#Experienced law firm

[amicus123]

We Provide Legal Services To Our Local and Global Clients

Amicus Publico is a well developed law firm in Jaipur. We have more than 10 years of experience in legal sectors. We provide a more desirable legal service to our local and global clients with flawless, constant and remarkable high-quality legal services in all major areas of India.

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game

au where brudick happens but they keep it VERY hidden to the point only cass knows but she thinks everyone does cause to her it's so obvious, so one day on their monthly family dinner that no one misses she ask's them why they have different rooms when they always go to eachother during the night. What do you think would happen? Would they deny deny deny? would they ask her what she's talking about? how does everyone else react to this revelation? do the other heroes find out? do they have opinions about it?

for the ask game!

I LOVE THIS SHIT. truly love Cass noticing things she shouldn't and assuming they're common knowledge, it's my fave flavor. this is such a fun idea-

so Cass knows from like, day one. and obviously she never says anything bc she assumes this is normal. in a way, the weird vibes between Bruce and Dick *are* normalized to the Batfam, everyone sort of. tiptoes around their weirdness (even if they don't know it's romantic) so Cass learns to do the same. she doesn't mention it bc no one mentions Bruce and Dick's bond, it's only ever acknowledged with shared looks. it takes years before she has the courage to ask and i think it's fun if she asks for an utterly mundane reason. like, Alfred makes a teasing remark about washing everyone's bedsheets and what a task that is, and Cass just drops it into conversation that Dick's bed is rarely used because he's always in Bruce's, so that must make it easier to handle.

Dick was try to play it off as a joke. just the mention would make Bruce go silent, for once finally not having a contingency plan on how to handle something. he and Dick were never supposed to happen in the first place, it was so accidental he's never considered the possibility of someone finding out bc they're so careful, though in hindsight, of course he should've known Cass would've figured it out. Dick would awkwardly laugh, try to say something to the effect of "very funny, but we're not *that* close haha" just to break the tension. Cass doesn't give in, though. she's not the best at social cues and doesn't understand the desperate look Dick is giving her, trying to get her to drop it. she pushes on and corrects Dick, insisting she doesn't judge them for it. Bruce would finally snap back into reality and give a more serious denial, quickly changing the conversation before anyone else can press.

the issue is, the minute Cass says it out loud, it becomes *so* obvious. especially to Tim, who has the biggest "oh my GOD" lightbulb moment of his life. there is no unseeing it. it takes him a while to process how he feels about it, the same with everyone else. for a week, there's an obvious tension. no one will say anything, but everyone knows and is trying to sit with it to decide how they feel. it's not a simple situation to feel one way or another about. that's when the questions start. Tim asks Dick questions, Alfred asks Bruce questions. how old was Dick, how did it happen, all the things Dick and Bruce have never wanted to have to answer. bc none of the questions have clean answers. it was a slow and gradual relationship. sure, they can say the first time they slept together, but that doesn't *really* count as the start of things. the start goes back to when Dick was still a teenager, probably underage. even if nothing happened, they both knew. and the way they dance around the questions makes that obvious.

most of the Batfamily i think, would begrudgingly accept it. it's too late to convince Bruce and Dick out of it now, and at the end of the day, Bruce and Dick will always choose each other over anyone else. fighting it just increases the chances of getting ostracized and pushed away by the two of them. feelings vary. i think Alfred would be the least happy about it because he was there when Dick was just a 10 yr old. everyone else only has memory of Dick as an adult, but Alfred watched Dick grow up, raised by Bruce, so he just can't shake that image. Tim sees it as one of those things you just have to accept about Batman, and carefully considers his role as Robin and makes sure he focuses on making sure Dick is happy/safe as well as Bruce. if nothing else, Tim will put his feelings aside to be the Emotional Support Child. Barbara would distance herself from the Batfam for a while just to sit on it, because she also saw Dick as a kid and it sits wrong with her. long talks with Dick convince her to let it go, but she does keep a *much* closer eye on Bruce to be sure this doesn't become a pattern. i think she'd enlist Cass to make sure Bruce never shows romantic/sexual attraction toward other Robins. Steph and Jason are equally apathetic toward it, being the ones who are most negative toward Bruce. they just shrug and go "yeah sounds like some shit Bruce would do". Damian's a bit of a toss-up. i think it'd really throw him for a loop and he'd be far more critical of Dick in the beginning, but once he approves of Dick, he'd *really* latch onto him.

i do think the rest of the hero community would find out. not on purpose, but the leak happens. Babs vents her feelings about it to Dinah, Helena, and Zinda. Tim mutters about it to the Titans. and Jason will tell anyone who asks because he doesn't have a rat's ass to give about Bruce's precious reputation. (if anything, he'd purposefully try to ruin Bruce with that info) the hero community... varies. i think Oliver would be the *most* pissed. Oliver is very similar to Bruce, in that he's taken in his share of strays, but he was objectively a lot better at it than Bruce. it causes a minor public scandal when Oliver drinks too much at some gala and just. publically beats the shit out of Bruce Wayne, incoherently talking about something to do with him being a creep. i could see Oliver rallying support from people like Barry and Arthur who also have young sidekicks and would agree it being fucked up. i don't think Bruce would be entirely ejected from the hero community, but he would be quietly removed as a chair member of the Justice League and have most of his power as a team leader stripped. no matter how much damage control Dick does, insisting he was an adult when anything real happened and he consented, no one can look at Bruce the same. sort of a bittersweet ending, Bruce and Dick are together and no one can take that from them, but there's still realistic reaction and blowback to it, which i personally think is a lot of fun.

[arcmonkeys]

i must not go on indeed.com. job applications is the mind killer. job applications is the little-death that brings total obliteration. i will face job applications. i will permit it to pass over me and through me. and when it has gone past i will turn the inner eye to see it's path (most likely continued unemployment). where the job applications have gone there will be nothing. only i will remain

[guardianlegalgrp]

Website : http://guardianlegalgrp.com

Address : 15760 Ventura Blvd. Unit 1905, Encino, CA 91436

Phone : +1 818-287-7099

A short description: Welcome to Guardian Legal Group, where we are dedicated to providing our clients with the highest standard of legal representation. As the brainchild of founding partners Mike Dermendjian and Hakop Zakaryan, our capabilities span across different disciplines, helping clients face legal challenges with ease. We collaborate with clients to provide innovative and tailor-made solutions, while cultivating relationships that enhance and simplify the client experience. Guardian Legal Group's main areas of practice include Personal Injury, Lemon Law, Civil Litigation, Business Law, Property Damage, and Contract Law. Contact us today for a free consultation regarding your case!

[advocate-paresh-m-modi]

Free Legal Advice In Ahmedabad | Free Legal Advice Near Me In Ahmedabad । Free Legal Consultation In Ahmedabad | Advocate Paresh M Modi

[lewisjurnovoyfwb]

Legal Law Firm in Fort Walton, FL - (850) 863-9110 

Lewis and Jurnovoy is a local law office serving the Florida Panhandle. We specialize in bankruptcy law, including Chapter 7 and Chapter 13 bankruptcy. We will work to achieve the best financial remedy for your outstanding debts.

