#Sweet Water Villas

[amanora]

Sweet Water Villas is a villa project in Pune by Amanora. It offers a range of custom-made luxury villas in Pune, nestled in the most picturesque location.

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[dilfsfordinner]

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

—————————————————————————

Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

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[elladreams]

Echoes of the Past // MV1

summary: An unexpected reunion with her high school bully reignites old wounds and unresolved feelings.

trigger warnings: she/her Y/N, mentions of bullying, smut (18+), dom!max, dub!con if you squint, size kink.

words: 5.4K

The warm Mediterranean sun cast a golden glow on the elegant terrace of La Villa Belle Époque, overlooking the turquoise waters of the Côte d'Azur. Y/N took a sip of a Mimosa, her eyes casually scanning the crowd of impeccably dressed guests. Her breath hitched when her gaze unexpectedly landed on a face she had desperately hoped to forget—Max fucking Verstappen.

The shock of seeing him for the first time since high school sent a jolt through her. Y/N had spent countless nights imagining this moment, rehearsing every possible scenario, crafting a mental script to prepare herself. Despite her preparations, now, standing on the brink of reality, she realized that no amount of overthinking could have braced her for the adrenaline surging through her veins. Years of therapy and thousands of Euros spent had not insulated her from the impact of his presence; she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. That’s how much control he still had over her.

She hadn’t exactly been hiding under a rock these past years. His achievements were plastered all over the news, his smug face beamed from towering billboards and shop windows. No matter how many social media accounts she blocked, the gossip, the paparazzi photos—they always found a way to haunt her feed. Somehow, she had meticulously crafted a filtered reality where he didn’t exist in any way, shape, or form. 

She had worked tirelessly to erase that part of her teenage years, especially the memories of a particularly cruel boy who had tormented her during the most awkward phase of her life. Every day, he seemed to find new ways to humiliate her—cutting remarks about her appearance, mocking her every move, and ensuring she felt small whenever he was around. It was as if he took pleasure in targeting her insecurities, knowing exactly where to strike to leave lasting scars. 

Yet, despite the cruelty, her heart betrayed her; she couldn't help but admire him from afar, drawn to the charm he effortlessly wielded over everyone but her. The worst part was the way her love for him only deepened the pain, turning every insult into a twisted reminder of the affection she would never receive from him.

With him spending most of his time training and competing in Formula 3 races, school started offering her sweet relief from his torment. So imagine her shock when he showed up at the annual summer camp—a place she had always considered her safe haven, where she hoped to blend in and finally focus on building her social life. But even there, he found her, and the teasing that haunted her school days followed her to what was supposed to be her escape. 

They were paired together during a hike that led them deep into the woods. She had been quiet the whole time, trying to keep her distance, while he alternated between mocking her and ignoring her altogether. As the sun began to set and the group started heading back to camp, they somehow got separated from the others. It was just the two of them, walking through the trees, the air thick with the sounds of nature and an awkward silence between them.

She was nervous, her heart pounding for reasons she wanted to ignore. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped and turned to her, a strange look in his eyes. Before she could ask what he was doing, he stepped closer, his usual smirk replaced by something darker, more serious. She froze as he reached out, his hand brushing her arm, and without warning, he leaned in and slammed his lips to hers. It wasn’t the kiss she had dreamed of—it was quick, almost rough, and utterly unexpected. It felt more like a challenge than a romantic moment, like he was proving something to himself or to her. The kiss left her reeling, not because it was sweet or tender, but because it was him. The boy she had secretly loved, the same boy who had made her life a nightmare, had just stolen her first kiss in the middle of the woods, with no one around to witness it.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Her lips tingled, her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. But then he pulled back, his familiar smirk returning as if the kiss had meant nothing to him, just another way to mess with her head. He didn’t say anything, just turned and continued walking back to camp as if nothing had happened, leaving her standing there, stunned and conflicted. She touched her lips, feeling a mix of emotions she couldn’t untangle—anger, confusion, and a tiny, treacherous part of her that had wanted it to mean something more. But it didn’t. To him, it was just another game, another way to keep her under his thumb. And as she followed him back to camp, the weight of that realisation crushed the small spark of hope she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying. She had planned to confront him that very next day, the very day he announced he would be leaving school and joining a Formula 1 team.

Now here she was, dressed in her Sunday best, at this pretentious brunch party with a breathtaking view of the Côte d'Azur, clutching a second Mimosa like a lifeline. She silently hoped that drinking it on an empty stomach might actually give her the liquid courage she desperately needed. But there he was, the life of the fucking party, as always. His dark blonde hair, tousled by the August morning breeze, framed a face that could have belonged to a golden age movie star than an elite Formula 1 champion. His tall, lean frame, clad in a loose linen shirt, towered over an older woman he appeared deeply engaged with in conversation. His crystal blue eyes intermittently scanned the crowd, as he took measured sips from what seemed to be some type of hard liquor on the rocks. The casual yet precise movements gave him an air of effortless control, as if he was both part of the scene and aloof from it, surveying his surroundings with a detached curiosity.

In a surge of raw panic, Y/N quickly turned on her heel, praying he hadn’t caught sight of her. There was still time to slip away, unseen, and pretend everything was fine. But she hadn't shown up just for the free drinks or the minuscule hors d’oeuvres. No, she was here because her darling mother—currently nowhere in sight—had insisted on some quality mother-daughter time, lamenting how rare it was these days. 

She downed the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on a nearby server’s tray with a silent thanks. She needed to leave—now. As she fumbled with her phone, hastily typing an excuse to send her mother, a voice calling her name stopped her cold. A low voice that haunted her nightmares while simultaneously lingering in her darkest fantasies.

“Y/N?” 

Her chance to escape had slammed shut, and all the carefully crafted scenarios she had rehearsed now seemed like distant, fleeting thoughts, slipping further and further from her grasp. Panic threatened to take hold, but she knew she couldn’t afford to unravel—not here, not now. She needed to get her shit together, swallow the rising lump in her throat, and face the situation head-on. It was time to end this—no more running, no more letting him hold power over her. She had come too far, fought too hard to let the past cripple her again. This time, she would be the one in control.

A surprising wave of calm washed over her as she turned to face him, her chin lifted just enough to meet his gaze head-on. "Max." She offered a small, composed smile, hoping it would mask the lingering adrenaline still buzzing at the tips of her fingers. "What a surprise." Her words carried a faint hint of irony, as she couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth—this wasn’t exactly the kind of surprise she had been hoping for. Still, she held her ground, determined not to let him see the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.

"I could say the same," he replied, his voice dripping with a casual arrogance that hadn't faded over the years. His gaze lingered on her, drifting from her slightly parted lips down to the silk dress that clung to her curves in a way that made his mouth dry. He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with a mixture of intrigue and something more primal. "It's been a while. What, pray tell, brings you here?"

She couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled up, partly from nerves, partly from the absurdity of the situation. Grateful for the distraction, she reached for another Mimosa from a passing tray and brought it to her lips, the cool liquid a welcome relief to her parched throat. "It certainly has been quite a while," she said, nodding more to herself than to him, her gaze drifting away as she feigned interest in the stunning view. Anything to avoid the intensity of his stare. She could feel the weight of his presence beside her, and it took every ounce of effort not to let her emotions spill over. But as much as she tried to appear unaffected, the memories of their past tangled with the present, leaving her struggling to maintain her composure.

"Well, aside from the fact that I live here," she replied, her tone crisp, "I’m meeting someone." She took another sip of her Mimosa, using the glass as a shield. "What about you? Don’t you have a crash to cause or a penalty to collect? It is Sunday, last I checked." Her words were laced with a biting sarcasm that she hoped would keep him at a distance, but beneath the surface, her annoyance was bubbling dangerously close to boiling over.

She forced herself to maintain a calm exterior, trying to disguise just how much his presence unsettled her. Every carefully chosen word, every measured breath, was an attempt to keep him from seeing the effect he still had on her. She couldn’t afford to let him know that after all these years, he could still rattle her with just a glance. So she stood there, chin up, desperately clinging to her composure, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

He seemed taken aback by her sharp retort, letting out an actual laugh that filled the air with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. "Look at her, she's finally grown a spine," he remarked, his tone laced with both amusement and a hint of respect. "It is a Sunday, but it’s also summer break, schat. Thanks for keeping tabs tho.” he said, his voice smooth and self-assured as he took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them to almost nothing. The intimate proximity left little room for anything else, certainly not for any proverbial Jesus.

"We need to have a few words, Y/N; in private," he continued, nodding subtly toward an upper deck that appeared to be secluded from the rest of the party. His eyes locked on hers, attempting to read her reaction, to gauge her willingness—or lack thereof.

Y/N felt a chill at his suggestion, despite the warm air. She eyed the upper deck warily, her mind racing with possibilities. His broad shoulders and large hands, which seemed capable of overpowering her without much effort, loomed in her mind. Though she was by no means petite, next to him, she felt alarmingly vulnerable—as if he could easily overpower her if he chose to.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, carried a blend of wariness and mock amusement. “Really, Max, if you think for a second I'm going to follow you anywhere secluded, you might be more delusional than I remembered." Her words were sharp, intended to push back against his presumption, to remind him that she wasn't the same person he used to bully.

Max's smile didn't waver, but she noticed a flicker of something else—was it annoyance?—flash through his eyes. "Come, Y/N" he insisted, his tone softening. "A few minutes, that's all I'm asking.” 

Y/N hesitated, her resolve flickering as curiosity pricked at her defences. What could he possibly have to say that couldn’t be discussed right here, surrounded by the safety of the crowd? Despite her reservations, a part of her needed to know. She nodded, whispering a quiet approval, her voice barely audible over the buzz of conversation around them.

He responded by reaching out and gently grasping her arm, his grip firm yet surprisingly tender. He guided her through the throng of partygoers, leading her up the stairs to the secluded upper deck. As he manoeuvred them through the crowd, his touch—a mixture of control and care—tugged unexpectedly at her heartstrings. It resurrected a swarm of emotions she had diligently worked to suppress, the memories of their past interactions mingling with a confusing sense of present vulnerability and an inexplicable hint of safety. The duality of her feelings, the blend of old fears and an emerging trust, left her both anxious and strangely anticipatory as they ascended to the quiet of the upper deck.

He set his drink down on a railing overlooking the Mediterranean and ran his fingers through his tousled hair, drawing a deep breath. Surprisingly, he seemed just as nervous as she was—a stark contrast to the unflappable demeanour he usually displayed. Hell, he drove at impossible speeds, there’s no way a conversation with little old her would even raise his heart beat. 

“I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would say to you if we ever met again,” she confessed. He sighed, turning to face her with an expression that was difficult to read, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and caution.

“And what did you prepare for today?” he asked, his voice steady. He downed the remaining liquor in his glass, the ice clinking sharply against the sides as he set it back with a slight thud.

A wry smile flickered across her lips. “I seem to suffer from a sudden case of amnesia,” she quipped, her tone light but her eyes serious. She placed her glass next to his, the gentle clink echoing their earlier years of discord. “It was something along the lines of: You made a good part of high school hell for me, I’ve talked about you in therapy, and you had no right to steal my first kiss...and so on.” Her voice trailed off, but her stance was firm, her words laying bare the wounds that still lingered from their past.

He seemed aware that he owed her several apologies—aware but clearly not pleased about it. Yet, the mention of that stolen kiss visibly shook him. His hands gripped the rail, knuckles whitening as if he needed the support to stand. “You never deserved the way I treated you,” he said, his voice laced with an angry edge, more at himself than at her. “That was a different person back then, someone I can't bring myself to be proud of.” 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Max paused, taking a deep breath as he continued, struggling to articulate his remorse. “I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on those days, trying to understand why I acted the way I did and how I could have been so cruel.” His gaze met hers, earnest and searching.

Max leaned closer, his voice dropping to a huskier tone, charged with a mix of regret and unresolved tension. "You know, it was always your reactions and banter that captivated me," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers, searching. "That curiosity, that fire—I found it irresistible. My father would've had a fit if he knew. He wanted me completely focused on racing, living and breathing every turn of the circuits.” She could feel his whiskey laced breath on her face as he grabbed a lock of her hair and started playing with it mindlessly.

He paused, his gaze intensifying. "So, I hid behind teasing, masked my true feelings with taunts. It was the only way I could interact with you without crossing the line I was supposed to keep. But every jibe was just a poor substitute for what I really wanted to say." He moved a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "I regret that—more than you know.” 

Each word Max spoke seemed to weave around her, slowly turning up her internal heat despite the cool, refreshing breeze off the sea. He was close enough now that she could catch the scent of his skin—a complex fragrance that mingled the fresh, salty air with the rich undertones of spiced woods and amber. The aroma enveloped her, drawing her in, stirring a mix of memories and desires. It was as if the subtle layers of his scent were designed to beckon her closer, awakening a longing she thought she had long buried. As she breathed him in, the proximity made her heart beat faster, her thoughts tangled between the past pain and a present, pulsing attraction. 

She was the one who slammed their lips together this time, champagne mixing with whiskey in a tango only they could dance. His hand traveled from the delicate edge of her hair to the back of her head, gripping a fistful and drawing her even closer. The intensity of his hold only deepened their kiss, pulling them into a moment that felt both reckless and inevitable. 

She was completely and utterly lost as he devoured her mouth with a passion that she never thought possible. He forcefully nibbled at her lips, the pressure of his tongue dancing against her own ripping gasps from her throat. His hands where everywhere and yet not where she desperately needed them as her own trembling fingers were weaving through his hair. When he came up for air he rested his forehead against her own breathing heavily. His expression was reminiscent of Cabanel’s Fallen Angel, both tormented by the impact of their own choices. 

“Tell me to stop.” He ordered as he cupped her face, his forehead never leaving her own. If someone had told her early this morning that she would soon be on the verge of dry humping her high school bully, she would have slapped said someone across the face. Yet here she was, gasping for air and shaking her head because words were just not compatible with the her level of arousal. 

“Please don’t.” were the only words that she could muster out and it was all the confirmation he needed to fully ravage her. Their mouths resumed their favorite dance as Max’s hands started travelling south cupping her breasts through her silk dress, her nipples so hard he could see them through her bra. She couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. Everything was so intense with him, he knew just how much pressure to apply to dance on the edge of pain and ecstasy.

His hands continued their journey finally reaching her heat, making her sigh with pleasure. Her dress was bunched up at her hips now, leaving her legs exposed to his hungry gaze. He traced his fingers down her thigh, slowly, deliberately, as if trying to memorize every curve. As he reached the sensitive spot behind her knee, she let out a gasp, the sensation sending shivers through her body. His touch was electrifying, awakening parts of her she didn't even know existed.

He smirked as his fingers trailed higher, inching closer to her core, never taking her eyes off of her face. She trembled in anticipation, eager for his touch. But instead, his fingers suddenly stopped, lingering just a few centimeters from her center.

His voice was husky, his breath warm against her ear. "Are you sure you want this?"

She could feel her face flush, her body aching for him. "Yes."

"Beg me."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his boldness. "What?"

He chuckled softly, his hand still resting on her inner thigh, just inches from her core. "You heard me." His gaze locked onto hers, a mix of mischief and desire. "I want you to beg me."

His words sent a jolt of arousal through her, her pulse quickening. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But despite her embarrassment, the desire burning within her was undeniable. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, before speaking again.

"Please," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "I want you, Max"

His eyes flashed with satisfaction, his lips curling into a smirk. "That's my good girl."

With that, he finally gave her what she craved, his fingers sliding over her underwear. She moaned as he stroked her, her body responding eagerly to his touch. His other hand moved to her breast, squeezing it through her dress, and she arched into his palm, desperate for more contact. Without a warning he grabbed her drenched panties, sliding them down her legs. She could have sworn she saw him shove them in his back pocket but with all the dopamine and anticipation, she was simply an unreliable narrator.

Max gathered her in his arms leading them to an alcove where a table sat, patiently waiting for them. She could feel the cool marble on her thighs as he lifted her to sit, spreading her legs and kneeling before her. There was something so primal about the sight of him, her high school tormentor, on his knees before her.

Her legs parted and he took a moment to appreciate the view, making her squirm under his ravenous gaze. She was already so wet and he slid his finger inside her, groaning in satisfaction at the feel of her incredibly tight walls around him. She bit back a whimper, her body aching for more. He added another finger trying to prepare her for him, curling them just right and eliciting a string of whimpers and moans from her.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice husky with lust. She needed more, her hips bucking against his hand. She could feel her orgasm building, her breath coming in short gasps. But just as she was about to fall over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her aching and unsatisfied.

He looked up at her with a devilish grin, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."

Her breath caught in her throat as he spread her legs wider, his mouth moving to her entrance. She let out a gasp as his tongue flicked across her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. His fingers joined his mouth, teasing her, exploring her. She was completely at his mercy, her body writhing with pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he was mercilessly lapping at her, drinking her nectar like the sweetest ambrosia.

The sensations were overwhelming, her body overwhelmed with pleasure. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, her orgasm imminent. And just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he curled his fingers inside her, hitting the perfect spot, and she came undone.

"Max!" she cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure. He worked her through her orgasm, his tongue and fingers bringing her to new heights of ecstasy. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, the aftershocks rippling through her body, leaving her spent and trembling as tears of pleasure started streaming from her eyes.

He stood, his erection prominent against his pants. He pulled her to him, his mouth crashing down on hers. She could taste herself on his lips, a hint of sweetness mixed with his own unique flavour. It was intoxicating, and she melted into his embrace, her body still tingling from her climax. He took a second to lick her salty tears, as if the very taste of them was an aphrodisiac. She couldn't believe what had just happened, her mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience. But as she gazed up at him, his eyes dark with desire, she knew there was no turning back.

He was everywhere, surrounding her, his presence overwhelming her senses. She could feel the hard planes of his body against hers, the heat of his skin burning through the thin fabric of her dress. She clung to him, her hands exploring his back, his muscles taut beneath her touch.

As the initial rush of pleasure began to subside, Y/N realized the gravity of what they had done. This wasn't some random hook-up—this was Max, the boy who had once made her life hell. The man she was supposed to hate. The man who, despite everything, she had never been able to fully get over.

She could feel the walls she had carefully built up over the years starting to crumble, the floodgates opening and unleashing a torrent of emotions she had worked so hard to keep at bay. She tried to push him away, to regain some semblance of control, but his grip on her was too strong.

