Work Text:
Michaela’s love language was giving gifts.
Francesca wasn’t even sure if that was officially one of the love languages, but it sure was Michaela’s.
It was one thing Francesca had become very sure of, since she began dating Michaela.
They both came from well-off families — though Michaela’s were billionaires that practically owned half of Scotland. But that didn’t stop Michaela from insisting on picking up the tab every time they went out to eat.
“I want to treat you,” she explained with a small little grin. “You’re my date.”
And then it became clothes. Michaela loved to take Francesca shopping.
The first time they went to the mall, Francesca was expecting to follow Michaela around while she shopped for herself.
Instead, Michaela held her hand tightly the whole time, fingers intertwined. Walking around the mall, everyone knowing that Michaela was Francesca’s? Yeah, that did things to her.
She would pull down on Francesca’s arm so she could talk in her ear as they people watched, as they shopped, as they walked. Michaela always included Francesca in her every thought. For all that Francesca had hated noise growing up, she was quickly becoming addicted to when it came from Michaela.
They went rifling through a department store, looking at tops and pants, and while Francesca thought Michaela was looking for herself — she was actually looking for Francesca.
“This would look so good on you,” she said, holding up a black denim jacket to Francesca’s torso. “Try it on,” she encouraged.
The rest of the shopping trip devolved from there. Michaela took Francesca through what felt like every aisle of every store, picking things out for her and making her try them on.
Francesca found that she really didn’t mind at all. Especially not when it came time to try clothes on in the dressing room.
Michaela, watching her as she undressed. Michaela, walking towards her, pressing against her as she pulled a shirt on over her head. Michaela, assessing her, eyes roaming over her, touching her waist, her back, her hips, as she decided whether or not Francesca should have that item of clothing.
Francesca had to admit that she’d stolen a kiss or two, in those moments. One time, she tried for more, pushing Michaela back against the dressing room door, pinning her with her hips, deepening their kiss — but Michaela had stopped her and forced her to focus back on the task at hand.
And then, once Michaela decided the items that were keepers, she would always, always, always be the one to pay. Even though Francesca could afford them. Even though they were for Francesca.
But that was just Michaela. She liked to buy Francesca things.
And boy did Francesca like receiving them.
The first time Michaela held out her credit card to pay for an absolute haul of clothes for Francesca, looking up at Francesca with a twinkle in her eye — yeah, it sent a zip through Francesca that ended between her legs.
There was something so hot about it. The way Michaela showed how much she thought about her. How much she understood her. How much she cared for her.
It made sense, really. Francesca was always lost in the mix as one of eight. Easy to overlook, harder to know.
But Michaela, she did it often, with ease, and with a smile on her face. Fuck, if that wasn’t intoxicating.
At the beginning, Francesca would protest a bit more to Michaela spending on her. But then Michaela would always pat her on the cheek and say, Nothing but the best for my best, and Francesca would be so thoroughly charmed that she stopped objecting altogether.
For their sixth month anniversary, Michaela flew them to her “winter house.”
“You have a winter house?” Francesca had asked, confused.
“Of course,” Michaela blinked back. “For when Scotland is too cold. We go to Santorini instead.”
A shiver ran down Francesca’s spine. She ended up throwing Michaela onto the bed and fucking her into the mattress.
While in Greece, Michaela took Francesca to a jewelry store. She pulled her right over to the necklaces and pointed at behind the glass in the case. A cursive M, in white gold, with a single diamond at the top.
“For you?” Francesca had asked, foolishly.
“For you,” Michaela corrected.
Oh. M for Michaela, but Francesca would wear it. Because Michaela was hers. Oh.
She liked that very much.
How did Michaela always know what would be exactly right?
The clerk came over and pulled the necklace out, putting it onto a tray and sliding it towards them. Michaela took the necklace and held it up.
“Turn around,” she said. Francesca obeyed immediately. Michaela brushed her hair to the side and draped the necklace around her neck before fastening the clasp. She pressed a kiss into the back of Francesca’s neck before pulling her hair back in place.
Francesca spun back around and showed Michaela how it looked.
“Perfect,” Michaela murmured, her fingers coming up to straighten the letter.
Francesca didn’t know how much it cost, but she imagined it couldn’t be cheap.
But to think Michaela had picked it out in advance, with her in mind, wanted her to have it, wanted her to wear a piece of her around her neck wherever she went.
It just did things to her.
Francesca swooped down and kissed Michaela right there in the jewelry store. Michaela braced a hand against her chest, smiling into her kiss, and pushing her back before Francesca could take it too far.
“You like?” Michaela asked as she licked her bottom lip, her tone suddenly shy.
“I love,” Francesca whispered, reverent.
The trips didn’t stop there. Michaela had always loved to travel — something that had made Francesca feel insecure when they first started dating. How would she be able to keep Michaela in one place?