Lewis and Jurnovoy 151 South Mary Esther Cutoff Ste. 103 Fort Walton Beach, FL 32569 (850) 863-9110 https://www.LewisandJurnovoy.com

[lawfirm-elixir]

Here are three tips to help you find the best lawyer:

[anlawvietnam]

Navigating Legal Challenges with a Skilled Litigation Lawyer in Vietnam

Introduction

Regarding legal matters, having a skilled litigation lawyer in Vietnam can make all the difference. Whether you're facing a complex business dispute or a personal legal issue, having the proper legal representation can ensure that your rights are protected, and that you have the best chance of achieving a favorable outcome. In this article, we'll delve into the world of litigation law in Vietnam, exploring the role of litigation lawyers and the expertise they bring to the table.

Understanding the Role of a Litigation Lawyer

Litigation lawyers play a critical role in the legal system of any country. In Vietnam, these legal professionals specialize in handling disputes that end up in court. Their primary goal is representing their client's interests and advocating during legal proceedings. These proceedings can range from civil cases involving contract disputes or personal injury claims to criminal cases that require a strong defense strategy.

Expertise in the Vietnamese Legal System

Like any legal system, the Vietnamese legal system can be intricate and challenging to navigate. A skilled litigation lawyer's in-depth understanding of local laws, regulations, and procedures enables them to craft effective legal strategies tailored to their client's unique situations.

Vietnam's legal landscape has nuances, and having a lawyer well-versed in the local legal intricacies can provide a significant advantage. A seasoned litigation lawyer can provide expert guidance, whether it's familiarity with court procedures, knowledge of precedents, or an understanding of cultural nuances that might impact legal proceedings.

Authoritativeness and Trustworthiness in Legal Representation

A reputable litigation lawyer in Vietnam exudes authoritativeness and trustworthiness. They are respected figures in the legal community due to their knowledge and experience. Clients rely on their expertise to make informed decisions and guide them through legal disputes' complexities.

Trust is a fundamental aspect of the lawyer-client relationship, especially in litigation cases where sensitive matters are often at stake. A trustworthy lawyer communicates openly with clients, informing them about case developments, potential outcomes, and legal strategies. This transparency fosters a sense of confidence and reassurance.

Experience that Counts

When seeking a litigation lawyer, experience matters significantly. Seasoned lawyers have encountered many cases, honing their skills and strategies over the years. Their experience equips them to anticipate challenges, foresee potential roadblocks, and devise innovative solutions.

The AN Law Firm underscores the importance of experience in litigation law. With years of experience handling diverse cases, their team of skilled lawyers is well-prepared to tackle even the most complex legal challenges.

The E-A-T-E Factor: Expertise, Authoritativeness, Trustworthiness, and Experience

The E-A-T-E factor is paramount when searching for a litigation lawyer in Vietnam. Expertise ensures that the lawyer deeply understands local laws and regulations. Authoritativeness and trustworthiness are built through a lawyer's reputation, ethical practices, and transparent communication. Lastly, experience validates a lawyer's ability to navigate intricate legal landscapes.

Conclusion

In conclusion, having a skilled litigation lawyer in Vietnam is a crucial asset when facing legal challenges. Their expertise, authoritativeness, trustworthiness, and experience collectively contribute to effective legal representation. By partnering with a knowledgeable litigation lawyer, individuals and businesses can confidently navigate the Vietnamese legal system, knowing their rights and interests are well-protected.

[compensationlawyersydney]

Navigating Legal Waters: Why You Need a Compensation Lawyer in Sydney

Accidents happen, and when they do, the consequences can be overwhelming. Whether you've been injured in a car accident, suffered a workplace injury, or experienced medical malpractice, dealing with the aftermath can be incredibly challenging. In these difficult times, seeking professional legal help becomes crucial. This is where a Compensation Lawyer Sydney can be your guiding light. With their expertise and knowledge of the legal system, they can help you navigate the complexities of your case and ensure you receive the compensation you rightfully deserve.

Understanding Compensation Law

Compensation law is a branch of personal injury law that allows individuals who have been injured due to someone else's negligence or misconduct to seek financial compensation for their losses. It covers a wide range of incidents, including motor vehicle accidents, workplace injuries, public liability claims, medical negligence, and more. While the law aims to provide justice to the victims, understanding and successfully navigating it can be an arduous task for an individual without legal expertise.

Expertise and Experience

One of the primary reasons to hire a compensation lawyer in Sydney is their expertise and experience in handling similar cases. These professionals specialize in compensation law and have an in-depth understanding of the legal framework and precedents specific to Sydney and New South Wales. They stay updated with the latest legal developments, ensuring that your case is approached using the most relevant and effective strategies.

Thorough Investigation and Documentation

Building a strong compensation claim requires a comprehensive investigation and meticulous documentation. A skilled compensation lawyer will gather all the necessary evidence, such as medical records, accident reports, witness testimonies, and any other relevant documents. They will analyze and organize this information to build a compelling case on your behalf. By taking care of these essential aspects, a lawyer eases the burden on you, allowing you to focus on your recovery.

Negotiating with Insurance Companies

Insurance companies often try to minimize their payouts, and dealing with them can be a daunting task. However, with a compensation lawyer by your side, you have an advocate who will skillfully negotiate on your behalf. They understand the tactics used by insurance companies and are well-prepared to counter their arguments. Your lawyer will strive to secure a fair settlement that considers all your current and future medical expenses, lost wages, pain and suffering, and other relevant factors.

Litigation Support

In some cases, reaching a fair settlement through negotiation may not be possible. In such instances, having a compensation lawyer with litigation experience becomes even more critical. They will guide you through the entire litigation process, from filing the necessary court documents to representing your interests in court. Their expertise in litigation strategies and knowledge of courtroom procedures will give you the best chance at achieving a favorable outcome.

Peace of Mind and Support

Dealing with a personal injury can be emotionally and physically draining. Engaging a compensation lawyer in Sydney provides you with the peace of mind that professionals are handling your case while you focus on your recovery. They offer valuable support and guidance, ensuring that your rights are protected throughout the legal process.

Conclusion

When it comes to personal injury cases, the importance of hiring a compensation lawyer in Sydney cannot be overstated. Their expertise, experience, and understanding of the legal system make them indispensable allies in seeking the compensation you deserve. By entrusting your case to a knowledgeable professional, you can navigate the complex legal waters with confidence, knowing that your rights and interests are being safeguarded. Remember, seeking legal assistance is not a sign of weakness, but a wise decision to secure the justice and compensation you rightly deserve.

[mike-rubin]

Mike Rubin is one such organization. Your query for “How can I find best divorce lawyers near me?” will be effectively resolved your problems.

[chouxpastries]

(law x afab!reader, 18+)

warnings: smut, period sex, clit stimulation. no penetration!

You’re curled up into a fetal position under the blankets, hot water bottle held to your abdomen. Law had given you painkillers before bed but you continued to twist in discomfort, pain clawing at your insides.