"Let me go," she protested, her voice shaky and uneven.

"Not a chance," he growled, his lips trailing along the side of her neck, his stubble rough against her skin.

"You don't get to walk away this time."

He lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She could feel his erection pressing against her core, his hands gripping her thighs. He carried her to the nearest wall, her back taking the brunt of the impact. His mouth was on hers again, his kiss rough and demanding, stealing the air from her lungs. She was drowning in him, the feel of his body pressed against hers, the taste of him on her lips. It was intoxicating, addicting, and she knew she was lost.

"This is wrong," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"So fucking right," he countered, his mouth claiming hers once more.

She could feel his hard clothed erection rubbing against her bare cunt, she was probably dripping all over his pants. It was the hottest thing she had ever experienced. He ground his hips into her, his covered length sliding between her folds. The friction was incredible, and she let out a soft moan, her body responding to his touch.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I've wanted this for so long, dreamed of it."

His words sent a thrill through her, a rush of adrenaline mingling with the pleasure coursing through her veins. He freed himself from his pants, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her. In truth, she had limited sexual experience, but nothing could have prepared her for his size. She had to remind herself to breathe as he positioned himself at her entrance, his tip sliding between her folds, teasing her.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping her thighs so hard they would certainly leave marks. He probably read her fear in the expression, "I'll take you slow in the beginning" he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He pushed inside her, his girth stretching her, filling her. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and she buried her face in his neck, her fingers digging into his back. The stretch was unlike anything she's ever felt before, but the pleasure was equally intense. Her body began to relax, the pain starting to give way to pure intense ecstasy.

With another push he was fully seated inside her. He paused, letting her fully adjust to his size. "Breathe through it." he instructed as he stroked the back of her head.

She followed his command, inhaling deeply, and the sharp burn began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fullness. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, the pleasure almost too intense to handle.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice strained. "So perfect."

"I can't," she whimpered, her body trembling, on the edge of collapse.

"Yes, you can," he growled, his grip on her thighs tightening. "You were made for me."

He began to move, at first his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He raised her head from the crook of his neck to gaze into her eyes, finding a slow rhythm, their bodies moving in sync, their breathing ragged and heavy.

Her body responded to his, hips rocking against his, her nails digging into his back. She was lost in the moment, the sensations overwhelming her, her body consumed by the pleasure of his touch.

As their pace increased, her thoughts began to melt away, her body giving in to the pure instinctual urge. His thrusts became harder, more urgent, and her climax was building, the pleasure mounting with each stroke.

She was so close, the pressure coiling deep inside her. But before she could reach her peak, he suddenly stopped, his breath ragged, his expression almost pained.

"Why?" she gasped, her body aching for release.

"Not yet," he replied, his voice strained. "I want to make this last."

He lowered her to the floor, his length sliding out of her, the loss of contact leaving her feeling empty and unsatisfied. Before she could protest, he turned her around, her palms resting on the marble table as he bent her over.

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust into her from behind, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper.

"Fuck Max, you're going to break me." she whimpered, her voice shaking with pleasure.

"Oh, I intend to," he growled, his pace increasing, each stroke sending waves of ecstasy through her.

She could feel her orgasm building, the pleasure rising with every thrust. She was on the edge, her body teetering on the verge of release. He reached around and his fingers found her clit, stroking her, the added stimulation sending her over the edge. She cried out, her body tensing as her orgasm tore through her, the pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

He wasn't far behind, his hips slamming into hers as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into her skin, his movements frantic, the sounds of their bodies coming together mingling with their ragged breaths. "Where do you want me?" he grunted, his voice strained, the effort to maintain his composure clear.

"Inside me, please" she gasped, her body still trembling from her orgasm.

He thrust deep, burying himself in her, and she could feel him pulse inside her as he came, his release mingling with hers. He collapsed against her, his chest pressed against her back, his weight a welcome comfort. They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, the euphoria of their climax lingering.

Eventually, he pulled out of her, his grip on her hips easing, his fingertips grazing her skin as if he was reluctant to let her go. Reality once again came crashing down. She was a mess, her dress bunched up at her hips, her legs still quivering, the evidence of their pleasure trickling down her thighs.

She turned to face him, the afterglow of their coupling slowly fading. Her mother was probably downstairs looking for her, there was no way she could meet her in her current state. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, the intensity of his blue eyes too much to handle.

"I need to leave," she said, her voice quiet as she tried to tame her hair with her fingers.

He reached out and cupped her face, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.

"Let me take you home," he said, his voice soft. "I know another way out. You don't have to face anyone right now."

Her mind raced with a thousand questions, but before she could speak, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Trust me, Y/N."

And against all reason, she did.

[gutsby]

Finders Keepers

Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader

Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.

A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.

Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.

Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.

“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”

You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.

The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.

You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.

When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.

No fucking way.

You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.

It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.

You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.

Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.

Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.

You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.

“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”

You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.

Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.

“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”

With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.

Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.

To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.

The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.

“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.

You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.

“Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.

“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.

What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.

To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.

Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.

“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.

You actually wanted to die. In a good way.

You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.

“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.

“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.

You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.

At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.

You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.

“W-what? What’s awful?”

Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.

“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”

He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.

His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.

“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”

Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.

“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”

You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.

Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.

Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.

His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.

“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.

“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.

“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.

“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”

His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.

“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.

“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.

In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.

It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.

But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.

“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”

“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.

You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.

When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.

“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”

He looked cocky and self-assured—the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.

It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.

In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.

Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.

That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.

“So…when can I have this back?”

[writteninkat]

HEADCANON: MHA MEN SPOILING YOU

w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Hawks, Endeavor

warnings: none just mha men being rich<3

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

"Hey, where are you?" You hear you husband's rough voice spill through the speakers of your phone, your eyelids shaking at the eyelash extensions being pressed down and glued on your water line.

"Getting my lashes done."

"Anything else planned?" He asks, making you purse your lips in thought.

"My whole day's packed, actually. I already went to my facial appointment. I'm getting my nails and hair done after this. Maybe a little shopping if I have the energy. Oh! I'll probably get a massage too!" You rant, smiling as you imagine the perfect selfcare day.

"Alright. You think you'll have enough energy for dinner after all that?" You giggle and hum, "Uhuh! I always have energy for you baby."

"That's good to hear. Have fun today baby, I love you."

"I love you more."

You hear three beeps and you hear your lashtech giggle.

"Hero Dynamight is portrayed as this scary, rough guy in the media, but he's actually very sweet." She swoons, making your chest swell with pride.

"He is, actually. One time-"

You're cut off by your phone buzzing, followed by your lashtech gasping. Unable to open your eyes, you stretch your arms out. "What? What happened?!"

"Hero Dynamight he..." She gasps.

"He what?!" You yell, your chest caving in as every horrible thought crosses your mind.

Did he get injured during a fight?

How badly is he injured?

Is he...?

"Dammit, Ari! Tell me what's happening!" You demand, about to sit up from the bed.

"He just sent you two million yen..." She breathes out, making you release a sigh.

"Fucking Christ. I thought something happened." You whisper, relaxing back onto the bed. "Did he say why?"

"'Refunding you for you facial appointment. The rest are for your other plans. Call if you need more. I love you baby.'" She read aloud, causing a smile to stretch across your face.

"He's the sweetest." You swoon.

EIJIROU KIRISHIMA

You look around the villa, eyes sparkling and head over the moon at how beautiful it is. The Spanish colonial architecture is beautiful, the ceilings high, the wood floors shiny and waxed, and the arched windows big enough for you to show a tree from the tops of its leaves down to its roots burrowed down the soil.

"It's so pretty, baby!" You giggle, twirling around the foyer of the villa you'll be spending your two weeks in.

Finally, Eijirou was able to grab a two-week break from hero work. The two of you have been busting your asses off, protecting cities and taking down villains.

This time, you made sure your schedules synced when it came to time to making time for each other.

"You like it?" He asks, hugging you from behind.

You turn your head to the side, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I love it, baby. This'll be the best vacation ever. Just the two of us. Happy and in love." You smile, giggling at his cheeks slowly turning into a crimson colour.

And just as you said, your two-week vacation was a bliss. The both of you drank and ate, made love, swam in the private pool, in the private beach, cuddled during movies, played video games, board games, explored the small town near the villa- everything was perfect.

As you sit on your spot in the hero's private plane, a white folder on the table catches your eye. With curiousity tickling your fingers, you open it, your gaze immediately falling to your husband's familiar signature. Your brows knit as you bring your eyes back up to the top of the document, reading it.

This letter of Intention to Offer is made and effectively by...

Property Address...

Purchaser Address...

Purchaser Contact...

Dear Mr. Kirishima Eijirou...

Please accept this bid purchase to...

For the amount of...

"Eight million euros?!" You scream, clutching on the document.

Eijirou rushes out of the private bedroom inside the jet, his eyes wide with worry as he inspects you. "What's wrong?!" He worries.

"Why the hell did you buy the villa?!" You scream, now your eyes are wide with worry.

"You said you loved it." He shrugs.

Your head pulses with the need to close your eyes. You can feel your blood pressure rising at this stupid, idiotic, irresponsible...sweet, lovely, man.

"Where the hell are you getting eight million euros?" You sigh, finally looking up at the man who foolishly spoils you rotten.

"The same place I was getting eighty million yen for the yacht you wanted..." He looks at you like you're stupid.

"Why the hell did you buy a yacht on top of a villa, Eijirou?"

"You said you wanted the boat!" He exclaims, forcing you to rack your brain for the memory of when you said that.

"I said it was pretty! Not that I wanted it!" You exclaim, your face scrunching up in stress. "Where on earth are you getting your money!"

The red head simply smiles, engulfing you with his strong arms in a warm, tight embrace. "I'm one of the top heros in the world, baby. And I've been in this game for decades now. It's safe to say I've got more money than we both can possibly need." He reasons, his lips pressing against the top of your head.

"Plus, property investments are good!" You roll your eyes at the stupidly sweet man you call your husband, your heart searing as your gaze catches onto another document with the words 'Land Ownership' and your name printed not far from it.

SHOTO TODOROKI

An evil grin stretches across your face as you point at every pretty thing your eyes fall on. You don't break your stride as you enter and exit shops in under a minute.

"That." You point at an adorable bag inside a shelf. "That, too." You point at the one beside it.

"These shoes in my size. These too. Ooo! And these as well." You hand the shoes over to your assistant, letting her pass them over to the store clerk.

You exit the shop, leaving one body guard behind as you enter the store beside it. This one's a gadget store.

"You think it's time to upgrade my devices?" You ask, playing with the showcased device on the table. You turn to your side, eyeing your husband's assistant, seeing tears comically strem down his cheeks.

"Please, madam! You've spent so much already!" He cries, "What on earth did Mr. Todoroki's money ever do to you?"

"It's not his money, it's him in general. He hasn't been spending time with me as of late. I'm getting bored." You pout, nodding at a store clerk before point at different gadgets, one of each kind.

"All those, if you have them in pink, but if not, I'll get them in black. The biggest memory you have, please. Along with accesories. Pink." You order before leaving the store once more, entering another booth selling watches in insane prices.

"Madam, Mr. Todoroki is a pro hero-"

"And I'm not?" You glare at the employee. "I work as much hours as he does. I'm just as demanded, I'm just as busy, and I'm just as tired as he is. And yet, I can always make time for him back at home."

You know you're being a bit too unreasonable. But you've grown bored and lonely. And you'd rather die than take another lover. So Shoto's bank account it is.

"He'd have a heart attack if he saw all the withdrawals." The assistant worries as you ponder over two watches displayed in front of you.

"If my husband suffers from cardiac problems due to my spending, then he shouldn't have taken being a pro hero as a job." You point at the silver and blue Patek Philippe. "This one please." You tell the sales woman who smiles at you as she nods softly.

You check your own watch to see you've been at it for hours now. Almost time for dinner.

Maybe I should pay my busy husband a visit.

You roll your eyes.

You stretch your arms up above you, letting out a yawn as your muscles finally relax.

Your last stop is a five star restaurant right beside the mall.

Shoto scribbles on a few papers, hating how he's been leaving his wife alone for multiple nights. Knowing her, she'll have his ass if this goes on for too long.

He sighs, stretching his up above him, feeling his back crack. His head pulses and the need to see his wife waves over him in strong currents.

Right as he's about to resume his paper work, his phone buzzes in a call, his financial advisor's name flashing the screen.

Shoto answers the call with one hand, the other elegantly scribbling on the paper. "What is it?"

"Sir, I think your card's been stolen. There have been numerous deductions, all huge amounts." Shoto furrows his brows, taking his wallet out from his pocket. Sure enough, his black Master is missing.

A tickling feeling grows in his gut. "From which shops?"

He hears a few clicks from the other line, "These are all luxury brands. Miu Miu? Coach? LV, Prada, Bottega Veneta, Chanel, Dior, Philippe Patek- The thief may be a woman, sir."

"You're right. A woman. My woman." Shoto sighs, chuckling softly. "How much did my wife spend?"

"A little over two hundred million yen." Shoto can hear the wince in his advisor's tone, making him grin.

Sure, his wife's a kickass pro hero, and she makes just as much money as he does. But nothing compares to her spending ability with the cute little side talent of not touching her own bank account.

Just as he's about to give out an order, said wife enters his office without knocking, a familiar paper bag in her hands.

"Brought you dinner from that favorite restaurant of yours." She lifts the bag, striding over to him.

"She seems to have been having a little tantrum because I haven't been giving her the attention she deserves." He smirks at her, "Run it through."

"You talk shit about me to your employees?" The love of his life pouts as he chuckles deeply, standing from his seat. He places his hands on his wife's hips, softly pulling her towards him, giving her lips a gentle peck.

"Never. I was just explaining to them why I lost millions of yen in a day." His joke earns him a playful glare from his wife.

KEIGO TAKAMI

You complained to Keigo once. Once. That you were tired.

It was six am that morning when you woke up like you hadn't slept at all. You didn't have muscle sores or a headache nor were you sick. You were simply tired.

By nine am, the pro hero had written you a sick leave, carried you onto his private jet, and the both of you were now flying over beautiful blue waters.

"Keigo-" He cuts you off by shushing you, lifting a finger up in the air. He pulls you towards the private room located at the back of the jet where a massage table has been set up, along with ambient spa music and a masseus in the corner with her hands clasped together and her head bowed down. The room smelled of peppermint and lavender.

"We'll land in twelve hours. You can request anything else after the massage." You don't get a chance to respond because he leaves the room, closing the door gently.

You and the masseus look at each other before she lets out an amused chuckle. "He seems to spoil you so."

You sigh, "He overdoes it, but I know he means well."

Eleven hours later, you've gotten a mani pedi, a simple and refreshing facial, your muscles are relaxed, you've eaten two square meals, and had the longest nap of your life.

Now you're seated in front of your husband, sipping your champagne in your soft, fluffy robe as he reads his magazine.

"Keigo, will you finally tell me where you're taking me?" You sigh, watching him look at you through his golden eye lashes. He smirks, setting his magazine down as he pulls the window cover up.

You squint at the sudden brightness but your eyes quickly adjust. You blink a few times, moving towards the window, taking a peek.

"You took me to Greece?!" You exclaim, seeing the familiar white walls and blue roofs.

"My baby said she was tired." He mused, "And we can't have that."

You open your mouth in protest, but a sound cuts before you. "Mr. and Mrs. Takami, we'll be landing shortly. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts, thank you."

You glare at your husband one last time before buckling up, letting out an annoyed huff as you keep your eyes on the window.

"Jesus..." You breath out, craning your head up to look at the domed ceiling. Your gaze drags down, moving from side to side as you inspect the large arched windows and marbled floors.

Keigo weaps his arms from behind you, breathing in your scent. "You know you didn't have to fly me anywhere. That spa day was exactly what I needed. I could've gotten it back in Japan."

"Yeah," Keigo squints, softly pushing you towards the glass double doors leading to the balcony. "But you wouldn't have been able to enjoy this view afterwards."

The scene of the vast blue ocean with the sun slowly dipping down is breath taking. Accompanied by the soft glow of yellowish lights, the chirping of a few birds here and there, and the smell of the ocean has you claiming this place to be paradise.

"I love it..." I mumbled, captivated by the beauty of the sunset.

"More than me?"

You turn your head to the side, pressing your lips softly on your husband's cheek. "No, never more than you, my love."

Keigo smiles, pressing a soft peck on your lips before slowly letting his arms fall, his hand delicately holding your hand.

"Come with me." He tugs you back inside, leading you up the grand marble staircase and inside what looks like the master bedroom.

"Close your eyes." He whispers in your ear and you immediately follow his order. Slowly leading you somewhere, you hear a soft click of a door. "Open."

You blink once, twice, before your jaw drops to the floor. You're right outside a huge walk in closet, and inside is one of the biggest boquet of elden roses formed into a heart. Surrounding it are paper bags with different kinds of designer brands printed on them. Behind the boquet is a round marble table with different boxes of leather, some kept closed and some open, revealing shiny watches and jewelry, ranging from silver, gold, and white gold.

"Keigo..." You breathe out, taking a careful step inside before turning around to face your husband. Your eyes feel like they're about to bulge out of their sockets and your haw about to fall off.

"Not now." You shakes his head, quickly stopping you as if he knows what you're about to do. "Pick an outfit and we'll leave in an hour." He presses a light kiss on your forehead before leaving you alone with your gifts.

Feeling as though you've been spoiled rotten, you take your time going through your numerous gifts, deciding to wear every dress you come across, but quickly change your mind when you find another one.

Your husband may be a pro hero, but his true talent is picking out beautiful dresses for you.

You decide on a wine red silk dress, revealing your back, pairing it with strappy silver heels, a diamond encrusted choker, and diamond earings that hang right below your chin. You make up is a simple smokey eye with a bold dark red lip. Your hair curled and pinned up into a bun, the front swept to the side.

You step out of the room and onto the top of the staircase, looking down to see Keigo already in a suit and waiting. He looks up, eyes sparkling when they settle on you. Your heart bursts of affection- he always does this. Whether you dress to the highs or like a beggar, he looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

Feeling your cheeks flush, you slowly climb down the steps, your husband meeting you at the bottom. He drinks you up slowly, his chest rising before shakily lowering back.

"Beautiful..." He whispers, soft fingers caressing your cheek.

"Thank you." You kiss his open palm, leaving a lipstick stain. "What are we having for dinner?"

