#and all the Italian lingerie they picked up along the way ends up in his 🤭
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Where did Bradley and Sweet Girl go for their honeymoon? I can stop thinking about them 🩵
They spend 3 weeks in Italy! They start in the North with Verona and Venice before working their way South, making stops in Florence and Rome, before ending in the Amalfi Coast.
They’re drinking good coffee and wine and eating pasta! There are lots of late nights and lazy mornings in bed. The morning light really is different in Italy.
Bradley is a bit of a history buff, so he is dropping tidbits as they explore Venice. (And while he’s happy for the couple they see get engaged under the Bridge of Sighs he’s also side eyeing it because that history is terribly unromantic). On their third night there, they both get tipsy off a couple bottles of Bardolino wine, and she flashes him on the Ponte delle Tette and later they get wolf whistled at because that secluded corner he’s crowded her into to make out afterwards isn’t that secluded. (Amóre!) 🥰
In Florence, they’re holding hands as they check out the Uffizi, picnicking along the river, and getting gelato at least twice a day. They buy Mav a leather jacket at the leather market as a thank you for watching Duck while they’re away. She surprises him with a cooking class. They really pack in all the exploring and cultural experiences in the first two weeks.
And the last week at the Amalfi Coast is spent at the seaside swimming and relaxing. Bradley gets to read a book cover to cover for the first time in what feels like years. And on one of their last full days there they hire a boat for the day, and take in the views with an aperol spritz (or two or three).
Bradley’s curls get all sunkissed in the golden glow of the Italian sunshine and he gets freckles on his shoulder. Even though she has the brush on powder sunscreen stick in her purse, his nose still gets sunburned and stays pink for most of the trip.
He loves seeing her sundress collection, and she thrives with him wearing those 5 inch inseam shorts. But she really does him in when they go to one of the beach clubs and he sees her high cut bikini bottoms with her butterfly tattoo on full display. (She absolutely knew what she was doing with that one, especially since now there’s a recently tattooed BB tucked next to them 🤗)
#but really Bradley in those euro cut shorts does something to me#the souvenirs for their family and friends ends up in her suitcase#and all the Italian lingerie they picked up along the way ends up in his 🤭#Bradley and sweet girl#inbox 💌#answered asks#let’s talk headcanons
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Taking the WHB demons thrifting
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
Characters: Paimon, Bimet, Eligos, Barbatos, Beelzebub, Amon, Morax, Ronove, Andrealphus, Vassago
A/N: First time writing for Vassago so let's hope I can nail his personality down since we didn't really get much of him the Beleth/Bephie event.
༺☆༻
The best one to go with, honestly
You could be looking through a rack for hours and yet, they manage to find something cute and in your size in the same rack
Will hype you up to buy something a bit out of your comfort zone
A thrifting trip can't be complete without a lunch before and a slushie or a visit to a café afterwards
༺☆༻
"Tell me why we're buying rags after some hobos instead of buying something nice and unworn, again?"
You've made a mistake, I'm afraid
Even designer outlets aren't good enough for Bimet
Your explanations about how more fun and good for the planet it is fall on deaf ears
༺☆༻
Another amazing patootie to choose to go with
It's harder for him to find something he likes, but once he sees the stuff you like, he's hoarding that shi at your feet
Snacks, snacks, snacks!
Honestly tho, Eli and Pai is the best fashion duo ever
༺☆༻
For someone who is naked most of the time, Barbs enjoys shopping for clothes a lot
He's especially interested in eye-catching prints
Doesn't really care about what you like, but what he would like on you (again, he literally wants you to be naked all the time, so what's the point of picking out clothes for you?)
Withe very item he wants to get the criteria are: how easy is it to remove? and will it make Barbatos look too good, making Leviathan hang him out of envy?
༺☆༻
This fucker tagged along only bc you promised to take him to some restaurant he hasn't tried before after you're done
*sigh* I hate to say it, but he would try to smell the articles of clothing for any remaining scent of the previous owner
You better hold him by the scruff of his neck so he doesn't do anything
"I like this top, I'm gonna buy it." "Oh? Lemme see *sniff sniff* Ooh, this belonged to someone who liked italian food and mostly matched it with (some other article of clothing)!"
༺☆༻
Amon, doesn't really have much of an input
Most likely he'll just stay parked somewhere, leaning against a wall and sleepily watch you browse the racks
When you ask for his opinion, you always get the same answer: "Looks good on you, love"
If you find something he might like, he'll have more to say, but is mostly happy that you want to get him something
༺☆༻
Aw, this cutie only went with you because you mentioned you wanna go to a cat café afterwards
Ironically, Morax ends up getting more things than you
The amount of fluffy and comfy sweaters that he can wear at home is enough to fill two bags
Visit to the cat café goes even better
You barely couldn't even leave bc the cats kept surrounding Morax
༺☆༻
As soon as you enter the store, he's immediately making his way to the lingerie section
"Hey, how about this? You'd look good in this and wouldn't have to be mad at me for ripping it apart."
To be fair, his style is on point and you end up buying the things he found for you
But to disappoint him, you also don't want him to rip thise things too, especially since they're unique and not from some store where you can buy more
༺☆༻
Oh no, this poor baby is trying to help you find nice things, but he can only pick them out by touch :(
He always brings you the ugliest things and it hurts you to tell him that they might feel nice, but look horrible
You end up buying some of the stuff anyway, so you can at least wear them at home while spending time with Andre
On the other hand, you find some nice suits for him, but he hates the texture of them
༺☆༻
Somehow, going thrifting with Vassago, you come out with outfits that would make a profesional stylist jealous
This man can take anything and make it look fancy af
Hell, you could give him a tablecloth and he'll make you look like a greek statue
In the end you both end up having a full bag of things
You have a bag of stuff for yourself and Vassago has a bag full of stuff for Agares
#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb paimon#whb bimet#whb eligos#whb barbatos#whb beelzebub#whb amon#whb morax#whb ronove#whb andrealphus#whb vassago
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NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio
words // 2383
warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons
pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)
author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg
request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now
summary // self explanatory
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.
“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.
“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.
I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.
Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.
“Do you love me?”
“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”
“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.
“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.
“Nothing, just the mess you made.”
“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”
“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”
As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.
When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.
I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.
You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.
A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)
“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.
He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.
“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.
“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He likes to fuck you while watching porn.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.
Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.
Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)
Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.
Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.
“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.
“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.
“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.
Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.
“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.
His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.
“I���m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.
“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.
Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.
“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.
“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”
If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.
“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.
“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.
“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”
“Mhmn.”
“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.
why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.
Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.
(small mention to my last fic little puppet)
“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.
It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.
“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.
“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.
The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.
tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost
#maneskin imagine#maneskin fanfiction#maneskin#måneskin x reader#måneskin imagine#måneskin fanfic#måneskin#ethan torchio imagine#ethan torchio
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TEMPTATION IN ITALY
RATING: R/smut (overstimulation, light spanking, bit of choking, pure tender filth)
WORD COUNT: 9.4k
CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry, italy!harry
MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG
a/n: it’s a Temptation extra for @bfharry ‘s boyfriendathon!!!!! i’ve been mulling this concept over since i finished Temptation, and I’m so excited to finally have it written and done. s/o to liv for the push to write it, @harrysclementines for checking out my italian and inspiring many parts of this, and to my best friend a***** for being the one to take me to lucca, where this fic is set. harry’s house in this fic is based of hers.
if you haven’t read TEMPTATION, you can do so here: part one | part two | part three
“Cherry,” he mumbled, her nickname falling from his lips, dripping with desire as he stepped towards her. “You have to let me buy this.”