His arm slides around you in the dark, pressed against the water bottle to help ease the pain at your stomach.

“Shh…” he mumbles, trying to comfort you.

“It hurts really bad…” you whimper, struggling to stay in one position because of the pain.

He hums in sympathy, hand moving to rub over your abdomen instead.

His presence was helping a little, repetitive movements soothing, but the pain you experienced each month was always intense.

You whined and he curled a little closer, petting you.

“I could try that other thing you like, if it’s not too much…?” He whispers.

Your brows furrow in confusion, head cloudy from the pain. “Mm?”

“Down here,” he says, hand sliding lower.

“Oh…” you reply, wriggling a little. You think for a moment, desperate for any help. “Y-yeah, okay…”

He kisses against your head, hand slipping past the waistband of your pajama pants. Your stomach twists a little despite the pain.

The pads of his fingers slide down to your clit, slipping lower into the blood there for lubrication. Your face warms, trying to remind yourself of what Law told you the first time he’d helped you this way; he’d seen and spilled far too much blood to be disgusted by a little menstrual fluid.

His fingers rub slow circles around your clit, the sensation immediately taking full attention against the pain. Your breath comes out in a gasp, hand coming down to rest against his arm.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, kissing you again. His fingers keep a steady pace, full focus on you.

You nod a little, holding onto his forearm.

You sigh as you close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of his touch, the dull ache inside you making way for something more pleasurable.

He knows the exact pace to wind you up and soon you can’t help letting out small gasps, squirming against him.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you nod again, face hot.

“That’s it,” he whispers, voice low as he praises you. You twitch against him, heat inside you growing.

“M-more,” you mumble, and he immediately begins to circle faster. His fingers dip down again quickly, drawing up the slick and blood that have combined between your folds, the glide helping his movements.

You moan as he speeds up, fingers firm on your clit as your hips buck against his hand.

He keeps a steady pace as the coil inside you tightens, body struggling to stay still as he works you close to orgasm.

His lips kiss the back of your head as he works, and you turn against him so he can reach your cheek too.

His other arm slides under you, pulling you tight against his chest. His hand presses down on the hot water bottle at your abdomen, increasing the pressure there while his other hand works you apart.

You moan, hips bucking, the heat on your lower stomach bringing you close to the edge.

“L-Law…” you whimper, pressed tight in his hold.

“Shh,” he mumbles, kissing whatever part of you he can reach.

“M-m’ close…” you cry, legs kicking while the rest of him’s pinned close to you.

His left hand presses firmer against your abdomen while his fingers work quickly, eager to bring you to climax.

“Mmm,” you moan, coil tightening. “Law… oh…” Your hips buck against him, pain forgotten as you writhe. You hear him whisper lowly for you to cum and you gasp, hips jutting forward as your orgasm hits you, heart racing as you shake in his hold.

“There you go…” he murmurs, fingers lifting as you ride out your orgasm, not wanting to overstimulate you. You buck in his hold as you whine.

“One more?” He whispers as you settle, knowing you’re usually eager for multiple. You nod, panting, face red.

He brings his fingers down again, slower this time, and easily brings you to a second orgasm. The crest is slow, less intense but still pleasurable as you arch against him.

He holds you still as you pant, aftershocks making you twitch. He slides out his hand, careful not to smear blood on you as he pulls it away. His other hand slips free and he reaches over for a tissue, rubbing the worst of it away.

His hand moves back to your side, kissing your neck. You turn, lying on your back, and his palm moves to your abdomen, soothing over the skin there.

“Better?” He asks, and you hum.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyelids suddenly heavy.

“Good,” he replies, rubbing your stomach a little before kissing your face. “C‘mon, don’t fall asleep, we gotta wash you up.”

You groan before sighing, reaching out for his hand to pull you up.

You both clean up and slip back into bed, rolling onto your sides again. Law’s hand moves to your abdomen again, petting you slowly.

“Thank you…” you whisper, a little embarrassed.

“You never have to thank me for anything.” He responds immediately, hand tensing slightly, “I wish I could help more,” he admits, quietly.

Your hand moves up to rest on his, thumb rubbing back and forth. “You help tons,” you sigh, exhaustion suddenly hitting you again.

He kisses the back of your neck, your head, your shoulder, and holds you close to him.

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[deepcollectionredbird]

Gordon and Elise strolled through the aisles of the local supermarket, their shopping cart filled with essentials for the week ahead, and a few extra treats.

As they reached the middle of the cereal and granola aisle, Gordon winced, his hand instinctively grasping at his enlarged belly, as the pair of twins in his womb — whom he was carrying as a surrogate, for his sister and brother-in-law — kicked with vigor.

He’d been experiencing the highs and lows of surrogate pregnancy for nearly seven months, and the discomfort was something he’d grown accustomed to… but, as time creeped on, the pain in his back and hips was becoming unbearable, making it hard for him to stand upright. The little ones were kicking and squirming with such force that it felt like a full-blown soccer match was taking place in his abdomen. Gordon's back and hips ached, and he knew he wouldn't be able to move another step without some relief.

Elise's eyes widened in concern as she realized what was happening — the babies were active again. Without hesitation, she guided Gordon to a secluded spot in the aisle and stood behind him. Passersby stole curious glances at the unusual sight of the couple… but Elise paid no attention to the stares, her focus solely on alleviating Gordon's pain.

With practiced hands, she lifted his shirt, exposing his swollen belly to the other shoppers… her touch gentle and reassuring. The tiny kicks and flips were visible from outside of his womb — the impressions of little feet and fists bulging from his skin, like he’d been incubating little aliens. Elise began to rub big, soothing circles into the sides of his belly, her palms firm yet tender. She knew how to alleviate the pressure on his back and hips, easing the weight off his strained back and allowing him some relief from the relentless movements of the unborn babies.

As she massaged his belly, a sense of calm washed over Gordon, his tense muscles slowly relaxing under her touch…

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

After Wes did his part, it's Adrien's turn now

*knock knock*

"Come in! I don't usually have a visitor at 8.30 PM at summertime, to whom do I owe such pleasure? Oh....Adrien, son, why are you still in the office? Everyone usually left around 6 or 7 PM, except Cathy obviously, she's such a reliable assistant for me. Oh crap, enough with the rambling, what's up, son?" the DILF said cheerfully, unaware of Adrien's malicious intention

"Oh, the pleasure's mine, sir *close the door*. Especially when I will explore that tight hunky body of yours using that beautiful rugged hands and feeling all the raw authoritative strength coursing all over my system," Adrien said grinning as he takes a swig of his vial that he dropped to the floor with almost half of its content still left inside it. He found himself delighted with the mint-like yet more intense sensation from the potion as he tried to make his move

