stomach stretching as he lifted his arms over his head. He crawled in after you, pulling a book off your nightstand to start reading.

“Just one chapter tonight okay?” He yawned, petting your cheek as you laid on his bare chest.

“Okay.” You nodded, fiddling with a loose string on his boxers.

Anakin tried his best to ignore your fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on his waist. He was quickly becoming flustered, your hand so close to his crotch while you were completely unaware of what you were doing to him. Your touches getting heavier as you felt sleep creeping in, the back of your hand grazing across his half hard length. He jerked unexpectedly and caused you to stir.

“Are you okay?” Your head shot up worriedly.

“Yeah ‘course. Just a little jumpy.” He smiled, a light blush across his nose.

“Did I hurt you?” You asked, this time purposely dragging your fingers over the same spot to see if he reacted again.

Anakin did in fact react to your touch, a muffled groan slipped out and he tried to cover it up with a cough as he shut the book. He gently moved your hand up his abdomen, looking down at you with obvious conflict in his eyes. You didn’t understand, you just recognized that he was uncomfortable as he grabbed at his crotch and repositioned himself with a grunt.

“No you didn’t hurt me.” He smiled, “just- just a little sensitive there.”

“M’sorry Ani.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up from his chest, playing with the hairs between his bellybutton and the waistband of his boxers.

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know baby doll.” He leaned down and cupped your face in his large hands. Rubbing his nose against yours before giving you a peck on each cheek.

“Goodnight princess.” Anakin stood, pressing his lips to his thumb and swiping it across your bottom lip.

“Night Ani.” You whispered as Anakin turned out your light and left to his room.

Anakin laid awake, his cock throbbing and his mind spinning. Finally he sighed, deciding he needed some relief. Slowly he palmed himself through his boxers, groaning from the sensitivity of being hard for so long. He closed his eyes, pulling his member free from the tightened fabric, stroking himself languidly as he pictured your lips around his dick like they’d been wrapped around his thumb earlier.

Just as his legs stiffened and the hot coil in his stomach snapped he heard the pitter patter of your footsteps on the cold bathroom tile. His cum coated his palm, he panicked shoving his softening cock back into his boxers. Thinking quickly he slipped his sticky hand beneath the sheets and wiped his palm against the side of the mattress.

“Anakin?” You sniffled, shuffling to his side.

“What is it princess?” Anakin’s face was blood red, his voice shaky.

“Can’t sleep.” You lifted the blankets and forced your way into his bed, pushing him away from the edge so you could take his spot.

“Bad dreams?” He asked quietly, lifting his arm for you to tuck yourself against his bare chest.

“Uh huh.” You nodded, “remember at the movie?”

“What about it baby doll?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“Can I?” You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes.

Tentatively you picked up his free hand, bringing it to your lips. He didn’t protest, so you assumed it was okay, his calloused thumb settled on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up, noticing a weird taste on his skin, tangy and salty. You pulled his hand from your mouth and looked up at him quizzically.

“Why’s it taste like that?” You asked, opening his palm and licking a stripe up the rough skin. Collecting the residue on your tongue while Anakin tried his best to hold back a groan as he felt himself getting hard again.

“That’s enough.” He said sternly, pulling his hand back from your eager lips.

“But- what is it? Tastes good.” You pouted.

“Oh god.” He whimpered, shoving his face into his pillow.

“Ani?” You whined, trying to push him to roll over, so you could see his face.

“Just a second baby.” He sounded like he was having trouble breathing, and it worried you.

“No, lemme see.” You demanded, using all your strength to shift his weight so that he was laying on his side.

He still refused to look at you, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth in a vice grip. So you hiked up one leg and tossed it over his hip, using it as leverage while you place your hands on his chest and pushed. You fell on his lower abdomen, the mattress springing beneath you caused you to bounce slightly as you landed on him, your ass settling on his crotch.

His hands quickly came to your hips, gripping you tightly, trying to lift you off of him.

“Babydoll. No.” He warned, but you crossed your arms and shook your head. Further making your point by scooting back, feeling a warmth pulsing beneath you.

A tiny whimper left your lips when you unintentionally rolled your core against him, a streak of lightning rushed through your body that made your eyebrows furrow and Anakin’s hands left your hips to cover his face.

“Fuck. Baby? Baby!” His hands shot out to grab your wrists that were planted firmly on his bare chest. “Remember when I said I’m real sensitive down there?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your cunt down on his now rock hard cock.

“God. Please princess I need you to stop.” He groaned, his voice gravely.

His grip on your wrists tightened, squeezing until his fingers dug into your flesh. You tried to shake loose to no avail.

“Let go!” You whined. “Why do I have to stop? Feels good.”

“What?” He squeaked, eyes wide.

“Feels good Ani.” You looked down at him with sad puppy eyes as you rocked against him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, in disbelief at what you’d just said. One hand coming to your cheek in a gentle caress.

“Say that again.” His voice thick with want.

“Feels good Ani. Just let me.” You answered immediately.

“Show me where it feels good, tell me what it feels like.” He tapped your hip to get you to lift off of him.

“Here.” You whimpered as you pressed two fingers against the center of your panties, feeling a wet spot there. “It tingles. It hurts.”

“Do you want me to help? I can make it better.” His hand left your cheek and slithered around the back of your neck, waiting for your answer.

“Please?” You nodded feverishly, the air being knocked out of you when Anakin flipped you onto your back.

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 1 year

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Hii dear, how do you think Bucky would react to reader asking him to touch himself while she watches?

I am so sorry, this took way too long, but inspiration hit me and I think you might like it, so here ya go! Let me know what you think.

“Absolutely not.”

Zero room for negotiation. Exactly what you expected when you planned to ask Bucky to try something new. And exactly the challenge that you were looking for, because heat has already started to compress low in your belly at the idea of getting him to cave now.

Not that Bucky comes up short in the bedroom – not at all. But he isn’t the most flexible when it comes to trying new things, even if you are certain that there is a part of Bucky that revels in sexual exploration. After all, with his strong physique and heavy training, in combination with his dark mentality, he has so much potential to take it …far in the bedroom. And the burden falls on you to prod and poke until he allows himself to indulge in all his heart desires – for you to eventually indulge in him.

“Why not?” you plead at him.

He arches a brow at you and continues making the bed with you, arms flexing as he works. “Because why would I masturbate in front of you when I can fuck you?”

Jeez, he truly is a caveman sometimes…

“Because it’s hot, Bucky. I want to watch you torture yourself,” you tell him like it’s the most obvious thing on the planet and this time Bucky pauses before giving you a compressed smile. Maybe torture wasn’t the best word…

“You think it’s hot, because you think masturbating is torture for me?” he asks and you study him, wary all of sudden, since you have a feeling he is about to prove you wrong.

“Buck–”

“No,” he interrupts you, giving the duvet one last shake as he finishes making the bed and turns to you fully. “You want me to fuck my fist while you watch? Fine. You will watch...” A long pause. “ – and only watch.”

…

This is torture.

“Bucky,” you plead, breathless from less than nothing, “come on, stop teasing.”

He answers with only a smirk and the flex of his hand around his base, dragging it up and pressing more blood to the throbbing head of his cock. You would think him teasing himself would destroy him, but apparently the sight of you is enough to edge himself endlessly.

You buck your hips up and shimmy down on the mattress, tugging at the restraints that keep your wrists tied to the headboard. This position is even less comfortable, but you barely notice over the pleading ache between your hips. He just looks so fucking good pleasing himself. Your breath hitches when you feel your own arousal drip down between your ass and you quickly press your thighs together in embarrassment.

But Bucky’s eyes darken and his stare turns into that of warning. Standing at the edge of the bed, one knee pressed into the mattress and his dark-blue jeans popped open to let his cock bob against his rough abdomen, you swallow a whine at the sight of him.

“Legs open, sweetheart,” he reminds you and you instantly snap them open with the feeble hope that he will allow you to have him sooner. He watches your naked chest rise and fall with frustrated breaths, your hands turning and twisting against the restraints.

Utterly naked and tied up before him as he strokes and strokes and strokes himself until you’re drooling, you feel helpless before him. It’s pathetic how this is the thing that can bring you to a whining and whimpering state. And he hasn’t even touched you. Your skin was already on fire when he stroked his knuckles down your arms after tying you up. All he has done is throw more gas onto it.

His eyes drag down your body to watch your cunt, and it pulsates in answer to his stare, making him chuckle under his breath. Your toes curl into the sheets and you close your eyes to take a controlled breath, desperately grappling for something of power. But you have noticed something.

You were wondering why you were eyeing him so expectantly at the beginning, waiting for something, only to find out you were waiting for sounds. For him to groan, or whimper, or– Fuck it, you would take the sound of a hitched breath. But barely anything made it past his lips and you realise with pride burning in your chest like a thousand suns, he only loses control like that when it’s you touching him.

He’s too stubborn to make sounds otherwise, crack his pride to show you how much you affect him. But you’ve seen him lose his restraint. You’ve seen him gasp with that first heavenly thrust, felt his fist tighten in your hair and heard the filthiest moan known to man against the shell of your ear.

So all you have to do is remind him. You open your eyes.

“Let me lick it,” you tell him and Bucky freezes, his eyes hardening on yours.

“What,” he snaps, teeth gritting.

“Let me taste you,” you continue. “Come on, I can see you want to come, Bucky. Come in my mouth.”

You can see his brain working over hours and you bite back the smug smirk that wants to break through when you see his cock throb and his fist tighten over it. His eyes flash and he crawls onto the bed, shedding his jeans and boxers as he crawls over. It is all you can do not to arch your entire body towards him, the anticipation dripping down into the sheets from between your legs.

“You want to have a taste?” he nearly whispers and crawls between your legs, his lips hovering over yours. And you would wrap your ankles around him and trap him, or tilt your chin and kiss the breath from him, if it wouldn’t put you back to square one of begging for your man.

You nod. Barely.

“Close your eyes,” he commands and you do so instantly. “Open your mouth.” You do.

You wait for the warm, salty taste of him, your breath quickening when you feel the proximity of Bucky and nothing more. It feels like hours that you lay there, waiting for something – anything – from him.

And just when you’re about to protest and tell him to hurry the fuck up, the breath gets knocked out of you and you arch up to the ceiling with his cock buried so deep into your cunt you lose each and every thought. The long, raspy, filthy moan that follows at that feeling gets swallowed by Bucky’s greedy mouth and he groans in response, like a breath he has been holding for over an hour.

“That was torture,” he mumbles against your lips, his resolve clearly faltering. “Watching your drip for me, beg for me, right in front of my nose. Nothing compares to you.”

You sigh at his words and tug at the restraints when he pulls out. Opening your mouth to protest, another sounds garbles out when he pushes in to the very hilt again and every wall of yours hugs him into you further. Fuck, he’s in deep. Slow, steady, with a sharp push at the end that makes your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. He presses kiss after kiss after kiss to your swollen lips and he whispers and mumbles things to you that you can barely make out as he starts thrusting in and out of you. Some things are in Russian or Bulgarian or–

Fuck, his voice. “I want to feel your legs around me. Want your fingers in my hair,” he grunts and you can barely make sense of his rambling. “Want to feel you squeeze me and I want to taste you,” he lets out a starved groan, “God, I want to fucking taste you.”

In a second, he has pulled out of you, pulled away from you and crawls between your legs. His strong arms and hands manhandle your legs tightly around his head and you don’t get time to squawk in surprise before his whole mouth engulfs your throbbing pussy and you melt into the sheets until you yourself are nothing but silk and softness.

“Oh, Bucky,” you whine and he hums against you in delight, one wide hand spreading over your belly and squeezing as he eats you up.

He licks and nibbles and sucks and devours you whole. And when his tongue pushes into your hole slowly, you writhe against him and hiccup for breaths. Nothing is enough, everything is too much. You don’t know what you want from him, you don’t know what you are or want to become. You only know Bucky is the way to get it. To get relief and extasy and pleasure and warmth and Jesus Christ, this man will kill you.

“I counted,” he mumbles against you. “You watched me fuck my fist for ten minutes.” You gasp for breath as his nose circles against your clit and he inhales deeply. “So I get to make you come at least ten times.”

Oh no, oh no, oh no– “Holy fucking shit!”

“One.”

#bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #writing #drabbles #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #I turned myself on #this is inspired by my work crush who wore a flower crown i made for him yesterday and then proceeded to tell me about his girlfriend #pls tell me what you think??#answered #drabble

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

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did we ever get a follow up on that night with bob? the 7th date one where he ate us out twice? pls my brain is short circuiting i need to know if we get to fuck him💔

Not only did we fuck him, we also learned another surprising thing about Bob: he has a raging size kink. Aka Full of Surprises Part 2: Electric Bugaloo

Warning: fem reader, language, unprotected sex, Bob has a huge dick, Bob is also a sweet precious bean, size kink, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, creampie, slight dacryphilia (depends on how you look at it) just wrote 3.8K of porn, don't look at me

Being with Bob Floyd was the closest thing to euphoria.

When you were with him, you felt at ease and as light as a feather.

All he had to do was look at you with that sweet lopsided grin and joy would pulse through your veins.

It was why you didn’t mind pausing as you two both recovered from your previous activities and just laid in bed, kissing one another before continuing.

“I love kissing you,” Bob whispered before pressing another kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips.

A giggle escaped as you weaved your hands into his hair, fingers gently grasping at the now soft, ungelled curls, “Could have been doing it a lot sooner."

"I know," Bob groaned, shaking his head, "I wanted to, like really bad. But I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Of course he didn’t. Even after making you fall apart on his mouth twice, make sure you were at ease was still at the forefront of Bob’s mind.

"Well," your fingers traced the soft skin of his broad shoulders, "I think it's safe to say we are now very comfortable with each other."

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips. How was this man real? More importantly, how was he in your bed?

That was something to figure out later. Right now, you were too busy soaking in the sensation of his body on top of yours, lips attached to your neck, and what just brushed against your thigh?

Your hunch was confirmed when he rolled his hips against yours again.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Out of all the things you learned tonight about Bob, this one shouldn't have come as a shock.

He wasn't short, far from it. You barely came up to his chin. When he cupped your face, his thumbs would rest comfortably along your jawline while the rest of his hands covered your whole neck. He was able to lift you up like it was nothing, for crying out loud.

So out of all the things you learned about Robert Floyd tonight, the fact he was well-endowed shouldn't be a surprise.

And yet, here you were, mouth open and eyes wide as saucers when you saw just the tip of his cock peeking out from his boxers, resting against one of his pale thighs.

That was just the tip?

Was it even going to fit?

"You okay?" His voice was full of concern. His cerulean eyes never left your face.

"I um….y-you're big." You mentally kicked yourself as soon as the words came out of your mouth.

A hand flew up to the back of his neck, rubbing the warm skin, "Uh yeah I…that's why I wanted to get you used to my fingers. We um, we don't have to-"

"No! I mean, that was a 'no' to the idea of us not doing something. Sorry it's," you sighed, bringing a pillow to cover your face, "it's been a while and I've forgotten what's proper etiquette but I know exclaiming that you have a big dick isn't it."

Bob couldn't help but chuckle, though there was no malicious intent behind it. Usually he was the one rambling and getting flustered. As nice as it was that the tables had turned for once, he didn't like that you were hiding.

"Don't hide that beautiful face from me, darlin'," it wasn't meant to be a command. But the way his voice was low and raspy made your thighs clench.

He gently pulled the pillow away, revealing your flustered face. There wasn’t any hint of ego on his face (despite having a very big reason to). Instead his face was sweet, a soft smile adorning his handsome face.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out.

Bob shrugged, "For what? I mean, it's kinda….well, hard to miss. Can't exactly hide it, y'know."

You giggled, instantly feeling more relaxed, "Do you normally talk about your dick size in bed or should I feel very special?"

"You should feel special," Bob's hands cupped the sides of your face, bringing your lips to his for a brief moment, "because you're absolutely incredible."

His lips trailed away from yours, moving down to your neck, past your collarbone, until they reached your chest. Your back arched as his mouth took one of your nipples, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin.

"R-Robby," you gasped when his fingers traced your entrance.

The way you moaned his name was addicting. Bob had to stop his hips from rolling against the bed, knowing now just how easily he could come from watching you fall apart on his fingers.

Instead, he watches, memorized by how your cunt stretches to accommodate his thick fingers. His cock twitched at the thought of how it would feel, desperate to have a turn.

He knows you like him, and he's ninety-five percent positive you're the one for him. Which is why he doesn't want to rush things.

A groan escapes your lips, your hips buckling up to meet his fingers, despite shaking your head, "I'm-I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

Bob chuckled, leaning over so that his face was mere inches away from yours, fallen dark blonde locks tickling your forehead.

"Ya say that like it's a bad thing, darlin'." Prior to tonight, you had never seen that smirk on his face. It was the closest to cocky that Bob had been and you really shouldn't find it fucking hot but here you were.

"W-wanna come on your cock," you whined. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his fingers, you loved them inside of you. But now that you knew, you were desperate to know how his cock felt.

His blue eyes widened as his hand stilled its movements. Bob opened his mouth as if to speak, and then promptly closed it, your words replaying over and over in his brain.

Fuck.

Once his brain came back online after short-circuiting, Bob found himself quickly removing his boxers, tossing the undergarment somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. He could pick it up afterwards.

A joke about being eager was on the tip of your tongue. Though it died as soon as Bob wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and placing you on his lap.

For someone lean and lanky, he was deceptively strong.

Any and all thoughts left your brain when his cock slid through your slicked folds. Bob couldn't help but smirk; the person who sought him out, who asked him out, now a moaning mess from just feeling his cock against you. If he had more stamina, he would continue; brush his hardened cock against your clit, drawing out high-strung moans until you made a mess with your own cum.

Another time.

It felt exhilarating, knowing there would be more times in the future. You didn't even flinch when he laid you back down on the bed, a pillow now flushed against your hips. You raised an eyebrow, confused by the action.

“It um…it helps with….y’know.”

Bob was going to do this right.

"Please tell me you have lube." It took a few seconds to process his words, as you were too busy registering the fact he was able to manhandle your body without a second thought.

"Why would we-"

"We're gonna need it. Makes it easier." The fact he said it with zero doubt, because he knew it was true and he wanted you comfortable, made your head spin. You were used to guys either treating you like a rag doll or as if you were made out of glass.

But Bob Floyd treated you like you were made of starlight. One that was capable of thoughts, one that deserved having things explained, not to downplay your intelligence, but because you deserve to know.

It was subtle and the worst part was that he probably didn't think anything of it. To Bob, this was how he would treat anyone he cared about.

But to you, it meant everything. So much that it made your heart swell.

Meanwhile, Bob was frozen because while he definitely heard you say that you had lube in the top drawer of your dresser, his mind was on another thing that happened to be in his wallet, which was now somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"I uh-I have a condom in my wallet. Not that I usually carry one around. I mean, obviously I do but like, I didn’t like, actively go out, buy one, and put it in my wallet. One of my buddies gave it to me as a joke and I figured y'know, it's good to have in case I or anyone else needs it. Not that I expect to, you know, it's just it's good to always be prepared just uh just in case. I was a boy scout and they always emphasize that part, being prepared. They didn’t relate it to having sex safely, the context for them was more about carrying a first aid kit and I really should stop talking about that and check if the condom hasn’t expired-"

"God, you're so fucking cute," you sat up, hands reaching out to grab his broad shoulders, crashing your lips onto his in a bruising kiss.

