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#most definitely set in new york
cyberstabbing · 1 month
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this looks like a still image from a movie from the late 70s/early 80s
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babblingfishes · 1 year
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Me: peppino as a tumblr sexyman? i dunno about sexy but yeah i guess i could write pizza tower fic if i wanted to. maybe just scraps in my drafts.
Me two days later imposing my hells upon the local roleplay server:
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clarabow-mp3 · 4 months
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holy shit percy jackson lived through 9/11
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batshit-auspol · 4 months
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With the sudden collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, many of the former empire's resources were sold off to the highest bidder, and their $14 billion space shuttle program was no exception.
Seeking to recoup some of that eyewatering spend, in 1998, the "Buran" (Russia's answer to the American Space Shuttle) was offered up for sale on eBay for $10 million.
No serious offers were received - with most people assuming the listing to be a joke, until the New York Post confirmed the sale, with Russian authorities stating they "actually have two" if anyone is interested.
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(Pictured: A later auction of a smaller scale Buran in 2005)
Sensing an opportunity, a group of Aussie entrepreneurs including Australia's first astronaut and the lawyer for Prime Minister Paul Keating offer to lease the shuttle from Russia, to put it on display in Australia during the Sydney Olympics.
After gaining permission from the Kremlin for the lease, in 1999 the Russian military briefly stops bombing Chechnya in order to dismantle the Buran, and it is placed on a barge to be shipped to Sydney on the (soon to be infamous for other reasons) Tampa shipping vessel at a cost of $5 million.
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Once in Sydney, after a disastrous few months on display where crowds failed to flock to the shuttle exhibition featuring such compelling educational offerings as "activities is to assist in the development of issues of nutrition and hygiene at home" (an actual quote from their website) - the leasing company declared bankruptcy and washed their hands of the space shuttle completely.
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The Buran Gift shop where you could buy soviet space ship themed football jerseys, in case you needed one of those
One of four people listed on the lease, described as a business partner of the Prime Minister, also claims he never knew he was a director of the company, which went on to cause a lot more problems.
This whole debacle presented a slight issue for the cash strapped Russian authorities, who had now only been paid $100,000 for the 9 year lease of the shuttle instead of the $600,000 they were owed. Eventually the decision was made to abandon the once $1 billion Soviet pride and joy in a Sydney carpark, where it resided for a year under a small tarpaulin.
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Failed attempts to be rid of the shuttle included a 12 day auction hosted by an LA radio station, where listeners were offered the chance to buy the shuttle for $6 million, however all bids turned out to be pranks and the shuttle remained.
Multiple attempts were also made to sell the shuttle to Tom Cruise, with the exacerbated movie star's representatives repeatedly telling the insistent traders that he was not interested in owning a Russian spaceship.
Eventually a Singaporean group dismantled the shuttle and shipped it overseas, however Russian authorities soon reported they once again had been failed to be paid for the lease. Singaporean representatives responded that they definitely had paid for the shuttle, and that they simply couldn't remember when or how much was paid.
Representing the Russian government, Lawyer Suhaila Turani told the Wall Street Journal “I feel sorry for the Russians. They’re good in space, but they’re very naive in business.”
For a time the shuttle was abandoned in the storage yard of event company Pico, with the company owner telling the Wall Street Journal "I just want this thing out of my life" after three years of being stuck with it.
A few years later the shuttle was found by German journalists dismantled in a junkyard, and it was then bought and shipped to Germany to be put on display a museum, so all's well that ends well (except they dropped it from a crane while trying to set it up, but it polished up okay).
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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months
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i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller
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Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?
Word Count | 1.3K
Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.
Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.
amazing divider by @saradika
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The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.
Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.
Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.
You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.
Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.
“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”
There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.
“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.
“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”
That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”
You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”
“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”
Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”
His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.
He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.
It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.
It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.
Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.
“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.
“Yes, Darlin’?”
“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”
You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.
“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.
“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”
“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”
“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”
“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”
She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.
“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”
“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."
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art · 6 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel
Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.
Below is our interview with Deb!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!
What are your file name conventions?
…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 
What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?
Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.
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yzzart · 5 months
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"Oh, hello, Vogue!"
pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader.
summary: invited by Vogue, you and Tom participate in a famous panel about answering quick questions.
word count: 1.323!
notes: here it is! i focused all day, without drama, on this writing and finished it minutes ago. — enjoy!
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"We're, like, Patrick and Kat!" — Tom nodded in agreement, looking and paying attention to your words and almost forgetting that you were being recorded. — "Anakin and Padmé?" — You wrinkled your nose gracefully.
"Lady and the Tramp?" — He suggested, smiling tenderly and was won over by your laugh and a long touch on his arm made by you.
"Oh my god, yes!"
"Hi, Vogue!" — In a gesture of introducing yourself, you waved to the camera in front of you accompanied by an inviting and friendly smile. — "I'm Y/N."
"And I'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself to the camera and future viewers. — "… and we are about to play Off the Cuff." — He moved the small cards, which contained countless and random questions, and directed his eyes to you.
"Uh, a great entrance!" — You crossed your legs, making yourself comfortable on the chain, and held out the small cards as your eyebrows arched at Tom.
"Thank you, my dear." — He winked at you and took, carefully and planning a bit of suspense, one of the white cards; the topics were random, they could be about TBOSAS, behind the scenes or something related to your relationship. — Everything was a mystery. — "What was the last song you listened to?"
"Hm…" — You rested one of your hands on your chin, trying to fake a thoughtful image. — "A song, which is still unknown to me, that you hummed in the morning." — Your laugh was registered and echoed throughout the room, and Tom was amused when he remembered what happened. — "I should have recorded it!"
"It was a little chorus, and it stuck in my head." — He explained, placing the small card in a reserved place next to him. — "I don't remember the name of the song, but it must be saved on my phone" — His eyes fell on you again. — "Then i can sing for you again." — Tom uttered with melody and his lips curving in a shy smile.
"So adorable and romantic" — You tilted your head, with a pleasant and welcoming smile, at your boyfriend finding your words cute. — "Oh, i think i know the answer to that, what is an item you never leave the house without?" — Your hands shook the small card, waiting for your boyfriend's response.
"You definitely know the answer!" — Tom stated in slurred words accompanied by a laugh. — "In New York, the key to my motorcycle and i have it all the time." — His chin bowed a little. — "And maybe, in the future, in your bag."
"One day i'll ride it, you can be sure." — One of the cameras focused on her face, capturing her words, or rather, a promise that you would love to keep one day.
"And i'll be there, my love." — Blyth took another card. — "Among all the characters' looks in the film, which one would you wear?"
"Definitely, all the looks worn by Tigris." — You moved your hands. — "In addition to being beautiful, they seem to be so comfortable, especially the one where she talks to Coriolanus after he tells her about Lucy Gray." — The image of the aforementioned scene was then shown in the video with editing. — "Hunter looks so beautiful in them."
"Definitely." — He agreed
"With all the sets and locations in the film, which one was your favorite?" — Another card was discarded by you. — "Tell us!" — His voice sounded curious and excited by the older man's response.
"Hm, i loved recording them all." — Tom turned his eyes to an invisible fixed point. — "But, i think i choose the cabin." — His attention returned to you. — "Even with those mosquitoes and little bugs that i've never seen in my life."
"You were scared of most." — Your laughs came in sync.
"It was impossible not to be scared!" — Tom added. — "There was one that almost got into my shirt and another in the river." — Taking another card, Tom read the words written on it and continued with a peculiar and curious expression. — "Name one unforgettable thing i've ever done for you." — The question came out slowly, delicately and with a touch of enthusiasm; and several moments, memories flashed in his mind. — "I'm excited for this."
"My god, it's impossible to give just one answer." — A slightly euphoric and nervous question left your lips, and you laughed nervously as you tried to think and choose just one of the moments and deeds that Tom has done for you. — "It's so hard to choose one." — And it wasn't exaggeration or drama.
"You don't have to think so much, darling." — Tom's voice calmed your mind so tight and focused on the answer; nervousness was visible on your face. — "I see the gears in your head locking up." — He joked, trying to relax you and leaving the cards in his lap and resting one of his hands on your leg.
Finally, something landed in your mind; It was completely automatic. — Like a lamp being turned on when touched.
"Well, it's recent, but, it's stuck in my head!" — You started. — "Ah, during the L.A premiere and you were wearing a pendant necklace and there was my initial." — The way you responded was sweet, soft and passionate in front of the camera lenses and people in the room. — "And i was speechless, just admiring that little piece and feeling like the most loved person in the world." — You sighed, with your eyes shining against the oldest's blue orbs.
"In my world, you're." — Tom confessed, looking directly into his eyes and his hand still remained on his leg. — "It was a surprise and i was so excited that i wanted to show it to you ahead of time." — That tall, young British man smiled with passion, which burned in his chest and had no embarrassment in showing it.
"A secret that no one knows and can now be revealed?" —Another slightly peculiar question.
"I have a photo, actually, a polaroid in my wallet." — Tom ran his hands through the pockets of his pants, looking for what he had mentioned, but, from his disappointed frown, the object was not present. — "It's not here, so it must be in your bag."
"100% chance." — Your head nodded, nodding in confirmation. — "Which photo is it?" — You asked, curious and wanting to see her later.
"One of the ones Rachel took backstage and it quickly became one of my favorites." — Without specification, several photos scrolled through your head. — "It was in the forest, and you were wearing a helmet, that of Coriolanus, of peacekeeper." — Oh, that!
"I think I even posted it on Instagram!" — Either it was still in your gallery, with a favorite star next to it, or, actually, in your feed. — "She's so adorable, i had her as the wallpaper on my phone for a long time."
"Now, that one I know very well." — Your boyfriend looked at the card between his fingers and then at you. — "A song that reminds me." — Tom bit his lip, vibrant and with the answer on the tip of his tongue.
"Definitely Daylight by Taylor Swift." — You pointed your index finger in his direction, thinking about more songs or explaining why you chose her. — "It's impressive how you manage to fit so well into almost all of her songs.
"And in all of our playlists, you always, always add this song." — He wasn't lying. — "I'm sure it'll be in my Spotify retrospective."
"Oh, and also that line." — You sat down in the chair again. — "In a world of boys, he's a gentleman." — Tom's ears, and those of some people behind the cameras, were witnesses to your quick and small singing; a lyric, which was also from Taylor, where fans marked it and made a point of putting it in each of his edits. — They've already shared it with you in your DM and you've already saved some videos. — "There are so many songs, i can't choose just one."
"Perfect." — Tom murmured, as his deeply, crystal clear irises admired and contemplated you.
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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months
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Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9
Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader 
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
horny and angsty? yes pls.
NSFW. 18+.
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Miguel wasn't lying
He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.
You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.
"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”
“Always. I always have been.”
The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.
“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.
It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.
Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.
“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.
“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.
“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.
Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.
“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.
“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.
“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.
"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.
“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.
“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”
“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.
“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.
Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.
Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.
"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.
"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.
“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.
You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.
You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.
Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.
“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.
Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.
“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.
“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.
“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.
“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.
“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.
But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.
“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.
“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.
Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.
An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.
"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.
You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.
The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.
“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.
Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.
“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.
“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.
“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.
"Yeah..”
You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.
-
next chapter is gonna be the last!
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goldenempyrean · 10 days
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Spring Showers
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〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.
You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.
As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.
Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.
Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.
You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.
The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.
As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.
Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.
Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.
As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.
You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.
As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.
You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.
Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.
You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.
Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”
Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.
You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.
As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.
As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…
But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.
You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.
“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.
After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.
You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.
“For fucks sake!”
There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.
As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.
You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.
With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.
Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.
Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.
Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.
“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.
You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”
“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”
Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.
“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”
Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.
She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.
“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.
“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”
You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.
“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.
“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.
Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.
“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.
Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.
As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”
She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.
Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.
Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.
But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”
You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.
“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.
"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”
“Thanks.”
“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”
You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”
“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”
As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.
Who could ask for more?
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saiidahyunie · 2 months
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don’t go insane
hirai momo x fembodyguard!reader || fluff ; smut 
synopsis: you get assigned to protect your world famous girlfriend again—but an incident occurs one night that will change how you approach the bed from now on. 
warnings: smut ; cursing ; more smut ; mentions of food ; alcohol ; spanking ; praise ; edging ; smut again ; overstimulation ; degrading ; slight belt play? ; bondage ; dacryphilia ; mmmmmm smut and smut hehe! ; bottom momo ; whipped reader for a quick second ; [redacted] appears (again) ; might/might not be proofread ; i think i cleared the checklist ??
a/n: for @gayforminatozaki, the direct sequel of standing next to you .
