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schrodingers-romy · 1 month ago

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Diner Vignette [Usagiyama Rumi x Reader]

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi x GN!Reader Word Count: ~800 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: A soft little moment at a late-night diner

Warnings: none afaik, some kissing i guess, just some sweet vibes

Notes: i've wanted to write some fluff with my wife for a long time! (also the comment i make about soft teeth grinding being a sign of contentedness from rabbits is true! however, loud or very insistent grinding can be a sign of pain or distress, so if you're unsure which your rabbit is doing please record a video and show it to a vet to be safe <3)

The city lights filtering through the raindrop-slick window reminded you of an abstract painting, all rounded smears and bubbles of color. The soft, dreamlike quality of the view only cast the sight of your girlfriend sitting across from you in even starker relief. Your sleep-heavy gaze brightened as you focused on her.

Rumi was still in her hero costume, fresh off patrol when she met you at your favorite diner. She was a little late, because she ran into some trouble that day; evidence of which was present on her face in the form of small butterfly stitches running across her split eyebrow. When she had bounded into the restaurant, twenty minutes late and damp with the night’s first traces of rain, you had taken care to press a gentle kiss to the wound. Even though you knew she was impossibly strong, you still felt the constant itch to comfort and care for her every miniscule injury. (She had laughed when you doted over her after she simply stubbed a toe, but she didn’t push you away. She didn’t need your care, yet she basked in it all the same.)

Her tardiness worked in her favor somewhat, anyways. By the time she slid onto the bench across from you, there was already a fresh plate of waffles sitting on the table, ready for her to devour. Your own food was sitting in front of you, untouched, until Rumi arrived. (When you told her you were waiting, she let out a small huff and then insisted on feeding you the first forkful, as a sort of wordless apology, though you hardly were starving in the time she was absent.)

Now, she was happily plowing through her food, blueberry syrup smeared across her lips in a sticky purple gloss. Rumi tried hard to swallow before she spoke, a rare instance of politeness, but sometimes she forgot in her haste to tell you about her day. (You were a little disgusted with yourself that you found her garbled speech endearing.) You listened intently, chin in your hands and elbows propped up on the table, your own empty plate pushed to the side. You had already offered up your own meagre tales from the day, but you were tired, and the prospect of listening to your girlfriend was infinitely more appealing than talking yourself.

After the last forkful of waffles disappeared into her mouth, Rumi made to wipe her face with a napkin. You reached out a hand to stop her.

“C’mere,” you said, voice a little slower and softer than normal. Rather than leaning across the table, she got up and joined you on your bench, sliding close enough that your thighs were pressed warmly together. She was uncharacteristically quiet, and her ruby eyes watched you curiously.

You didn’t give her a verbal reply, instead closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips together.

Rumi’s lips were tacky with sugary berries, and she tasted like them, too. As you melted into her, you thought that the kiss would have been sweet without them, anyways.

It wasn’t an efficient way of cleaning her face; in fact, you really just made more of a mess. But she giggled at your antics, when you broke apart, and snatched her napkin to gently wipe your own face clean. So, it was more than worth it.

“Did you miss me today, sugar?” Rumi purred, teasing.

You tsked. “You’re more of a ‘sugar’, with your sweet tooth,” you replied.

“Ah, you see, that is precisely the reason why I picked you. Because you’re so sweet.”

“Says the sweet talker. You sure you’re not tasting your own honey, bunny?”

You both blinked at each other for a moment, before bursting into simultaneous laughter.

“That was all so cheesy,” you wheezed.

She was no better, cackling so loudly it echoed in the bare diner. “We’re both so tired, aren’t we? Our minds have gone loopy!”

The both of you continued to break out into scattered giggling fits, leaning on each other for support as you steadied your breaths and rode out the waves of amusement. Eventually, the true tiredness won, and Rumi’s head began to rest more heavily on your shoulder.

You reached one arm around so you could run your fingers through her hair, as her carmine eyes fluttered shut. A soft teeth-grinding noise drifted from her, something she once told you was a rabbit’s way of showing contentedness. You smiled at it, shifting so you could press your mouth to the crown of her head, a subtle kiss.

You knew that soon, you would have to dart your way through the still pouring rain, back to your apartment. You would have to peel off soaking clothes, then take a warm shower together that you would both be too tired to make heated, before you could finally stumble to bed.

You didn’t dwell on any of that, however; you savored the moment, holding your love close to you as the dreamlike patterns of lights outside flickered across the rain-frosted glass.