Taken aback with his own employee seemingly in lust with him so openly, he tried to speak a few words to get some sense back to Adrien. After all, this is the star recruit from a local Catholic college, why is he openly admitting to his homosexual desire knowing full well that his own boss is very much a devoted followers of Christ? But, the moment Adrien sprinted like his sole life goal literally placed right in front of his lanky 28 years old self, Mr. Wilson knows that shit will go south quickly, so he readied himself for an impact as he closed his eyes and raised his arm before realizing that 80% of Adrien's body already absorbed into him. Now faced with Adrien's face literally super close with his face, Mr. Wilson realized how fucked his situation at this very moment as Adrien's form seemingly turned slimy and his eyes clearly a little bit wrong

"We're going to be so close, I'm practically going to puppet your body to do whatever I desired," Adrien said with a maniacal grin that Mr. Wilson wouldn't expect coming from the usually-reserved new joiner

Adrien then lunged for a deadly kiss that will seal their fate and despite Mr. Wilson effort to move his arm to stop Adrien and turn his head away, rest of Adrien solid-slimy form still not absorbed by Mr. Wilson's body simply splashed on the surface of the DILF's face and upper part of the suit. The "slime" then moved to enter all possible orifices, be it Mr. Wilson's mouth, nostrils or ears, all entries are utilized and stuffed to the brim by the leftover slime. Mr. Wilson's body then convulsed like a fish taken out of the ocean in his seat, battling for its life as the invader inched closer than ever to take full control. His erratic movement and the spreading sensation of the invasion drawn him to unbutton his shirt and tried to do anything to stop the sensation from taking hold over his entire body. Yet, when the cold, slimy feeling managed to gain access to the veins in his cock and simultaneously reached the back of his head, he knows that he's fucked beyond repair. Eventually, Adrien's invasion overwhelmed the 51 years old muscle tank, which then roared in delight as he finally take a deep, crisp breath of the air-conditioned, sandalwood-scented executive suite from the lung of the one and only Robert Wilson. He chuckled in delight as his control become stronger with every second passed with him inside his DILF of a boss body. The body actually started to feel less and less foreign and it's like as if he's always in control of this 5'7" fit ball of muscle within minutes, so in an abuse of his boss muscle memory, Adrien slid the calloused hand Robert Wilson used to shake hands with high-powered executives and bureaucrats into the exposed muscular chest now under his control.

It instantly electrifies him as Robert's memory revealed a very sensitive nipple that always sent the law firm partner to his knees during all his sexual escapades. Adrien experienced the same knee-buckling sensation as he can sense the growing erection confined by the denim. Add to the fact that Adrien just practically aroused the 51 years old by slipping inside of him, creamy white spunk painting his underwear and the rest of his clothing is simply inevitable. Not even a minute after teasing the perky pink nipples of his own boss, Adrien shot the biggest load out of Mr. Wilson's dick as if he's been blue-balling himself for weeks! Adrien simply chuckled to the mess he created,

"Sloppy guy, don't you? Fuck I don't expect you to be this easy, sir," he said as he savored the taste of now-his cum from his finger, the taste and the deep chuckling just sent his flaccid cock into yet another semi

"Hahahahahah, I can do this shit all night long," he said as he grinned mischievously while ensuring that he cleaned all his fingers

Looking at his disheveled reflection, Adrien decided to at least clean himself up before meeting his boyfriend. Besides, he's been dying to see the inside of the executive bathroom inside Mr. Wilson's office, so he strut himself to the secluded bathroom in his soiled clothing, the shit-eating grin plastered on his face as his eyes caught the plaque of the law firm, Wilson, Thorpe, van Beecker, the idea of walking around the law firm he now basically own and demanding attention from everyone as they all practically worked for him now really drive him close to the edge. But, he calmed himself down and managed to get into the bathroom without another spunk spoiling his pants.

Inside the shower, more memories of Mr. Wilson unlocked for him. A dinner plan with his son tonight, yeah, just gonna call that sport after this whole shower to cancel it, and mostly memories about works from the past few months. The sensation feels calming and right, that all of this feels deeply personal yet very much rightfully his. It's like climbing a mountain, there's more sight and area that his eyes can see from a much higher vantage point the longer he climbed, or in this case, the longer he stayed inside this body. He can direct his focus to a certain memories even from the distant past now, like his wedding day, the day his only son was born, the moment he tearfully admitted to his wife that he fell out of love with her and reconnected with his old homosexual desire, everything becomes more and more accessible which certainly can help him to play the part of Robert Wilson through and through. He did all that with his eyes closed, head backed to the wall without realizing that his hand wandered all over his body, feeling all the muscle and the ridges of his weathered, strong physique and letting out momentary delighted moan and groan with each touches and more memories revealed. When the memories showcased the first memory of Mr. Wilson, the merging eventually completed as he no longer viewed Mr. Wilson as a separate entity and seeing his memories from third-person point of view, he's seeing and experiencing it from Mr. Wilson's perspective. As that moment happened, the climax hit Adrien very hard as 53 years of Mr. Wilson's life finally fused very beautifully with his own set of memories, making all the pain, sorrow, joy, lust, euphoria and all sort of sensation that Mr. Wilson went through crashed into his system and knocked himself off as volleys of cum wildly unloaded from the hard 9 incher monster that's been on the edge for the past couple of minutes

Adrien found himself splayed on the bathroom floor, losing track of times and his body sticky from all the mess he sprayed. But he just simply chuckled as he found himself finally fully at home inside this studly DILF body he can comfortably called his now. He just quickly wiped off the excess, drying cum from his body with the shower still running and finished his shower in no time as he cannot let his boyfriend waited any longer

As he walked back to his office, he found it weird that the door is opened and he can clearly listen someone humming from inside. And that's the voice of his son, Carl! Shit, he thought frantically, thinking of any excuse to explain why he's showering in the office and skipping dinner with his son without informing him. As he tried to keep his cool and walked into the office suite, his son suddenly greeted him first with no shirts on whatsoever

"Hello, dad. Or should I say, Adrien,"

That's when Mr. Wilson's eyes darted to the now-empty vial sitting in his desk. Who is this person and how the fuck he's in control of Carl's body????

[topguncortez]

Older, Wiser, More Experienced

Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley knew you were innocent, but he wasn't just sure how innocent you were.

prompt: “There is no way anyone is that innocent.”

word count: 3.1k

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, Bradley is 35), oral sex (f receiving), mentions of phone sex, blink and you miss it corruption kink, a dash of daddy kink.

Bradley wasn’t quite sure what he was getting himself into when he first walked up and asked for your number. The aura you gave off was a sophisticated one. You handled yourself with such poise and control that he surely thought you were near the same age as him. But then he watched as the bartender asked for your ID, and got a glimpse of the last digits of your birth year and nearly had a heart attack. You asked him if the twelve year age gap was an issue for him, and he just shook his head and smiled. 

You were twenty-three, but very mature for your age. You graduated college two years prior, and landed a good job with a well known law firm in LA, handling some high profile clients. You told Bradley that you had to grow up quick, your childhood anything but glamorous. You spent your high school and college years with your nose in your textbooks, determined to get into your dream school and become a lawyer. He admired your charisma and spunk that you had. He liked girls who had goals and followed through with them. 