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the cool morning air of paris meets you, standing on a balcony with a french pressed coffee to your lips.
how fitting. 
you scout the few amounts of people down on the street below your apartment that were going about in their daily lives. you see a woman enter a bakery with another person cruising down on their moped wearing a cute baby blue helmet zipping past your vision. 
another sip of your coffee passes through your lips, finishing the last bits of it before you were just now holding a simple empty cup that said “for the missus” with a lipstick mark under the text. you scoffed at the cup of choice, knowing that it had came as a set that was a welcoming gift for the person that you were assigned under. 
sighing out in relaxation, you gaze over the skyline where the eiffel tower was making its presence known, with the arc de triomphe also standing tall behind in the distance on this bright morning under the warm sun.
you turn your head back inside, the sheets unmade from the amount of movement that was made in the bed last night—your side clearly left imprinted on the mattress and pillows, along with the pool of clothes that were scattered across the floor from last night’s event.
suit trousers laid flat, the dress shirt on the chair, your necktie on the headboard of the bed. it was the complete opposite to your current attire of grey sweatpants with a white crop top shirt. god it was definitely an evening for the books. another pair of clothes were off on the tile floor next to the bathroom, a path seen leading further into the room, it’s occupant still fast asleep on their side of the bed. 
the person sleeping their heart’s content away in question? none other than your famous girlfriend, momo. 
unlike your side of covers, hers exposed her bare back to you, hints of red marks and hickeys all over like a canvas painting that was curated by yours truly.
but how did we get to this exact moment currently? let’s rewind a bit back to explain how you and her ended up the morning after in a paris penthouse suite. 
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not long after you and momo hooked up following the chrome hearts incident back in new york city, momo finished up the remaining tour stops in the US with ease. the only new catch however was that you and her kept your relationship secret behind the scenes. 
most of the nights would be filled with endless sex with soft pillow talks in the morning, show preparations filled with stolen kisses when no one else was looking, staying right by her side when escorting her through different areas—hand on her back or a finger linked with hers.
the two of you really enjoyed the time spent together on the free days, momo being the free spirt that she was going crazy with shopping and you carrying most of her new clothes that she couldn’t wait to try on for herself and you—only for it to be torn off her body minutes later when you couldn’t stop eyefucking each other. 
in all of the moments shared, time was the greatest enemy in the end. her tour had finished and you would be sent back to another posting while momo would have her much needed time off. 
it hurt to finally be separated after realizing the feelings you had for her, but you knew that she had the strings to pull you back to her for another event sometime later in the year, so the agreement of being in a long-distance relationship was the solution for now. 
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at the airport, you ensured to keep your bodyguard image once yoona had managed to get everyone situated in momo’s team. while she was doing that, momo pulled you away from the logistical atmosphere to a nearby photobooth. you laughed at her silly idea, but she insisted on making one last memory before leaving back home. 
“this is so teenage corny, but i wouldn't mind having one last memento from you.” you say to momo, sitting down on the far end of the small booth, arm wrapped around her waist while she tapped away on the screen to get the photo machine working. 
“something for us to keep, and a little reminder of you.” momo says sweetly, you press your lips to her jaw that makes her mewl cutely at the affectionate side that she managed to bring out of you. 
you and momo do a wide variety of poses in the six frames that were set up for you two. the first three being funny and cute poses of pressing each other’s faces and hugging, and the last three being more intimate with kisses on cheeks with the last one being a proper lip lock to seal it. 
yoona stands outside a luggage store with karina, looking for the two of you while she spots you two walking, sharing a quick laugh while momo was holding two cups of coffee—clearly one of them for yoona as you stood behind her, scanning the people walking past you while momo handed the cup. 
“our flight’s leaving in about an hour, but we have first class so we can board a little bit early than expected.” yoona announces to the three of you. momo pouts her lips with those thick nerdy glasses that were just for show and not for prescription, your cheeks forming a dimple realizing that the time was now growing short. 
“if anything yoona, we’re pretty much set over here. another team will escort you guys to the gate, but this is it for us.” karina says, your eyes turning towards her while she said that to momo’s manager. 
“do you mind if you can bring us to the person that’s helping your team before you have to leave?” yoona asks, shouldering her expensive handbag in her arm that was slipping off. 
“sure, y/n you want to come?” 
“it’s fine, i have to get in touch with nayeon for a debrief.” you reply, holding a hand up with karina acknowledging your refusal. “you can go, i’ll meet you back at the terminal.” 
karina nods, motioning yoona to follow her. 
momo bent down to tie her shoelace real quick, but that was a fake cover since she stood up after you tapped her shoulder, wrapping you into a hug that makes you want to go with her back home. you could use the break anyway from your bodyguard post for a bit and you did say to nayeon that you’d be taking a temporary vacation once you and the rest of your team got back. 
“momo…” you mutter, her hair over your mouth and nose as her grip tightened around you, not wanting to let go at all. “you have to go baby.” 
“i know, it’s just- i’m gonna miss you…” she mumbles into your shoulder, fighting back tears before loosening her hug just a bit to meet your face. 
“we’ll be together again, but you deserve the break.” you comfort her, patting her head as she hugs your waist once more, pressing her lips to yours for a quick kiss—one feeling that you’ll never get enough of the next time you’re assigned with her again. 
“i guess i have to go now…” she says defeatedly, you grab her hand for a quick second before she stars walking away, fishing for your slip of pictures from the photobooth and a sharpie that you always had on the ready, scribbling on the back of it with something. 
“give me your photo slip and take this.” you instruct momo as she hands you her copy of the pictures, trading for the one that you just wrote on. 
“what’s this?” 
“my personal phone number,” you answer, “i keep two phones; one for work and the other for outside of my job.” 
momo chuckles a bit, happy with the gesture you just did to ensure that you and her would keep in touch. 
“now get going silly, you’ll miss your flight.” you say to momo, tapping her shoulder as she gives you a couple more quick kisses, each contact much sweeter than the last before she pulls away.
“i hope you know that i love you right?” 
“you don’t have to tell me twice.” 
she smiles at you, lunging for one last kiss before starts running backwards to the gate, waving at you like a lost child at the mall. the black beanie the back of her head finally disappearing in the crowd after a few seconds. 
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everything felt way too good to be true, only for you to be brought back down to the earth. the miles and miles of land and oceans tearing you and momo apart for what seemed to be like forever—but in reality it was just for the summer. 
momo’s tour had concluded in may, and she had the whole summer to herself back doing various things with her close friends and family; traveling around the world and seeing the new sights of countries that she dreamed of going back to when she was a kid. 
as for you, nayeon let you off the hook with that long overdue vacation that you proposed back at the chrome hearts store. sure, she didn’t want you to be on temporary leave since you were basically the best in the business at doing your job correctly. speaking of correctly, that dumbass heechul was finally kicked off to the curb and shipped to a different celebrity service that was more well known for dealing with delinquents—perfect for his line of work really. 
during the summer, you decided to use your well paid time off doing a bunch of works that you put on hold when you first got the bodyguard job. this was not limited to drifting in custom-made cars, a getaway trip with your close friend sakura to jeju island, and even doing a simple modeling gig; courtesy of momo for helping you get set up. 
you and momo kept in touch through texts and facetime calls whenever it was possible despite the difference in place and time, but if was worth fucking up your sleep schedule for her, then you could never complain about the increase of caffeine in your system. 
“so when are you supposed to go back to work?” 
you hum while reaching in the cupboard for a mug to use for your homemade root beer float, “i don’t know, nayeon told me that i could come back whenever i feel like since i’ve done a lot more than i initially expected.” you say, turning back to see momo on your screen laying on the bed, the heels of her feet up in the air. 
“they really worked you down, didn’t they?” momo sighs out that makes you chuckle at the thought of it. she knew that you were stressed to a certain degree during her US tour, and luckily she was the one to relieve all of that almost entirely. 
“yeah,” you say, “but on the brightside, i finally got back to some of my hobbies outside of work.” 
“hmm, like what?” 
“oh you know, sleeping in a whole lot more compared to waking up at 5 in the morning. or better yet, being able to go out for some drinks and not having to worry about a hangover the morning after.” you list, pointing a finger up in the air like some idea with a dumb smile struck over your face. 
“you’re so cute.” momo laughs out, “i can’t believe you have this side of you i didn’t expect to see.” 
“oh shut up, you’re one of the few people i can’t get mad at now.” 
“good.” 
the both of you share a laugh together over the phone, sipping the last couple chunks of ice cream mixed with your root beer, stirring it with a spoon while momo shifts herself into the bed more, almost getting ready to fall asleep. 
“i miss you.” you say to momo, tilting your head to match hers that was on her side now, tapping her cheek on the phone screen. “it sucks that we have to keep this dating thing a whole secret for the sake of our companies.” 
“at least it's not a dating ban, but i miss you too.” momo replies, eyes drooping with the wave of sleepiness slowly taking over. 
“i’ll let you go sleep now.”  you softly say while momo moans slightly through her covers. “dream of me when you can, yeah?” 
“always.” momo murmurs out, waving small with her three fingers over the cover as you wave at your phone screen, kissing to the air while momo ends the call after more than four hours. (with all this free time that you and momo were granted, it was justified) 
“she’s so cute.” you say to yourself, standing up from the table before cleaning up a bit around your kitchen before packing it up for the night. 
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once the summer had passed, things got back into full swing. momo was in and around the studio working on her next project while you ease yourself back into the bodyguard position by training the newbies that had come up through the ranks.
you had a smug smile on your face with the new people being introduced to your unit; chaeyoung worked under a previous agency but switched over since the pay was better. wonwoo was also a returner that was supposed to be with your team on momo’s previous assignment, but you got heechul instead which was a bummer because of logistical reasons. and there was tzuyu, who didn’t seem like the more intimidating type—once you saw her skills with firearms and martial arts, that ended the questions faster than they could be formed. 
during one team briefing, nayeon pulled you out of it for a quick word. granted, you hated those meetings anyway so nayeon was doing you a favor by bailing you out so that you didn't have to talk about all of the financials that this bodyguard job demanded for better equipment and all of that special jazz. 
“this better be good.” you say to nayeon, leaning your hand against the wall with the other on your hip as nayeon parts a wisp of hair from her face before seeing a grin with a hint of her fixed bunny teeth. 
“we got a posting for you. pick five others to tag along in your team and we’ll get all of the details sorted out.” 
“you know i’m taking karina, mingyu, and wonwoo this time. but let's add tzuyu and keji too.” 
“that’s why i like working with you y/n.” nayeon says, tapping your shoulder, letting out a scoff at the compliment you received just now.
“is there a catch?” 
“sadly, this is a double-op assignment. we’ll be working with jihyo’s agency.” 
“that’s not bad, she does her job pretty well like you actually.” 
you and nayeon glance over to see joshua blitz past by, running papers in enclosed cardboard pipes on a cart before returning back to the conversation. 
“so jihyo’s team is in on this also?” you ask, rubbing your hand alongside your face. “explains the lag in details being exchanged.” 
“it’s fine,” nayeon replies, waving her hand up to not make you worry. “jihyo and i are good friends, so i expect nothing less from you or her team.” 
“where’s the assignment?” 
“france, for paris fashion week.” 
“oui, oui.” you hint at nayeon with a wink. “that means i can dress a little more fancier now.” 
“should’ve done modeling instead then.” 
“don’t tempt me now…” 
an exchanged laugh was shared before nayeon brought you back to that stupid meeting that was already ending, but you were excited to travel again—this time, to one of the most stylish cities in the world.
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while that was happening, momo was back in her luxurious apartment sharing a brunch meal with sana, her close friend of 10 years, catching up with whatever life nonsense had happened while momo was out of the country. 
“so that’s how it happened?” sana asks, tossing a grape into her mouth while momo was texting yoona about some logistical details regarding the expected fashion week appearance. 
“pretty much, but i had a crush on her since the first time i went on tour, but there was something about her the next time i saw her that made me want to jump at the opportunity.” 
“and you guys have been dating for?” 
“roughly about fiveish–six months since may? so it hasn’t been that long.” momo answers, putting her phone down on the coffee table that showed her homescreen of you and her on a day off in los angeles, the blurry image of you and her hugging that was probably taken by yoona. 
she also shows a professional picture of you working to sana—an image of you at the front while momo was behind wearing sunglasses along with a hoodie to keep her appearance hidden to the public. 
“she’s pretty hot, i’ll give you that.” sana chides, zooming in at your broad stature, the blazer on your body well rested in every noticeable aspect in the shoulders and waist, the earpiece clearly seen in your left ear and your prada glasses. 
“the best is what they say about in terms of her job, now i’m trying to have y/n assigned with me every chance i can.” 
“you are so gay, and horny.” 
“you’re into that too sha, don’t even talk.” 
“the new miu miu ambassador everyone will be talking about in a week or so. can’t wait to see the pictures from that.” sana says, downing a glass of orange juice while momo hits her with a pillow from the couch.
