#I got sweet taste for men who are older

[clitorphosis]

SPIT TO SEE THE SHINE

Vendetta Leon S. Kennedy x reader |18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON, smut, age gap (reader is in 20s, Leon is 37) female reader, abusive relationship, implied alcoholism, stockholm syndrome, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of ‘daddy’ (not a lot), implied erectile disfunction lmao, victim blaming, fingering, implied physical and sexual violence, forced breeding.

Summary: life gets lonelier after 30s, the realization hits harder Leon and the way to cope with it is to get his hands on alcohol… too bad booze tends to encourage him to not be a good man - ending up with a younger girl in his apartment. Maybe it is a grave mistake, but Leon is just a man and who doesn’t make them? notes: uhm, this may be a lil bit self indulgent, sorry for that :3 I DONT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE!!! reblogs, asks and any kind of feedback or interaction are really appreciated! :3

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Mama has told you not to trust strangers, the concern was referred to the men, but your ears have never held her words for a time longer than a day. Nor did you remember her words when an attractive, older man noticed you and was nice enough to ask you out. That night was supposed to be a little date, giddy and happy jumping into the front seat of his car. That’s the last thing you remember. Eventually, you can not fathom how this happened - the day later your head hurt as you were forced to swallow the hard pill: you got kidnapped by your date.

The first month was insufferable and painful, slowly growing out of your ‘rebellious attitude’ and memorizing his body language like a child in an abusive household. His gaze is everywhere, keeping you locked up in the room when he is not present, a reminder to you that there is no free choice. The food, clothes, and your free time were defined by Leon’s mood and taste which… Liked to swing, creating a mess for you both, not knowing if he was genuinely ashamed of what he had done. You hated him, dreaming about the day when his throat would be sliced, painting your hands with red just to breathe in the air of freedom.

Mama knows best. No, Leon knows best.

Sometimes Leon is mean, without hesitation, sharp words can be thrown at you when he is drunk. Blaming his misery on you. Trying not to be affected by them, not enough to avoid some of them as they cling to your mind - circling as a reminder.

“You deserve this, what did you think a man would want from a woman?”,

“you are better dead”,

“you asked for this”. Did you actually?

Sometimes he is the nicest guy around here. Showering you with tenderness and care, trying to have a normal conversation, but not daring to look into your eyes. Ashamed probably, which was bittersweet and pleasant, but confusing too. Like a couple. You promised yourself to not change the way you feel about him, even if he is sweet. Not like you have a lot of options now.

Certainly, Stockholm syndrome wasn’t going to avoid you, it didn’t take long either. You aren’t special and Leon looked so lonely, returning after work mostly devastated. The expression someone would have had while grieving over something not obtainable. Not even daring to look into your face, ignoring you until his hands do not reach the booze - drinking himself until his mood changes to a handsy one. Physical or sexual. Sometimes both. And Leon is lonely, he told it himself once. Naturally or not, anger has changed to pity, while hate is mixed with something affectionate towards him. You can’t help yourself.

As someone has said - from love to hatred is one step.

So the routine has become clear after a month of staying here, sitting on the floor and watching TV while Leon is behind you. Big brother is watching you - no, Leon is watching you. Drunk or not, monitoring whatever is on the screen is appropriate in his eyes. Not for too long you were concentrating on the blue gleam coming from the screen, illuminating both frames in the living room, now like a natural thing for you both - his fingers end up in your panties to rub your clit in slow and lazy circles. His chest is pressing against your back, focused on your expressions and squirming. His calloused fingertips press harder against your sensitive clit, to hear your voice. Your body is the biggest enemy here - like a Pavlovian dog, reacting to his touch quickly and eagerly. The skin of his fingers is wet and soaked with your slick already, in no time, filling the room with squelching and wet sounds as your moans become harder to keep to yourself. Writhing and trying to shift away, but your body tends to become immobile most of the time - there is no fight or flight, just freeze.

“You look so miserable. It is reassuring, so cute too” In misery, together. His tone is the one someone would use for a dog. Always using that one with you, but you are not a dog. Not like you have any other choices right now, other than taking like a good girl and not lamenting.

If someone would have asked you, Leon is shameless with you, not the one to be shy after a bottle of whiskey, even if he can’t get it up sometimes. His fingers nudge your soaked hole, which aches for his attention. It clenches around nothing, pathetically and you disappointedly whine at the emptiness inside you.

“Come on, open your legs, be a nice girl for Daddy” Leon cooed. His lips brush over your ear, not giving you a chance to do this by yourself - forcing your legs roughly to part wider. “So much better now”

Your hips shift, arching your back as his two fingers intrude into your pussy, curling sweetly inside it to push them at your favorite sweet spot - to enforce more moans at every jolt of pleasure hitting your body. Leon likes that, watching you squirm and open your mouth like a fish desperate for air cause of him. His grip on your jaw is tight, painful even - there are going to be bruises tomorrow and he will be apologizing like a madman.

“Daddy has been so miserable these days too, fucking Redfield is always hassling me.” You don’t know who is that. The sound of his hand fumbling with his belt and the fly of his jeans reach your ears, a loud noise of them falling on the floor. “Can’t even have a vacation, what would you do without me, baby?”

“Ughh…!” you choke on your moans. There is no thought behind your eyes, your entire attention is on your pleasure. Feeling overwhelmed at every thrust of his fingers, writhing in his hold while he is roughly pumping into your drenched hole, an uncomfortable wetness clings to your inner thighs - begging to fuck you already.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, sweetheart, but you are so wet. I can’t. Just the tip, okay? Sorry,” he groans breathlessly, giving hot and quick kisses on the side of your head. Sweet touch. His gaze darkens and his body presses harder against yours, feeling his erection press against your ass. “just… this hole is dripping, and you don’t look like you don’t want it”

You are so close actually, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, curling, and keeping the quick pace of his fingers make you almost drool while focusing on approaching orgasm. Too bad that isn’t on his to-do list. As much as he wants to see you cum, on his fingers or not, - his own pleasure is much more important, especially when his dick is hard. Whiskey dick isn’t so easy to get up these days. His fingers roughly withdraw from your soaked hole with a squelching pop, denying your orgasm. The emptiness returns and your sensitive pussy clenched around nothing again - aching to be filled again.

“So messy,” Leon mutters out, shoving his index and middle fingers in your mouth - forcing you to clean them, your tongue rolls and wraps around them, tasting yourself before he finally pulls them away. “asking for bad things to happen”

You can swear to God this made your clit throb. Wetter than you can ever be, or you are hallucinating, hoping this isn’t the case. Thoughts are quickly brushed aside when his cock is pressed in between your pussy lips, bumping against your aching clit while he rubs himself against your soaked and needy cunt that coats his flesh in your slick, lubing his length in it before he pushed his cock into you - Leon is not really a patient man. Yeah, just the tip, of course. Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch with pleasant pain and letting it slide as he pushed in quick motion until his cock got buried deep inside you. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help but tightly clench around him, his chest is pressed against your back. Relishing how tight and warm is your pussy, the best and most calming feeling for Leon - to fill you with his cock for his own pleasure. Your hair gets tugged roughly, making your head roll back while Leon starts moving slowly. His cock drags against your walls, pulling out until only a tip remains inside.

“See? Only a tip” Leon mocks you, before slamming back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You whimper and squirm, but his hold on your hair is hard - the only way to keep you under his control. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies. “Your pussy just feels so good, weren’t you made for this, mmm?”

His movements stutter as his pace slowens when his blue eyes make eye contact with the TV. You didn’t really catch on what was happening until his hand tugged your hair, directing your half-lidded gaze to the point of his interest. The sight of your image on the news, big words on the red background: MISSING PERSON. The former shelf of yourself is staring at you both, smiling brightly - not knowing there is no future for you. The volume is turned off. In this household, it is common knowledge that Leon doesn’t let you watch the news, every time getting agitated and avoiding you even more, when sober, which doesn’t last long after that. The mood swing was quick, every time it was like a loud thunderstorm, his hips make another thrust - cock hits your cervix and forces out a loud moan, involuntarily, when Leon’s cockhead grinds against it.

“This is bullshit, you know?” He hisses into your ear, giving another rough thrust to make you gasp pathetically, as he presses your head against the TV screen. “no one is coming for you. Why? Cause you are forgettable, baby, no one needs you”

“S-stop, Leon” you mumble in between moans and trying to keep yourself aware of what is happening. “T-too much, p-please!”

Your body feels like it is on fire due to the mix of emotions he provokes, your cunt grips his cock tightly while aching for your denied orgasm from before. His hand gives a hard slap on your sensitive clit, making you arch and flinch. Your pussy flutters, gripping him tighter.

“Shhh, I am doing a favor here” he mutters, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at the news while his pounding grew more erratic, intensifying wet and flesh-hitting sounds. His voice is loud in your ears, muffling other sounds, overwhelming as his cock keeps making rough thrusts into you with every word - to punctuate them. “Keeping you here, taking care of useless you that can’t do anything right”

He buries himself deep again, pausing again to relish in the feeling of his cock filling you, while your wet walls engulf him nicely - like a drug, inviting him to stay there and never pull away. Slick drips down your thighs, and his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. His hand gives another light slap on your pussy, the tightness of your walls almost makes him cum.

“Maybe a baby, what do you think about it, mm?” The idea makes him throb, sliding in and out more erratically. As if he cares about your opinion right now, his fingers tug your hair harder, but his words make you flinch harder. Tears prick behind your eyelids.

“No-no-no. You can’t cum inside, no!” He is not wearing a condom. Bad, too bad. Begging comes out naturally for you now, in between your moans. Fear coats your voice, as the idea sets in quickly - being trapped here cause of an unfortunate kid. “Not the baby! Leon, please! I’ll be good, please!”

“Of course, I can. Shut up. You like this” Leon hisses, keeping your head in a firm hold, so your eyes are set on the old photo. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t stop yourself from making noises, shifting so Leon would hit a better angle. This somewhat combines with a shame, at every hint of it your mind shoves it away. “You can’t look at yourself, too bad. Dripping even more after my words, like a whore.“

Wanting to cum, focusing more on the pleasure of his dick filling your hole - feels so wrong, but good. Like your body shouldn’t enjoy how Leon’s hips keep pounding into your soaked cunt, hitting the pudgy spot and making you repeat his name like a prayer, but your own mind and body are the biggest enemy, betraying you. His own balls tighten, as a reminder of his so soon approaching orgasm.

“You love me right, baby?” Leon whispers, voice coming out breathy and brushing against your ear shell. His calloused fingers crawl back to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly and unsteadily. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock.

“I love you, Leon, o-oh!” you hum, nibbling on the lower lip and arching, letting more noises when his dick hits your sweet spot so sloppily and messy now, chasing his orgasm. And him circling your clit with his calloused fingertips makes your legs tremble - so close to tripping and falling flat on the floor. This makes your mind fuzzy, shoving away the fear of being pregnant. Leon is nice, right? Nice enough to push you against the cold screen of the TV, it doesn’t have its use anymore. That photo faded with the news, after all. “I love you, love you,”

Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched now. His eyes are set on your disheveled look, with light traces of tears as you repeat the confession erratically, filling his mind with them. Making this normal, you love him, so he can allow himself to not feel so guilty, right? With a final and rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, giving chaste and soft kisses to the back of your head. Your body shudders eventually too, your walls spasm harder around him as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you while keeping messy circles on your sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you more overwhelmed with every flick. The warm essence fills your hole, Leon pulls out his softening cock with a wet pop, watching how his sperm slowly oozes out from your pussy. His mind is light, the hint of booze keeps guilt from emerging.

Words of love don’t feel like a complete lie now, as pleasant memories overwhelm the bad ones. They become almost an empty spot in the back of your mind, leaving only a foggy feeling of hate and dread. And your brain is weak for the bliss, hammering every moment deep in you - craving for more. Hate won’t bring you out of this, maybe affection will. Your hand grips weakly his wrist, you won’t be able to bear the loneliness after sex tonight.

“Don’t leave me” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, not processing anything right now. Leon breaks out in a weak smile, but his gaze isn’t capable of keeping eye contact right now. Still, he scoops you in his arms without a second thought. Remaining silent, feeling your weak body in his hold he can’t help but pepper chaste kisses on your forehead. Trying to prolong the sweet and guiltless moment for you both.

You should have known better than to accept that date with him.

[ynbabe]

would you write an smau with yuki or Oscar with an ex racer male reader who hangs out around the paddock a lot, maybe there could be a scene where yuki/oscar gets asked in an interview about rumors about who he’s dating and reader’s reaction gives it away?

Chose Oscar for this one cause I'm gonna make the reader similar to a certain someone hehhehe

Also let’s all pretend this isn’t like 9 months later okay 😭😭

lando.jpg

lando.jpg he's such an airport dad (he still has my passport...)

username is that oscar?? in the last pic???

lando.jpg yes @/y/n/l/nofficial did a lil therapy session

lando.jpg father

y/n/l/nofficial do NOT call me that lando.jpg Daddy y/n/l/nofficial NO-

username the comments 💀

username lando just replaced Carlos with another older Spanish man- We see u pookie we'd fall Y/n too

oscarpiastri the one time I'm featured and I'm drunk and crying? I'm calling my father @/charlesleclerc

lando.jpg you're lucky thats all thats featured lando.jpg are you sure thats the daddy you wanna call? lando.jpg deleted comment

username HELLO??? WHAT IS GOING ON???

y/n/l/nofficial

y/n/l/nofficial he stole my bike so I stole his look🥰

username I need someone to look at me the way Oscar looks at Y/n

username that hoodie looks a lil too snug bbg do u have something to tell us??

username fr like Y/n is BUILT no way that’s his hoodie

username that’s Oscars for sure

mclarenf1 driver swap?

username YES pls get y/n back just for one race guys pls i beg landonorris I agree Oscars mean to me Y/n’s nice 🥰 oscarpiastri I’m sorry I didn’t laugh at your knock-knock joke 🙄

You laughed as you saw all the comments under your post, knowing you were joining the McLaren garage for the Austrian GP.

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

You cheered as Oscar got P2 screaming with everyone else. Jumping and screaming with mechanics that used to be yours.

Everyone had thought you’d hate the boy replacing you, how you’d force everyone to side with you over him, poisoning Lando’s and the teams mind against him. They couldn’t be more wrong.

You grabbed the younger man’s fireproofs collar, pushing him to the wall.

“Y/n?” “P2 baby,”

You smiled looking down at him, giving up on being professional and placing your lips on his, trying to hold back knowing the man was tired but you simply couldn’t, tasting the sweet champagne from his tongue, you pushed one knee in between his separating them.

He gasped, arching his back away from the thin motorhome wall, grabbing a fist full of your hair, making you moan, his other hand reaching to the buckle of your belt.

You separated to breath, both panting, sweaty and blushing, resting our foreheads together.

“You think we’ve got time?” You asked, placing a soft kiss at the corner of his lips, feeling them lift up into a smile.

Just as the boy was about to speak, there was loud knocking on the door, shaking the wall next to it, “No monkey business guys,” a British voice yelled laced with a teasing tone, “Osco needs to be able to walk to the interview room,” he cackled making the other men groan.

“Shut up, Cabron, go annoy Carlos or something,” you yelled, resting your head on Oscars.

“Damn you sound just like him, I must have gotten confused,” he squeaked like a dolphin making Oscar cringe at the insinuation, pushing you away.

He pulled the door open, making the other boy falling in, “Disgusting Lando, never say that again,” he whined making the older papaya clad boy laugh again.

“It’s giving enemies to lovers, 100k words-”

“GET OFF AO3,”

“GET OFF Y/N, YOUR FRICKING LIPS ARE SWOLLEN!” He yelled pointing at his own lips, making Oscar cover his, both looking at you and back at each other, making you realise your unbuckled belt with the reddened lips didn’t look very innocent.

“Ewwwwwww!” Lando groaned, running out the room, “be at the press room in 5 minutes you disgusting rabbits, oh my god,” he cried as he sped down the hallway.

Oscar looked at you, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment, making you smile back at him, suddenly shifting to a smirk, “well, we do have 5 minutes,” you winked, making him groan and look away.

“Shut up, y/n,” he rolled his eyes and began walking out, with you hot on his heels.

You quickly caught up to him, pulling him into you by his waist while you walked side by side with him, lips to his ears, “oh, it’s y/n now? I remember something like- please, oh god, please don’t stop, ahh,” you moaned quietly, leaning back to normal and walking away, leaving a stunned Oscar behind.