She leveled her gaze to his, trying to play with him, her favorite activity. “And why is that?”
His fingers ran over the see-through lace, the pebbles of her nipples visible through the material. “Because I can’t promise I won’t rip it off you later, and I know how much you hate it when I ruin your underwear.”
Nora’s breath caught in her throat at his words, body keening under the his touch. “I’ll allow it,” she replied, voice hoarse in her throat. “As long as you let me choose where you fuck me.”
or
Harry buys Nora some lingerie and it leads to some overstimulation on countertops in Italy
pls reblog and share with your friends 💕
Nora’s eyes swept across Harry, the sight of him curled up next to her on the bed bringing a lazy smile to her face as usual. Sometimes she was overwhelmed by how much she simply wanted to spend every waking moment with him, even doing things as simple as this: lying in bed next to him, the sheets pushed down to his waist, one of his arms across her torso, his face pressed into the pillow next to her, breath fluttering from his lips.
The lack of air conditioning in Italy had taken her a while to get used to, but she had finally adjusted and now loved lying in bed, completely naked with Harry, breeze from the open window next to the bed blowing across their bodies. Their other friends had been there for the first two weeks, Nash, Niall, Maddy, Lauren, Taylor, and a couple of Harry’s other frat brothers who Nora had gotten to know in recent months. It was August and they’d all finished their summer internships and decided to take advantage of Harry’s family house in Lucca, which was empty and waiting for them. Everyone had packed up left the morning before, and now it was just her and Harry left in the big house for another week. After that, they were heading back to campus to move into their rooms for senior year and back to reality.
Being there in Italy, with him, the simplicity of life, made her love him more than she could ever imagined and the last thing she wanted to do was leave.
Suddenly, she felt pressure on her side and Harry’s eyes were fluttering open, his green irises meeting hers. “Morning, baby,” he mumbled, lifting his head to press a kiss to her shoulder. “Been awake long?”
She shook her head and rolled over so she was facing him, and traced a finger down the side of his face. A lazy smile flickered across his lips at the feeling. “Not too long. Using the time to watch you without you getting all antsy.”
He tugged her body flush to his and she giggled as he licked at her neck. “Mhm, you’re sweaty.”
“H, that’s gross.”
“No it’s not, just sweat.” He licked at her neck again and she squirmed. “You sweat when I fuck you and have no problem with me licking at you then, so what’s the difference?”
How did the words fuck you make her want him immediately. “Your brain is disgusting,” she said, pushing at him. “Come on, I’m hungry and it’s your turn to cook breakfast.”
His hands pulled on her as she tried to get up, but she slipped through his grasp and he fell back against the bed. “You just like watching me make you breakfast.”
Nora shrugged, and pulled an old DSig shirt out of their chest of drawers, which had become a mixed mess over the weeks. He had ended up in one of her shirts without realizing it, much to the amusement of Nash and the boys, but Nora found it endearing, watching him pull at her oversized button down before realizing the reason it didn’t fit right was because it wasn’t his, but not taking it off. “You’re a good cook.”
Finally, Harry pushed at the sheets and stood up, his completely naked body drawing her eyes in. “Thanks, baby. Pass me some pants?”
She threw a pair of briefs at him and he pulled them on, the material barely covering any of his body, but she didn’t mind in the least. “I’ll start the coffee.”
“As if you know how to work the machine.”
“It’s not my fault it’s all in Italian!”
He laughed and followed her downstairs to the kitchen. She flicked the radio on, Italian ballads filling the room. She loved the kitchen, the simple white cabinets and granite countertops, wooden table and chairs pushed to the side, an island that she usually sat at as Harry cooked. There were windows all the way around, which she opened and let the sunlight in, birds chirping outside.
Harry’s family home was up in the hills outside Lucca, a narrow one-way road winding past houses and an abandoned old church. The house itself was white with multi-colored stone, tall and slim-shaped trees outside next to a small fountain that had a table next to it where they ate dinner most nights. Inside, the house was two stories plus a basement, five bedrooms to properly house Harry’s extended family during the holidays, and two small living rooms overstuffed with books and comfortable couches for mid-afternoon naps. Outside, there was a pool that overlooked the rolling green hills, and a bathhouse with an extra bedroom. All in all, it was heaven and Nora never wanted to leave.
Harry hummed along to some Italian Top 40s song while he scrambled some eggs and toasted two pieces of toast and Nora put together some fruit to go along with it, grabbing some fresh peaches from the bowl. Harry’s neighbor had a peach tree in their front yard and had brought by some the previous day and they were delicious. She managed to get the coffee machine working after bugging Harry for reminders on which button did what, and poured two cups for them, setting one next to the stove for Harry as he finished up cooking.
They ate outside on the patio, a pair of sunglasses balanced on Harry’s curls as they basked in the morning sunshine. “It’s so quiet,” he said to her after setting down his fork, a finished plate in front of him. “Like our friends, but it’s nice to be just us for a bit.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, scooting closer to him on the bench at the table so he could place his arm around her shoulders. “Now I can love on you any time I want.”
“Oh?” Harry ducked down and looked at her, a coy smile on his face. “And you couldn’t before? I seem to remember plenty of loving—“
“Shut up,” she said, swatting at his chest, and he chuckled. “They just always made fun of me, or you. Now no one is going to be whining about us making out in the pool.”
Harry kissed her temple, and then lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “Right about that, love.” She picked up her abandoned peach and took a bite, the juices dribbling down her chin. “What do you want to do today? Swim or go into town?”
Nora considered the options, before deciding on town. “Can we rent bikes again? And I want a gelato.”
“Sure, baby. Want to go get changed and I’ll wash up?” She nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips chastely before scampering into the house. She took a quick shower, wanting to start the day fresh, and put some sunscreen on her skin which had grown darker from the sun over the past few weeks. Harry came into their room as she was fumbling through their clothes, trying to find a pair of specific pair of shorts.
“Have you seen my denim shorts?” She asked him, not even looking up. “The ones with the longer fringe at the back?”
She felt his hands on her hips, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. “No, not since you wore them last. Gotta be here somewhere—you didn’t put them in the wash, did you?”
His longer hair tickled at her cheek and she smiled at the feeling. “I didn’t. Fuck—I’ll find them. Go get ready, you menace.”
With a squeeze to her hips, he moved away to the bathroom so he could wash his face and brush his teeth. Nora found her shorts at the back of the drawer, and pulled that and a white tank top on, keeping her clothes simple and light so she didn’t sweat through them immediately. Harry ended up in a white t-shirt and grey trousers, a hair clip attached to the waist for his longer locks, a handkerchief tied around his neck that she tugged on to bring his lips to hers.
He fiddled with her hand on the center console as he drove into town, the radio on low volume filling the silence in the car, windows open as they passed houses on the hill. She watched the sights go by, wondering how such a beautiful place could exist. They parked the car right outside the old city walls and walked the distance to the bike shop where they had rented them before.
“Due biciclette per favore,” Harry said to the man in the shop. Nora thumbed through a guidebook on the counter as Harry spoke to the man, their conversation in Italian passing right over her head.
“Per te e la tua ragazza?” The man replied.