"T-thanks," Bob mumbled, glad you found his rambling endearing, as well as that you cut him off before he began talking about his Eagle Scout project.

"I have an IUD. I also wasn't planning on being with anyone besides you." Bob's eyes widened, but instead of regret or fear (the emotions you were used to receiving), there was joy?

"R-really? Because I feel the exact same way but didn't want to assume anything or-"

"Have I not made it obvious that I'm crazy about ya Robby?"

A rosy tint dusted his cheeks as he looked down, "Didn't want to assume."

"Well, you don't have to assume," you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his, "I like you a lot. So quit assuming I don't."

“So it….wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that like, we’re going steady? Like officially-”

“I want you to be my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking Robby.” You could feel the smile he had as he kissed you

He gently squeezed your hands, smiling at the reassurance, "Can I make love to you?"

"I'd love nothing more, Robby."

Love.

It's like music to his eyes, hearing the word come out of your mouth.

He knows it's too soon, and in the back of his mind, he's yelling to himself why did you pick that word don't scare her. But with that sweet smile of yours, it's easy to drown out that nagging voice, and instead focus on the fact he's definitely falling in love with you.

"Um, where did you say the lube was? Got distracted by that smile of yours." Heat rushes to your face from his words, and you nearly forget to give him an answer.

With a quickness you had never seen from him, Bob located and applied the lube. Yes it was rude to stare, but it was hard not to look at his dick when it was that noticeable.

A large hand gently cupped half of your face, "You'll tell me if it's too much, right?"

"Course," you mumbled against his lips, your hips brushing against his.

The chuckle he let out made your heart flutter, "I know darlin', I'm excited too. Don't wanna hurt ya."

You could never hurt me Robby was on the tip of your tongue. But it died upon feeling the head of his cock enter you. The stretch was a delicious pain that made you throw your head back. Your hands dug into his back, leaving half-crescents along his skin.

Bob's head dropped down to your chest, his mouth taking in one of your hardened nipples. It was a tried and true method; distract you from the initial pain with something more pleasurable. His eyes never left your face, on the lookout for any sign of discomfort.

The grip you had on him relaxed, your back arching as his teeth gently tugged on the hardened bud.

"Robby." His name came out in the form of a strangled whine, your cunt still adjusting to the sheer size of him.

"You okay baby?" He asked before switching to your other breast.

"Y-yeah. You c-can move now, n-now that it's all-"

"Darlin', I'm only halfway in ya."

Fuck.

"Wait, what?" How quick your voice changed from desperate to shock was near comical.

Bob tried to stifle his laugh, instead just shrugging, "I….I told ya it was a lot."

"I didn't realize, I mean, I know you said it was big, but I didn't realize it meant-" Jesus Christ.

"I get it, I know plenty of guys who have said they had nine inches when they really meant five."

The comment was so unexpected from Bob, you couldn't help but laugh. He joined you, feeling at ease despite that he was halfway inside of you and you felt fucking incredible.

He peppered your face with light kisses as he slowly inched more of himself into you. As the moments passed, your body began to get used to him.

"Gonna start movin' now, 'kay?" You nodded eagerly, your fingers gripping the ends of his dark blonde hair.

"Fuck, Robby!"

"D-darlin."

He felt incredible, making you feel a fullness that had your back arching. Had that ever happened before? You thought that was just some made up shit you read in-

All thoughts left your head when the head of his cock brushed against your sensitive walls. Without even thinking about it, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

Bob was trying to think of everything under the sun that would keep himself from coming before you did, which normally wasn't a struggle.

But you? You felt incredible.

Every sound that escaped your lips was enchanting. If you were a siren, he was diving head first to answer your call. It was mesmerizing watching you react to taking all of him; your lips slightly parted, your fingers grasping at the sheets as his thrusts increased in intensity. Your thighs trembled as he bottomed out once more, eyes widening as you process that he's finally completely inside of you and holy shit.

Bob wasn't sure what he had done to deserve an angel like you, but he was fucking grateful for it.

"R-Robby," your voice reduced to nothing but strangled whines, "S'big."

"Fuck, you were made f'me," Bob's voice was low and strained against your ear. His words, combined with the desperate panting that fell from his lips with every thrust, made the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap at any moment.

The only thing you could muster that resembled speech were longing whines. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched by him, to have his cock brush against that sensitive spot that sent you tumbling closer to the edge. That no one had ever felt this good, had been this good to you.

But that would require the ability to form coherent thoughts.

"Ya gettin' close baby?" His drawl was thicker. Prior to Bob, you didn't think of Midwestern accents as hot. But his voice was addicting.

You simply nodded, head now buried in the crook of his neck.

"Don't worry, I got ya." He brought two fingers up to his mouth, coating them with his tongue.

The sight had you whining. Call it being greedy, but you wanted all of him.

"Ya wanna help?" You nodded your head, lips parting to allow his fingers into your mouth.

"Such a sweet girl," He practically cooed, watching as you took the two digits up to his knuckle.

The grunt he let out upon feeling your throat tightened as you gagged on his fingers was downright animalistic. It didn't help that Bob could feel how much it turned you on, your cunt clenching around his cock at the sound.

His fingers left your mouth to trail down to where your bodies met and began drawing right circles on your clit.

At this point, you were ninety percent certain that you were shouting Bob's name. It was hard to tell, between the bed creaking with every thrust, the downright sinful grunts Bob let out everytime he felt your walls tighten, getting closer and closer to the edge. All this, plus the sound of skin slapping against skin? Who could think about noise complaints?

Your neighbors could get fucked.

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, teeth all but clashing against yours as his tongue became familiar with your mouth.

"W-wanna ride you," you mumbled against his shoulder, hips buckling against his.

Bob simply shook his head, despite how tempting your offer was, "Gotta get ya used to me, darlin'. Next time, 'kay?"

Next time. Next time. You knew it would be at least a couple of days until next time, that you (and your cunt) would need time to rest and recover and you already knew that in itself was going to be torture because fuck, no one had ever made you feel this good before.

But you couldn't wait for the next time.

"C'mon darlin'. Wanna see if ya feel just as good comin' on my cock as ya do on my fingers. Think ya can do that f'me?"

Maybe you nodded. Perhaps you even gave Bob a verbal response. You weren't sure, as your brain had gone fuzzy while white hot pleasure overtook your body.

Bob was surprised he could still thrust in and out of your cunt, considering how tightly it was clenching his cock as you came. The sight of your head thrown back, eyes closed, as the rest of your body withered in pleasure was enough for him.

Your eyes opened upon hearing the most beautiful sound; a deep, guttural moan as Bob's hips stuttered before coming inside of you.

There had to be other ways to get him to make those sinfully sweet noises.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in your room was your overhead fan and heavy panting as you and Bob attempted to catch your breath.

Fuck, he came a lot.

"Was that, um, was that-"

"That was fucking incredible." Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, "Could go for another round if I'm being honest."

Bob groaned in frustration, "I wanna be able to fuck you within the next few days, not weeks."

You whined in response as he began to shift his body, the grip your legs had around his waist tightening.

"Darlin', I don't wanna hurt ya," he knew you would be sore, even if you didn't feel it yet. Bob knew you would tomorrow, hell probably even later tonight.

"No! Robby, please. N-need you. Need you s'bad." The idea of being empty, of being without him was awful.

He didn't want to hurt you.

But he could help wash your sheets.

"Think you can come f'me one more time?" His voice was raspy as he pulled out. Confusion melted away into pleasure when you felt his cock drag through your soaked folds.

He was thick and still hard, which baffled you. You were used to 'one and done'. You were used to men rolling over and falling asleep after they fucked you, not even bothering to check if you actually came.

"You looked s'good, takin' all of me," He cooed. The praise made your head spin.

Your hips jerk upwards, trying to catch him, but Bob sees right through it. His large hands are able to hold you down and you're honestly not sure if that was better or worse.

"I told ya darlin', don't wanna hurt ya. Need to take a break," His gruff voice was stern.

You gasped when the head of his cock dragged against your clit. Bob could already recognize the tall tale signs that you're close; your back arching, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your whines increasing in pitch.

He zeroed in on the swollen bundle of nerves, eliciting a near scream from you as you began to come undone on his cock.

Bob couldn't help it, he tried not to curse that often. But the sight of you soaking his dick with your come caused his brain to go blank.

What was definitely a scream came out from your lips when you felt his cock slip back inside your cunt. Your hands reached up, tugging at his hair, earning a near-growl from Bob.

“I can’t get enough of ya. Feel s’fucking good,” each word was punctured by a thrust, “Look so pretty like this.”

As your lips parted, three fingers slid into your mouth. The sudden lack of oxygen, the sensation of his calloused fingers against your tongue, had you nearly gagging on the thick digits.

Tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. In the back of your mind, this should be painful. Maybe you should tell Bob to stop, he would listen after all.

But god it felt so damn good. You felt high off the immense pleasure you were experiencing, the big wave brought on by your previous orgasm having melded into small waves of pleasure. Small moans dribbled past his fingers, your hips weakly trying to meet his.

In the back of his mind, Bob knew he should pause, should stop and ask if you wanted to still continue. But he also knew how much you enjoyed it, despite the tears.

But that didn’t stop him from dipping his head down to your face, soft lips kissing away the tears.

“Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He directed. How did he know that? They certainly didn’t teach that in Eagle Scouts. Or maybe they did during the swimming badge?

His cock brushed against that one spot you swore folks were making up and your mind went blank. Amidst the deep haze, his fingers leave your mouth, hooking themselves under your chin, forcing you to look upwards so he could kiss you again.

God, did he love kissing you.

More than the fact you made him come now three times in one night. More than the fact you were currently soaking his cock, back careening off the bed as you continued to come.

"Oh, R-Robby."

But that nickname, that made his heart swell, that made him feel truly at ease, made him feel like himself -not Robert or Bob- when you called him that?

That was a close second.

Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso, your head resting on his broad shoulder as you began to recover from tonight's excursions.

"Stay for a little bit. Like being full of you, Robby."

Fuck, he needed to buy a ring tomorrow.

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

@heartsforts @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @thedroneranger @rae-gar-targaryen @abibliophobiaa @darkheartcherry @theharddeck @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @dissonannce @sonofarathorn @cherrycola27 @girl-in-the-chairs-void @callsignspark @mrsrobertfloyd @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @ouralcohol @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @princessphilly @babyonboardfloyd @avaleineandafryingpan

#my writing #Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #bob floyd imagine #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick smut

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sappy-seresin · 1 year

Text

Little Insomniac (J. Seresin)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x roommate!reader

Summary: You're dealing with an ongoing struggle to sleep, and Jake wants to help. Volume Two

Warnings: nothing really, just fluff.

Word Count: 3k

MY WORK IS ORIGNIAL AND IS NOT TO BE COPIED OR REPOSTED ELSEWHERE. Be kind and don't steal other people's writing, thank you.

Gif creds: @jakeseresins

Jake stirs awake before his alarm has the chance to go off. Yawning, he wipes the sleep from his eyes before groggily reaching for his phone to check the time. 5:45, it reads, though he has to squint to make sure because his eyes are still bleary from just waking up. He lets himself yawn one more time before moving to sit at the edge of his bed, a gentle grunt falls from his lips as he enjoys his first big stretch of the day, preparing his muscles for his usual morning run.

Knowing that he’ll have plenty of time to get ready once he’s back, he swaps his sweatpants out for a pair of running shorts and slips on a coordinating shirt. He turns toward his bedside table to grab his headphones, immediately sticking them into his ears and scrolling through his phone to find his playlist, “Run Like Hell.” His head gently bobs to the best of the music once he’d hit shuffle as he finishes getting ready by sliding his running shoes on.

He makes sure to walk quietly as he passes your room. You won’t be waking up for another hour, at least, and he’s not keen on giving you a wake up call sooner than you have planned. He accidentally woke you up one morning shortly after the two of you signed this lease and it resulted in a rather heated reprimand from a rather hungover, half asleep, version of you that came stumbling out of your room with a baseball bat thinking someone broke in. Since then, he’s intentionally light on his feet, careful not to cause another scene.

Jake smiles at the memory of your disheveled state. You were slightly tipsy from the night before with pillow lines on your face and an unruly bun knotted on top of your head as you incoherently scolded him for nearly giving you a heart attack. In that moment, all he could do was blink at you like a deer in the headlights, trying not to focus too much on the fact that all you were wearing was an oversized shirt that covered everything above your mid thighs, leaving your toned legs on full display.

His trip to memory lane is clouded with confusion when he notices light radiating through the hallway from the living room. He got home after you did last night and swore he shut the lamp off before retreating to his bedroom. His feet carry him toward the light, stopping in the tracks when he notices your form on the couch. You’re seated comfortably with your feet splayed on the coffee table balancing your laptop on your knees, wearing that same damn t-shirt.

“What’re you doing up? You never beat me,” he questions, pulling one earphone out and adjusting the volume on his phone so he can hear you. His presence had gone unnoticed by you, so the sudden question made you jump in, your head snapping toward him in shock.

“Jesus Jake,” your hand flies to your heart in an attempt to ease its rapid beating, a quiet “whew” falling from your lips as you compose yourself, tilting the screen of your laptop down so you can see him better. “Why do move so quiet? You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just surprised to see you awake so early. Like I said, you never beat me,” there’s an apologetic smile etched onto Jake’s soft features. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, his eyes never leaving you when he moves into the kitchen to grab a water bottle, promptly opening it and taking a swig. He stalks back to the living room, wordlessly offering you the water, which you gladly accept.

“Can you actually categorize it as beating you if I haven’t slept?” you ask after gulping the cool liquid down. You hand the bottle back to him, nuzzling deeper into your position on the couch when he moves to sit next to you, pulling his other earbud out so that you know you have his full attention.

He stares at you in confusion after processing what you said. Sure, your sleeping patterns have always been odd to him, but a night of not seeming at all raises several questions, “You didn’t sleep?”

“No,” you sigh, completely closing your computer and discarding it onto the coffee table in front of you.

“Why not? I thought you said that you're ahead at work and don't have to stress about extra planning?" He slings his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers barely brushing across the fabric of your t-shirt. He ignores the temptation to drop his hand from the coach so that it rests fully on your shoulder, knowing it's not the time to tease the butterflies awakening in his stomach at the faint smell of your perfume.

"I am," you affirm looking over at him, his close proximity has you feeling at ease with a hint of bashfulness. "It's not work. It's nothing like that really. I just-I don't know, I can spend the entire day exhausted but I'm wide awake as soon as my head hits a pillow."

Jake nods, pulling his attention away from you to ponder if there's anything he can do. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he returns his gaze to you, taking notice of the prominent bags under your eyes. Your exhaustion coats your features, coating you with a dreamlike state while you zone out on nothing. He bumps your shoulder gently, stealing your attention back. "Is there something bothering you?"

Your head shakes in response, an involuntary yawn falling from your parted lips. You pull your legs up to your chest, hooking your arms around them to hold them in place, and it takes everything in Jake's power to not focus on the fact that the movement made your oversized t-shirt rise up. He clears his throat, returning his thoughts back to the conversation rather than continuing to mentally admire your effortless beauty.

"Okay," he hums, "Well, can you at least take the day off to let yourself rest? I'm sure you'd crash if you got in bed now."

"I can't," you groan, running a hand over your face in frustration. "We have a major meeting today, and I'm running it because ninety-five percent of the team can't manage to do their jobs." There's a sympathetic look sent your way which only adds to the helplessness embedding itself in your entire being. All your impending schedule brings you is an unshakable dread due to how desperately sleep deprived you already feel.

"Okay," he repeats, standing from the couch. "Well, since you can't get out of it today, what do you say we go grab breakfast at that coffee shop you like downtown? My treat. It's not sleep, but it's the best I can do unless you're willing to let me call your boss and telling him to postpone the meeting."

You blink at him, a lazy smile twitching at the edge of your lips. "You know you don't have to do that right? I'm a big girl and can caffeinate myself."

"I know, but I want to. Besides, there's no way in hell I'm letting your sleep deprived ass drive yourself around town today. The last thing this town needs is a delirious Y/n Y/l/n operating a vehicle. Now, how about you go put some pants on so you don't catch a public indecency charge?" He's shooting you his signature 'Seresin smirk' now, which you can't refuse, so you take his outstretched hand and let him help you up.

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

A few days later, you're parked in that same position on the couch with your legs strewn over Jake's lap as the two of you watch the latest episode of 'The Rookie." There's been a comfortable silence in the room for awhile now, both of you fully engrossed in what's playing on the screen. Jake's fingers periodically draw circles against your clothed shins, a mindless habit of his that you've grown to love, while he makes a few side comments about Tim and Lucy's relationship Which you, being a lover of the slow burning couple, always agree with.

The episode comes to a close, leaving you both with anticipation for the shows continuation next week. Watching the Rookie became a weekly tradition when you became roommates after Jake came home from the bar one night, interrupting your peaceful binge watching. He made fun of the show at first, but forced you to restart it completely because he wanted to be completely caught up on everything it had to offer before deciphering whether or not he liked it. It took measly three episodes and he was hooked, which he denied by telling you he only watches it to bond with you. The way he lost himself in the screen, laughing and cracking jokes, was a tell-tale sign that he was hooked.

“It's late, I’m gonna head to bed,” Jake tells you after several unspoken moments, standing from his comfortable position and carefully repositioning your legs on the cushions. He stretches with a hefty yawn, running a hand over his face. You wordlessly watch him, enjoying the extra gravel to his voice that always comes when he's tired. “Want me to turn the lights off?”

“I'll get them. I think I’m going to be up awhile," you decline, straightening up to reach for the journal you left on the table before he came home.

“Still not sleeping?” He yawns again, watching as you get situated in a manner that tells him you are gearing for a long night.

You scoff, shaking your head in response to his question. One glance his way fills you in on the fact that he wants more of an explanation than that. "I've averaged maybe eight hours total this week, if you can count the baby naps my assistant lets me take during breaks. I swear I could run a marathon and still not be exhausted enough to encourage my body to rest."

“What about this? How about you let me take you to bed and we’ll try something new to help you sleep," he offers. Hope fills his green eyes momentarily before draining when you snort comically.

"Hangman, are you using my sleep deprivation as an excuse to get in my pants? I know I'm undeniably attractive, but that's a new level of low, even for Jake 'the heartbreaker' Seresin," you hadn't meant for the words to spill from your lips and regret them almost immediately. Yet, your raised eyebrows challenge him rather than showing any sign of lighthearted remorse.