Keigo's eyes are stuck on you lipstick stain and you watch his throat swallow. "May I have you instead?" He asks, his eyes filled with heat, making you chuckle.

"No, you may not, because I'm hungry for some real food." You cup his cheek for a moment before stepping to the side, making your way to the waiting car in the driveway.

He takes you to a restaurant that serves an array of european dishes. Not long after, you have a food baby and are tipsy on what you claim to be the best wine you've ever drank.

By the time you finish, you decide to take a little walk around the small town. His suit jacket hangs on your shoulders with your clasped together.

You try to hold it in, but the searing pain from your feet makes you hiss and wobble. Keigo immediately catches you, "What's wrong?"

You sigh, looking up at him with a pout. "My feet hurt. Heels are too high."

Keigo smirks before getting down on one knee.

"We're already married." Your reminder earns you a hearty laugh from him.

"I'm trying to undo your shoes, dummy."

"Oh."

He swiftly undoes the clasps of your heels, taking the pair. Before you take another step forward, he scoops you in his arms, your immediately wrapping themselves around his neck.

"Keigo?"

"Hold on tight, love." He whispers.

You get a second to process what he means by that before his wings stretch out, pushing the both of you off the ground.

"Keigo!" You scream, tightly clutching onto him as he laughs loudly.

"Shouldn't you be used to this by now?" He yells through the air.

"I'm full and I'm drunk! You're gonna make me throw up!" You yell.

He simply laughs, his arms holding you possessively onto his chest. "Not yet, my love."

You look up at him questioningly before finding the courage to look down, enraptured by the beauty of the city below you. Before you know it, you catch a glimpse of the shoreline before dark blue waters meet your gaze.

"If you drown me, you'll be the worst husband ever." You frown, receiving a snicker from Keigo.

"Don't worry, love. We're almost there." At his words, you look infront of you, noting how the angry waters eventually grow calm until finally, they're as still as mirrors. Scratch that, they're exactly like mirrors.

The stars twinkle and shine brightly above you, as well as below you. It's as if you're in outer space. The sight around you is exquisit, bewitching, alluring, captivating—it's divine. You see millions upon million of stars all around you. Tears fill the corners of your eyes at the tantalizing scene.

Keigo looks at you and you feel him slowly lower you, right above the water. "Lower your feet for me." His request has you immediately dropping your feet.

He hovers the both of you just above the water, only your tippy toes grazes the top of the water, creating a circular ripple effect, making the stars in its reflection dance.

"Beautiful..." You gasp, charmed by the sight.

"Not as much as you." Keigo mutters, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Love?" You call out.

He hums in response, the silence relaxing.

"How much did you spend just today?"

You feel your husband freeze at your question. It's incredible how Keigo's spending problem only occurs when you're involved.

"You want me to sugarcoat it or-"

"Give it to me straight."

"A little over a hundred yen..."

You look up at him, unamused. "Keep lying."

"A hundred... Thousand?" He offers, averting his gaze.

"You take me for an idiot?"

Keigo sighs, burying his nose on the top of your head. "Million."

You huff out an irritated breath before melting back onto your husband. He's lavish when it comes to you, but it's one of the few ways he likes to show you off.

ENJI TODOROKI

Your heart pitter-patters on your chest as you squeeze your gold clutch tightly. You're nervous- and it's justifiable. You've had the fattest crush on your boss ever since you were hired as his secretary, and when he was invited to an auction with the choice to invite a plus one, he chose you. Warranted, you are his secretary, so he may need some assistance.

Stop being delusional. This is your job. Be professional.

But your flaming cheeks aren't listening to your brain. Your dress feels too tight, and your skin feels like it's been lit on fire but the cold breeze of the night cools it down.

I'm gonna end up sick.

Just as you're calming yourself down, you see a black sedan stop right in front of your lawn. You quickly make your way towards the car, opening the door only to be greeted by a strong scent of expensive perfume with a hint of musk. Your eyes immediately fall onto the one man you can't have.

He's tapping away at his phone and you can't stop the wave of disappointment engulfing you. You wanted to see his reaction to the dress you picked out.

Stop it, he has a family for Christ's sake!

You silently hop on. As soon as you close your door, the car speeds off.

"This auction is also a masquerade." He mentions, pushing a black eye mask towards you. Despite being black, it sparkles under low light.

Black glitters.

Did he find out the kind of dress you were gonna wear? The masks suits it perfectly.

As you inspect the mask, you steal a glance at him to see he's still on his phone. Rejection clenches at the stupid muscle in your chest, but you try your hardest to ignore it. You put on your mask, softly tying the black ribbon at the back of your head to keep it on.

A few minutes of silent torture passes by until bright lights finally engulf the car. "We're here, sir." The driver announces.

Endeavor taps away at his phone for a few more moments before pocketing it, letting out a tired sigh. Both passenger doors are opened and a young man in a simple black and white suit offers you his hand. As soon as you're about to take it, a bigger, much rougher hand pushes it away.

"I'll help my date down myself. Thanks." Endeavor's voice is rough and deep, but that isn't what makes you gawk at him.

"Date?" You repeat his word, making him look at you. The blue eyes under his red mask brighten when his gaze finally drops on you.

He looks at you from your mask down to your toes, and back up. He does so slowly, that even after you've placed your hand on his, he doesn't budge. Doesn't make a peep. The only thing moving is his eyes drinking you in slowly. And the movement of his throat as he swallows.

Welcome to another episode of: I'm not delusional! I swear my boss thinks I'm hot aswell!

Finally, Endeavor clears his throat. He steps to the side, allowing you to hop off the car. The cameras' flashes increase when the paparazzi notice that Pro Hero Endeavor has brought a date.

"Endeavor! Who's your date??"

"Is she someone special?"

"Is your date being paid?"

The both of you walk through the red carpet as questions are being yelled at.

"Your family back home will see you've brought a date! How do you think they'll feel?"

Your head snaps at the direction of the voice, your eyes scanning the crowd for a moment before they finally settle on a bald guy. You slip your hand from Endeavor's, striding towards the nosy fuck before quickly grabbing the lense of his camera. Your crush it in one easy squeeze, silence falling among everybody else.

"You're here to take pictures. You already know you aren't getting answers from us, so why set yourselves up for failure?" You glare across the crowd of people, making sure your words aren't directed towards baldy alone. "Snap your pictures, send them to your employers, and shut the fuck up."

Your eyes return to baldy once more, noting the sheer sweat forming all over his head. "Send the bill over to Endeavor's secretary, she'll take care of it." You tell him before flicking the bits of camera you have on your hand.

Returning to Endeavor, you hook your arm on his, and continue walking, waving and smiling for the cameras as if you aren't anxious about what you just did.

Did I do good?

Is he upset I did that?

He hasn't said anything.

Fuck, I won't have a job tomorrow. Great job, self! You've just lost an incredibly high-paying job that allows you to be close with the love of your life.

The big double doors open, revealing a dimly lit opera house. A lot of people are already inside, all of them in full glamour.

"You didn't have to do that." Endeavor finally speaks up, making you swallow nervously.

"Yeah well, I didn't like how he asked that question. As if you're doing something wrong..." Your voice is soft and unsure as you keep your gaze on the carpeted floor. You've settled on allowing your boss to lead you towards your seats.

"Don't you think what I'm doing is wrong?"

His wuestion has you snapping your neck at him, your eyes wide with worry. Does he think that?

"You're divorced, aren't you? And- and they don't know who I am. I don't think this is bad publicity at all." You defend, watching as he side eyes you.

"Anything with me is bad publicity." He mumbles, warm irritation bubbling in your chest as you clench your fist closed.

"Stop that." You demand, finally arriving at your seats.

"Stop what?" His questions goes unanswered for a few moments as you take in the private booth at the top floor. It's only the two of you here, with a button in the middle. Probably for when the client wants to bid.

"Stop putting yourself down. Yes, you've made mistakes. Big ones. Huge ones. But it isn't late for you to change and make up for it all." You look up at him with wide, genuine eyes. "You already admitted your mistakes. All that's left now is to try your damnest to make up for it, to make it up to all the people you've wronged. But you gotta do it with a genuine heart and pure intentions."

Endeavor looks at you with wide eyes, his blue orbs like the color of the sea during the peak of summer. You hold his gaze for a second,

two seconds

three-

The lights dim, grabbing you attention to the stage below.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

The first few items were boring, so you don't blame Endeavor for not making a bid. A few paintings and tables presented here and there, maybe a couple properties. You feel your eyelids growing heavy until a necklace is presented under the spotlight.

The blue saphire stones completely surround the neckline, and a big red ruby stands out dead center. It looks heavy and too extravagant to wear anywhere you'd go. But it reminds you of your big, quiet boss.

"It's beautiful." You gasp, unable to look away from the piece.

"Up next, we have an exquisite piece that will undoubtedly ignite a bidding war: a mesmerizing blue sapphire rose, intricately crafted with petals that glisten like the ocean depths. At the heart of this stunning bloom rests a fiery red ruby pendant, its vibrant hue creating a captivating contrast. This one-of-a-kind piece combines the tranquility of sapphire with the passionate allure of ruby, set in the finest platinum. A true masterpiece of luxury and elegance, perfect for any discerning collector." The host's voice echoes throught the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, who will start the bidding for this unparalleled gem at eight million yen?" Immediately, you hear buttons being pressed, with the host yelling out numerous numbers.

"Eight million yen to bidder number twenty-seven!"

"Ten million yen to bidder number forty!"

"Eleven million yen to bidder number thirty-five!"

The price goes higher and higher, making you dizzy. You snap out of your lightheaded state when you see your boss press his button.

"Fifty million yen." He mutters to the microphone, making your heart drop.

Who's he giving that to?

Is there a woman in his life I don't know about?

Maybe it's an apology gift to his wife.

No, he wouldn't be that cheap about it.

"Fifty million yen to bidder number fourteen! Does anybody wish to go higher?" The room is dead silent. "Fifty million going once," Still, nobody makes a peep. "Fifty million going twice." Nada. "Sold! To bidder number fourteen at fifty million yen!"

"I can't believe you just did that." You breathe out, in the brink of a panic at the thought of losing fifty mil in a night.

Endeavor keeps his eyes up front, making you mirror his actions. You feel squirmish in your seat.

The next few items are as boring as the first ones, until your eyes catch a red fur coat on a mannequin. It's as red as Endeavor's hair, and it looks softer than the softest fur in the world.

"Prepare yourselves, esteemed bidders, for a truly unparalleled offering: a one-of-a-kind crimson fur coat. This extraordinary garment exudes opulence and sophistication, crafted from the finest fur of the Crimson Frost Lynx, a legendary creature said to roam the forests of the North." Your brows furrow at the statement.

Aren't those Lynxes extinct?

"Its rich, deep crimson hue is unlike anything you’ve seen, making a bold and timeless statement. Lined with luxurious silk, this coat is not just a piece of clothing but a work of art. Perfect for the most discerning fashion aficionado, it promises to turn heads and capture hearts. Let's open the bidding for this exclusive masterpiece at twelve million yen. Who will claim this ultimate symbol of luxury?" As the announcer ends, only a few buttons are pressed this time.

"Twelve million yen to bidder number thirty-eight! Does anybody wish to go higher?"

"Fifteen million yen to bidder number twenty!"

Once again, Endeavor presses his button, mumbling "Twenty million."

"Twenty million yen to bidder number fourteen!" As the house quiets, the announcer scans the crowd. "Twenty million yen going once' Twenty million yen going twice!"

A soft buzz sounds, your head snapping to its direction. It came from the booth right beside you.

"Twenty five million yen to bidder number fifteen!"

Endeavor presses his button once more, mumbling a headache-inducing "Thirty million."

"Thirty million yen to bidder number fourteen! Thirty million going once! Thirty million going twice! Sold! To bidder number fourteen!" The confusion is written across your face as you turn to your boss.

"A necklace, and now a furcoat? Sir if you wanna crossdress-"

He holds a finger up, effectively silencing you. You bite on your lower lip, huffing when you hear a knock to your right. The both of you turn to the sound.

"Who are those gifts for, Endeavor? Got a new lady friend?"

Hawks.

"Mind your own business." Endeavor grits out before returning his gaze to the stage.

You can't help but feel anxious about the other Hero's question.

Who are the gifts for?

Whenever her eyes twinkle, I can't help but press the button. It's like a magnet and my finger's made of metal. My eyes have been shifting to her everytime a new item is shown, and everytime I get a reaction of awe, my button is immediately pressed.

My secretary should be off-limits. If I were to ever make a move on her, it'd be as obvious as the sun and the backlash would be unforgiving. But my want for her seems to outweigh reason.

Fuck tha backlash. This woman is meant for me.

I can see it in the way she sees me.

When the auction ends, I offer my hand to her once again and we make our way to different offices meant for different bidders. Privacy is their utmost importance here, so I don't have to worry about other people looking at my woman.

"Good evening, Mr. Todoroki. This is your billing for tonight." The man hands a sheet of paper to Endeavor and you take a peek at it.

Two necklaces, a bracelet, a ring, a set of earrings, two more fur coats, a vase, and three porcelein statues of cats.

"Five-" Your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets. "Five hundred million yen?! Sir, please excuse me, but you do not shit out money." You chastise, your brows knitting in worry.

"Stop yelling, I'm right beside you." Your boss huffs, pulling out a check. He scribbles the amount on it before his signature, sliding it towards the man behind the counter.

"Let's go, I'm tired." Endeavor turns around, walking towards the door. You run after him, struggling in your heels but eventually reach him.

"Oh! Mr. Todoroki! Shall we deliver the goods to your office or your home?" The man calls out.

Your boss stops in his tracks, craning his head to you.

"My assistant will write down her address for you. Deliver it there."

Your jaw falls, it's like your brain has disconnected from your body. "What? No! Just get it delivered to whoever you were gifting them to!"

Endeavor raises a brow, tilting his head to the side. "That's exactly what I'm doing." He says it as if you were an idiot.

"You- I'm sorry?"

"Apology accepted. Make sure you wear that necklace tomorrow night." He pushes the door open, walking down the marbled floors of the foyer.

"What's happening tomorrow night?" You ask, out of breath as you continue to struggle in your heels.

"We're going on a date."

And your heart does a backflip, lifting a middle finger up to the world. Fuck you all! I told you I wasn't delusional!

[click here to read endeavor having his way with you in the private booth]

[uluvjay]

Beach Getaway- O. Piastri

Oscar Piastri x fem reader!

In which your boyfriend can’t take your little bikinis and constant teasing much longer

Warnings?; SMUT, some sub! Oscar, dom!reader, kissing, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), unprotected sex(use protection), cursing, teasing, bratty Oscar, praising, pet names, porn with a plot

Sorry for any errors, also part of my 1k celly:)

The Australian boy wasn’t sure how much longer he could take you parading around in your little bikini. The two of you were staying in a private Villa far from anyone and any land, only accessible by boat.

After your Grease vacation last year and getting paparazzi pictures taken non stop you’d chose somewhere far off from any people, and while Oscar was enjoying the privacy he wasn’t expecting you to constantly wear the littlest bit of clothing possible.

If you two didn’t have plans to go into town you’d been either wearing Oscar’s shirt or one of your bikinis and today it just so happened to be that tiny white one.

He was in the water below your villa while you were laid out on one of the chairs tanning, your body was glistening in the sun thanks to your tanning oil and from your position on your stomach Oscar had a perfect view of your plump ass.

“Oscar” you groaned when you felt the sun that had been shining on your body disappear and cool droplets of water hit your back.

His beamed down at you as you flipped over to lay on your back, “hi baby” he smiled as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss upon your lips.

“Wanna lay with me?” You questioned as you noticed the small look of need in his eyes.

“Yes please” he blushed.

You moved up a bit to make room for the tall boy to lay between your legs with his head resting on your boobs. It was sweet and relaxing for a while, your hands running through his hair and nails lightly running along the skin of his back. It was innocent until you felt light kisses against the top of your left breast.

“Oscar” you warned lightly.

“M’ not doing anything, just giving you kisses” he whined into your skin, you gave his hair a small tug to notify him to drop the attitude, and he did.

His lips stayed still for a good bit longer until you heard a small whine escape his throat and his lips start a trail of kisses on your chest.

“Oscar what did I say? Don’t be a brat” you warned the boy again.

“But baby I can’t take it anymore! We’ve been here a week and I’ve been good. I haven’t tried to fuck you no matter how bad I’ve wanted to” he cried out sitting up on his knees to look at you.

“You’ve been a good boy Osc, don’t start being a brat now” you scolded, you knew what you’d been doing to the poor boy but what he didn’t know was the surprise you had organized for tomorrow night where you’d finally let him take the lead and be on top.

He didn’t reply just got up with a groan and jumped back in the water below you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his slight brattiness, while Oscar was known for being calm and collected things were very different when it came to sex.

The boy was often impatient and wanted to get things done quickly which is why you were the dom in the bedroom. Oscar took care of you outside of the bedroom, making sure you ate correctly, got enough sleep, had anything and everything you needed, but in the bedroom you made sure he came so hard that he cried.

You didn’t mind his distance for the rest of the day, you could see his hard on through his shorts and you felt bad as he whined when the comforter brushed against it as he climbed into bed that night.

Part of you wanted to give to give in and fuck him right then and there, especially since you knew he had taken a cold shower in attempt to get his hard on to go away but it was no use as when he returned from his shower he found you laid on on the bed with his shirt hardly covering your bare ass.

You woke him up the next morning with kisses along his chest as your nails traced along his waistband.

“Mm, don’t tease please” he mumbled as he opened his sleepy eyes.

He was met with a smirk as he looked down at you, “I have plans for us tonight” you smiled.

“What kind of plans?” He hastily asked, voice full of hope and desperation.

“Dinner at six and then a surprise” you smiled sweetly.

“What kind of surprise?” He pried.

“It’s a surprise for a reason Ozzy, now get your trunks on I wanna go swimming” you beamed as left a peck on his nose.

You two spent the day in the water, snacking on fruits and a nice lunch before returning into the beautiful clear water.

You both retreated back inside the house at four-thirty to shower and begin to get ready for dinner, you had a chef boat out to your small villa to make Oscar’s favorite with a few desserts

You two found your ways to the small kitchen at six, Oscar was dressed in a nice white shirt and khaki shorts while you sported his favorite white sun dress.

The table was set and the island held a few other treats for later, you saw the chefs boat heading off in the distance as you both took your seats.