It turned out not to matter, because Michaela just took Francesca with her wherever she went.
She would just announce it, nonchalantly.
We’re going to Paris today. Or, how about a quick trip to New York?
They tended to drive to the continent — or, more specifically, Michaela’s private driver, Henry, drove them. Francesca had grown to treasure any long car ride with Michaela.
The privacy screen really came in handy. Though she was always thoroughly embarrassed afterwards when it was clear Henry had heard enough to know what Francesca was doing to Michaela in the back of the car.
When they flew somewhere, Michaela always bought them first class tickets. She always booked them a suite in the swankiest hotels. She always had room service bring up champagne and strawberries.
Francesca couldn’t believe she got to be a part of Michaela’s life. That Michaela wanted her there with her. Michaela, who was so sophisticated and chic, who didn’t want to go anywhere without Francesca at her side.
It drove Francesca a little bit insane. From how much those thoughts made her want to defile Michaela in an unspeakable way.
So yeah. Maybe Francesca got a little bit (read: a lot) turned on by Michaela spending money on her. So what? It made Michaela happy. And it made Francesca delirious.
Francesca’s birthday was about a week before their one-year anniversary. Francesca knew Michaela was planning something special to celebrate both. She was desperate to know, but Michaela insisted it be a surprise.
The night before Francesca’s birthday, she came home to find Michaela in her flat, packing her a suitcase.
“Hi baby,” she greeted, not unsurprised to find Michaela in her flat. She had a key, after all.
“Hi darling,” Michaela said back reflexively, not even looking up from the clothes she was folding.
“Are we going somewhere?” Francesca asked, praying she wasn’t getting her hopes up.
Michaela hummed in response. “I know it’s not ideal to travel on your birthday, but I’ll make it worth your while.”
Francesca could not resist stealing a kiss. “I know you will,” she murmured against her lips.
Michaela spent the night and woke her up at 5AM by spreading her legs and placing herself between them.
“Good morning, birthday girl,” she said as her fingers gently teased her clit.
Francesca sighed, already feeling desire coil in her stomach. “Good morning,” she returned, her hips rocking up towards Michaela’s mouth in anticipation.
Michaela turned to her thighs instead.
Francesca felt her trace her nose up and down the length of her thigh before brushing her lips across her skin, ever so slightly, ever so torturously. Francesca could not stop a moan from escaping her throat.
Michaela then began to kiss, her mouth open and tasting. Francesca could feel her lips, her tongue, her teeth. Heaven.
She bit into the inside of Francesca’s thigh, causing Francesca’s breath to hitch and her back to arch. Michaela soothed over the spot with her tongue, before repeating the same on Francesca’s other thigh.
Finally, Michaela reached the place where Francesca wanted her most. She set in on her clit, pressing her tongue into it, driving Francesca insane. She wound her up tighter and higher with her mouth alone, Francesca’s legs squeezing her head in place, her hips jolting erratically, her mouth frozen open, too overwhelmed to even make a sound.
Her orgasm crashed over her fairly quickly, like it always did when Michaela touched her.
“First birthday gift,” she heard Michaela tease from between her thighs. “Of many.”
Francesca couldn’t wait.
“Now get up. We gotta get to the airport,” Michaela said, patting her on her thighs before climbing out of bed.
They got ready quickly and dragged their suitcases outside to find Henry waiting for them.
“Happy birthday, Francesca,” Henry greeted with a nod. Francesca felt herself blush — of course Michaela told him it was her birthday.
Henry drove them to the airport in record time. There was no funny business in the back of the car this time — instead, Francesca just held Michaela’s hand in her own. Sometimes that was more than enough of what she needed, the weight of Michaela’s hand to remind her that she was real, that they were real.
How could Francesca possibly need anything more?
But then once they got to the airport, Henry did not drop them off at the usual terminal. No, he took them instead to a different airfield entirely.
“What’s going on?” Francesca asked Michaela softly.
Michaela looked up at her, smug. “We’re flying private.”
Francesca watched out the window, enthralled, as they drove right on the tarmac up to a small jet.
“That’s us,” Michaela said with a smirk.
Francesca scrambled out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, excited to see the plane up close.
“Wait,” she said and Michaela came to join her beside her. “I still don’t even know where we’re going.”
Michaela pressed up on her toes to kiss Francesca’s cheek. “It’s a surprise, darling.”
She felt a jolt zip through her. Why did that turn her on so much?
She resisted the urge to kiss Michaela and instead rushed onto the plane, Michaela following close behind her, while Henry unloaded their suitcases.
The cabin was small but extravagantly decorated, with sleek wooden panels and plush leather chairs.
Francesca immediately took a seat in one, sinking into the comfortable material beneath her.