#usagiyama rumi x reader #bnha x reader #rumi usagiyama x reader #mirko x reader #miruko x reader #mha x reader #mirko fluff #usagiyama rumi fluff #usagiyama rumi #rumi usagiyama #bnha #gender neutral reader #reader insert #romy can write

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bits-and-babs · 2 years ago

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This is only the first of what I hope will not be too many, but here we go! 🗝 Joel Miller + Country cowbow aesthetic. Because why not?! <3

⋆ 𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐌�� 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖

CountryCowboy!Joel Miller x f!Reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: soft af, made my heart ache, playful flirting, literally such southern stereotypes written by an English Woman. Dry humping. 18+ ya nasties!

summary: Retired Rodeo-Cowboy Joel Miller settles down on his ranch with his number one fan.

joel masterlist I| main masterlist |I follower celebration I| ask |I

“They’re more hassle than they’re worth, y’know?”

A smile pulls at the edges of your mouth the moment his complaints reach your ears. His gruff voice drips with sarcasm, but you keep your eyes on the horses that prance around the paddock. They lift their hooves with synchronised grace, performing a dance as they clopped across the dried soil.

“That may be,” you muse, brushing your palms over the planks of wood that contained the mares. They’re beautiful beasts, their coats shining beneath the sunshine that the rim of your Stetson shields your face from. “But they’re mighty fine.”

The mocking southern accent you respond with has Joel pushing his elbow into your side.

“Hey!” You burst into a fit of giggles, the laughter bubbling from your throat before you’re able to suppress it. When you look up, Joel’s face is flat, that typical ‘Clint Eastwood Stand-off’ vibe that he always emanates, but his eyes betray him. There’s amusement swirling in his deep tan-leather irises.

Joel rests his palms on the wood, too, casting his gaze over the field. He’s handsome like this, you think, the dying gilded sunshine painting his face golden. It’s clearly crawled under his skin, cheeks glowing a subtle pink with sunburn and making the greys of his beard starker amongst the brown. His matching salt and pepper hair is windswept from working all day in the summer breeze.

It’s ridiculous, you think. All these years together, travelling to rodeos and spending most of your time hiding behind your fingers when he wrestled steers, you still felt the butterflies erupt in your stomach when you looked at him. He’d since hung up his bulldogging boots, ‘far too old to be wrangling bullocks’, and had taken up a much quieter life breeding horses for racing.

“You know,” Joel smirks, not bothering to look at you when he teases you, “You’re always talkin’ ‘bout how pretty they are but spend all your time lookin’ at me.”

“Shut up,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away from him and folding your arms across your chest with an indignant huff. The rumbles of a chuckle reach your ears, and you can feel your cheeks heat up.

“It ain’t so bad, you know,” he speaks softly, trying to ease your embarrassment, “It’s nice to know an old man’s still got it.”

You can’t stay mad at him for very long. That southern charm that effortlessly and unknowingly bleeds through each word works its way between your ribs and lassoes your heart with such ease. Again, you find yourself smiling, turning to look at him again. He’s unable to smother the grin that’s threatening to stretch across his lips, the edges of his mouth twitching.

“You’re not an old man,” you promise, reaching your hand across the small space between you. You hook your finger under the metal of his belt buckle and pull him towards you with a grin. He arches a brow at you pointedly, and you shrug with a grin. “Mhm, okay, maybe you’re a little old.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, watching you smooth your hands over his hips and waist.

“The kind of old that makes a man even more handsome,” you promise him, unable to look him in the eyes and choosing instead to drag your eyes over the tanned skin that glistens with sweat just beyond the collar of his flannel, “You age like whiskey, Joel.”

“Jack Daniels or Southern Comfort?” He asks, and you can feel his gaze dancing across your face, burning into your mouth and tracing your lips.

“Mhmm…” you hum softly, finally braving his stare and looking up at him. His eyes are dark with a rich need, hungering for your lips on his. “Redbreast.”

He can’t stand it anymore, you think, leaning down suddenly to press his lips to yours. They’re slightly dry from the heat, and you can taste the salt of his sweat. His body heards you against the fence, his work-worn hands dragging over your thighs and hips with a delicious hum that pools arousal between your thighs.

“Joel,” you breathe into his mouth. It comes out a little more desperate than you’d like, a little needier, but Joel doesn’t complain. His hands are hoisting you up, settled just beneath your ass, so your legs wrap around him.