“God this is delicious” Oscar moaned and you found yourself clenching your thighs at the sound. Despite it being your idea to tease and deny Oscar you were suffering a bit yourself.

You’d spent a week at home with his family before this and before that you two had been apart due to races and work, meaning you two hadn’t had proper sex in about a month and a half.

Once dinner was finished you and Oscar stood in the kitchen, him doing dishes while you stood against the island watching him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” he giggled, feeling your eyes bore into his back.

“Oh trust me I have plenty” you retorted as you pressed yourself against his back, your arms wrapping around his waist.

Oscar smiled at the feeling of your warm body pressed against his-until he felt your fingers teasing the button of his shorts.

“Baby I can’t take anymore teasing” he whined, cutting the water and turning to face you.

“Don’t have to” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Want you to fuck me tonight Osc, you can do whatever you want”

“Wha-really?” He asked looking down at you with wide eyes.

“Yes baby, you’ve been so good the last few months and especially this week, you deserve it”

The boy didn’t reply, instead he pressed his lips against yours and picked you up by your thighs. The kiss was dirty and desperate, tongues attacking each others and breathy whimpers escaping both of you.

“The bed” you breathlessly spoke as you pulled away from his mouth.

Oscar made his was to the bedroom, dropping you down onto the soft mattress before he dove down, attacking your neck with his lips. He left light nips along the column of your throat, he hands running under your dress to trace over your panties.

Pulling back the boy looked down to find your papaya colored panties soaked with your arousal, “So wet baby” he groaned as he pulled your panties off, tossing them somewhere in the room.

He laid himself between your thighs, leaving kisses along the insides. He smirked at the whines escaping from you, usually it was him in you position. Pathetic whines and whimpers leaving his throat as you teased the sensitive skin around his hard cock, but not tonight.

“Want me to eat you out? Gotta beg for it first” he teased, throwing the words you’d used countless times on him back at you.

“Fuck, Osc please-wanna feel your mouth on me” you begged the Aussie.

“Mm, I’m not sure baby. You were a bit mean this week, gonna have to do better than that” he tutted as his lips trailed dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“Please Oscar, I’m so sorry for teasing you all week. Just wanted tonight to be special” you whimpered out as he blew cool air along your dripping folds-breath play-something you’d taught him a few weeks ago.

“I accept your apology baby” he smirked before he dove into your core like a starved man. His lips attached right to your clit, making out with the bud like you’d taught him.

Your moans were pathetic but you didn’t care, Oscar used his mouth in ways you’d never thought possible. Spelling his name out over and over with his tongue before he started to do his racing number.

Your fingers were pulling so hard on the boys hair you were scared you were going to rip it out. “Taste so fucking good” he whined as he pulled back for air, slipping two fingers in to keep you going.

“ah, fuck, so good Ozzy, always so good to me” you praised, knowing just what he was looking for.

He dove back in, fingers splitting you open while his mouth relentlessly sucked and licked at your folds. His nose was nudging your clit while his tongue ran down to join his fingers.

“Gonna-oh shit..I’m gonna cum baby” you cried, feeling the tightness in your belly getting stronger and stronger.

But just as you felt yourself about to tip over the edge of glory-everything stopped.

You shot up on your elbows to look at the dark haired boy who had removed himself from the bed in order to strip his clothes off.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” He smirked but it quickly dropped at your next words.

“Don’t forget who’s really in control here Oscar, I’ll still gladly fuck you stupid”

He offered an apologetic smile before climbing over you, he hooked your legs around his waist as he ran his cock through your folds.

You both released a shared moan at the feeling of him slipping inside of you, “Feels so good” he cried dropping his forehead to rest against your chest.

“Slide all the way in-uh-there you go-good job pretty boy” you instructed, a deep cry escaping Oscar’s throat as he filled you completely.

Oscar started slow, little pathetic thrusts that had sweet little whines coming from his mouth, your sweet nothings and praises encouraging him to speed up.

“So tight” he moaned

“I know you’re doing so good though, M’ so proud of you baby” you moaned as his thumb slipped down to rub your clit.

This wasn’t like your usual teasing and drawn out sex, this was much more intimate and you were loving it.

“Shit Osc, m’ getting close baby” you cried out, feet hooking behind him to draw him even closer.

“Me to, I’m almost there” he replied, thrusts getting erratic and sloppy, the room was now filled with loud skin slapping and pornographic moans unlike the sweet cries that had just filled it.

“I’m cumming, can I come inside? Please” he desperately cried above you.

“Yeah baby, c’mon, cum for me” you told the boy feeling your own orgasm approaching quickly.

“Oh fuck” he whined as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his warm cum coming out in ropes, filling you to the brim.

“Shit Oscar, m’ cumming” you cried quickly following right behind the boy.

Oscar fucked you through your orgasm until you were crying and pushing him away, he pulled out looking at you with a smirk.

“What?” You breathlessly questioned looking up at the flushed boy.

“Nothing it’s just I’m usually the one crying from overstimulation, and I can’t lie I like how you look like that” he blushed looking into your fucked out eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm” he smiled as he laid with his head tucked into your neck.

“Did I do good?” He questioned after a few moments of silence.

“So good Osc, that felt amazing” you smiled giving him a sweet kiss.

“It wasn’t to slow? Your pace is usually a lot quicker”

“It was perfect baby, I enjoyed having you so close. Got to hear your pretty little noises as you took care of me.” You smirked

“I’m glad I could be good for you”

“Your always good Oscar, always”

-

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy Anniversary M’Love.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

anniversary masterlist here !!

authors note - can you believe that it’s my blogs one year anniversary?? time has simply gone by so fast and im so thankful kill for everyone that has been there along the way 🥲 i adore each and every single one of you. 🥹

warning: smut.

word count - 1.6k

in which, it’s your and your husbands first wedding anniversary, he’s flown the two of you out to the country where it all began, hired a boat and got you all to himself, what more could he ask for?

May 22, 2023.

Exactly one year ago, in the intimate courtyard of your Italian villa, you said "I do" to the absolute love of your life.

The memory of that day is etched in your mind like a cherished painting. Surrounded by your closest friends and family, under the canopy of Mediterranean skies, you exchanged vows that echoed the depth of your love for each other.

The scent of Tuscan flowers mingled with the laughter and joy that filled the air, creating a moment suspended in time.

Now, as you celebrate your one-year wedding anniversary, back in the picturesque town of Civita di Bagnoregio where it all began, he surprised you with a romantic gesture that makes your heart skip a beat.

He had rented a boat for the two of you, a symbol of the journey you've embarked on together.

As the boat gently rocks on the tranquil waters, you and Harry find yourselves hidden away from the world, cocooned in the intimate embrace of the bedroom.

You lay sprawled on the soft mattress, your eyes tracing the contours of Harry's back as he applies sunscreen with gentle strokes.

His tattoos dance beneath his touch, each one telling a story of his journey through life. You're mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin, a testament to his strength and resilience.

Silently, you rise from the bed, the gentle sway of the boat beneath you barely perceptible as you make your way over to where Harry stands by the dresser. With a mischievous smile playing on your lips, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him close as you press tender kisses along his back.

The taste of sunscreen lingers on your lips, but you pay it no mind, lost in the sensation of Harry's warmth beneath your touch. He lets out a surprised laugh, turning to face you with a quizzical expression.

"What are you doing?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You simply hum in response, your lips trailing a path of soft kisses along the expanse of his back, reveling in the feel of his skin against yours.

Each touch ignites a spark of desire within you, fueling the fire that burns between you.

Feeling Harry's hand press against your waist, drawing you closer, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. His other hand gently tilts your head upward, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise of passion.

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the sweet taste of his love lingering on your lips.

The softness of his touch ignites a fire within you, spreading warmth throughout your body as you melt into his embrace.

With each gentle caress, the intensity of your connection deepens, a silent symphony of desire and longing that binds you together in perfect harmony.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry whispers,

"Jump."

You chuckle softly, wrapping your legs around his waist and jumping into his arms. His strong embrace catches you effortlessly, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you close.

As you lock eyes with Harry, a mischievous smile plays on your lips.

"Well, here I am," you tease, your heart racing with excitement.

Harry's grin widens, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"And here I am," he replies, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

Before you can say another word, he presses his lips against yours once more, the kiss igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you let out a soft hum of approval, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss.

Breaking away slightly, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

"Take me to bed," you whisper, your voice filled with longing.

Harry's grin turns into a smirk as he carries you towards the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours.

As he gently lays you down on the bed, you find yourself surrounded by warmth and desire, the world outside fading into insignificance as you lose yourselves in each other's embrace.

He doesn’t hesitate in removing the green bikini top from your body, never once removing his lips from your skin, once the bikini top is removed you watch as he slowly makes his way down the bed, stopping at your legs, you can see the prominent tent forming underneath his swim shorts.

A soft moan fell from your lips as he pressed a delicate kiss to the nape of your neck, throwing your head back.

Your hands make there way to his chest, placing a hand over his heart, feeling it race underneath your fingertips.

“M’need you,” he begs, pupils blown. “Need you so bad, baby.”

Your body tensed as his hand edged closer and closer to the hem of your bikini bottoms, your eyes following his hands every move.

“Thought I’d have t’wait until later to get you like this,” he nips at your inner thigh. “Thought I’d only get to have you back home.”

“No,” you shook your head. “You can have me whenever you want.”

And with that, he pressed his tongue against your nerves, making you throw your head back in absolute bliss and ecstasy, as your mind became clouded.

He continuously pressed his tongue against your clit, your head hitting the pillow, eyes wide as every feeling entered your body.

He always made you feel so, so good.

“H-Harry,” you struggle to speak his name as you pulled and tugged at his curls, well the curls that were slowly growing back. “I’m close, so fucking close.”

He hadn’t been going at it for long, but he knew how to get you closer to the edge no matter how long he had.

He had his ways.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he raised his head from between your thighs and through hooded eyes you saw his face, your juices slipping down his chin.

You attempted to wrap your leg around his waist to get him closer to you, but before you had the chance he pinned your leg back down onto the bed. “Relax, take it all in.”

This time, he slid a finger in, making you throw your head back once again, your heart pounding.

“I’m close,” you whimpered. “Please H, let me come, please.”

He smirked above you, “Okay sweetheart, come f’me, come for y’gorgeous husband.”

And with that, you came undone.

Your moans filled the room of the boat, thankful that you were the only two on board, your chest was heaving and your hands were sweaty from gripping his arms.

He slowly crept his way back up the bed, his hands slowly snaking into his own shorts and sliding them down his legs, and that was when you caught sight of his length, it was dripping with pre-cum and the vein down the side of it was deep, and very very prominent.

“Do y’see what you do to me?” He muses.

He brought his hand to his shaft and pumped it a few times, his eyes rolling into the back of his head slightly. “Y’make me like this? Y’make me feel like the luckiest man in the world, y’know why?”

You gulped and shook your head.

He pinched your waist. “Because your all mine.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip of his length nudgin against your entrance.

The two of you had discussed a couple of months ago that you were ready to start trying for a baby, and so that meant no condoms and going raw.

“Are you ready for me?”he quizzed, grabbing ahold of your hand as he nudged his tip a bit further.

“Yes.”

And just like that he pushed himself all of the way inside.

One hand remained in yours whilst the other pressed itself against your stomach, he watched you through hooded eyes. “Can you feel that?”

He kept thrusting in and out of you, him doing the majority of the work as you raised the other hand to hold the side of his face, brushing against his stubble.

“Can y’feel me deep inside of you baby?” He raised an eyebrow as you watched a bead of sweat travel from his hair line. “Can you feel me filling you up, giving you m’babies.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded your head at his words, he knew the effect he had on you. “Uh-huh.”

His lips pressed against yours, he knew you were close again, he was as well, he knew that the second you came undone, he would be an absolute goner.

His thrusts became harder as he watched your mouth drop open, eyes glossing over.

“Come on baby,”He pressed his hand down against her bundle, and a low whine escaped her mouth. “Show your husband just how good he makes you feel.”

He was panting, continuing to do all of the work.

“Come on,” he urged “Come f’your husband.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your mouth dropped open once again, a small whimper of his name falling from your lips.

He watched from above you, and that was when you noticed through a starry gaze that his thrusts were become out of rhythm and slightly lethargic.

“Baby,” he whimpered out the common pet name, dropping his head to your clavicle as he came undone inside of you. “Oh baby.”

Both of you were sweaty as he dropped himself down onto your chest, your boobs squashed against his chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, as he grabbed ahold of your hand, the cool metal of his wedding ring clashing with the cool metal of your wedding band.

“Happy Anniversary, M’love.”

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies | 3

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: terry reconsiders and confesses he wants something more out of this with you. While visiting Chichén Itzá, you and terry get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, playfully teasing, acquaintances to friends to lovers, bubble bath, light angst, nightmare, mention of PTSD, mention of death, explicit smut (18+), oral (m & f), fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, dom/sub, choking kink, unprotected sex, dirty talking, nicknames (mama, cumslut, nasty & sweet girl, sweetheart, baby, baby girl), words: (4k)

note: hi, part 3 is here, it felt so good to write this. please enjoy! Let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts.

series masterlist

-

You and your friends arrived early in the morning in Valladolid, Yucatán, Mexico. With only two days to explore, your plans included visiting the ancient ruins of Chichén Itza.

After that, probably explore a few gift shops and eateries before returning to Cancun. While checking in, the villa only had three bedrooms, which meant you had to share a room with Terry.

You've been trying to hide your feelings for him, but it's getting hard. Every time you look at him, your heart races. The way he carries himself and his charming smile only add to the struggle.

You find yourself lost in thoughts about him, and despite your efforts to push those feelings away, they keep bubbling to the surface. It’s becoming impossible to ignore how much you want him to blow your back again.

As you watched him roll your suitcases alongside his own into the shared room, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his fitted shirt highlighted the definition of the muscles in his back.

His arms showcased the strength beneath the fabric, while the veins in his wrist caught your eye. It was a captivating sight that caused you to feel an undeniable turned on.

Terry leaned the suitcases against the sofa and turned to face you. You held back from throwing yourself at him as his expression appeared tired.

"So...we have to be up by 7, and you know Maya will kill us if we're not on time. So you don’t mind if I take a bath first," You asked, heading to your suitcases to grab some pajamas and toiletries.

"Hold on! You don’t wanna take a bath together?" Terry teased gently, prompting you to turn around with a shy smile.

"I would love to, but do you think you can behave yourself, Terry?" you asked, teasing your tone with a playful expression.

“Oh, I can behave, baby girl. I should be asking you that because I saw the look in your eyes early when you think I didn't notice,” Terry said, coming over and placing his hands on your hips. You laughed softly, looking away.

"Alright, alright. How about we promise to bathe and not start nothing?” you suggested with a smirk, trying to maintain an air of seriousness despite the laughter bubbling inside you.

"Okay, deal," Terry said, his voice deep and full of warmth. You both head to the bathroom; your clothes drop on the floor, and you put on your shower cap.

Terry prepares a bubble bath, and eventually, both of you get in. The warm water envelops you as the bubbles form a playful froth around you.

The bathroom was softly lit, casting a gentle glow that added to the moment's intimacy. You leaned back against Terry, feeling the soothing heat of the water relaxing every part of you.

"This is nice!" Terry whispered, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as the scents of lavender filled the air. It was peaceful and perfect.

"Yeah, it is," You said, tilting your head to look at him, and he kissed you before things got heated. You and Terry kept your deal, exchanging lighthearted banter while helping each other get clean.

Afterward, you both stepped out of the bathtub, dried off, and dressed in nightclothes. You followed your night routine, all while the excitement of tomorrow lingered in your thoughts.

As you settled under the covers, you were respectfully sleeping on your sides of the bed. A few hours goes, and your eyes gently open when you hear Terry murmur in his sleep.

Sitting up slightly, you notice his distressed and sweaty face, indicating he might be trapped in a nightmare. Unsure of how to help, you carefully rise and give him a gentle nudge to wake him up.

"Terry, hey," you whispered softly, brushing the sweat away from his forehead. His eyes flutter open, and he looks momentarily disoriented before meeting your gaze.

"Shit," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he tries to shake off the remnants of the bad dream.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, your voice filled with concern as you gently stroked his arm. Terry hesitated, sitting up and averting his gaze while clenching his jaw.

"I-" He started, turning back to you, tears streaming down his face as his lips began to tremble. Your eyes widened, opening your arms and pulling him towards you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you reassure him, holding him close. He buries his face in your chest, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease.

"I'm here," you continue softly, "and you're safe." Terry inhales deeply, momentarily tightening his hold on you before easing his grip.

You embrace him in silence, allowing him to gather before you inquire. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He lifts his face to look you into your eyes, hesitating, but you give him a reassuring expression.

"It's okay," you said with such sweetness and softness. Terry felt he could be open and vulnerable with you. "Yeah!" Terry said, and you nodded, sensing that he trusted you enough to share.

"Um...months before coming on this trip...I lost my cousin, Mike....." Terry shared, explaining how he had intended to help bail his cousin out of jail and support him in starting a new life, but things took an unexpected turn.

He tells the painful story of losing his cousin and how he defended corrupt police in a town known as Shelby Springs.

Although the case eventually went to court, and he received some significant compensation, it did little to mend the heartache of his cousin's loss.

Terry admitted that he was still dealing with his grief and felt a lingering sense of guilt. “I just sometimes think…I could’ve done much more, and Mike would still be here.”

“Oh Terry, It’s not your fault. You tried your best and brought justice to your cousin's name. I’m sure Mike doesn’t blame you, even with him gone and he still with you in your heart.” You said, comforting him.

Terry nodded, appreciating your comforting words as he took a deep breath; the weight of his emotions seemed to ease slightly, and he looked at you with gratitude.

"Thank you. Hearing that really helps. Sometimes, the guilt can be overwhelming, making it difficult to look beyond it."

You softly held his hand, providing quiet reassurance. "It's natural to feel this way sometimes, but I believe Mike would have wanted you to keep pushing forward and overcome."

Terry gave a small, appreciative smile. “I appreciate you, Thanks for listening. It means a lot”

You smiled back, touched by his words. "Of course, I'll be here, Terry whenever you need me,"

Both of you staring into each other's eyes deeply. "Wanna try to get some sleep again?" you asked, breaking the trance and placing your hand on his cheek.

“Yeah...um, can we cuddle?” He asked shyly which made your heart flutter.