However, those years of spending time alone in your dorm and apartment set you vastly against the rest of your peers. You didn’t know how to tell him, slightly frightened of how he would take it. You had only had one “boyfriend” if you’d even call it that, and he dumped you the second you said you were a virgin. But Bradley was different from college frat boys, but alas he was still a man. And you. . . well you hardly knew the first thing about sex. So, just like how you did in college, you began researching. And man, were you both terrified and intrigued. 

Bradley never pressured you with the sex stuff. He was a proper gentleman, and decided to take your cues on everything, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. Hell for the first six weeks of being together, he didn’t do more than hold your hand. It was a constant battle to not just lean in and kiss your plump lips, but he knew that his mother would smack him if he did without your permission. But then one day you turned to him during the middle of the Lion King and asked him to kiss you. 

He had been caught off guard, and it took him a second for his mind to catch up, but he obliged by your request and kissed you. And since that night, nearly two weeks ago, it was like a beast had been unleashed and was clawing its way out of you. You didn’t know that even the simplest kiss could send that shiver down your spine and in between your legs like those smut novels you read could. For the past couple weeks, that’s all the two of you have done, shared quick kisses here and there. But now you laid your head on his chest, you wanted more. His brown eyes were trained on the TV screen in front of him, and you looked over his features.

“Just take a picture, sweetheart,” Bradley looked down at you and you quickly looked away, a blush on your face. You were silent for a moment, before looking back up at him and he looked back at you, “What’s up, darlin?” 

You opened your mouth to say something, but suddenly words failed you. The only thing that came to mind was to kiss him and that’s what you did. Bradley reacted within a split second and kissed you back, but as he went to pull away, you put your hand on the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. He was surprised, but didn’t show it. His hand went and rested on the thigh of the leg you had draped over his. His rough palm sends shivers up your body as he moves his hand up and down your skin. You pulled away breathlessly, but pulled his head down to place kisses on your neck.

“More,” You pleaded and Bradley nodded, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin as he kissed your neck. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt that familiar pulsing in between your legs. That oh so delightful feeling that you had never indulged in, but loved so much. Bradley had been the only real guy to bring out that feeling, and you wanted more of it. As if he could read your mind, he pulled away from your neck and kissed your lips again, shifting your body so he could set you on his lap, straddling him. His hands ghosted down the sides of your body before resting on your hips, pulling you down even more. You gasped as you felt something hard against your thigh, and you pulled back from him. 

“What? Too much? I’m sor-” Bradley began to speak but you shook your head, “Talk to me, sweetheart, please.” He gently cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over the supple part of it. You loved when he did that, and nuzzled into the warmth of his hand. 

“Bradley, I. . . I’ve never done. . . You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed,” You admitted and Bradley slowly looked up at you. 

“What?” 

You wanted to hide, but you knew it was now or never. That if Bradley wasn’t the man you thought he was, it would be better to get the heartbreak over and done with now, than let this go on any longer. You were trying to conjure up in your head what you were going to say next on how you would explain your lack of experience without sounding totally pathetic. That’s how guys your age saw you. Pathetic. What twenty some year old had never had her first kiss? But something deep down, told you that Bradley was different. 

“There is no way anyone is that innocent,” Bradley said.

Well, not anymore. 

You snapped your head up at him, tears welling in your eyes and he quickly regretted every word that just came out of his mouth. He didn’t mean for it to sound bad. It was that he was utterly shocked. He knew that you wanted to take things slow, and so did he. He was in no rush to just get down and dirty. He genuinely cared about you, and wanted this to be more than a friends with benefits thing. But he didn’t know that your apprehensiveness was due to inexperience. Which now the way you looked at him, made him feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“No, baby, it’s not like that,” Bradley said and rested both of his hands on your back. 

“Then what is it like, Bradley?” You spat. 

“I mean it as. . . You’re a virgin.” 

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, “I am. But I’m not some bible prude.” You turned your nose up and Bradley couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, “I just haven’t found anyone that makes me. . . get. . . mushy?” 

“Mushy?” 

“That’s how they describe it in the books.” 

“Books?” 

“Yeah you know like. . . spicy books,” You mumbled. You knew that if you held a tomato up to you right now, you would not be able to spot a difference. 

You watched as that boyish grin spread across his face, “You read porn?” 

“It’s not porn!” You slap his chest and Bradley chuckles. He wraps his arms around you and brings you in close, so your head is resting on his chest. You suddenly realize that you really like this position and you think that Bradley can tell too. 

“I’m following your lead here sweetheart. You tell me what you want to do. I’ll do whatever you are comfortable with,” Bradley said, running his hands up and down your back. You nodded and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. You gently moved so you were laying on the side of him, your head still on his chest and his arms around. He hummed in satisfaction and squeezed you a bit tighter. 

— — — 

True to Bradley’s word, he had followed your lead completely when it came to sexual things. You hadn’t done anything more than just some making out and on top of the clothes touching, but you knew he was dying to do more. And he knew you were too. It almost caused you pain to push him away, put you were scared of that feeling in your body as you’d grind against Bradley’s lap. Bradley was doing what he could to help you, letting you know that the “mushy” feeling you were feeling was normal and encouraging you to touch yourself when you were alone. 

You didn’t know the first thing about masturbating, but luckily Bradley knew a thing or two about female pleasure. He had called you one night, and walked you through the steps. On what to rub, what to touch, how it should feel. You were almost one hundred percent sure that you stopped before you could actually orgasm. The shaking of your legs and that tight feeling in your stomach was too much. Bradley promised that once you actually did it, it would be the most euphoric feeling you ever felt. 

“Bradley,” You whined out as his hands skimmed up under the sweatshirt you were wearing. The two of you were having yet another movie night at his place. You were slowly making your way through the Harry Potter series, the fifth installment acting more as background noise than entertainment. Your wear leaning against the arm of the couch, with Bradley nearly on top of you, both of your legs crossed over his lap as you two made out. 

“That’s my name, honey,” He said against your skin. He pulled away from you, so you could see his face, his hand grabbing yours and intertwining your fingers with his, “How can I be of service?” 

You had been practicing how you were going to say this all week. It wasn’t something that he had even brought up yet, but during one of your research dives you had come across a rather interesting video. And of course that video led you on a deep dive into other videos, but they were all the same, with all the same outcome. 

“Do you. . . do you like, uh, oral sex?” You asked him. 

It was silent for a moment as Bradley had to restart the computer that was his brain. He wasn’t sure how such a simple, innocent question, turned him on so much. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Yes, I do like oral sex,” Bradley said. All guys liked a good blowjob every once in a while. Bradley would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of the day you’d get on your knees and put his mouth on him. 

“Do you like. . . giving it?” 

No one had ever asked Bradley that question before and it had taken him aback. But he nodded and said, “Yeah. I do like giving oral sex. Why do you ask, sweetheart?” 

He watched as you fiddled with your intertwined fingers, and as the blush creeped up your neck. You smiled softly as you looked up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and wonder. 

“Could you. . . Could you give it to me? Oral sex, I mean.” 