“These fuckin’ jeans,” he huffs, frustrated when he lightly slaps your ass. Again, you’re laughing, knowing he hates them. They hug your figure just right, too tricky to get off in a hurry. “Just gonna have to make do, aren’t I?”

You’re unable to question him, to ask what he means, because he’s immediately grinding his hips against your own in a way that adds just the right amount of pressure to your clit through the seam of your jeans. Fuck, he’s rock hard beneath you, clearly turned on by your ridiculous teasing and the way you melted at the sight of him.

He swallows your moans with heated kisses, tongue dragging against your own. Fuck, his hands are squeezing at the flesh of your ass through the denim, enjoying the handfuls he steals.

It’s deliberate. The slow, heavy arcs of his hips when he grinds into you, focusing all the pressure on your clit with expertise only he could offer. He’d mapped out your body after all these years, the peaks and troughs of your structure memorised like the landscape of his ranch. Joel knew every pleasure point of your body, how to work them to his advantage and to your detriment.

“Fuck,” you whine softly, feeling him smirk into your shared kiss. Leaning your head back, you sigh when he pulls his lips across your jugular, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your pulse.

“Kiss your mother with that mouth, Darlin’?” He questions you, and you answer with a pointed, open-palm slap against his shoulder. He chuckles again, but responds with another heavy drag of his hips.

“Ohfu-“ you choke out, tears welling in your eyes. He just ruins you, just picks you apart and puts you together again so that all you can think about is the throbbing arousal that shoots up your spine.

“You gonna give it to me, Darlin’? Come on, Sugar. Come on,” he whispers to you, that gravelly tone sparking something honey-sweet inside of you. It’s not the lighting crack that he usually produces. No, it pours through you like molasses, slow and rolling and dripping between your thighs. A soft, drawn-out moan of Joel’s name pushes its way from your lips, and he praises you as your thighs squeeze him tight.

“Mhmm, Good Girl,” he hums, planting kisses along your jaw with a grin. “Don’t think I’ll have to work hard to wrangle you into bed, will I?”

He doesn’t.

END

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your-divine-ribs · 5 months ago

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Heat

Words: 3.4k

Summer holiday balcony sex // it’s really dirty ☀️❤️☀️

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

It's hot. That cloying kind of heat that clings to you like a stifling blanket, the air thick with a choking mugginess that makes it hard to settle and impossible to sleep.

You elongate your limbs in a feline stretch as you roll over in bed, causing your boyfriend's hand which had been draped over your hip to fall away. You'd normally be pressed up tightly against him as you slept but you'd naturally pulled apart tonight, so hot and sticky that you couldn't bear the additional warmth of each other's body heat.

You're both naked, having shed every layer to try and find respite from the unrelenting heatwave but it's inescapable. You toss and you turn, the thin linen sheets sticking to your clammy skin, cursing the fact that the air conditioning unit in your holiday apartment had decided to pack up working tonight of all nights. Just when the punishing temperatures had risen to a unprecedented peak, transforming the balmy nights into something wholly unbearable.

A breeze whispers into the room through the open balcony doors, it's still warm but it's a tiny reprieve and you instinctively rise up from the bed, turning towards the source. Van stirs on the bed at your movement but he doesn't wake, he just lets out a soft snore through his slightly parted lips, his long limbs spread-eagled out on the crumpled sheets. You take a moment to admire him, the way the silvery glow of the moonlight catches his striking features, the light sheen of sweat glistening on his naked skin. You consider climbing back on to the bed to rouse him from the depths of sleep with a few strategically placed kisses, but again you feel the tantalising Mediterranean breeze caressing your skin and the temptation for relief from the humid atmosphere in the apartment bedroom is just too strong.

The night is quiet save for the distant muted sounds of late-night revellers spilling out of bars on the main strip. You'd purposely booked this apartment complex a few streets away from the hustle and bustle, favouring a quieter spot tucked away, an idyllic slice of Iberian paradise where the two of you could kick back and reconnect after your busy lifestyles had taken their toll.

You step forward but hesitate on the threshold when you realise that you've not picked up your silk robe to wrap around your naked frame, but then in an uncharacteristic rush of boldness you shuffle forwards anyway. A thrill sparks in you as you quickly glance around, surveying the quiet neighbouring apartments shrouded in darkness. It doesn't look like there's any signs of life, but that's not to say that another guest won't see you out here, completely naked, standing on your apartment balcony, bold as brass. You giggle quietly to yourself. You're certainly not a prude but it's not at all like you to be so daring. There's just something about the idea that someone might catch sight of you like this that's kind of turning you on. Not to mention that it feels totally liberating.