“I’m going to blame your hostility on sleep deprivation instead of taking what you just said personally,” there’s a playful grin curved onto his cheeks as he peers down at the disdained expression you’re directing at him. “Now, come on grumpy, let’s get you some sleep,” You groan when he grabs your hands, shifting his weight so he can pull you off the couch. You fight against him, not wanting to let go of the comfortable position you’d fallen into. “Jesus, would you stop being a brat.” He can’t help but laugh as you continue making yourself dead weight to lessen his chances of dragging you off the couch. “Fine, two can play at this game.”

“What-JAKE,” an involuntarily squeal of surprise bubbles from your chest when he bends down, both his hands on your hips, and slings you over his shoulder effortlessly. He laughs as you smack against his back while he flicks the lights off, guiding the two of you toward your room.

“Put me down peasant,” you chant through your own fit of giggles. He simply shakes his head at your antics, carefully weaving through your bedroom before dropping you on top of your bed in a heap. Your giggles die down the longer you admire his lighthearted expression. You cough to try to keep yourself from ogling him like an idiot. It’s hard not to when he’s staring at you like you’re the creator of the jet planes he loves so much. “Couldn’t have given me a gentler landing?”

Jake rolls his eyes, feigning a scoff. “You asked me to put you down, and I put you down. Don’t go giving me a bad yelp review because you weren’t more specific, princess.” There’s a slight twinkle in his eye as the nickname flows off his tongue, smooth as silk. You mentally curse the involuntary heat rushing to your cheeks at the pet name, unable to suppress a bashful smile.

“Fair point,” you reply simply, fighting to keep yourself from spiraling at the sight of your roommate still towering over your splayed figure. He’d showered about an hour ago so his normally styled hair is laying against his forehead comfortably, the scent of his body wash ghosts your nostrils as he scratches the back of his neck, making it even harder not to swoon because he smells so good. “Are you going to tell me what your master plan to help me sleep is, or should I go ahead and preorder extra shots of espresso to keep me functioning tomorrow?”

Jake straightens up at the realization that he’d gotten sidetracked from his initial plan, a dubious grin plasters itself on his face as he moves to turn my bedroom light off, carefully making his way back to my bed in the dark.

“Jake, I hate to break it to you but simply putting me into bed isn’t going to help me sleep, if that’s all it took-what’re you doing?” Your question is left unanswered as he pulls the covers back on the side of the bed you’re not laying on, pausing to stare at you through the dark.

“I’m climbing in bed,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, fully situating himself under the covers. You stare at him like he’s got two heads, not understanding how his master plan to get you to sleep involves him fully being in bed with you. You’ve had daydreams about curling up in bed with him, falling asleep to the even rhythm of his heart beat, but those were simply fantasies about the man you have a complicated crush on because, well, he’s your roommate. Of course, the two of you are close enough that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on more than one occasion but it’s never been intention and those moments definitely haven’t occurred in a bed.

“You’re in my bed,” you observe, still frozen in place on top of the covers.

“Yes, Y/n, I’m in your bed. Now, would you stop being difficult? Get your ass up here and let me do my job,” his voice is gentle but holds a certain demand that has you obliging immediately. Climbing up next to him, you allow him to lift the covers so that you can slide under them. You leave a comfortable amount of space between the two of you, though it feels awkward with the heat radiating from his body. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What? You told me to climb in with you, so I climbed in with you?” An exasperated groan sounds from his side of the bed, earning an embarrassed blush from you, completely at a loss as to what you did wrong. “It’s not my fault that you’ve managed to leave out legitimately every detail of your master plan.”

In response, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist, immediately tugging you closer to him until you’re practically laying on top of him. “Get comfortable, sweetheart,” he murmurs simply, as if him holding you in your bed is a normal occurrence that shouldn’t have a fit of butterflies going rampant in your stomach. “Stop overthinking it and get situated.” His request comes after a few beats of you remaining frozen in the awkward position he pulled you into. You lift your head to meet his eyes, looking for affirmation that you’re hearing him right. When his hand trails over your face to brush your hair from your eyes, you suck in an audible breath, the gentle touch sending shivers down your spine as he leans his head close enough to yours that his breath fans against your face. “Let me hold you tonight."

"Okay," you breathe, carefully rolling onto your stomach. You shift yourself just enough to comfortably rest your head against his chest, fully allowing yourself relax into him as the faint sound of his heartbeat greets your ears. Jake's arms find a home around your waist again, a content sigh falling from his lips at the fact that you're fully nuzzled into him.

"Comfy?" His question is hopeful as he mindlessly draws comforting circles on your back, the simple movement paired with the comfort of his arms already causing your eyes to grow heavy.

"So comfy," you yawn, melting into him further. One of your hands fist his t-shirt while his find a spot in your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

"Good," he kisses the crown of your head, secretly feeling pleased by the way you're already fighting to keep your eyes open after seeming confident that he couldn't do anything to cure your insomnia. "Get some rest, sweetheart." You don't need his permission to sleep, but his words are the final thing you remember before slipping into a sweet slumber.

Jake knows you're out by the way your body grows a little heavier. Light snores fall from your lips every so often, warming his chest at the fact that you feel safe enough to let him assist you. While tiredness scratches the back of his eyes, he can't keep himself from observing your sleeping figure, a soft smile curves onto his lips at the adorable sight. As your roommate, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's dreamed of a moment like this from the second the two of you signed the lease for this place. Neither of you had been each others first choice in the roommate department, but after so long of roommates falling through, he proposed the idea and you accepted. You were friends back then, but weren't close enough for sharing an apartment to feel normal. Yet, when the time came to move in, your lives melted together seamlessly.

Jake's hand continues weaving through your hair, the act making him feel soft while you sleep soundly on his chest. He can't help but admire your peaceful features now that all signs of stress and exhaustion are erased from your face. You've always been attractive to Jake but right now, while you're snoring softly on his chest, he swears you're the most beautiful sight he's ever laid eyes on.

It's harder for him to continue fighting his own sleep the longer the peace of the night weighs on his eyelids so he carefully shifts the two of you into a more comfortable position. He holds his breath when you stir, but releases it when your head lulls back to place on his chest.

"Sweet dreams, pretty girl," he finds himself whispering, giving you one last glance before letting his eyes flutter shut. They snap back open when you mumble incoherently in your sleep, a sigh rolling from your parted lips.

"I love you Jake," the words are slightly slurred when they roll from your tongue, but Jake hears them clear as day. His eyes widen in surprise, never having heard you utter those words. He feels humbled by the unconscious confession, his heart swelling at the thought of the words holding an unshakeable truth.

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

A/n: Another Jake fic while I continue working on Fawn Volume 2! I'm hoping to have the second part of Fawn posted before the week ends, I'm just finding that I'm pressuring myself with it a little because I love the storyline in my head so much that I'm scared to mess it up :')

Part Two

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bradshawsbaby · 4 months

Text

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You're determined to make your first married Christmas the best one yet. But when you start to overextend yourself, Bob steps in to remind you what's most important.

Word Count: 10.6k

Author's Note: Whew! The relief I feel that I was able to get this story completed before Christmas Eve! This is my contribution to @lewmagoo's A Lew Magoo Christmas challenge! It was inspired by the Stevie Wonder song, "What Christmas Means To Me." I hope you all enjoy!

(Special shoutout and thanks to @luminousnotmatter and @ryebecca for listening to me ramble when I was having a total meltdown about writing this story. I'm very thankful for you both!)

Warnings: References to being stressed during the holidays and a few brief innuendos, but it's mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

From the time he was a young boy, Bob Floyd had been cognizant of one very fascinating phenomenon—his bed never felt so comfortable or so warm as when his alarm clock was blaring in his ear, giving him a rather forceful reminder that it was time to get up and start the day. After he met you, that troubling phenomenon seemed to increase tenfold. As responsible as he was and as much as he prided himself on getting to work early each day, Bob would be lying if he said there weren’t times when he felt like chucking his alarm clock across the room and playing sick just so he could stay tucked away in bed all day, cocooned under the blankets and wrapped around your sweet warmth.

This morning, as his alarm started roaring at 7:00 on the dot, Bob let out a small grunt of protest, blindly reaching out from beneath the comforter to pound a resentful fist on the top of his alarm clock. Once it was silent, he rolled over in the bed the two of you had been sharing as husband and wife for nearly six months now and reached an arm out, fully expecting to wrap it around your soft, pajama-clad body. When he was met with emptiness instead, Bob blinked his eyes open in confusion and sat up slowly, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his vision as he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and slipped them onto his nose, albeit a bit crookedly.

“Sweetheart?” Bob called out, frowning when he was met with nothing but the early morning stillness of your quaint little home.

Immediately, he flung the covers back and climbed out of bed, padding towards the bathroom to see if maybe you were in the shower and couldn’t hear him calling you over the sound of the running water. That theory was quickly disproven, however, when he found the bathroom door hanging open, lights off and no sounds of a shower in progress. But as he flicked on the lights, Bob discovered that you must have been in there not too long ago, for the mirror above the sink was still beaded with condensation and the bathmat had the imprint of damp footprints.

“Honey?” Bob called again, thinking maybe you’d stepped outside to enjoy your morning coffee on the front porch. Although why you’d be up this early—and showered already, too—on one of your days off from work was beyond him.

Walking into the kitchen, Bob immediately spotted a piece of festive note paper resting on the countertop. He recognized it instantly, the cream colored paper outlined with a ring of cheerful poinsettias. You’d been ecstatic when you’d found it at the dollar store a few weeks ago—"You never know when something like this will come in handy during the holidays, honey," were your exact words. But what stood out even more was your delicate handwriting etched across the paper in dark ink. Picking up the note, Bob adjusted his glasses and read the message you’d quickly penned on your way out the door.

Good morning, honey! I decided to head out early to try to hit some of the stores before they get too crazy. There’s a lot that I still need to pick up, so I’ll probably be gone most of the day. Also, Lorraine and I are going to run over to check out the venue for our staff holiday party and finalize the menu. Speaking of which, I also need to finalize the menu for OUR party, plus Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Text me if there’s anything you want me to get! Hopefully I won’t be home too late. I love you!!!

P.S. I almost forgot—I packed some lunch for you and left it in the fridge! And there’s a pot of coffee ready to brew. Have a great day!!!

He sighed softly as he set your note back down on the counter, running a hand through his honey brown hair, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he silently lamented your early departure. He could hear your voice in his head as he read your words, chuckling to himself as he pictured you quickly gulping down a cup of coffee—in your favorite Christmas mug, no doubt—and shoving a piece of half-burnt toast in your mouth before running out the door.

You absolutely lived for this time of year, and all the hecticness that the season entailed.

Bob had known, almost from the very start of your relationship, how much you adored Christmas. It was one of the things, in fact, that had made it so easy for him to fall in love with you. Seeing the way you lit up like a firefly when a Christmas song came on the radio or when your favorite coffee shop started offering peppermint-flavored drinks made Bob’s heart melt in absolute love and devotion. He had never known anyone as whimsical or as full of genuine Christmas spirit as you. And your joy was infectious—Bob had never loved the holiday season so much as he did once he started celebrating it with you.

Waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, Bob couldn’t help but grin as he glanced around the kitchen at all the decorations you’d been putting up since Thanksgiving. They gave your home a warm, cozy feeling that had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with the loving care with which you’d hung them.

To Bob, every day was Christmas so long as he got to spend it with you.

Which was why he sighed again as he poured a splash of cream into his coffee mug, brows furrowing above his glasses as he considered how little he’d seen you these past couple weeks.

With both of you working full-time jobs, it made sense that you couldn’t possibly spend every waking moment together. But Bob looked forward more than anything to your routine of dinner in the early evening and then hours spent lounging in each other’s arms, talking about your days or listening to music or watching a movie together. It was a habit you had gotten into even before you were married, and it was made all the sweeter by the fact that your lives were now entwined so intrinsically.

These past few weeks, however, that routine had been seriously upended by all the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Bob knew you took this time of year seriously—and he really did love how happy it made you—but it seemed like this year more than ever, your schedule was jam-packed and filled nearly to bursting.

On top of the usual shopping that needed to get done—you bought gifts for everyone, even down to your mail carrier and the barista who made your favorite coffee—there were preparations for not one, not two, but three separate parties you had volunteered to host. First up was your staff holiday party. Your colleagues knew that no one loved Christmas more than you, and so they had unanimously nominated you to spearhead the planning, which you’d graciously agreed to, with some help from your co-worker, Lorraine. Then was the party for the Daggers and their families that you had convinced Bob it would be fun to host a few days before Christmas Eve. All of your friends couldn’t stop buzzing about it, and you were going to great lengths to make sure it was perfect. As if all that wasn’t enough, you were also going to be hosting both of your families for the holidays this year, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, and all.

“It’s our first Christmas as Mr. and Mrs. Floyd,” you’d told him one night, when he’d asked if you were really okay with all of the planning that would be involved. “I want it to be special.” Your smile when you said it warmed him from the inside out. As introverted as he could be, he’d gladly host twenty parties so long as it made you happy.

The reality, however, was that you were swamped. Every day after work, you were either running around to stores or scouring the internet for the best cyber deals or researching recipes that you wanted to try for Christmas dinner. One night, Bob had even found you making an alphabetized list of holiday games you could play at the parties.

“Are you sure you’re really okay?” Bob asked at one point, when he caught you yawning over your dinner. “I know I’ve been busy with work, but I can help more. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’m fine, silly,” you giggled, waving off his concern with a hand. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

“They will,” he told you, resting his large, calloused hand over yours. He looked intently into your eyes, sincerity shining in the blue depths of his. “They’ll have a good time no matter what. You don’t have to make yourself sick over planning.”

You had just smiled at him and given him a kiss, but clearly you hadn’t heeded his words because now you were even using your day off to run errands, waking up even earlier than your naval aviator husband to do so.

Rinsing his empty mug out in the sink, Bob frowned as he thought of how tired you’d seemed these past few days. Your joy and your sweetness never diminished, but he could tell just from looking in your eyes how exhausted you were getting. You were overextending yourself, and he was terrified you were going to burn out before Christmas even arrived. Not being able to fully enjoy your favorite time of year would devastate you, and nothing would hurt Bob more than that.

You needed to take a day for yourself, Bob decided as he let the warm water flow over him in a quick shower. No shopping, no planning, no organizing—just a day where you actually got to enjoy all your favorite things about this season.

That idea remained buzzing around in his head as he drove to work, hanging on the periphery of his consciousness even as he spent hours flying test runs with Phoenix and the rest of the Daggers. On his lunch break, he enthusiastically hunkered down in the rec room to research some of the plans that were percolating in his mind. And by the time he drove home that evening, he was wearing a smile bright enough to rival any of the Christmas lights twinkling in your neighborhood.

The fact that you still weren’t home when Bob unlocked the front door and carefully placed his work boots on the shoe rack only further solidified his plan. As if you could somehow read his mind, his phone buzzed suddenly with an incoming text.

Are you home? I’m so sorry I’m not back yet! I’m on my way now. I picked up some dinner from that BBQ place that you like 😋

Bob’s heart squeezed with affection as he read your words. You’d been up for nearly twelve hours at this point, and you were no doubt exhausted, but you were still always putting others ahead of yourself. He typed out a quick response as he walked into the living room to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree.

Yum! Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for you to get home ♥️

About twenty minutes later, just as Bob was stepping out of your bedroom after changing into a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt from his time at the Naval Academy, he heard your key jiggling in the lock and hurried to meet you.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise when your husband swung open the door before you could finish turning your key. “Hiya, honey,” you beamed, holding up the bag of take-out food you’d picked up especially for him on your drive home.

“Man, I tell you, these delivery people keep getting cuter and cuter,” Bob teased, drawing you close and taking the food out of your hands as he dropped a kiss on your lips.

“Mmm,” you giggled against his mouth, kissing him back as you felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders slowly dissipate. “Maybe this delivery girl can join you for dinner tonight,” you winked playfully, smiling when you felt Bob’s fingers lace through yours.

“I was counting on it,” he chuckled, tugging on your hand as he turned into the house.

“Oh, just give me a couple minutes, honey,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering you’d left your car idling in the driveway, the backseat and trunk filled to the brim with your purchases of the day. “I just want to get everything out of the car.”

“Sweetheart, it can wait,” Bob insisted, glancing longingly between you and his dinner. “Your food’s going to get cold. I’ll help you unload the car after we eat.”

You bit your lip in hesitation, but finally relented when you saw the puppy dog expression on your husband’s face. “Okay, fine, let me just go turn the car off.”

A few minutes later, you and Bob were seated side by side at your small kitchen table, your legs pressing together and your fingers brushing against one another as you nibbled on wings and scarfed down some chili mac and cheese.

“How was your day?” you asked curiously, glancing up as you took a sip of water and wiped your fingers on a napkin.

You always asked that question so sincerely, even after all this time. It made him feel so seen and loved. Smiling, he rested his hand over yours and squeezed your fingers gently.

“It was good,” he said lightly, not yet ready to divulge the plans he’d been formulating all day. “You know, same old, same old. How about yours?”

“It was great!” you chirped, beaming brightly.

Bob smiled and nodded as you told him about the gifts you’d picked up for all the nieces and nephews, the menu you and Lorraine had decided on for your staff holiday party, the grab bags gifts you’d snagged for the Dagger party, the new gingerbread recipe you’d just heard about, and a whole host of other things.

“Sorry, I’m rambling,” you murmured sheepishly after you realized you’d hardly stopped for a moment to take a breath.

“It’s okay, I love it when you ramble,” Bob grinned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, I love it even more when you taste like barbeque,” he laughed, nudging your nose with his own.

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him tenderly. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his with a contented sigh and gazed into his eyes. “Want to go find a movie to watch while I do the dishes?” you suggested.

Bob pulled back slightly to more fully look at you, though he kept his large hands wrapped loosely around your waist. “As much as I love the sound of that plan, I think we should call it an early night tonight, honey,” he said softly, reaching up to lightly brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You look exhausted.”

You pouted slightly, but couldn’t stifle the yawn that suddenly came upon you, which made the both of you laugh. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted ruefully, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

“How about you get started on the dishes and I’ll unload everything from the car? Then we’ll head to bed, alright?” Bob asked, hyper aware of the drawn look around your eyes.

“Deal,” you nodded, giving him one more kiss as you jumped up to clear the table.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were cuddled up under the covers, the warm glow from the little battery-operated lantern you kept near the window casting a cozy feel over the room.

“Do you have any plans for Saturday?” Bob asked softly, running his fingers up and down your arm gently as you lay in his embrace. Saturday was the one day that the both of you had off, and he intended to make the most of it this weekend.

You let out a soft sigh, snuggling up further against his chest. “There are a few new recipes I wanted to try for dinner on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I figured maybe I should test them out ahead of time, just in case they end up being a disaster. Saturday seems as good a day as any to do that. Want to be my taste tester?” you grinned, eyes crinkling as you smiled over at him.

“Uh-uh,” Bob shook his head, a slightly mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him. “Why not? You’ve got other plans?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his blue eyes twinkling, which you could see even in the dark of your bedroom. “I’m going to have a very full day.”

“Doing what?” you huffed jokingly, arching an eyebrow as you rolled onto your side, gazing at him curiously.