“Come on, Osco, you’re getting late,” you called, smiling to yourself for causing such a reaction from the usually calm and collected man.

You had followed him to where the duo was being interviewed, cameras had been set up by the pr team, and a small section at the side for Zak, Andrea and the race engineers incase there were any questions for the team. You saw an extra chair and made your way to sit next to the boss man himself, quite happy to get to reconnect with your old boss.

The interviewer asked questions after questions with Lando being the leading man as usual, your boyfriend being the more reserved between the duo.

You took a sip of water, keeping the bottle in your hand, lost in the conversation between you and the others but heard Oscar being singled out.

“So our podium sitter here, Mr. Piastri!” The interviewer hyped up, making Oscar smile and nod, “let’s move away from the race and focus on your relationships,” he cooed trying to elicit a response but McLaren media training was a beast so all he got was a small laugh from both boys.

Lando took the lead once again, “I’m just happy it’s not me for once,” he laughed.

“Ooh,” the interviewer gasped, turning the older man at the side, “talking about relationships, rather rumours, I believe we’ve got the F1 heart throb, Y/n L/n here,” the camera panned to you, mid conversation with your former boss who nudged you, bringing your attention to the camera to which you waved at, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The man called you over, obviously happy that he could get more out of the interview.

You wanted to refuse but couldn’t, walking up to the table and finding no space as both boys had chairs, you placed your arm around Oscar, shaking his shoulder as you slightly pulled him to make space for you. You smiled at the interviewer, keeping your hand on Oscars waist, holding on to the boy so he didn’t fall of.

“Oscar, you good there?” The man asked eliciting a nervous laugh and a seagull screech from Lando.

You laughed along, pushing and pulling him back into you, his hands finding his way to your thighs to stable himself , “Oski’s about to fall,” you wriggled your brows.

“So onto all the rumours,” the man continued, oblivious to what was happening behind the table, “now the two men besides you have had plenty of rumours themselves,” which was a nice way of putting ‘WE SAW HIM KISSING A MAN’ in a pc way, “but we’ve got some sources telling us you’re in a steady relationship, anyone we’d know Oscar?” You brought the water bottle to your lips, waiting for Oscar’s answer, missing the way he’d looked at you.

Unfortunately the interviewer and camera had not, “Why are we looking at y/n?” WHAT- you chocked on the water, spilling it all over your white shirt, pushing Oscar off the chair whom pulled you and Lando down with him.

“We’re okay!” Lando screamed, one hand raised.

“IM NOT” you groaned having broken Oscar's fall.

You'd though (hoped) nothing would come of the interview, but boy were you wrong, because the edits, oh god the edits. You almost had tears in your eyes at how creative some were and actual tears about how dirty the others were.

The sound bite of you and Oscar groaning after falling had been used to hell and back and every single driver had to keep reminding you of it. Especially Lando who kept sending you thrist edits to the point you were concerned about his fyp.

But the worst part was all the speculation. And all any interviewer would ask you or Oscar would be about the rumours. You were fine with it, having dealt with stuff like this all your career but the defeated look on Oscar's face after an amazing race only to be asked a very inappropriate question about the two of you had you wanting to punch people.

After a long, long, talk with Mark and both your respective PR teams, you knew the best option would be to come out with it on your own. So you did exactly that.

y/n.jpg

y/n.jpg well since y’all got your fucking degrees and know every fucking thing 🙄

lando.jpg the duality of man ft y/n l/n and oscar piastri

oscarpiastri woooooooooooooooow suddenly everyone has a jpg

y/n.jpg hey I wanted to do this on my main but someone kept whining about pr 🫵

oscarpiastri that’s it your sleeping on the couch

lando.jpg damn idts old man y/n’s back can take that 😩

y/n.jpg I’M 25!!!

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Overwhelmed and distraught by his duties and the death of his child, King Aegon decides to indulge in his favorite pastime: visiting the Street of Silk. However, he decides this time, he wants to seek comfort in the one person he's always been curious about.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT warnings, Aegon being Aegon, mentions/implications of child exploitation, mentions of teen-adult relationships, mentions of Targcest/incest, death of a child, sexual content dontttlookatme, (Y/N)/Reader is a brothel worker, potential spoilers for S2, mentioned/implied homophobia (the Faith)