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planning phases are always a pain, but luckily you’re not part of the management end of things with your agency since nayeon’s team did most of the heavy duty business like clockwork and once everything was all set in stone—the green light for paris fashion week was under way. 
momo was walking around her spacious walk in closet, trying to get some of luggage filled up with different clothes and combinations to wear before and after the necessary promotions with miu miu, grabbing a couple of miu miu clothes that she already owned prior as well as tossing a pair of flared leggings over her head. the sound of a trap beat is being heard from the tv in the living room serving as background noise only for her phone to ring off a notification that makes her stop what she’s doing. 
at the same time, you were in the middle of your workout at your apartment’s gym, finishing up a set of pullups before you heard the vibration of your phone on the bench over the heavy rap song blasting over you. dropping from the bar, you walk to the bench where your gym bag and phone were at, fishing for the towel to wipe the sweat off of you, staring at the mirror of your body build. you kept yourself in shape, the tattoo on your left arm in all of its glory as well as the toned muscles from the shoulders, arms, and abs. 
you look down at your phone to see the text from nayeon in the groupchat with the other members in your team for this assignment, the link attached from her message that consisted of the fashion week schedule, travel itinerary, and a few other things that you would look at later once you got back to your place.
so you grab your secondary phone for personal uses, showing a picture on the lockscreen of momo in her element during her concert that you snuck backstage with the home wallpaper being the slip of paper from the photobooth at the airport before texting sakura who was asking for your opinion on the beanies that she’s crocheting. 
back at momo’s apartment, she plops back down on her moonpit couch, wiggling her feet along with the song in the background with two weeks worth of luggage ready at the kitchen island before getting another text notification, but this time it was from yoona. 
you’re getting a post workout shake ready in the kitchen, drying your hair with a towel in your all black outfit of a simple oversized shirt and sweats, feet tapping along the hardwood floor while you subconsciously made a lap around the kitchen island waiting for the blender to stop mixing when your work phone gets another text that has you looking again. 
momo reads yoona’s message, confirming the flight ticket to paris while your text gets the final confirmation of your next posting. the both of you smile at your phone screens that can only mean one thing while the both of you switched over to the message app in less than a millisecond.
you and momo are finally seeing each other again in another corner of the world. 
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the welcoming party at the paris airport wasn’t out of the ordinary.
if anything, it was actually a chill approach once you heard that momo’s team had landed from their thirteen hour flight. you, mingyu and keji were waiting for karina and tzuyu to loop back along with momo’s group. 
“this should be a fun week.” mingyu says, rubbing his hands together that was clothed in woolen gloves. 
“i feel like you’re not as enthusiastic unlike last time.” you reply, fixing your ear piece and turtleneck that had a sleek silver chain hanging around your neck. 
“well, it’s been a while since we had you at the helm so—”
“y/n, why do you have jewelry on your attire?” keji asks while pointing at the chain that made mingyu stifle a laugh at the surprise question. 
“keji, she’s the leader. she has some leniency with what she wants to do with herself.” mingyu answers the question for you, smiling from keji’s dumbfounded reaction. 
“alright you two, that’s enough. we got eyes on twelve.” you say when you saw the small band of people approach you at the terminal door. the flashing lights and people clamoring left you unfazed as the secondary team of guards parted them away from the main centerpiece. 
the paparazzi crowd presented momo to you that was straight out of a movie scene; she was layered in a thick leather hoodie with both hands in her pocket. even with sunglasses on to protect her from the bombardment of flashes coming from the cameras, you felt her eyes locked on to yours, that smug smile she always beared almost kicking you in the gut. just even in close proximity, there was a power that she held that made your world stop for just a second. 
you catch yourself smiling, and this girl is gonna fucking drive you crazy. 
flashing a look to mingyu and keji, the both got into a standard formation to slot themselves into the pack, keeping most of the fans and camera people at bay once momo got to the door on the way out. you look at your watch to ensure that everything was right on schedule and right at nine thirty on the dot, the momo frenzy has finally touched down in paris. 
“everything’s holding up from back here.” karina says through your ear piece, waving her hand in the back row where you could barely see her. 
“alright, prep the team for phase two.” you reply back, showing a hand signal that prompted karina to relay the message to the other workers that helped out guarding momo to disperse the crowd surrounding them, clearing a pathway the the entryway of the bulky black suv and opening the door for yoona and momo. 
the two girls flash a look at you, even with a straight face you couldn't help but wink at the two of them—the notion of you being assigned to them again was a much needed reassurance before getting into the car. you’re already thinking of how to sneak away with the talk of the town in the city of love, but that will come for later. 
it’s all the usual at this point, closing the car door before your assigned driver asks you about the hotel location in french, in which you reply back flawlessly with the matching language. momo takes of her hood and sunglasses while you were in the conversation, listening to how the french words rolled off your tongue like butter—biting her lip a bit at how damn good you were at your job.
“nice to see you two again.” you say looking back at momo and yoona sitting in the backseat smiling to see your face. “been a minute hasn’t it?” 
“i was worried that you weren’t gonna be back in time for this, but thank you for being here.” yoona says to you, placing her bag in the middle seat between her and momo. 
“please, this is what i do for a living.” 
“and it’s also my job to keep your little secret relationship here under wraps.” 
“yoona, you’re already doing so much as it is and we’re thankful for that.” you say to the manager, tilting your head off to the side while the car was rolling along the streets of paris. 
“so what’s the plan y/n?” momo asks you, taking your ear piece out to reduce the back and forth chatter between karina and wonwoo on the radio channel. you hum while looking through the main windshield as the suv weaved at every turn and straight on the way to your next destination. 
“the plan is to have you guys and my people checked in. after that, we’ll give you guys some downtime before going out to have dinner. since the fashion show isn’t for another day, you basically have a free day before the actual event, so whatever it is that you want to do is up to you or yoona for that matter.” 
momo hugs her legs on the backseat, getting more comfy leaning next to the door. “there’s this restaurant somewhere around here, and they have some mean oysters that they serve. you think we can go there yoona?” 
“sure, let's just get you situated in the hotel first before i put in a reservation.” 
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when your small convoy of cars arrives at the breezeway outside leading into the hotel lobby, you can immediately tell that the inside was subjected to a certain theme. none of the hotel guests seemed to bat an eye that a world famous celebrity was staying here given the increase of bodies in security when yoona was getting momo checked in at the main desk. 
a 1950’s victorian theme was spread about in various areas of the lobby. the paintings on the wall, the couches and chairs for the guests to sit on have a more regal theme to them rather than saying old fashioned. you had a knack for a sense of nostalgia for an era of time that you weren’t even a part of let alone born in, but it was things like these that really kept you captivated—much so like getting lost in an art museum and momo knows this about you very well. 
momo was already called over by yoona at the front desk to verify the hotel stay, then was shooed off jokingly while karina was with the manager to get your team situated too. planning and logistics, you thanked nayeon in your head for hiring karina in the first place who could handle all of the paperwork stuff. mingyu and wonwoo worked well together, so you kept it that way and sent them outside to keep on the lookout for jihyo’s team that she sent over while tzuyu and keji were with some of momo’s management and indulging in a lovey conversation. 
and there you were, next to momo again, not showing any hint of your relationship with her whatsoever since you and her agreed to keep it a secret until after ‘work hours’ but that wasn’t limited to exchanging quick glances and looks so filled with love. the both of you were in your own element constantly to the point that even the simple acts of doing in and out of your job was more than enough for momo to be crazy about you too. 
she sees you off in the distance, hanging near the elevators with another extra guard member that was with your team talking about details of guidelines and all that before the guard member stepped away from you to tend to something else. momo then points her phone towards your direction, zooming it in precisely that it gets you and the fancy vase full of white lilacs taking a picture that captured your back that was exceptionally shown from the blazer.
momo then edits this in her photos for what seemed to be a few seconds before she felt an alluring presence over her. “that pic isn’t me i’m assuming?”
“it is, you’re too fucking fine in that suit for me.”
"all for you baby, remember that." you reply, with momo looking up at you matching the same smirk on your face.
you knelt down to meet her gaze, the wolf cut in all of its glory along with her small hint beauty marks on both of her cheeks. those plump, kissable lips are making it dangerously hard for you to not steal a peck with everyone possibly watching.
"you look wayyyyy too good in casual clothes..." you say to momo, leaning into her face from your lowered position. "maybe we should just get away from everyone here, just the two of—"
“y/n, come up?” 
pulling back with a defeated sigh as momo nicks a lock of hair behind her earlobe, you press on your earpiece to answer the comm.
“go ahead karina.”
“momo is officially checked in, but jihyo’s team just arrived outside the hotel right now.” 
you look over to the front desk, yoona holds up a set of keycards before looking back to momo nodding that everything was all set up for her. the two of you meet with karina and yoona before the elevators, handing her the projected itinerary that was drafted up by nayeon. 
“go on up to the rooms. jihyo’s team is taking over for your guys' dinner tonight.” 
“what about you?”
“i’ll have to meet with whoever jihyo sent for this double assignment, but you guys have my number to keep in touch if something comes up.”
yoona nods her head, reminded by how much star power momo held with just her pure existence. giving momo a look before cocking her head to the elevators. 
“we’ll see you guys soon, but enjoy your dinner.” you say while you and karina give the pair a small wave before walking away to the front doors of the hotel lobby to meet with jihyo’s bodyguard team.
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knock knock 
in your dark room that was only lit by the faint light of the lamp on your hotel desk, you couldn’t help but wonder who was at the door or why they would be knocking at this hour.
walking up to the frame and looking through the peephole, you see that no one was actually there—now you would just dismiss this and just plop black on the bed, but there was a premonition that someone was there that you just didn’t know. 
so you open the door, unlinking the chain lock before opening it wider to see the welcoming body; only to be lunged at by the supposed intruder, arms linking around your neck while yours fall to a slim waist, their lips meeting with yours. 
suddenly your back meets the wall of your hotel room, the taste and scent of peaches filling your senses on your nose and lips. the perpetrator pulls away from you for a quick breath before letting out a muffled moan into your mouth again, making your brain hazy from the feeling of their lips and your hands roaming all over their back. 
“wha–” another groan passes through the small space between your faces. “what are you doing here?” you ask the person pinning you against the wall, smiling against their lips. a slip of your tongue was enough to incite a small moan, in addition to gripping their ass through the baggy jeans they were wearing. 
they pull away, leaving your eyes half-lidded—their hands slowly receding away from your face while you add a bit of a tighter grip around their waist, rubbing the small divot in their lower back. 
“i wanted to see you.” momo says sweetly, lowering her hood to reveal her bare face much closer to you, a soft smile across her lips that makes you dip your head down trying to resist the absolute cuteness that was displayed in front of you. 
you’re grinning, hard, and you’re trying not to show momo how badly you’re folding as momo pulls you in for a hug–the kind of hug that’s suffocating you from the pressure, the one where you embrace your lover when you meet at the airport after being away for so long. you shouldn’t be this whipped for her, but you are, and that’s the reality. 
“do you realize that you’ll get in trouble if they see us together?” you ask momo, the door finally closing from the hallway to shroud the both of you in darkness again before flipping the light switch to the hallway in your hotel room. “besides, it’s past your curfew and we have a busy day tomorrow already.” 
“it’s okay,” momo assures. “i think you can be a little bit lenient with me can’t you?” wrapping herself around you again, catching another whiff of the calming scent of honey in her hair. 
you sigh, melting at her touch. even if she was a little bit shorter than you, she knew how to make you vulnerable with so much sincerity and care—the best kind of protection in momo’s case really, “you’re really stretching your luck here momo, but i won’t be the one at fault if you don’t wake up in time later.” 
“stretching huh? you can help me with that.” 
“god, you’re something else.” you chuckle out. (you’re seeing what she’s implying here, but you’re not letting her get to you that easily.) 
“so let’s go then. i wanna show you around for a bit.” 
“and where exactly do you even plan on going at this hour? it’s almost midnight.” 
“maybe if you get dressed, we can get going before the others realize that we’re not actually here.” momo assures, prompting you to change your attire into something more comfortable and inconspicuous. she sees your nike sports bra that’s covered by a shirt layered with an oversized hoodie, your legs that was occupied with sweatpants now in different color to help match the look along with your casual shoes that you used for morning runs. 
finally you’re ready, and momo giggles at the sight of you fixing your shoes before you flash a very unamused look, closing the gap between your faces again before opening the door out to the hotel hallway. 
“i’im giving us forty-five minutes, so this date better be worth it.” 
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it’s wasn’t really a bad scenario to be getting lost in the streets of paris at midnight. 
the city is so much prettier at night. you’ve seen the pictures from various twitter accounts and pinterest posts, but to experience it live and in person was a completely different experience. you got lost in the various structures of architecture, the cobblestone pathways that were used as the main roadways, and even the vintage aspect of the closed stores and cafe shops. 
a pretty night indeed, in addition to walking along with your extremely pretty girlfriend as well. 
your hotel was a block away from the eiffel tower, and people were still out and about getting pictures and videos of the old landmark flash scattered lights that illuminate about every fifteen or so minutes. you and momo walk hand in hand along the parkside, talking about the many things that you two did over the summer while being apart, filling in on what the other has been up to besides texting and calling on a regular basis. 
she’s taking pictures of you with the tower to share with your parents back home, you’re taking pictures of her—it’s all so candid and a much needed last minute date that was spontaneous. you didn’t want to consider it to be stress relief, but momo was a breath of fresh air in your life that was clouded with the constant loop of work, work, work, and work. 
there’s a nearby night market in a plaza on the way back that caught the attention of momo. specifically, the vintage clothes that were hanging alongside the canopy on display and momo trying to negotiate which pieces to buy for her own closet while your held her handbag still in a guarding position, but with a much more relaxed stature. she’s laughing with the vendor, and you’re nothing but heart eyes for her. 
forty-five minutes went by in a flash, and you’re back in the hotel hallway of momo’s room. your hand is laced with hers while the other was holding a paper bag filled with clothes that she bought from that market. 
you’re at the door of her room, keycard pressed against the lock and she walks in, handing her the bag along with a few other items that you held onto for her which were just additional essentials. checking the time on your watch, it was almost one in the morning and the calltime to get everyone set up and ready was between 7 to 8, so it wasn’t too bad but you’re in no place to complain. 