“You’ll find out,” Bob grinned, not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback as your eyes widened once again. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss.

“Bob!” you exclaimed, nudging him lightly with your foot.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he grinned, rolling over and closing his eyes. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as he heard you huffing softly beside him, clearly desperate to know what he was planning. Within minutes, however, he heard the sound of your breathing soften and deepen, your eyes closing in a deep slumber.

Turning back over, Bob watched you sleep peacefully and felt his heart clench inside his chest. You were going above and beyond this Christmas, and it was clearly taking its toll, whether you wanted to admit it or not. He was glad to see you sleeping so comfortably after such a long day.

You were striving so hard to make this Christmas magical for everyone else. This weekend, Bob was going to make it magical for you and remind you what this season was really all about.

Nobody deserved it more than you.

Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp, just as Bob had been anticipating. He’d been checking the forecast every day to make sure that nothing was going to interfere with his plans for today. The weather was better than he could have hoped for—the sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, but the air had a nice winter chill as the temperature hovered somewhere between the high fifties and low sixties.

That was one of the only things you ever lamented about moving to San Diego—it was harder to make it feel like Christmas when it was still warm enough to wear shorts and go to the beach. But today’s weather, while certainly not cold by any stretch of the imagination, would at least give you an opportunity to wear one of those new sweaters you’d bought for yourself.

Grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning, Bob quietly tiptoed into your bedroom, where he was delighted to see that you were still fast asleep, buried so deeply under the covers that only the top of your head was poking out. Swallowing back a laugh, he sidled over to your side of the bed and carefully placed the treats he’d set out early to procure on your nightstand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of the bed to avoid crushing you. You stirred slightly, but didn’t open your eyes, so he bent down to drop a kiss on the crown of your head, still the only part of your body exposed to the mid-morning light. “Honey, wake up,” he tried again, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Letting out a soft hum in response, you slowly pushed the covers back and ran a hand down your face before opening your eyes halfway, peeking up at your husband through hooded lids.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bob chuckled, ducking his head to peck your lips tenderly.

“Mmm, good morning,” you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched with a satisfied little groan. You were so distracted by the extremely pleasant view of your handsome husband hovering above you that it took you a moment to realize how much light was filtering in through the windows, and to catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. Gasping, you bolted upright, looking at Bob with wide eyes. “Is that really the time? I thought I set an alarm!”

It was nearly 9:45am. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in that late. Between work and all the other things you were usually running around doing, even on your days off, your internal alarm hardly ever let you sleep that long. Not to mention the fact that you normally had an alarm set. You could have sworn you had set it last night.

Bob had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck, gazing at you with those big blue eyes behind the frames of his adorably gawky glasses. “You did,” he began slowly, glancing guiltily at your alarm clock and then back at you. “I shut it off.”

“Bob!” you exclaimed in astonishment, uncertain what would have possessed him to do that, especially when he knew how busy you were lately. “Why would you do that?”

“You needed the extra sleep, honey,” he said in a voice so sweet and filled with concern that you couldn’t even dream of staying mad at him. Reaching out, he took one of your hands between both of his, gently rolling the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ve been running yourself ragged these past couple weeks. I wanted you to get some real rest.”

You bit your lip, averting your gaze as you silently thought about how busy you’d been lately and how exhausted you’d been feeling. You’d had three cups of coffee at work yesterday just to make it through the day.

“I guess you’re right,” you conceded, your lips curving upward in a rueful smile. “I do feel a little bit better already. Thank you, honey,” you told him, leaning forward to give him a kiss of appreciation. That was when your eyes landed on the cup of coffee and the small red-and-white striped bag on your nightstand. “Is that for me?” you gasped in delight, looking back at your husband eagerly.

“Mhm,” Bob chuckled at your open excitement, reaching for the cup and the bag and placing them in your hands.

Your very favorite coffee shop in all of San Diego, which also happened to be the spot where you and Bob went on your second date, was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall place not far from where you worked. From the outside, it didn’t seem like much to behold, but it was one of the city’s best kept secrets. Their coffee was brewed to perfection and their baked goods were a sweettooth’s dream. But what you loved most of all was the way they went all out for the holidays. The entire cafe was decked out in garland and bows and twinkling lights, Christmas music pumped through the speakers all day long, and their menu reflected everyone’s seasonal favorites.

At this time of year, your go-to order was a large peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream and a gingerbread scone that you swore you wanted to be your last meal on this earth. Bob had gotten to the cafe just in time that morning to get a scone fresh out of the oven.

“Oh my gosh, it’s still warm,” you sighed happily, the spiced molasses melting on your tongue as soon as you popped it into your mouth. You closed your eyes in bliss, washing it down with a sip of the peppermint mocha. “Thank you, honey. This is such a sweet surprise.”

“The first of many, I hope,” Bob smiled, resting a hand on your thigh as you enjoyed your breakfast in bed. “I have lots planned for you today, Mrs. Floyd.”

“You do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of your coffee cup.

He nodded, his smile only growing wider. “Don’t you remember what I said the other night? We’ve got a lot to do today. So as soon as you’re done enjoying your breakfast, you better hop in the shower. We don’t want to be late,” he told you, his gorgeous baby blues sparkling as he rose from the bed and started towards the door.

“Wait!” you cried, jumping out of bed with your coffee and scone still firmly in hand. “What are we doing?” you called after him, chasing behind him in bare feet. “Bobby!”

“You’ll find out,” he laughed, turning around and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Just wear something comfortable,” was all the information he gave you.

You sighed in a purposely dramatic fashion, shooting him a playful glance. You knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to tell you anything else, so there was no use in trying to get the information out of him. Instead, you quickly gulped down the rest of your coffee and finished off your scone—still trying to savor every bite—before tearing off your pajamas and jumping into the shower.

An hour later, you were ready to go, dressed in a cute pair of jeans and a new red and white sweater you’d just recently purchased. The weather today finally gave you an opportunity to wear it.

“Is this alright?” you asked Bob as you stepped into the living room, holding your arms out at your sides. It was hard to know what to wear when you had no idea what you were doing.

“It’s perfect,” Bob nodded, smiling as he rose from the couch and took in your appearance. “Just like you,” he added, winking as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you giggled, resting your hands on his broad chest. He was wearing a dark green crew neck sweater and dark jeans that fit his long figure exquisitely. “Now are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Bob just shook his head, laughing out loud when you released a groan of exasperation. “Patience, my sweet wife,” he teased, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the front door. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You really hadn’t been sure what to anticipate when you climbed into the car with Bob. As many guesses as you tried to make to figure out what his plans were, your husband’s expression was impenetrable. He didn’t give anything away, no matter what you said.

What you hadn’t been expecting was to pull into the parking lot of Petco Park.

As soon as Bob put the car in park, you glanced over at him curiously, trying to figure out what you were doing here. Your husband wasn’t a big baseball fan. And even if he was, it was the middle of December.

“I’m guessing we’re not here for a Padres game?” you ventured with a playful smile, glancing around the crowded parking lot.

Your husband laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly. Come on,” he told you, climbing out of the car and hurrying around to the passenger side to open your door.

Slipping your hand into his, you followed his lead as he guided you through the milling crowd towards the entrance to the baseball stadium. He seemed almost giddy as the two of you got closer and closer to the park, glancing down at you every few seconds as if to check that you were still with him. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but his excitement was infectious and you found yourself buzzing with anticipation.

You weren’t disappointed.

As soon as Bob handed over your tickets to the attendant, you were swept up in the crowd of people surging towards Gallagher Square, where you were met with a breathtaking display of Christmas beauty.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, coming to a halt as you stared, wide-eyed and in awe of the beautiful market that surrounded you.

“Do you like it?” Bob asked, a thread of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you, watching the way you were silently taking everything in.

Turning to face him, your face split into a huge grin and you threw your arms around him, peppering his cheek with kisses. “I love it! It’s so wonderful!”

It was as close to a German Christmas market as you had ever come, with vendors of all kinds set up in little wooden booths ringing the perimeter of the square. There were shopkeepers selling a whole assortment of things, from hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies to homemade candy to personalized ornaments to fine wine and jewelry. Amidst all the different stalls were small stages where performances ranging from choirs to magic shows were taking place, not to mention the life-size snow globes and the giant sleigh where guests could take pictures. And at the center of it all was a ginormous Christmas tree that had to be at least thirty feet tall.

It was magical. It made you feel like you were a little girl again, attending your town’s local Christmas fair with your family.

“I didn’t even know this existed!” you exclaimed, still holding tightly to your husband as you continued to gaze around you.

“I didn’t either,” Bob admitted, unable to stop smiling at how happy you looked. “But Phoenix and Hangman told me they took the kids here last week and had a blast, so I knew I had to get you tickets.”

“Oh, thank you, honey! This is amazing!” you beamed, wrapping your arms around him to give him an enthusiastic kiss.

Bob chuckled and blushed slightly as he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his other hand resting on your hip. “Should we walk around?”

Nodding, you took his hand and practically hauled him across the square, bouncing from stall to stall and oohing and aahing over all the various trinkets and baubles.

“Oh, honey, look! We should get this,” you cooed, holding up a sweet ornament of a hand painted Christmas tree with a little banner draped across it that read Our First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.

It didn’t matter that you had three other ornaments with similar messages already hanging on your Christmas tree at home. Bob gladly pulled out his wallet to buy it for you, his heart fluttering at the gorgeous smile that lit up your entire face when the vendor carefully wrapped it up and handed it to you.

“Thank you, Bobby. I can’t wait to put it on the tree when we get home,” you told him, carefully slipping the wrapped ornament into your purse.

“Anything for you, honey,” Bob murmured softly, kissing your forehead. “Alright, what’s our next stop?”

You and Bob continued to wander among the stalls for the next couple hours, stopping on occasion to take a photo or grab a snack—"This is sustenance," you grinned, holding up the little brown bag of freshly glazed almonds that you’d purchased for the two of you to munch on.

At one point, as you were admiring the work of a local artist, you heard the sound of the sweetest voices imaginable. Following the music, with Bob trailing closely behind, you walked a bit further up the path before stopping in front of a small choir made up of the most angelic looking children you had ever seen. The sign in front of the platform declared that they were students from a local school for children with special needs.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, tears sparkling on your lashes as they sang the most beautiful version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” you had ever heard. Resting your head on your husband’s shoulder, you let the music wash over you, smiling brightly as they transitioned from one song to another.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there exactly—was it for three songs or six?—but when the children finally stopped singing, you and Bob burst into thunderous applause, prompting nearby onlookers to join in.

The pride on the children’s faces melted your heart as they shyly waved to the crowd and began making their way off the platform.

A little girl with Down syndrome, who couldn’t have been older than six or seven, suddenly broke away from the others and grabbed her mother’s hand, dragging her towards where you and your husband stood.

“Thank you for coming!” she said brightly, offering an adorable little gap-tooth smile.

“Thank you for having us!” you replied brightly, squatting down so that you were on eye level with her. “You all sounded amazing!”

To your surprise, the little girl lunged forward to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” her mother exclaimed, touching her daughter’s shoulder and trying to pull her back.

“It’s alright,” you smiled, patting the little girl’s back before she let go. “No need to apologize.”

“Thank you for staying to listen for so long,” the woman said, looking between you and Bob. “The kids worked really hard on their program for today, so it was nice to have such a captive audience.”

“We were happy to do it, really,” Bob told her, smiling down at the little girl as he rested a hand on your lower back. “Christmas music is my wife’s favorite,” he told her conspiratorially.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Mine, too!”

You all laughed happily at that.

“Well, I hope you have an amazing Christmas and that Santa brings you everything you’re hoping for this year,” you told her, grinning at the way she lit up at the mention of Santa.

“Santa! Santa!” she cheered.

“That’s right,” her mother nodded, brushing her daughter’s hair back over her shoulder. “We should get going soon if we want to go see Santa. What do you say to the nice people who watched you sing?”

“Thank you!” the little girl said sweetly, giving both you and Bob another quick hug around the legs. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” you and Bob replied in unison, waving to both mother and daughter as you went your separate ways, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother one day,” Bob told you softly, the unadulterated adoration in his eyes warming you up from the inside out.

You just smiled dreamily in response, very much looking forward to the day when you would get to see Bob Floyd become a father.

“Well I think that was a very successful trip to the Christmas Market,” your husband said a few minutes later after you circled back to the center of the square.

“I had so much fun, honey. Thank you for thinking of this,” you told him, touched by the effort he’d made to bring you here and make it such a lovely afternoon.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He glanced down at his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but we better get going if we want to stay on schedule. Still have a lot to do.”

“Wait…what?” you questioned, startled. “There’s more?”

“I said I had a lot planned, didn’t I?” That mischievous twinkle had returned to his eyes. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

“Bob Floyd, what do you have up your sleeve?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up at him with a quirked brow, trying and failing to mask the smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the car.

If you had been uncertain about what your husband’s plans were when you’d arrived at Petco Park, you were doubly unsure what he had in mind when he turned onto the bridge connecting San Diego to Coronado.

“Are you taking me with you to work?” you wondered with a laugh, looking out the window at the afternoon sun sparkling on the San Diego Bay. You often told Bob that you were jealous of the view he got to enjoy on his commute to and from North Island.

Bob laughed at your question, but simply shook his head in response, turning up the radio as Mariah Carey began belting “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

“Hmmm, saved by the Queen of Christmas,” you joked, nudging him playfully as he took a turn off the bridge.

“Now, honey, you know that you’re the Queen of Christmas,” Bob retorted, winking at you as he made a few more turns.

“True,” you giggled, singing along to the radio until Hotel Coronado appeared in your sights, in all its glorious grandeur. You glanced over at Bob curiously, but he didn’t say anything as he searched for a parking spot.

“The suspense is killing me, Bobby,” you lamented, clinging onto his arm once he finally did manage to park the car. “What are we doing now?”

Turning to face you, Bob was struck once again by just how deeply he loved you. There was no one else he’d drag himself all over San Diego for on his day off from work.

“We’re going ice skating,” he explained, chuckling at the shocked expression on your face.

“You mean…Skating by the Sea?!” you gasped excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in your seat. “Bobby, you got tickets?”

“Sure did,” he nodded, pulling them out of his pocket to show you.

“Oh my gosh, how?” you breathed, reaching out to touch them as if you were afraid they would disappear.

“Mav knows a guy,” Bob chuckled, shaking his head affectionately as he thought of his boss and mentor.

As Hotel Coronado’s most popular winter attraction, it was nearly impossible to get tickets to Skating by the Sea during the Christmas season, but when Bob had mentioned it at work, Maverick had promised that he would be able to procure him a couple tickets. How he managed it, Bob didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. All that mattered was that you were looking at him right now like he had hung the moon and the stars, and there was no better reward than that.

“Ready to go?” Bob asked, holding out his hand to you.

“Ready!” you cheered, placing your hand in his and holding on tight.

It had been quite some time since you had actually been ice skating, and you were a bit rusty, especially in comparison to your midwestern husband, who had grown up ice skating on frozen ponds every winter. Still, despite your wobbly knees, you were determined to enjoy every moment of this experience.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Bob murmured encouragingly, holding tightly to your hands as he guided you onto the ice, sticking close to the wall in case you needed extra support.

“If you had told me we were coming, I could have brushed up on my skills ahead of time,” you teased, glancing down at your white rental skates as you carefully slid one foot in front of the other.

“And ruin the surprise and the look on your face when I told you what we were doing? Never,” he grinned, gently squeezing your hands as you slowly started to become more confident and steady on your feet. “You’ve got it, honey. Try looking up at me. I won’t let go,” he promised.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from your feet up to your husband’s midsection, and then finally up to his face, that face that you adored more than anything else on this earth.

“There you go, you’ve got it. You’re doing such a good job,” Bob praised you, his confidence unshaken as he moved backwards across the ice. It was incredibly attractive how sure of himself he was out here.

“I think I’ve got it now. Want to try letting go?” you asked with a grin, feeling a little nervous but willing to give it a shot.

Smiling proudly, Bob nodded and slowly released his grip on your hands, letting you glide independently for a few seconds. You moved forward tentatively, your hands still out at your sides so that you could grab onto him—or the wall—if needed.

“That’s it, honey! Look at you go!” your husband cheered, making you laugh as you carefully made your way over to the opposite wall, which afforded you breathtaking views of the beach and the ocean beyond.

Seconds later, Bob skated up beside you, resting with you against the wall and enjoying the same view. “Pretty beautiful, huh?” he asked, gazing down at you.

“Insanely beautiful,” you agreed, resting your hand over his and squeezing gently. “I’m so glad we’re here.”

“Me, too,” Bob nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “But it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I’m just so glad to be with you.”

“Honey,” you breathed out, touched by the sweetness of his words. They actually made you well up a little bit.

“I mean it, sweetheart. It’s not the things we do that make days like this special. It’s getting to do them with you. That’s all I really wanted. I’ve missed you these past few weeks,” he confessed.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, just holding you close and resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you so much, you know,” you told him, lifting your head to press a kiss to his jaw.

“I know,” he nodded, his mouth turning up in a tender smile. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

After a couple moments of comfortable silence, you took his hand and started to push away from the wall. “Come on, let’s go show everybody what an amazing skater you are,” you laughed, nearly toppling over in your eagerness. Thankfully, Bob had some of the quickest reflexes you’d ever seen and was there to catch you.

He was always there to catch you.

You and your husband spent the next hour twirling around on the ice, you trying your best not to fall and Bob trying his best to keep you from falling. By the time your legs were starting to ache in protest, the sun was just beginning to set over the beach, the sky exploding in hues of orange, pink, and red.

“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” you whispered in awe, resting your cheek against your husband’s strong chest and soaking in the moment.

“A close second to you,” Bob replied, chuckling at the adorable way you got all flustered at his compliment. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get those skates off you.”

Stepping off the rink, Bob carefully guided you to a nearby bench and sat you down before squatting in front of you to untie your laces.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” you asked softly, reaching out to lightly caress his flushed cheek as he ministered to you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day when I get to wake up beside you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your knee before pulling your skates off. He then rose and plopped down beside you on the bench, pulling off his own skates with ease.

After you returned your rental skates and collected your things, Bob stopped you on the pathway near the beach and looked down at you.

“I hope you’ve worked up an appetite after all this,” he told you, a knowing smile on his face. “Because we’ve got one more stop.”

“We do? Oh, Bobby! This day has already been so special. I can’t imagine how it could get any better,” you declared, wondering what more he could possibly have in store.

“Wait and see,” Bob winked, taking your hand as you began strolling off hotel property and towards where you had parked “Oh, and I’ve got a little something in the car for you to change into.”

The last thing on earth you had been expecting when your husband handed you a small duffel bag out of the trunk of the car was to open it up and find the beautiful red dress you’d worn last Christmas—the one Bob hadn’t been able to stop gushing about or get you out of fast enough after Christmas dinner—and your favorite pair of high heels, plus the diamond studs and pendant he’d gifted you last year, the ones you only wore on very special occasions.