Aegon is a pathetic wet cat of a man (derogatory) but Tom is so pretty

~~~

Aegon hardly remembered the first time he'd visited a brothel.

Perhaps it was the mixture of drinks in his system preventing him from recalling the first time he'd stepped foot in a brothel. He'd been a teenager, he knew that much, and he'd likely paid for the prettiest woman in there. He'd had enough experience messing with the maids around the castle to know what to do and he'd ensured to pay well for the service. But despite not recalling the act itself or even the woman he'd done it with, he vividly recalled the worker who'd caught his eye the second visit. 

It'd been a week or so after the first visit and he'd gone in sober, willing to drink whatever the brothel had in stock until he passed out or was kicked out. He sauntered in with his typical confidence. He was a prince; everyone wanted a taste of him. The other customers in the brothel regarded him with smug smirks and nods of acknowledgment, to which he returned with the same smugness. He'd taken a seat at one of the tables and savored the way workers glided toward him in revealing clothing - or no clothing at all - with coy smiles and flirty coos. His eyes, however, failed to lock on the women flocking to him. 

Across the way, he noticed one of the rooms with the curtains drawn back by a few inches, giving view to the worker and customer inside. A boy around his age, perhaps a year or two older, sat on the bed with his rope drawn back and hanging loosely from his shoulders. A woman had her head on his chest, her eyes shut tight and cheeks stained with tears while her red-colored lips formed words.

The sight would've made him laugh, it was utterly pathetic for a grown woman to cry on the chest of a boy, but his heart lurched longingly when the boy raked his fingers through her hair and gently rocked her. The act looked so... sweet.

"Who is that?" Aegon questioned one of the women settled at his side, hardly paying any mind to the soft stroking of his chest. She tilted her head over her shoulder, searching for what'd caught his attention before she spotted the two. She gave a soft hum and looked back at him, her lips delicately dragging over his cheek and stopping at his ear. 

"That would be (Y/N)," She told him softly, her voice velvety. Her long lashes tickled his skin. "Poor Nora lost her husband to a horrible fever not long ago, My Prince. I hear he looked like (Y/N) in his youth. She seeks comfort, not pleasure." 

"I see," Aegon murmured and finally took a swing of the wine offered to him, waiting for it to settle into his veins before he gave in to the ladies around him. His eyes continued to drag toward (Y/N) throughout his stay. 

Men in brothels were no surprise, not to frequent customers, at least. Some enjoyed the company of men without facing scrutiny, some needed the money, and others were simply raised in the brothel. Throughout his visits to the brothel, Aegon learned it'd been the latter for (Y/N); a boy born in a brothel who simply never left. He found his curiosity spiked with each visit, each time he caught sight of him serving wine or slipping behind the curtain to entertain someone new.

Aegon never approached. It was completely new territory, territory he'd been told by septas and maesters he should never enter. 

It'd only been when his little son and heir died at the order of his older half-sister that he decided he couldn't give a rat's ass about what the Seven thought of him. They'd never given him a time of day, even as the King of Westeros, so why should he care? His son was dead, his sister-wife was a mess, and the Council acted as if it were all a mere inconvenience. 

When he staggered into the brothel that night, everyone stopped their doings to stare at him wide-eyed and silent. Each of them bowed, whether dipping their heads or bending at the waist and watched him as if waiting for him to crack. Aegon hated it. He hated how everyone seemingly viewed him as weak. He was the King, for fuck's sake! The wine and ale swimming through his veins made his senses and emotions heighten, forcing tears to spring to his eyes. 

"Drinks on me!" He hollered into the room, and the crowd within erupted in cheers and whoops, the energy returning to the room tenfold. A laugh tumbled out of his lips and his shoulders straightened, soaking in the gleeful looks and nods sent his way. They loved him now, even if they believed him to be a usurper or not. They loved him.

Aegon took a goblet from a table and drank its contents, feeling the liquid burn his throat and send a shudder up his spine. He set the goblet aside and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt, vibrant eyes searching the room until they spotted the object of his desire. He made a beeline for him, ignoring the ladies who attempted to catch his eye until he stopped by him and grasped his arm a tad roughly. 

"Your Grace?" (Y/N) stumbled slightly with the tug, his grip on the pitcher tightening to avoid spilling any wine. He stared at him, brows lifting and eyes blinking owlishly. Aegon had never seen him up close before, and regret settled in his belly at the realization. What a fool he'd been, letting time pass him by. 

"You're mine for the night," Aegon told him, taking the pitcher from his hands and setting it down at the table he'd been serving. The men there shifted uncomfortably under Aegon's stare, none of them uttering a single word of protest and instead turning their attention onto the other workers around. 

Brothels had unspoken rules. Everything that happened in a brothel, stayed in the brothel. No one spoke a word of what went down or whom they saw within the walls of one, unless they wished for their own secrets and pleasures to be spilled to the public. Of course, Aegon expected his new Master of Whisperers to hear of it by the time he returned to the Red Keep, but he trusted Lord Larys to keep it to himself. 

Without another word, he turned toward the nearest empty room and tugged the curtain open far enough for the two to step inside before tugging it close again. Aegon's heart raced in his chest, be it from the drinks or genuine excitement, he couldn't be sure. He turned to face (Y/N), finding the young man already seated at the edge of the bed watching him. 

"What do you want, Your Grace?" He asked gently, his head tilting to the side while Aegon fumbled to get his clothes off fast enough. He looked enticing in the soft candleglow with his rope pulled apart to show his chest and stomach. It made heat spread throughout Aegon's body. 

Discarding his layers of clothing, he stumbled forward and grabbed hold of (Y/N)'s face, lips slamming against his clumsily. "You." He exhaled and pressed their lips back together, pushing (Y/N) flat against the bed with ease and digging his knees into the mattress. His hands forced the silky robe further apart, undoing the belt and pushing it further down (Y/N)'s shoulders until he could grab a fistful of it and yank it off the bed. 

"What is it you want from me?" (Y/N) asked next, breathless and head tilting back to allow Aegon more access to his neck. Aegon suckled and nipped whatever skin he could reach, littering his skin with red and purple marks that'd surely vex the Madam who owned the brothel, but he was a king. He could do as he pleased. 

Aegon laughed airly in return, leaning back to admire his work and pressing his thumb into one of the bruises. "What everyone else wants." He responded, eyes slowly raking over the rest of his body; from his rising and falling chest down to his thighs. Irritation flared in him at the fading mark of fingers and he placed his hand over his thighs, squeezing until he ensured the only mark left was by him. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) reached out to cup the nape of his neck, and in one swift move, Aegon found himself lying beneath him. He blinked up at him and then laughed giddily, hands flying to (Y/N)'s hips and squeezing the flesh there. (Y/N) leaned back on his thighs and took him by the shoulders, pulling him up into a sitting position so they were face to face. "What do you really want?"

"Yo-" The word died in his throat when (Y/N)'s fingertips brushed back his messy silver hair behind his ear. His lips pressed together tightly, eyes jumping away from the worker to focus on the lewd mural painted over the wall. (Y/N)'s palm pressed against his cheek, his thumb stroking his skin.

The gentleness of it, the sweetness, the comfort. It was all foreign to Aegon. He was used to being slapped, pushed, screamed at, ignored. Nobody had ever touched him with genuine kindness, not even Ser Criston who seemingly preferred his brother over him, or his mother who spent most of her time staring at him in exasperation or disappointment. The only people who ever looked at him with pure love and adoration... were his children. Little Jaehaerys.. 

Tears sprung to his eyes immediately, a sob threatening to rise in his throat. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as his vision blurred, fingers curling around the sheets in a desperate attempt to stop the tears from falling. He couldn't cry in front of someone else, much less a stranger. He was a king. He had to be strong. Crying showed weakness. Aegon wasn't weak. No, no, they were all wrong. He was strong. He-

"I'm here, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed softly, and Aegon's eyes snapped back to him. He smiled kindly at him and pulled him closer, his fingers tangling themselves in Aegon's hair. They ran through the silver locks sweetly, comfortingly, detangling the knots that'd formed and scratching gently at his scalp. "I'll take care of you."

With that, the wall he'd so desperately built crumbled, his arms slinging around (Y/N)'s waist as his lips parted to release whimpers and muffled wails. (Y/N)'s arms curled around his shoulder, cradling his head and humming gentle lullabies Aegon vaguely recognized. His body trembled and shook with each sob and cry, arms pulling and tugging him closer; seeking out the warmth and comfort he'd been deprived of since his childhood. A father who ignored him, a mother who begrudgingly cared for him, siblings who hardly liked him... a dead son. 

(Y/N) only moved to lean back into the countless pillows, bringing Aegon along with him and letting the king rest his head over his chest. His skin had long grown wet with tears and saliva but he remained silent, focused on rubbing circles along Aegon's back and brushing back his hair until the hiccups and sobs subsided, quieting down into sniffles and tired sighs. Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed but he felt too exhausted to allow the emotion to take hold of him. 

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, and Aegon's face scrunched up again, the last few tears spilling down his cheeks. Nobody had bothered to comfort him, and he'd been too overwhelmed by everything to seek it from his sister-wife. They hardly understood each other. Her with her odd riddles and sayings, him with his drinking and affairs. 

(Y/N) shifted underneath him, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a handkerchief. He dipped his fingers under Aegon's chin and tilted his head toward him, gently dapping at his cheeks and under his nose, drying and cleaning the evidence of his weeping. Nothing in his face changed, no disgust or boredom in his eyes. Only the kind smile and soft eyes. It made Aegon relax fully and completely. 

His fingers tightened on Aegon's chin, tugging on it gently and pulling the king up before connecting their lips again. Aegon slumped against him, his clear mind focused on the softness of his lips and the hint of wine still on his tongue. The back of (Y/N)'s ankles met Aegon's bare thighs, carefully pushing against them until their hips were pressed together. He swallowed the breathy whine that escaped Aegon, a brief teasing smile appearing on his face before Aegon began rocking needily against him, the smile vanishing. His parted lips allowed Aegon to venture into his mouth, tongues colliding on occasion. 

The hand along Aegon's back began exploring, running over the muscles he'd developed despite spending most of his time lazying about. His hand dipped downward and playfully squeezed the mound of flesh there, a low groan escaping Aegon. He pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s, his lips curling into a smirk at the innocent look that (Y/N) gave him. Cheeky bastard. It was expected from a brothel worker, though. 

The clumsy rocking of his hips increased and the fingers that retangled in his hair gave a tug, gentle enough to not create any real pain but hard enough to get his attention. Aegon whined and dropped his head down to (Y/N)'s shoulder but he eased his rocking, his fingers digging tightly into the pillows and sheets beneath him. At his easy submission, (Y/N) smiled again and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple. 

"Good," He breathed and Aegon flushed at the way heat rushed to his lower belly. (Y/N)'s hand left Aegon's backside and reached for the nightstand again, pulling out a small round cup and bringing it closer. Despite his trembling thighs, Aegon managed to peel himself away from (Y/N), the loss of contact making his hips buck. 

"What is..." Aegon trailed off, (Y/N)'s hand taking his wrist. His thumb swiped over Aegon's fingers, pressing each down until one remained uncurled. The realization dawned on him fairly quickly, the way his features brightened making (Y/N) laugh softly before he dipped the finger into the liquid Aegon assumed to be some sort of oil. 

"I'll guide you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, setting the cup aside and guiding his hand down between their bodies. Aegon's eyes flickered between (Y/N)'s face and his hand, a strangled curse escaping him when warmth greeted his digit. His free hand tightened further around a pillow, the designs threaded into it imprinting in his palm. The way (Y/N) held eye contact hardly helped with his attempt at self-restraint. 

His mind ran wild, promptly forgetting about politics or the fact they were nearing a war for the first time in decades in order to focus on (Y/N)'s face. The darkening bruises along his neck only made Aegon's mouth water and heart flutter with pride, every gentle gasp and quiet whine that left him only made his veins burn with desire, something he found more addictive than the intoxication of wine. His head swooped down, burying itself in his neck to drag his tongue over the bruises and darken them even further with more suckling.

His hand began moving, slowly and experimental at first. Aegon hardly considered himself a gentle lover, for he preferred the joy of rough and fast fucking, only ever being considerate when it came to his sister-wife. Even then, even with Helaena, he often chased after his own high and pleasure over everyone else's, but he'd been desiring (Y/N) for far too long to make a fool of himself. When he curled his finger and heard (Y/N)'s breath hitch, he smirked and slipped in a second digit. 

Aegon humbly believed himself a quick learner when it came to things he enjoyed, so by the time he added a third digit, he'd already ensured (Y/N) had turned into a panting and whining mess. (Y/N)'s heels dug into his calves roughly enough to turn his pale skin red, the subtle hint of pain only fueling him to quicken his pace. He'd left (Y/N)'s collarbone and part of his chest covered in markings, ensuring any other patrons (Y/N) took for the following days knew who'd taken him to bed. 

The hand tightly gripping his bicep flew down to Aegon's wrist, squeezing around it and pulling his fingers out. His lips formed a pout immediately but he savored the gasp and light huff that escaped (Y/N). He swallowed and leaned up, capturing Aegon's lips again before pushing back against him, toppling Aegon onto his back once again and straddling his hips. Aegon's eyes brightened, his hands digging into (Y/N)'s thighs in anticipation. 

"Shit," A guttural groan left the king, his blunt nails leaving imprints in (Y/N)'s skin when he wrapped his fingers around Aegon's length, his thumb pressing over the slit. Aegon's hips bucked and he threw his head back, his adams apple bobbing with a harsh swallow. His chest heaved and a mixture of a whine and a plead fell from his lips like a prayer. 

"Easy, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed, his free hand moving to Aegon's chest and pressing against it, fingers gently massaging into the muscle. The hint of mischief in his words didn't go over Aegon's head. His heels dug into the crinkling sheets and his nostrils flared with the deep breath he took, his grip on (Y/N) loosening and thumbs rubbing over the areas apologetically. (Y/N) nodded approvingly and Aegon gave a lopsided grin. 

His composure lasted a whole three seconds before it crumbled with a few pumps from (Y/N)'s hand, though he only continued with a chuckle instead of scolding him. Aegon's eyes turned glassy again from the sensations, his breath hitching every few minutes while the knot in his stomach tightened. He let out a whiny noise when (Y/N) paused his movements, his bottom lip jutting out. However, when he caught the way (Y/N) pushed himself further on his knees and hovered over him, he clamped his mouth shut. 

Aegon's breath hitched again followed by a sharp curse as (Y/N) lowered himself at an agonizingly slow pace. A dribble of drool slipped out from the corner of his parted lips and trailed down his cheek. His mind had long gone blank, the only thing he focused on being the sensation of (Y/N) taking him with only soft pants and the occasional hiss. He desperately wished to move, to flip them over and ensure (Y/N) wouldn't be able to walk for at least a day but he wanted to be good, he wanted the praise he rarely ever got. So he remained still, hands moving to (Y/N)'s hips and clawing lightly at him. 

"You're doing-" (Y/N) cut himself off with a soft grunt, the hand at the base of Aegon's length leaving to plant itself on his other shoulder. Aegon swore he saw stars when (Y/N) fully settled on him. (Y/N) breathlessly laughed at the awestruck, hazy look on Aegon's face, his hand gently cupping his cheek and kissing him. "-so well, my sweet Aegon." Aegon whined softly at that. 

"Please," Aegon whispered and (Y/N) gave him a thoughtful look despite the teasing curl of his lips. "I'll be good." He murmured, words slurred but he hardly felt the effects of everything he'd taken that night. 

"Will you?" (Y/N) still sounded breathless, the candlelight showing off the gleam of sweat on his skin. His hands moved from his shoulders to wander over Aegon's chest and stomach, trailing over his biceps and arms until they reached his hands and laced their fingers together. Aegon nodded hurriedly, so desperate and wanting but the feeling of their hands together made his stomach flutter with a newfound emotion. 

"I-" Aegon had little time to finish his sentence before (Y/N) rose to the tip and then slipped back down to the base, the action knocking the air out of both of them and further tightening the knot threatening to break loose at any moment. One of (Y/N)'s hands untangled itself from Aegon's to slam beside Aegon's hand, a half-hearted attempt at balancing and grounding himself. Aegon held onto the other hand tightly, refusing to let him go for even a second. 

(Y/N) leaned down and pulled him into a heated kiss full of all tongue and muffled cries, Aegon's restraint chipping fully away when (Y/N) grinded down on him a few times. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arm around (Y/N)'s waist tightly, his thighs beginning to ache and burn deliciously.

"Go ahead," (Y/N) exhaled on his lips and Aegon lost himself. 

Much time passed, the sound of pained groaning and grumpy muttering from the other side of the window telling them the sun would soon be rising. The thumping footsteps of patrons nursing hangovers echoed through the brothel as they shuffled out, the jingling of coins and such mixing in. The quiet chatter of brothel workers followed, cups and chairs clinking as they began cleaning up. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) sighed sleepily, his eyelids visibly heavy and lip slightly jutted out. Aegon felt equally as exhausted but the sight of him rubbing tiredly at his eyes made his heart swell, finding himself unable to resist kissing his semi-swollen lips. (Y/N) hummed softly, his fingers slipping between their faces to push Aegon back. "You must head home. Your-" He cut himself off with a yawn. "Your kingdom requires you." 

"I'd much prefer staying here forever," Aegon responded, coiling his arms tightly around (Y/N)'s body and dragging him closer against him. His whole body ached, his muscles sore and head spinning from the beginning of a hangover. (Y/N) breathed out a snort and rubbed his cheek into the soft satin pillow, eyes beginning to droop. 

"You mustn't. They'll come looking for you, Your Grace." 

"Aegon." He groaned. "Call me Aegon."

"Aegon." (Y/N) repeated softly. "Go home."

"Come with me, then," Aegon told him quietly. At his words, (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, the sleep jerked away from his body and replaced with surprise. Aegon chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Come with me to- to the Red Keep. Come... be my paramour. You'll have your own room near mine... and- and you'll receive whatever you wish for. No one will dare say a thing."

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment before he cupped Aegon's cheek and pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. "You're exhausted, Your Grace. You do not understand what you're saying. You'll come to once you properly rest. You must go now before the sun rises and others see you." He said, slithering out of Aegon's hold to retrieve their clothes. He slipped his robe on with ease and offered Aegon his tunic. 

"I'll get dressed," Aegon took his wrist and dragged his lips over the back of his hand. "If you agree to become my paramour and live in the Red Keep." 

"We're only allowed in the Red Keep to entertain, Your Grace. You'll never be allowed to have a brothel worker as a paramour, much less a man. The Faith will never allow it. The Dowager Queen and- and-" 

"I do not care what they think. I am King. I can do whatever I want, and I want you to be mine."

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny may i have a pull-apart bread and fried dough on the house for toto wolff please !!

bakery menu!!

want to submit your own fic? then hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you have in mind! thank you for all those who have submitted, i am working bit by bit to get them all done!!! for the virginity plot, i switched a bit of the wording around. rather than toto taking the reader's virginity, the reader makes the move and asks him (i hope that's okay)!! please enjoy this toto fic :3

pull-apart bread ("i love you") + fried dough ("i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours.") + on the house (lemon water: university/college au)

cw: smut/pwp, student!reader, history professor!toto, virgin!reader, age gap (20/50), intimacy, gentle sex, pull out method, a sweet fic

toto wolff, head of the history department was a total flirt. his classes were the kind where young women would take them to get a glimpse of him. his open lectures usually drew crowds of students who wanted to see him speak about his vast knowledge of history. while his topic of interest was the history of motorsports, it wouldn't make a compelling class. so he found comfort in european history past the cold war. he liked history that was fresh and new.