“Sì.”
“Lei è piuttosto bella.”
“Tieni le mani lontane da lei!” Harry laughed as he said the words, some joke probably passing between them.
“Sì, sì, certo. Lei è troppo buona per te, lo sai.”
“Lo so.”
Nora swung a leg over her bike and pushed her sunglasses into place, waiting for Harry to get himself together behind her. “What were you two talking about?” She asked as he adjusted his pants so they didn’t get caught on the chains.
“You,” he responded nonchalantly.
“Me?”
He looked up at her and nodded. “He said you were gorgeous, and I told him to keep his hands off my girl. He said you were too good for me.”
Nora scoffed and pushed off the street, pedaling with Harry next to her. “Got that the wrong way ‘round.”
He gave her a smile, and then moved into tourist mode, pointing out the landmarks he had shown her. He knew how much she loved history and that she wouldn’t mind hearing it all again, so he told her stories about the old jail cells and the city walls, the wide gravel tree-lined paths full of other pedestrians and dogs on leashes. They talked about Italian politics, since Harry actually read the newspaper and kept up on the news. He told her old stories about his family visiting and Harry getting lost in the streets, before finally finding his mom at a gelato shop where he went because he wanted something sweet. When they had made a loop around the city, they turned into the streets, carefully maneuvering through the crowds and avoiding the streets with the expensive shops, where people gathered. Instead, they stuck to the back roads and they’d stop every once in a while so Harry could take photos on a film camera he had bought before they’d left the States. He wanted to take it up as a hobby, and thought where was a better place to try it out than Italy?
Nora sent photos of the yellow and tan exteriors of the buildings to send to her mother, one in an endless stream of photos that made her mom jealous of her trip. When they got hungry, they stopped for gelato, and sat outside at a shop next to a bunch of kids who were speaking rapidly in Italian. Harry kept stealing bites from Nora’s, but she shoved his hands away, reminding him that he got his own for a reason. His fingers were sticky when he pulled her chin towards him to kiss her, and his lips tasted like his lemon gelato.
They ditched the bikes in favor of walking around, and they wove in and out of the shops, Nora trying on clothes that Harry picked out before objecting to the price and refusing to let Harry pay for them for her. They tried on sunglasses at one of the street vendors and Harry got some, a pair of brown wide-frame glasses that he tucked into his shirt. He bought a leather notebook that resembled the ones that he wrote lyrics in, and Nora decided to get one of her own, telling Harry she needed to start journaling to remember all the good memories they shared. He took photos of her against a pink building, smelling flowers in a courtyard, and just walking in front of him. In his eyes, it was impossible to not feel beautiful, Nora thought to herself.
Somehow they ended up in an Italian lingerie shop, much to Harry’s joy. “Baby, pleaseee…” He held a white lace set up in front of her, the material mostly mesh and lace, basically full see through. Most times, Nora might have refused him, but after a day spent solely in his company, Nora was wrapped around his finger, just as he was around hers. And the look in his eyes of desire and mischief had her smiling at him.
“Fine,” she replied, and tugged him back to the dressing room with her, much to the amusement of the saleswoman.
He stood outside of the room while she changed, pushing off her shorts and shirt and toying with the delicate material. “Got it on?” He asked, voice low through the flimsy door.
“Almost.” She tugged at the bra straps, situating the cups on her chest. In the mirror, her hair was a mess of sweat and wind, cascading around her shoulders in curls, her face flushed from the sun. She pushed a strand behind her ear and hoped Harry would like it. “Okay,” she said, unlocking the door.
“Thank god, didn’t know if I—fuck.” His words stopped the moment he stepped inside and set his eyes on her body. Quickly, he shut the door behind him, locking it, their bodies close in the narrow dressing room. Nora stood there as his eyes criss-crossed over her body, taking in the sight in front of him. Her shy smile, her sunkissed skin, brown eyes that stared up at him. “Cherry,” he mumbled, her nickname falling from his lips, dripping with desire as he stepped towards her. “You have to let me buy this.”
She leveled her gaze to his, trying to play with him, her favorite activity. “And why is that?”
His fingers ran over the see-through lace, the pebbles of her nipples visible through the material. “Because I can’t promise I won’t rip it off you later, and I know how much you hate it when I ruin your underwear.”
Nora’s breath caught in her throat at his words, body keening under the his touch. “I’ll allow it,” she replied, voice hoarse in her throat. “As long as you let me choose where you fuck me.”
Harry’s lip tucked between his teeth at her words. “Yeah? Want to choose where I take you?” She nodded, and his fingers drifted over her skin, barely touching it and raising goosebumps in his path. “It’s a deal, baby. Now take it off so I can buy it and get you home.”
Harry followed Nora on her heels, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the house as he kept trying to grab at her hips as she moved through the hallways. Her curls bouncing as she swept your head back and forth, scampering away every time he got closer to her. Seeing her dark hair flutter against the white walls had Harry feeling like he was in a movie, moving in slow motion after the love of his life, barely able to keep her in his grasp.
They didn’t bother closing the doors or the windows in the bedroom, Harry pressing her against the wall with a gasp from her mouth. His lips danced down her neck, sucking and pulling at her skin, his name wet on her tongue. Hands pulled at his hair and fell to his shirt, her fingers scrambling push it up before he leaned back to help her, his handkerchief going with it. When it was off, her mouth attached to his skin, hot lips searing through Harry’s nerves, a rush of adrenaline at the feeling of her on him.
“Nora,” he begged, fingers digging into the curve of her ass, tugging her hips towards his. Without hesitating, her teeth brushed over the mark she had made on him, making him hiss. “Baby, please.” His words were raw and rough, desperate to have her. He could never get enough of her, the way she made him feel, the sounds she made in his arms, the way she looked up at him under long eyelashes, a coy smile that begged for more.
“I need to go change into my new lingerie,” she said, nudging at his chin. It was a soft movement, one that just asked him to stay close to her, and he loved it.
“I know I said that,” he replied, pulling at her skin with his hands, loving how she gasped at the cold of his rings, “but now I really don’t give a fuck.”
“Hmm,” she murmured, running a finger down his chest. “But I do.”
With a sigh, Harry let go of her waist, letting her drop to the ground. She kissed his jaw before turning away, the bag from the lingerie store in her hands as she went into the bathroom. Harry ran a hand down his face, heart fluttering in his chest. He just needed her. It was a carnal need, something beyond reason, the very same feeling that had lingered inside of him since the moment he first touched her. It never left him—the desire to have her close, to touch her skin, to make her moan his name. He was addicted to it, and he had no plans to quit.
He fell to the bed, head hitting the pillows, and stared at the closed door. Behind it, he imagined Nora naked, fumbling with the straps and the lace. He easily conjured the image of her in it earlier and he cursed himself for not taking her in that dressing room. Who gave a fuck if anyone heard them.
“Taking forever in there,” he called out to her, getting antsy from his spot on the bed. He had propped his head up on the pillows, giving him a perfect view of the door.
“Somebody’s impatient.” Her voice was music to his ears, sweet and rough.
He scratched at his hair, pulling at the long strands as he waited. “What can I say, love? I’m—holy fucking hell.”