"Of course," You replied warmly, shifting closer to him. Terry wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his body against yours and the gentle rhythm of his breathing was soothing, slowly lulling you back to a state of sleep.

Terry was still awake, and a lot of thoughts were going through his mind. He looked down at you, watching you sleep in his arms. The moment he realized he wanted more with you, it was how easily you comfort him without thinking and let him be vulnerable.

You embodied everything he desired: sweet, caring, alluring, intelligent, beautiful, and empathetic—the list is endless. You stirred feelings in him that he never believed possible; you captivated him deeply.

From the moment you met, he felt a connection with you; this experience only solidified that bond. Terry was determined not to waste another moment of this trip before expressing his feelings.

-

As you wake up, you notice Terry's side of the bed is empty. Letting out a sigh, you get out of bed to brush your teeth, remove your bonnet, and wash your face.

Suddenly, you hear Terry call your name, and you eagerly rush back into the bedroom. He stood by the door, shirtless with just shorts on and a tray of food in his hand.

“I gotta breakfasts. Maya said we have about an hour and a half before we leave for Chichén Itzá. So let’s eat,” Terry said with a warm smile as he set the tray down on the small table by the window.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, glowing gently around the room. You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness.

The tray was filled with an assortment of delicious options: fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, bacon, and two glasses of orange juice. The aroma filled the air, so it smelled good.

Terry pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, feeling appreciation. "This looks amazing, Terry. Thank you," you said, meeting his eyes with a smile.

"You deserve it. Thank you for comforting me; I needed it," he replied, sitting across from you.

"There's no need to thank me, honey. I would gladly be there for you if you need me," You said honestly, and Terry couldn't help but feel his feelings deepen for you.

"How are you this morning?" You asked, salting and peppering your eggs before taking a bite.

"A lot better; I haven't slept that good in a minute, thanks to you," Terry said, and you smiled shyly.

You both enjoyed the breakfast; the conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, and you shared excitement about today's adventure to Chichén Itzá.

Terry paused, watching you animatedly describe what you looked forward to seeing. You paused from talking and just stared at Terry, who noticed you stopped talking.

“What?” He asked with a smile.

"This is just nice; I could get used to this," You admitted.

Terry chuckled softly, "I was hoping you would say that," he responded.

"Cause me too, I want more moments like this with you," Terry said as your eyes met his. His sincerity in gaze made your heart flutter.

"Really?" you inquired, not fully comprehending his words as they resonated with your own unspoken hopes. "You're just playing with me," you added shyly.

“I'm not, baby girl, I’m dead serious,” Terry said in his low, deep voice, moving his chair to wrap his arms around you. There was a hint of fear in his expression that you might not believe him.

“What about not wanting anything serious?” You asked shyly, looking away for a second before looking back. Terry paused, his eyes reflecting honesty and determination.

"At first, I did but spending even a short time with you has opened my eyes to what I've been missing. Initially, I believed it was fun and lust, but now I understand that it’s something deeper, and I don’t want to let it slip away," he spoke gently.

His words ignited a warmth in your chest, their sincerity resonating profoundly within you. "I like you a lot, baby, I care about you, and when I'm with you, everything feels right," he said, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want to explore where this could lead if you're open to giving it a chance. We can take it slow" His honesty was palpable, igniting a spark of hope within you.

The thought of delving into something serious with Terry filled you with excitement and relief. You took a deep breath, pondering the possibilities ahead.

"I like you a lot too, Terry. Like I said before, I'm here for you, and I want to give this a try," you replied gently. You lowered your eyes shyly, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in a long time.

Terry leaned to kiss you passionately as if everything in the universe had aligned perfectly for this moment. With the breakfast plates nearly empty.

Terry leaned back in his chair, stretching before suggesting, "Alright, we should probably start getting ready soon. I wouldn't want to upset Maya by being late."

You laughed, nodding in agreement. "True, she might not forgive us if we miss the damn van." as you cleared the table, the excitement for the day ahead felt so good.

-

You and Terry are dressed in casual clothes. Hand in hand, you make your way to the villa's living room, spotting Maya, Sasha, Bryce, and Cam there.

Maya started with a joyful smile. "Well, looky...looky! What's happening here?"

“Right, this is new. Are y’all like togather now?” Sasha asked with hope in her eyes.

“Yeah, something like that,” Terry said with a chuckle. “Word?” Bryce asked with a grin and playfully nudged him on the shoulder.

"We haven't defined what we are yet, but we're definitely something more than we were before," You explained, looking up at Terry with sweet eyes.

"Yeah, just taking it slow," Terry exclaimed, glancing down at you and giving your hand a firm squeeze as if he were channeling all his energy toward you.

Sasha clapped her hands, and her eyes lit up like she had just seen a fireworks show. "Y'all are so cute. I'm so happy for you two!"

"Yeah, both of you look good together," Cam said, grinning like he knew what was up. You felt warm and fuzzy inside, with your friends hyping you and Terry.

“Ok, now,” Maya called, looking at everyone with a smile. "Who’s excited we’re going to Chichén Itzá?"

Cam rubbed his hands together like a birdman. "I've been wanting to see that place. It's gonna be dope!"

Sasha spoke, her enthusiasm infectious. "Yeah, and we gotta take a bunch of photos! I need some new material for my travel blog."

Bryce chuckled, throwing an arm around Sasha's shoulder. "For real, and I can't wait to see you try to climb one of those pyramids for the perfect shot without tripping."

As laughter filled the room, Terry gently squeezed your hand, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding that this trip would be memorable in more ways than one.

"Alright, let's get moving then," You said, feeling the buzz of excitement. With that, everyone gathered their things, and the group started their adventure.

The drive to Chichén Itzá was filled with excited and lively chatter. Once you arrive, go inside with your paid tickets and walk through the souvenir stands path.

The first thing you approach is El Castillo; it takes your breath away. "Look at that!" Maya exclaimed, pointing towards the imposing pyramid that dominated the site.

"This is incredible!" Terry said, standing by your side, his hand brushing against yours as you both took the sight.

"It's amazing," Cam murmured, a sense of wonder in his voice. "I can't believe we're actually here."

Sasha was already snapping photos, capturing every angle and detail to share on her blog.

"This place is a photographer's dream," She said, her eyes wide with excitement.

The group wandered through the ruins, exploring the Temple of the Warriors and the Great Ball Court. Each site added layers to the stories you imagined about the Mayan civilization.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you all took a break under the shade of a large tree, sipping some cold water. Terry leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear.

"I'm really glad I got to see these with you," he said, his sincerity shining. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.

"Me too," you replied, the truth of your words resonating between you. As the sun shines bright on both of you, stroll away to talk; the conversation flows as easily as ever.

You knew a few things about Terry he mentioned before, but you wanted more depth and detail to get to know him better. You looked over at him and asked about his childhood.

He shifted his gaze and began to speak about his childhood. “I was born and raised in New Orleans; I was cool with everyone in school, made good grades, and played a few sports until college."

He took a breath, continued. "I have great parents and a great family, so family gatherings and spending time with them means a lot to me! What about you?”

“Wow, I feel you on that. Family is everything, " you began before continuing. "Um…I was born in New York but moved to Lafayette, Louisiana, with my parents when I was 5,” you shared, your voice brightening.

“I was pretty shy and introverted, as I still am today. I mostly kept to myself, lost in the books and making good grades, and the only friends I made were Sasha and Maya." You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the sky.

"I'm an only child, so my parents were really supportive about anything I wanted to do. I became an archivist and have always loved digging into the past.” You added.

"Wow, that totally makes sense; you were a good girl all your life, huh?" Terry asked playfully.

You laughed at his playful teasing, giving a slight nod. "I suppose that's true. I always strive to stay on the right path, but that doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed my fair share of wild and fun moments when I felt like it," you responded with a wink.

Terry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well...you got to tell me at least one"

"Alright...well, there was this one time in college," you began, leaning back in your chair as you recalled the memory.

"Where Sasha and Maya practically beg me to go to Miami for the weekend. I decided to go, and It was supposed to be a relaxing getaway, but things got a little...out of hand."

Terry leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. "Go on," he urged.

"We ended up at this beach party, and let's just say there was a little too much tequila involved," you admitted with a laugh.

"I think we found ourselves on stage during a karaoke competition singing New Edition. I don't remember much, but I do know we won and then I think I threw up on stage. It was wild" You said, shook your head, thinking about all the craziness.

Terry burst into laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh man, I really wish I could have witnessed that! You know, when I first met you, I could sense there was a vibrant, outgoing side to you mixed with that shy, sweet, good girl in you."

You shrugged. "Sometimes being shy and introverted can suck; I've shelled myself on a lot of things and lost opportunities because of it."

Terry placed his hand on your arm and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, but you're doing well, like on this trip. Look where it brought you."

You smiled at his words, appreciating his understanding. "Yeah, you're right. It’s been so amazing and freeing especially because I met you. You've played a part in me opening my shell"

Terry's expression softened. "I did a little; you did the rest, and watching you blossom and feeling a deep connection with someone as beautiful, intelligent, and sweet as you has been wonderful"

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Same here, Terry" you admitted lightly.

"I never imagined I would meet such a wonderful, kind, respectful, and handsome man like you but I'm glad I did," you remarked, Terry's smile radiating warmth and sincerity.

He gently lifted your hand and kissed it, his eyes shining with genuine affection. "Well, I guess we both got lucky on this trip," he replied, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You both sat there momentarily, enjoying the comfortable silence and the connection that hung like a gentle melody. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a little moment like this.

Illuminated the potential of what you could build together. With that, the two of you got up and walked hand in hand. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you met back up with the group and soon left Chichén Itzá.

The ride back to the villa was filled with comfortable chatter here and there. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, and you found yourself lost in thought rest of the trip and about the possibilities ahead with Terry.

-

Once back at the villa, everyone decided to unwind and relax after the fun but tiring day by the pool, with music, tacos, and beans—a delightful way to wind down.

Bryce and Sasha splashed around in the pool, Maya and Cam deeply conversed, and you were mainly on Terry, who leaned closer with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You know,” Terry said with a smirk, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to take you upstairs right now.”

His voice was teasing, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes. You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh really?”

Terry leaned in more, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, I know when my sweet girl needs me.” You could feel your heart racing, your panties getting wet, and excitement coursing through you.

“You're right, Daddy. Let’s go," you whispered, getting up and saying good night to the others. You grabbed Terry's hand and dragged him away, which made him laugh.

Once the door of your shared bedroom closed, Terry pulled you in for a kiss, urgency lacing his every movement. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The sexual tension manifests from the heat between you. The two of you had spent all day teasing each other with stolen glances and lingering touches while at Chichén Itzá.

The kiss shared was electric, a spark igniting between you. This kiss differed from others; it was tender yet filled with an undeniable passion and softness.

You lose yourself in the way his tongue dances along yours, and your hands reach the other's bodies and take each piece of clothing off between every loving kiss.

You pulled away, taking a breath as Terry cupped your breasts in his soft, big hands. You think he has an obsession with your breasts every time he gets sight of them.

"Mmm, you are so fucking sexy, you know that. I love your body so much, especially these big tits," He said, looking down at you slightly; hesitation was in his eyes before he went for it.

Terry started motorboating you, causing you to gasp and slightly giggle, confirming your theory. You bit your lip and grabbed the back of his head, smacking with your tits in his face.

"Yes, I like that. Keep smacking me with those beauties," Terry growled as you continued for a little bit until he cupped your breasts and sucked the nipples.

"Ahh, Daddy, please. I-I need that dick; I wanna suck it again," You moaned, sliding your hand down to grip the tip of his dick in your hand and stroking him, playing with his pre-cum.

Terry moaned, leaning his forehead against yours, breath slightly hitched. "Fuck, yes, I couldn't get that talented little mouth of yours out of my mind."

"Mmm, yeah Terry. You love my mouth, don't you? I rocked your world; I had you cumming all over, wouldn't you like that again" You moaned, stroking him faster, causing him to moan more.

"Fuck, lay on your stomach and moved to the edge of the bed" Terry ordered, removing your hand from his dick and moving you towards the bed.

You lay on your stomach, looking up at Terry lustfully as he comes with his big, hard throbbing dick in your sight, making your mouth water.

"It's not gonna suck itself, mama. Get to work," Terry said, shoving his dick in your mouth, causing you to moan; you popped him for a second before going back in.

You look at him, bobbing your head up and down his length, loving his expressions. "Ohhhh....yes, just like that, baby fuck...that ass of yours looks incredible from this angle."

You moaned muffledly, feeling Terry grip your ass cheeks before sliding his fingers through your wet folds. You continued to suck him, moving your head up and down as he began to finger you.

"Ahh, Terry." You pulled out to say with a moan before going back to sucking him out. You try your best to focus on giving him pleasure but with his fingers thrusting fast in your pussy was.....

"Mmmm, baby, you just know how to make me feel so good with that pretty mouth of yours; let me bury my dick in your mouth," Terry says, grabbing your head with both of his heads and starting fucking your mouth.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes water slightly as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat in an incredibly harsh way. "Take that dick so well, fuck baby, keep looking at me like that, make me fucking cum"

He pops himself out of your mouth, slapping his dick on your tongue before letting you going back to suck and began stroking at the same time while still looking at him.

"Mmm, daddy...I want you to cum....I need you to cum in my mouth, I want to tasted all on my tongue please"

"Shit, mama. You want that cum, huh? My cumslut, keep sucking the dick for the nut, sweet girl," Terry moaned, grabbing your braids.

You moaned, stroking and sucking him, going faster than before. "Just like that, fuck.....shit shit shit. You want that nut, right?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, I want it all, cum for me, cum on this mouth for your good girl," You moaned, looking up at him while holding his legs for support.

Terry thrusted his length deep in your mouth, gripping the back of your neck, feeling himself getting close to the edge, and seeing you take it all like a champion with no gag made him bust.

"fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!" He moaned as his eyes rolling the back out of head as he burst his full hot load into your throat, it was so much that you popped him out of your mouth.

All of his cum came dropping out of your mouth and got on your lips, chin, and the bed, causing you to smile at the sight. You gazed up at Terry with a smile.

"My nasty girl," Terry moaned, wiping the cum off your chin, and you sucked off his fingers. He was trying to steady his feet, slightly shaken from mind-blowing release.

He almost fell, and you had to catch and help him lay down on his back. You kissed his cheek, his neck, and then his sweaty chest.

"Honey, you okay?" You asked, clearing your throat and wiping your face with some tissue by the bed before placing your hand on his rising chest.

Terry was quiet, panting heavily while calming down from the high. “Yeah fuck....I think I’m falling for you. You are the only woman who has made me cum like that.”

His voice was playful but was also serious. His words hung in the air, a gentle echo that resonated in your heart.

“I…I think I’m falling for you too, Terry," you said with a smile. He smiled, going for a kiss and flipping you on your back to spread your legs wide.

Terry slightly rises, lifting your leg and kissing the ankle down to your thigh, loving the feel of his plump, sweet, and soft lips on your skin, slightly tingling in a way.

"Please, more, Daddy." You begged.

"Mmmm...you have such a perfect pretty pussy…I love it so much; it was made just for me, taste it and bury my dick in it," Terry said before plunging his tongue between your wet folds.

His lips capture your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, alternating between flicks with the tip of his tongue and light nibbles with his teeth.

You placed your hand on the back of his head as he went harder than before. "Oh, yes, Terry, yes...shit I love your tongue, make me feel so good"

Terry pulls away for a second, rubbing your clit. "I know, baby, you deserve to feel good. Fuck, baby, you know I love hearing talk dirty keep it coming, beautiful."

"Ahh fuck, eat my pussy, fucking eat my pussy" You cried, gazing down at him for a second before back at the ceiling; he grabbed your hands and held you down as he sucked the soul of you.

"You look so beautiful, baby; you're about to cum, right? You're gonna cum for me?" Terry asked, rubbing at your clit.

"Ahh yes, i'm gonna cum yes, I'm gonna cum-!" You whimpered, feeling your legs shake and tense up close to the edge.

"Cum for me, cum for me, mama," Terry said, and your orgasm hit you hard, causing you to let out a scream of pleasure.

As you came down, Terry kissed up your body until he got to your lips and pressed a passionate kiss on you, tasting yourself.

"Daddy, I need you now, please I need that dick inside me again," You cried, stroking his still hard, throbbing dick.

"I'll give you what you need, baby, don't worry," Terry said, sliding you down to the edge of the other side of the bed, slightly spreading your plump legs wide before hovering over you,

His warm hand cradled your face, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. He began stroking his length before moving to slide his dick up and down your wet folds.

"Ahhhhhh!!!" You opened your mouth in an O as you looked at him, feeling the tip of his dick teasing your wet entrance. Terry gently thrusts his dick fully into your pussy.

A wave of deep pleasure washed over you, causing a moan to escape your lips. He continued to thrust slowly and gently.

His presence was both sensual and promising in this loving moment. You tugged Terry toward you for a kiss and pulled away, resting your forehead against him.

"Mmm, Terry ah...right there..." You moaned, placing your hand on the low of his back and pulling him for another kiss.

The warmth of his body against yours heightened the intimacy. The incredible feeling in every sense of his dick deep inside of you that you were squeezing him so tightly.

You titled your head to look at Terry from your neck and his eyes were slightly closed for a second. "You feel that baby, feel how deep I am in that pussy?"

Terry moaned, and you bit your lip with a nod before answering. "Yes, I feel it. It's so deep, Daddy." You said as he slightly moved his body up, and you placed a hand on his chest.

You looked down, focusing on the way his dick moved in and out of you, noticing the steady rise and fall of his breath.

"Faster," You begged as he said, "You wanna go faster?"

"Yes, Daddy, please." You answered, and he changed the missionary to the side, gripping your ass cheek before going a little faster in his thrusts.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You cried, running your hand up and down his firm, toned arm as he kissed your neck, thrusting his dick deep inside of you.

He spread your ass cheeks a little bit wider to go deeper, and with each thrust getting more substantial, the whole bed started making a squeaking sound.

"Fuck, this pussy was just made for me; this is all mine, baby girl? this pussy's is mine" He asked, whispering in your ear while biting and kissing at your neck.

"Ahh fuck yes Terry, all yours." You moaned, couldn't hold back your loud moans, and shouted out his name every time he hit your sweet spot.

"You like that, huh? Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you?" Terry asked, wrapping his hand on your neck softly.