exciting and younger than him. that also extended to the women he kept company.

while toto loved the students who'd come up in flattering skirts and blouses with the buttons a little open. he loved to flip up skirts and fuck like his life depended on it. but they could never get his fix the way he could with you. no you were special, perfect. you were perfect for him.

while he usually had to fuck the other girls. with you, he was fine with enjoying other forms of intimacy. when you told him that you were a virgin he couldn't very well take it from you on the first date. he wanted to be almost tender with you. be sweet and kind to you, show you what a real man is like. and while he thought it would be a short game before he either got bored or you eventually had sex.

however, he liked it. he liked the tenderness. girls your age went for men like him to fill the gap their absent fathers left. but you, surprisingly had a good relationship with your father. you liked being with toto because you felt connected to him.

"i know this sounds stupid, but i was always called an old soul!" you wanted to shyly cover your face, "i know, i know!" and before you could hide away from your comment, toto pressed a kiss on your lips.

he could taste the sugar from your iced coffee on your lips. you jumped back, not wanting anyone to see. but at this hour, no one was around. you worried, and toto found it endearing.

it would take almost two months of dates for you to work up the courage to ask toto to have sex with you. the older man was simply being so sweet that it almost made you feel bad for waiting so long.

you were at his home on a sunny saturday near the end of fall semester. you two were going to have dinner and you felt it was the right time to ask him. to go for the kill, as he said. he was making you some tea before you got comfortable to work on your final assignments for the semester.

with his back turned to you, you said, "toto.."

"yes, schatzi." he replied.

"how do i say this. this is going to sound so dumb.." you swallowed, "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want you to take mine." you said nervously as you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

he tensed up for a moment and looked over at you, his dark eyes peered towards you. the kettle finished boiling as he asked, "are you certain?"

and you nodded, "certain as i'll ever be." then gave him a small smile. toto put the mug he was going to give you down and turned fully towards you. he went to you at the kitchen island and reached out for your shoulder. you looked at him and said, "toger, please."

he chuckled before he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "of course, my beautiful." he had believed it was love, that you were meant to be with him.

you giggled a little and got up from your seat. you wrapped your arms around the older man and said, "don't worry too much, you'll get lines." the stuck your tongue out at him.

he laughed, "schatzi, i am double your age. i think i already have lines." then kissed the top of your head. he took you by the hand and brought you to the bedroom.

there had been more than enough occasions where you two slept, while you never had sex. you'd usually cuddle up with him while he read in bed, eventually resulting in you falling asleep.

you slowly got undressed once you were in the bedroom. the hands of your lover all over you. it made you squirm with want. his broad, strong hands up against your delicate sides. it wasn't hard for him to make you feel so small compared to him.

his kisses were soft, but you knew they were a bit hungry. he had been wanting this despite his attempts to be a gentleman. one could only take so much before they yearned for more. and toto yearned for you deeply. it was like the pulse under his skin. your laugh, your knowledge of history, how you fit so well next to him when he held you close to his chest.

once naked, you cautiously sat on the bed. you wanted to cover up, feeling a little shy about your naked body. but you had to have some confidence if your first time was going to go well. toto got undressed and your eyes lingered on him. you felt excited.

you had seen him shirtless before, even in nothing but underwear. but, this felt different. and the difference caused excitement to course through you. once he was naked, you blushed at the sight of his erect cock.

"is that because of me?" you asked as toto approached.

he chuckled a little, "of course it is. it's been because of you for the last few months." he captured your chin in his grasp and you giggled a little. you felt the excitement run through you.

you tried to lean up to him to give him a kiss and he met you halfway. soon toto was in the bed with you and you were laid out on the sheets with your head on the pillows.

toto's hands grazed your body and admired your beauty. you drew him in like a heat during a cold winter. your love warmed him. it almost made him want to utter the words, "i love you." but he didn't want to scare you off. but as he got between your legs and leaned in to pepper your heated skin with kisses, the urge to say those words only grew in his chest.

he was your professor, a mentor and teacher. and while he taught you deeply about the intricacies of european history and beyond. he also wished to teach you about the pleasures of sex. how to feel good with a partner.

he moved your hips a little closer to him. his cock up against your slit as you admired your beauty below him. the softness of you, so tender and sweet. he knew you could be tough, you could be strong. he had seen you debate men with a fury in class. you were passionate, like an inferno.

but under him, on the bed. you looked so sweet. that toto knew that the wait was worth it. he gently eased his cock into you, mindful of your noises and expressions. he didn't want to hurt you. while he didn't gloat about the size of his cock, it was a little more that proportionate to the rest of him.

"are you-"

"i'm perfect." you replied. getting used to the stretch was something, but you accommodated after a few moments of him settled inside of you. you squirmed a little and toto leaned in to kiss you gently.

he started to move and you moved in return. your pace was uneven, but toto found it endearing. you were trying to hard. it was painfully cute. you wanted both of you to have an enjoyable time.

those three little words popped into toto's head when the pleasure started to sink into his bones. when it made his blood run hot. he was a much older man, but he knew how to take care of such a prized possession. the student that he adored like the sun adored the earth.

he wanted to make you feel good. he wanted you to enjoy sex. sex with him! so his touches were tender as were his kisses. he rocked against you as he felt your wetness coat his length. he was able to fit all of himself into you.

you whined a little and he pulled away. when he looked at you with a bit of worry in those dark eyes. you pulled him back in for a searing kiss. everything about how you were feeling felt amazing. toto wanted to know you like the back of his hand.

"toto."

"is it feeling good?" he said. there was such a softness to his voice as he moved against you. he could feel the heat in his stomach as he moved against you. there really was no other woman like you. he had made his way through a lot of the department, but with you. you were special. you weren't a flavour of the month, you were what toto wanted all year. every day, however he could get you.

you made this old history professor for once look to the future rather than get comfortable in the past.

you nodded and verbalized it, 'it feels good. i was wondering if you could move... faster." you felt almost bad for making any sort of demands. you didn't know what the hell you were doing!

he chuckled a little, "a little demanding." he joked before he kissed you. he started to move faster against you. you felt the pleasure radiate from your core.

this was on par, if not better, than when you pleasured yourself. you squirmed a little and held onto the bed under you. you two moved together as you found toto's rhythm. the kisses grew hotter and you knew you wouldn't last long.

but that was okay, the idea of having an orgasm brought on by toto made you stomach twist in knots. good kinds of knots. you held on tightly to the covers and arched your back.

your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the intensity of pleasure come to a head and orgasm took over. toes curled, body tense. it all felt amazing as you moaned loudly.

toto quickly sealed your noises with another kiss and he continued to make love to you. he found the pace to take you at, and that excited him.

he was so much older than you. the student under him. you were all curious glances and big smiles. your cheeks were heated and your breathing heavily. you looked blissed out and it made toto hot all over. he did that to you. the first person to ever make you finish outside of yourself. what a title to have.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "everything about you is... perfect, i lo-" he stopped himself before he corrected, "i admire our time together, and want more of it." then smiled down at you. he'd get to those words later.

the thrusts continued and toto felt the pull of climax. the tension in his body. it all felt very hot.

"i'm close." he said, "i'm going to pull out." the last thing he wanted was the scandal of you getting pregnant. you had a program to finish and toto wasn't going to stop you.

he pulled out while right on the edge of climax and quickly stroked his cock. he eventually came across your stomach. watching the pearly white of his cum all over your stomach. it made him finish more than he usually did, the sight of him marking you almost added a boost to his pleasure. especially when you squirmed so beautiful. your breathing heavy pants, it turned him on greatly.

you laid there for a moment, heavily panting as you felt the lingering feeling of climax through your body. you moaned a little when toto grabbed some tissues off of the nightstand and wiped your stomach. while he got most of it off, you felt a little sticky.

he threw the tissues out and got beside you on the bed. he pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently.

"can i stay here for a little bit?" you asked, "a lot of... a lot of feelings in the brain.. good ones though!"

toto smiled, "of course, you take all the time you need. do you want me to get you your book?" he kissed at your sweaty temple.

you turned in his arms and pressed your cheek against his chest, "that sounds great... thank you."

the kissed the top of your head and said, "of course.. anything for you." <3

[jarofstyles]

hey lovely, don't wanna bother u bc you specifically put ceo but those harry pics are making me think dad's friend! harry. like maybe he is married or not. just... dirty thoughts. he is looking very very dilfy.

ACTUALLY UR CORRECT because it does also give that vibe…. So I got a bit out of hand and made it filthy.

Patreon

Warnings- age gap, daddy kink, teasing, bratty y/n, name calling/ degrading… it’s dirty but if u want more I’ll definitely continue lol

——

It was always the things she shouldn’t want. Chocolate after midnight, peeking in on Christmas gifts, looking over someone’s shoulder as they texted. Y/N knew she had a taste for things that should not be- but she had definitely taken the cake when it came to the man sitting next to her at the dinner table.

In all fairness, she hadn’t been the only one looking. It was his gaze on her legs that she noticed the first night they were introduced that she had her interest peaked, but it had been nearly impossible for her to leave it alone. Not when he was such a staple in the family dinners they had, the parties her parents threw, hell- he had even joined them at the very lake house they were at now. It was indeed Harry’s lake house that he had offered up for them to use for their annual summer vacation, her father gratefully taking the opportunity. He was just blind to the reason why.

Fucking your father’s best friend was probably one of the worst things you could do, but when they looked like Harry? She doubted many people could blame her. She’d always been into older men and seeing one as successful and charming as the man to her left, it wasn’t hard to give into the temptation. There was guilt there, of course. There was always the knowledge that this wasn’t exactly right and it would hurt feelings. But she wanted to be selfish for once.

The first time they’d said it was one and done. Get it out of their system. The second time they’d called it a mistake. The third they’d blamed alcohol and a wedding. By the forth they’d stopped making excuses. Now she knew the man’s tattoos, knew the spot on his neck he liked to be kissed, she knew his favorite position to fuck her in and that he had the most talented tongue she had ever experienced. She was becoming an expert in all things Harry right under the nose of her parents, who saw him as their great friend.

Her fingers ran over his thigh as he spoke, calm as ever while he sipped his bourbon. He didn’t spare her a glance as they trailed to the inner thigh, her other hand bringing the wine glass to her mouth and her tongue being greeted by the tart bite of the notes in the blend. Harry had gotten this with her in mind, she was positive. Not too sweet.

They were talking about something she, quite frankly, didn’t give a fuck about. They were in two different businesses but somehow found some way to talk about stocks or something like that. Y/N didn’t particularly care as long as Harry kept giving her cute little gifts like the diamond tennis bracelet he’d brought her when they first arrived and he snuck her into his bedroom.

They weren’t alone on this vacation- their little friend group of a few men and their wives and grown kids were at the table too, but her focus was on Harry. His rolled up sleeves and hair freshly cut, cropped close tot he sides and growing a bit longer at the top. A perfect amount to run her fingers through.

She knew she was getting into trouble when her fingers brushed his semi hard prick laying under his trousers, a smirk kicking up the side of her mouth. He gripped his glass a bit tighter, eyes cutting to the side discreetly to give her a look. Y/N didn’t move her hand, instead running her fingertips over the bulge and pretending to be engaged in the conversation.

Of course she was going to pay for this. But the rush made her even more wet. Doing this in front of people, being bratty because she wanted his dick inside of her two fucking hours ago and this dinner was dragging on, she was aiming for him to give in. Her ass would be sore tomorrow but she would love each stinging slap and yank of her hair.

“Cut it out.” He mumbled, hiding his lips with the glass. The words were quiet enough, just for them. The conversation continued around them and no one was the wiser, oblivious to the hand palming over the older man’s cock under the tablecloth.

“Make me, Daddy.” Her soft whisper purred, eyes glittering with mischief. She’d signed her own punishment papers there, watching his own gaze darken before shooting back the rest of the drink that was meant to be sipped and savored. Giddiness shot ip her spine as he ripped her hand off, stretching slightly in his chair before saying he needed to call it a night. There was the unspoken promise that laid under his words, the secret message in his tone that meant for her to follow.

It didn’t take her long to scurry up the stairs and find the master bedroom, slipping inside the dimly lit room- only to be grabbed roughly from behind, a gasp leaving her lips as she was pressed against the door. The click of the lock was quiet, his labored breathing against her ear making her grin widely as his cock pressed into her ass. “You just had to be a fucking brat, didn’t you?” He growled, wrapping her hair around his fist and tugging back so she arched into him. “Gagging for it that much, touching me right in front of your family?” Lips ghosted her neck, making her shudder as the sting in her scalp made her whimper. This was exactly what she wanted, what she deserved. “Dirty whore. Fucking cockslut.”

The degrading words were spit in a way that would make the normal girl want to tear up, but Y/N knew she was exactly what he described. She was a cockslut just for him. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?” The slightly delirious giggle left her as if she wasn’t about to be fucked brainless, but she loved every fucking second of this. Harry didn’t treat her like a little girl. He treated her like a woman, gave her the things she needed. He fucked like a real man should, something she knew no one else could replicate for her. “Are you going to fuck me with them just a few doors down? Don’t think you’re going to make me scream loud enough to get caught…” her mouth dropped as she felt his teeth graze her throat, wishing he could bite down. Not here, not when she had to wear her summer dresses and tank tops.

“No. I’m going to shut you up.” Y/N didn’t have a chance to react before fingers were shoved into her mouth. The two long digits hooking over her teeth, prying her mouth open as she whined, feeling him grind his thickening cock over her ass. She had wanted this so badly, the neediness of her weepy pussy only reacting to him. Her own fingers never did it justice. He’d ruined her in ways she hadn’t expected to ever be ruined, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. “You aren’t going to make a fucking sound unless you want your father to know how disgusting you are. Like to call me Daddy with my cock pounding your perfect little holes.” He hissed, breath washing over her ear as he pressed her further into the door. “So you’re going to shut the fuck up and lift that pathetic excuse of a dress up so I can slip into the sloppy cunt and make sure you keep your hands to yourself tomorrow.”

[madefrom-stardust]

i got sweet taste for men who are older

[lunajay33]

Taste for Older Men

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

•Masterlist•

Song Recommendation: White Mustang-Lana Del Rey

Growing up I never understood all my friends having crushes on guys in our class, I mean they were so immature and not even cute so I never had a reason to try things out and explore like so many people my age, because I knew what I liked……and that is older men, I never realized until my dads best friend moved to town and started coming over more and more, I never acted on it because obviously it’s inappropriate but god did I want to

I graduated school and went to college online so I could work on my dads farm to help out and save up some money, it just made everything easier, then I graduate college and Negan lost his farm hand so dad got me to help him out and get my sister to work on our family farm instead

I’ve only been working with Negan for a month and it’s been killing me, every glance, everytime he’d wrap his arms around me to show me the “proper” way to do something, had me wanting more than just a farm hand, I want to feel loved, I tried to get over Negan with a guy from town, he was sweet when we first started dating, the flowers before dates and opening doors and the good mornings texts but in all honesty it always felt like he was just a friend a really close guy friend but I guess this I how it’s suppose to feel right?

But now he’s mean, always calls drunk and when we’re out at gatherings he treats me like a toy to parade around but I don’t know how to leave him and god do I want to so badly

That leads to today Negan was coming over to our house for a barbecue so it’s a perfect chance to doll myself up compared to farming clothes, I finished off my makeup and pulled on a a ivory sundress, I made my way downstairs seeing my mom finishing off some salads as dad was out setting up everything

“Well don’t you look like a fresh flower in spring! Are you all dolled up for Mark?” My heart dropped

“What……what do you mean I’m staying here for supper!”

“Well dad said he ran into Mark today at the garage and invited him over, Negans never met him so why not introduce them it’ll be fun!” I tried to keep a chipper expression but I felt like screaming inside, the door bell rang alerting someone was here

“Could you get that dear I’m still finishing up here”

I walked over to the door relieved to see Negan standing there instead of Mark, I let out a breathe he obviously noticed

“You alright darling?”

“What? Oh yeah I’m finally just…..never mind please come in” I said nervously stepping to the side to clear the door way

“Old man said you’re boyfriends coming around tonight” he said with a hint of displease

“Does that man talk to everyone god” I groan

“What don’t want me meeting the guy who’s got my girl all worried” my heart did a flip at the words ‘my girl’ but I couldn’t think on it too long when a knock came from the door and my mood plummeted

With a shaky hand I open the door and there stood my walking nightmare that fake smile plastered on his smug face

“Hey babe thanks for the invite, had to hear from you old man” he says as he pulled me close by my hip a hint of anger in his voice

“I’m sorry it……it just slipped my mind” my voice wavered as he squeezed my hip, Negan cleared his throat

“Oh mark this is Negan, Negan this is Mark”

“So this is the Negan that always takes up all your time on that damn farm”

“Mark you know it’s my job and I love working there…….please you just got here” I whisper the last part, looking at Negan who had a shocked look on his face, definitely not expecting this to be my boyfriend

We all were sitting out on the back porch with the lowering sun basking us in golden light, a slight breeze in the air making a chill running down my spine, as dad laid the food on the table for everyone

“Here take my plaid you gotta be freezing” Negan said draping his brown and green longsleeve plaid over my shoulders, his cologne surrounding my senses

“I’m right here man” Mark barked from my other side

“Mark he was just being nice it’s fine”

“That’s what you always say”

“And what’s that suppose to mean?”

“Always going on and on about him and brushing me off like I’m some psycho boyfriend when I’m sick of hearing about him”

“Mark……” my dad groans as a warning

Everything seemed to come crashing down and I couldn’t keep it all in anymore

“You’re the one that comes home late stinking of booze and cheap perfume thinking I don’t see the lipstick stains on your shirt collar, or when you make me feel like a piece of meat infront of all you friends I’m sick of it Mark” at my words he shot up in his chair clearly enraged as he towered over me

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to” the chair behind me screeched back Negan now towering over me too with the angriest look I’ve never seen before

“Get the hell outta here before you regret it” mark was angry but he was also a hell of a coward, especially faced with a big strong man like Negan

He huffed as he stomped down the porch, hearing his truck start up and rush off down the dirt road, I slumped down in my chair completely embarrassed but also that relief that I’ll never have to deal with that ass again

“Please excuse me” I sigh as I get up from the table and head up to my room for a moment of peace, I sat down on my reading ledge by my window going through all the times he mistreated me and how much he ruined my first…..well my first everything