Bradley could not think of a single sensible word in his head, so all he did was lean forward and kiss you until his mind could catch up. No girl had ever asked him to give them head, and not that he expected them to. He’d always ask the girl if she was okay with it before he settled between their legs, but he had never flat out been asked like this. And it made him want you all that much more. Bradley pulled back from the kiss and nodded, pecking your forehead. 

“Yes. Yes, I can give you that,” Bradley said and you nodded like an eager child on Christmas, “Get comfy, baby. Do you want to stay here or go to my room?” 

“Here, please,” You answered quickly. You hadn’t ever seen Bradley’s room before and for some reason, going to his room felt too. . . intimate. You weren’t ready for that step yet, so you let Bradley help you sit up so your back was resting against the back of the couch, and he could kneel in between your legs on the floor. 

Bradley kissed you passionately, one of his hands tangling in your hair, while the other rested on your hip. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him as close as he could get with the couch in the way. His hand on your hip slowly crept its way towards the front of your yoga pants. You knew that he could probably feel how wet you were through the thin material, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You needed him. You needed him in a way you never needed a man before. 

“You can stop me at any time,” Bradley murmured against your skin, as he pressed hot kisses to your neck, “Just pull my head back and I’ll stop.” 

“What if I don’t want you to?” You asked and Bradley smirked. 

“Then pull me in closer,” He whispered against your lips. A shiver ran down your spine as Bradley sat back on his heels, his fingers hooked into the top of your pants and pulled them down your legs. You knew that green was his favorite color, and you went out to buy a dark green pair of lace panties for the occasion, “Too good for me,” Bradley’s voice had an extra rasp to it, as his finger traced over the lace pattern covering your cunt, “All so cute and untouched. . . just for me.” 

“Just for you. . .” He smirked as he could hear in your voice that you were holding back one small little word, but he’d let it go for now. You’d say it when you were comfortable enough to. And Bradley was dead set on getting you to say it. 

Bradley leaned forward, so his head was resting between your parted thighs and placed a kiss on the wet spot on your panties. Having him so close to where you had dreamt about him being was like a headrush, and your hand went to his hair for support. Bradley chuckled as he placed another feather light kiss in the same spot, and nuzzled his nose against your cloth covered clit. 

“Haven’t even gotten to the good part and you’re already gripping on for dear life,” He said and you felt your ears turn red, “It’s okay, sweet girl. I got you. I’m gonna take these off now, okay?” 

“Okay, Bradley,” The sound of your voice was so innocent, and trusting. It filled Bradley with a sense of pride that you trusted him so much to be your first. He sore that it made him fall in love with you even more. 

Ever so carefully he pulled the panties from your body, setting them gently next to your pants. He grabbed one of your ankles, placing a kiss on it before putting it over his shoulder. He leaned in closer to you again, grabbing your other leg and putting it on his shoulder. You looked up at the ceiling and gulped, then you felt his tongue on you. Your jaw dropped, a silent gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut, your hands in his hair. He licked a stripe from your opening to your clit, getting the taste of you on his tongue. He swirled his tongue around your opening several times, before finding your clit. 

“Oh!” You moaned, as he sucked your clit into his mouth and then swirled his tongue around it. This felt better than you could’ve ever imagined it. 

“Can I touch you?” Bradley asked, and you had to open your eyes and look down at him to focus on what he was talking about. Then you felt it, his finger gently rubbing against your folds, “It’s up to you. I can just use my-” 

“Yes. . . Touch me,” You answered and Bradley nodded. 

He briefly pulled his hands away from his core to stick his middle and ring fingers in his mouth to wet them, before he was placing his middle finger back on you. 

“This might hurt, tell me if it’s too much,” You grabbed Bradley’s free hand and squeezed it, letting him know you understood. 

His mouth was back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, and you felt the feeling of his finger sliding into you. His finger was much larger than yours, and you felt a slight stretch but then it went away and pleasure filled your body. Now you were moaning, not trying to hide the sounds you were making as Bradley ate you out. Between the movement in and out of your core to the way his tongue sucked and swirled around your clit, you were in total bliss. Bradley was right, this was the most euphoric feeling ever. 

“Christ! Bradley, I. . . Oh my god!” Your back arched as you felt that familiar feeling in your belly. The one that would always make you stop immediately and lay panting on your bed. Your legs began to shake as your stomach contracted, “Bradley, I-” 

“It’s okay,” Bradley said, and kissed your thigh, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes from the beautiful feeling, “Then let it happen. Just let me make you feel good. Just close your eyes and let it happen.” 

You nodded and your eyes fluttered shut as he put his tongue back on you. You screwed your eyes shut tightly, and Bradley grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. He looked up at you right as the dam broke; your back arched off the couch, your mouth wide open in a silent moan, your legs shaking, nipples hard. It was an absolutely beautiful sight. He believed that you were painted by angels. He kept fingering you and lapping at your cunt as you rode out your high, hearing as the breath entered your lungs again. You very weakly pushed his head away, and Bradley sat back on his heels, his mouth glistening with your cum. 

“I. . . I never let that happen,” You were still seeing spots in your vision, but it slowly started to feel like you were coming back down to the planet earth, “I always stop when I start to feel that. . . uh-” 

“Orgasm?” Bradley asked, his hand was rubbing your bare thigh and you nodded, “Poor girl, you’ve been edging yourself for weeks. No wonder you came so hard.” 

“Edging?” 

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. He leaned up and placed a kiss on your lips, “My sweet girl. . . I have so much to teach you.”

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow my library blog for notifications when I post:) @cortezslibrary

[jals-stuff]

a routine.

Orter Madl x f!reader

Obnoxious, sour, call him whatever you want, Orter Mádl couldn't care less about what people thought of him. You can’t help but wonder if that’s what you find attractive, or if you just have a thing for authoritative, serious-looking jerks (because I do).

Warnings: slight angst? orter is a jerk, hurt (just a bit) with comfort, reader being too nice.

Word count: 3.4k words

Note: again with no sleep, sorry for any spelling mistakes, don't stone me to death. thought about making a part 2 for this, no clue yet let me know what y'all think. (i swear i have never simped for a man that hard before)

definitions at the end, but it doesn't matter if you don't read them so no worries! enjoy-

Indeed, Orter was a man who would sweat for the status quo to be protected. If this man had his name on an alignment chart, the creators would have to make up something like “lawful lawful”. That is how lawful Orter Mádl gets. It didn’t matter to him how people perceived him, or whispered to each other whenever they saw him walk through the large corridors of the Bureau of Magic. Few things mattered to him in fact, but if he had to put them into a list, it would look like this:

Making sure rules and order are respected

Staying undisturbed during working hours (and out of working hours, too)

Not doing anything unnecessary.

He had a very specific routine he followed almost perfectly everyday, and so far, nothing had pushed him to change it. No one had, either, because from an ordinary person’s point of view, Orter was nothing else than a sour workaholic, strict, obnoxious man. Most women (and some men as well) who worked at the Bureau always seemed to look to the ground when crossing his path, while the other ones were too busy gossiping about him being a potential serial killer, since he was “so calm and quiet”. But one (wo)man’s trash is another (wo)man’s treasure and surely enough, you were one hell of a hungry raccoon lady. 