"Ahh, oh....fuck...I love it more than, like, Daddy. I love how you fill me up every time," You moaned, feeling closer to the edge.

Terry pulls out and thrusts back with force; he does this a few times, just loving how his dick leaves and enters your pussy, creamy affected.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum" You cried out, digging your nails into his arm, slapping skin filled the room loud as he thrusts faster then before, loosen his grip on your neck.

Terry slaps your ass while gripping it, matching the rhythm of this pounding thrusts as he said "Cum on your dick, it's all yours baby, squeezing me for that cum, fuck"

Once the words left his lips, you came hard all over his dick moaning his name, and he wasn't that far behind as you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you.

"So....fucking....good!" Terry pulled out of you and watching his cum drop out of your pussy. You smiled happily, calming down from the high.

Terry went and got a washcloth to clean you up. Once he finished, he moved you up to the pillows, laid beside you and enveloped you in his arms.

"You're completely mine, just as I am entirely yours!" he declared, and as you looked up into his eyes, you responded with a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Yes...we belong to each other," you whispered softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The room was filled with a serene silence, broken only by the rhythmic beating of your hearts.

Outside, the moonlight spilled in through the window, giving everything a magical glow. You snuggled in tighter, feeling his chest rise and fall, knowing this was your spot.

[goldfades]

honeymoon! | JOE BURROW⁹ [006]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on a request -> maybe a smutty blurb for the joe series from their honeymoon 😍 night the baby was conceived

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | plot w/ NSFW under the cut, mdni! pretty soft, honeymoon fucking, we all know how it goes. unprotected sex! (oops... that's how our little accident baby was made, ig) p in v, a whole lotta praise, maybe a little too much foreplay, dry humping? SO MUCH EFFING KISSING IT'S ACTUALLY INSANE,

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 began with sunlight slipping through the white linen curtains of their beachfront villa, casting warm, golden streaks across the bed. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore replaced the usual hum of alarm clocks and city noise. It was peaceful, a slow and languid awakening to the soft melody of Barbados.

You stirred first, the warm breeze from the open balcony brushing against your skin. The air smelled like salt and hibiscus, mingled with the faintest trace of sunscreen from the night before. Stretching out, your arm brushed against Joe’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing letting you know he was still fast asleep.

For a moment, you just watched him. His lashes rested on his cheeks, his hair an unruly mess from a restless sleep on the crisp sheets. His sun-kissed skin glowed faintly in the morning light, a preview of what the week ahead would bring. He looked peaceful, his usual intensity softened in this quiet morning moment.

Eventually, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast—sweet coconut, warm banana bread, and freshly brewed coffee—wafted into the room, urging you to move. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Joe’s shoulder.

“Joe,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above the ocean breeze.

He groaned in response, his eyes still closed. “Five more minutes,” he muttered, pulling the sheet higher over his shoulder.

You laughed, tugging at the blanket. “If you don’t get up, I’m starting this honeymoon without you.”

His eyes cracked open at that, one brow arching lazily. “You wouldn’t dare.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you slipped out of bed, grabbing the silky robe from the back of the door and tying it loosely around your waist. The cool tile floor under your bare feet was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the Caribbean morning. Joe watched you from the bed, his lips twitching into a soft smile as you peeked out onto the balcony.

The view stole your breath. A turquoise sea stretched endlessly toward the horizon, dotted with white sailboats that glided lazily across the water. The beach was a postcard come to life: soft, white sand scattered with seashells and bordered by swaying palm trees.

“Okay, now I’m up,” Joe announced, his voice gravelly from sleep as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Breakfast was served on the villa’s private terrace, a table set for two with fresh tropical fruits, flaky pastries, and omelets stuffed with local spices. Joe poured you a glass of orange juice, and you returned the favor by slicing up pieces of mango to share.

The morning passed in the kind of leisurely bliss you could only find on an island vacation. After breakfast, you walked down to the beach, your fingers intertwined as the sun climbed higher into the sky. The sand was warm beneath your feet, and the occasional cool splash of the ocean sent shivers up your spine.

Joe insisted on carrying you over a shallow tidepool when you hesitated, laughing at your squeal as the water splashed higher than you expected. “Can’t have you chickening out now,” he teased, setting you down just as the next wave brushed against your calves.

By midday, you found yourselves sprawled out on two lounge chairs under a palm tree. Joe had traded his usual serious demeanor for something more relaxed, leaning back with a contented sigh as you read aloud from a cheesy romance novel you’d brought along. His teasing interruptions—“People actually say that?!”—had you both laughing until your cheeks hurt.

As the day unfolded, everything seemed perfect in its simplicity. The quiet moments between you, the way Joe’s hand lingered on your back when you walked past, or the way he absentmindedly kissed your forehead when you handed him a drink—it was all the kind of effortless love you’d dreamed of.

┈┈┈

The soft hum of the ceiling fan swirled with the salt-tinged breeze that swept through the villa, carrying with it the promise of a balmy Barbados night. Outside, the waves lapped lazily against the shore, their rhythmic song mingling with the distant chirping of tree frogs. The day had melted into evening seamlessly, the sky now painted in inky blues and dotted with stars.

You stood on the balcony, wrapped in one of Joe’s oversized button-ups, the hem brushing mid-thigh as you leaned against the railing. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, a dark expanse glimmering under the moonlight. Behind you, Joe emerged from the shower, his steps quiet on the cool tiles.

“You always steal my shirts,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Without turning, you smirked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his arms slipped around your waist from behind, his damp skin cool against your back as he pulled you close. His hands splayed over your stomach, his thumbs brushing small, deliberate circles against the fabric.

“You looked good out there today,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched at the soft intimacy of it. “You mean when I almost face-planted in the tidepool?”

Joe chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Even then. You make clumsiness look cute.”

You tilted your head to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

His grin was boyish, disarming. “Depends. Did it work?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, your body softening under his touch. His hands didn’t stop their exploration, sliding along your sides, his fingers brushing the edges of bare skin where the shirt didn’t quite meet your thighs.

“Joey,” you started, your voice dipping slightly as you tried to maintain composure.

“Hmm?” His lips found your neck, his movements slow and deliberate.

“You’re being distracting.”

“That’s kind of the point.” His words were muffled against your skin, but the grin in his voice was unmistakable.

He turned you around, his hands settling on your hips as he pressed you gently against the railing. His gaze was heavy-lidded, the playful glint in his blue eyes softened by something deeper, something intimate. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, the teasing gone now. His thumb brushed your cheek as if committing the moment to memory.

The vulnerability in his voice made your breath catch. You reached up, cupping his jaw, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. “You’re terrible at taking compliments.”

“Maybe you’re just too good at giving them.”

Joe’s hands tightened on your hips, tugging you closer. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh? Just ‘like’ me?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his lips met yours, slow and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world. His kiss was soft, yet his hands were firm, grounding you as they slipped under the hem of the shirt, warm against your skin.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his chin on the top of your head, holding you close. “For the record,” he murmured, “I more than like you.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I would hope so. You did marry me.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was different—more hurried, more insistent. Before you could catch your breath or process the shift in his mood, Joe’s arms slid under your thighs, lifting you with ease. A startled laugh escaped your lips, quickly muffled as he kissed you again, walking the two of you back into the villa without breaking contact.

“Joe!” you managed between kisses, your fingers instinctively tangling in the damp strands of his hair. “You’re going to trip.”

He smirked against your lips, his confidence unwavering. “I’m a quarterback. I don’t trip.”

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hold on you left little room for coherent thought. His stride was purposeful, his hands secure on your thighs as he carried you through the open patio doors and into the softly lit living room. The sea breeze followed, carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus, but the cool air was no match for the heat radiating between the two of you.

By the time he reached the bedroom, you were breathless, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the journey. He set you down carefully on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something.

“What?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Nothing. Just... you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile you tried to suppress gave you away. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.” His voice was lower now, a teasing edge to it as he leaned in, his hands framing your face. “You gonna keep arguing, or can I kiss you again?”

Your response was immediate, pulling him down to meet you halfway. This kiss was no longer hurried but deliberate, the weight of the moment sinking in as his hands moved with purpose, sliding under the fabric of the shirt you wore.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, and the sound of the waves outside became a distant murmur. For a while, the world shrank to just the two of you—Joe’s hands, his lips, his warmth surrounding you entirely.

The teasing was still there in the way he nipped at your bottom lip or murmured something smug when you let out a quiet gasp. But beneath it all was something deeper, something unspoken yet understood between you both.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you catching your breath, he grinned that boyish grin that always disarmed you. “So,” he said, his voice thick with amusement and affection, “still think I’m going to trip?”

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns along the back of his neck. “No. But I might.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before easing you back against the pillows, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something more tender. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a promise. “I’ll catch you.”

Joe’s lips grazed yours again, soft and deliberate, the teasing smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth. His hands settled at your waist, fingers brushing the hem of the oversized shirt you’d thrown on after your shower. It was technically his, the fabric worn and loose, but he didn’t seem to mind—especially as he slowly started to lift it, his knuckles ghosting over your bare thighs.

“I think this belongs to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. His baby blues flicked up to meet yours, daring you to argue.

“Does it?” you challenged softly, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his muscled skin under your palms.

Joe grinned, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours. “It does. But I’m willing to share—if you ask nicely.”

The laugh that bubbled out of you was cut short when his lips trailed along your jaw, his hands continuing their slow ascent, sending little shocks of heat through your skin. “You’re ridiculous,” you managed, though your breath hitched when his thumbs brushed the curve of your hips.

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, his voice a quiet rumble against your neck. His lips moved with deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of kisses that had you melting into his touch.

Your hands found their way into his blonde hair, tugging lightly in retaliation, which only made him chuckle. The sound vibrated against your skin, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten slightly.

“Careful,” he warned playfully, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. “You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to stop.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Who says I want you to?”

That was all the encouragement Joe needed. His smile turned wicked, and before you could say another word, he was easing you back onto the bed, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you again—deeper this time, less teasing, more intent.

His weight settled above you, one hand slipping beneath the shirt to trace the curve of your ribs while the other tangled in your hair. The kisses grew slower but no less consuming, each one leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze softening despite the heat between you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, though the words came out shaky, your heart racing under his touch.

Joe laughed softly, his breath warm against your lips. “Not so bad? I think I can do better than that.”

Joe’s teasing edge melted away, replaced by a deeper intensity. His lips pressed to yours with a hunger that left no room for playful quips or lingering hesitation. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the thin fabric of the shirt as if it had always been in his way before unbuttoning it slowly, slipping it off of you, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You were only left in your bra and underwear, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Your breath caught as his hands mapped every inch of bare skin they could find, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the softness of his touch. His fingers splayed against your waist, pulling you closer, like even the smallest gap between you was too much before he pulled you toward his crotch. You felt his bulge against your warmth, the feeling too dizzying, you just had to let out a small whimper, your head falling back into the plush pillow.

“You like that?” he murmured, the word barely audible as he leaned forward, his mouth trailed down your neck, each kiss leaving a warm flush in its wake as he began pushing his bulge against you, rougher this time.

“Joey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your fingers skimmed over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the taut muscle beneath.

He hummed in response, his lips finding the hollow of your throat, lingering there for a moment before moving lower. He slowly began moving his hips against your covered pussy, eliciting small noises from you. He was rock-hard, you could feel his excitement through the thin material of his gray sweats.

For a moment, he stilled, his eyes roving over you as if committing every detail to memory. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice low and thick, his words sinking into your skin like a promise.

Heat bloomed in your chest, and before you could respond, his lips found yours again, firmer, deeper, his hand sliding up your side to cup your cheek. The world outside the villa ceased to exist; all that mattered was the way his touch sent a current through you, grounding you and setting you alight all at once.

You tugged at his shirt in response, your fingers fumbling slightly in your urgency. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before leaning back just enough to help you. The fabric joined yours on the floor, and then he was back, his skin warm against yours, every inch of contact electric.

His hands skimmed over your thighs, hooking behind your knees to draw you closer. The air felt charged, the only sounds filling the room your uneven breaths and the gentle crash of waves outside. He began rocking his hips against yours, letting out a needy groan of his own.

“Please, Joe,” you moaned, breathless and oh so wet, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

“Please, what?” He challenged, his forehead leaning to rest against yours. His lips were curved, a cocky smiling gracing his features. Yeah, he wasn't giving in so easily—even if he was rock-hard and just as needy as you.

You rolled your eyes, your chest rising and falling as your eyes found his again. His baby blues were dilated and dark, the familiar lustful gaze glazing his eyes. But somehow, there was still that warmth and love you knew he felt for you.

“Just, please fuck me.”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, harder this time, more insistent, as if the words you’d exchanged weren’t enough to convey the depth of his feelings. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer with a quiet, desperate kind of urgency that left no space between you, his body practically trembling with restraint.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered against your lips, his voice low, his breath hot.

You tried to reply, but your words were swallowed by the kiss that followed, deeper, more fervent. His hands roamed, fingers splayed wide as they moved over the curves of your back, memorizing every inch. There was no hesitation now, no pretense—just raw affection and the kind of vulnerability that came from letting someone see all of you, heart and soul.

He broke away only briefly, his forehead pressed to yours, his blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he admitted, his voice uneven, like the words cost him something.

The weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice sent a shiver through you. “I don’t think I’d ever want you to,” you murmured back, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently to anchor yourself.

That was all it took for his restraint to falter. His lips were back on yours, hungrier this time, his hands tightening their grip as if he was afraid you might slip away. His desperation wasn’t rushed or clumsy; it was reverent, like he was determined to make every moment count, to leave no part of you untouched by the depth of his adoration.

Finally, his hands began pulling off his sweatpants, his lips never leaving yours. He tugged them off swiftly, throwing them on the floor as he pulled away for a second, gripping your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. Joe's eyes never left yours as he slowly took off his briefs, your breath hitching. As soon as his briefs were off, his large fingers hooked on your panties and slipped them off.

His lips found yours again, moving forward slowly as he led himself toward your folds. You felt his breath hitch before he slowly pushed into you, broken moans leaving your lips. You already felt so full and he wasn't even a quarter inside yet.

You were sopping wet at that point, he could easily slip into you quickly—but he took his time, as if he was trying to memorize the way your cunt squeezed him so perfectly, how perfect you felt around his cock and how he swore your pussy was made for him. Joe was huge, that was never a secret—the whole “Big Dick Joe” hat was never really a joke.

You felt him fill you up slowly but surely, until he completely bottomed you out. Your hands were gripping his broad shoulders as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, focusing on the feeling of Joe's cock stretching you out.

And you swore, no matter how many times you fuck—the feeling will never, ever get old.

“Oh God, yes,” you practically cried out as you squeezed his shoulders tighter, your nails digging into his warm skin. He groaned at the stinging feeling, the pleasure coursing through his body.

He let you adjust to his size as he began kissing you again, slower this time. The kiss grew more intense, trailing down your jawline and across your neck, each one carrying a weight that left you breathless. His hands remained steady on your hips as he let you adjust to his size, and yet there was an unmistakable tremor in the way his fingers pressed into your skin, like he was holding on for dear life.

Slowly, he began thrusting out of you, before crashing into you rougher. His patience was wavering, you could see it in his expression.

“Harder, Joe,” you moaned breathlessly as you squeezed his shoulder harder, gazing up at him through your lashes.

That was all he needed. Joe began rocking into you, the bed moving along with each of his hard thrusts. His hands gripped your thighs before lifting your legs onto his shoulders, your hands falling back on the bed as he began fucking you even deeper. The new angle made you cry out in utter pleasure, gripping the sheets as he groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

“Say you’re mine,” he murmured against the hollow of your throat as he leaned in, his voice rough with need, the words barely audible over the sound of the bed creaking beneath the two of you.

“I’m yours,” you answered without hesitation, your voice trembling but sure. The words seemed to undo him further, a shiver running through his frame as his hips began moving at an almost impossible speed, his forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“You don’t know what that does to me,” he whispered breathlessly, his breath hot against your skin. His hands gripped your hips firmly as if to ground himself, but his lips never stopped their journey—brushing along your collarbone, lingering where he could feel the rapid beat of your pulse.

His kisses became softer for a moment, almost trembling with the intensity of what he was trying to say without words. The movements of his hips were a perfect blend of desperation and purpose—like every thrust, every kiss, was a vow, a promise of just how much you meant to him.

But the desperation was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to bubble over again.

You felt that familiar tightening in your lower stomach, and your walls tightened around his cock. He was close, too—you could feel it in the way his hips rocked against yours, harder and more frantic than the last and the way he let out his groans freely.

Time seemed to dissolve, measured only by the gentle rhythm of the waves outside and the warmth of Joe’s touch. Every movement between you was deliberate, filled with a perfect mix of care and roughness that made the world outside feel irrelevant.

His hands never strayed far, always returning to cradle your face or trace patterns along your thighs as though grounding himself in the moment.

And right as you were about to go over the edge, Joe’s hand slipped to yours, his fingers threading through yours in a gesture so tender it brought an ache to your chest. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, rippling through you harshly.

You cried out loudly in pleasure, the sound echoing in the empty villa. A few more frantic thrusts and Joe was spilling into you, his groans heavenly and loud. You both caught your breathes, slow and heavy all at once. The villa was quiet except for the shared sounds of your breathing, the ocean breeze filtered in through the slightly open windows, cool and refreshing against the heat you shared, carrying the faint scent of salt and hibiscus.

After a moment, his lips brushed your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if memorizing you was his life’s work.

“You okay?” he murmured again, his voice softer now, almost reverent, his forehead pressed lightly against yours.

“Yes,” you replied, breathless but certain, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Perfect, actually.”

The night stretched on in a haze of soft laughter, quiet reassurances, and the feeling of being utterly cherished. By the time you lay tangled together beneath the linen sheets, exhaustion pulled at your limbs, but your heart was light. Joe’s arm was slung protectively around your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“Love you,” he murmured, the words slurred with sleep but no less sincere.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I love you, too.”

The moonlight poured through the open window, silver light painting your intertwined forms as the waves provided a lullaby. With Joe’s steady presence beside you, you felt more at peace than ever—like the rest of the world could wait, because here, in this moment, you had everything you could ever need.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[amanora]

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[jarofstyles]

Sea View

Hello my lovely babies. Here is a sugar baby!H one shot. 

I hope you enjoy them. 

Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings!