“thank you,” you breathe out, standing in the middle of the doorway like a girl scout selling cookies, staring at momo’s bare face again, her eyes open wide like boba balls with that same soft smile again. “i needed this, so much.” 
momo doesn’t say anything, she just steps into your bubble again, arms enveloping you. every worry that you carried through your bones suddenly vanished at the presence of momo’s heartbeat next to your chest. her hands find themselves on both sides of your face, lips coming in contact with yours again, savoring any last bit you could before letting her off for the night. 
“you are…” the words are muttering out of your mouth, momo’s lips brushing against yours as she hums, the feeling of her giddiness spreading to you. she pecks you again to shut you up. 
“sometimes you talk too much y/n.” momo says, pushing you away and out of her door before getting ready to close the door. “get some rest babe, you’re gonna need it.” 
before she could close the door on you, you lean for another kiss, “see you in the morning.” you say to momo, giving a quick one again before you’re waving her down the hallway. you didn’t have to say anything or need to, the actions you had spoke more louder than your words ever could and momo understood this, doing a little heel tap before entering the elevator down to your hotel room’s level. 
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the main event of paris fashion week, and this was just the opening. 
“shin ryujin.” you say, clasping the younger woman’s hand with an iron grip, “last i heard, you were a liaison for jihyo and now look at you; primary team leader for her agency.” 
“dreamt big, and got the promotion.” she beams, flashing glances to wonwoo and karina who were behind you in front of the hotel lobby waiting for the suv’s to arrive for today’s activities. 
“i believe you know the plan for today y/n?” 
“pretty much straightforward, you’ll be with us and we’ll meet with your people at the venue already.” 
ryujin nods at the memorization, “are you sure that’s all?” 
you nick your head off to the side with a laugh, “how could i forget about the after party activities?” 
right on cue, yoona calls you from the spinning door, the rest of momo’s entourage walking out with momo already prepared in her look for tonight. it was a simple blue denim croptop and jeans that hugged all of the curves on her body in all of the right places. her back was exposed for everyone to see and her makeup didn’t look to be too extensive–much like a simple touch up and her wolf cut looked dashing when it was all properly styled, her bangs were a signature part of her look and my god she looked good. 
okay, stay on task here, you shouldn’t be leering on the job anyway. 
so you turn around to give the three people behind you a quick word, “you know the teams, you know the assignments, keep the radio channels open in case anything pops up. are we clear?” 
“crystal.” ryujin and karina both say in unison, while wonwoo simply nods at you. 
“good, let’s have a good day, people.” you say before dispersing into your respective cars heading off towards the venue for the fashion show. 
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when the group arrives at the venue, you immediately hear the murmurs from the crowds standing in the barricades increase to more screams once you open the door for momo to walk out. the entire place went bonkers as momo made her way past the red carpet, stopping for a photo op that showed her outfit again and the waves of flashes were just everything thrown at her all at once. 
you stand off to the side, watching momo indulge in the limelight before she walks over to your direction after being prompted by mingyu to proceed walking indoors. momo flashes a smile at you while you raised your arm to the side to guide her past the door when ryujin comes up in your earpiece. 
“y/n?” 
“go ahead ryujin.” 
“i got a text from karina, she said that their suv broke down on the way here.” 
that can’t be good.
“how bad in terms of time are we talking?” you ask ryujin through your wrist, trying to mask the sound so that there’s no interference, walking indoors to better the quality of your talking. 
“shouldn’t be that long, but we’re hoping that they can be here by the time the event is halfway over.” 
“you’re saying that we’ll be short-handed by the time the after party rolls around?” 
“sorry, you know this is out of our control.” 
“i know,” you say with a hand raised up, trying to calm yourself down. “stick to the plan, i’ll get in touch with karina and them when i can.” 
ryujin acknowledges before the earpiece goes silent again with exchanges from other guards from both of your teams. you weren’t the kind of person to be stressed with things like these, but you had an uneasy feeling that if things didn’t go to plan, it struck a bad nerve in your head. 
strike one: have key members in your team deserted leaving you short-handed.
the fashion show however was well organized and thought out. the seating arrangements looked to be in a more open setting with no chairs, but stone seats with the runway already set up. you meet up with keji and tzuyu who were on the other side covering one of the exits, in clear line of sight where momo was sitting. she had her leg crossed over the other that was lady-like, and you observed her as she watched the models showcase the new fall/winter looks that were set to be released in due time. 
“say, didn’t you do modeling y/n?” you hear keji ask you on your right side, earning a chuckle from you that helped ease your mind just a bit. “i could’ve sworn you should be walking on that runway too right now if you wanted to.” 
“are you saying that i can serve like those girls in those oversized suits and dresses?” you ask keji as tzuyu giggles on the opposite end, causing you to roll your eyes at the two rookies that you brought onto this assignment. “maybe i can, but to answer your question, i did do a photoshoot while on vacation.” 
“no way really?” 
“i’ll save showing the pictures when all of this is over.” 
once the showcase was all done and over with, momo was advised to attend the miu miu provided after party that included a dinner and various interactions with other celebrities. again, it wasn’t too crazy but the fact that tonight wasn’t swinging your way in terms of logistical planning, you had to be flexible. 
the dining hall looked way more sophisticated that could be on par with the setup of the fashion showcase. it was more of a lively food spot with a bar attached rather than a usual restaurant, with a lot of seating arrangements spread out across. you find momo sitting in the middle of some fancy table alongside what you assumed was another brand ambassador that miu miu had invited out with wongyoung. their conversation seemed to be lively as the pair shared a smile together over the loud crowd of people around you. 
you find yourself keeping a close eye on her from time to time throughout the dinner. momo looked fully immersed back at the showcase and the dinner, her eyes wide like saucers. she sneaks a few quick glances at you and you’re doing the same, through the camera flashes and your head moving like a swivel to ensure everything is in shape. 
after everyone continued to enjoy themselves with the complimentary dinner provided by the fashion company and organizers, you get pulled off to the side by keji who played messenger via ryujin outside where the management and various workers were outside in a small pavilion. 
“fill me in with what you got.” you say to ryujin, turning away from the two people that she was talking with—automatically assuming that they were her people that she brought over on this double-op assignment. 
“you want the good news or bad news?” 
“is there any difference between the two?” 
ryujin giggles at the banter you’re effortlessly producing. “so bad news is, karina, mingyu, and wonwoo won’t be able to make it tonight.” 
well, shit. 
“the good news is! i have these two with me to help fill you in with the workload.” 
you wished she hadn’t said that. because those two people that ryujin was talking with appeared right behind her—and you’re just forced to deal with it. 
chanyeol, on her left may look like a saint, but you could tell that he was bad news. as for the person on her right side, was someone that you had a vendetta against. you definitely wished that karina and mingyu were in their place in addition to tzuyu and keji.
“heechul,” you say, “i didn’t expect you–” 
“it’s good to see you too y/n,” the sickening man in front of you replies, “i admit that i screwed up, and i’m here to give a sense of consolation with this new role. i promise, my act is clean now, and it’s a new start for me. let me prove that to you and ryujin, please.” 
your blood is straight boiling at the fact that you’re in the presence of this guy, but you have to focus on the task at hand and see the whole week assignment through, but you’re definitely gonna give nayeon a hearing once you get back from paris. 
“now that you guys are acquainted, we’re getting wheels up in about fifteen minutes. y/n and heechul, i’m gonna have you guys grab momo and her team while chanyeol and i get the cars outside.” ryujin instructs you, pointing to the exit with her finger. 
flashing a look at heechul, you cringe at the sight of his smile before rolling your eyes. “you can count on us ryujin.” heechul says before nodding himself off to get in the vibrant crowd. ryujin notices your expression and body language, sensing that something was off with you. 
“is something the matter?” 
“yeah, why the hell is he here with you on this assignment?” 
“y/n, hechul was desprate for a second chance, and jihyo gave it to him.” 
“but–” 
“i’m aware of his past actions, but give him a chance.” 
you sigh out, arguing wasn’t gonna make this assignment any better. “fine,” you say, “just this once.” 
ryujin taps your shoulder before her and chanyeol both walk away from you. this day couldn’t get any worse as it is. 
strike two: find out that one of your past workers is on the same assignment with you and gets you in a more pissy mood.
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from the more expensive, regal fashion showcase and food spot, the location changes to a nightclub setting that was completely cleared out for momo’s entourage. the place named ‘crazy horse paris’ was also a nightly hotspot for club goers on a weekend basis—but this came as a surprise since one of momo’s songs just went platinum in the charts, so it was only right for another small celebration to be held. 
in the midst of all the strobe lights flashing in the club with the firework candles in a cut out record of momo’s song, it was nice to let loose a little bit. the exchange of the provided dinner that was filling was no substituted with small snacks and alcohol. not bad for a successful fashion week outing right?
everyone makes the rounds of the plethora of drinks; beer, wince, hennessey, whiskey, there were a lot of people relaxing on this lovely thursday night. the loud music bumping your eardrums as you’re observing momo’s management taking shots, and even tzuyu and keji who were having a little bit of fun so you’re also keeping an eye on them. 
your arm gets bumped at the bar while watching everyone lose themselves in the music from the dj, and you turn to see that ryujin is offering you a drink. 
“you a heavy?” she asks, taking her offer of the glass of whiskey before raising her glass up for a quick cheers. 
“i’ve had a couple already,” you reply, downing the burning alcoholic drink in one swig, placing the cup down on the bar before sliding it across for the bartender who nods at you for keeping him occupied. “that’s my last one though, can’t be having too much now.” 
“that’s fine,” ryujin says, matching your stature with her body facing towards the dance floor, before she looks down on her watch to see that she received a phone call. “shit, i gotta take this, it’s jihyo.” 
you nod her off, implying that you got everything covered for now but you realize that you haven’t seen momo since the cake celebration. “say, where’s momo?” 
“she’s in one of the private rooms.” ryujin answers, pointing to the small pathway that leads down to the rooms that she just mentioned. you give her one more look as ryujin picks up the phone before heading out of the club outside to take the call. 
not long after, you’re in the hallway of the private rooms, each one with their own door to give a sense of privacy for those groups who did buy it ahead of time. the first three doors were just various groups of people who were already in the club before you and momo’s team arrived, so you didn’t have to worry about them. 
but then you were at door number four. and you could hear momo’s laugh through the cracked opening. 
like the peeping tom that you were (it’s your job to be curious), you peer through the opening a little wider to see momo’s back facing you. she appeared to be dancing to the music that was playing from the tv speakers. her movements looked to be more alluring, seductive. the nerves in your brain are racking with so many questions to why and who is she dancing for. so you sneak in quietly to see two men on the couch, clearly enjoying the show that momo is giving them.
“you guys like what you see?” momo asks, her words are slurred together from the barely coherent sentence. the movement of her hands up her waist, showing off the curves from her different outfit that was a tank top with black biker shorts. 
“i love what i’m seeing here ms. momo, a lot.” 
that voice…there’s no fucking way right? 
“why don’t you give us a little more skin honey?” 
oh, this isn’t good at all. 
momo hums out delightfully, taking off her tank top to reveal a skimpy white push-up bra, fiddling with the latch behind her with one hand before ripping off the undergarment from her body. you immediately shoot straight up, glaring at the two men sitting on the couch, their dress shirts slightly unbuttoned and momo turns around, her bare tits in full display. this was your nuclear bomb, and the explosion was imminent. 
“christ, what the actual fuck you two?!” you spit out, the sight of heechul and chanyeol’s expressions shrinking away now that they’ve been caught. heechul’s caught in your wave of anger again, and this time was much worse than the previous incident. 
“y/n, we—” 
“oh, don’t play that card with me!” you begin, stepping closer to the two disgusting men that were now sitting up, preparing to hear an earful from you, shoving chanyeol into the cushions first before flying a fist to heechul’s face, giving him a proper black eye. “i’ve had enough of your bullshit today!” you yell out before tossing momo her discarded clothes. “put these back on, we’re leaving.” 
“what? already?!” momo whines, half-sober, half-drunk. she’s definitely smashed, but there’s more pressing problems that need to be dealt with. 
you grip her by the arm, pulling her closer to you before your hand snakes down to her waist. the harsh action making momo flustered at your touch when your face is extremely close to hers. the hoodie that she tossed is now being put on by you, giggling uncontrollably at herself because her arms are up in the air before setting the hood on her head to cover her up. “i think we should call it a little early, yeah? what do you think momo?” 
“you’re a party pooper.” momo says, her eyes half closed, still smiling. 
“unbelievable.” you say harshly, tensing your jaw again once you laid eyes on chanyeol and heechul, checking his fingers for blood on his face. you could do a whole lot more damage, but your words are the  most powerful tool in your arsenal, and it won’t be ignored by the higher ups. 
“let’s go.” the anger in your voice not reaching momo since she’s still chuckling even when you’re escorting her out of the private room and into the front of the bar of the club when ryujin comes back from her phone call with jihyo.