Emboldened by your braveness you step even further out, placing your hands on the railing and looking out into the night. It's a beautiful view in the daytime but somehow it's even more breathtaking now, almost magical the way that the luminescence from the moon's glow coats everything in a silvery lustre. Crickets chirrup in the grasses below you, palms sway gently in the breeze and the pool water below shifts lazily like cascading sequins.

"Bloody 'ell! What you doing out 'ere starkers?"

Van's shocked voice suddenly cuts through the peaceful quiet, making you jump. You hadn't even realised that he'd woken up. You whirl around quickly, instinctively covering yourself with your hands even though you're not usually shy around him.

"I was just getting a bit of air... it's too hot to sleep. I... forgot my robe..."

You can see his lips quirk up into a smile as his eyes trail down over your nakedness. "I'm not complaining love... just wasn't expecting it, that's all. I didn't have you pegged as an exhibitionist!"

He folds his hands across his chest, leaning back against the door frame, still appraising you.

"I'm not!" You protest, giggling, letting your hands fall to your sides to allow Van's eyes to roam over all of you. Predictably they do.

"Really? So you're not out here flashing the neighbours then? You'll give that old guy we saw round the pool earlier a heart attack if ya not careful!"

You allow him a mischievous grin, pushing your shoulders back as you rest an elbow on the railing to lean against it. It's a casual pose even though you feel anything but, worrying that Van's loud voice might draw attention to you both up here. He's naked too, although he'd be partially hidden from prying eyes by his proximity to the apartment doorway. You, however, would be on full display.

"Keep your voice down!" You whisper, still giggling. "No one's out here to see anyway. And I'm definitely not an exhibitionist... not like you!"

His eyes widen as he presses a hand against his chest. "Me? Never!"

"Yes you," you smirk back at him. "What was that in the pool earlier? 'Oh whoops, my trunks seem to have just slipped off!' Yeah, right!"

You indicate the water below you, replaying the humorous scene in your mind from earlier when Van was bragging about his diving skills and had pleaded with you to watch him. How he'd plunged into the pool skilfully only to surface moments later holding aloft his swimming trunks that had somehow become completely separated from his body. The gasps of surprise from two middle-aged ladies who undoubtedly got an eyeful as Van had whirled his trunks around his head proudly whilst you'd captured the whole hilarious incident on camera.

"I told you those trunks were too big when ya bought 'em for me," he sniggers.

You shake your head, trying to stifle more laughter. "Bloody liar... they fit perfectly. You just love getting your kit off in public. Reckon you get a kick out of it."

Van pushes his body off from the doorframe, taking a step towards you. "Says the girl standing out here with not a stitch of clothing on for all the world to see..."

You straighten up to lean with your lower back against the railings as he approaches, looking up at him with a glimmer of a challenge in your eye. "Well... you're not exactly fully dressed, are you?"

He comes to a stop just inches away, looking down on you. "Maybe we're both as bad as each other then." His hands move forward simultaneously to grip the railings on either side of your hips, caging you in. Your breath catches as he presses his body forward and your hips meet. "Maybe we're both turned on by the risk... the thought that someone could catch us at it... the thought that someone could be watching us right now..."

His whispered words take that low and sultry tone he uses when he's trying to seduce you, and boy does it work. You stay quiet, looking up at him through your lashes, purposefully coyly as he moves a hand to catch your jaw, wrapping his fingers only gently around your throat. Your pulse quickens.

"I think maybe you'd quite like that... am I right?"

"It does kinda turn me on," you admit, pressing your pelvis forward to lightly grind against him, the unmistakable feeling of his stiffening cock setting off a glow of heat at the apex of your thighs. "But we can't do anything out here... there's no way. Anyone could see..."

Even as the words leave your mouth you're aware that they carry no conviction. You're already flicking through scenarios of what might happen, imagining his hot breath panted against your skin, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he spread them wide and took you right here and now for the whole world to see if they cared to look.

"We can do whatever we like babe," he breathes, lips hovering just inches above yours as he leans over you, pressing your body back against the railings so it arches up towards him. "I could turn you around right now and have you over this balcony if you wanted me to. Fuck into you nice and slow and deep, make you moan out loud for me so everyone knows just how good it feels. Would you like that, huh?"

"Oh my god," you gasp, arousal pooling between your thighs as he pushes his hips against you even harder, his now hard cock trapped between your two bodies. The stickiness of the heat just makes everything seem more charged, the slickness from your combined sweat creating a delicious slippery friction between you.