And yet, there you were, sitting beside your husband in the passenger seat of his car in your holiday finest, flying along the open road towards some unknown destination.

You weren’t the only one who had changed after your ice skating escapades. Bob had packed a second duffel, it seemed, for when you had returned from getting changed, he was waiting for you, no longer clad in his crew neck and jeans, but in a pair of black slacks and a dinner jacket, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

“For you,” he said with a wide smile, handing you a small bouquet of red and white roses—another surprise he’d been hiding in that trunk of his.

You held the sweet-smelling flowers close to your nose now as Bob made a few turns, heading in a direction that was not totally familiar to you.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered softly, a hint of emotion catching in your voice as you rested the beautiful bouquet in your lap. You couldn’t wait to put it in one of your Christmas vases when you got home and proudly display it on the coffee table in the living room.

Bob glanced over at you as he came to a red light, his blue eyes brimming with adoration as he soaked in how happy and content you looked. “You deserve it,” he told you, reaching out to rest a hand on your thigh, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of your knee. “You deserve all this and so much more. And I’m so lucky to be the man who gets to give it to you—or try anyway,” he added with a sheepish laugh.

Before the light could turn green, you leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. “You succeed,” you murmured against his lips. “Every time. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I love you,” he smiled, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb before returning both hands to the wheel, ignoring the disgruntled driver who was honking behind him.

You giggled as you settled back in your seat with a happy sigh. “I love you, too, honey.” You paused for a moment or two, then tacked on, “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nice try,” Bob laughed, shooting you a sideways glance. “I haven’t spoiled any of my surprises today. You think I’m going to start now?”

“Oh, fine,” you replied, heaving a dramatic sigh and then grinning. “I can’t wait to find out what it is though.”

“I have a feeling you’re really going to love it,” he said, his smile warmer than the San Diego sun as he tapped his hands excitedly on the steering wheel, his own anticipation building.

“I know I will,” you nodded, lifting the bouquet of roses to your nose once more and taking a delicate sniff. “I love anything so long as I’m doing it with you.”

A few minutes later, Bob made a final turn that led the two of you up a winding, gorgeously manicured road. Leaning forward, you gazed out the window eagerly, trying to place exactly where you were. At that exact moment, a large sign came into view that read FAIRMONT GRAND DEL MAR.

Gasping in delight, you practically had your nose smushed against the glass as your husband drove past stunning gardens and twinkling fountains, all decked out with the most darling, demure decorations you had ever seen.

Fairmont Grand Del Mar was one of the most luxurious and glamorous hotels in all of Southern California, and while it was basically right in your own backyard, you had never stepped foot on its grounds before.

You suddenly found yourself very grateful that your jeans and sweater were safely tucked away in a duffel bag. Thank goodness your brilliant husband thought of everything.

“Oh my goodness, Bobby!” you squealed, covering your mouth to try to control the delighted laughter that was bubbling up inside you. But it was no use. “It’s so beautiful here!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bob hummed in agreement, taking in the view as he slowed his pace along the property’s winding pathways. “A beautiful girl in a beautiful place. Sounds about right to me,” he added, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

You just smiled at that, a pleasant warmth rushing to your cheeks as you tried to take in as much of the views as you could. As if the hotel grounds weren’t breathtaking enough on their own, they’d clearly gone to great lengths to turn the property into a winter wonderland for the holidays and they had more than succeeded. You loved every inch of it.

Moments later, after Bob had helped you out of the car and handed his keys off to a valet parker, he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you into the lobby of what seemed to be one of the hotel’s restaurants. It was elegantly designed, with Persian rugs and cream-colored marble walls, scrolled detailing on the ceiling, and a roaring fireplace to give the room a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It was decorated for the season with class—golden candelabras, dark red poinsettias, aromatic garland wrapped in red ribbons and bows, giant wreaths practically the size of you hanging on the walls.

It felt like a little Christmas paradise.

You were thankful for Bob’s strong hand on your back, guiding you along as you tripped over your own two feet, gazing around the room in unabashed awe.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he whispered in your ear as you approached the host stand. “I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures of you in that gorgeous dress with this perfect Christmas backdrop,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I want you in the pictures, too,” you whispered back, grinning as you squeezed his hand where it was resting on your hip. “Too bad we didn’t think to come here for our Christmas card photo,” you added, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Next year,” Bob winked. He managed to tear his gaze away from you only when the two of you finally got to the stand and the hostess looked at you expectantly.

“Good evening,” she said in a voice that was calm, cool, and cultured. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

“Yes,” Bob told her, squeezing your hip softly as he spoke. “Dinner for two. It should be under Floyd.”

The hostess checked her computer screen and smiled. “Ah, yes. We’re pleased to welcome you tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. Please, follow me,” she said, leading you through a small maze of elegantly set tables, bedecked with what appeared to be antique tablecloths, romantic candles, and subtle hints of holly and garland.

The three of you finally came to a stop at a cozy table right near a window which overlooked the gardens, a twinkling Christmas tree right in your line of vision.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess told you as the two of you got settled in your seats. “We hope you very much enjoy our special Christmas menu here at Fairmont Grand Del Mar,” she added with a gracious smile before turning to head back to her post.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a soft smile, maintaining every ounce of decorum you could possibly muster until the woman was out of earshot. Then you let out a delighted squeal, the same sound you used to make when opening your presents on Christmas morning as a little girl. “Bobby! This is incredible! How did you manage this?” you demanded, gaping at him in amazement. Then you giggled. “Wait, let me guess. Mav knows another guy?”

“Actually this time, it was Payback who knew a guy,” Bob laughed, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your soft skin. “His cousin works concierge at the hotel, so he managed to pull a few strings.”

“Amazing,” you grinned, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Don’t let me forget to thank Mav and Reuben when I see them at the party.”

“Just Mav and Reuben?” he teased, pretending to be wounded.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as you told him, “Well I’m going to give you a proper thank you tonight.” Your eyes sparkled in tandem with the diamond pendant hanging around your neck.

Bob’s cheeks turned bright pink as he caught your meaning, and he reached up to tug lightly at the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat.

Winking, you leaned back with a smile. Your husband was saved from having to come up with a reply by the sudden appearance of your waiter, an older, dignified man named Antonio, who greeted you both warmly as he shared some drink recommendations.

Despite the fact that Bob hardly ever drank, he ordered the two of you a bottle of champagne that came highly recommended, which Antonio happily delivered along with a bucket of ice.

“To you, sweetheart,” Bob toasted, lifting the flute that your waiter had filled just a moment earlier. “This time of year wouldn’t be half as special if it wasn’t for you.”

“No, to you,” you smiled, raising your own champagne flute to mirror your husband’s. “Today was beyond words, and none of it would have been possible without you.”

“To us then,” he grinned, compromising as he tipped his glass towards you.

“To us,” you nodded in agreement, lightly clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious,” you murmured appreciatively, licking a drop of the champagne off your lip.

“Mhm,” Bob hummed, looking almost surprised. “I mean, not that I have much to compare to, but I’d say this is the best champagne I’ve ever had.”

“Better than at our wedding?” you joked.

“I stand corrected. This is the second best champagne I’ve ever had,” he chuckled.

You and Bob relaxed into smooth and easy conversation. Both your mothers would have scolded you for resting your elbows on the table, especially in such a fancy restaurant, but neither of you cared as you leaned in closer to one another, whispering over the candlelight as the twinkling lights outside the window illuminated your lovestruck faces. Faintly, in the distance, you could hear the soft sounds of classic Christmas tunes being played on a piano. It was the most perfect evening you could have imagined.

The food was some of the best you’d ever tasted. After much debate, you finally settled on the filet mignon with a bearnaise sauce, roasted vegetables, and what had to be the world’s creamiest mashed potatoes, while Bob selected the pork medallions with roasted garlic fingerling potatoes and a brussel sprout salad. Although really it was hard to say who had ordered what considering the way you kept picking food off each other’s plates.

By the time the sour-cherry cheesecake trifle that the two of you had ordered for the grand finale came out, you felt like you were going to burst right out of your pretty red dress. But like you always said, there was always room for dessert.

“You want to know the craziest thing?” you asked, looking up at Bob as you set your fork down on the plate resting between you and your husband. When he nodded at you, you went on, “I just realized that I didn’t think about any of my holiday planning at all today—the shopping, my work party, the parties we’re hosting, none of it. It didn’t cross my mind at all even though it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks. Isn’t that funny?”

Bob set his fork down as well and gazed at you from across the table, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Good,” he said, reaching out to take your hand in his once more, gently playing with your wedding band. “That was my mission, and it sounds like it was a success. I wanted today to be a day where you just got to have fun and enjoy this time of year. I know how much it means to you, and I also know that it’ll be over in the blink of an eye, so we have to make the most of it while we can.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt the corners of your eyes pricking with happy tears. Your husband was truly the most thoughtful, selfless, caring man you had ever known. You would never know what you had ever done to get so lucky as to find him.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, mimicking his actions and lightly rolling his wedding band underneath your finger as you reached for his other hand. You were quiet for a moment, then thought of his words from earlier, the words that had been niggling the back of your mind on and off since you’d left the ice skating rink. “What you said before,” you began slowly, chewing on your bottom lip, “about missing me these past few weeks. Have I really been that busy? I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Bob gasped, squeezing your hands tightly in his own. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. I’ve just been worried about you, that’s all. You’re always so happy this time of year, and I know how much it means to you, so I hate to see you running yourself ragged like you have been. I guess I was starting to be afraid that you were going to burn yourself out before Christmas even got here.”

Your heart constricted at the genuine concern in his voice, at the way he was always looking out for you, even when you weren’t paying careful enough attention.

“And I have missed you,” he added softly, lifting one of your hands to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you, too, honey,” you whispered, your throat clogging with emotion as you thought of the many nights you’d come home later than usual after running to the stores after work, too tired to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with your husband or just get to enjoy his company. “And you’re right—I have been running myself ragged. I can feel it. I’ve been so tired, and I feel like I don’t even have the time to enjoy all my favorite traditions.” You sighed softly, shaking your head. “I just—I just wanted everything to be perfect this year, you know?”

“It always is perfect,” Bob murmured encouragingly, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his calloused fingertips, his movements slow and soothing.

“I know, but with it being our first married Christmas, I guess I just wanted it to be really perfect. I got it into my head that we needed to start all these new traditions and that I had to keep on top of everything at all times to make sure that it happened, but now I’m realizing that in the process of all that, I lost sight of what’s most important about celebrating our first Christmas as husband and wife—you,” you admitted, reaching up to lovingly cup his cheek in your hand.

He smiled softly at your words, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Sweetheart, the good news is that we have a whole lifetime of making traditions together. So long as it’s you and me, then that’s all I need,” he promised you.

You nodded, a couple stray tears spilling down your cheeks, which you wiped away with a sheepish little laugh. “You’re right. Today was a pretty good start to some Floyd Christmas traditions, I think,” you told him with a grin.

Bob reached out to thumb away the tears sparkling like diamonds on your skin. “I agree,” he smiled. “But the truth is, I don’t care what we’re doing. We could go ice skating on the beach or watch a movie on the couch. We could have a five-star dinner at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar or eat take-out on the kitchen floor.” He glanced around for a moment, just to check if anyone had heard him, his blue eyes laughing as he turned back to you. “I just want to do it with you. That’s what Christmas really means to me, sweetheart. All the other stuff, that’s icing on the cake.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, leaning across the table and capturing his mouth with your own, the taste of sour cherries and champagne still clinging to his lips.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he cradled the back of your head and kissed you back until you were both sitting breathless in your chairs.

“You’re the love of my life,” he told you. “No matter how many traditions come and go, that’s one thing that will never change.”

As soon as you and Bob got home that night, exhausted in the best way after a perfect day together, you both ran to change into the Christmas pajamas you’d worn last Christmas Eve, then curled up on the couch with steaming mugs of hot cocoa to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Tired?” Bob asked softly as the Peanuts crew sang “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” while the credits rolled.

“Mmm, a little,” you nodded, lifting your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder.

“Ready to head to bed?” he yawned, pushing the blanket back and rising from the couch before turning to hold his hands out to you.

“Mhm,” you murmured, slipping your hands into your husband’s and allowing him to pull you to your feet. “But not to go to sleep just yet,” you added pointedly.

At your husband’s raised brows, you giggled softly.

“I still have to properly thank you for today,” you reminded him with a playful wink.

You had never seen him move so fast.

That Christmas turned out to be one of the best you’d ever celebrated. Your work party went off without a hitch, the Daggers were already talking about how they needed to make a party at the Floyds’ an annual Christmas tradition, and your families loved getting to spend the holidays together as one huge unit. Every gift you’d purchased was well received and every meal you cooked was touted as the best anyone had ever eaten.

But that wasn’t what made it so special.

As you had been reminded this year, Christmas was about so much more than the planning and the presents and the parties. Those things were nice, sure, but they weren’t what made this time of year so magical.

What made this Christmas so perfect was the handsome man with blue eyes and a wide smile waiting for you beneath the mistletoe.

He was the only gift you needed, today and every day for the rest of your life.

#a lew magoo christmas #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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percervall · 4 months

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what a memorable N.Y.E

Pairing: George Russell x fem!reader x Fernando Alonso Words: 2017 Warnings: oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, degradation kink, p in v, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight cuckolding (if you squint), multiple orgasms, squirting, no beta -we die like my hope in ferrari A/N: @monzabee, the fic that started in your DMs, hope it lives up to your expectations!

In which you start the new year with a bang

---

You have no idea how you ended up back in your hotel room, nor do you know when Fernando ended up there too. It’s not his room, you don’t think but the champagne has made it difficult to keep things straight. Then again, by this point it has become a tradition for the three of you to spend New Year’s together so you’re not surprised to find yourself very much naked, spread out in the middle of the bed on top of the waterproof blanket he had brought with your boyfriend buried between your thighs, feasting on your cunt like a man starved. George has made you cum twice already –always so generous, your boyfriend– and he is rapidly hurtling you into a third until Fernando pulls George’s face away from you, leaving you whining and whimpering.

“Nando,” you whine, “I thought you wanted to see me ruined?” The Spaniard grins at you, and it’s filthy and filled with a promise that has your stomach in knots.

“This is why I said to George, your pretty girlfriend is the sluttiest girl in this club. Such a slut for cock, aren’t you hermosa?”

“Why don’t you come here so I can show you?” you tease, sounding a lot braver than you feel. His words leave you hot all over and you can’t help but clench your thighs together, much to Fernando’s amusement. George watches this back and forth intently, his cock already straining against his trousers.

“You’re not desperate enough for my cock, but let’s see what that mouth can do,” Fernando says before instructing George to strip and get on the bed.

“Georgie here has been so good to you, why don’t you show him just how grateful you are, hermosa?”

You eagerly crawl between your boyfriend’s thighs, wiggling your ass a little more than strictly necessary, showing off the plug George had gifted you in preparation for today, as you get comfortable. Fernando hums appreciatively as the emerald embedded in the gold base catches the light. Leaning forward, you arch your back while taking George’s dick in your hand, stroking him before darting your tongue out to lap at a bead of precum. George hisses at the feeling of your tongue licking the slit. You wrap your lips around his tip and keep stroking him. George grips the sheets to stop himself from bucking up into you.

You moan around his cock as Fernando slaps your ass.

“I said, show some appreciation, not tease him. Suck his cock like the good little slut you are,” he whispers in your ear, leaning over you. His words have you clenching around nothing and you’re quick to oblige. You know you better listen to the Spaniard and for once just do as you’re told; something tells you that Fernando wouldn’t hesitate to punish you if you don’t.

You slowly take more of George's cock in your mouth, flattening your tongue against the underside as you do. Fernando hums approvingly, moving to press kisses against your neck and shoulder, and you would do anything to hear him make that noise again.

George moans at the feeling of your wet mouth enveloping more and more of his cock. "Knew you could do as you're told," Fernando murmurs, his still clothed erection pressed up against the plug. It's impossible not to grind against him as you bob your head, taking George a little deeper each time. "Ah, ah ah," Fernando tuts, fingers digging into your hips to keep you still, "make him cum first, and then I might give you what you want." And with that, he moves away, biting the curve of your ass to serve as a reminder of what’s to come.

Trying to time your breathing, you take George as deep as you can, gagging a little as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. "Fuck," he hisses, one hand now buried in your hair. The sharp sting of him pulling on it has you moaning around him once more.

"That's it, such a good girl for us, letting George use your mouth like this." George bucks his hips, head thrown back. "So good... Am close, princess," he pants, fucking your mouth in earnest now. You keep still, allowing your boyfriend to chase his release. It doesn't take long before he curses once, hand on the back of your head to keep you in place, as he spills down your throat. He collapses back onto the hotel bed, looking pleased as punch. You pull off him, careful not to spill any of his cum and make a spectacle of it, showing Fernando how you swallow all of it. The Spaniard grabs your chin, tilting your face up so he can kiss you. He licks the seam of your lips, and you’re more than willing to open up. Fernando moans into your mouth as he tastes your boyfriend’s cum on your tongue. You can’t help but roll your hips, desperately seeking something to alleviate the ache between your thighs.

“Oh you want it so badly, don’t you, hermosa? Need to have that pretty cunt of yours filled, hmm?” Fernando coos when he breaks the kiss.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed at the prospect of finally getting fucked. Fernando chuckles, pinching your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

“Think you’ve earned this cock?”

“Uh-hu,” you sigh. Fernando chuckles once more, giving you a slight push to make you lie down.

“Keep her on the edge, George. She’s not allowed to cum until she’s full of cock.”

Despite this not being the first time you have found yourself in this situation, Fernando’s filthy mouth always leaves you blushing. You love it, you more than love it, but the degradation is not something you and George really delve into on a regular basis.

“You’re doing so good, princess, such a good girl,” George murmurs as he presses his lips against yours. He rolls you half onto his chest, your leg hiked up and across his waist and his finger dipping in and out of you. Whining, you roll your hips against his hand, needing more than just the tip of his finger.

“Ssh, I got you baby,” George hums, sliding his middle and ring finger into you. The stretch has you sighing contently as he lazily fucks you with them. You’re not even aware of Fernando kneeling down onto the bed, now fully naked, dropping a bottle of lube and a few foil packets onto the sheets.

“Are you ready, hermosa?”

“Please, I need it, need you to fuck me..”

“Such a cock-hungry whore, aren’t you? Need to start the new year off with a bang, no?” Breathlessly, you nod and let the two drivers manoeuvre your body so you’re fully straddling your boyfriend. You drag your pussy over George’s cock, fully hard again. He groans, stilling your movements so he can slide into you. Both of you can’t help but moan when he bottoms out. You can hear the rustling of packaging being torn open and him rolling the condom down his hard length. His large hands run down your back, pushing you flush against George. Anticipation swirls low in your belly as Fernando gently pulls on the plug. You slide your knees even further out, arching your lower back and pushing your ass up. At this point you will do whatever it takes, as long as it means Fernando will finally give in. George cradles your face in his hand as he leans down slightly to kiss you. You can’t help but gasp into his mouth as Fernando dribbles lube down your ass, spreading your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whimper, breaking the kiss when the Spaniard pushes the tip against your entrance, “Yes, please.. Please Nando..” He chuckles at your begging, pressing a kiss against the top of your spine as he slowly eases himself into your tight hole. Your brain short circuits at the feeling of being stretched and filled like this, face buried in George’s neck.