WC- 3.7k

Warnings- public sex/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, slight degrading but also praise kink, soft!dom H

---

The Italian sun was turning his skin golden. He knew that it was definitely time for a sunscreen application again, but the beams of warmth felt too damn good on his body to be assed to get up.

Besides- he had Y/N’s leg hitched over his as she napped in the familiar sunbeams he was soaking in.

After a particularly stressful week, Y/N had had enough. She chartered a yacht, called her assistant to defer her calls and woke Harry up from his meditation nap to pack his bags. They were on the private plane before he even properly woke up, but he couldn’t complain.

The water was impossibly blue, the weather was perfect and their boat was heavenly. He’d never been on a vacation quite like this. He’s actually been to Italy for a bit when he did an exchange program, but he hadn’t been able to just relax. He’d spent his time exploring and studying when he was here, picking up the language, learning the people, his surroundings. There wasn’t time to just… be

A week back in Italy with the best food, a private boat and villa and the most beautiful woman he had ever met, all expenses paid? He would be a fool to turn that down. All he needed to do was help her unwind. That meant hiding her work phone from her, massaging her shoulders, letting her sleep on him like she was now, and giving her every bit of affection and sex that she could possibly want.

‘You work so hard, darling. Deserve a break. I’ll take care of you.’ Was what he had told her when they boarded the boat, kissing her lips as he felt her hands grip his shorts. They had been particularly slutty this trip, something he really liked. His new brand of shorts were cut closer on the thigh, in a variety of colors. Y/N had appreciated them greatly.

It was after the first round of sex that day that Y/N requested they spend some time up on the deck. The warmth was welcome to her, he could tell. It was his job to relax her, to keep her sane, and he liked to think he did a pretty good job of it- both with his words and his cock. This time, though, he could tell she had been particularly drained from work and he made it his mission to keep her as relaxed as possible. Their drinks sat on the ledge behind them, condensation sweating the glasses. Y/N’s book was abandoned with a bookmark haphazardly placed in it, her cheek pressed against his bicep.

The concept of a midday nap for her was unheard of. Harry had been with her for a while now, and in his time knowing her he had never experienced it. That’s how he knew she was really exhausted. Fingers stroked the hair from her face with his opposite hand, simply observing her as she slept. A soft vulnerability was painted on her features as her guard was completely down. In her sleep, Harry could see just how sweet she could look. In everyday life, she was a very powerful and merciless businesswoman. She was wealthy beyond his comprehension and she had gotten to that point because she took no prisoners. She had to, in order to get what she wanted. He’d seen firsthand her cold demeanor and her stoic, practiced words when she was at work and they’d be interrupted.

No one besides Harry had ever seen the woman beg for anything. No one had seen tears drip down her face when she was overstimulated, no one had seen how mushy she got after an entire night of hot sex where he took care of her. Despite the fact that they switched around who was in charge and he very much loved being a good boy for her, Harry liked seeing her soften up for him. Being exposed to a side of one of the country’s most powerful people that no one else had gotten the chance to see? It made him feel powerful all in himself.

When their arrangement had started, she had taken the reigns for the most part. She’d needed to get comfortable with him, which had taken some time. The first night he had taken over control had been a bit of a power struggle, but she took to it well after getting a real taste of what Harry could do.

Being able to comfort her, even in moments like this, made him smile.

“I can feel you staring.” Y/N voice slurred against the skin of his arm, rubbing her nose against it as she shifted to tuck her face into his neck. “Rude.”

Harry’s heart warmed with the rays of the sun, turning slightly so he was facing her before gathering up her sleepy form in his arms. “How could I not stare? When the lioness is asleep, it’s the best time to observe the beauty.” Lips pressed against her warm forehead, letting her leg tighten around his waist. Looking down, he could see some of the bruises he had left on her silky skin. Fingerprints on her thighs, a few on her hips. A sense of satisfaction went through him as he felt her lips give a chaste peck to his throat, exhaling heavily. He had done this. He got to experience this woman fully.

“Lioness? I’d say Tigress, if anything.” Her sleepy laugh made him smile. “How long was I out?” Stretching her body out, she shook for a second before curling back up against his side. It did things to his heart that he didn’t want to talk about.

“An hour.” His fingers returned to her waist, rhythmically dragging up and down the curve of it. “Passed right out. You’re exhausted, love.” It was a bit concerning. Y/N handled pressure very well, stress even better since Harry had entered her life- but he could see some cracks forming before they’d left. “M’glad you took us here. You needed a break. I worry about you.” He spoke against her hair, knowing she didn’t like it when he worried.

“I’m okay.” Her voice was soft. “I… I remembered what you’d said about feeling a breaking point coming and doing something about it before you reach it. I was there.” Opening up wasn’t easy for her in the slightest, but Harry had been her confidant for a bit now. He never judged her, always stressed the importance of mental health along with her physical. “I just wanted to go somewhere we could just relax. It’s still hard for me.”

That much, Harry knew all too fucking well. Y/N was always wound up tight. She was coiled like a snake for most of her day. Being a woman in her position, unfortunately she had to be. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as defensive because men were awful and believed they deserved her position, her success more simply because they were men. It was sick and wrong but Harry understood why she had to feel on the guard all the time.

“I know it is.” The reply was soft. “But m’teaching you, aren’t I?” He was a very relaxed person now that he didn’t have to work at the bar. He was able to work on his music, do his yoga, bake his treats, and focus on this fucking gorgeous woman’s pleasure. For some, it wouldn’t be fulfilling. For Harry? It was a dream come true. He loved teaching her how to relax.

“You’re doing a good job.” Y/N chuckled, pulling her face from the refuge of his neck. “Got a pretty boy with equally as pretty words to help me with that.” Her own fingers came up to stroke the facial hair sprouting on his face. She was a very big fan of it, he was finding out. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and she seemed mesmerized.

“Just pretty?” He smiled, feeling her finger pop into his dimple. “I’d prefer… beautiful. Gorgeous. Ruggedly handsome, even. Sexy is acceptable too.” The quips were met with a laugh from the woman, face tilting up and catching his lips.

Harry was pleasantly surprised. Y/N was shy with her kissing at times. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it- she reacted with her whole body when he kissed her- but she didn’t initiate it too much. The opportunity was not going to be wasted. His mouth responded immediately, a happy hum leaving his throat. Fingers gripped her thigh and pulled her tighter against him as she shyly brushed his tongue against hers. Impressive. She was making a lot of the first moves, and he was ecstatic about it.

She tasted like orange juice, the mimosa’s from breakfast back on her tongue. Harry was taking in every bit of it, one hand curled around the back of her neck while the other kept her thigh against his hip, languid greed encompassing the kiss as he took a bit of the control away from her. There was that buzzing in his stomach, cock thickened as her body heat outshined the sun. In the middle of the boat, he didn’t have a care in the world other than keeping her satisfied.

“Mmm.. S’sweet.” He mumbled against her lips, going back in for more. “Open that pretty mouth f’me. Don’t be shy. I want everything from you.” He was going to milk this for everything he could. Her fingers slid into his hair, the manicured nails gently grazing his scalp and making him groan loudly. Chills flushed on his skin as he pulled her closer, cock pulsing in the shorts as he felt her arch into him. She knew what that did to him, the minx.

His tongue found hers before he sucked on it lightly, fingers diggling into her thigh as he pulled back just a bit. He felt her fingers tug on his hair again, trying to pull his mouth back to her own. It was refreshing to feel her need for him. “You’re starting something, darling.” He warned slowly. “M’not going to stop it if you continue.”

“Don’t.” Was her reply, pushing herself further against him. “We can do anything.”

Harry was surprised by her response. They definitely weren’t fully alone, but no one would come out on to the deck if they weren’t requested. Y/N had asked for privacy beforehand. The crew of the large boat stayed below deck… And honestly? Harry didn’t give a fuck if someone from another boat saw them. He was going to take this opportunity to pleasure his woman.

Rolling them over, he heard her squeak as he hovered on top of her. Eyes opened, the lusty haze making her grin as his body was backlit from the sun. He looked like her own personal angel. Swollen pink mouth and scruffy face, he was sent directly from wherever wet dreams originated from to be the one that took care of her.

“Filthy girl.” He whispered. “S’that what you want? Do you want me to do whatever I want to you?” He leaned his nose against her nose, brushing the skin as she nodded.

“Yes.” The word was breathy, unlike her normal cadence.

Harry grinned that filthy grin that made Y/N’s cunt clench around nothing, the promise of more in his eyes making her blink up at him. She had worked so hard, kept it together so well.. All she wanted to do was fall apart under him. Be dirty, take a risk for once in her controlled life. They’d fucked around many places, but she could see other boats not too far away. She knew it was risky.

“Oh, sweet fucking girl. You’ll let me tug this top off?” He questioned, tugging the cups of her bathing suit down slowly to give her a chance to say no. She didn’t. He pulled the fabric over her pebbled nipples, grunting in his throat as he took a look at her beautiful tits on display for him. “Hm.. Beautiful girl. That’s what you are.” Dipping down her body, he showed no hesitation taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he heard her gasp and fingers grip his hair as he methodically pulled the sensitive nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue against it. So warm, her skin smelled like her body wash and salt from the ocean as he lathed his tongue over it again. Teeth brushed it ever so slightly as he pulled back, eliciting a gasp from her before he switched breasts with a satisfied groan.

Yes. This is what his girl needed. His sweet, overworked, filthy minded girl. His cock was dripping into his shorts, the risk of the situation and her need for him arousing him more than he had been in a long time.

“More.” She whimpered. The one word was enough to get him to pause, looking at her with his blown out eyes. Mournfully releasing her nipple again, his wet lips opened to speak to her.

“More? Are you asking for me to fuck you, pretty baby?” His low tone made her clit throb, nodding frantically as she felt him press his fingers against her covered cunt. The bathing suit did little to hide her arousal. He could feel her heat, feel the slickness of her, and he knew he needed to take her. Now. “Yeah? Y’want me to tug this to the side and slip right in?” He spoke against her lips, pressing a kiss there before moving to her jaw. “Want my cock tucked up inside you, nice n’snug?”

Fingers tugged the fabric to the side, leaving her slick cunt exposed to the ocean air. To him. She shuddered under him as she peeled her eyes open, watching in anticipation as his hand went for his shorts between them. Slipping them down just enough to expose himself, he grit his teeth. “Hm?” His voice prodded her. He was covering her body, sure, but it would be obvious what they’d be doing.

Her body jolted when he tapped the ruddy tip of his leaking cock against her cunt, nestling it between her slit while he got himself wet.

“Yes.” She had been reduced to a beg. Y/N was usually much more talkative, much more of a tease, but she couldn’t be right now. This was exactly what the woman wanted. She wanted Harry to take over and make her forget all of her troubles. “Please. Just do it.”

Harry didn’t need much convincing.

She was still a bit sensitive from their sex when they’d woken up, a broken whimper leaving her throat as she felt the tip press into her. It was embarrassing how wet she was just from this. The man had made it near impossible to not be affected by his presence and she was too tired to pretend she wasn’t.

Harry’s cock was thick and long and the perfect size to fuck her dumb. To make her mind shut up about anything other than how good it felt. After long days in the office, it’s exactly what she’s needed. It was no different now, eyes falling shut as her head rolled back, legs closifn around his hips to urge him deeper. There was no need to fake that she wasn’t greedy.

“Fuck.” Harry grunted, feeling himself bury into her. “You needed it again. My poor girl. Needed me to take care of you.” He pressed his mouth against hers again before slowly moving, grinding inside of her as her fingers tugged the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a tight, wet paradise being locked inside of her. Shallow thrusts, feeling her clench up around him, he slipped a hand under her head to hold the back of her neck.

“Needed me so bad that you’re taking my cock right in front of everyone. What a filthy, nasty girl you are. So desperate for my prick to be buried in that sweet little pussy all over again that… you don’t even care if you’re caught.” He was working her up. Dirty talk got to her. Stimulated her in a way that he knew she wouldn’t admit to loving when she wasn’t hanging off his cock, but when she was?

She ate it up. Every crumb.

Legs stayed tight around him as he moved slowly, so fucking deep that she could cry. This was what she needed. Harry was right. She was desperate and dirty and she didn’t care if people were even right next to them, she had wanted him to be inside of her more than anything. This was her escape.

“No, my dirty girl just wants to soak me again. You want people to see how wet you get around me? How filthy and sticky you leave my cock every time I pull out? It goes right down to my thighs, you know.” His velvety voice was wrapped around her head. “You’re not happy unless m’balls deep inside of you. Greedy thing.” He crooned, feeling a bit more of her slick coating his cock. Fuck, he was obsessed. “ But this is a newer development. You’ve always like the idea of someone seeing but… they definitely can right now.”

It got to him, too. His dick was swallowed in her sweet relief, but he knew he wouldn’t last too long. Despite the slow thrusts, they were deep and a bit rough, moving her slightly when he bottomed out. Each thrust was rewarded with a squeak, a moan, a whimper. He was addicted to hear what noise he got next.

“They can see it, baby. If they turn their heads, if they look over, they can see you being fucked. Clinging to me, keeping me close. There’s no way they will be able to mistake it.” Despite the fact he eas covering her and his shorts weren’t fully down, the movements made it obvious. Harry’s always been into adventurous sex, always been into exhibitionism, but it was different here. It sent a heady zing right to his cock. Being a show off, an attention whore, he was in his prime.

“Harry…” she whispered, head tilting back as he bit down on the lobe of her ear. “I can’t. M’gonna cum if you t-talk like that.” She was going to regardless. The sweet press into her spot, his spot really, was perfect. There had been worry that maybe he wouldn’t be able to get her off at the beginning of when they met- no man had properly done it before- but he had exceeded all expectations. He was hers. She was keeping this man as long as she possibly could. He was perfection. Indulging in her like this was just one of the many reasons.

“You’d cum if I was silent. Your cunt loves my cock. Doesn’t she? Loves to be fucked in any way. On your knees, your stomach, riding me… but especially when people can see it.” He licked over her neck, the filth of it making her nails dig into the back of his neck. The stab of pain made him moan, moving a bit harder. It wasn’t fast, wasn’t hurried in the slightest. It was lazy and hot and so goddamn good.

“Yes. I love it. I-I want them to see.” She admitted in a slightly slurred voice, the pleasure already building up with his thrusts. Like sparks over her body. “Want them to watch. I’m gonna-“ she couldn’t finish the word, one of the thrusts stealing her breath.

“I know you want that, my filthy slut. Such a little whore for me.” He laughed, breathy and hot as he covered her lips back with his own. He was about to cum. He could feel her begin to quiver around him. “Going to soak my cock and let them see? So fucking dirty. Letting me fuck you out on this deck, not a care about anything other than getting filled. S’gonna make me cum too.” He looked at her with hazy eyes. The sweat on her forehead, the stickiness of their skin under the hot Italian sun.

All of this was erotic.

“Let go for me, angel.” He decided to pull out the language he knew she loved, nestled against her lips. “Voglio sentirti Bella ragazza. sempre così perfetto. Lascia che mi prenda cura di te, sempre.”

Y/N couldn’t stop it. The rasp of his voice, the Italian falling off his tongue, she came with an intensity she didn’t expect. Mouth falling open as he stole her breath, she finally expelled a moan as she came all over him. Slicked up, creamy and hot, she pulled him in and tried to push him away as the orgasm was worked through.

Harry wasn’t far behind, gritting his teeth as he cursed. His balls tight, he released the heavy load into her cunt, stuttered movement of his hips making him grunt with each finishing stroke. He painted her walls white, pushing it in deep as he groaned against her mouth. Breathing each other in, the movement stopped.

Y/N was full in every sense of the word, legs loosening but staying wrapped around him as her body loosened all its limbs. It was exactly the thing she had needed.

“You okay?” He asked softly, nudging his nose back against hers before pressing chaste kisses to the corners of her lips and the heated cheeks. “Did so good. Fucking perfect, as usual.” His praises made her lips quirk in a smile, returning a chaste peck before falling back to her blissed out features.

“Mhm. Perfect, actually.” Her response was a giggle, the relaxation back on her face. “But I’d like you to stay inside me for a bit.”

Harry rose a brow, trying to keep his softening erection at bay. “Will you behave? I need the nap now.” He needed a bit of time before going again- though keeping himself warm on her cock was a very nice addition to the day.

“Probably not. But I’ll let you sleep for a bit on my chest before I bother you for some more.” She replied, carding her fingers through his slightly sweat damp hair. His forehead fell against her shoulder, shaking in a laugh as he kissed the skin.

“Anything for you.”

[punk-in-docs]

A song of rage and salty waves: part I

— Emperor Geta x reader (Salacia)

— 2.5k words

— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV

Summary; You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblog and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙

TW!! some dub con/ threat/violence/basically forced marriage/forced smut situation/Geta is such a vile human being/Macrinus is villain sorry denzel ily

You’re imprisoned in Rome.

You certainly didn’t come here of your own free will. Your father had tugged you here from Corsica. Employed clever charm with letters and schemes from his high position in the senate.

As the role of your sex; you were born to obey.

He sent you imported silken stolas the colours of cornflowers or lazurite, with gold fibulae at the shoulders. Gem inlaid jewellery, rings to decorate every finger, and earrings the sway. A golden net for your hair. Wheedled you into coming to join him. Sending servants to travel with you and take heed of your every comfort.

He made sure you dined on plump fresh fruit. Seafood of lobsters and crabs. Drank wine so rich dark it looked black.

You despise it. The stone pillars and temples. And gods of old. Eyes watch you everywhere. See you. Follow you.The governing heat and noise and sweaty heaving mass of all forms of life.

You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa.

Salacia. The ocean nymph and the being of your name. Crowned with seaweed in your hair. Sea foam dripping off your fingers. Ripped from your home, an isle by the sea, at the whim of another.

Imprisoned here in this cold marble city. A fish out of water. Gasping dry on the shore.

Pulled inland and stolen away. You can’t hear gulls or waves anymore. It sickens you. Heart pangs that throb for home.

When you arrived, pulled back your folded palla down to your shoulders. He welcomed you with open arms and fondness. Wrists linked in gold cuffs. Tugged you to his chest and embraced you warmly. Hissed in your ear - abrasive like harsh sea spray - spies are everywhere.

He needed you close by. For reasons you had yet to fathom.

You dined like spoilt deity’s. Breads and wines, fish, fruits from far regions fattened by the suns heat, and succulent meat roasted in sweet cassia spices on a spit.