She kept doing that, interrupting his stream of words by opening the door and standing there, naked and bare for him except for the flimsy material covering her body. The white lace clung to her skin, the picture of innocence that he knew she was anything but. Somehow that made it even more alluring, the dichotomy of the delicate lace and the coy smile on her face. Harry sat up and let his eyes trail over her skin, the rise and fall of her curves, the way her breasts strained against the edge of the bra, gaze following the V of the underwear to where he wanted her most.
He swallowed with difficulty, throat suddenly dry at the sight of her, sunlight from outside making her skin glow in front of him. “Cherry…” He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, completely overwhelmed by her.
But then she opened her sinful, delicious mouth, and set Harry’s body ablaze. “I want you to fuck me on the kitchen counter.”
He practically choked. “What?”
She shifted, moving towards him like an animal prowling its prey. “I want you to fuck me on the kitchen counters. The same ones where you make me breakfast every morning. You said I could choose where, right?” When her fingers drifted across his forehead lightly, Harry keened into her, desperate for her touch. She bent her head and whispered low in his ear, “Well I want it on the counters. Every counter.”
That had Harry in motion. He stood, pulling her up so that her legs were around his waist, feet clasped at his lower back. Her hands threaded through his hair and pulled, making his neck tip back as she kissed him. Harry moved through the house blind, unable to see anything but her, but somehow he made it down the stairs without tripping, through the narrow hallways, and finally to the kitchen, the afternoon sunlight hitting the tile perfectly. The windows were open and you could hear the breeze, the soft chirp of the birds, the hint of cicadas. He was going to give her her wish—to fuck her on every one of these counters, fill this kitchen with memories of her moaning against him, let anyone who neared the house hear her call his name.
He dropped her to the counter closest to him, her bare bottom except for the lace panties she wore hitting the smooth granite with a thud. “Want me to fuck you on the counters?” He mumbled, lips tugging at hers, hands cupping her face as he kissed her. Without even meaning to, he pushed his hips into her clothed center and he was suddenly thankful for the lower height of the counters, because it meant she was the perfect height for him. “I can do that, baby.”
Nora’s lips were a dark pink when he pulled away, eyes blown out with desire, hair a mess behind her shoulders from his hands. “H,” she breathed, pushing at his pants, “please.”
“‘m coming, love,” he told her, pushing off his trousers so he was in nothing but his briefs. Then, he dropped to his knees. He wanted to taste her first, he decided. And then he was going to make her come until she physically couldn’t anymore, barely giving her time to recover. They’d talked about it before—overstimulation. She had mentioned that she liked it, like being able to barely think as he touched her, like it when he fucked her from one orgasm to the next without pause. He had been rolling it over in his head, considering a time to experiment with more, to see how far she could go.
Now, he decided, was the time.
His fingers danced up her legs, and Nora gasped at the feeling. “As much as I love this set, it needs to come off now.” He punctuated the sentence with a searing tug at her inner thighs with his lips, sucking her skin into his mouth and making a pop sound when he let go. It made her squirm on the countertops and her hands were beginning to get wet from sweat, the combination of the heat and the feeling of Harry’s hands on her making her body temperature rise.
The lace slid against the granite as he pulled it off of her, Nora lifting her hips just enough for him to be able to clear the curve of her ass. When her panties were on the floor, Nora let her thighs fall open and she just sat there, skin aflame from Harry’s gaze.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, fingers brushing around her pussy; a whine leaving her lips that made Harry smile. “Squirmin’ for me, hmm?”
He knew she loved it when he talked, she’d told him many, many times, and so he had thrown his filter out long ago. Now, he said whatever popped into his brain, and usually it was a mess of compliments and teases about how much he wanted her, because none of it was lie. Hands clasped around the back of her knees and tugged so that her pussy was on the edge of the counter, the cold granite on her hot skin. She looked utterly delectable, pink lips waiting for him, the soft rolls of her stomach fluttering with each breath, her breasts heaving in her bra. “H…oh, god.” When his lips attached to her clit, one of her hands threaded through his hair and tugged his face closer to her, the stubble on his chin brushing across her slit. “Fuck,” she panted, rolling her hips for more of the roughness, needing anything she would give him.
Harry kneaded her hips in his hands, loving the weight of his rings on her smooth and sensitive skin. “Feel good?” He asked, licking over her nub and listening to her keen, wet and breathy echos of yes floating through the air. Then he couldn’t torture her anymore, the sight of her hole clenching around nothing just sending him into a tailspin. So he moved one of his hands and pressed his index finger to her slit, the callused touch rough against her but just what she needed. She sighed at the pressure and Harry watched in delight as her wetness let him slide right in, all the way up to the ring on his finger.
She bucked against him, demanding more, and Harry dove back in, pumping in and out of her with his one finger and curling inside of her as he devoured her clit with his mouth. He rolled her nub with his tongue and then sucked, letting his teeth brush against it and smiling as she shook against him. “More,” she begged, pushing towards him, her one hand on the counter barely able to support her quivering body.
So he added a second finger, his middle finger joining his index inside of her, and she sighed at the stretch. “Fucking drenched,” he mumbled as he watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “So wet for me, baby. Can you hear it?”
All she could do. was nod, the sensations overwhelming her—his fingers inside of her, the slickness of her juices as he pumped hard and fast into her, curling at her rear walls. The way he played with her clit, torturing her as he licked over her, sucking and pulling, the stubble on his chin rough against her skin. It was fucking heaven, and she never wanted it to stop. “Gonna come,” she whined, clenching around his fingers and in his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp.
“Want it,” he mumbled against her clit, the vibrations making her back arch. “Come for me, princess. Please? Want to feel you come on my fingers. Want to watch it drip out of you. Come on, baby.”
Nora couldn’t control it anymore, and she was coming in a second, her body shaking and stuttering on the counter, hand sliding for hold on something, but failing. Harry held her hips in place so she didn’t slide off the counter, and anchored her there as he pumped her through her orgasm, licking at her clit until she was begging for him to stop. Her walls fluttered around his fingers and he loved it, but what he loved even more was removing his fingers from her and the strands of her come that he saw when he pulled away. He moved his lips from her clit to her slit, and licked over her hole, the sight of her quivering exactly what he wanted. When he pulled his lips away he watched a bit of come drip from her hole, weepy and red, and could barely look away.
Then he moved his fingers to her mouth, tapping them to her bottom lip to ask her to open. Which she did. Happily. She bobbed her head like she would on his dick and Harry about came right there and then. But he couldn’t—he had a task at hand that he hadn’t completed.
His head swiveled around the kitchen, counting quickly. “There’s four open counters in here,” he said eyes finding hers again. “Want you to come on every one of them.”
Her eyes widened, processing what he was saying and asking of her. Permission for him to go more intense than he had in the past. But instead of fear of discomfort running through her body, all she felt was desire. “Only if I get you inside of me for all of them,” she replied, taunting him, seeing how long he could last for her.
“Oh baby,” he said, coming to full height and brushing her sweaty hair off of her forehead. “As if I’d pass up the opportunity to feel you come around me.”
In an instant he was moving her to the next counter, the dreaded coffee machine to the right of her and the fridge on the left. Their lips found each other in a mess of teeth and tongue, Nora’s hands pushing at his briefs and Harry unclasping her bra, desperate to see her bare for him. When her breasts fell, he traded her lips for her nipples, rolling them into his mouth. At the same time, Nora had gotten his briefs down enough for his cock to poke out and her hand was on him immediately, tugging at a pace that was going to make him come if he didn’t stop her.