“Dime niña bonita,” Fernando murmurs against your skin.

“S-so good. Fer-... Fuck, so full..” you pant. George pulls you closer still, his hands pushing on your shoulder blades.

“Let us make you feel good, princess,” he whispers, kissing along your collar bones. You make a noise that could mean anything really, and just let both men use your body. It’s impossible to keep track of whose cock is filling you, the sensation too overwhelming to form a single coherent thought. Through the haze of lust, you can hear both men pant and curse as they chase their release. You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten, clenching down on George’s cock.

“So tight, so good for me princess. Fuck, I’m gonna- gonna cum…”

“Yes..” you sigh, “please baby, fill me.” George tilts your chin down for a searing kiss, groaning into your mouth as he spills deep inside of you. Fernando pulls you up by your arms, your back now pressed against his front. You lock eyes with George and the love you see written all over his face while another man fucks what’s his, forms a lump in your throat.

“So pretty like this, princess,” George says as one of Fernando’s hands cups your breast while the other encircles your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps it there as his hips snap against your ass. George’s softening cock slips out of you and you can feel his cum slowly dripping out.

“Oh you like being put on display like this, don’t you? Such a slut for it, aren’t you hermosa?” The only response you can give him is a whine as the hand that was playing with your nipple slides down your stomach to rub two fingers against your clit.

“Please.. Fernando, I need- Need to- please please please please can I cum?” you sob, thighs trembling.

“Hold it,” he growls into your ear, applying the slightest bit more pressure against your clit. It has you bucking in his hold, earning you a dark chuckle. You can feel the pressure building low in your stomach, your orgasm so close that you can taste it. Laying your hand on top of the one he has around your throat, you squeeze it, telling him just what you need, as he tightens his hand.

“You gonna cum for us, like the good little cockwhore you are?”

“Yes,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut as the tidal wave finally crashes over you. He keeps rubbing your clit as he whispers the filthiest things in your ear. Your body goes rigid, arching against Fernando and a scream dies on your lips. You can feel this pressure building, the feeling different than you’re used to and before you really know what’s happening, your orgasm drips all over Fernando’s fingers and George’s groin who’s still lying underneath you. The Spaniard bites down on the skin between neck and shoulder, hips stuttering before he spills into the condom. He slowly pulls out, leaving you whimpering as your legs stop functioning. George carefully helps you to lie down on the bed, brushing your hair back from where it’s now sticking to your forehead. It vaguely registers that Fernando gets off the bed to dispose of the condom. A bottle is pressed against your lips and you greedily gulp down the cold water, not even caring that half of it runs down your chin. The two drivers work in tandem to clean you up with a flannel and move you onto the dry sheets as they pull the blanket off the bed.

“Did so good, baby,” George murmurs as he pulls you against his chest. Fernando climbs in behind you, draping the sheet over all three of your bodies. You sigh contently, snuggling into your boyfriend. “Sleep, hermosa, we’ll shower in a bit,” the older driver says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he curls around you. What a way to ring in the new year, you think, already looking forward to reliving this night for the rest of the year.

Welp, there you have it. The threesome fic no one asked for (what is it with me and writing threesomes to kick off the new year??? I am having déjà vu)

This would not have happened without @monzabee & @vetteltea, thanks for encouraging this brain rot!

Please let me know what you think, your likes, comments and tags mean the world to me 💜

#f1 fanfic #george russell fanfic #george russell smut #george russell x reader #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso x reader

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adxele · 2 months

Text

some drabbles (ft. isagi,bachira and rin)

a/n: im so sorry for not posting anything lately🙏🙏🙏 here, take this post and hope you enjoy this...somehow😭😭

ISAGI

Y/N: Hey, you wanna see something beautiful??

Isagi: Sure!

Y/N: *holds up a mirror facing Isagi*

Isagi: *blushes with widened eyes*

Isagi: *whispering* I wish you would stop sometimes...

Y/N, casually: Only when you stop being so irresistibly adorable.

Isagi: *blushes harder*

Y/N: I feel like a bird nested in my hair..

Isagi: Not true, you look beautiful.

Y/N: *Blushes* Thanks..

Isagi: Your face is A+

Y/N: *blushes harder while avoiding eye contact*

Isagi: Your thighs-

Y/N: *Red as strawberry* Alright that's enough! I'll fight you!

Isagi: And you'd look fabulous doing it

Y/N: You're cute.

Isagi: No I'm not...

Y/N: Yes you are. You're adorable.

Isagi: I'm taller than you and I'm a football player with abs. I'm not cute.

Y/N: Well, am I cute?

Isagi: Yes. You're the cutest person ever.

Y/N: How so?

Isagi: Because you're just so small & lovable & so endearing to me & you make me so happy & I just want to care for you & make you feel as happy as you make me. You mean so much to me & I love looking at your face because it's the cutest face I've ever seen, because it's the face of the one I love.

Y/N: Well, you're not small, but I could say the same right to you.

Isagi: You think I'm endearing?

Y/N: I think you're adorable.

Isagi: Okay babe, fine, you win, only you can call me cute though.

Y/N: *winking* Okay cutie!

Isagi: *sighs*

Isagi: I'm so happy you called me this morning.

Y/N: Why?? I was crying. That's ugly,

Isagi: Because it just shows how comfortable you are with me

and how you called me instead of anyone else or instead of

just being alone. I love you.

Y/N: Stop it, it was ugly.. I love you too.

Isagi: No baby it was beautiful. We have different definitions of beautiful. You're my only definition of beautiful.

Y/N: ISAGI HELP ME

Isagi: How?

Y/N: IM INJURED. IT HURTS

Isagi: ?!?

Y/N: I FELL

Y/N: *leaning on countertop*

fell in love with you. Hey bby wassup.

Isagi: Omg Y/N, You scared the crap out of me.

Y/N: I'm so sorry. I promise to never do that again. At least I know that you care about me.

RIN

Y/N: Are you.. blushing?

Rin: What, no.

Y/N: Did I get the ever-stoic, hardcore, total emo Rin Itoshi to blush?

Rin: No... It's. It's the cold.

Y/N: Huh. It's the cold. And not that I told you "your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too?"

Rin: *blushing harder,voice cracks* N-no.

Y/N: What are you...doing?

Rin: *Squiggling in Y/N's arms* Hiding.

Y/N: ...Do you mean hugging?

Rin: *Pauses* Did I stutter.

Rin: This is my safe place.

Rin: Now shut up and put your arms around me before I change my mind.

Y/N: Truth or dare?

Rin: *Sighing* Truth.

Y/N: Do you want to kiss me?

Rin: Dare.

Y/N: *leans in with smug smile* I dare you to kiss me.

Rin: Never have I ever-

Y/N: THATS NOT THE GAME!

BACHIRA

Y/N: Shit, I cut my finger...

Bachira: *Runs to Y/N* Wheee oooo wheee oooo wheee oooo!

Y/N: *confused* Huh?

Bachira: *Stops and puts a bandage to Y/N's finger*

Bachira: *Runs again* Wheee oooo wheee oooo wheee oooo!

Y/N: ....

Bachira: *in bed turns over* Hey Y/N, you awake?

Y/N: No

Bachira: Come on, this is important!

Y/N: *Tiredly sighing* Fine,what?

Bachira: *kissing Y/N*

Bachira: I love you~!

Y/N: Lucky me.. Now go to sleep.

Y/N: *taking a nap on their couch*

Bachira: *Slammed the front door open* Y/N!!!!

Y/N: *grumply* whaat....

Bachira: I CAUGHT A BIRD!!! *Muffled chirping sounds*

Y/N: *Sleepily* That's cool Meguru...

Y/N:

Y/N: *Sitting up immediately* WAIT WHAT?! OH MY GOD!

*Grown-up Y/N and Bachira*

Bachira: Man that party was fire!

Y/N: ...You were drunk. Completely out of your mind I will add.

Bachira: Huuh?? I wasn't drunk!

Y/N: Bachi! You were cutting pineapples yelling "SPONGE BOB I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!".

Bachira: Oh

Y/N:

Bachira: Did anyone recorded that though?

*In a dark room*

Y/N: It's pretty dark here, I'm scared..

Bachira: *putting his hand on Y/N's shoulder* Don't worry bae, I got this.

*Stomps foot*

Bachira: *Sketchers light up* Ta-daa!

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock x yn #bachira meguru #itoshi rin #drabble #bluelock x you #can you smell the favoritism

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deanwritings · 2 months

Text

The Guest House - Chapter 8

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,961

A/N: Long chapter for a long wait! Really appreciate everyone's patience and please know that I do see everyone's comments and reblogs and it's much appreciated. I'm officially in grad school so my schedule is all over the place, so I've worked on and finished this chapter during various classes.

You meet Dean in the driveway at 10am, per his request, your backpack slung over your shoulder as he’s throwing some bags of his own into the trunk.

You had considered taking your own car up, in case you wanted to make a quick escape, but you felt embarrassed by the thought. Plus, it would be very obvious why you had taken your car. If you really didn’t want to go, you could have just said, “no,” not have an escape contingency. If you were going, you were going to go the right way.

“Mornin’,” Dean greets you with a drawl and a fresh smile as you step around the back of the truck.

“Well good morning to you too.” You return as he holds his hand out towards you. You slide your bag off your shoulder and hand it over to him. “You’re chipper this morning.” You note as he makes a point to lower, not toss, your back into the trunk.

This was probably the happiest you’ve encountered him in the morning so far.

“How could I not be?” He grins, resting his arms on the trunk’s edge. “Get to work on some fancy cars, get to see my baby, AND,” he holds up a finger before he drops it and points it at you. “My mom makes the best apple pie you will ever have.” You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you were a cake girl. But hell, you’ll try that pie and grin and bear it if it keeps Dean in this good of a mood. You were really starting to enjoy his smile.

“Let’s get to it then.” You smack your hands on the side of the truck before you heads towards the passenger seat and jump inside.

Dean’s tapping his fingers along the steering wheel twenty minutes later, Bob Segaer singing quietly in the background as you watch out the window, Dean glancing at you occasionally.

You hadn’t said much since you first hit the road, just commenting on the few more brazen – aka jackass – drivers that had passed by, and the quietness wasn’t totally comfortable. At the end of the day, you were still basically strangers, and Dean can’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking when he invited you up with him.

He hadn’t meant to, it just fell out of his mouth, and once it was out there, he sure as hell hadn’t expected you to take him up on his offer. But you had. And his mother had raised him better than to rescind an invite.

He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

After he got your text, he knew he was going to have to give his mom a heads up and decided to give her a call.

“Is this the same girl you were complaining about the other week?” Mary’s voice rang through his headphones as he had begun packing for the weekend.

“Yeah, same one.”

“And you invited her to come up with you for the weekend?” Dean’s head fell back as he could hear the implication in his mother’s tone.

“I was trying to be nice. That’s it.” He hoped to stop the gears that were definitely turning in her head. “Believe it or not, you did raise a gentleman.” He peppered in, knowing his mom loves to hear it.

“Well that’s nice to hear.” Dean smirked, correct. Then a beat. “Is she pretty?”

After that, Dean had hung up, leaving Mary’s question unanswered. Because if he had answered it, it would have just opened a whole new conversation, and Dean wasn’t interested in having it.

At this point, the two of you had become civil, hell, even friendly.

And yeah, if Dean had answered Mary’s question, he would have said you were pretty, and had a confidence and sense of humor that, if he wasn’t going through a bitter divorce, would have had him asking you out in a heartbeat. But the last thing Dean wanted or needed right now was a relationship.

“So what do you do at a car auction?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts and he glances towards you, your Y/E/C eyes finding his.

“Not much actually. I’ll go fix the cars up today, but the owners usually get me a ticket as an extra ‘thanks’ since they know I love it. So I more just get to enjoy the show then have to work it. Sometimes if one of my guys wants to buy a car they’ll get my opinion, but these guys usually know their stuff.”

You just nod.

“How many cars do you have to work on today?”

Dean clicks his tongue, thinking.

“Got two to tune up for the show tomorrow, then my client, Rick, also wants me to take a look at his ‘69 Stingray. Shouldn’t take too long.” You just nod again, and Dean wonders just how much you know about cars. Though considering you had been rapidly turning over a dead battery earlier this week, he imagines it’s not much. But it gives him an opening.

“Know much about cars?” He shoots you a quick look, seeing your shoulders shake as you snort out a laugh before he looks back out the windshield.

“Figured it was pretty obvious I don’t.” Dean laughs out his nose, seeing you turn towards him in your seat from his peripherals.

“But when I was sixteen my dad wanted to get me a ‘74, baby blue Mustang. It was such a beautiful car and I was so excited. I would have had the coolest car at school.” You reminisce. “But my mom shot it down because it only had lap belts and I’m pretty sure there were no airbags. Guess she cared about my safety or something.” You laugh and Dean joins in.

He liked hearing you laugh. It also meant you were opening up to him. Which he shouldn’t care about, but it brings a smile to his face nonetheless.

“‘74 Mustang’s a helluva’ a car.” He can picture the exact model in his mind. It’s a hilarious comparison to what he sees you driving around in every day. “Would give your Sonata a run for her money.” You laugh again.

“Yeah no kidding. I’d probably be the worst person for a car like that, though. I would have no idea how to take care of it.” You take a deep breath and look out the window again. “Doesn’t stop me from thinking about it though.” You sigh, earning Dean’s attention. He turns back towards the road, but an idea is now forming.

He grabs his cellphone out of the console cup holder, his eyes quickly darting between the fairly empty highway and his screen as he opens up his texts and swipes a message before hitting send.

As he looks back up, a sign catches his eye.

LAKE CHAMPLAIN BRIDGE

1 MILE

The highway sign gives Dean a heads up that you’re about to hit the best part of the drive.

“Well there will be plenty of cars you can dream about at the auction, even if you know nothin’ about ‘em.”

Dean flips his blinker on and merges into the right lane, getting onto the exit ramp for the bridge.

As he slowly takes the curve, the Lake Champlain Bridge comes into view, the elongated, steel archway glistening in the morning sun and reflecting off the calm waters below. Beyond the overpass, the Adirondack mountains tower over the hidden town, complementing the scenery.

“Woooow,” you breath out, sitting forward in your seat to get a better view out the windshield as the ramp straightens out, welcoming you across the bridge.

“I know.” Dean agrees with a smile. “Never get tired of seeing it.” He sighs honestly.

The shadows play through the windows as Dean speeds across the platform. It only takes about 15 seconds to get across, and you lean back once the bridge can only be seen in the rearview.

“So how come your mom lives out here?” You ask as Dean takes the first exit off the bridge, headed for the outskirts of Bolton.

“She and my dad had moved out here once my brother and I moved out. Mom always wanted to live on the water and Bolton is small enough and affordable that she was able to get her lakefront dream home.” Dean keeps his focus on the road, checking both left and right before heading straight across the intersection he had stopped at.

“And she liked that she would still be close-by. Not that it really matters now that Sam lives in the city.”

“Sam?” Dean glances at you, your brows cinched together. Dean realizes he’s never mentioned his brother. And here he is taking you to meet his mother.

“Sam’s my younger brother.” He explains and your mouth opens in understanding. “He’s a hot shot lawyer in the city where he lives with his fiancé.”

“Ah. Billie had mentioned you had a brother but that was it.”

Of course she did. Dean laughs to himself. He’s curious what else Billie has told you.

But then another thought crosses his mind. He hasn’t told you anything about his family, and he didn’t want to blindside you as you got closer to his mom’s house.

“Also, I should give you a heads up that it’s just my mom.” Dean’s voice lowers as he navigates the familiar backroads. From his vantage point, he can see your eyes narrow, trying to work out his words.

“My dad passed a while back.” Dean clarifies. “Ten years actually.” The words leave Dean a little breathless. He hadn’t really been thinking that this year would mark a decade since his dad had died. This really wasn’t his year.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Dean.” Your voice is quiet, and Dean can hear the pain in it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

Dean’s lip quirks up for just a moment. It’s almost funny how you’re asking for permission to know how his dad died. Not that it bothers him.

“Brain aneurysm.” Dean sighs. “Old man never saw it coming.” He thinks back to the day he got the phone call. He had been at work when his mother called his cell. But still being a garage grunt, Dean hadn’t answered. A few minutes later, Bobby had stepped into the garage and called Dean into his office. Dean never would have thought there was a connection between the timing of his mom’s call and Bobby’s beckoning.

Looking back, he was grateful Bobby was the one who told him. He didn’t need to think about his brother or mother at that moment. Just let the shock and grief overwhelm him in the privacy of Bobby’s office with his boss’ hand of support on his shoulder.

Lisa had picked him up, after Linda had called her and broke the news. At the time, Dean was renting an apartment off Main Street, and Lisa spent the next few days staying over cooking and cleaning for him, making sure he would be prepared for the upcoming wake and funeral.

Back when they had actually cared about each other.

“God, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.” Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s okay. Happened a long time ago now.” The familiar weight of John’s death settles on Dean’s shoulders, even after all this time.

“Doesn’t make it any easier.” You counter. “Just more bearable.” A sad smile graces Dean’s lips as the lake comes into view through the barren trees as a silence falls over the cab.

“Anything else I should know before I meet your mom?” Your voice breaks through the silence. “Any sisters or more exes I should be warned about?”

Dean laughs before he can even think about it, and the weight lightens. He doesn’t thank you for it, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

“I promise that’s it.”

A few minutes later, Dean turns into the familiar driveway, the saturated sage A-frame nestled between the bare birches. One of the white-trimmed windows houses a familiar silhouette, eager for their arrival.

Dean parks the truck behind Mary’s Nissan Rogue, a car he helped her pick out a few years ago when her decades-old minivan finally crapped out.

Dean kills the engine and sits back.

“Ready?” He turns to face you, a bright smile on his face.

You take a deep breath and find his eyes.

“Sure am.”

You had lied. You weren’t feeling ready at all. As you stood at the trunk with Dean, looking up at the lakeside cabin, it was undeniably weird. The only parents you had met were your friends or partners. Never a random guy whose ex-wife was renting you their guest house.

Not to mention you were still reeling from the story of Dean’s father. It was hard enough losing your aunt. You can’t imagine losing your father, and at that young of an age. You had to assume Dean was in his early thirties now, so to lose a parent when you’re barely an adult had to be even more devastating. You wonder if Dean’s father was around when he married Lisa. You can’t imagine getting married without both of your parents by your side to celebrate. Even if the marriage hadn’t worked out, you hoped he had been alive to see it.

Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out your pack, handing it to you. You give him a smile as you take it and throw it over your shoulder, and he smirks back at you.

Once he has his bags, you follow him to the front step, a lone slab of stone, low to the ground, leading up to the tan double doors protected underneath a gabled roof, a lantern-esque pendant hanging overhead.