"Come on love," he urges, his fingers flexing around your throat, squeezing firmly enough to give that pressure you crave, tempting you further. "Wanna fuck you so bad... right here, right now."

It's shameless, the effect he has on you. The way your body reacts almost autonomously to his attentions. You're insatiable for him and he's only too eager in his mission to try and sate you, the perfect partners in crime. With no further encouragement you're already twisting your body, letting him spin you around so your hips are now pushed firmly against the hard metal, prone against it as he slides a foot against one of yours, nudging your legs wide apart. There's a small ledge that you've stepped up to balance on, bringing you up to the perfect height to be aligned with him.

His hands skate over your hips, curling around them, tightening their grip as he pulls you back to grind against him. Your skin's so hot, on fire, burning with the same feverish desire that's simmering between your thighs.

"Van..." you whimper, pushing your ass back against him, feeling the sharp jut of his hips. "Need you..."

His lips go to your neck, sucking hot, wet kisses, his teeth nipping at your skin with a pressure that makes you gasp. "I'm here baby... I got you."

One of his hands snakes forward from your thighs, the roughness of his calloused fingers brushing against your folds, making you shudder. He's in no mood to tease tonight, two of his skilful fingers easing straight into you knuckle deep, twisting and scissoring inside you, working you open for him.

"You're so wet for me already," he mutters into the skin of your neck. "Is this what it does to you eh? The thought that someone could be out there, watching us?"

"Yeah," you whimper needily, your hands tightening their grip on the metal railings as he pushes his fingers even deeper inside, seeking that heavenly spot that makes you mewl for him.

"You dirty girl," he chuckles throatily, thrusting his fingers in and out, again and again, sliding so easily against your slick heat, your knees knocking against the balcony wall. "We'll give 'em something to watch then shall we?"

God, how you love the feel of his fingers inside of you. They're so long and slender, and he knows how to use them so well. How to angle them just right to make you clench around him, when to add another digit, the precise curve to curl them at to make your legs shake. You're already moaning softly for him when all of a sudden he withdraws them, making you whine from the loss of fullness for a second until they're replaced by the head of his cock, velvety smooth and hard as rock, begging for entrance.

He mutters your name as his thick shaft nudges into you. He feels so big in this position it almost feels like he could split you in two. You bite down hard on your lip to stifle a choked cry, tasting something metallic. He pushes into you with purpose, filling you up until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck," you hiss, loving the burn of the stretch, knowing that after this you'll be able to feel him for days. He stills inside you, letting you become accustomed as your walls clench and flex around him, his body curved tightly over yours, enveloping you.

"Feels so good... so perfect... you're so fucking tight babe," he utters, his mouth hot on the skin of your shoulder, his teeth sinking lightly into your flesh as he pulls his hips back and sinks into you again.

His thrusts are slow and languid, unhurried and precise, a throaty groan emanating from him each time he bottoms out. It feels blissful but you crave something darker and more urgent, desire dulling your usual hesitance, the notion of being taken roughly in this most compromising of positions chasing away your inhibitions.

"Fuck me hard... please," you beg, elongating your neck to tip your head back to rest on his shoulder, bracing your body for what's to come.

"Oh babe," he growls into your neck, fingers digging harder into your hips as he draws back to thrust into you again. "I'll fuck you so hard everyone in this apartment block's gonna know my name by morning."

His hips suddenly piston against you with force, a choked whine bursting from you from the impact, your own hips knocking harshly against the railings. It feels so good, so raw, so fierce. One of his hands darts up to curl around your throat, pinning you up tightly against his body, the other slips down to rub messy circles around your clit.

The muggy heat of the night is oppressive and thick, your bodies drenched with sweat. You're trapped between his rutting hips and the unrelenting metal railings, gripping on to them for dear life as he takes control of your body, on display for anyone who might care to look up on this most beautiful clear and cloudless night. The sky's deep ink with an array of softly twinkling stars, like diamonds have been scattered across black velvet.

Your body jolts each time he pounds into you, the stillness of the night punctuated by his gravelly grunts of exertion and the slap of his sweat soaked hips colliding with yours. His strokes get deeper, harder when you beg him keenly for more.

"Oh god yeah... just like that," you whimper, unable to stem your sounds of pleasure, your tits bouncing as he slams into you, your mind fracturing as his cock butts up against your g spot with blissful precision over and over.