Michaela approached her, her knees brushing against Francesca’s. Francesca reached up her arms to grab Michaela’s hips. She felt urgent for her, suddenly.
Michaela must have felt the same because she climbed onto Francesca’s lap, her knees straddling her thighs, as she grabbed Francesca’s jaw and slanted her lips against hers.
Francesca opened up to her immediately, deepening the kiss, her hands squeezing Michaela’s hips as her tongue brushed against hers.
It was intoxicating. Francesca would never get tired of Michaela’s kiss. The way her perfume enveloped them, the way her mouth was warm and wet and almost always tasted of the cinnamon mints Michaela was addicted to. The way Michaela always kissed her back with just as much want as Francesca felt inside.
But then, somewhere in the back of her mind, Francesca registered the sound of footsteps. She pulled away hesitantly, and saw whom she assumed was a flight attendant, minding her own business at the front of the plane. But still, it was enough to embarrass Francesca for being so public.
Michaela pressed a quick peck onto her cheek and stood up. Francesca missed the weight of her but knew they’d be alone again soon enough.
Michaela sat in the seat besides Francesca and reclined it immediately. She dug through her purse and produced a book and pencil, holding them out for Francesca to take.
“Birthday gift, number two,” Michaela said liltingly. Francesca took the book and realized it was a crossword puzzle book.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. Francesca loved little more than dedicated hours of crossword puzzle time.
Michaela reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of her hand. “You are most welcome.”
They took off fairly soon after Francesca set in on her first puzzle. The flight lasted a little over two hours, and then suddenly, they were landing. Francesca tried to look at the window, but she didn’t recognize wherever they were.
Michaela waited until they had landed, disembarked, and gotten into the town car, en route to the hotel, to tell her where they were.
“My guess is somewhere in Germany?” Francesca said, observing the street signs and buildings with German names and words on them.
“Close,” Michaela teased. “We’re in Vienna.”
“Oh,” Francesca sat up straighter. Vienna. She had always wanted to go to Vienna — where all her favorite classical composers had written their masterpieces. Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert.
“We’ll check-in to the hotel, then grab a quick breakfast, and then we have quite the stacked day. Private tour of Mozart’s house is first, then this incredible-looking museum called the House of Music which I know you’ll love, then then dinner, then a show at the Vienna Opera,” Michaela rattled off, turning to look at Francesca.
Francesca felt nothing short of shell-shocked. A trip to the city she had always wanted to go? A private tour of her favorite musician’s house? Spending the whole day exploring with Michaela at her side?
Was she dreaming?
How did Michaela do it? How did she see her so perfectly and always give her exactly what she wanted, exactly what she needed, without Francesca ever having to say a word.
“I —” Francesca started, but shook her head, at a loss for words.
Michaela reached up and cupped her cheek. “Are you happy, baby?” she asked.
“Beyond,” she replied, leaning into the hand on her cheek and closing her eyes to keep them from welling with tears.
She was happy, she was ecstatic, she was touched and moved and emotional, she was full of love.
And then her emotions began to crystallize into one — desire. Burning hot desire.
She needed Michaela. Badly. And right away.
God, what she wouldn’t give for a privacy screen in this car right now.
She leaned over and kissed Michaela as chastely as she could manage instead, holding her face between her hands. Michaela kissed her back but was careful not to let them get too carried away.
The car ride felt interminable. Francesca’s knee shook the whole time. She needed Michaela. She needed Michaela. She needed Michaela badly.
Finally, the car pulled into the valet of a hotel. Francesca scrambled out of the car, grabbing Michaela’s hand and helping her out, before turning and dragging her inside. Fuck their suitcases — they’d find their way to their room eventually.
Michaela rushed to catch up with Francesca’s long strides, laughing.
Luckily, at least, the check-in process was quick, and soon enough they were in a very, very swanky suite on the top floor of the hotel.
“Nothing but the best, for my best,” Michaela quipped as Francesca took in the suite.
Alright. That was it.
She wrapped her arms around Michaela’s waist and picked her up, carrying her over to the bed and throwing her down on it.
Michaela bounced on the soft mattress with a laugh as Francesca pulled her legs forward until her ass was at the edge of the bed.
Francesca spread Michaela’s legs and sank down to her knees between them, until her mouth was level with Michaela’s cunt.
She pulled Michaela’s pants and panties down in one swoop, tossing them off to the side. She pushed up Michaela’s shirt and brushed her lips across her hip bones before placing open-mouthed kisses on her hip.
She trailed her lips down to her thigh, mirroring the treatment Michaela gave her earlier that morning. She kissed down to the inside of her thigh, feeling it tremble beneath her lips, before moving to the opposite side and doing it all over again.
Michaela was all soft sighs and hums as Francesca took her time with her.