As Dean reaches for the handle, the door pulls itself open, revealing a woman, a few inches taller than yourself, with blonde hair that’s so light it could be confused for gray, and green eyes matching Dean’s, not to mention the same, bright smile. Though the lines around her lips tell you she wears it more often than her son.

“Dean!” She doesn’t hesitate as she throws her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in tight as his arms holding the bags get trapped to his sides.

“Hi, mom.” Dean huffs, a few beats going by before she lets him go and holds him at an arm’s length, studying him.

“You look thinner.” She frowns, Dean takes a deep breath in and steps back.

“I’m fine, mom.” He assures her the same way any child avoiding a lecture does.

Her lips fold in and she sighs out instead of commenting.

She then turns to you, her smile returning.

“I’m assuming you’re Y/N?” You smile back with a nod. “I hope you’re a hugger.” She steps towards you and wraps her arms around you, giving you a surprisingly strong squeeze for an older woman.

“Mom,” Dean groans, but you just wrap your free arm around her in return.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.” You pat her on the back before she pulls away and then swats her hand through the air.

“Oh please, we’re all adults. You can call me Mary.” You smile at her.

“Well, thank you, Mary, for having me for the weekend.”

“It’s exciting!” She shrugs her shoulders up towards her ears. “It’s like Dean’s a kid all over again having a sleepover. Though they were never with girls.” She smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh as she shoots you a wink.

“Oh Jesus, ok. How about we go inside?” Dean steps around Mary and disappears into the entryway, effectively escaping and ending the conversation.

Mary just chuckles and shakes her head.

“C’mon in.” She follows her son and waves you in and you step inside and close the door behind you.

You’re surprised to find the house is almost completely open, with views stretching straight back to the ceiling-to-wall windows overlooking the lake’s shoreline.

The open space is painted a soft yellow, with matching cream and light blue accents throughout the room. It’s the perfect picture of serenity, with not even a throw blanket out of place.

Several plaques adorn the walls, each with cliché sayings like “Life is better at the lake” and “Living on lake time.”

Along the side wall, right in the center, is a gorgeous stone fireplace, with a natural mantle above it lined with various picture frames.

“Your home is gorgeous,” You honestly gush. You had no idea what to expect, but it was like a living room straight out of Better Homes & Garden.

“Oh well thank you, dear.” Mary puts her hands on her hips and looks around. “It took a lot of elbow grease and a few years, but I finally got it to where I wanted.” Your mouth pops open at her words.

“You did all of this yourself?” You take in the vaulted, beamed ceiling and the wainscotting, appreciating the details that much more.

“Sure did. Needed something to keep me busy.” She trails off, and it takes you a moment to realize she’s talking about her husband.

“Anyways,” she claps her hands. “Let me show you to your room.” She turns up the stairs to the right of the entrance. You look over at Dean who shoots up his eyebrows and you laugh before fixing your bag over your shoulder and following Mary.

The upstairs hallway is just as gorgeous as downstairs, with four, stark white doors adorning the walls. You follow Mary towards the front of the house, where she opens the door for you.

“Here you are,” she ushers you in as she stands in the doorway. It’s a decently sized room, enough for a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a small dresser. The room has a farmhouse-chic look to it with a white-slabbed headboard and matching furniture. The bedside lampshades are a soft red, with the room tied together with a coordinated rug and throw pillows.

It was darling.

“This is great,” you step inside past Mary. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled.” Mary smiles as you turn to face her. “If you need the bathroom, it’s right next door. Dean’s room is right past that, and then I’m across the hall.” She points to her door and you nod. With that, Mary steps out of the doorway, closing the door behind her.

You set your bag down at the corner of the bed and wander over to the window. Selfishly, you were hoping for a lakeview, but your room overlooks the driveway, Dean’s green truck and Mary’s SUV taking up the scenery instead.

You take a deep breath as you head back towards the bed and kneel down at your bag, zipping it open and pulling out the very few clothes you brought for the weekend. You decide to put your clothes away, wanting to be a tidy guest, and hang up the only nice item you brought on the hook on the back of the bedroom door.

You make a quick pit stop in the bathroom, making sure you still look fresh before passing the open doors of Dean and Mary’s rooms, stealing a glance into each before you head downstairs.

As you return back to the foyer, you follow the muffled voices of the Winchesters around the corner to the closed-off portion of the house, stepping into the farmhouse-modern kitchen; a defined theme seamlessly integrated throughout the whole home.

Dean is leaning against the center island, the base a vibrant blue that probably reflects the lake water in the summer, while Mary sits on one of the stools, her hands wrapped around a mug resting on the white countertop.

Dean notices you first, standing up a bit straighter as Mary turns in her seat to look towards you.

“All settled?” Mary asks.

“Yes, thank you.” You stand under the room’s archway, feeling like you’re intruding on her and Dean’s personal space.

“Would you like a coffee or anything? I can make you something to go.”

“To go?” You brow furrows. You know Dean has a work appointment, but you figured you would hang back at the house with Mary while he was busy. You look towards him, a sly smile on that stupidly handsome face of his as he relaxes next to his mother.

“Figured you could come with me, learn a thing or two before the show tomorrow.” His eyes glisten in the sunlight shining through the multitude of windows.

Your heart skips a beat at his words and his gaze.

“I really hope you’re not expecting me to help.” You shoot him a pointed look. You were useless when he fixed your battery just a few days ago, there’s no way you would be able to help him fix a speciality car. You wouldn’t even know the names of tools if he asked you to hand them to him.

He chuckles. “I think I got a preview of your car knowledge this week,” he fully pushes off the island. “I think I’d be better off alone there.” You roll your eyes.

Ass. Even if you just had the same thought.

He steps towards you and flips his car keys in his hand.

“But, I did set something up for you.” You frown at him.

Did he sign you up for a car class or something? You did not agree to anything like that when he invited you up for the weekend.

Scanning your face, he quells your concerns.

“Just trust me.” You stare up at him, holding his gaze as he smiles down at you.

Damn it.

“Fine.” You huff.

About fifteen minutes later, Dean turns down a long driveway, a sign in gold letters welcoming you to the Lime Rock Raceway.

“A race track?” You turn towards Dean as he drives further down the path, a winding course coming into view. Grandstands rise up above the track, all empty this time of year.

Dean just responds with a smirk as he parks in front of the raceway’s entrance.

Without a word, Dean steps out of the truck, and you follow suit, one step behind him as he waves to the security attendant at the gate before finally coming to a halt at the edge of the track as your eyes widen at the car parked at the checkered finish line.

“Is that–” You point to the light blue, curving frame in front of you, your heart in your throat.

“Not quite the ‘74 Mustang you wanted, but figured a ‘73 would do.” He grins down at you, but you’re too awestruck to return the gesture.

You step past him, your eyes glued to the only car that ever held your interest. It may be a year off, but it was just as beautiful as the one you had wanted since you were sixteen years ago.

And it was parked right in front of you.

“How–” you turn towards Dean, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs.

“My client, Rick, has a collection and I asked him if he could bring this one with him.”

Holy shit. He did this for you. Went out of his way to bring your dream car to you.

Where the hell was the asshole you met only a few weeks ago? Because he certainly wasn’t standing in front of you now.

“And,” he steps forward when you don’t respond, pulling his hands out of his pocket. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet.” He leans down towards you, his smile growing.

“You get to drive it.”

Keep reading Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @magssteenkamp

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #the guest house

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gretavanbear · 5 months

Text

All Eyes on Me

a/n: hey guys! just a little something for u since i love u guys and got inspired. i hope u enjoy <;3

NSFW 18+!

Jake Kiszka POV

the feeling of having all eyes on you was something you became obsessed with. of course, sharing the stage with your three brothers took a part of it away, but you always knew how to get the attention right back. it became one of the most rewarding feelings for you, having everyone needy and wanting.

and so you became a monster once those eyes tracked your every movement. you felt lucky they couldn’t hear you, because the animalistic groans that left your lips as you touched the strings and caressed your guitar would leave them a fucking mess.

tonight, the air felt different. you were in europe, feeling frisky. you knew your fans were expecting you to act different, with the moustache you’d been growing out the entire break off tour.

you had been playing extremely hard tonight, your mouth almost constantly open to let your ragged breaths out, the slight moans escaping your lips as your cock rubbed against your guitar ever so gently. you knew how much they liked it, seeing you all sweaty like this, wanting to taste the sweat that travelled down your chest.

you knew how much they wanted it.

your mind went blank once you raised the guitar to your face, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the whammy bar.

yeah.. scream for me. you thought.

you heard the roar of the crowd as you bobbed your head against it, letting the sound of it travel around the arena, knowing how it’ll affect them.

you felt yourself throbbing in your satin pants, hoping the stain of your precum wouldn’t show through the material, luckily the show was almost over and your sweet relief was awaiting for you soon in your hotel room.

stepping out of the shower, you sighed whilst brushing your hair after drying yourself off. still rock hard from earlier. you had edged yourself a couple times under the water but you wanted to know what they thought of your little act.

you laid down in your comfortable hotel bed, fully naked in your favourite attire to please yourself this way.

you turned your phone on and pressed the ‘x’ app, logging on to your burner account. it had no followers, and a random username where no one could guess it’s you.

usually, you’d look through your bookmarks where you kept your favourite posts that people wrote about you, mostly about your body, the way you touch the guitar.

but tonight, you had given them something to talk about.

scrolling through your timeline, a video of you with the guitar against your face was all you could see.

user: “i wish i was that guitar”

yeah… i wish you were too..

you grabbed the base of your cock, caressing it with your fingertips softly grabbing it, teasing yourself a little.

user: “he definitely knows what he’s doing”

so, can you see through my little act? god i love the way you all want me..

your eyes fluttered shut as your hand movements increased, gripping yourself a little harder now.

user: “he knows how to use his tongue doesn’t he”

i do… fuck..

you threw your head back, moans escaping your lips as you began to fuck into your hand, thinking about the way you acted, the way they all loved it.

user: “does he know I’m a set of holes for him”

god damn.. why don’t you let me find out, hm?

you never had anyone specific in mind when reading these, just knowing someone was out there wanting you was enough. you could feel your orgasm approaching but you wanted more, you wanted to keep going. you slowed down your hand movements and stroked slowly, scrolling through more posts.

user: “he’s literally tongue punching his guitar on stage when is it my turn”

door’s unlocked babe..

fuck. they just get you, don’t they? they know you love it, they know you love basking in their attention. it fed you. the horribly horny monster that resides inside you, waiting to be teased.

user: “i need him to fuck me NOW”

have i got you all wet and dripping for me, honey? oh i’m sure i have..

you groaned as your orgasm took over, you were desperate now. fucking into your hand as your cum leaked all over your fingers, hitting your chest and a part of your neck. you really needed this. you breathed out a string of curses as the final drops of cum leaked over your hand.

“fuck..” you giggled to yourself as you looked at the mess you caused.

you knew you could always count on your fans to treat you right.

taglist :

@sarakay-gvf @positivegvfthings @brokenbells11 @krystalm98 @shutupdevvie @milkgemini @jordierama @maddie-van-fleet @writingcold @gretavanfleas @jakes-eyebrows @spark-my-nature @lek-gvf @rad-space-princess @joshkiszkatoothgap @hippievanfleet @objectsinspvce @gvfficrecs @ageoffleet @welllauragvf @weightofstar @groupiegirlie08 @fwzco @nicoleghost18 @andromeda-raine-gvf @sarrrahhh @ren-ni @zoe-tally06 @hellowgoodbye @aminaalilyy @spinthehemmo @hippievanfleet @streamofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @brokenbells11 @gvfpal @gvfmarge @jakeygvf21 @Timeless—classics @mackalah @myleftsock @bubblyjake @valvebone @lexii-nv-c @mp0801 @hellowgoodbye @girldonttryme @risingwiththeheatabove @fakeplastiqtree @beckahvanfleet @lunaaaat

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kill4luvina · 4 months

Text

"The Unexpected"

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Black!Reader x Aged up!Yuji

CW - Modern, College AU, Yuji getting high for the first time, unprotected sloppy sex, Yuji being an undercover SLUT without even knowing, Probably Grammar Mistakes, Lowkey a little sloppy writing sorry guys.

Summary : Yuji comes over for a sleepover at your house after having one of his worst breakdowns & you get him high as a way to destress but somehow yall end up fucking it out instead.

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"Cause I got you sprung off in the springtime Fuck all your free time, You don't need no me-time That's you and me time, We be gettin' so loud That dick make my soul smile That dick make me so damn proud"

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Opening you front door you'd find your best friend standing there in tears. You're eyes would soften as soon as he sneezed realizing it was pouring rain. He was barely covered, only wearing a black Nike hoodie and sweat pants with his hood off. He had just had his 3rd metal break down of the day after stressing over his upcoming exams. "Oh my babyy." You'd coo giving him a hug that you'd feel him completely melt into ignoring you were getting completely soaked too.

You'd close to the door before telling him to take off this hoodie and shoes and follow you into your room and he complied. You'd give him a extra pair of Pj's you had bought just for him because he always had sleepovers. "Thank you Y/n" Yuji would say as he laid on your bed snuggled into one of your pillows, he was no where close to tired but he was too depressed to do anything else. "Of course my love.. You want anything to eat? I could order you something.." You'd say as you sat beside him.

"No thanks, I'm good.." He'd say as he turned his head away from you, the two of you would sit in a comfortable silence for a little bit. "Wanna get high?" You'd ask randomly making turn his head towards you quickly looking at you. "You know ion do that.." he'd mumble as he watched you get up walking over to get you grinder from your drawer. "First time for everything."

"Alright, just hit it..." You'd say passing over the blunt, he stare at it for a moment before looking up at you. “Cmon.” You say noticing him hesitating before he took it from you, he stare at it for a bit longer before taking a hit.

You’re not exactly sure how it happened or why, but not long into this session you noticed Yuji getting touchy. Every time he’d pass the blunt you’d notice him closer than he was seconds ago. His head now resting on your thighs as he waited for you to pass the blunt back.

“You feeling better?” You’d ask feeling him nod his head yes, as one of his fingers drew imaginary circles into your skin. “Y/n…” he’d say catching your attention as you looked down, not expecting for him to bring his head up kissing you.

“Yuji? Are you high?” You’d ask as soon as he finally pulled away from the kiss. He’d shake his head no as he layed his head back returning to drawing circles. “Just wanted to kiss you.” He’d say shortly say during a small silence between you too. "mmm, you wanna do anything?" You'd ask after a while.

"fuck-!" Yuji's hand immediately flew to the back of your head, eyes rolling back as he tried not to whimper. You'd pull away spitting onto his dick, putting your two hands on the base as you worked quick pumps. "You like that? You bouta cum?" You'd say as you watch him tremble, contemplating how he even got in this position with his bestfriend in-between his legs.

You'd got right back to swallowing his dick bobbing your head up and down his length. "Y/N!" He'd almost scream as soon as he felt you sucking on his tip, tongue twirling around it. You'd look up at him before fully taking him, deepthroating him as he subconsciously face fucked you. His dick was a complete mess, as you were drooling all over it.

"W-Wait!!" Yuji would struggle getting out, but it was too late he came down your throat as soon as he felt your tongue make contact with his balls. (god forgive me) Yuji quickly pushed your head off his dick before you recovered, afraid due to you taking to much time to pull away yourself. He'd fall on his back onto the bed as he caught his breath.

"Yujii.. Your not tired yet right? This was your idea.." You'd giggle as he looked over too you, eyes slightly widening at the sight of you. On your back, legs completely spread just for him with no panties. Without a second of hesitation he was over you giving you sloppy kisses, trying to align himself to you.

He'd bottom out as soon as he entered, tears filling up in his eyes as he felt his heart beat start to speed up. "Mn-Gh!" You'd moan, eyes rolling back as he left kisses down your neck as he completely fucked the shit out of you. "You like that?" He'd mock you from earlier as you started to tremble under his touch. "Yuji!" You'd cry out as he continued fucking you at a brutal pace, his hands moving to hold your legs back farther

At the point, he was fuck you so deep her was unlocking places you never new existed til' right now. You'd look down only to notice a creamy ring around the base of his dick. And all you need to know is that the rest of that night was actually insane.

He woke up the next morning in your bed naked, confused asl and embarrassed as soon as noticed you asleep on top of him snuggled comfortably. (someone take my computer away from me i need an ass whooping for this shit.)

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atinylittlepain · 4 months

Text

Marcus Pike x f!reader

(there is no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man)

He's looking for something other than vanilla, and she is more than happy to provide such a service to him.

warnings | 18+ this is smut, pegging, rimming, sucking and fucking, sex work, lowkey sugardaddy!marcus, sweet shy marcus getting his world rocked, and then pancakes and a blackberry and a black american express card so ya know, the works.

a/n | this was written LAST MAY woof - i think originally it was supposed to be for the first round of the PMAMC (also woof) but she's here now :') special thanks to @idolatrybarbie and @wannab-urs for resurrecting this fucker. there is a part two... just sayin

..............................

The first thing she notices about him is that he’s nervous. He keeps loosening and tightening his tie, eyes glancing around in quick, anxious sweeps. He’s definitely never been here before, she would’ve remembered a face that handsome, strong jaw under a little scruff and big brown eyes that set a smile tugging at her lips when he finally meets her gaze.

“Hey there, handsome, welcome in. First time?” His eyes drop down to the floor, a clipped laugh coming out as she steps closer to him.

“Am I that obvious?” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes crinkled in a shy smile that sets warmth spreading in her chest, bringing a delicate palm to his shoulder.

“Just never seen you around before, that’s all. What brings you to Pandora’s tonight?”

“Well, I, uh– I wanted to– um–” He cuts his own rambling off, jaw slack as he watches a man in head to toe latex walk by, being led on a leash by one of her coworkers.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. I wanna know what you want. Would you feel more comfortable talking some more in one of our private rooms?” Eyelashes fluttering, spine arched, she knows exactly how to reel them in, noting the dip and bob of his throat as he nods.

“I– yeah, um, yes please.” Manners, she likes that. She slips her hand down his arm, taking his hand before turning heel and tugging him down the dark hallway, taking them into one of the vacant playrooms. It’s one of the tamer rooms, a four poster bed in the middle, red silk sheets, and a dark chest of drawers off to the side full of all sorts of fun. She guides him to sit down on the end of the bed beside her, his hands immediately going to his thighs in a nervous squeeze. His eyes are still darting everywhere, but mostly to the tops of her breasts, pressed up in the strappy leather corset she has on, though he doesn’t let his gaze linger there long before jerking his eyes back up to her face.

“You don’t have to be nervous, baby. I just want to hear a little about why you came in, and how you’d like to be taken care of tonight, alright?” He nods, clearing his throat a few times before replying.

“I just– you gotta know that I’ve never done anything like this before, really. But, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different? My, well my ex-wife, I think she thought I was too, um, vanilla. So I guess I want to– not be– um, vanilla anymore. And, Jesus Christ, you probably think I’m crazy, huh?” Somehow, he manages to still be handsome and look like a kicked puppy at the same time, and she has to resist the urge to push his flop of hair back and press a kiss to the crease between his brows.