You had been working at the Bureau for almost a year now, and since the very first time your eyes had landed on him, you knew he was the one you wanted. And since that day, you were one of the only people who even dared speak to him— if you don’t count the other Divine Visionaries as people (because Kaldo’s… obsession¹ with honey made him a creature, and not a human being, we have to be honest here). 

You’d always greet Orter when meeting him in the morning, or wish him to have a nice break time when he’d actually allow himself to take a break, and he would simply greet you back, always giving you the same confused look. Simply seeing him illuminated your days and kept you going through your seemingly unending workload. Yet, as much as you enjoyed these small interactions, the same couldn’t be said about him. 

Orter didn’t dislike these despite the way he looked down at you everytime you greeted him. He simply wasn’t used to such… fervour² from any of his other colleagues. You were certainly very passionate, and he had to put in a lot of effort not to just immediately send you away whenever you’d bring him coffee when you had free time or simply try to chat a little when you were to give him a report. 

It wasn’t against you or anything specifically, but Orter was a firm believer that saving energy was the move. After all, why bother doing anything that is unnecessary? 

Even if it, indeed, was nothing personal, you were pretty much everything he disliked. Noisy, talkative, full of energy, sPEED, and quite naive as well. The embodiment of a child who has been given too much sugar and is now experiencing the zoomies. 

And so, like an uninvited grain of sand in his eye, you slithered your way into his daily routine. Each morning, before entering his office, he knew he would encounter you at this specific time of the morning shift, by turning this corner. It happens everyday, and it will happen again today. He knows you get your break at 10:05 am and usually will knock on his office door at exactly 10:11 am to bring him your reports as well as some coffee you grabbed for him.

He knows that in the afternoon, usually between 3:48 pm and 4 pm, you’ll find an excuse— any excuse to bring him some pastries, or any kind of snack with another cup of coffee, but this time a bit more sugary. 

He has gotten used to it now, but he still cannot quite understand why you’re spending so much energy on him, and when Orter doesn’t understand something, he gets frustrated. He does not often interact with anyone, and so the fact that people around him might have feelings is completely unbeknownst to him, or so it seems. 

...

It’s approximately 4pm on that day and, as usual, you knock on his door. He looks up from his paperwork and just mutters to come in, knowing damn well it’s you. But this time, you’re not bringing any coffee or snacks. You just hand him a report you had written, as usual, and he notes that you look a little nervous.

You patiently wait for him to read through your carefully written report. He gives a nod, not even a word, as usual, and this time, instead of immediately leaving, you decide to speak up.

“Umm..” you start, and you start wondering whether this is a good idea or not. He’s looking at you now, in all of his cold, emotionless expression. “So… would you maybe… like to have your coffee break with me this time…?” you ask, looking away a little bit.

He leans against his chair’s backrest at the suggestion. He could definitely use a break and some coffee right now, but he isn’t sure if he can take the amount of energy you’ll be talking with for the whole duration of your time together.

“With you?” He asks, and you’re unsure if he means this in a mocking way, or if he’s just asking. You shyly nod and he adjusts the position of his glasses a little bit. “I could use a break,” he starts “but I’m not sure I can handle more of your… eagerness to converse³.”

It hurts quite a lot; you knew Orter had always been blunt, but to hear it from his mouth was something else. Were you really bothering him that much? Maybe he didn’t mean it in a bad way? After all, he did have a lot of work, and of course he’d like to free his mind a little bit and enjoy peaceful silence with his afternoon coffee. He quickly takes note of your nervous squirming and your lack of response.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he finally says after what seemed like an eternity “I don’t want this headache to get any worse.”

A headache. Was this really all you were to him?

“I.. can stay quiet if you’d like me to, but I would really like to have—”

“No, thank you. I’ll have coffee on my own. ” He cuts you off, looking back to his paperwork, probably very oblivious to the fact that he just hurt you deeply. “I don’t understand why you’re so eager to interact with me when all I’m really asking for is to be undisturbed.” Was it personal, or was it because of his lack of human interaction? Well, both meant the same to you, if you really were the only person he interacted with, it was directly against you.

You didn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t give up on him, of course, but your entire personality had just proven to be a nuisance to him, and you weren’t sure how you’d recover from this one. You had been standing for a minute, looking at the ground in front of his desk, before his authoritative voice you loved so much pulled you out of your overthinking.

“Anything else?”

You shake your head ‘no’ and promptly exit his office now. It sounded clear to you that you were a disturbance to him, and it was the complete opposite of what you wanted to be. But again, no matter how bad his rejection felt, you decided you’d be a little more like he wished you’d be: invisible, silent.

You made a mental note to change your behaviour around him and stop being so clingy and noisy all the time, then maybe, if you destroyed this personality of yours he seemed to loathe, maybe he would look at you. Even just once.

...

Orter arrives at the Bureau the next day as usual, and already knows you’ll be just around the corner where he meets you everyday. He gives a sigh and walks around… to find no one. He blinks a few times in surprise, but simply assumes you’ll be somewhere else, ready to greet him…. But there’s no sign of you. Or rather there is one, but it’s only the usual morning coffee you give him, and it’s sitting on his desk inside his office. You, on the other hand, aren’t here.

“Probably a different schedule today.” he thinks and quickly dismisses it to sit at his desk and remove his coat. He takes a few sips of the warm coffee and sighs before diving into his unending paperwork again.

As expected, there is a knock on his door at 10:11 am. He lets you come in and is pleased to see you’re still bringing him some coffee, along with your usual report. You quietly greet him and hand him the papers as you put the tall coffee cup on his desk, and await his review. Again, he gives you a nod and puts the papers back into his drawer, and as he looks up from his paperwork again to listen to your usual morning talk, he’s surprised to see you leave his office without a word.

“Probably has more work today.” he thinks, dismissing the change in your behaviour as the man sinks into his paperwork once more. You, on the other side, are only hoping your efforts aren’t vain. You’ve practised staying silent for a bit and you think you’re nailing it, honestly. All for the sake of the obnoxious, lawful man.

It doesn’t occur to him even once that you might be in emotional pain from his words; he isn’t well versed with other people’s feelings— and probably not his own either. You probably have more work today, and that’s why you’re not as talkative as usual. Or maybe you’re tired. Are you sick?

He stops himself for a second and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes a little; no. No, no. It shouldn’t matter to him whether you are ill or simply tired. He has too much work to do to care about one of his coworkers.

Roughly around 3:50 pm, you knock on his door again, bringing in the usual pastries and sweet coffee. Now, he’s wondering which excuse you found to visit him as he crosses his hands on his desk and looks at you intently.

His eyes on you start to feel uncomfortable. It’s like he’s tearing your soul open and trying to figure out what’s going on in this little skull of yours⁴, and really, it isn’t just an impression. He was expecting you to ask him out again, or talk about the weather, complain about your workload, but none of these words escape your mouth. A simple, polite “have a good afternoon”, and you’re gone immediately.