“Nor,” he said, pulling on her hand so it wasn’t on his dick, but instead on his back. “Goin’ to make me come if you keep that up.”
“Then how about you fuck me?”
She knew how to push all of his buttons and adored doing it. It drove Harry crazy, that she could make him beg for her with just a handful of words—the control she had over him was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, and he loved every second of it. “Legs up, baby,” he told her, tapping on her knees. She followed his directions immediately, shifting closer to him and pulling her knees up and clasping her feet around his middle.
Harry knew he wouldn’t need much lubricant, but he decided to add a bit more just so he didn’t hurt her—he knew she was sensitive. So he let spit fall from his lips, the slickness of it landing right on his dick. He pumped it one, covering his length, and then he nudged his tip into her. Nora gasped his name immediately, and his eyes moved to hers, not wanting to miss his favorite moment—when he pushed into her. Which he did, in one fluid motion that had her curling into him.
She was wet, insanely wet from her orgasm and the build-up, and tight, her walls clenching around him as he sat inside of her, flush to the hilt. Nora’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and pressed her head to the crook of his neck, unable to hold herself up anymore, which Harry didn’t mind in the slightest. He loved it when she hung onto him, her trust in him enough to let him control their movements. Harry’s hands moved to her hips and he held them steady as he pulled back and slid back into her, a guttural groan leaving his lips at the feeling of her fluttering around him. “God, baby, you feel so good. Made for me, you know? How did I get so lucky?”
His words were a mess and he didn’t care; he knew she wouldn’t judge what he said. When her fingernails dug into his skin he took it as a sign for more, and so he set about his task—making his girl come again. She liked it fast and hard, loved it when he hit her back walls and made her scream. So he would give her exactly what she wanted.
Harry drove into her at a pace that would probably leave bruises on her thighs, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She panted into his ear, his name echoing around them as his dick pushed in and out of her. Ever since they’d gone bare the first time they had never gone back, them both adoring how close it made them feel. And in moments like this, with Nora draped over his body, all of her weight balanced on him, him pushing into her fast and deep, it was as if they were inside one another.
When Nora clamored at his back, hands pulling at his taught skin and a scream ripped through her throat, he knew he found her g-spot. “That it, baby? Hmm?” She nodded furiously into his skin, teeth coming down on the muscle of his shoulder and Harry grunted from the feeling. “’S mine, yeah?”
“Yours,” she moaned, and then she rolled her hips in a slight circle and Harry faltered at the feeling. “Yours, Harry, I’m yours.”
His head hung on her shoulder, and from there he could cast his eyes down and see his dick entering her barely, their skin slapping against each other. “Holy shit,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off.”
Nora took the situation into her own hands, finding the ability to hold herself up. She pulled away from his neck and rested on one hand, shifting her weight so that she could slither her hand down the length of her body. Her fingers rubbed at her clit and Harry was captured by the sight, her fingers rolling across her wetness as he slammed into her, chasing their orgasms. “I’m close,” she said, walls bearing down on him.
“Me too,” he said, head tilting back. “I’ll come when you do.”
She nodded, knowing how much he loved it when she came and that it usually made him come immediately. It was just one example of how much his body was obsessed with her, his own desire intrinsically tied up in hers. “Come on, love,” she looked up at him, capturing his attention. “Make me come?”
He pulled her lips to his and drove into her at a pace unmatched by his previous one, slamming into her with his full force, sliding into her so fast he could barely keep himself up. He was pushing his weight into her, the hand not on her waist clenching the edge of the countertop. “Come for me, baby,” he mumbled, “want to come in you. Please, Nora, please.”
With one more circle of her hand on her clit she faltered, a scream of his name ripping through her lips and he let it, loving how it reverberated in the room. That she didn’t have to hide it, that he could have it all. She clenched around him and it made his breath choke in his throat, hands curling as he came. Ropes of come inside of her, coating her walls, panting against her lips as he kissed her messily, just wanting to be close to her.
When he regained his normal breathing and feeling in his body, he leaned back slightly, not enough where he pulled out from her, but just enough to where he could look at her. “Gonna move ya,” he said, arms coming around her back. She nodded and held onto him like a koala as he lifted her, moving to a countertop a few paces away, on the other side of the stove. He stayed inside of her the whole time and even though he was softer than before, he wasn’t fully soft because the feeling of her walls fluttering and his tip shifting inside of her as he stepped had him hissing through his teeth.
“Sensitive?” She asked, running a hand through his hair.
“Worried abut me?”
She smiled at him, a soft one full of love and adoration. “Not worried. Just want to make sure it’s not too much.”
“Fuck no,” he replied, shaking his head. “’S perfect. Gonna make you come around me as I get hard,” he told her, and she bit into her lip at the thought. “Like the sound of that?”
“Yeah,” she said, elbows resting on his shoulders. “Like it a lot.”
Harry kissed her, licking into her mouth and savoring the taste of her, sweet like honey on his tongue. The way her hands pulled on his hair, not minding that it was sweaty and a disaster, just wanted something to hold onto. “Wish we’d brought some toys,” he mumbled when he pulled away, the idea of making her come with him inside and vibrator on her clit suddenly filling his imagination.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why didn’t you?”
“Had to fit all your goddamn swimsuits into our bags that didn’t quite fit, did it?”
Nora laughed, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “You love my swimsuits, you ass.”
She was right. He loved them, the way they barely covered her body, the different colors and patterns on her skin that he got to pull off after their time in the pool—or if he was lucky, while they were in the pool. He decided he’d see if he could fuck her in the pool tomorrow. He planned on taking her every day of the week while they were here. “I do, baby. Love ‘em almost as much as I love you.” Then, he pushed two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them on his tongue and letting her watch him, eyes never leaving him.
With that, his fingers pushed between their hips, her softening her back so that his hand could slide against her. And he set a brutal pace immediately, the wetness from his spit meaning he could move against her furiously. The feeling of her clenching around him as he began to draw her closer to her high, her body beyond sensitive after two orgasms, was enough for him to be nearly hard immediately. “H,” she breathed, head lolling back on her neck at the feeling of him rubbing against her.
She was shaking as he rolled her clit between his fingers, and then made a counter-clockwise circle, finger tips brushing above her slit where they were connected. That spot in particular made her moan, a desperate sound that made him want more. He was desperate for her to come, wanting to see her fall apart around him again, the sight one that he wished could go in a museum. Every museum in Italy should have a photo of her when she came.
He made a mental note to grab his camera the next time they had sex—he wanted to immortalize the sight.
When she sharply yelped, hips bucking into his, his eyes flickered across her. “Too much?”
She shook her head, lifting it so she could look at him. “Need more. Please, H.”
“What do you need baby?”
Nora’s hand drifted from his bicep to his neck, securely fastening to its side, the pressure making him zero in on her. “Need you to fuck me again. Can you do that?”
“Fuck me.” His groan was drawn-out and low in his throat. “Yeah, I can do that.” It was like her demand had made him hard again, his body wanting to do nothing less than please her. “Want me like this again, angel?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, unable to form words, but the sound was enough for him to know she did.
“Your wish is my command.” And then he drew back, using their come from before and the slickness of her juices as lubricant as he slid back into her, the feeling of him moving inside of her making her let out a sudden cry. After just sitting inside of her, moving against her was everything he needed. “Goin’ to go slower, okay? Need to last for you.”