He had urns of flowers - picked by the servant - placed in every room. Lilies, juniper branches still bearing dark fruit, lavender, oleanders.

Companions join him and he is boastful of you. A nubile creature offered placement at a table of old muddled men. He introduces you to trusted friends and advisors in the senate.

One man in particular takes keen interest as to your recent arrival. His name was Macrinus. Man of information and resources. Dealt in cunning and cruelty though you found him sincerely charming. Your father watched you with a desperate eye.

Macrinus bore a smile so dazzling and blinding it made you dizzy; made think of the sun god. Apollo and his light cast across golden wheat fields. Notes of fine music. He sipped his wine slow, as he learned the flavour of your name. Where you came from. Understanding the rolling sea foam in your veins.

There’s a game to be held at the coliseum. He will have your father as his guest - and you by a very pretty extension. He nods at you; his eyes glimmer like pooled liquid gold in the half lit dark. It almost makes you feel safe.

They dine and drink into the small hours. Yet you slip away.

You watched this awful city out your window that night in your silk dress the colour of night time tidal waves. The air is stale. Carrion to you. Hot. Full of dust and sweat. Here, It smells like mulberry trees and a green garden waiting for blessed rain.

You couldn’t hear the sea. Or your sisters. Your mothers humming as she wove cloth and mended clothes. And you wept.

Salt found in your tears to be your only sacred comfort of home.

~

You are soft to this hard stone city. The coliseum is magnificent. As large as it is those who hold their powerful fists over its rule. Clutched in gold. Fine for the rich. Deadly for the slaves and warriors thrown into the pit at the whim of others. Met with carnivore teeth and sand and death.

The senators, generals, and the rich merchants watch from their perch, up among the gods they serve, presiding in shade and clothed in perfumed silks and jewels. Ladies and men both.

Your hair took hours to fasten in its current coiled style. Plaited and weaved. Your dress is the colour of the softest blue shore. Your servant lavished your arms and fingers in golden finery. A serpent cuff coiled around your arm. Skin draped in lemon oil because it’s the small piece of Corsica you carry here with you. Serenity to push against this place of gore, butchery and death.

You find yourself seated here amongst giants. Macrinus is seated one side. Your father the other. He fondly lays his hand across yours in gentle touch.

His palm is damp. Gold rings wet.

His face looks haggard with age. The lines by his eyes more prominent. Rome is poisoning him. The golden apple just a fingertip shy of his reach. St Bartholomew flayed and stripped of skin piece by piece. Schemes and plots lay thick in his mind like rot. Sweat beads down across his brow and the thinning salt pepper of his hair.

He says something to Macrinus that you’re too absorbed to hear. It’s low. Dragged through a growl. He appears unmoved, with a slow flick of his eyes to you. Watching this finery and loudness devour you. Your eyes so full wide and round. Salt and innocence entwined.

You all rise when the emperors pass by, Geta and Caracalla, who stride in, garbed in gold and cloaks. Come to take their rightful place at the mouth of the box where you are seated.

They are like twin suns to the Roman people. Lion gold hair kissed by fire. They burn and twist and shine with it. Make noises like gold coins that clack when they move. Strung in riches and golden crowns of olive leaves and branches.

Together they make you think of Romulus and Remus. Raised rabid by wolves. And they certainly make an impression. You’ve heard tale of the voracious nature of the blood sport they all but live for. Faces limned in the glory of gore.

The crowd cheers for them. They nod and wave but it appears barbed. The games begin with a wave of applause and a regal hand.

Caracalla twists and casts an eye in your direction. Seeing new meat.

The way you sit sedately and can’t cast your mind into the butchery and violence happening below. The clash of steel. The hollow squelching cries that proceed death. The spill of viscera and the scatter of brain matter from split heads.

Each new gash or split in skin made them smile. The taint of blood. Metallic sour. Spilling of offal and exposed bone.

He tilts his head like a clever wolf. Eyes darken. His sneer as terrible as a skulls. He leans across and whispers something to his brother with a knock of his arm to gain attention.

Another set of wolfish eyes join the first in hooking to your skin. Silly soft girl. Made of gentle sea breezes and lapping blue waves calm and soft enough to wade in. Pearl shining in moonlight. So watery and weak. So good. Untouchable.

Geta swept his gaze on you from head to toe. Appraising you hungrily through greedy eyes. The beauty of your figure in that soft folds of that stola. The gold that crushed your neck. Broaches at your fair shoulders. Hair glistening and finely arranged.

He liked the way you winced when another sword blow came. The pull of your brows and how you had to look away. He wanted you gathered up in his lap; fingers crushing your jaw as he turned your head; force you to watch as the men cleaved at each other and drew blood. Hacked off limbs. Laugh at your revulsion.

Looking at you sat there; He has an urge to take his dagger, slit that fine silk from your shoulders and bare your real beauty. Grab it off you and snatch your dress down. Spoil himself on your curves. Grab your breasts. He’s sure you’ve tits that even a goddess would envy. He’d reel you in by grabbing your ass that definitely needs a spank and some attention.

You’re even prettier than some of the finest whores he’s had grace his bed. They never kept his interest too long. Too entwined in filth and sin like him; you look pure as a vestal virgin.

He likes that. He wants to pluck it off you and spoil it.

You don’t dare meet his eyes. Of course you don’t. He’s an emperor. He could have you executed for looking at him wrongly. Instead; you wring your hands in your lap and squirm. Close your eyes tighter with every dying wail.

He turns back to the fight. As do you. A gasp flies from your mouth when you draw your eyes to one of the measly soldiers in the arena. Your father left his seat to stand, mouth gaping.

You saw the familiar arrangement of strong limbs. Garbed in warriors clothing. The way his arms shook holding a sword. Inexperienced and struggling. The fight was not fair. The same head of hair that matched your own.

Your oldest brother.

Macrinus grinned. “He’s not my finest fighter. But I wager he’ll be good sport.” He smirks.

Your father turned, cursed the gods, and exploded with venomous rage. Flew for the man with his fists. Grabbed his clothing. You tried to restrain the storm of his temper - but then you’d got that trait from somewhere hadn’t you? - an ocean thrashing wild and free. Terrifying in its rage.

“You promised me.” Your father roared. Spittle flying.

“I never promised to protect your traitor of a son. Let us see if the gods spare him. Yes?” Macrinus commented.

You couldn’t take your eyes from the pit. Nor could your father. He clutched to you like he could barely stand. Weakened and shrinking. Hand a vice on your shoulder. It burned like the sting of sun but you couldn’t shrug him off.

Your brother was meeting with an opponent far larger than he was. A Retiarius. Helmet, trident, dagger and a net.

Of which had currently knocked your brother to the blood dusted dirt. Spearing the trident deep into his thigh. Pinning him to earth like a bug. His cry of pain ringing out. Blood sheeted down one side of his head. His scream is the most horrible thing you’d ever heard.

You can’t help it. Where you’re stood, you cry out. It pours forth from you.

The Retiarius loomed over your bother like a terrible storm cloud. Looking up at the stands for direction. The whole audience cheered and screamed for more.

Geta stood up and the crowd bayed. He sneered at the sight before him. All the power of a god; crammed into a mortal man.

He raised his arm. And hesitated for a moment. Before he smirked. And pointed his thumb right up.

Death.

Your father wailed. The huge lumbering gladiator descended onto your brother. Flinging the net off and cutting his throat in one fast slice. Blood poured and pooled around lifeless eyes. Stained the sand.

Macrinus stood to his feet and clapped along with everyone else. The emperors’ laughed like hyenas at the sight. Blood and pain only made their smiles grow.

Before you knew what was happening, the palace guards had you and your father surrounded. Hands viced around your arms. Your shoulders. Your father too.

Traitor. He decried. A traitor in the senate. The tarpeian rock.

Just like his now dead son. People’s poised against the glory of Rome. Against Caracalla and Geta. Death to all.

Macrinus spoke harshly to the guards to release you. He backhanded you across your cheek. Your eye felt like it was going to burst. Cheek flamed with fire. Lip cut and bleeding down your chin from his ring.

He then wasted little time in digging his fingers into your finely done hair. Hauled you along screaming. Tears streaming.

Your father could only watch, limbs wrenching forwards in terror to help, as Macrinus marched you across the stands to where they sat.

He threw you to the ground like a feral animal. Tumbled you onto your knees. Skimmed your hands. As you squirmed and cried at your body twisted to his cruelty.

“Your majesties. I have personally uncovered a traitor in your court. Senator Aurelius. Not only was his first born placed in rebellion against Rome. But he himself has been sowing seeds of treason in your senate. I bring you his filthy kin as recompense…” He spat at the Emperors. Releasing your mussed hair to throw you to their feet.

They examined you as one would a creature. Nothing of humanity left. Devoid of any feeling. You crawled slowly to your elbows. Tried to claw away sobs. Raising up but not daring to look at them. You weren’t worthy. You feared them.

Geta was the one who rose slowly to his feet. Coming to stand before you. “We are most grateful for your revelation, Macrinus. You will be rewarded for such loyal service.” Though he spoke to him, his eyes never left you.

You father shouted and cried pleas. They go unheard. He snaps to the guards who hold him. “Silence that treacherous snake-“ he barks. They beat him into submission.

You stay cowering on the ground. In amongst the gritty dirt, and the blood like those slaves and gladiators. That’s how they saw you. That’s how much you were worth. Held in the same regard as the dirt on their shoes.

You feel a ring clad hand tip a finger under your chin. Blood dripping down onto that digit as he made you raise your head to look at him until your neck hurt.

“What is your name, pretty little traitor-“ He sneers. Because that is all you are. They’ve tarred and feathered you with the same brush.

You give it to him through tears that run freely. You give this awful golden haired emperor with dark lecherous eyes your name.

“Salacia.” You cry. Voice watery and cloaked in heavy salty sobs. Lips parted. So soft and pliable. Lovely and ripe and waiting for him. A gift from the gods-

He tilts his head down at you. Looking like some sun gold lion. Showing his canines in a cruel white smile.

“Imprison them. Both.” He smirks.

He thinks he may have them bring him your fathers head on a platter. Strangulation seemed too soft. Too forgiving. He had to make an example of you.

He had a particular way in mind for your fate. He watched you get led away crying as he sucked your sweet blood off his thumb.

You tasted like salt and sea foam

~

Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people—

@indouloureux @trashmouth-richie @atabigail @lunatictardis @waywardrose @ceriseheaven @hillarymurray4 @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @roosterisdaddy36 @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @morganamoonstone @gvtosbith @munsonswhore @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-titties @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @usedtobecooler @peachesandfiends @littlelioncub43 @heyndrix @babybluebex @blueywrites @joejoequinnquinn @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @ddejavvu @sharp-and-swift @chaptersleftunwritten

[melobin]

vacation with sungchan? seems like a dream ..

the way he’d plan absolutely everything in advance and make sure you have the most incredible time. taking you somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, doting on you and giving you everything you could ever ask for the entire time. the days out, the sweet, romantic dates he takes you on at night just to take you back to your villa after and fuck you senseless.

being in a hot place, on the beach nonetheless, sungchan would rarely actually have his shirt on, which means he’s constantly on display for you. every little mark on you left on his body from the night before would be on display too, the hickies, the bites, the long scratch marks down his back that came from you digging your nails into his skin as he fucked you braindead.

would let you cover him in sunscreen and end up getting hard at the way your fingers feel against his skin, that only gets worse when you let him do the same back to you. would only lead to him discretely finger fucking you on the beach, his fingers in the bottoms of your bikini, pushed deep inside of your sopping cunt, letting you dig your nails into his skin and leave behind red marks. cooing at you quietly to cum around his fingers and let him have a taste of his favourite pussy.

sex would be guaranteed every day, multiple times a day, sungchan lacks the ability to keep his hands off of you and if he caught you staring at him whilst he was shirtless, water droplets slowly dripping down his skin then we’ll, he’d have to take you home as quickly as possible to fuck you. wouldn’t even take your bikini off of you, too engrossed in the way your tits bounce under the thin material and how the bottoms feel rubbing against his cock with each sharp thrust he makes into you.

but it’s a vacation and it’s sungchan .. he’d have his softer moments with you. of course, he’d end up manhandling you and fucking you stupid but he’d be soft too, letting you kiss every inch of his skin whilst he tells you he loves you, letting you sink down on his thick cock and ride him slowly under the moonlight that just happened to seep through the tiniest gap in the curtain. tells you he loves you endlessly before you two end up in the shower where he has you pressed against the wall and his cock wedged deep inside of you again.

[svt-x]

From Italy, with love x (Teaser)

pairing: Detective Mingyu x female reader

summary: Injured on the job and unable to work for 6 months, Mingyu embarks on a solo trip to Italy. He crosses paths with you once again, a familar face from his past he went on a few dates with. As it turns out, you’re also the owner of the dream holiday villa that he’s renting for the summer.

genre/warnings: second chances au (they’ve met briefly before), fluff, angst, smut

teaser warnings: shirtless mingyu wearing nothing but a towel lol, minor swearing

teaser wc: 467 

a/n: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fic, I’ve been having Mingyu brainrot since forever & was inspired to write this after seeing him in that police outfit. A special thanks to @wintaerbaer for helping me with this and being so supportive and encouraging🤍

"AAAAAH! Why's it not working?"

He aggressively fiddles with the hot water valve of the shower in a futile attempt to rinse out the shampoo that continues to burn his eyes. When he realises that his efforts are ending in vain, Mingyu resorts to cold water, letting out a squeal as the icy droplets hit his chiseled body.

"Fuck, it's so cold."

With his eyes still tightly shut, he frantically runs his hands through his hair and over his body, trying to wash off the bubbles that remain. Soon after, he grabs the white towel he brought in with him and loosely wraps it around his hips. Walking out of the bathroom, he lets out a sigh as he enters the kitchen, opens the fridge, and chugs down the glass of fresh orange juice he left to chill earlier.

This is not how you expected to be spending your afternoon off—letting your tenant know that they will be without hot water for the rest of the day. Joshua is currently out of town, leaving you to deliver the message. You would have rang or texted, but your laptop, which holds the tenant’s details, has been sent for repair. This would usually mean you need to go into the office, but the villa is closer to your apartment, so instead, you take this as an opportunity to meet your new tenant for the summer.

The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle breeze, carrying hints of rosemary and lavender, envelops you as you walk up the pathway to the villa. The door is slightly ajar, and you bring up your fist to knock.

“Hello, is anyone in? It’s y/n, the landlord. Can I come in?”

When you don’t hear a response, you apprehensively walk in and head towards the kitchen, calling out once more.

“Hello?”

As you turn the corner, you’re met with the most perfectly-sculpted, muscular back you’ve ever seen. The man, still unaware of your presence, places a drink back in the fridge and closes the door.

You stutter when you finally speak up.

“O..oh sorry! I didn’t mean to just-”

Mingyu turns around to see the owner of the voice, you, visibly blushing as he notices your eyes scanning his physique. The towel does a poor job of covering the veins that snake across his lower body, and his deeply-tanned skin glistens, highlighting his huge muscles that are hard to miss.

You finally look up, and time seems to slow down for a moment as your eyes meet; small but memorable fragments of the brief time you spent together flash before your eyes, and you quite literally can’t believe Kim Mingyu is stood in front of you, naked with water dripping down his body.

“Mingyu?”

“Y/N?”

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion was not a "corrupt" magistrate.

Hello again. Just more opinion about my favorite battle buddy. Warning, trigger words in use. Game spoilers.

It's not quite set in stone that Astarion really was a magistrate, but we are going to go with the idea he was for this thought pocket. Also this is just game as it is now info use.

I don't believe he was corrupt magistrate. There were a few things in the game that called that out, but one in particular really set it in stone for me.

His response to the Ansur lair puzzle regarding justice.

Astarion: “Mercy?! Please. Justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.”

This makes me think he was a bit of a hard ass as a magistrate, but not corrupt. Had he been dealing dirty in the background I really feel like this answer would have been more dismissive or flippant. But he is pretty intent that this is his stance. Very, iv said this a thousand times, type feel.

I think, he was more of a by the book, law is law type. You murder and rape you swing from the gallows. You steal from a shop keeper, you do time. Period.

My theory is, he got beat up because he wasn't lenient with a member of the Gur that was on trial.

"Leniency?! You have been found guilty of negligence resulting in the death of a innocent! You are owed nothing!"

Could you hear it?

"But he talks about being hedonistic and indulgent all the time. "

Yes, but most patriar level citizens were spoiled entitled brats that did what they desired. Have you talked to some of them in the upper city? Yeeesh.

Was he arrogant? Most likely. Prejudice? Obviously (insert gnomes here). But being a haughty jerk does not make one evil.

Sex, nudity, orgies, parties, over indulging etc are not taboo in Faerun. If everybody is consenting to be being naked in a fountain, hopefully in a private villa garden, its not a crime. He talks about that like its a memory, but I like to think his wine drunk giggly ass was actually in that fountain.

If you want to have a little rabbit hole fun, break down the name. Faerun = Fae Run = Run by the Fae. And last I checked, fairies were always down for some naked in the water time. I mean, come on, you can go to pound town with a bear. (No offence, Halsin.) You think they are going to draw the line at how may wieners you can have in the same pot? I think not.

I think the criminal behavior came after he was turned. Cazador may have been targeting him, but not because they were involved. But maybe due to him looking like his old master Vellioth? And he took advantage of a situation. Who knows, lots of ideas there.

"But he's always getting onto Tav for doing the "right" thing."

Yup, Tav is being too trusting and getting too involved with other peoples problems. Why is this an issue for Astarion? Kindness was what got him entombed for a year. He cared about that sweet mans life and was severally punished for it. Its akin to being mauled by a dog and then watching people just reach out a pet every one they see. The anxiety of that attack is still there and it paints every encounter with its opinion. Danger.

"He's not smart enough."

Oh I bet he is. You can be whip smart at a subject and socially akward at the same time. I'm very good at my job. I know it inside and out and can give you any detail, rule, configuration at the drop of a hat in the most professional and proficient way possible. But ask me to be eloquent in a social situation? HA! You are better off asking a rock to fart. Unrelated.

"But he wants to ascend, and that's evil."

That is more about who is is after years of torment and abuse. Not before.

I think the rogue role was adopted to stay alive while hunting. And what a gods awful fate to be turned into the thing you hated the most. A criminal.

I'm sure Caz was real tickled by that. Expletive Adjective.