“Hey darlin mind if I sit with ya?” Negan asks from my doorway, I simply nodded hearing him cross my room and sit next to me, I look up at him and feel my lip tremble

“He ruined everything” I finally break down when he holds me close to his chest

“He took my first kiss, felt like nothing, took my virginity even though I didn’t feel anything like that for him, he took my happiness”

“Baby look at me” he says as he leans me back tilting my head up to wipe my tears away

“If I could I’d take all your pain away, replace all those firsts with happy memories but I know one thing……”

“What?”

“You’ll be happy again, even if I gotta kill him to see you smile again I’ll do it because it kills me to see you like this”

“It’s not like I’m sad he’s gone, I’m relieved really but he’s never what I wanted” I say placing my hand ontop of his that was still against my cheek

“And what is it you want darlin?”

“I’ve always wanted you, I know I shouldn’t you’re my dads best friend but all my secrets are coming out today” I pity laugh

“I want you too, when you started working on my farm, you working around the farm and treating my animals like your own, making me feel like I wasn’t some old man out there alone, I want you by my side more than you know”

My world in one day went from hell back to heaven all because of the man I craved the most in this world

Part 2

[polakina]

Nonnie from that Javier request here again 👁️

Javier has been rotting my brain for days now but an addition to this is Charles.

We know from that bar fight mission in Valentine that Javier and Charles have different tastes in women but what if they somehow land their eyes on the same lady? Who just happen to be someone the gang newly recruited.

Javier who makes the funniest jokes with flirtatious undertones and keeps the drinks and songs going(definitely the more fun of the two), but also Charles who's more touch than talk and ALWAYS has his hand on her lower back (I'm frothing at the mouth for this).

nonnie i love u, never stop sending these requests

i took this on a slightly different route than what i was expecting to write, but i hope you still like it :)

rating: mature

hard to ignore

It had been a few months since you had joined the gang. Time had flown by, with the heists, the jobs, the hunting. Everything. But you’d gotten to know the people quite well.

Arthur was quiet, but he was sweet. Hosea was one of the loveliest men you’d ever met, which also made him one of the most dangerous when it came to his scams. John and Abigail argued so much that it became white noise to you at night. Micah was an ass. That’s all you had to say about that man. 

Javier was…an interesting personality. He was kind to you. He played guitar well. He always managed to catch your eye across the fire at night in camp. You always smiled, meeting his gaze.

“Morning, querida,” he’d always say in the mornings. “Looking beautiful as ever.” His accent always did something to you. The purr in his tone, the gravel in his voice, especially in the morning. He was a smooth talker, and he knew it. From your perspective, this was how he acted with all women. How you thought he approached every lady who came his way.

But when night fell, he turned into a different person. He was a confident man. In the way he walked, he talked. How he moved through the camp, interacting with everyone on his way to the campfire. How he presented himself, bringing life to the party. Camp always seemed more lively, more fun when he brought himself into the centre of it.

Drinks were flowing just as the sun dipped behind the hill. The guitar was pulled out and its strings were plucked in a melodious tune that got everyone dancing.

It was almost as though he was singing for you. To you. His eyes never left yours when he sang those songs. Those songs that made everyone sway in couples, in a harmonious dance. God, he was good at it. Good at making you feel seen. His entire focus was just on you.

“Enjoying your night, conejita?” He smiled as he made his way over to you, two bottles of liquor in hand, passing one over to you.

“Don’t call me that,” you rolled your eyes, the corners of your lips upturned. He called you bunny. A playful little endearment you’d noticed in your first week of being here. You only realised what it meant when you were strolling through the south end of Saint Denis; an older gentleman called his wife the same thing and you’d asked him what it meant. “Bunny,” he’d said. “My wife, she’s like a cute little bunny. So the name stuck.”

Javier smiled brightly at you. “But it suits you so perfectly, conejita.”

You rolled your eyes again, unable to hide your smile at this point. He was always so upfront with you, never left anything to the unknown. If he didn’t like you, it’d be blatantly obvious. But if he liked you, the entire camp knew. There’d be signs. Not even subtle ones. With you, he found an excuse to come and talk to you, even if you were doing menial tasks like laundry. He’d keep you company, sometimes help out with whatever you were doing. Javier liked to compliment you a lot. Like, a lot. 

Compliment you in ways that made you hide your blush sometimes. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in this light, conejita?” “Don’t look at me with those eyes, they’re too pretty to look away from.” The man had a way with words, and you never knew how to respond.

Charles was quiet when you had first joined the camp. Kept to himself mostly, just like Arthur did. But there was something about him that drew you to his nonchalant personality. His large build, strong hands, deadset glare. He was handsome. So goddamn handsome. Never a part of the group, not really even during parties or meals. 

He stayed by himself in the first few weeks of your introduction. He always kept a wary eye out in the camp, and you’d caught his eyes lingering on yours a few times, but often times you thought it was your imagination. He’d not spoken to you for a long while in camp until you were the one to approach him.

But now, months down the line, you knew it wasn’t your imagination. He looked right at you now, not staring in a strange way that made your skin crawl, but observing you. Fascinated by you.

Charles didn’t speak much. He didn’t have to. It was his touches and how he handled himself around you that told you everything you needed to know about the man.

No matter how many times you assured him you could dismount your horse, or scale a wall, he was there. To help you. Always offering a hand, or stabilising you on unsteady rocks. The two of you often paired yourselves together on jobs, since you worked well together as a team. 

Around camp, he’d become a lot closer with you. His hand finding your lower back when he was behind you, so you knew he was there as he reached around to grab another bottle of liquor. His hand outstretched to help you up after you were sitting on the floor by the campfire for too long, your legs aching from the weight of your body resting on your ass.

But his favourite thing was when the wind blew a little too hard, and he had the excuse to brush your hair out from in front of your face. He stood taller than you, a lot taller. His build was wider than yours, more muscles in his arms and chest. The muscles in his back contorting and stretching when he mounted his horse. You looked. Of course, you looked. It was hard not to.

Javier and Charles had different ways of getting your attention. Javier was more talkative, complimenting to you, a lot more confident with his words. Charles, however, took his time with things. He liked to watch from afar, casting small smiles your way whenever you looked over. He communicated with his touch, his hands, his light hold. But Javier communicated with his words. You couldn’t tell which one you preferred more. 

Both of these men knew that they equally vied for your attention. They saw it everyday. They didn’t mind. They didn’t see it as a game to compete for you. They liked how flustered you would get from each others advances.

So maybe…you wouldn’t have to choose between them. Since they seemed perfectly happy working together to get your attention. Maybe, just maybe, you could be selfish and have both.

[roseboysstuff]

loser perverted older brother leon who literally cannot pull women and has never gotten laid. one day he catches his sweet step brother masturbating and is like “fuck it we ballin” and looses his virginity to his baby step brother :(( (i’ve had stepbrother leon brainrot for weeks omg.)

Ooooo now I do have a kinda incel kink so he's gonna be a super loser

Leon was so frustrated. He was good looking enough, and he had a great personality. Right? So why was he, at the age of 24, still a damn virgin. No woman wanted to sleep with him, really? He was outraged, and slammed the door as he walked in from another failed hookup attempt. He didn't even want a good fuck, but even going to a bar hadn't resulted in anything. He stormed through the house, ready to go and jerk off to release the tension, when he walked past your room. The door was slightly ajar, and he heard a soft moan from inside. Curiousity got the better of him, and he peeked inside. The sight that he saw, was attractive to say the least. He had never really been interested in many men, sure he'd had a few crushes on some boys, but nothing too serious. But seeing his stepbrother, laying down, fingers desperately rubbing at his clit, got him harder than he had ever been. He almost felt guilt at watching, but he was so pent up that he couldn't bring himself to care. And when you arched your back, clearly close to cumming, he couldn't take it anymore. He pushed open the door and pinned you to your bed, despite your flustered expression and protests. "Let me fuck you, please. I need a tight hole to fuck into you, please baby bro. You'll let me fuck you right?" He doesn't even wait for your answer, before spreading your legs himself and pushing into you. Your tight pussy opening for him felt so good, and being the virgin that he was, he came straight away. Only getting one thrust in before he was filling you up with his cum. He was embarrassed but, he made it up to you, by holding your legs open and eating you out, tasting his own cum as it leaked out of you, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, trying desperately to make you cum. He's a loser, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to make you cum, even for his own ego.

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

The SIL

---

It had been a long time since you'd seen your older brother and his much younger wife. They had moved to some nice house in the suburbs after they got married while you stayed behind in a crappy apartment.

She had always been way too good for him. Born a jackass, his only requirements for a wife was someone hot, and someone who did everything for him.

Not only was she the perfect little domesticated housewife, but she was a stunner. Brilliant smile, lustful hazel eyes, long auburn hair... and a huge fucking rack. The first time you met her, you were positive they had to be implants, but after having watched how much they bounced and jiggled when she walked, you realized she had just been blessed by the gods.

Your brother was super fucking lucky.

So once you'd heard he had walked out on her just as she'd delivered twins, you knew it was the right thing to do to check up on her and her babies.

Your brother was an ass for getting her pregnant and then leaving. The least you could to do help put was bring some food over, maybe help out a bit and let Anna know not all men were garbage.

So, casserole in hand, you rang the doorbell.

You heard footsteps at the door, then the sound of someone moving the eye hole to peer through.

"Jack?!"

She opened the door, looking a little embarrassed, and your jaw nearly fell to the floor.

Pregnancy had been extremely kind to Anna. Her breasts appeared to have nearly doubled in size, stretching out the tiny spaghetti strap tank top to the max. The outline of fat, juicy areolas and hard nipples were tantalizing through the near see-through fabric.

She tugged at the shirt, doing her best to keep herself as covered as possible despite spilling out the front and sides of the tank top. "I'm so sorry, I... I wasn't really expecting anyone..."

"It's okay!" You managed to choke the words out, but ripping your eyes away from her massive tits was more impressive. You held up the casserole. "I brought food for you guys."

"Oh my goodness, you're so sweet!" She nearly looked ready to cry. She took you by the hand and led you into the house. "Come on in."

Each step made her nipples bounce and sway despite her top being so tight against her breasts.

She must have been so full of milk...

"So uh... twins, huh? How's that been?" You swallowed hard, sneaking another look at her giant mammaries. Your dick twitched at you noticed small damp spots form at her nipples. "They must be hungry kids..."

"Quadruplets, actually." She put a hand to her breast, checking for milk as more started leaking through her shirt. "And honestly, not hungry enough. I just put them down for a nap after a huge feed, but I... I'm still so engorged... "

Four.

Four kids, this woman was feeding, and she was still leaking from being too full! Your mouth went dry; what you wouldn't give to be able to suck each of those things dry as you fucked her...

You watched as she pulled out her breast pump and pushed a button on it. "Crap... battery still hasn't finished charging..."

She blushed as the damp spots on her shirt started to drip onto the floor. "O-Oh..."

One little squeeze.

That's all it would take. One little squeeze of her swollen breasts, and her milk would have sprayed all over your face and tasted so good...

"I started selling my milk online," she continued. "I had to. Nowhere to store it when you make so fucking much every day..."

"H-How much?"

"Well, after my babies eat, the excess is about..." She trailed off, looking embarrassed. Wincing, she felt her other breast, causing a little to squirt through her shirt. Helplessly, she looked up at you. "About a gallon per breast."

You could have melted.

This woman was a fertility goddess, able to feed four babies, and God only knew how many else with her excess. But she was your sister in law; it would have been totally wrong to do the things you wanted with her.

And there were so many things you wanted... She might have only given birth a short while ago, but she exuded hormones that you knew begged for you to get her pregnant again.

She was in absolute heat, and your body couldn't stop picking up on it.

And if you did try anything... How many times would she let you thrust and put your seed in her as her breasts bounced back and forth? Would her tits get so full of milk it would immobilize her?

With how big they had swollen to in this pregnancy, she wasn't all that far off.

"A gallon, huh?"

She nodded, her breasts jiggling along with her. "And they're just so heavy all the time..." She turned her back to you and backed up. Even from behind, their large masses poked out the sides of her silhouette. "Lift them up for me?"

Your dick throbbed. She was asking you to touch her tits... No. Her voice was a whine, and she was practically begging you to touch them.

You obliged, and hoisted her heavy breasts into your hands. Immediately, she let out a sigh of relief; they felt incredibly heavy as you lifted them up and down, milk sloshing within the confines of her tight skin. Your thumbs rubbed the sides of her flesh, feeling out her glands until your hands were damped by her warm milk. It had streamed down from her teats, which looked even more prominent than before as you looked over her shoulder. Throbbing blue veins darkened her otherwise porcelain flesh.

She must have been super fucking full, ready to burst...

Before you knew what was happening, she spun around and pushed your shoulders downward, forcing you to your knees. The shirt that had already barely fit her to begin with looked like she had grown out of it before your eyes as her milk stretched her engorged tits. She struggled to lift it up and over her breasts, but she managed.

It left you face to face with massive dripping mammaries as you salivated and soaked your boxers with precum.

Biting her lip, she looked down at you in desperation. She leaned forward just enough so her nipple was a mere bredth away from your bottom lip. "Please...?"

You kissed it gently, causing her to let out a soft moan and a spurt of milk. Before you could continue teasing her, she shoved her teat into your mouth.

Immediately, your mouth filled with the sweet milk, and some dribbled down your chin. Rubbing your tongue against her swollen nipple made her cry out again, releasing more sweetness for you to feast upon. And feast you did; sucking, slurping, swallowing, her supply never seemed to end.

You switched breasts, releasing her fat teat with a resounding pop before latching onto the next. You slid your arm between her legs to get a decent balance, and that was when you noticed how wet Anna had gotten.

She rubbed herself against your arm, letting out soft moans. Not only did she need to be milked, but this woman was fucking horny! It only made your cock feel harder, and much more difficult to ignore.

Her body wanted more babies to feed, and by God, you were going to keep fucking her until she had at least twenty.

How the hell did your brother give that up?

---

🐮❤️

[emilyispinkk]

“I got sweet taste for men who are older.”⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[dilemmaontwolegs]

We’ve Got Tonight || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader Summary: When you catch your boyfriend cheating you get your sweet revenge and a handsome stranger who steps in to protect you. Warnings: being cheated on, angst, injury

Songs: Shania Twain - Man! I feel like a woman Garth Brooks - Friends in low places Carrie Underwood - Before he cheats Kenny Rogers & Sheena Easton - We’ve got tonight

Lando couldn’t believe he had let Daniel drag him out to the Texan bar. It was completely polar opposite to anything he was used to, but Danny fit right in with his Stetson hat and cowboy boots. 

Lando winced into his glass as the latest woman to take the corner stage butchered a Shania Twain song but it didn’t seem to bother his drinking buddy as he left to join the rows of people line dancing. Lando was grateful when the song came to an end but it was short lived as he heard a familiar Australian accent on the mic talking the band into playing Friends in Low Places. Spinning around on his stool at the bar, the McLaren driver found his old teammate on the small stage grinning like a fool as the music started. 

Lando watched the older driver and envied the confidence he had to sing terribly to a bar full of strangers. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t hold a note or match the key - Daniel had presence and was always entertaining. The song was almost over when a change of light caught Lando’s eye and he swivelled back to see the saloon doors swing shut behind you. 

Lando nearly fell off his chair. The sight of your smile was dazzling and he swore the colours in the room were brighter because of it. He hardly remembered to breathe as you cast your eyes around the bar, searching for something he suddenly hoped he had. Disappointment landed heavy on his chest as your pretty eyes settled on the pool tables and he wondered which one of the handsome men was lucky enough to have you. 

He started to turn away and wash the bitter taste of jealousy from his mouth with his drink when he saw the smile dim. It was like a cloud had come and blocked the sun, shadows curving your lips down until they pressed to a hard line and your eyes narrowed on a man. Lando swallowed at the change thinking you was even more beautiful, like lightning in a thunderstorm. Beautiful, dangerous, deadly.

Then you were gone, the tassels on your boots swaying quickly as you disappeared out the door as quickly as you came. 

“Whatcha looking for?” Daniel asked as he dropped back into his seat. Lando hadn’t even noticed the song had ended while he watched the empty space in the doorway, another singer taking the stage. 

“N-nothing,” he stammered quickly as he turned back to the bar and raised his glass to his dry lips. 

“Whatever you say, mate,” Daniel chuckled as he clapped Lando on the back. “She was hot though, right?” 

Lando coughed and sputtered on his drink as Daniel laughed knowingly. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but I’m not blind. And since you’re single, you should get off your ass and lasso yourself a lady friend. You know what they say: save a horse, ride a cowgir-” Lando clamped a hand over Daniel’s mouth as his cheeks turned pink. 

“You can’t say that, dude! You are totally going to get cancelled one day.”

Daniel shrugged and sent him a lopsided grin as he looked over Lando’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s  your lucky day.”

—

White hot rage left your hands shaking as you dropped the baseball bat and walked away, the metal clanking loudly on the asphalt of the parking lot. You didn’t even notice the trickle of blood running down your fingertips from cutting your palm with Damon’s hunting knife when you slashed the tyres of his Ford Raptor. You couldn’t feel anything except the burning need for revenge.

All the joy you had felt on the drive to the bar had been forgotten. The phone call with the news seemed like a lifetime ago and you hated him all the more for ruining what should have been the best day of your life so far.

After years of hard work you were finally catching a break and had been signed to Big Loud and would soon be recording your own country music. You had been so excited you had left work early and driven across town to surprise Damon. What a surprise he would get.

You looked ahead at the bar you had left, still seeing the way he curled himself around her, the pretense of pretending to teach her how to play pool - the same trick he had used to get close to you the night you met. Rotten bastard. It made you question the last two years together and how many other women he pulled the same moves on. You were going to teach him a lesson, and maybe save her from the same fate.

You swaggered into the bar and felt eyes on you, but the only pair that didn’t turn were his. Damon was too enraptured by the woman dancing against him, a dainty cocktail spilling over her glass. 

“Mind if I butt in next, Jimmy?” you asked the old man who loved to sing a bit of Kenny Rogers after a few drafts of beer. 

“Not at all, pumpkin, been a while since you joined us.” The song was just finishing and Jimmy jutted his chin at Damon as he poured two shots of whiskey, offering one to you. “Say, ain’t that your old man?”

“Not any more.” You downed the shot and inhaled the burn before taking the stage and telling the band what to play. 

—

Lando stepped off his stool as the song started and his feet carried him closer to the stage with Daniel right at his side, not that he noticed. You hadn’t even parted your lips but he knew, somehow he just knew, you would sound perfect. The song was one he recognised, maybe from a movie or just on the radio, but it hit differently when he saw your eyes boring holes into the couple still dancing together by the pool tables. 

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky. Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whiskey. Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know…