“woah, where are you taking momo?” she asks, puzzled at momo’s drunken state while she’s staring at your side profile. 
“i’m taking her back to the hotel personally. she was in a private room with heechul and chanyeol giving them a show.” 
“you’ve gotta be kidding me.” 
“tell yoona that i’ve got this, we can deal with those two knuckleheads later.” 
strike three: find out your girlfriend was almost taken advantage of by two absolute fucking clowns calling themselves bodyguards.
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you’re dragging momo through the hotel hallway, listening to her hums as you place the keycard on the lock, pulling her in and slamming the door immediately after so hard that you might’ve just broke the deadbolt. 
momo stands against the closed door leading to the bathroom, her head is somewhat ringing but still conscious to some extent about her actions realizing that she had done fucked up—
“do you have any idea of the amount of shit that you just put yourself in? letting those two fuckwads have their way with you and you’re just allowing it?” you exclaimed, giving no care for the other hotel guests with the amount of yelling that you’re doing already. 
standing super close in front of momo, the roles are reversed from when she came to see you the day before and your overwhelming heat was slowly growing within—her cunt pulsing at the tone that you’re using as all that she could do was let out a small whimper, shrinking away into the door behind her. 
“y/n," momo slurs out, "i—” 
“one: you’re smashed. two: i might come under fire for what i did to bring you back here, and—” 
you meet momo’s gaze to notice that her eyes were lidded, she’s doing that devilish smirk that’s tugging at the corner of her lips. looking off to the side before you force her to stand straight up, gripping her arm and shoulder, pressing her to the drywall even more. 
momo presses her legs together, she’s never seen you this angry before, especially at her, and she’s liking it. 
so with just a little push, you look at her again at the low groan she lets out, seeing that her bottom lip is retracted into her mouth with her teeth just peeking out. 
don’t. break. 
there’s an intensity through your eyes, bewildered at what you’re doing before the synapses in your brain fully registers what’s present in the moment, and what you’re going to do next, clenching your teeth before parting your lips after with a subtle smile. 
you grab momo’s face that lets a small gasp out, letting this newfound opportunity tempt you with all of it’s weight, looking at the flushed cheeks and glowing complexion from the alcohol, scoffing at the state your girlfriend was in currently. 
“maybe this bitch needs to have the attitude fucked out of her no?” you mutter, causing momo to moan out with the proposition before pulling her closer to your face, “you’re insane for making me like this, and now you’re gonna pay for it.” 
yeah, you’re definitely insane.
strike four: teach your girlfriend how she should be handled after being stupid.
it only took a few steps for you to toss momo on the edge of the bed, her lower half hanging over on the floor as she tried to get up in an attempt to reposition herself, but you pin her down with your flat palm on her back, letting your hand feel out her tapered and exposed waist. momo swallows a gulp, still anticipating what you were going to do next, “feel free to stop me at any time, but you probably won’t do that because you’re liking this so much are you? prissy little slut.” 
momo is still wrecked over the alcohol that’s pummeling in her head for now at least, but she hums softly while nodding to comply with the lasting boundary you’ve set up before stripping off your blazer and rolling up your sleeves.
she feels your hands on her waist again. the rigidness of your fingers makes her body shiver at how gentle it is initially, but the roughness behind it when you clutch the sides of her waist. your hands find the waistband of her shorts, pulling it off of her to reveal momo’s exposed ass and the skimpy black thong she was wearing under as well. 
“first you give a strip show and you’re wearing a fucking string as your underwear? you reallyyyy want me to set you right don’t you?” you scoff as you knead momo’s ass with your one hand before giving a firm hit that sets the tone with how high-pitched momo’s yelp spills out of her lips. 
there’s a firm red mark from the first strike, and you’re tilting your head at how your hand slightly stings from the slap, so of course you’re gonna go back for more. if she’s gonna act like a slut the way you found out what she was doing, how could you not give her the proper punishment that she deserves?
her ass is now beet red, and you’re biting your lip at the sight of momo’s legs wiggling on the edge of the bed and the whimper she’s sounding off like she’s asking to be used as a way to let your frustrations out especially the day you just had leading up to this. 
you then rip off your dress shirt and toss it carelessly to the nearby seat next to the coffee table, and momo sees the white cloth hit the chair before you slide your hands up her waist underneath the hoodie you put on, feeling her breasts without the bra since she took it off back at the nightclub. 
the shiver that seethes out of momo’s teeth when your fingers find her nipples, pinching the buds to tracing around her mounds with your fingertips before lightly scratching her chest that earns a string of breathy whimpers of being toyed around. "y-y/n, please--" she mumbles out barely.
you then lean over to momo’s side, hand sliding across her ass that catches the leaking arousal from her pussy, massaging her ass before giving it another harshful slap. “need me that badly huh?” you’re smiling against the cuff of her ear at what momo has become and you haven’t even slipped your fingers and tongue inside her yet. “gotta ruin you first, but i promise to take care of you after, be patient for me baby.” 
momo’s face scrunches as you loosely press your lips to her face before sliding off the hoodie leaving momo completely naked on the bed still bent over, waiting to be fucked dumb by you. 
“hands behind your back, stack your wrists on top of each other.” you say sternly, and all that momo can do is just comply with your commands, exhaling out in desperation but also eager the way she’s moving her head left and right with the lasting touches you’re giving her to her ass and folds with your single finger, smirking at how she’s shuddering.
you then unlink the belt from your pants, folding it in half before creating a small opening loop that creates a loud 'slap' of the fine italian leather. momo feels the grooves of the accessory and the coldness of the buckle before you give her a light hit at the same red mark that makes momo's legs squirm in the sharp, pleasureable pain.
"f-fuck-"
another two or three slaps follow after that.
"we learned our lesson yet?" you ask, gripping the nape with your head over to the side of her ear. momo throws her head back whining, fighting the pain coming from below and the throbbing in her pusling cunt that's all too present now. "yes y/n- it feels-"
"i'm not convinced with your answer." you say, noncomittal with your actions saying otherwise. you continue with a few more light slaps to give more leniency before wrapping the belt around momo’s stacked wrists behind her back before fastening it tightly, leaving a little bit of room for momo to move her hands around. 
once both hands were bound together, momo feels a sudden stillness in the air, lifting the upper half of her body slightly to shift herself on the bed only to be pushed down by your hand on the small of her back just over her tied hands, looking over her shoulder to give your eyes the wonderful view of your girlfriend being submitted to the brand new y/n she managed to crack. the towering presence taking you to new heights. “wow, you do look good from behind.” 
your hands start to shift over to the sides of momo’s waist, feeling the slimness of her figure before trailing down to the slopes of her ass, letting your fingers join together to cup them as momo squirms at the sensation of your cooling touch. she’s humming out a sound from her closed lips, almost like appreciative tone the way her side profile is hinting towards a smirk– “please, y/n, i need you—” 
she needs this, and you’re considering the cards in your hand right now; give in and let momo have her way with you outstandingly topping her, or make her beg to get the drunk horniness fucked out of her. 
so, you go with the second option. 
“how badly do you want me inside?” you mutter, kissing the top of her rear shoulder blade before your lips start to canvas the small divot of her spine. “were the cameras at the show and the two guys leering at you not enough?” 
“mmmph…” momo croons, hiding her face before you smack her ass again from the side this time, shooting her face out in response to the pain. “god, w-why are you—” 
“answer the question babes, do you want me inside of you? yes or no?” 
momo hides her face again, before letting out a whiny coherent sentence that you could barely hear, but you need to drag it out of her. “final warning, if you want me to give you what you want, beg for it. i need you to say it out loud for me.” 
“y-you, you– you–” 
“speak up love, i wanna hear your lovely voice.” 
for two short seconds, you wait for an answer, and then—
“please baby, i want you now. i want you to fuck me with my hands tied till i won’t be able to walk. fuck, you’re such a tease, just make me yours.” she slurs out, but the neediness overpowered the alcohol in her system that makes it easy for you to understand. 
while she was saying that, your left hand was already primed hovering over her cunt, the last bit of teasing—the best possible punishment that you could give momo as you’re fighting the urge to let your fingers dive into the heat. 
“you already are.” you say, and dip the pads of your middle and ring finger into her cunt, letting momo find that searching ache- or, at least the sounds that were music to your ears as she cursed out a noise before shoving her face into the sheets, her fists clenching through the tied leather. 
there’s no warning or preface, just the coaxed maneuver of your fingers all up inside her, twisting and turning against the slick leaving no remorse as you upped the pace. you know how momo likes it when you turn up the tempo of your thrusting hand, she’s swallowing hard and clenching her teeth because of it and she’s babbling to the point where you can sense the tension from her expression and increase of pitch in moans. 
her eyes are closed throughout the entirety of the short time, considering how much you riled her up with your whole act of pinning her in the wall and the mattress to get her to almost cum, catching her hands slack from fists to near cupping hands. momo’s at her high, but you curl your fingers and slide out completely, tearing it away from her. 
“n-no no, fuck what are you doing, i—” 
you’re snickering as momo’s brows knit together before fluttering her eyes open darting to meet, pleading you everso to let her cum. 
“don’t,” you warned, “i was easy on you before, but now i’ll treat you like the bitch that you deserve to be treated.” sliding your hand up slowly on the side of her waist while your other hand was grazing over the marked ass you created. 
without warning, you smack her ass again that makes her yell out loud enough for the next door guests to hear, before subduing that with the soothing upward swipe of your flattened tongue that earns a hitched breath and a moan filled with satisfaction the way you’re lapping up momo’s soaked cunt for the time being–an act of generosity that is all a facade that’s part of the play for now. 
“mmnh–” you groan against the searing core, all that you want to, “so fucking good baby.” 
momo gives you a subtle “mhm hm” with her eyes still closed, biting her lip at the feeling of your mouth on her swollen pussy before the intensity increases with your two fingers now inserted into play. 
you almost get caught off track with the amount of time you indulge yourself with momo’s pussy bent over against the bed, palm and fingers splayed on her lower back as the other hand is working along with your tongue working to get her close, then again stopping once the hitched breaths are near its peak. 
pulling away with a kiss and a bite to the inner thigh, momo squirms again when she realizes that the feeling of your fingers and tongue are no longer there, only to be substituted with your moving hands on her hips, pulling her up to the bed and deepening her arched back. her knees are already bent like they’re kneeling that opens up her pretty, puffy pussy lips. the sight alone makes you want to frame it in a sex museum, but this is momo’s pussy, your pussy to tear up, and no one else’s. 
leaving teasing touches with just your fingers dancing along the slopes and curves of her body, you go at it again with another quick round, pumping inside of her that makes her come close to her climax again, snatching it away in quick successions, you’re also planting marks on her back while you listened to the heavenly moans that cancels out the frustrations you had earlier today while on the job. 
momo is going to be so thoroughly fucked, left breathless when you finally set her free from the tied belt, her wrists marked red from how much she rubbed the leather against her skin. 
“flip,” you order, “and don’t even think about moving. i’ll put you how i want you to be.” 
in the hopes of you letting her cum (for the first time tonight at least), momo follows your demands, doing exactly as she’s told by flipping herself over, barely able to prop herself up on her elbows, as you give teasing kisses to her chest, working your way up to her mouth that eases her mind for just a bit. 
“arms up.” and momo listens as a smirk forms at the corner of your lips against hers, your hand fishing for the necktie while your face was occupied. you then straddle momo over her chest, wrists crossed at the top of the headboard with a small knob that was perfect for you to wrap around with the tie, securing it firmly but also just leaving with enough room for momo’s hands to move around (you were liking it when you see her squirm with her hands.) 
once that was set, you then meet your gaze with hers, giving another sensual kiss for a few seconds before trailing down to the hollow of her throat, leaving light marks before crossing off the mental checklist in your head of how to push momo’s buttons.
hands on breasts, massaging them with the addition of the mouth on her nipple, causing her to moan at the contact, stimulating as your rough palms glide over and below her upper chest. momo’s cunt is throbbing uncontrollably from the few times you’ve edged her and how you’re doubling down your efforts in overestimation is clouding her mind from the relentless pleasure she received from tonight so far. 
“we liking this, are we?” you murmur against her skin. 
“please, god i– nmh” 
“all of this riling and you still want me to do something about it? pitiful.” you laugh before leaving another dark mark on her torso. 
“i won’t like it, i swear— wanna be ruined….just fucking destroy me…” momo sighs out, her eyes blinking repeatedly as your gaze shifts lower and lower until you finally reached to her swollen, soaked cunt. “y/n—” she’s begging so much more than before, and you almost feel bad. "please, wanna cum so bad..."