She never got tired of the taste of her skin, of the feel of Michaela flexing beneath her lips, how Michaela would curl her fingers in her hair and demand more.
Francesca eventually trailed her nose up to the apex of her thighs, letting it hit her clit.
The smell of her arousal was heady. Francesca teased a finger at her entrance, feeling her wetness.
She pressed her tongue flat against her entrance and felt Michaela’s thighs squeeze.
She maneuvered each of Michaela’s legs around her shoulders and slithered her hands up to grab Michaela’s ass in each hand as she tasted her, slipping her tongue inside her.
She could hear Michaela moaning, though it was muffled by the thighs compressing her ears.
She could die happy right then and there, between Michaela’s legs, giving her pleasure. Giving her everything she deserved and then a million things more. After she was so thoughtful in planning this trip, just for Francesca, flying her to the city she’s always wanted to visit, arranging for the perfect day.
She explored and tasted and built Michaela up higher and higher, using her hands to keep Michaela’s hips steady as she tried to buck them up.
She felt Michaela’s fingers tangle in her hair, holding her in place, pulling her impossibly closer. Francesca felt a rush of pleasure flow through her own body at that.
She moved her mouth up to her clit, finding it with her tongue before sucking it between her lips. She could feel Michaela’s thighs begin to tremble around her ears, so she circled her clit with the tip of her tongue, just how she knew Michaela liked it.
“Fuck, baby,” she heard Michaela moan. “Just like that.”
Francesca would have smiled smugly if she could’ve. Instead, she stayed focused on the task at hand, swirling her tongue and trying to keep Michaela’s hips still as they rocked up into her mouth more and more as Michaela approached her orgasm.
She came with a cry, her thighs flexing around Francesca’s head. Francesca couldn’t help but move back down to her entrance, sliding her tongue inside, feeling her walls squeezing around it.
As soon as Michaela began to come down from her high, Francesca removed her legs from around her shoulders and stood up. She grabbed Michaela by the hips and scooted her up further on the bed before climbing over her, still in between her spread legs.
She began to pull Michaela’s shirt up, waiting for Michaela to lift a bit so that Francesca could get it over her head. She took off her bra next, before immediately latching her mouth onto one of her breasts.
She lathered it with attention, leaving a trail of kisses along the flesh as she moved from one breast to the other. She registered Michaela’s soft sighs at her ministrations, felt her hips moving again beneath her.
Francesca needed more of her — she always did. It was never, ever enough. She would never get her fill.
She gently grazed her teeth over Michaela’s nipple before sucking it into her mouth, her fingers finding their way back between her legs.
She slowly slid one finger inside her, giving Michaela time to adjust. She pumped a few times into her before adding another finger and setting into a steady rhythm.
“Fran,” Michaela sighed her name. Francesca responded by kissing her way back up Michaela chest until she reached her lips again, kissing her deeply, slipping her tongue inside, letting Michaela taste herself off her.
Michaela felt so warm and tight around Francesca’s fingers, it almost made her come on the spot. She curled her fingers up, finding the spongey spot that drove Michaela crazy — and when she did, Michaela moaned into her mouth, her hips rocking up into her hand, insistent now.
Francesca eventually had to pull her mouth away for oxygen, burying her head in the crook of Michaela’s neck instead as she pounded into her, her pace and force increasing and increasing, the heel of her palm pressing against her clit with each thrust, as she sought to elicit another orgasm from Michaela.
She felt Michaela’s legs wrap around her back, pulling her closer, holding her in place. One of Michaela’s hands tangled in her hair, pressing her into her neck as Francesca began to kiss at her throat. The other dug into the skin on her back.
Francesca could feel herself growing more and more aroused, the slickness between her own thighs growing.
“You treat me so well,” Michaela moaned out.
How ludicrous. It was the other way around — Michaela treated Francesca so well.
Francesca continued to thrust into her, keeping her pace up until she felt Michaela’s walls fluttering around her. Michaela came again with a cry, as Francesca continued to fuck her through it, only stopping when Michaela patted her twice on the back, signaling for her to.
As soon Francesca pulled out, Michaela maneuvered one of her legs between Francesca’s thighs and pressed up.
Francesca heard herself moan this time as Michaela rocked her thigh up into her center.
“Take what you need, baby,” Michaela said softly. Francesca did just that.
She sat up and adjusted her hips so her clit was brushing against the skin of Michaela’s thigh and jutted her hips forward and back, meeting Michaela’s rhythm. She came embarrassingly quick — just like she always did after giving Michaela her pleasure.
She sighed and let her head fall back forward to rest on Michaela’s sternum.
Once her breathing steadied, Michaela spoke up. “I think we ate into our breakfast time.”
Francesca laughed and pulled back. “Worth it,” she quipped.