Lando couldn’t breathe as he watched the realisation dawn on the stranger who looked up from the blonde woman he had been grinding on. The man’s jaw went slack and he half shoved the woman from his lap as he straightened up, a small shake of his head when he met the eyes on the stage. He could almost hear the whispered ‘oh no’ fall from his lips and he felt a smug satisfaction on your behalf. 

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats.

Your smile was dark and you watched Damon blanch at the sight, only making you feel even better for what you had done.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, 'cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know it won't be on me. No, not on me.

“No, no, baby, no,” Damon whined as he tugged the short strands of his hair and rushed out of the bar, leaving his date in a state of confusion until her brain caught up and her hands shot to cover her mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, he played us both, honey,” you said as you shoved the mic back in the stand and crossed your arms as the doors burst open.

“You crazy bitch!” Damon tried to rush the stage only to find himself shoved back by a handsome stranger who was apparently a lot stronger than he looked. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

“Not gonna happen, mate,” he said with a chuckle, his British accent sweet on the ears. “I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?”

“She ruined my fucking truck! Do you know how much that cost?”

You scoffed and stepped up behind the stranger, feeling bolder as you saw his arms flex ready to protect you. “Too much, but I guess you had to overcompensate for something small,” you said as your eyes darted to his trousers and the taller companion barely contained his laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Lando. She’s got fire.”

“Just give me my house key and leave, it’s over.” You held out your palm waiting until he fisted his keys from his pocket and cursed your name as he pulled it off the keyring. 

“Where the fuck am I meant to live?”

You looked over at the woman and asked, “Do you want to take him home, honey?” She shook her head now that she knew he was a no good cheater and your smile widened as you turned back to Damon. “You’ll be nice and cozy in your pickup.”

He stepped forward but Lando’s friend joined him shoulder to shoulder and Damon quickly realised he was not going to win whatever went down. With his tail between his legs, he turned and grumbled his way out the door before the band started up and Jimmy kicked off with We’ve Got Tonight. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you said as the two strangers finally deemed it safe to turn their backs on the door and face you. A pair of stormy blue eyes met yours and you blinked twice before you managed to look away, scanning a quick glance over the messy styled curls on his head to the slim black t-shirt that fitted perfectly. Your lips dried as you realised you were staring and he cleared his throat when he caught himself doing the same. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You bit your lip at the offer and tipped your head to the side. “I think I should be the one buying you a drink, your friend too. It’s the least I can do.”

“Daniel,” the taller man said with a grin and held his hand out to shake.

“Y/N.”

“Enchanté.”

“Uh, bless you.”

Lando laughed and the sound brought a smile to your face. “I know how you can thank me,” he said as he nodded to Jimmy who was grabbing a second microphone and pointing it your way. “I’m fairly sure this song is a duet. Know it?”

You smirked as you stepped back and gave him a wink before taking the stage, his eyes never leaving yours and you sang just for him.

We've got tonight, Who needs tomorrow? Let's make it last, Let's find a way Turn out the light, Come take my hand now We've got tonight, babe, Why don't we stay?

His nod was almost imperceptible and you weren’t sure if you imagined it as you let the question hang in the air while the music faded out. In two long, self-certain steps, he closed the distance and offered his hand to help you down the steps and you grinned at the warmth of his palm as he laced your fingers with his.

Suddenly he froze and looked down, concern etching his features as he pulled his hand back and found it stained red. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”

You blinked at the cut on your palm, only noticing the ache after your attention was drawn to it. “Huh, guess that’s what I get for slashing his tyres,” you murmured with a weak laugh.

“He deserved more than that,” Lando growled as he led you to the bar and asked for a first aid kit. “But he definitely didn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t know me, I could be a terrible person.” You winced as he cleaned the cut before pressing a bandage to stem the bleeding.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character, Y/N.” He pinned the bandage into place before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing the top softly. “I knew it from your smile when you arrived, and everything after just proves you’re strong.”

Your chin dipped as you felt your face flush and you couldn’t remember the last time someone was so sweet. “You really know how to make a girl feel special. So how long are you in town for?”

His lips turned down slightly as he sighed and reluctantly admitted. “We fly back to London tomorrow.”

You felt the same disappointment but chased it away and squeezed his hand that still held yours, your eyes meeting with the same idea flitting past. “We’ve got tonight?”

His smile returned and grew until his eyes wrinkled with how wide it was, brightening up his whole face and sparking yours to match. “Yeah, we’ve got tonight.”

[liaprinces]

◟ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤ ݁.﹒ "my p*ssy taste like pepsi cola my eyes are wide like cherry pies, i got sweet taste for men who are older it's always been so, no surprise." . 🍒 。 . ⋆♱ ˖ . <3 ~ Lana Del Rey

[thedanniannie]

🖤Uchiha Men dating goth baddies pt.2🖤

Descriptions lean femme

Nsfw mentions

Uchihas mentioned: Madara, Obito, Shisui, Itachi

Madara:

- I know I said in my last post he maybe wouldn't deliberately simp for goth babes like some of these other Uchihas on my list, but if anyone was going to be the token metal head boyfriend to their goth babe, it's gonna be him.

- like common, he's not gonna have a mane like that and NOT fit the metal head vibe okay?? LIKE LET'S GET INTO THIS FANTASY!!

- And this man has NO crafty skills.... so imagine helping him with sewing patches on his battle jackets UUUUUGGGGHHJDJJDJSJXJCHD

- He's the guy to have gone to a couple of shows with Hashi when they were young, and he just stopped going as he got older. But he would absolutely cave if you batted your eyelashes and asked him to take you to one. Also, he's protective as fucking fuck.

- And at a show, if he finds you slowly inching your way to the pit, he will snake his arm around your torso to pull you back and just give you the most firm look that's like "you're not going in there missy"

Obito:

- He'd wear the ghost face mask.... I feel like we already knew this information. Like, he'd be on goth tiktok and already KNOW that the goth girls fall hard for a man in a mask and would just happen to have the mask from a past Halloween costume and just make note to NEVER throw it out lol

- Although he can be freaky with the mask, he will also be unbearably sweet. The second he learns about boyfriends making "boo baskets" for their spooky partners, he gets to cooking on it.

- I actually think Obi would have a lot of fun finally getting to do all the typical spooky couple shit. Because although I see Obi for sure simping for the goth babes, for some reason he doesn't approach. But with the mix of being a sweetie at heart and the deep trauma he has, he could for sure keep up with his love's date ideas.

- But I think his favorite would be going to scare nights and going through mazes with his partner. Like, ofc he lives staying home and cuddling while watching horror films, but there's something he likes about getting to play the protective bf type during all the scares

- his other favorite thing is having to clean off all the black lipstick stains after a night out. He would beg (and probably has) to get some, especially after you saying you don't want it to "bother him"

Shisui:

- He's gonna regularly send the text that all goths want to hear from their partners: "Hey babe, do you want to get dressed up and get coffee and go Halloween shopping?"

- If you tell him that you had a horrible day at work, he will make sure his queen of darkness is well pampered. A dark themed bath will be drawn, with the favorite Halloween seasonal candle lit. And he will end the night by putting on Coraline for the two of you to relax to. Idk he's just a knowledgeable simp like that.

- As I'm writing Shisui, I feel like I'm making him seem really ran through. And I guess KINDAAA, like I think Shisui would REALLY like the goths. But it's never out of objectification, he just loves how much they embrace the darkness, and look so hot while doing it. But he's an Uchiha, and they're serious about love, so I think "ran through" would like, he's genuinely dated two goths and just had so much love for them that he learned a lot.

- Also I could see Shisui as the kind of guy who is alt at heart, but doesn't look it. He probably never really TRIED to be alt, like outwardly that is, not because he doesn't like it but rather is just happy to listen to the music and know the people. And when you first met him, you thought he was some regular guy and wouldn't know anything about the subcultures. Until he drove you to your guy's first date, and his music taste completely said otherwise

Itachi:

- Idk why but something in me sees him as being intuitively intelligent with any DIY or gothy clothing alterations. Like, he is savvy enough to know the cheapest places to get things, how to make shit happen on a budget. That intelligence could get him places in alternative crafts, but I also see him as someone not driven to be creative. He's just smart, so he can at least offer a helping hand with any craft his goth partner wants to do

- he also likes to genuinely visit historic and haunted locations. Tbh, I don't think Itachi would believe in ghosts. But he's not patronizing to his partner if they do, and will happily tag along to visit haunted places. Mainly because I just see him as a history buff.

- gives you regal hand kisses, but at the randomest of times. Like yeah, maybe some here and there when he greets you or says goodbye, which was more so the case before your relationship got more serious. But now it's tradition, so he's just a little playful with it. A soft kiss on the hand before your "goodnight kiss," periodically when watching horror movies. His playfulness is still so poised lol. He's a vampire that's why lol.

- maybe he'll even nibble on your goth ass neck like he's a vampire BUT IDK YOU DIDN'T HEAR IT FROM MEEEE (😈)

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I think my first Uchiha x goths is probably my most popular post, so I wanted to make more of it. Although this has been sitting in my notes for like a month, oops. But yall loving my first one gave me the motivation to finish this one, for all my fellow goth Uchiha lovers out there!

[milfism-blog]

Bar of Destiny

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem Reader

Summary: You are going through a confusing path of self identity. Will your views on life change when you meet an Italian redhead in the old sports bar? 

Warnings: Inner homophobia, comphet, alcohol consumption, mentions of hetero relationship, little angst, fluff, Smut.

Word count: 6.3k

Author`s note: I hope you'll like it, trust the process. My requests are open for your suggestions\ideas. Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy the story!

On a boring Friday evening, you found yourself in a cheap old bar where men were watching tv and talking shit about their wives. How did you end up there? Well, let's start from the beginning then… 

You heard a lot about the self identity crisis but as far as you knew it was mainly common for men in their late 40s. But you certainly were not a man and not that old. To reconsider your life choices and the most calming and thinking spot you could master became this decrepit bar. Growing up in a conservative household with a single mom and being an older sister certainly gave you a hard time. So you mustered a plan to leave this lifestyle and never get back. But some principles, morals and negative attitudes towards the lgbtq+ community stayed. But again you also knew the saying “The gayest people are the homophobes”. And to be completely honest just one little thought about being or trying something with a woman was scaring you to death. And you came here to show yourself that you are a straight woman who can be in a relationship with a man.

You accepted this challenge from yourself, but if you at least like men a little bit you probably would not call it a challenge. To ease your anxiety, you are sipping your beer carefully while sitting alone close to the bar counter. The bar is supposed to close in 3 hours and you still haven't found a good looking man. To put it mildly, all of them looked strange or not to your taste. So far no more than sharing a gaze with a bartender. He was the most normal? Out of all…?

After a while, you sensed an intense stare. And surely it was not from the bartender he had enough work to keep him busy. You looked around yourself to catch the observer but nothing. But the uneasy feeling of being watched is still present in your mind. Your lateral vision caught some movement on the other side of the bar. You tried your best not to interact or make any eye contact. Again you came there to find a guy or try to. However, even a single conversation or hint is uncomfortable, to put it mildly, now back to the incognito viewer. He revealed himself by sitting beside you. The first thing that got your attention about the mysterious man was his perfume which hit your tender senses. You never were a fan of the men's cologne… It was so strong yet you could detect notes of floral-musky fragrance. That could be sweet notes from the female perfume. The idea provided you with little comfort.

Compared to the others at this establishment, he didn't seem as scary. His hazel eyes were on you, seemingly surveying your evening attire. You did the same scanning his choice of clothes for the lonely Philly bar. Taking a close look at his face, brows turned upwards, eyes bloodshot leaving the expression of sadness perhaps sorrow. Dirty uniform and strong smell of mixed vodka with beer. Which is known for being a hell of a hangover. The red handprint on his right cheek. All this has been telling you that this man has been dumped by a woman, the strong one apparently who does not hold back. 

The man got the courage to start a conversation with you. His words were slurred a bit mixed with a rough Philadelphian accent. His voice is smoked with raspiness. You usually loved raspy voices but if they belonged to women, not to men. Once more your mind still wanders to women. Anyway, returning to the subject in question, the forced conversation, you couldn't call it a conversation, it was more of a monologue, you were answering from politeness. 

“What's a girl like you doin here? Aren't ya scared ya gonna receive unwanted attention with this dress of yours?” He questioned with little teasing in the last sentence while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Already got that.” Rolling your eyes you mumbled so he would not hear the words leveling your lips.

“Don't ya be scared I am a good guy, I`m Gar by the way.” He smiled, giving you his hand for a shake. You were thinking about turning him down but you had a task to accomplish, make sure that you would find a man.

“Nice to meet you.” You forced out.

“It's not that I'm prying but why are you here?'' You made an attempt to shift the topic from you to him. You would rather listen than talk about your business and share it with a random man. 

By asking this question you opened the whole pandora box of problems. The guy has been sharing with you like you were his therapist. However, to be fair, he started talking about his job. Most of the time people don't remember his name, only the fact that he is some “vending machine guy”. Women don't like him. You almost chuckled at that. “Gosh men are so dramatic” - you thought to yourself.  

“Ya are a woman, why don't they like me? I have the body of a young man, I work out regularly, I buy them gifts and all I'm left with is a broken heart.” He complained. Signing sadly.

“If I am a woman that doesn't mean I can answer this question. There might be a lot of factors, maybe you are just not their type. Things happen.” You don't even know why you were answering his rhetorical question. 

“Yeah but, I thought that I had found my woman, for real now, I thought that she was the one. Everything was fine, amazing even. I planned a dream proposal for her. I knew that she was a huge Eagles fan and I was going my way to make a deal with Jalen Hurts himself to play our song. He read my words that I had put on the paper for her. And you know what she did? –” 

There was a long pause. He took a big gulp of vodka. Hissing as the burning liquid traveled down his throat. 

“She said: "No "! Can you imagine, I made all this for nothing, she burned down three years of my life! She is the wrong one. I was perfect. I bought her gifts, her favorite snack from the vending machine, and asked her out to the cafes. One time I even saved MY money up so I could pay for our special cruise. And all this for nothing, for the rejection, best years spent on this bitch!” 

He was whining and complaining like a fifth year old boy who did not get his way on the toy that he wanted to buy. “Gosh respect, come on!” - You thought. You tried so hard not to laugh at his face. He is so miserable as a person by himself. A man in his late 50s calling a bitch a woman who turned him down. “Just learn to accept rejection, hadn't he had half of his life to learn it?”. When your mind was lost in thought your ears peaked at the description of his ex.

“But her beauty, ohhh, her body to die for. The tight fitting outfits were showing off all of her gorgeous body. Her eyes are emerald green, red looks of voluminous hair, make-up was done flawlessly, always put together…” He sighed in the memory of his past lover.

Yes, you kind of liked his description but the sad part was that he cared the most was her looks. He said nothing about her qualities as a human. Is she kind? Outgoing? Extrovert or introvert? Does she like to hang out in bars or is she more like a stay at home person? You were having all these questions even though you never saw her. She might be cool if she pissed him off this hard.

__________________________________________Life works as the most humorous TV show that you can only imagine. Garry the man you met at a bar a couple of months ago. Now you were dating? Or so you called it.  More like friends with benefits or relationships without any responsibilities. Well to briefly describe your dynamics as a couple. He was working, you were working, nothing cool was happening. To be fair he tried to organize some dates but they were horrible. You two would always end up at the oldest, rastest bar in the whole town. Just so he can “legally” watch football during your date. If you are completely honest you did not mind, every time he was occupied it felt like a breath of fresh air. Some free time? You were not only “dating” but also sharing a flat. First it was chipper for you to save some money and secondly he was never there. 

Why were you with him in the first place? Experiment..? Or this one of many excuses. Nonetheless, you set boundaries with him. He was too lazy to work on gaining your trust or any sort of effort in these so-called relationships. But the lack of effort simply led him to spend time with his dudes watching football and all that boring men stuff. It didn't matter if he was occupied with work or if he was having fun with women, you simply couldn't care less. 

The main point was that you chose him, and you were living with him so that equals you are attracted to him. If you are finding him attractive that matters that you are attracted to men…? Right?

Despite this miserably boring lifestyle you got yourself into. You went to the bar again. If he can “cheat” or have fun with other women. Maybe you could try to find someone better than him? It was like your tradition at this point to get to that bar to drink beer or something stronger and that usually helped you to forget about your non boyfriend? Or what should you call him? But instead of seeing men there you saw her…

The beautiful stranger was sitting near you at the poorly lit bar. You were curious how she ended up here? Was she sinking her sorrows into the poisoned liquid or was it just a hard week? Did she break up with her boyfriend? Who in their right mind would not treat her right? This time you enjoyed the company of a captivating stranger. Maybe she did not know you liked her calming aura. But she doesn't need this information or she would think you are a creep. She probably has a lot of men beneath her feet. Ready to do anything for her. 

Using your side vision desperately trying not to stare you noticed her brightly red locks. Her hair was like a halo reflecting the red in her hair. Her green eyes were shining with sadness. You started to wonder who had hurt such a beautiful flower. Her delicate fingers firmly held onto the glass with cognac the courage liquid. Index finger playing with the rim of the glass. Debating whether or not she should talk with you.

“Are ya alone here hun?” - Thick Philly accent had brushed over your sensitive ears.

Your gaze was so fixated on her beauty that you missed what she said or asked, you were not sure. It felt like a dream. Like she was not real. You thought you had too many beers to process the situation you are in. Woman simply cannot be this magnifying and most importantly real… In flesh and blood sitting near you.

“You were talking to me?” You answered nervously. Playing with the rings on your fingers. Why were you nervous?

“Yes, we’re the only one’s here.” She gestured around the bar counter. As if it is the most obvious thing in the world. But you did not care if there were people or not, she was the one that took your interest.

Yes, yes you're right sorry.” You suddenly felt so embarrassed in front of this attractive woman. 

“You don't have to be sorry about anything hun. I was wondering why ya would be in a place like this? Why would such a fragile young pretty girl be here?” She asked with curiosity and concern evident in her voice. 

Your mind stopped in its tracks when she called you “fragile”. For some reason you liked it. You were a fight girl. You did not need anyone’s protection. But the word “fragile” tenderly slipped from her lips with care made you want something more. Oh here goes this feeling again — 

“You want an honest answer?” You asked with a chuckle.

“If you’d share” She simply answered, shrugging her shoulders.

“I was gonna look for a man but so far they all are disgusting…” you shared your truth.