“shhh, maybe.” you mutter over her face for another chaste kiss to her cheek and jaw. “we think we deserve it now?” 
momo can only whimper at the question as you give her a meaningful kiss that was gentle, her body easing from the tension of your touch as a flick of your tongue across her lips, relaxing for just a moment before you pull away. 
the sight of her bent over for you was enough to get off on, but when you look at momo’s gaze—the way she’s leaking neediness: her lips are swollen, chest heaving with heavy breaths, cheeks tinted with a highlighted pink redness all over, her eyes are nearly crossed from your kisses like she’s dizzy for more. 
momo’s eyes flutter shut once again as you kiss her cheek, the small area behind her ear that she adores you for letting her know that you’re still pushing all the right spots together the more you move further and further down to her hips—where her cunt awaits as she feels your lips moving closer from her inner thighs. 
sensitivity was something that you were hyper aware of, honing in your ears to the sounds and breaths that really makes momo cry out, praying that you’d give her what she wants. the pecks were then exchanged for the sudden surge once your lips finally latch onto her pussy, and momo bucks her hips forward while your hand hooks onto them, keeping her in place. 
you’re letting her find it, tongue and mouth swirling and humming in all the ways you know that makes momo crazy. her thighs are pressed against the sides of your head, prolonging the sensation with your nose buried into her clit. you feel the tension building up within her—right where the sounds are at the apex—and you shift your head off to the left suddenly, yanking the orgasm away once again. 
“that’s my girl.” pulling back to mutter against her leg, looking upwards to see momo’s head rolled back, and her wrists are fighting against the tied fabric from their crossed ‘X’ position. 
“y/n, please.” she begs again, “you’re so– so bad, baby i can’t—” 
you’re trailing your mouth up her body again, hands grazing the fine line hinted at her abs. “so amusing…” you mutter out, running a finger along her jawline from the end of her jaw to the tip of her chin. “dripping from being worked up so much by me…” 
a hand is combing momo’s tangled wolfcut, and your head is at an angle with the most devilish smirk as your kneecap touches the heat between her legs, running your hand to feel the seeping slick that’s coming out of her, and another whiny remark is let out at the reeling notion of your touch. 
“fuck, just ngh– i’m– can’t be nmh—” 
she’s speaking complete nonsense at this point, and you can’t ignore the remarks at this stage now. your lips retreat from nibbling her ear lobe as your hand works simultaneously, inserting into her folds again that leaves momo shaking. more marks are now seen across her body from her neck to her chest, fuck they might as well be bruises at this point the way you’re just chewing away at the enticing body that’s lying under you. 
another harsh bite sends momo screaming, keeping your mouth occupied with the three digits already pumping in her, a subtle nudge of her clit with your thumb that has momo somewhat say your name loudly, eyes rolled all the way back with her mouth wide open, she might just go numb at this point. 
“such a good fucking girl mo, take it like the pretty slut you are…” 
the breathy pants get a lot bigger in the hotel room as you thrust mercilessly into her, it’s all instinct at this point as one more push was good enough to get her across and she finally cums all over your fingers after all that degrading and teasing you’ve put her through, hips shivering as her ass is off the mattress. 
“hnngh! oh fuck!, god i’m cumming, c-cumming–” 
it's so hot when you're like this for me.
momo’s high was only short lived when your lips are on her nipple again, nibbling on the bud with a little more ferocity as her elbows try to tense forward, but the necktie holding her on the headboard keeps her from buckling in. it sends a short circuit through her entire nervous system. 
no chance to recover for momo, shaking her head with her teeth clattering against itself, you continue to mark up her chest again, leaving a noticeable bite mark on the rim of her shoulder. momo starts to see sparkles in her head, and her vision starts to zone out. this was a first for her being used like this, used by you; for your own benefit to completely have control over.
“god, shit– wai—no–pleas–” she tries to cry out, voice nearly breaking, and her face is scrunched up to the maximum. 
“you can tell me to stop mo, do you want that?” 
you can only see momo’s heaving chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, but she shakes her head with her fists clenched through the necktie. “i’m giving you what you want, so fucking deal with it.” 
momo has gone multiple rounds with you before; but after being edged to the point where she could just cum in quick successions? you’ve managed to learn that about her body faster than she realized, which is impressive to say the least, one of the many tricks you’ve managed to master. so you bite her nipple again, inciting a moan and her legs close around your hand, wiggling your fingers sliding in and around her walls to get her going again in no time. 
a litany chorus of your name being sung through her vocal chords with a mixture of a cry breaking through in between shaken breaths, and momo is trying everything in her power to just see it through—even if tears are starting to stream down her eyes. her walls clamp down on your fingers again, pumping through it, but now you leave a trail of nibbles down her body again before shifting to the lower part of the bed and back to her cunt, joining your fingers with the swipe of your tongue. 
“no—no no no, wait, bab- y/n– fuck, go easy p-please, i’m sensitiv–” 
“i could care less of a shit if you can’t handle it anymore, you owe me a good meal.” 
you’ve got four fingers in her at this point, and while you’re surprised by the stretch and the liquid sounds coming out of her fucked pussy, momo has blown past the point of no return, and you’re feeding into that as you slide your fingers out, letting your mouth finally have it’s chance to finish the job. 
momo closes her legs around you again reflexively, but this time the pressing in between her heat was powerful enough for her to take your head off since she managed to crack your neck slightly.
you growl out at the act, pulling her legs apart before sliding your hands up to the bottom of her calves, raising both of them upwards for you to have free reign in shoving your face deeper into her cunt, tongue licking up the sweet arousal with no restriction. there’s a slight resistance, and you bite lightly to the side of her swollen lips. 
“n-no more, please–p-pleas—”
“baby,” you tell your girlfriend who is completely fucked by your mouth, growling with a kiss to her asscheek, “keep your fucking legs up.” 
momo can’t do much, nor that she had a say or fighting chance to do so. you’re holding her down as you eat her out, the pent up aggression and anger that you had for all of the things gone wrong clearly taken out on her. she lets out a piercing scream, (much more like a screech the way she’s shaking under your touch) and feels her body go limp, mind clearly passed from consciousness barely as she finally cums in your mouth, cleaning up her cream with your tongue, humming with the craving fully fulfilled while you help set momo’s legs down. 
you give her pussy one last chaste kiss, before wiping off the last remnants of her cum from the bottom of your lips with her tongue and finger, sucking on it earnestly to prolong the taste. you’re panting out from exhaustion, and the entire lower half of your face is soaked, but the sight was all well worth the reward. 
momo’s tied hands fall slack from the headboard, her head is off to the side, her eyes are closed, cheeks flushed pink with parted lips in inconsistent, labored breaths. her entire body is marked all over; the hickeys and bite marks are basked in glory of the light from the lamp, her thighs are pressed together, rubbing, hiding the additional marks on her legs and her clearly swollen pussy that’s also red. 
you run your hand up her thigh again, and she whimpers at the slightest touch. every part of her body is either bucking or twitching as all that’s heard from momo’s lips was shaky breaths, the sensation hasn’t settled in her body or mind with the amount of back to back to back to back to back orgasms she had in one go. this might be a brand new record between the two of you and she looks way more ethereal the way she is just left in an absolute mess. 
“fuck.” your mind was having trouble conjuring up the proper thoughts, your heart drawing these stuttering breaths that might seem unhealthy, the wave of hunger and lust finally peeling away from you. “fucking amazing.” 
leaning over her, you untie her hands, holding them together as you shift momo over more into the bed, wrapping your arm around her as she’s still trembling from what just happened. “i’m proud of you momo, my pretty girl…crazy that you could handle all of me…” you sigh out, rubbing your thumb over her cheek, her eyes are still closed but she lifts a small smile of praise while you showered her with light kisses. 
an intrusive thought washes over and you shift yourself away from momo’s lying body, setting yourself slightly on top of her but still on the bed, trailing your kisses from her exposed collarbone up to her neck—your lips catch the taste of salt from the tears that were streaming down from her face earlier, and she sniffles a bit when you wipe them away with a soft smile of appreciation. 
“so fucking pretty.” you mumble out, and momo’s lidded eyes meet yours; the gaze softened when you start to rub your hand on her hip to help soothe the soreness as she used her remaining energy to lean up and lock lips with yours again. her hand resting on your shoulder as you plant more pecks along the line of her chin, the way her small fingers are slotted against your neck so modestly. “god, you’re so good to me…” 
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whenever momo wakes up from sleeping or a nap, her nose is always the first sense that picks up the tasty scent of food, it isn’t any different this time today. 
she’s laying on her side, on the farthest end of the bed, eyes fluttering along with a slight headache from however many drinks she doesn't remember having from the night before. the familiar weight of your body absent behind her as she tries to sleep off the tingling that still lingers through her body, but she eventually moves around under the covers to notice that she’s wearing a hoodie now–the same hoodie from last night.
momo hears a faint conversation down the small walkway to the outside of the hotel room, but your voice was all familiar with that smooth and swift tongue speaking in french before the locks of the door are heard again. 
you walk over with a tray, setting it down on the coffee table next to the bed before shifting your look towards the bed seeing momo’s face. 
“you’re up.” you greet her with a gentle tone, one that is very very light-hearted whenever it’s just you two together. momo turns to her side again, prompting you to walk over to the far end of the bed, kneeling over give a few quick kisses on her cheek before fixing her disheveled hair. 
“got you some breakfast, c’mon get up.” you say, “we have a free day to do whatever with the rest of the team later.” 
a small giggle is heard from momo’s nose, before she doesn’t move to get up, rather scrunch up under the bedsheets protecting her like a little kid that’s scared of a monster. “um, can you carry me? i kinda can’t feel my legs…” 
you look back with parted lips, forming a smile after with a laugh, “of course baby, anything for you.” 
the hotel room service breakfast is pretty much normal just like any hotel. just your usual eggs, sausage, bacon, french toast, some waffles or pancakes, and a mix of fruits. you already finished half of your plate and now feeding momo a slice of the syrup drenched breadstick. “good, right?” 
momo hums as she finishes up the last bits of her plate, the last thing was the glass of apple juice that was now put on the table. you wipe your face with a napkin before staring at momo again who just shys away since you’re staring at her for a little longer than usual. 
“is there something on my face?” 
“there is.” you answer, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek that had a little bit of whipped cream from the belgian waffles you two ate. momo blushes when you pull away and you’re wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “there, all better.” you say with a smile, getting up after. 
“wait,” momo says, and your attention is on her again. she has her arms up with her legs on the seat of the chair. 
“momo wants uppies?” you say cutely, and momo just nods. so you pick her up from the seat and set her on the bed, fixing up the covers to get more situated. it was a little early and most of the activities would be in the afternoon, so it wouldn’t hurt to just chill for a bit. 
“sorry about last night…” momo says, twiddling her fingers together. “i got carried away with the drinks.” 
“it’s okay.” you respond, kissing her hand to comfort her. “was i too much last night?” 
“no, i actually liked it…” 
“that so?” you ask, teasing momo as you move closer in the bed. “i don’t want to be the one to have all the fun, you know.” 
“well, you can.” momo admits, and you’re folding yet again crawling on top of her, pecking her lips as momo melts into putty again, mumbling against her lips, 
“expect more of that from me then.” 
“what did you say to me again last night? that i made you insane?” momo responds, stealing another kiss from your stoic face. “i think you may be right.” 
“what if we told yoona that we want to make this relationship public? i don’t wanna hide this anymore.” 
momo ponders for a quick second, before locking onto your eyes again. “if we did, then everybody is gonna go–”
“insane.” 
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twiisted-king · 11 months
Text
♢ Spider-Man Noir BF HC’S ♢
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➟ Spider-Man Noir / GN!Reader 🕸️
➟ SFW / NSFW
➟ TW : 1930’s Attitudes, The Great Depression, Injuries/Blood, Sexual Content, & Smoking.
————————————————————————
— Let’s set one thing straight, he is husband material.
— The moment y’all start dating is when he starts thinking of marriage. Obviously he’s from the 1930’s so he probably thinks more in terms of “ I Man, I Husband “. I don’t think it’s to the point of being toxic though :)
— Peter has a gun, yes a gun, that he is not afraid to use especially when it comes to you. He’s always clutching you close to him whenever y’all go outside and keeping a close eye on the environment around him. He already lost Uncle Ben, he is NOT losing you too.
— A total gentleman : flowers, taking your coat, kissing your hand, he goes the whole nine yards.
— It’s hard for him to just be comfortable sometimes. Experience the Great Depression and being Spider-Man has left him a nervous wreck who just can’t calm down. He’s always expecting the worse. In other words, please treat this man like he’s the best thing in the whole world, he needs it.
— A music lover who would be even more smitten if you danced with him. He’ll hum to the tune and spin you around the livingroom with this big, goofy smile on his face.
— Peter runs off of coffee, cigarettes, and adrenaline. He doesn’t have the easiest line of even as a civilian and often works late into the night. He’s always exhausted when he gets home and just wants to fall into bed beside you.
— Is pretty always big spoon. It’s just easier since he’s more then a likely taller than you plus he likes taking on the protector role.
— A decent chef. He can definitely make a mean dinner and has learned a few tips/tricks from Aunt May.
— Patch up his wounds! He’s a good patient who just sits there with this glint of admiration in his eyes as you clean up any blood or stitch close a deeper cut. He’ll absolutely tease you by asking if you can “ kiss it better “.
— He writes sappy poetry. It’s mostly just for kicks and giggles though he can definitely whip out something that really touches your heart. He gets flustered if you thank him for the poetry and just hides his red face behind his hat Jotaro style.