Your schedule must really be something else for you to quit pestering him about your state of mind like you used to do. But again, he takes a bite of the delicious pastries you brought him, and keeps working in religious silence as he occasionally takes a sip of the sweet coffee you delivered.

Time flies fast, and it’s already evening. You clock out, as one does, and as you walk away from your office, you encounter Orter, who seems to be clocking out at the same time. And this is when the overthinking kicks in. Is he going to think you waited for him? Will he believe it was a mere coincidence? What if he thinks you’re being clingy and annoying for clocking out at the same time? 

But your thoughts come to an end as he simply walks away without a word; maybe he just doesn’t care. Right, maybe he just doesn’t care. It probably didn't matter whether you were quiet or talkative, hyper or calm. He probably didn’t care.

...

The next morning, you arrive earlier at the Bureau, as you did yesterday, and fulfil your morning routine: getting a few snacks for yourself, and a tall coffee for Orter. But unfortunately, the cafeteria is a bit more crowded than usual, and you end up exiting it at the same time you usually did. 

He encounters you again at the very same corner, and he is now convinced you simply had a rough schedule yesterday, but as he was about to greet you, you simply hand him the coffee and walk away towards your office without a word. 

The day goes on like the previous one; you barely exchange any words with him, and he makes no effort to change this. You’re quiet, reserved now, and you just internally pray that he will like you more. This isn’t you, but you will be whoever he wants you to be, if there’s the slightest chance that he will look at you.

What you were completely clueless about was how this little change of yours was affecting him. At first he didn’t think much of it, but he had gotten used to your nonstop talking, to your cheerful voice when you greeted him, and to the very specific hours you’d come to visit him and ask him out or talk about everything and nothing. 

Orter was going nuts. The routine he had gotten used to was crumbling for reasons unknown, and he couldn’t understand why, it was beyond his power. The grain of sand in his eye⁵ had become an entire desert, and the frustration was great enough that he could barely focus on his work anymore. Something was missing. He needed to figure it out quickly.

His focus was long gone, and all he could think about was why the usual, cheerful girl who always greeted him with a smile and warm coffee had become so… dull and painfully normal. Had you been sick the whole time? Why did he even care in the first place?

But as much as he disliked admitting it, he had grown quite fond of your behaviour, even though his words had proven to oppose this fact. He needed to make sure of what was lacking in his daily routine now. You were still here, you still brought him coffee everyday, did your job correctly… What could be missing?

His mind was a complete mess and he could not get you out of his head for some reason, which made him even more annoyed. You were such a headache and a nuisance, right? He couldn’t possibly be going insane from the lack of… you?

As usual, at 10:11 am sharp, you visit his office with your daily report and his coffee. This time though, he doesn’t take the papers from your hands and just crosses his legs, looking straight into your eyes. “I would like you to read it out loud for me.”

Read it out? You ask yourself, why couldn’t he read it himself? But again, we are talking about Orter Mádl; this man could tell you to get on all fours and bark, and you would gladly do it without giving it a second thought.

“...right.” You started, a little confused at his sudden request. “The Bureau’s investigation on Magol Castle…”

Your words grew distant to him, but not your voice. He wasn’t listening, he was listening. He felt himself oddly soothed at your tone, for once, as he kept trying to find this missing piece of the jigsaw. But it was as if his focus had returned and he could finally get back to work. As soon as you stopped talking, he extended a hand for you to give him the reports, and you did.

“Good, very good. I’ll read it again later.”

You stood in awe for a second; Orter had just praised you. Your efforts were working, and now you just had to keep going and stay quiet most of the time. You gave a polite nod and walked away from his desk. 

“Wait.”

That was it. You were the missing piece. But it made no sense, since you hadn't left, you were still here with him at the very moment... but then why did it feel like you weren't?

You turn around as you hear him speak and you just stand there, waiting for him to keep going. The silence is heavy and it seems like an eternity before he finally speaks up again.

“You’ve been… quiet.” He remarks, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t tell whether he meant this in a good or a bad way. Of course, his expressions always suggested that everything he said was to be taken in a bad way, but you knew better than to assume anything, especially about Orter Mádl. “Why?” he asks, and there’s an undertone of desperation in his voice. He sounds like he’s at his wit’s end.

At this point, you can’t really do anything else than speak up and tell the truth, can you? So you take a few steps towards his desk and nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“I… do not wish to be a nuisance or give you a headache.” You simply reply, in all of your honesty, and he looks at you, clueless and distraught now. Was that the reason why you had been silent the entire time? Were you driving him completely crazy because of what he said to you?

He buries his face in his hands and sighs. His glasses were slightly falling from his nose now that his hands were rubbing it entirely. You walk around his desk and gently push his glasses back in place, his state worrying you a little bit. You had never seen him being affected by anything before, so you were a bit confused.

“Are you alright..?” You quietly asked, not daring to touch him too much, lest he’d find you clingy, but the man sighed loudly once again and cleared his throat, his hands crossing against his desk again.

“You are driving me insane, (Y/N).”

You’ve never heard him speak your name before, and it felt… rather nice. You couldn’t tell if his words were meant to be good or bad though, so you only stood next to him and waited for him to speak up again. An uninvited feeling of guilt made its way to your heart and you couldn’t help but feel like all of this was your fault. You only wanted him to look at you, to make his life a little easier… but instead, you had somehow wrecked it.

After what seemed like an eternity, Orter was still dead silent, and you had to do something.

“I… I’m sorry…” you mutter quietly, not fully sure of what you did, but feeling the urge to apologise anyway. His state was more than concerning and you were the cause for it. “I… meant no harm, with whatever I did to you…”

And then something hits him. A feeling he’s probably rarely felt before: guilt. He looks up at you, and you clearly look like you’re holding back your tears as you shamefully look away from him. It takes all of his energy not to get angry— but at himself this time. He was the one who caused this situation, not you.

“It wasn’t your fault, only mine.” He sighed as he took off his glasses and started wiping them to distract himself from your sad expression that was awakening a myriad of new feelings within him. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I… did get quite used to your company. Please, feel free to speak as much as you want.”

He looks up at you, and despite the fact that he still isn’t smiling, his eyes are softer now, his expression is gentler and his voice has lost its authority. He is just asking you to speak to him. It isn’t even an order, he is actually pleading.

You can’t help this slight blush from creeping up to your cheeks as you try to regain your composure. You had gotten praised by Orter today, and he even pleaded with you and apologised? It was clearly your lucky day, so you thought you might as well try your luck. You cleared your throat a little.

“A-hem… so… maybe you… would like to have coffee with me this time?” You ask, timidly.

Orter merely chuckles, still not letting his face sport the ghost of a smile. He simply pushes his glasses up to his nose and stands up, pulling his coat back to his shoulders. 

“I would love to.”

¹: this man will cover his sashimi in honey and proclaim it’s still edible.

²: read → insistence. 

³: nonstop yapping.

⁴: empty, hollow. Not a single thought behind those eyes— or so he thinks.

⁵: you, sorry.