This answer made a redhead laugh out loud. The good, sincere happy laugh. When she was giggling her face was hit by the sunlight. Highlighting all of her smile lines and freckles. Her eyes finally lit up with joy. You felt a pleasant warm feeling in your chest. You liked that you could add more smiles to her peach colored lips. 

“I was expecting’ anything but that answer–” her laugh betrayed her.

“Ya are funny, ya know that?” Her eyes sparkled with contentment. And for some reason you wanted to make her smile and giggle more… gosh her laugh sounded like the most melodic sound you ever heard in your life. 

“Well thank you, I guess.'' You were unsure of what to say. It's more like being stuck in wonder. Her beauty was so captivating it was challenging you to stay focused on her words rather than on her looks. 

“I’m gonna buy yа a drink, we need to chat and that’s on me.” She leaned closer to you. Trying to appear dangerous so there will be no room for argument. But it had a completely opposite effect on you could smell her sweet perfume, it was making you more drunk than you actually were. Of course, you said “Yes” to this offer!

That night gave you a new friend and companion during lonely nights. You could always call her and share whatever is bothering your soul. She has a guy for every single problem. The closer you got with Melissa the more tension you got in your household with Gerry. He did not like the idea that you were spending a lot of time with another person. Woman to be specific. He did not know her name or her appearance. But when you brought up all the women he has been with while you were at home he would get defensive trying to find insults. Which you found funny, a grown man doesn't know how to talk with you. He never understands you in the first place.

It didn't matter how open you were with Melissa or how close your friendship was getting. You try to hide that private part of your life. It does not feel right. For some strange reason it felt like betrayal. Initially because she shared with you intimate details of her failed marriage and engagement. You were there with every step of her healing journey. When she was angry, sad, lost, depressed. You started to wonder if all men were like this. Clumsy and ignorant to understand what their woman really wants. Maybe dating a woman is better? 

You felt obligated to share with her but the guilt was too much to be fully sincere. Especially with every passing month, it was enough time for you to gain her trust but you were terrified to admit it out loud that you were taken and saying this to her.. would be the point of no return. So your answer to her curiosity was that your life is boring and you simply don't have a partner. Even if she questioned your honesty with her, it was none of her business. First and foremost she was a friend and not a police officer to question you.

But this particular evening in the Italian's house you felt at peace. You loved to be with her. You felt so content. You have everything you'll need, even wine. She was so sweet to share some clothes with you. To be honest you didn’t bring some of Melissa`s items right back to her until her perfume would vanish away. That’s how much you loved her scent? Her—?

If you believed in God you would have thought that the guy was tempting you today. Melissa wore a short pink pj… That was a strong start to the evening. You could not focus on a single thing. Your mind and body were on fire. Your brain was working one hundred miles per hour. It was too much. But she was acting as if nothing was going on. Of course, all this was in your head. She simply was clueless about the effect this item of clothes was having on you. If you were more engaged in gay culture you would know that what you had at that specific moment called “A gay panic…”.

Your eyes started shamelessly to roam her body in the tight pink pajamas. You could not control it. She looked so delicious. The garment showed more creamy skin than you are used to. Of a year of your friendship you TAUGHT YOURSELF NOT TO REACT at all. Be cool about her tight, sometimes revealing outfits. But this – this was way out of line of your control. Your mind was just screaming how incredibly hot she was. If you didn't know better you would assume that she was seducing you. But gosh those hips and tights. Looked so soft it seemed to you that they were begging for your attention. To touch to explore the new flesh that was open for your eyes to see. And your fatal mistake was to move your gaze up to her chest. Now you were trapped, her breasts were one of the most attractive things. First you thought you were just jealous of her size and how confidently open she was with them. But now, it all felt in place, you got it. How full, squishy and tender they really are. To add to this almost see-through top of her pjs. That was a killer. You honestly don't know how men could be so stupid to miss on this real life goddess. The soft skin and nipples peeking out. You thought you were hallucinating, the buds were calling your name “Touch me” the words were echoing in your overstimulated brain. 

Next final thing was her bare face, it was a privilege to see her without a brave mask which included her makeup. She was a little bit insecure about how she looked without it. But all you could think of was kissing her face every part of it, her nose, eyes, temple. To show your adoration not only with words but with actions. Her skin looked absolutely flawless for you. Hell her body was absolutely fire. The other day she was complaining to you that she ate too much pasta and now she has added weight. But goodness gracious all you could see was the healthy curved body of your favorite woman. You loved her butt the second thing after her breasts and face of course. Even though you were absolutely drooling over her body and sexyness. You were better than a man. At least you respected her more and loved listening to her stories. Back to the subject, her kooley as people in Philly say is a work of art. All natural and seizable. You could only dream of putting your hands there and outrageously roam, pinch, caress all sorts of things. To feel it closer to you to get a better feeling. 

Her hair was put down, all that was left of her styling was a slight wave at the ends of auburn hair. She might not like how she looked like this but god you loved to see her like this. Bare face, less clothes (obviously), and natural hair structure. It was giving you an allusion to the ability to fantasize and experience domestic life with her. Where she is just your Mel and not that tough woman you know. She might appear as a lion but in reality under all these layers of makeup, clothes and hair she is just an orange silly little cat. Who is touchy and clingy to attention and hugs. 

“Hun are ya with me??” Her raspy voice was ticketing your ears pleasantly.  

“Huh? Yes yes.” You tried to sound convincing. Miserably failing with nervousness in your voice. You were caught red handed. She knew that you saw.. more like stared at her body. 

You never could fool her. She saw right through you. The sly smirk on her lips was the evidence that you were completely awful at lying. At least to her. 

“I asked if ya are okay?? You’ve been silent for this whole time.” She said either teasing or worrying, probably both. Slightly nudging your shoulder.

“Ohhh , right I was just thinking about my home stuff you know? Domestic life.” You cringed at your bad choice of words. Stupid lie that you made up on the spot. Without even thinking about it though. You rolled your eyes at the last sentence, which was nonsense. 

When she finally got your attention for the hundredth time. You two began watching the movie which was the main plan for the sleepover. Since you were much younger you would show her some new movies or TV shows that you loved. The biggest secret that you didn't know was that all the shows that you showed to her. Became her comfort movies and series. Calming her down after a stressful day at Abbott. Even though you weren't there with her but when she opened the streaming service to dive into the made up universe and characters it felt like you were right there with her, the whole time. It appeared as if the sun was shining on her during a rainy day. You were her sun.

The movie that she picked today was no help. It was a romantic line between characters who were friends but denied feelings for each other. Kind of reminded you of your situation with Melissa. But even if you would be brave enough to admit it to yourself. You couldn't even imagine what she was thinking about you. Were you her friend? Best friend? A distraction or a good company?

Melissa patted her lap as a sign for you to get comfortable between her plushingly seducing thighs to lay of course nothing more .“What a loss” You considered, but once again you were getting closer and closer with every passing hour. When you back touched her front it was challenging for Melissa to hold down a whimper that was willing to escape her mouth. The warmth of her body was too much, sending all kinds of sensations down to your core. Suddenly you are a hot, nervous mess but in the second she looks at you and pecks your temple you are a putty puddle in her hands. You don't care at this point. You wanted her to decide what will come next. You were just too insecure to make a move on a smoking hot redhead. Sure, she was intimidating but also she had her boundaries that you were too scared to overstep. Because you knew that one little childish mistake will lead you to lose the only person you care about in this town. 

The movie was progressing and a lot of things were happening but you were not focused at all. You tried to steal some glances at relaxed cute and real Melissa Schemmenti. It was such a rare sight for your eyes, but again boundaries. You were unaware how much she thought it was adorable. Oh, how you tried to respect her but also like a cutely clumsy school girl looking at her crush. You were admiring her beauty. Memorizing every small detail of her beautiful features. 

For some reason you skipped the moment in the annotation to the film which was describing the possible sex scenes. And that is certainly something that you would not like to watch together. Firstly it is hella awkward. Secondly you would be left with an uncomfortably wet spot in your panties specilly with Melissa by your side. But here you were with the main characters finally confessing their feelings and passionately kissing. “What dumbasses” you thought. To have all these feelings and not share them with the person you find attractive. (That was currently your situation that you were so stubbornly ignoring).

One blink of your eye and the older woman is pressing you down on her coach. Mumbling something under her breath. Her hands were passionately roaming your already overstimulated body. Her long sharp freshly manicured nails draw shapes over the fabric above your hips. These actions elicit a moan from your rosey lips. She fakely paunted at your moan playing innocence herself. Her sly smile and shiny with lust eyes were telling you another story. There was fire behind the emerald forest of greens in her eyes. She was more than ready to overstep, even ruin those stupid boundaries. Redhead was so tired of looking at the lips she could not kiss. It was a pure torture to the unpatient woman. But you were more worked up than she was. Which led you to yank her fiery locks of hair to make her meet your lips finally. You were so tired of this game for being a year long. Your lips were desperate to taste hers. Sloppy movements of tender flesh against each other. Smearing her cherry red lipstick all over your faces. Slightly biting on her sensitive bottom lip pulling it. The curiosity and excitement is rising in your body, making you buzz. 

But Melissa wasn't planning on holding back. She liked the way you tried to take the lead, but she will teach you manners later by edging you. While she was in thoughts the animalistic instincts took over you and the fact that she was sitting on top of you was just adding fuel to the flame. Her breasts are free from her usually tight bra, all free for you to see. Your hands were faster than you thoughts, you ripped the poor flap of her night t-shirt. And her breasts fall right to your face. Too blissed out to care, your palms squashed the desired flesh of her silky breasts. Nails teasing the very sensitive areolas making her chocolaty nipples stand in anticipation. Silently begging for any sort of attention.  

“Yesss… ah– like dis.” she whimpered out. Her eyes are rolling in pleasure.

Her accent is getting thicker with a mix of arousal and desire. Her raspy voice is like a natural aphrodisiac for you, making you more eager to please. Pushing stubborn redhead on shoulder blades, taking her by surprise, making Mel open her mouth and sneaking your tongue into her warm welcoming lips. She tasted so sweet her perfume was intoxicating your senses, making you addicted to a mix of musky and flowery scent. Her whines were getting louder with passing kisses. Suking on her tongue, your strong hands traveling over her tiny waist. Willing to see all of her you asked permission to tore down the seducingly tight pajama shorts she gave you an assuring nod. 

“No, no, I need your words.” Shaking your head in disapproval. Eyes shining with want.

You whispered in her ear, slightly biting the earlobe. Sending shivers all over her neck and making small hairs on her nape to stand up. You absolutely enjoyed the effect your actions and words were having on her body and state in general. Where is the lion everyone was so afraid of? Right now she appears incredibly lustful. Completely lost in the fog of want, desire, sexual longing. 

“Yes, yes please huunnn” She cried out. Bucking her exquisite hips to ease the job for you.

Ripping down the last garment of clothes seemed like a gift. She was your present to unpack and find the most sensitive buttons to tease and push. Carefully rather agonizingly slowly taking off the light pink, cotton shorts slowly revealing the glistening pussy. It was a view to see. Sexually frustrated Schimmenti trying so hard to suppress her frantic cries. But the ruined garment was the shameful evidence of her desire. You were admiring her long legs and lustrous hips. Now on full display only for your eyes to see. Her thighs seemed immensely empty, lacking any potential markings. Getting under your desire you felt like a predator eating its prey. You carefully started to explore the exposed flesh to your eyes, so hungry for more. Leaving slight love marks here and there initially provoking a sweet melody from the object of your admiration. Finally squeeze her deliciously seducing butt. Electrifying a nasty groan. 

Mel had a naughty idea to catch you off guard. Abruptly grabbing your hands makes your gaze meet. Her pupils were delayed, absolutely fogged out. You looked at her questingly, but she had her own plan, the lion was back and now you were the cat. Pressing tightly her body against your sweat mixing. She boldly licked your earlobe, slightly pulling on it. 

“Look who`s gon` all shy right now, let me be the boss.” She made accent on the last word clearly showing you your place. 

Just the slight dominance from her was sending you to another orbit of fantasy and possible pleasure. Her boobs were again in your face but instead of focusing on pleasuring the Italian beauty you felt how she was tearing your clothes off. Slowly, teasingly to make you taste the same treatment you made for her. She could smell your fluids in the air as she got closer. Sultry sweet, sweat, skin, wine. All in one, that's how she likes you and to add the cherry on top, you were completely at her mercy. Looking at your chest rising up and down, your heart is jumping straight out of your rib cage. To ease the beating she left the hickey right above your heart, leaving a purple and pink mark from the smeared lipstick. Your breasts were tantalizing her. Aroused nipples screaming for any sort of relief from the teasing partner. She took the hint and licked the stripe over the right nipple, her hand playing slowly with the left one. You are crying out at the wet sensation. Melissa`s hands continue shamelessly to crumpling your sensitive tits. Licking, sucking, blowing at the wet aroused skin. Making you surrender completely.

The redhead smiles at your relaxed face but now it is time to give you two a sweet well deserved release. She's been fantasizing about it, how you will come, how she will pleasure you, what faces you would make and how you would sound. Would she use her mouth on you or her sharp fingernails? Or maybe you would enjoy a bit of pain and pleasure together?  Would you scream, cry, fight? She often was getting off on these fantasies. Now she was getting desperate and her inner monologue was turning her on even more. (If it was even physically possible).

But the idea of cumming together and feeling each other's bodies was the one for tonight. So full of delight Melissa has stopped her assault on your reddened breasts. She had a look of concern and excitement written on her face.

“Baby are ya willin` to try somethin`out with me? Do you trust me enough?”

She asked in a gentle voice. Mel broke her dominant attire for this minute, she needed you to understand her intentions were nothing but good. 

“Yes fully. I am all yours.” You whined out in a weakened voice.

Your mind was clouded with all sorts of feelings. Love, arousal, overstimulation? Everything at once. But the concern in her voice and love in her gaze was warming your heart. Even if she wanted to destroy you, you would say “yes” in a heartbeat. 

She carefully parted your legs with warm hands of hers sending shivers to your sentave thighs. The sight of your glossy cunt was making her mouth salivating, just one thought about the exquisite taste was making her hips buck unconsciously. The action made you slip a tiny moan. Melissa put her legs over your hips making your cunts millimeters apart. Heavy breathings, chest rising in anticipation of the pleasure you two gonna share together. You broke the teasing it was too much at this point it felt like hours of torture. (You liked little bit of torture, but now its not about it, now is about connection). 

You palmed her hips, focusing the main attention on her kooley. Slightly pressing your pussies together, clits throbbing against each other. You both moaned at the pleasant contact. The wetness pressed to wetness. You could sense the surprised look from Melissa, she never thought she'd be this wet, and certainly that she could make you this wet. As Schemmenti is, she took the lead. Plush hips riding yours, sending electricity through both of you. Soaked clits touching, making you whine both shuddering at the aching feeling.

“Agh– like this please Mel.” You begged. 

If only you knew the effect begging had on Melissa. She liked every single sounds you made together whether it's a moan or watery sounds from your cunts. You cupped her rosy cheeks, making Italiano look you right in the eyes. The light banging of hips and the wet sounds filled the room. It felt like it was only you two in that room. Just you, just your feelings, pleasure. The heated kisses shared in the tender moment. Tugging at fiery red hair just added to the general bliss. Her soft skin, full puffy lips from all shared kisses between the steamy sessions, dark green eyes completely blown by lust. Melissa swirled her hips again making your clits in contact bringing the sweet pleasure from wonderful frequstion. It almost made you see stars. You were close and so was she. Breasts closely pressed together, nipples brushing, cunts closer than ever.   

“Mel baby I`m closeee.” You cried out, with tears in your eyes.

“Don't come yet, hun I want us to do it together.” Melissa breathed out with drops of sweat running down her face. 

You eagerly nodded, you didn't want to disappoint your lover. Bodies knit together, sweat, skin, smell of sex, and perfume overflowing the room. Melissa`s movements became increasingly stiff and steady making it her mission to make you cum. Putting all her body weight on your pelvis, humping her hips on your clit providing each step closer to the finish. She had her concentrated face which looked hot as hell. At this point anything could make you blow up with pleasure, but as a good girl you waited for your lover. Fiery Italian was getting closer and closer. Her first instinct was to press your head tightly to her deliciously full breasts.

“Yeah I'm almost there, suck on my nipple, hun please! I'm almost there!” She cried out while moving her thighs faster.

Melisa`s fist was in your soft locks pushing you impossibly close to her sensitive breasts. Sucking, nibbling, licking it later to smooth the reddened flesh. To provide the redhead release faster you bucked in the unison. Clits caressing against each other, hips riding the last straw to send you both into pure bliss. On the pick of your best orgasm you said:

“I LOVEE YOUU MEL aghhh!!” 

“LOVE YOUU HUN ughh!!” 

No awkwardness, just all the feelings that were bubbled inside were finally sent free by the sex, no it was lovemaking. Two souls tied together by love. Finally the ability to share and be honest with yourself ended up in a warm embrace with Melissa. She looked incredibly charming, her face a little red, sweat on her forehead but the smile and eye she was giving you. That was worth all the self doubt, battle and toxic thoughts of fixing yourself. You knew for sure you would never find another person who would fit your soul like Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmeni can. 

__________________________________________

And what about Garry? You got the message from him during the night you were too busy to respond. Simply he wanted to know where you were “Where the fuck are you?” But why would it matter if you are laying in the arms of the most beautiful woman you ever saw. You were done with him. He was fucking around and still expected of you to be faithful? Delusional. 

Thanks to Melissa and a lot of self analysis you get to the conclusion that men are probably not for you. No, they were surely not for you. You were lying to yourself for so long and now you were free. You just needed to find the right person and Melissa certainly was the one for you and you were the one for her. She just happened to be a woman and there is nothing wrong with it. There are more benefits than disadvantages.

Happy end! 

The moral of the story is gays, love women and only women. Girls don’t want men, they want Melissa Schemmenti.

tags: @janeyseymour @springwitch26 @pinkthrone445 @melagnes @iamnotoriginalphil @spoilmesweetieforficssake @realwitchieshit @fadingdaggerr @schemmentisbranzino @milfandh0ney @aspirationalpeony @agnessharknes @mandy-asimp @milfjuulpod @cosmichahn @schemmentigfs @daddy-heather-dunbar @spooky-holtz @the-bad-batch @beshbarmak1

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Linger

Sirius Black x rockstar! f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, like pretty rough guys he bites you till you bleed, underage drinking, underage smoking, a lot of smoking tbh, drunkish sex, kinda has a plot so yeah lmk if i missed anything

summary: you and your band mates decide to go out to a pub, where you end up meeting the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys i’m so bad at these summaries holy. this is probably my favorite fic i’ve written. the flirting and the tension like omg. trust me. also, let’s pretend The Runaways are british and let’s pretend everything id accurate hahaha. enjoy ;)