— Peter wants to eventually move away from New York to somewhere much quieter. He wants to marry you and have a big house. If you want kids that’s more than okay with him and if you don’t he’s content on settling for a dog. He absolutely loves dogs.
♢ NSFW ♢
— While not the most experienced person sexually he still knows how to have a good time.
— Peter’s libido isn’t the highest and sex is more of a celebratory/occasional thing. You got a job promotion? Cool! Peter wants to bang you on the couch until the walls are white and the multiverse rips apart.
— I think Peter definitely gets aroused a lot he just doesn’t act on his feelings. He doesn’t exactly have time to take an hour away for some much needed love making.
— But when he does get that hour away? Oh boy howdy prepare yourself.
— I already discussed that there is more than likely a height difference and he takes that to his advantage. It’s easy to just scoop you up no matter how heavy you are and have sex with you right against the kitchen wall.
— Like he’ll rip your clothes off in the heat of the moment then promise to buy your another shirt later.
— RIDE 👏🏻 THIS 👏🏻 MAN 👏🏻 - He doesn’t mind just kicking back and letting you take control for a bit. He lets out the hottest noises and when you’re thighs are aching from bouncing on him? He just manually fucks you on his cock all while telling you about how nice you feel tensing around him.
— No surface in your place is safe. Kitchen counter, bed, couch .. you’ve been banged on all of them.
— Wants to stuff you full of as much of his cum as possible. He’ll cum into over and over again until your stomach is bloated with his release.
— He’s big! It can be an adjustment taking his dick and he’s fully aware of his size. He’s always whispering encouragements to you, telling you about how good you look taking him like this. His balls are big too lmao.
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doobea · 5 months
Text
♡‧₊˚ i got my eyes on you ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ ─ MILESTONE MASTERLIST
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HI EVERYONE!! I hope everyone is excited to this milestone event hehe! It ended up being 10 reqs in total and I just wanna send everyone a HUGE thank you again for sticking with me throughout the months on this crazy site hehe. I tried to keep most of the tropes relevant to the original requests but I added my own ideas/flare to some of them!! any of the ✰'s you see are added hehe
For those who are out of the loop, please refer to this OG post about the event! Anyways, I hope you guys look forward to this!! I've been dying to write some new ideas hehe
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COMING SOON:
OF THREADS AND RIBBONS ─ MEGUMI F.
synopsis: you can see the red strings of fate holding people together, but no one is allowed to know that. that fact didn't stop you from using your knowledge to nudge soulmates together. of course, this led to you getting a reputation as the class matchmaker, which isn't an issue until your soulmate, Megumi Fushiguro, asks you to set him up with someone else.
tropes: soulmate AU, college AU
ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.
synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.
tropes: second chances, office romance
NOT LIKE GOLD IN YOUR DREAMS ─ SUKUNA R.
synopsis: your tycoon family has done you the favor of finding the 'perfect' bachelor, aiming to strengthen their connections and net worth. and who is your future husband? cold, brash, and down right dangerous. he is the definition of devastation poured and disguised in a suit.
tropes: arranged marriage, slow burn, billionaire!sukuna ✰
BUT YOU'RE A MASTERPIECE ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: when your friends urge you to take up a new hobby, you decide on figure drawing. you convince yourself that it'll be a good way to make friends, to let your hands and mind run loose for three hours, and maybe you'll find the passion for art again. what you didn't expect is to fall in love with your nude model.
tropes: slow burn, model/artist AU ✰
NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: the last thing you'd expect after moving to raccoon city is a zombie outbreak. but good thing you have a hot police officer to look after you, right?
tropes: zombie AU, christmas AU, police officer!gojo ✰, resident evil AU ✰
YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.
synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.
tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat
SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.
synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.
tropes: best friend's brother, forced proximity, tutor!reader ✰
FROM NEW YORK, WITH LOVE ─ RIN I.
synopsis: new york city is always depicted as the place to be, known for its big hopes and even bigger dreams. but when you and rin reunite, after being apart for two years, you're both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes. maybe coming here was a mistake after all. because exs can't just be friends, right?
tropes: second chance, hurt/comfort, college AU
NEW GAME PLUS ─ RIN I.
synopsis: ranked number three on the top streaming platform, twitch, rin hides his secret identity pretty well for a college student. during the day, he's studying non-stop and, when night comes, he's getting headshots left and right while yelling into comms. he absolutely hates losing, which is why you're on his shit list - AKA the second top streamer and the second best sniper in all of asia. so what does rin do when he finds out that you're suddenly his new project partner?
tropes: esport AU, rivals to lovers, college AU, overwatch ✰ (i picked this game bc i know a lot of it lol i hope you don't mind)
ICE, ICE, BABY ─ YOICHI I.
synopsis: you don't do spontaneous and you hate it when things don't align with your routine. so when the school's hockey team messes up their rink and has to settle with the figure skating one, you'll do everything in your power to make sure you'll reach the nationals - even if it means distracting the hockey team's star player.
tropes: hockey player!isagi, figure skater!reader ✰, enemies to lovers
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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chvoswxtch · 7 months
Text
desire
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?
warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.1k
a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]
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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.
Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.
It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank. 
Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.
That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you. 
The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.
After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.
“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”
Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.
“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”
It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep. 
“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”
Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.
The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck. 
“We’re here.”
The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.
It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.
When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots. 
“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.” 
Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.
Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it. 
“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-” 
The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see. 
Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.
“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”
The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.
»»———  ———««
The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.
While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen. 
There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.
“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.
“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”
Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.
“Hey, I give you answers.”
“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”
Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.
“You never read my personnel file?”
Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.
“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”
“And you let that stop you?”
There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.
“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”
“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”
A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.
He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.
“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”
You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.
Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.
“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”
Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows. 
“What? This is good shit.”
Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.
“Was this your wife’s favorite?”
Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.
“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”
Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.
“She uh…she liked white wine.”
For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.
“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”
Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.
“Pinot Grigio.”
A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.
“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”
For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.
“She woulda liked you.”
That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.
“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”
Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.
“What?”
“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”
Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.
“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”
Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.
“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”
There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother. 
“I forget sometimes.”
Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.
“Forget what?”
“That she’s gone.”
There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.
“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”
Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.
“Do you forget too?”
Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.
“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”
There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.
“Frank?”
He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.
“What was her name?”
The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.
“Maria.”
A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.
“Maria. Is this her recipe?”
Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.
“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”
The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.
“Well then, to Maria.”
There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.
“To Maria.”
»»———  ———««
“You’re fired.”
Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.
“What? Why?”
“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”
You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.
“You can’t fire me.”
“And why not?”
“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”
While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?
Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.
“I never thanked you.”
Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.
“For what?”
Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.
“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”
Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“It’s my job-”
“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”
Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.
“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”
There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?
“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”
A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing. 
Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.
“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”
The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.
Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine to protect.”
The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.
“I am?”
Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.
“You’re goddamn right.”
Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.
Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.
“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”
The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.
Desire.
“I don’t wanna go back.”
That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.
You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.
Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.
An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.
A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.
“This alright?”
“Yes.”
Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.
“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”
“Frank, please.”
The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.
Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. 
The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you. 
Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.
After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.
“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”
The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.
As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be. 
Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.
“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”
Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.
“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”
“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”
A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.
“Doesn’t this feel right?”
Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.
While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.
“Frank…”
As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”
“Oh my God…Frank-”
“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”
You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life. 
Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his. 
Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.
It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes. 
Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.
Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss. 
Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.
“Please…please…”
That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating. 
“Frank…Frank…”
“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”
A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.
But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety. 
Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure. 
“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”
You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go. 
“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”
A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.
There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.
“Frank?”
The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.
“M’here.”
The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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writing-for-marvel · 6 months
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Day 28: Filming
Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader
Summary: With your honeymoon almost over, Bucky wants to capture some precious memories on film.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, masturbation, oral (male receiving), slight daddy kink, spanking, slight mention of reader feeling insecure in front of the camera when it’s up close, but she fully consents to being filmed
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: the penultimate part!! I’m gonna miss these two at the end of Kinktober. Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
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Bucky has you in his lap, hands splayed on your ass and his tongue in your mouth.
You had tentative plans for today that included leaving your beach front resort to go snorkelling, but when Bucky reminded you this morning that you only had a couple days left of your honeymoon, you decided staying in bed naked with your god-like husband was a much better use of your time.
“You wanna try something new?” Bucky mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as his fingers trail tantalising swirls up and down your spine. His bare thighs are sturdy underneath your own, and his tattooed chest firm below your fingertips, but the softness in his eyes makes you melt into him.
“With you, always.” You reach between your bodies and begin stroking him, preparing for what you're certain is about to take place in the expanse of your bed. Bucky groans in response, the noise the most enticing sound you’ve ever heard. “What did you have in mind?”
Bucky Barnes, the King of New York, rarely ever looks bashful, but there’s a shyness to the way he gazes at you in this moment that makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.
“I was thinking… we have our wedding video, how about we make a honeymoon video too?” There’s something so very electrifying and alluring about the thought of immortalising your love for each other in the form of a sex tape. Capturing your most intimate moments and every angle of how perfect the two of you fit together. Something only your sets of eyes will ever view, but that will commemorate the month in your life where Bucky has made you feel the sexiest and most alluring you ever have.
The moment trembles between you, quivering with tension like a raindrop clinging to a leaf as you bite your lip before nodding in excited endorsement. Bucky surges forward, cupping your face and crashing his pillow soft lips to yours as you relax into his familiar, musky scented embrace that will forever be your definition of home.
With his insanely strong arms, Bucky lifts you from his lap, and places you with your back against masses of pillows. A jolt of exhilaration zaps through you as you’re reminded Bucky can quite literally manhandle you any time he pleases.
He grabs his phone, which had been charging on the nightstand, and holds it up as if he started recording instantly. Just the look of pure wonder and excitement on his features is enough for a desperate ache to grow between your legs.
“Touch yourself, baby. Rub that pussy for daddy.” You spread your legs wide to give Bucky and the camera the best view of your glistening folds, gathering your arousal on your fingers before focussing on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Show me how gorgeous you look when you touch yourself thinking of your husband.”
Every time he refers to himself by that moniker, it makes you even wetter. Your husband. The man who stood in front of everyone you knew and promised to love you forever. Your souls now entwined for eternity.
And if Bucky had his way, so would your bodies.
The way Bucky seductively licks his lips as he watches you pleasure yourself makes you more turned on than you thought possible. Imagining it is instead his fingers playing with your nub, you draw tight circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your breathing quickening with every flick which Bucky seems to enjoy as he watches you intently through his camera with a delighted smile.
His large frame looms over you, inching the camera closer every second, completely enthralled by the little whimpers cascading from your lips and how your two fingers stimulate yourself and not wanting to chance missing capturing any of it on film.
Bucky groans when you slip your fingers inside you, you’ve never been able to reach the spots he can with his massive hands, but with him watching over you, filming you, you do your very best to give him a show that will be worth watching over and over again.
Drowning in your own pleasure you almost miss how Bucky starts stroking himself with his hand not in possession of his phone, already as hard as a rock observing the pornographic scene in front of him, but your mouth begins drooling at the realisation when you look over to him.
James Barnes, one of the most influential men in the whole world, your husband, is getting off to the picture of you masturbating, precum beading at his tip, all because he enjoys the sight of you spread out of a bed just for him. He has that look in his eye as if he wants to lick every inch of your body, devour you, but behind that is indecision, as if he’s enjoying your show far too much to interrupt for his own selfish reasons.
But as he pumps his thick length watching you intently, your chest also fills with a yearning desire to consume him, and you give in a lot quicker than Bucky does. You crawl over the bed, swaying your hips and putting on a show for the camera which is still recording your every move, before dropping to your knees in front of him.
“Is my dirty little slut desperate for daddy’s cock?” Having the camera this close to your face as you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick makes you slightly insecure, but Bucky has forever praised both how beautiful you are to him and your skills taking him in your mouth, so when he gazes down at you with the most smitten look you’ve ever seen and an anticipation where he can barely keep the phone steady, you forget all about the camera recording you and instead focus on pleasing your husband.
You choke on his cock as he hits the back of your throat, tears welling along your lash line as you push yourself down him as far as you can physically take, while maintaining the stimulating, circular pressure on your own clit.
“That’s my good girl, fuck your throat feels amazing” Bucky proclaims, affectionately rubbing your cheek with his thumb as he lets you set the pace, bobbing up and down his thick length, moaning around what you can fit in your mouth. “You look so hot gagging on this fat dick.”
You continue to suck him off with as much vigour as you can muster, until you get light headed, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, tears spilling from your eyes. Pulling off him, you look up at the camera with swollen lips, probably looking like the picture of pure debauchery. Given the look of utter devotion Bucky shoots you from behind his phone, you suspect he rather enjoys the sight.
He slaps his dick on your extended tongue a couple times, before you swallow him again, having caught your breath enough to continue.
Your thighs start to feel weak as your fingers focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, and all of a sudden your orgasm comes out of nowhere, hitting you like a bus. You’re looking up innocently at the camera, taking all of Bucky in your mouth as pleasure sparks and rages like a wildfire in your belly, consuming your entire body. Moaning around his cock, you continue to furiously rub your clit as per Bucky’s growled instructions, dirty praises in the sound of his voice filling your ears even though he sounds far away.