She nodded furiously, body tightening in his hold. Her fingers pressed into his throat more and he didn’t even think she was doing it on purpose, but he wasn’t complaining. Her thumb was on his Adam’s apple, her other fingers clasped around the back of his neck. He shifted his hand away from her clit, ignoring her whine, and adjusted her hand so that her palm was situated squarely around the front of his neck.
Her eyes widened. “Too much?” He asked, checking in with her as he returned to her clit, rubbing against her bud with his thumb.
“No,” she replied, tensing her hand experimentally. “It’s hot, actually.”
Harry smiled, pulling her clit with his thumb and forefinger in response and her hips jumped. “I like it.”
“Just...stop me if it’s too much, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice was sweet, and Harry loved it—how she wanted to make sure she didn’t hurt him.
“I will,” he promised. She squeezed again, a bit tighter that time, and he let out a strangled moan. He’d never tried this with anyone else, but he had to admit, he liked it more than he had expected. He pulled his attention from her hand around his neck and to where his dick pushed in and out of her, trying to hold back his tempo so he could last for her. Instead of going fast, he settled for going deep, pressing every inch of her pussy, and rolling her clit fast. The combination had her squirming, hips almost pushing away from him. “Good, baby?”
“So good,” she breathed out, squeezing happily at his throat. “Might come soon. It’s so much—fuck, H—I can’t…”
The sight of her eyes fluttering and breasts bouncing as he pressed into her was tattooed into his brain. “That’s it, love. Come for me.”
Nora swiveled her hips slightly, chasing his touch, fingernails cutting into his skin at the back of his throat. “I—“ she choked on her words, head falling back as she came, it creeping up on her this time. The intensity of it, though, was unmatched, her whole body shaking so much that Harry had to pull her against him and hold her so she didn’t bang her head. He continued to push into her slowly, eyes clenched to try and hold back from coming at the feeling of her holding his dick inside of her like a vice.
When her body had calmed, Harry still hadn’t stopped, making good on his promise to fuck her through her orgasm and into the next one. “Can I bend you over for the next one?” He asked her, lips on her ear as he spoke, words low and rough.
“Y—yes,” she said, words chalky in her throat. They both needed a different position, something to change things up.
So Harry pulled out of her, both hissing from the loss of him, and he quickly carried her to the second to last countertop. She stood unsteadily on her feet, so he held her fast, not wanting her to fall. Nora bent over on her own, the cold granite on her bare breasts making her gasp. Harry ran his hands down her back, pushing her hair to the side so he could see her skin. “You okay?” He asked, kneading her sides to calm her down.
“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching her hand back to hold onto his. “Want you.”
The desire she had for him matched his, and it was in moments like these that he was thankful for it. He brushed his dick over her slit, it weepy and puffy from her multiple orgasms, their mixed come coating her skin. With his eyes on her face to make sure it was okay, he pushed in in one motion. The new angle had him hitting a different spot inside of her, one that made Nora dig her fingers into Harry’s hand and her toes curl. Harry’s head flopped back, panting heavily from the feeling. “So wet,” he rasped, “feels so good. Shit, baby, you feel so good.”
He swept his hands across her skin before he started to push in and out of her, his pace picking up as he fucked into her. She was still reeling from her last orgasm, much less the two before it. There were two more that he wanted from her, two more that she said could give. He wanted them here, like this.
All of a sudden, her hand moved his, relocating it from her side to her ass, his palm landing on one of her cheeks. “Want me to pull on you here?” He asked, kneading into the skin. He loved her ass, loved how they pressed against his hips when he pushed in and out of her. “Want me to spank you, baby?”
“Please,” she pleaded, voice raw. “Please, please, please.”
They’d done it a few times before and each time she’d loved it and he hadn’t gone too hard. So he decided he would give her a few, just to help bring her closer to her orgasm. “Okay, angel.” He had his rings on, so he decided not to go too hard, not wanting to hurt her. After rolling her skin in his hand, pulling her towards his hips as he pushed into her, he raise his hand and let it fall. The slap made her mewl, a delicious sound that had Harry bending and pressing kisses down her back. She shivered under his touch and Harry thumbed at her sides, trying to settle her. “Good?”
“Good,” she answered. She pushed her hips insistently against his and hummed.
“Sensitive?” He wanted to know where she was, how to make her come, how to give her what she needed.
“Yeah.” Her words were shaky as she tried to focus on him. “I—I don’t know if I can do two more, H.”
Harry didn’t mind, he just wanted as much as she could give him. “That’s okay, love. I’ll take as much as you can do.” With a tender kiss to her spine, he pulled her hips towards him, creating a bit of space between her thighs and the cabinets below them. Just enough to be able to sneak his hand between them and rub at her clit.
It had her shrieking, the sudden additional pressure sending her into overdrive. Harry was about there himself—he was an orgasm deep and barely fighting off a second one, trying to focus on anything other than his own pleasure to try and hold himself at bay. Instead, he watched her face contort with pleasure, her flushed cheeks rest on the counter tops, her arms unable to keep her body up anymore. She was holding onto the side of the counter for dear life as he fucked her, and he just hoped he wasn’t hurting her, pushing her too far. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, checking in with her.
She bobbed her head in a nod. “Good. Close. Can’t—can’t hold on.”
“Don’t need to, baby,” he reminded her, rubbing his fingers into her shoulder blade to release some pressure. His hips pushed into hers at a steady pace, his other hand forming circles on his clit. Another spank, he decided, would send her over the edge.
Perhaps it was the shock of it, or the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her, because she came immediately. She choked on air, knuckles holding onto the counter top that they turned white. Harry pulled his hand away and shuddered, barely containing himself as he fucked her through it. He truly didn’t know if he could last enough for her to come again. He was dribbling pre-cum into her, weeping into her, his body taught and ready to come if anyone asked him to. Could barely hold himself together, much less for long enough for her to come again.
So he bent down, pressing his chest to her back, loving kisses to her skin. “What do you want to do, baby?”
Shakily, she uttered a single word. “Another.”
He picked his head up, shocked. He thought it was too much for her. “Really?” She just nodded, and so he pulled out of her slowly, the ridges of his dick brushing against every nook and cranny of her pussy. She whimpered at the emptiness, but Harry picked her up, her pliant in his arms. “Gotcha, love. I’ve got you.” Her cheek rested on his shoulder, exhausted, fingers crawling all over him like she always did when she was fucked out. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”
“H,” she mumbled, “told you I want another. So give me another.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her bossiness, it never failing even when she was tired. Or perhaps it was stronger when she was like this. “Anything for you.” The last countertop was the island, and so he could lay her out flat, let her body stretch in front of him. Her hair cascaded across the granite and he didn’t know if there was a single more beautiful sight in the world. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off,” he expressed honestly as he thumbed at her clit, the feeling making her hiss.
“Give me whatever you have left,” she said, reaching for his cheek. Softly, she brushed a thumb across it, and the tenderness of the motion grounded Harry.
“Love you so much,” he breathed out as he looked at her. “So much that I don’t even know how to express it.”
A tear leaked from the corner of her eyes and Harry brushed it away. “Love you too,” she told him. “Just as much.” Her fingers pulled at his hand that was resting on her belly and slowly she kissed each of his fingers, a smile drifting onto his face.
Outside, the sun was setting, and the orange hues dances across Nora’s skin like a painting, coating her in evening light. She was breathtaking in front of him. “Come here,” he mumbled, reaching for her, “want you close.”