He knows you're close already, he can feel the tell-tale tremors in your body, the way your cunt clenches tightly around his cock, milking his own oncoming high. You're both lost in each other, minds fogged over with how good it feels, unmindful of where you are, and how public it is, and how fucking loud you're both being.

"Ah fuck... ‘m gonna come... can't hold on," he groans, his fingers flicking quick, slippery strokes over your sweet spot, your hips grinding back into his pelvis each time he slams into you. You're chasing your orgasm, desperate and needy as you feel a spark of white hot pleasure ignite deep down in your core.

And then it's too much all at once, his tightened grip on your throat, the feel of him hot and hard and pulsing inside you, his impassioned groans in your ear as he lets himself go. You feel something stretch taut and snap in an explosion of shuddering bliss, your knees going weak as he secures you tightly against his body, fucking up into you with a few final thrusts as you feel his release spurting deep inside.

He slumps heavily against you, heart thundering against your spine as your head hangs between your shoulders, panting whilst you catch your breath.

"Jeez, it's so fucking hot," he breathes out heavily, pressing a kiss to the damp, sticky skin of your shoulder. "Feel like I'm gonna pass out after that."

"Tell me about it, I feel so faint... and I think my legs are gonna give way in a minute!"

You laugh shakily, feeling him start to soften inside as he pulls out, the warm trickle of his seed immediately coating the inside of your thighs.

"Ughh I need a shower so bad," you add, turning around in his arms to reach up and plant a small kiss on his jaw, then his cheek, then his full lips which are pulled into the widest, cheekiest grin. "You certainly look happy with yourself," you observe, smiling back, draping your hands over his shoulders to support yourself on your shaky legs.

"Of course I'm happy, I'm on holiday with my gorgeous girlfriend, I'm having the best time, life's pretty much perfect right now..." he pauses, his smile getting even wider and more mischievous, his eyebrows dancing upwards in amusement. "And... even better... I've just discovered another one of your kinks."

"What the hell you talking about?" You giggle, trying to inch Van back into the privacy of your apartment after your wanton display out here on the balcony, your shyness trickling back as the heat of passion subsides.

"Fucking in public places," he announces proudly and loudly, yelping as you slap your hand hard against his bare chest, urging him to "shhhh be quiet, will you?"

"I knew it," he continues, undeterred as you both stumble back into the airless apartment. He catches hold of your hand and starts tugging you towards the bathroom. "I knew you had a thing for it! When you dragged me off to the toilets at that party at Benji's the other night you were like a bloody wild animal!"

You roll your eyes playfully. "Oh I hardly had to drag you... you were well up for it."

"I'm sure everyone knew what we were up to," he chuckles as you both make for the shower, bare feet slapping on the tiled floor. He reaches in and twists the tap, sighing at the relief of the cool water which quickly cascades down on you both as you quickly step in. "And I'm always up for it with you... and I gotta admit, it is a proper rush doing it in risky places. Like the thrill of someone catching you at it just makes it a million times hotter."

"That's exactly it!" You agree, then you bite back a shy giggle, your cheeks glowing with embarrassment. "And I know it sounds really weird, but it kinda turns me on thinking that someone could be watching us... like secretively... oh god now I've said it, it sounds well bad!"

You raise your hands up quickly to hide your scarlet cheeks which are glowing furiously but Van quickly pulls them away, his eyes widening in delighted surprise. "You're a proper kinky bitch you are Y/N! It's all coming out now!"

"Oh my god, I can't believe I just admitted that!" You drop your head down, laughing, embarrassed, but Van won't let you hide away, his hands cupping your cheeks, tipping your face upwards.

"No... no... don't be shy, I love it!" He grins, shaking his head, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. "You know, we still have six days left of this holiday... and who knows what mischief we could get up to." His hands curl around your hips as he manoeuvres you in the small shower cubicle until your back's pressed up against the tiles, an exaggerated thoughtfulness on his features as you can see the cogs turning in his mind. "There's the swimming pool, and those little beach huts... and the actual beach of course... I've always wanted to shag on the beach. There's those sand dunes along that stretch behind the apartments..."

You laugh, scrunching up your face as your thoughts go to an awkward fumble with an ex on a beach in Devon years ago. "You don't want to shag on the beach... trust me... the sand... it gets everywhere!"

Then you're both laughing out loud, blurting out ridiculous places, each one more daring and impractical than the last, trying to outdo each other as you wash away the heat of the night.

Did anyone catch the reference to this moment? 😂

#heat #catb imagines #van mccann #van mccann x reader #van mccann fanfic #fanfic #vanfic #smut

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