Bucky gazes at you with a combination of awe and a craving need, moving the camera closer to your contorting face to capture every moment of pure pleasure as it floods through your body like a tsunami. He gives you his signature alluring smirk as you come down from your high, that one which always suggests he has much more in store for you yet.
He motions for you to get back up on the bed, all the while keeping you in the centre of the cameras shot.
“Show me that ass baby - yeah that’s it, the camera’s got the best view of this fucking perfect ass.” Bucky punctuates his sentence with a delicious slap to the fat of your butt, the short sting only making you drip with even more wetness to show the camera and your core ache to feel utterly full of him. “Gonna see how you take every inch, like the good little whore I married.”
As he thrusts inside you, starting at a brutal pace which has you gripping onto the bed sheets for dear life, you recognise Bucky is fulfilling his promise of keeping you satisfied and stuffed full of his cum throughout your honeymoon.
And now you’ll have the video evidence to prove it.
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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @Inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan
561 notes · View notes
zepskies · 7 months
Note
Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?
Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.
But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!
Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭
Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️
This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader
Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).
Imagine: Ben loses you.
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Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.
He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.
“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.
He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.
One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.
He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.
Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.
When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.
“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.
“And how much did these cost, five cents?”
You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.
“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.
“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”
A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.
“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”
The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.
Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  
So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.
“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”
“On our day off,” he retorted.
“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”
“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.
He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.
Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.
Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.
“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.
Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.
He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.
It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.
Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.
“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.
You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.
You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.
Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.
It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.
You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.
The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.
Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.
Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.
You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.
“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.
He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.
“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”
Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”
“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”
He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  
Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.
“Bad news for her,” he said.
"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."
"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."
Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.
“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.
His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.
He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.
“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”
Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.
Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.
“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”
In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.
Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.
“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.
You took three hesitant steps forward.
And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.
As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.
It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.
You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.
Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.
“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”
He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.
“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.
When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.
His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.
He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.
Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.
In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.
And it was his own fault.
His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.
His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.
You made the mess…
His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.
His last ones would fall and die with you.
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“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.
He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.
He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.
His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.
“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.
Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.
“Yeah,” he said at last.
“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”
Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.
He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.
You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.
With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.
You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.
Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.
You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.
Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.
And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.
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AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹
Read the Sequel:
A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
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493 notes · View notes
tainted-liquor · 8 months
Text
'La Princesa De Mi Corazon⋆˙⟡♡
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E42!Miles Morales x Daddy's Girl!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles ! TWs: Cursing, realistic teenage dates (he didn't spend no 5k cmon now) W/C: 2.4k A/N: This can be read as an autistic reader if u squint rllly hard ! Another lovely request I got!! Enjoy luvs
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For as long as you can remember, you've never actually been told the word "no" by your father. When your mother didn't wanna get something for you, you'd just ask your dad! Since you were the youngest and first daughter in your parent's long line of sons, with you having 4 older brothers, there were times when you didn't even have to ask, it was just yours before you could even think about it. Clothes, phones, shoes, makeup, perfume, all of it was yours. You were a daddy's money girl, with everything in the world right at your fingertips. So naturally, you tended to avoid serious relationships with boys due to your insanely high standards that had been curated since birth. Until you met him, Miles.
Miles was the complete opposite of you and your aesthetic. Where you were giddy and childish, he was serious and mature. You possessed everything under the sun in the shade of pink, where he barely had anything besides black and purples in his closet. Originally he didn't fuckin' like you, like, at all. He thought you were a 'spoiled air-headed dressed up money drowned bimbo' due to his experience in 'working' with rich people. They all seemed to act the same way and wanted the exact same thing, money or power.
But that view dropped immediately when he saw you interact with others. You weren't rude, you definitely weren't stupid, and you were the kindest most giving person he had ever seen before. People all in your circle constantly praised you for how sisterly you were, handing out gifts and words of wisdom like candy. Your only 'flaw' was your ignorance, living blind to the world around you due to being so heavily protected by your father. Sure, there was crime everywhere and New York was a walking murderhouse, but you didn't know that!
You were casually talking to one of your best friends Brenna when you bumped into someone, knocking you straight on your ass and causing him to stumble back a little. "I am so so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" you empathized as you picked yourself up and immediately offered to help the stranger. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket as he spoke, his voice quiet and steady as he did. "Oh my bad, It's all good. Just be careful." You gave him a warm smile and a brief nod before setting off again, assuming that would be the last time you two spoke. And damn were you wrong.
The next time you'd see Miles, you were at the mall the following Saturday with a shit ton of bags in your hands. You practically skipped through the concourses of the mall, smiling and giggling with Brenna. You were in a brand new off-white dress and rounded the corner to see Miles waiting for a Cinnabon in line. As soon as you saw the blue and white logo of the bakery, and the smell of sweet sugar and baked goods kissed the tip of your nose, you stopped what you were doing and stood behind the familiar set of twin braids. "Hey, Miles!"
Miles looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening a fraction when he saw over 10 bags on each of your arms. "Yo…what's up with all your bags? You don't feel your circulation gettin' cut off?" he asked with a bewildered expression, "Damn, how much money you spent here?" he gawked. Truth is, you weren't sure. All your dad said was to have fun and he didn't necessarily…give you an amount to spend, he just handed you the card and told you the PIN. "I actually don't know. This has to be a minimum of 600 dollars, Daddy just kinda told me to have fun with it!" You shrugged like that was completely normal.
Miles stared for a minute, analyzing the 20 bags you had in total from various stores. he sighed with a small smirk, shaking his head in disbelief as you sort of merged with his spot in line. Neither of you realized, but you unknowingly recruited Miles in your shenanigans at the mall as soon as you both left the bakery with a series of sweets. You three set off to the nearby sneaker outlet, buying everyone a minimum of 4 pairs of sneakers to match every outfit they'd ever make. If Miles didn't know before, he knew now that you were the gift god when it came to generosity and Daddy's money.
His entire perspective of you changed that day, with you more actively talking his ear off and surprising him with random shit you got with your dad's credit card. He knew then and there that your standards were sky high and anyone who ever fell in love with you would be up for a bullfight ahead of them. He saw how your dad showered you with absolutely anything you asked for, with you even having a real-life princess crown from 2011 plated with morganite and rubies stationed in a plastic case on a high shelf in your room. But as he spent more time hanging out with you or spending time over at your house with your brothers, it hit him like a fucking truck. He knew whoever found themself head-over-heels for the pretty pink princess of her family would be in for a fucking hell of a time, he just never expected it to be HIM.
The day he realized he loved you was just like any other day, with you speeding up to him whenever you saw him. Your usual poofy dress skirt flows behind you like something out of a Disney animation. As soon as he knew to grab you so you didn't send the both of you falling to the ground, he felt a sudden warmth in his face. No, not you smushing your face against his as you gave him a spine-breaking hug, but a new kind of warmth that screamed danger. He suddenly became aware of your perfectly fitting style and the way each of the features on your face harmonized perfectly to create the perfection that is you.
Even though you came from completely different backgrounds, you never ONCE in your life dared say something about his situation. There were nights when he would just watch you as the prowler, skipping through his neighborhood like you didn't hear any of the gunshots, screams, explosions, or see anything wrong at all with where you currently were. It's not that you didn't notice, but you were completely aware that not everyone was as fortunate as you were, so you had no right to look at situations that weren't identical to yours any differently. And despite how "uppity" you looked on the surface, you truly thought of everyone as a new friend.
You, on the other hand, were crushing HARD. On some, you actively got quieter and sometimes just shut the fuck up entirely when Miles was nearby. You knew that you were probably making a mistake by genuinely loving someone so fully in this age of infidelity and communication issues, but you couldn't help it! He was just so pretty and listened to everything you had to say and he never once asked you for anything! Ever! You didn't know how Miles would behave in a relationship, but you damn sure weren't prepared for it.
When Miles asked you out on a date, you were a squealing mess. You threw on a pretty pink dress and quickly threw your goddess braids into a quick bun. When your dad watched as you eagerly checked your outfit in the mirror, he was a little taken aback when you told him that you were going on a date. He gave you a warm smile, telling you to be safe and if he tries anything that he'll blow his fuckin' top off. You laughed at him being so overprotective, calmly explaining to him that Miles wasn't like that at all.
You silently pondered where Miles was planning on taking you. You didn't want your first date to be all fancy, because that made them look like they were trying way too hard. But you also didn't wanna sit in some random diner, either…you didn't know what you wanted. All you did was hope that he paid attention to any of your conversations as you patiently waited on your velvety couch. You immediately perked up at the sound of the doorbell, flying to the door and waiting a couple of seconds before swinging it open.
"Mírate! La princesa de Nueva York! You love your dresses, huh?" He asked with a small smile, bracing himself as you dove straight into his arms. You giggled as you did a small little spin, showcasing the new silk dress. "I was debating on a different babydoll dress I have or this one. This one just felt more fitting!" you shrugged as you closed the front door behind the both of you. Miles had no idea what a babydoll dress was, but he made sure to let you know that you looked stunning in this seashell shade of pink. You follow closely behind Miles, loosely wrapping both of your arms around his left arm as you begin to break down the various types of dresses, and which one was your favorite.
"I didn't even know dresses had names…What's your favorite kind?" He asked with a small amused smile. Not only was this the first time someone had actively listened to you rant about your love of dresses, but he made an effort to even ask what your favorite one was? Lord, he was in for an earful. And he clung to every single word you said like it was the sweetest of melodies. When you finished your long-winded rant regarding pink flowy sundresses, he nodded with a bashful grin. "So a puff-sleeved peasant dress made of chiffon?"
You nodded eagerly as you realized he had been listening to you the entire time. "Yeah! I drew it in my sketchbook a little while back, I think I'll show you when we walk back." You chirped as you slowly began to approach what looked like the most gorgeous candy store of your life. It smelled like heaven and looked just like eye candy. You didn't even get the chance to point before Miles gently guided you through the frosted glass double doors. You beamed as you immediately set off (taking him with you) toward some of the pastries.
You filled up two mini bags with various types of candy, croissants, and two rock candies, one in purple and one in pink. "Miles, what's your favorite candy?" You asked as you scooped gummy sharks into your bag. "Uhh…those sour airhead stripes," he replied as he grabbed two near-frozen sodas from the wide commercial fridge. You got two packs of his favorite candy and slipped it into one of your candy bags, skipping over to him to pay for everything at the counter. You rummaged through your bag for your wallet, looking up to realize Miles already had planted his card in the reader.
"C'mon, this is like, so much stuff! Let me pay!" you insisted as you went to open your wallet. He gave you a firm glare, zipping your entire wallet closed and stuffing it back in your bag. "You good? I'm taking YOU on a date, not the other way around" he asked as you intertwined your hand with his, allowing him to lead you back out of the candy store. You played back his words in your mind, processing each syllable and just how much it meant to you. You giggled to yourself as Miles told you that you were gonna go rollerskating before he took you back home!
There was no actual problem, you loved the idea of going skating with Miles! The issue was…you couldn't skate. Miles laughed loudly as he watched you attempt to meet him on the rink, trying not to bust your ass on the soft and neon carpet. You froze in complete terror, holding both arms out and vaguely resembling a confused cat with its ears back. Miles glided over to you between a fit of giggles, holding out his hand for you to hold onto.
You firmly grasped his hand, holding on for dear life as he slowly guided you to the shiny hardwood floors of the rink. "Miles I'm gonna fucking cry," you state, wide-eyed and afraid as your legs seem to weaken as he gently pushes you forward. "Alright, hold on mama. I gotcha, just drag your legs forward," he instructs as he glides forward like clockwork. He takes both of your hands within his, laughing as you fight back the urge to scream as you look down at the ground. "And here I thought you loved skating!" he laughed.
"I do! I swear I do! But I can't…oh my god I'm gonna faint…" you sighed as you wrapped both arms firmly around his torso, squeezing him like your life depended on it. "Alright, c'mon. Te ayudaré." he shrugs as he propels the both of you forward as slow as he knows how to. It was amazing, and your face lit up when you realized how fun it was to 'rollerskate'. You hadn't realized when, but you naturally picked up the rhythm of Miles's legs, adapting his style of skating slowly but surely. And when you realized you weren't even holding on to him anymore, your face lit up brighter than any star in the world.
When you packed everything up and returned both of your skates, you were giggling like a child and buzzed off nothing but sugar. You wildly explained how much fun you had and how you felt like a flying fairy on the skating rink, thanking Miles over and over for being so fun. He dropped you off at your house, holding a brief conversation with your parents as you skipped upstairs to find your sketchbook. You eagerly showed him the plethora of dresses you had cooked up in your head, explaining every one of them.
"Damn, you really are a princess huh?" He chuckled as you flipped through the many beta designs of dresses comparable to that of Princess Diana's. "I'll just have to get you one of these next time then huh? Tú eres la Princesa de mi corazon." he chuckled as you waved goodbye. You didn't know what he was saying, but you couldn't help but beam at the affectionate energy radiating from his words. He gave a formal goodbye to your parents before disappearing as swiftly as he arrived.
"I like that kid. He's very proper." You heard your mother exclaim. "Will he be over more often?"
You nodded eagerly as you ran up to your room to scream more into your pillow.
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