Shakily, she pressed herself up towards him and Harry helped her. As much as he loved seeing her stretched out in front of him, he wanted to hold her for this last one, to have her as close as possible. He gathered her up in his arms, and then he nudged his tip, which was so sensitive that the mere touch of her slit made him growl, into her. She scratched at his shoulder blades, angry red marks that he would look at later left on his skin as he pushed in fully.
Harry bit onto his lip, it being the only thing that could anchor him. Just one more, he reminded himself, and then he could come. She needed one more.
“Not going to last long,” she mumbled, her words wet on his neck as she licked at his skin. “Too sensitive.”
He swept her hair into a ponytail so he could smooth kisses across the top of her shoulder. “Me either.”
Her knees squeezed at his hips, anchoring him against her as he pushed into her. She was wet and hot and clenching down on him so tightly that Harry was panting each of his breaths. He was going tor remember this for the rest of time, he thought to himself, this feeling of her around him. “H.” His initial was a prayer on her lips, uttered over and over again as he drove into her. His hands held her close, covering her in his touch, pressing her as close as he could get.
They were making love, sex long forgotten, focused only on how they felt for each other. Nora pulled his lips in for a kiss and they lost themselves in it, passionately nudging at one another with tongues and teeth. Harry pulled on her bottom lip and she giggled, before surging forward, kissing his hot and heavy.
It was overwhelming, the feeling of her everywhere on his skin. “Love you,” he mumbled, thoughts spiraling, “love you so much. God, love you, Nora. Love you. Fuck, I love you.” It was all he could process, the only words he could conjure up.
She didn’t care though, she just wanted him. As he rocked into her, she held his head close to hers, their foreheads resting against one another. She could feel her orgasm rising inside of her, it barely far away after how many she had experienced. Her body was exhausted, but yet she wanted one more, she constantly wanted more with him, for it to never end. This feeling of being absorbed in his body, the closeness of him to her, the way he touched her and said her name and panted in her ear as he pushed into her. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me and I’ll come.”
Harry found her lips immediately, reconnecting them in a promise. And when he did, Nora lost it, her body shuddering and sighing in his arms, legs shaking around his waist. She was pliant, putty against him, sinking into him, and he loved every second of it.
And that’s when he let go, coming inside of her harder than he ever had before, unable to hold back for one more second. He couldn’t move against her and just held her to him as he came, painting her walls with ropes of come that left him with a growl in her ears. It overtook his entire body, the feeling of coming inside of her after waiting for so long, his bones rattling from the sensation.
When he finally stopped, they were both shaking from sensitivity and the nips of cool air that passed through the room, nighttime settling outside. “Want me to pull out?” He asked, not knowing which would hurt more—being in or out of her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head against his chest, where she rested. “Just…stay.”
So he stayed there, holding her to him, still inside of her, as they both caught their breaths and came down from their intense highs. The cicadas chirped and trees rustled, the sounds of the hills of Italy floating through the room. The air was heavy with sweat and desire, and Harry adored it because all he could smell was her—her sweat, her perfume, the shampoo they shared because he had run out. The smell of her on his skin, his favorite scent in the world.
“Okay,” she finally said, words dry on her tongue.
“Pull out?”
“Yeah.”
Slowly, he pulled his hips from hers and his dick left her. She felt empty without him there, but at the same time it felt good, her body finally calming fully. “How about a bath?” He asked her, brushing at the sweat on her forehead, pushing away her hair that fell into her face. “Soothe your muscles a bit.”
She nodded, and Harry picked her up, her body still sore and exhausted. With her attached to him, he climbed the stairs, both of them fully naked, but he didn’t have a care in the world. Just wanted to make sure she was okay. When they reached their room, he kicked open the door to the bathroom, and set her on the toilet.
“You should pee, angel.”
Nora nodded. They’d long ago gotten over the discomfort of peeing in front of someone else. He turned to the tub, messing with knobs to get the temperature just right as she peed next to him. “Want it hot,” she told him.
He looked back at her, her cheek resting on her palm as she watched him. “Like, really hot? Or kinda hot?”
“Somewhere in between?”
He didn’t know what that meant, but he’d endeavor to find out for her. The temperature was about as good as he could get it, he decided, and so he turned back to her. “Done?” She nodded, and he pulled her leg towards him. She flushed the toilet, and then let him tug her into his lap, her legs fastening around him again as he rose to full height. Gingerly, he stepped into the filling tub, and when he finally sat, the water reached midway full. “How’s that, baby?”
Her head rested on his chest, right over the swallows, and she sighed. “Perfect.”
Running his hands up and down her back to calm her, Harry thought about nothing but her. How she consumed his every thought and moment. Was that normal? Did everyone feel like this? “I’ve never felt like this about anyone else,” he mumbled, lips resting on her temple.
“Me either.”
“Is it…normal?”
Her fingers danced up his biceps, across his tattoos like she loved to do. “I don’t know. But I don’t want it to change.”
He reached forward and turned off the water, before settling back, letting her body follow his. She rested against his chest, fully flush against him. “I won’t let it.”
She kissed his swallow, a tenderness that made him almost sob. It was moments like these, the small ones of her curled up against him, their minds and bodies quiet, consumed in nothing but one another, that his love for her overwhelmed him. “Who thought I’d fall in love with a frat boy.”
Harry laughed, picking her wet hair up and massaging her neck. “Not just any frat boy,” he reminded her.
Nora shifted her chin up, so that they were looking at each other. “Harry, my frat boy.”
“Nora,” he replied, her name his favorite word, “my love.”
They sat there until the water grew cold, and then he picked her up and carried her to bed, not bothering to dress themselves in anything. And then they fell asleep, bodies intertwined in the sheets, the clear Italian night wrapping around them like a cocoon, not wanting to disturb them from their world. A world filled with nothing but one another.
#boyfriendathon#Harry Styles Fan Fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles drabble#college harry styles#fratboy!harry fan fiction#fratboy harry styles#frat boy harry styles
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Distance Makes the Heart Grow
CHAPTER 8
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 4k
Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?
Warnings: none!
A/N: sorry it took me so long. The rest of the date will be in chapter 9!
(Y/n) huffed, crossing her arms across her chest at the mess Twyla had made. Originally, she had thought asking her to help her get ready for her date was a good idea. The two of them hadn’t spent as much time together as she had liked too and she knew how much Twyla adored fashion. But now, as her various designer dresses and shoes were scattered around the floor along with makeup palettes that had been tossed aimlessly, her patience was wearing thin.
“Was this mess really necessary? I hope you know I’m not cleaning this.” she said, causing the girl to turn around. She tossed a dress on the bed beside the girl before continuing to sift through the manmade jungle she had caused.
“I know. Neither am I, that’s what the maids are for!” she turned, watching as her friend bit at her lip nervously, picking with the skin around the bed of her fingernails. “You know for someone going on her first date, I seem more excited than you do!” when she didn’t get a response she looked over at her shoulder giving her a concerned look.
“I-it’s not that I’m not excited! Trust me, I am. I’ve been waiting for this date for over 7 years. It’s just..” she sighed, looking away from her as her cheeks heated up in embarrassment. “What do you even do on a date? O-or say? What am I supposed to wear?!”