~~~

“Do you think we’ll be recognized tonight?”

You turn to your bandmate, Joan, and shrug. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

“What pub are we going to again?” She asks.

“The one where they let underage people in, of course, you’re still the only one who’s twenty-one in the band you know,” you reply.

The other two members of your band, Sandy and Lita, are ahead of you, engulfed in their own conversation. You slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket and try to keep up. You’ve been in the band for a few months as the new lead singer. Their old one left to start her own band, claiming it to be more successful. Yet your band is the one that’s gotten sold-out shows, interviews on television, and pictures in magazines. Sometimes you like to think it was fate that she left, and you just so happened to be in town the night they were holding auditions. The fans surely enjoy your voice more, they make you out to be the leader even though you’re only seventeen and the newest member. You don’t mind though, and neither do your bandmates.

It’s almost ten when you arrive at the pub and thankfully no one has recognized you yet, or they have and simply haven’t said anything. There’s no one at the door to check IDs just like Sandy had said. The four of you enter fast and find a table. The music is loud, the lights are low, and people are dancing all over. You like it, a lot.

“Drinks?” Lita questions a few seconds after you sit.

“You know it!” Joan replies.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Sandy takes out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for one?”

“Obviously,” you answer, holding your hand out. She hands you one, you’re quick to light it and stick it between your lips, inhaling a deep breath of smoke. “How come the police haven’t found this place?”

Joan rolls her eyes. “They have.”

“And? Why don’t they shut it down?”

“They have people who come here, of course, sons, daughters, you know that sort of thing. It may be illegal but it’s trustworthy,” she explains. “Why do you care anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious I suppose.”

Lita arrives back at the table, four glasses held in her arms. You take yours fast, eager to taste whatever liquor she got for you. It’s bitter, with a hint of sweetness in it. Based on the color as well, your guess is some sort of vodka mix. You drink it despite the awful aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. The cigarette between your fingers helps a bit. The four of you talk for a while and enjoy the peace of having no fans around.

“You should go to the bar y/n,” Lita says after some time. “Or well it might be too late now, but when I was there, I saw a boy your age, remarkably handsome.”

Sandy laughs. “You’re trying to send her home with someone already?”

Lita nudges the other girl with her shoulder. “No, I’m only trying to get some new song material.”

“We’ll see if there’s any potential,” you say, taking the last sip of your drink and getting up. You brush down your hair. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re always beautiful,” Joan answers, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“Wish me luck.” You chuckle before heading to the bar.

With every step you take, you feel eyes on you. Most belong to older men who shouldn’t even be paying you any mind. You’re used to the feeling of being watched, with all the fans and paparazzi that corner you before and after gigs. So, you move through the pub without a second thought about it.

In the back of your head, you curse yourself for not asking Lita what the guy looks like. For a moment you question how you’re supposed to find him, but then your curious eyes find one guy who stands out. He’s leaning on the wall, a glass in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. Based on his face, you figure he can’t be more than nineteen. And oh, how right Lita was. His hair is dark and long, almost reaching his shoulders. He’s dressed in a simple white tee shirt and baggy jeans. Despite the distance, you swear you can make out a sliver of a tattoo on his shoulder. He’s gorgeous, almost too gorgeous.

You approach him carefully, thinking of different opening lines in your head. Would it be wrong to use your fame to get him to take you home? Probably. But you’ve seen Joan do it plenty of times. She always says it’s simply a tool and that you should use it to your advantage. You’ve never done it though. Perhaps it’s your little amount of consciousness that remains that tells you it’s wrong. You don’t know and the alcohol in your system doesn’t help. So, when you reach him, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hi.”

He looks at you, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hello.”

“How old are you?” You ask, immediately feeling stupid for such a question.

“What are you a cop?” He chuckles.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No uh... sorry.”

“It’s fine love, just not a very good pick-up line,” he replies. He takes his cigarette out, his eyes locked on yours. “Especially since you look like you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen actually.” You correct him.

“Ah, well there’s something we share then.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you comforts you. There’s no recognition in his eyes at all. You can tell. To him, you are just another girl. Not the lead singer of The Runaways. Just a simple girl.

“You can try again if you’d like,” he says. You look at him, confused. “Try another pick-up line.”

You gently smile and think for a few seconds. Nothing better comes to mind.

“Come here often?”

He laughs. “Somehow I think that was worse than the first one.”

“Sorry. Usually, I’m better at this sort of thing,” you reply. You put your hands back in your pockets, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment of silence. He takes a sip of his drink; you stare at his hand. The way it looks wrapped around the glass makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You hate how much you want him to take you home. You don’t even know his name. But he’s handsome, so much so it makes you unable to think straight. You need to know more.

“Are you from around here?”

He nods. “Born and raised in London. You?”

For a split second you wonder, if he’s from London how come he doesn’t know who you are? Sure, your band isn’t on the same level of success as Queen or ACDC but you’re also not underground. You push the thought away.

“Originally from Westchester but now I’m here in London for... work,” you answer.

“Work? I thought you were seventeen.”

“Yes but, eighteen next month. I already finished school.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Wish I could say the same, I still have another year left. Though, I rather enjoy school, gets me away from my dear parents.”

“Oh, where do you go?”

You notice the way he shifts his posture. “Out of the country, you wouldn’t know of it.”

“Like a boarding school?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

You look around the pub, a slight feeling of awkwardness blooming within you. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve done this before. You decide to blame it on the cheap vodka because really, you’re better than this.

“So, what’s your name then?” You ask after a few more minutes.

“Does it really matter?” He replies, catching you a bit off guard. He flicks the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes on yours. “All of it’s the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb love, I know this isn’t your first time. I’m sure you’ve chatted up many other lads and had them take you home.” There’s something about the tone in which he speaks that has your knees almost wobble.

“Why would you think that?”

He sighs, leaning over to a small table discards his cigarette in an ashtray, and leaves his glass. When he leans back on the wall, now with both of his hands-free, he buries them in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He looks down at you with an expression that could send your morals far out of mind. You want him, terribly. And you think he knows this.

“Besides the fact that you said you’re usually better at this, you’re also possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he eventually answers.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, but nevertheless thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. Most girls I see still wear those long skirts and sweaters, but you, you’re dressed like you could pass as a rock star.”

Your face heats up once again. You know he’s right. With your leather jacket, flared jeans, high-heeled boots, and small tight top you know it’s clear what kind of person you are. Your makeup only adds to it, black smudged eyeliner and glitter on your eyes. It’s a toned-down version of what you wear on stage. He doesn’t need to know that though.

You give him a smile and shrug. “Rock is my favorite genre, what can I say? You sort of got that look too though, not quite as intense.”

“Not a gentleman?” He chuckles.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. “At least I hope not.”

“I see. You don’t fancy the good boys. Well fortunately for you, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. At least, that’s what my schoolmates and family say,” he mentions. “What’s wrong with the good boys anyway? They could treat you like a lady.”

“Too gentle, I’m not a fan of it,” you answer honestly.

He smirks, sending warmth straight to your core. “So is your intention to get me out of here and treat you... not gently?”

“My intention is simply to buy you another drink, maybe enjoy a dance or two. What happens at the end of the night is not particularly on my mind right now. I’m more focused on learning your name. Why? Is that what you’d fancy?” You counter, looking up at him through your long lashes.

It has the effect you hoped for because he stands up straight, his back finally off the wall. He offers his hand to you, and you take it softly in yours. It’s so much bigger, so much warmer. You try your hardest to kill all the thoughts of where else you’d like him to touch you with his hand.

“Sirius Black,” he introduces himself.

“Like the star?” You question without thinking.

“Yes, like the star. Now what’s your name.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” you say.

“Charmed. So, how about that drink?”

You smile. It’s going to be a good night, you know it.

The next few hours go by in a flash. You and Sirius drink more than you probably should and dance to the many different songs that play on the jut box. A few different times throughout the night you find the eyes of your bandmates, each of them giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they watch you with Sirius. At one point Joan makes a lewd hand gesture, and you barely get a chance to see Lita smack her. It’s past twelve when you find yourself outside the pub with Sirius sitting on a curb sharing a cigarette.

“I hate these bloody shoes,” you mumble as you dig your heel into the pavement. “They make my feet sore.”

“Then why do you wear them?” Sirius asks, amusement evident in his tone.

You exhale a long breath of smoke, passing the half-burnt cigarette back to him. “I dunno. Beauty is pain.”

“For some, but I’m sure even without those things you’re just as pretty. Actually, I would bet pounds on that being true,” he replies.

“I think I’m rather plain without all this. Would you think the same of me without my makeup and outfit?”

You watch him smirk. “I should think you look even prettier without all of that on. Especially the clothes.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies for the thousandth time tonight. Your shyness left hours ago when you took your first shot. So, instead of simply blushing and looking away, you stand and look down at him with your own smirk.

“Quite the charmer. How about you find come back to mine and find out for yourself?”

He takes one last drag of the cigarette before standing, flicking it to the pavement, and crushing it beneath his sneaker. You watch helplessly as he releases a cloud of smoke, his hand now held out to you.

“I’d quite like that. Lead the way.”

~~~

You don’t know how you keep your composure the whole way home, especially with Sirius’s hand handing yours the entire time. On the train, as you sit, your head on his shoulder, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. It’s a gesture that makes you glad you aren’t standing because your legs feel like jelly. And on the walk up to your apartment, he lets go of your hand and instead places it on the small of your back. You almost fall down the stairs at the contact.

Once you’re inside you immediately take off your boots, leaving them somewhere by the front door. Your jacket follows, only it’s hung on one of your kitchen chairs. When you turn to look at Sirius you find his eyes wandering all over your apartment, examining the details you assume. His sneakers are off, his hands are in his pockets.

“You must have a special job, this place is wonderful,” he says.

“My mates help me with the money, it’s not all mine,” you reply. It’s true, they do help you earn money from performing. You step closer to him, your hands behind your back. “And it’s really not that big. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one very tiny living room combined with the kitchen. But it’s more than enough for me. Would you like the tour?”

“Of course, if the tour starts in your bedroom.”

You can’t help the blush that takes over your face. “Follow me.”

The walk is fast, with every step you feel your heart rate increase. You’ve done this a few times, but for some reason, this time feels different. Perhaps it’s because all the other guys can’t compare to Sirius’s beauty in the slightest. Or perhaps it’s because you already like him a bit more than you should for a one-nighter. You don’t know. And you don’t care to know because you’re about to reach your door.

You open the door fast, letting him in first, and closing it behind you. It’s dark, the only lights coming from outside your small window. You don’t reach for the lights though. Instead, you step closer to the boy, the sound of your breathing suddenly far too loud for your liking. His silhouette moves closer to you as well. It’s almost like there’s an invisible force pushing the two of you together, and you find yourself liking it.

He touches you first. One of his hands finds your waist, he guides you to him faster. Soon enough, you’re practically pressed against him. You can barely breathe from the proximity. You’ve never felt something this intense. You look up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Still want me to not be gentle?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to ruin me,” you say, pressing one of your hands to his chest. You’re happy to find his heart is racing just like yours. “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright.”

Before you can even think of another thought, his lips are on yours. You kiss back instantaneously, your hand moving up into his hair. It’s soft, like you expected. He’s far from gentle with his kissing, and you’re glad. His lips move fast on yours, his teeth scraping your tongue. He bites down on your lip so hard you whimper, and the metallic taste of your blood clouds your senses.

Still, despite the pain, when he pulls back you almost whine from the loss of contact. But his hands move fast to pull your shirt up. You help him get it off, then move to his. Through the darkness, you can see the few tattoos he has on his chest and shoulder. They’re dark, they’re beautiful. You run your fingertips over them as he leans back down and connects your lips once again. You begin to guide the two of you towards your bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. Sirius doesn’t follow you though. Instead, he stands between your legs at the foot of the bed and begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. You watch in awe, lifting your hips to help him drag them down your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties. You sit up, your eyes on him, as you start undoing his belt.

After his jeans are on the floor he pushes you back down on the mattress, climbing over you this time. You kiss him deeply, dragging one of your hands down his warm back, and weaving the other through his hair. That warmth deep inside you has grown, consuming you entirely. You can feel the wetness between your legs, surely staining your panties. You’ve never been so turned on by a guy in your life.

He suddenly parts your kiss, his lips beginning to move down your jaw and neck. You moan, throwing your head back to give him more access. When he bites down on you, so hard you can feel a stinging from it breaking skin, you pull at his hair, sounds of pleasure escaping your swollen lips.

Eventually, after leaving many hickeys and bite marks on your neck, he pulls back entirely and flips you over onto your stomach. You smirk against the mattress as you feel him unclip your bra. To help get it off, you lift yourself on your hands, and the straps quickly fall. You throw it off without even thinking about it. You’re about to turn back but Sirius presses a hand between your shoulder blades, silently telling you to stay as you are. You don’t hesitate to comply.

You feel him move and instinctively you lift your hips in the air. He places a kiss on your back, it almost makes you shiver. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your last piece of clothing off. You normally would feel some sense of vulnerability at this point. Completely naked with your ass in the air. But the alcohol mixed with the utter need you have for Sirius takes control. You feel him shift.

“Do you have a rubber?” The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your legs together.

“Unless you have a disease, you don’t need one. I’m on birth control,” you answer, looking over your shoulder at him.

“No diseases I swear,” he says.

“Then proceed.”

You get up properly on all fours, the anticipation killing you. When he positions his tip at your entrance, you inhale sharply. He rubs his cock through your wet folds for a few seconds, brushing against your clit ever so slightly, before thrusting inside you in one quick, hard motion. You can’t help the moan that leaves you. He’s big, stretching you in a way that’s on the brink of being painful. It’s perfect.

He fucks you hard, very hard. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. At one point, your arms give out and your face presses against the mattress. Your hands twist in the sheets, your moans muffled by the bed. Sirius doesn’t like this. He twists one of his hands in your hair and pulls you up, the pain only adding to the building of your orgasm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. “Fuck Sirius.”

He’s relentless. He fucks you through your first orgasm, not faltering for even a second. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, pulling out and flipping you onto your back. You scratch your nails down his back as he begins to fuck you in missionary, your lips on his.

You don’t know how long passes by the time he tells you he’s close. What you do know is that your second orgasm is not far either. With tears in your eyes, you let him switch positions once again, this time you’re on top of him. Your muscles are weak and sore, but that doesn’t stop you from riding him as well as you can. Sweat covers your body, and incoherent words drip off your lips. You can barely take it anymore.

“I-I’m almost there,” you mumble.

“Me too love,” Sirius replies, his breath ragged. “Finish us both off.”

You struggle to hold yourself up, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, just a few more minutes,” he assures you, running one of his hands through your hair.

Much to his word, in a few minutes, he finishes. Hard. He moans your name in an indescribable tone, and his cock pulses inside you so intently, it causes your second orgasm to occur. As this happens, you lie on his chest, both of your breathing very uneven. He holds you tight against him.

Eventually, you roll off him and stare at your ceiling. You try to comprehend what just happened. Never in your life have you experienced something so intense. Most of the time when you told guys to be rough with you, they’d be turned off. But Sirius... You turn to your side to face him.

“Want a smoke?”

“Certainly.”

~~~

It’s safe to say, you don’t let him go all summer. You spend every second you can with him. Most of the time in your sheets, but a good amount doing other things. You paint his nails black, teach him how to wear eyeliner, and how to dress more like yourself. You enjoy every second you get with him.

He never does discover your fame, at least he never says so. You think he would know. Each time you go out you try your hardest to be unnoticeable and you always hide away magazines and switch the channel whenever something about your band is shown. But he never does say anything. Sometimes at night, you sing to him softly and you always laugh when he tells you that you should take it professionally.

You learn how much he hates his family, except for his little brother. You learn he loves Queen and David Bowie. You learn his favorite color is ironically black. You learn as much about him as you can and with each fact you do learn, you only fall more for him. But you never speak of it. You know the inevitable ending.

On the night before he goes back to school, the two of you lay in your bed, a thick silence between you. As usual, you pass a cigarette back and forth. Only this time, there are no words accompanying. Until he speaks.

“For once, I’m not looking forward to going back.”

You turn to your stomach and look at him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me either,” he agrees. He holds the cigarette to you; you take it fast. “I can phone you if you want. You know, while I’m there. Or send letters.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You question.

“I think I really fancy you, and I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

You give him a weak smile and press a kiss on his bare shoulder. “Oh, Sirius.”

~~~

A few months later...

“Five minutes till show time,” an assistant tells you.

You’re sitting in your dressing room backstage. Joan, Sandy, and Lita all have their own space now. You find it funny how much The Runaways have blown up since the summer. Now, everywhere you turn you see yourself in a magazine or a news article. You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, or without the paparazzi showing up.

As you look in the mirror your mind travels back to Sirius. This happens a lot. Right before a concert, you think of him. Sometimes you wonder if maybe he’s out there listening. You haven’t heard from him since he went to school. You aren’t angry, only a bit sad. You’re mostly grateful though. He inspired most of the songs in your number-one album that got the band all the new attention.

You stand from the vanity and sigh. Tonight, your performance is being televised worldwide. Beside the door is your guitar, you pick it up as you begin your journey out to the stage. You’ve got a good lineup, even a small intermission for a happy birthday song. You hope wherever he is he hears it.

After all, it is November 3rd.