“Not crazy at all. So when you say not vanilla, what does that mean to you?” When he gives her no answer, eyes only widening as he seems to wrack his brain for what to say, she laughs lightly, bringing a palm to his thigh and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Why don’t we start with the basics? Do you see yourself being more of a dom or a sub?”

“I– what does that mean, dom and sub?” Oh boy, more basic than the basics then.

“Dom is shorthand for dominant, that’s the person in control in the relationship, and they’re usually the one inflicting any pain, if you’re into that. And sub means submissive, that’s the person who follows the dom’s commands, who gets taken care of.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense. I mean, I don’t think I’d be very good at being in control like that, so I guess, more submissive?” I’ll say. She offers him a nod and smile, still trying to coax some of his anxiety out of him.

“Sounds good, handsome. If it’s alright with you, I can be your partner for the night. Let’s get some paperwork for you and then we can get started, ok?” He only nods, something she’s going to have to work on with him.

“For this to work, I’m gonna need you to always use your words with me, alright? That way I know exactly what you do and don’t like.” She says it to him over her shoulder as she rifles through the chest of drawers, getting out a waiver and a pen for him.

“Uh, yes, ok, I can– I can do that.” She sits back down beside him with a hum, passing him the paperwork, watching his brow furrow as he reads over it.

“That’s a list of kinks we do and don’t participate in. Are there any that you’re particularly interested in exploring tonight?” Another clear of his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the paper when he responds.

“Do men– do men really like that? I mean, I’ve heard of it, but, does it feel good?” She looks over his shoulder to where his finger is pointing, her lips crooking into a smile when she sees what’s caught his attention.

“Mmhmm, it can be very pleasurable, with an experienced partner, of course.”

“And you– are you, um, experienced?” Her smile broadens into a grin at his question, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Oh baby, I’m very experienced. Is that something you’d like to try out tonight?” He seems to consider it, his eyes darting from her lips back up to her gaze a few times before he finally nods.

“Fuck it, yeah, I wanna do that. But is it ok if that’s the only thing we do on this list? I don’t think I’m really into the whole– chains and whips thing.” She laughs at that, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she nods.

“Whatever you want. Just need you to sign that waiver which basically affirms that we’re all clean here at Pandora’s, and you are too. You’re familiar with our pricing, right? It’s three hundred for an hour, and five for two.”

“Is it ok if I do two?”

“You’re the customer, honey. What you say goes.” With a decisive nod, he ticks the box next to two hours on the form, signing his name on the dotted line before handing her back the pen and paper.

“Nice to officially meet you, Marcus. You can call me Daisy, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” As she sets the paperwork down on the chest of drawers, he lets out a light laugh, drawing her attention over her shoulder.

“That’s not your real name, is it?” Stepping out of her heels, she pads back over to him, standing right between his legs, setting down the items she grabbed before guiding his hands onto her hips.

“It’s not, is there something else you’d like to call me for the night?” He takes a sharp inhale as she drags his hands from her hips, up and up until his palms are cupping her breasts through her corset.

“I, um– Daisy’s good, yeah.” Letting her hands fall away from his, his eyes search hers, obvious in looking for permission that she’s happy to give.

“You can touch me, Marcus, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Can I take this off of you?” His fingers are toying with the laced-up front of her corset, which she lightly bats away.

“It’s a little tricky, let me.” She makes deft work of unlacing the garment, a known path for her fingers that usually bores her, though there’s a little kick of something else, him watching her and the fine flicker of her hands. Marcus lets out a laugh at the grin she offers him, fizzling in his throat when she lets the corset fall away to reveal herself to him, standing before him in only her barely-there shorts. The heat of his hands just hovers over the swell of her breasts, and she can’t help the sigh that thrums in her throat when he finally lets his palms press against her skin. It’s not often that a client affects her like this, and she has to clear her throat to refocus on the real task at hand.

“Why don’t we get you out of your clothes? Sit back for me.” She’s undone dozens of ties, worked her fingers through miles of shirt buttons, and doesn’t even have to look to get trousers unfastened now, but she can’t shake the prickle running up her spine at the way his eyes follow every movement, and she can’t hide the shudder that runs through her when he tentatively tucks her hair behind her ear as she works his pants down his hips.

“Have you been doing this for long?” She shoots him a look from her spot between his legs, his pants discarded to leave him in just his briefs.

“Are you really trying to make small talk?” Oh, he’s blushing now. She likes that, crawling closer and dipping her head down to press a kiss to the center of his chest before dragging her lips up and up, catching at the bob in his throat before letting her mouth just hover over his, feeling the shaky pants of his breath.

“There’s no need for that, Marcus. I’m gonna take care of you now, and I need you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t, do you understand?” His voice comes out a little hoarse, and she can feel the thrum of it where her chest is brushing against his.

“Yes, I understand.” A grin is all she gives him, ducking down before his lips can meet hers as she lets her mouth drag a trail down his torso until she’s nipping at the waistband of his briefs.

“Can I take these off?” When all he does is nod, she gives his hip a light pinch, something between a laugh and a grunt jumping from his chest at the sensation.

“Yeah, you can take them off, I– sorry.” She smoothes her palm over the spot she pinched, smiling up at him.

“That’s ok, baby. Just remember your words for me.” He can’t be real, that’s all she can figure when she gets him totally bare before her, his cock a perfect pink that matches the flush on his chest, thick enough to set her jaw aching in anticipation, and long, pre-come smearing in the tuft of hair over his pelvis. She can’t help but wonder why the fuck anyone would ever want to leave him when he’s this pretty to look at.

“Can I touch you? Get you warmed up for me?” He’s propped up on his elbows to watch her kneeling between his legs, lips swollen from how much he’s been biting them, slightly parted in something like wonder.

“Yeah, yes, please.”

“Hmm, I like a boy with some manners. Just relax, Marcus, and remember, I’m here to take care of you.” With that, she presses a kiss just below his belly button, smiling against the twitch of his muscles before dipping down and letting her lips ghost over the underside of his cock. It’s involuntary, the hum she lets out when she takes him fully into the heat of her mouth, relaxing her throat like she’s learned to do, a necessary move in order to take all of him. And he’s perfect beneath her, thighs flexing under her splayed palms, low moans rumbling in his chest as she alternates between swallowing him down and lapping at his leaking tip. She knows she’s done her job, that she’s loosened him up, when those moans start to get a little louder, a little more drawn out, and he slumps down off his elbows to run a hand through his hair, eyes scrunched shut. A kiss over one hip, then the other, keeping her palm steady on his heaving belly while she reaches for the lube, his eyes squinting open to see why she stopped.

“You ever used lube before?”

“No, never needed to, I guess.”

“Well it’s gonna be your best friend tonight. I’m gonna warm a little up in my palms and then I’ll let you get used to the feel of it, ok?” He hums out an mmhmm, watching her hands rub in quick circles, his eyes following the subtle shake of her breasts with the movement. And when she gets her hands on him again, slicking her palm up his cock, a hiss slips through his lips.

“Sorry, is it still cold?”

“No, fuck– just feels really good.” She grins at that, letting her wrist flick, hand in an easy glide as she slips her palm down to cup the weight of his balls, his groan cracking and shooting up an octave, hips jolting at the sensation.

“Has no one touched you like this before, baby?”

“I– Jesus, no– no one’s done that before.”

“Well that’s just not right. Feels good, huh?” A little squeeze to punctuate her question sets another moan loose in his chest as he presses his head back into the sheets.

“Y-yes, feels really good.” She nudges his thighs open a bit more, letting her hand slip down lower, not pressing, but circling, gauging how he reacts as she keeps her other hand easily stroking his cock.

“Remember, need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. We can stop at any time. Do you like what I’m doing right now?” His eyes are still shut tight, one hand fisted in his hair, the other tangled in the sheets, pleasure pulling his whole body taut.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s, hah– it’s different, good, different good.” His words go a bit slurred when she presses her finger forward, opening him up as he lets out another breathy moan.

He takes it well, whimpers and moans crackling in his throat as she starts a steady thrust, only pausing to work a little more lube over her hand.

“Doing so good for me, Marcus. You wanna try taking a little more?” He sits up on his elbows, surprising her a bit with his firm reply.

“I want more, want you to use that on me, please.” He tilts his head over to the strap laying on the end of the bed, once again catching her off guard.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He tilts his head at her, a crooked smile on his face.

“Didn’t you say something about the customer always being right?” She lets out a real laugh at that, shaking her head at him as he just grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“I guess so. Alright, handsome, why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me? We’ll take it nice and slow.” He seems a bit taken aback by that request, his smile going a little slack as she gets off the bed to step into her harness, though he catches himself, clearing his throat and shifting around on the bed into the position she asked for.

She can’t help herself, getting back on the bed and kneeling behind him, laying a quick pat to his very cute ass that has him craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her.

“Sorry, just looks so good I had to give it a little tap. You ready for me?” He hums his assent as she slicks her fake cock in lube, bringing one palm over his low back in a reassuring circle as she scoots in closer.

“Just relax, Marcus, this is about you feeling good. That’s it, open up for me.” She works her strap in slow, curling over him to press her lips in a murmuring of praise into his shoulder blades as he whimpers beneath her, his hands fisted tight in the sheets.

“How’re you feeling, baby? Is it too much? We can go back to what we–”

“No, no. I just– just need a minute, fuck– didn’t think it’d feel this good.” She’s not being professional about this, she knows it too, but she doesn’t care. A professional would be checking the clock, making sure that he gets his before his time is up. A professional wouldn’t be laying kisses over his shoulders, whispering to him that he’s doing so good, that he can take it, that he’s so pretty like this. But nothing about the way she wants him right now feels professional, the way she wants to take care of him, to make him feel good, to keep him feeling good for as long as she can.

“Just say the word. I move when you want me to.”

Slow and smooth, nothing but patience and permission in how she fucks him, her hips slotting with his again and again and again, simmering down into a close press, her chest draped over his back and her hand working his cock in time with her thrusts when he finally unravels beneath her. He slumps down onto his forearms, a slur of curses punching out of his lungs as she runs her palms up and down his shuddering back. But what he does next is so unexpected she finds herself at the mercy of his movements. The moment she pulls her hips away from his, he turns over underneath her, still catching his breath as his hands find her hips, insistent and harsh in the way he pulls her down onto the bed. He’s certainly a sight, cheeks flushed and hair perfectly mussed up in every direction, his eyes blown dark and wide as he hovers over her.

“Can I take care of you now? Is that allowed?” A professional would say no, that his time is up, get him a towel and a glass of water and process his credit card.

She doesn’t say no.

He fumbles a bit with the straps of the harness, letting out an impatient groan that makes her giggle, quick to bat his hands away and make easy work of shimmying the whole thing down her legs. And the smile he gives her as she does is downright sheepish.

“That’s, uh, a bit tricky.” She brushes his hair back out of his face, thumb settling against the dimple in his cheek, a move that’s entirely too sweet and she knows it.

“Just a little. I’m all yours now though.” He doesn’t waste any time, ducking his head down to press a sweet kiss over the top of her breast that turns salacious when he slides his tongue down over the tight peak of her nipple, her back arching up into the heat of his mouth as he lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. His hands are splayed around her hips, greedy and insistent in the way his fingers curl and press into her ass, lifting her hips up to slide her tiny shorts off her legs before he settles back between her thighs, his nose brushing against her twitching stomach, dark eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Is this ok? Can I taste you? Make you feel good like that?” He steals a move from her book when all she does is nod, his hand that’s still curled around her hip laying a gentle pinch to the swell, his grin going boyish as she huffs out a laugh.

“Can I have your words, Daisy, please?” She tilts her head at his shy question, enjoying the flushed flare creeping up his cheeks.

“Hmm, you’re a fast learner, huh? Yeah, baby, I want your mouth, Want you to make me feel good.”

It’s not that she had been expecting him to be bad at it. But she also hadn’t been expecting him to be so fucking good either. Head thrown back, thighs trembling around his scruff, moaning his name good. He’s not precious about it, licking a flat stripe through her cunt before letting his tongue catch on her clit in a harsh press, dipping back down to lap up the slick pooling at her entrance, a continuous circuit of pleasure that has every muscle in her body tensing up. He groans low in his chest when she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging just a bit unkindly when his teeth graze her clit. One large palm snakes up to grasp at the swell of one of her breasts, his other hand pressed across her pelvis to keep her spasming hips still as he fucks her with his tongue, the strong hook of his nose dragging across her clit with each pass. And it hits her all at once, that snare of pleasure snapping hot and hard as she comes with a stilted moan of his name, her heel pressing between his shoulder blades, keeping him exactly where he is, and he continues to work her over as she comes undone on his mouth.

She tugs at his hair again when it becomes too much, her hips jolting at the thrumming chuckle he lets out when he finally pulls away, resting his cheek against her hip while she tries to catch her breath. They lay like that for a hiccup of time, just staring at each other, a dazed smile on his glistening lips that she knows is mirrored in her own hazy grin. Eventually she lets out a long sigh, reaching out for him and thumbing away some of her arousal that’s smeared across his jaw.

“Do you wanna, like, get a burger or something?”

“Is that– is that a part of my two hours?” “Oh baby, your two hours were up a while ago.”

…

He’s waiting for her right outside the club, and she mentally kicks herself for having worn sweats and a hoodie in for her shift earlier, though he doesn’t seem to mind, smiling big and broad when she steps outside to join him.

“I know you said burgers, but there’s a diner around the corner that does the best pancakes in DC. Sound good to you?” She likes this version of him too, confident, certain, a bit old-fashioned with the way he holds his arm out for her to take like they didn’t just wreck each other a few moments ago, letting her hold onto him the whole walk over to the diner, opening the door for her, the whole chivalric production.

It’s so late at night, they’re virtually the only people in the place, tucking into a cracked vinyl booth and putting in their order, pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon, the works. And they share every last bite, having both clearly worked up an appetite after their evening together.

Though he’s vague about it, she can suss out for herself that he’s some sort of higher-up government type, she knows them well, and in turn, she answers his questions about her, that her work at Pandora’s is good enough to be supporting her through college, Marcus seeming to perk up when she tells him she’d like to be an art teacher one day. He’s older than her, at least enough to have already been married and divorced, but she can’t find it in herself to care about that, too busy enjoying their easy conversation, the subtle game of footsie they have going on under the table, and the way he smiles at her, all of his attention on her. It’s so strange, so different, so starkly contrasted to the way her nights usually go, not that she minds the simple rotation of disinterested clients, but she hasn’t had someone look at her, really look at her the way Marcus is, in quite a while.

“I have to admit, I wasn’t really expecting my night to end like this.” Plates long cleared, each of them nursing a mug of coffee as the first sweeps of dawn start to light up the streets outside, she smiles at his admission.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” He grins at her question, leaning in on his elbows like he has the wildest secret to tell her.

“Really good surprise. I mean, I just think you’re– amazing. Fuck, is that weird of me to say?” She mirrors him, leaning in on her elbows, a smile threatening to quirk her lips.

“Hmm, no, it’s cute. For the record, I think you’re kinda amazing too.” Their faces are so close, and she realizes all at once that she hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“Only kinda, huh? Guess I didn’t do my job then.” She can almost feel the curve of his smile as she laughs at his simpering response, the sound getting swallowed when he closes the space between them, pressing his lips to hers. And he’s good at this too, his palm coming to cup her jaw, thumb stroking along her cheek as he deepens the kiss, licking into her mouth and nearly melting her on the spot. Though it’s over too soon for her liking when they get interrupted by someone clearing their throat in front of their table, pulling away to see the rather annoyed looking waitress setting their check down and shuffling away with a sour side-eye. She opens her mouth to protest when Marcus reaches for his wallet, but he waves his hand, black American Express glinting in the diner’s fluorescent lights.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do after going over my two hours.” She can tell he means it as a joke, a flippant remark, but her stomach still sinks at even the suggestion of this still being a business transaction. It’s a sore spot for her, and though she’s more than comfortable with the work she does, her exes hadn’t been, nor had they been kind about it for that matter.

Busy signing the check, Marcus doesn’t notice the way her face falls, and she’s already out of the booth and halfway out the door of the diner when he finally calls out for her, further rubbing salt in the wound when the name he uses is Daisy.

“Woah, woah, hey, what happened in there?” The hand he hooks around her bicep is gentle but insistent, and she can’t help the tears threatening to spill over when he turns her around to look at him in the faint morning light.

“Look, if that’s all this is to you, just business, that’s fine, but I have enough respect for myself to not–” He cuts her off, bringing his broad palm to cup her cheek again, his eyes wide and unwavering.

“Hey, that’s not what this is– I mean, at least not anymore. We did meet under some, ah, particular circumstances. But this isn’t business to me now, if that’s ok with you?” He thumbs away her stray tears, and she nearly goes dizzy with the relief she feels hearing those words from him.

“I’m sorry, baby, it was a stupid thing to say, wasn’t even thinking.” Baby, it’s the second time he’s called her that. She’s never anyone’s baby, they’re always hers, but she likes it now, coming from him, finding herself smiling into his touch.

“I don’t want you to call me Daisy.” His eyes soften, smile tempering as he nods.

“Ok, what should I call you?” She tells him her real name, and with it, the last shred of her professionalism dissolves, and she doesn’t care one bit. He says her name like he’s rolling a hard candy around in his mouth, slow sugar in each syllable before he presses a kiss between her brows, lips trailing down to catch hers in a sweet smack.

“Can I see you again? And, definitively not as, um, as business?” It makes her laugh, how quickly he shifts between confidence and constraint. She likes both.

“I would really really like that, Marcus. Am I giving you my number or are you giving me yours?” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, like he’s surprised she actually wants that, though he’s quick to catch himself, clearing his throat and smiling.

“Uh, both? Both is good, right?” They swap phones, and she can’t help thinking to herself that of course this man has a Blackberry, stifling a giggle as she types in her number.

“Can I walk you to your car? It’s back at the club, right?”

“Oh, I don’t have a car, actually. Just take the bus to get around.” He doesn’t seem to like that, lips pressing into a thin line as he looks at her.

“How about I get you home this morning? Would that be ok?” Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t dream of getting into the car of a man she just met, but seeing as she’s already broken a dozen of her cardinal rules with him, she doesn’t think twice about getting into his sleek BMW that’s still parked outside the club. He keeps a palm splayed just above her knee, thumb idly swiping back and forth, a soothing lull as she gives him directions toward her apartment complex. She hates to admit it to herself, but she’s a bit reluctant to get out when he does pull up to her building, leaning over the console for a kiss that he willingly gives her.

“So I’ll call you?” She lays a kiss to the small patch in his scruff, smiling against his skin when he lets out a huff.

“I’ll answer. Thank you, Marcus, for a really nice night, and morning.”

When she gets inside her apartment, she slumps back against the door, blowing out a long exhale and shaking her head.

“Fuck.” Her boss is going to kill her, but she doesn’t really care.

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