“A good date will flow naturally no matter what you’re doing. And you said Nev was taking you to some fancy restaurant but also on a gondola ride, right? Pick out a dress that’s fancy but also gives you flexibility. Hold up, lemme look I think I saw the perfect dress.” Twyla dove back into the pile of clothes, causing her to giggle at the sight. She continued to lift and throw things until she popped up letting out a loud ‘A-ha!’ she watched as the dress was tossed on the bed along with a pretty pair of strappy white sandals and a purse in the same shade of white. Once she picked the items up, Twyla began to shove her towards the bathroom with the items.
(Y/n) looked in the mirror, letting out a shaky breath. She felt beautiful, undeniably so. Twyla had already taken the liberty of styling her hair and doing her makeup. They had gone for a natural but ethereal makeup look. Dewy foundation, subtle but glowly highlight, a thick layer of gloss along with some individual lashes to make her eyes pop. She felt like a fairy, a princess even. Reaching a jittery hand towards the doorknob, she opened it peaking her head out. Twyla looked up smiling before her jaw dropped at the sight of her friend’s full appearance. Squealing she walked up to her, twirling her around to admire the full look. Sure, she had seen her in a dress before, and even makeup. But this outfit, this look, was much more like her. Yet Twyla couldn’t help but feel as though something was missing.
“Hmm.” she trailed, eyes gazing across the room. Her eyes lit up at the sight of what it was. The diamond encrusted crown lay gently on top of a velvet pillow along with the diamond necklace and earrings. She handed the earrings to (Y/n) to put on before placing the crown on top of her head. Turning her around towards the vanity, she unclasped the priceless necklace before placing it around her neck. “Oh my…(Y/n) you look so beautiful! Like a, like a princess.” she felt her ears tingle from her kind words, smiling as she admired her appearance in the mirror.
“Now, let’s talk lingerie.”
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“Didn’t peg you for the nervous type, boss.” Blaise piped up, chuckling as Neville fiddled with his tie for what seemed like the thousandth time. He glared at the man through the mirror, grumbling under his breath. Blaise wasn’t wrong, he rarely was. The bigger problem at hand was that he was nervous and he didn’t know how to handle it. Neville had punched some of the most powerful men in the face, made people gravel and beg for their lives, hell, he had even killed men and throughout all of that, he had not an ounce of nervousness in his system. But now, when he was taking the little baker girl who he had been madly in love with since they met in school all those years ago, nervous was the main thing he felt. He was excited, sure, plenty, but in actuality he had never been on a real date with someone he had feelings for.
“Do you even know what to do on a date? You were quite the playboy before she came back into your life.” Ron added, mixing around the scotch in his glass, pouring some for Neville who instantly downed it, not even wincing at the taste.
“ ‘S not true!” he said, turning his head some to glare at him. Seamus cackled, wiping the invisible tears in his eyes as he slapped his knee.
“Please boss, you went through more women than George does bullets on a mission, which is a fuck ton.” he said, causing everyone else to agree. The guys had all gathered in the spare room to help him get ready, calming his nerves and even giving him a few pointers. Although a lot of the advice was useless, he was able to make sense out of some of it.
“Okay, well, suppose I am nervous. How should I...what should I do on a date?” he asked, coughing over the last part to cover it up. They all heard loud and clear though, starting to overlap one another before Blaise whistled, causing everyone to silence. Neville gave him a nod of acknowledgement.
“Well, did you buy her flowers?” Draco asked, breaking the silence. He scoffed at the ridiculous question.
“Of course I got her flowers! Did you really ask me of all people that? I picked and charmed a bouquet for her the other night. Each flower was handpicked from my garden with intention behind every single one of them.” he rolled up one of his sleeves, seeing if he preferred them rolled or down. Pondering it he decided to roll them down.
“Well combine that with what we’ve taught you and you’re all set.” Harry said, shrugging some as he looked up from his newspaper. Neville gawked at the men. Taught? The only thing they had taught him was that he needed better friends!
“Taught me?” he let out an exasperated laugh, walking towards them. “Taught me? You haven’t taught me shit! I’d have half the mind to-” a knock on the door caused his breath to hitch. The boys all gave each other knowing smirks but their jaws dropped as the door opened revealing the (h/c) girl in all her glory.
There she stood, skin glowing in the soft streams of sunlight that came from the evening Italian sun. The soft lace and tulle draped across her skin delicately, bits of sparkles from the fabric shining brightly. What caught his eye the most was the crown on her head. Even though he had saw it on her yesterday, it was having the same effect on him today.
“Holy shit.” Seamus whispered, forcing his mouth closed. Not a single pair of eyes weren’t on her.
“Listen, if Nev fucks his date up tonight…” Blaise trailed, causing the girl to giggle, looking at the ground shyly. She glanced up at him through thick lashes, watching as he made his way over to her. He bowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles causing her to giggle some. As he looked up at her, a soft barely there smile graced his face.
“I don’t think that’ll be happening.” he said as he stood up, grabbing the bouquet of flowers from behind him before handing them to her. “What are you doing here, petal? I said I’d come get you from the room.”
“Twyla was really adamant about you seeing me as soon as possible.” she smiled at the scene that had taken place a few moments beforehand. “She said that I looked too good to be kept waiting.”
“You know, that girl’s always speaking nonsense but for once I’ve gotta say I agree.” Neville said, stroking her cheek gently as he leaned down, placing a soft peck on her lips. “Ready to go?” he asked. She nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his arm, waving before exiting the room with him. Seamus watched as they left before standing up, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Where are you going, Finnigan?” Harry asked, quirking a brow at him. Seamus smiled, winking some.
“Launching operation ‘make sure the date goes well’. You didn’t think I was gonna miss out on this did you?” Draco eyed him suspiciously as the vein in his forehead began to throb.
“Twyla set you up to this, didn’t she?” Seamus turned once he got to the doorway, flashing him a smile.
“ ‘Course she did!”
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“Woah! I’ve never seen a car like this in person before.” (Y/n) said, in awe as she walked up to the vintage car. Neville smiled some as the driver came over, bowing as he opened up the door. He slid the driver a large bill, thanking him in italian.
“Yeah, you like it?” she nodded, looking back at him as he climbed in the back of the convertible with her. He pulled her into his side, pulling his Dior sunglasses over his eyes to protect from the evening sun. “It’s mine. Should I have it imported back to England?” her eyes widened. Although Neville had a lot of nice things, she never failed to be surprised when he had something new to show her. She leaned into his side, pulling her legs up onto the seat as the car began to move.
“It’s pretty. I think you should leave it here though. You know, as a memory of tonight.” She looked up at him, smiling some. Neville felt his heart race as he looked down at her. He felt breathless. Whatever he had done in the past years to have the angel of his dreams sitting next to him, going on a date, he’d do it all over again just to see the smile she was giving him. He leaned down, capturing her lips into a passionate yet loving kiss. Their lips locked till they were practically breathless, pulling away. (Y/n) let out a breathless giggle.
Neville pulled out another large bill, leaning forward to hand it to the driver. “Guida piano, sì?” the driver looked at him through the visor mirror, giving him a nod along with a knowing smirk. He sighed to himself as Neville turned back to the girl, laughing at something she had said.
“Ah, giovane amore.”
--------------------------------
Neville opened the door for the girl, holding her hand as she stepped out of the car. He decided first that they could get dinner. It’d be an easy way to set the tone for tonight and give him another opportunity to spoil her yet again. He made sure to pick the best restaurant money could buy but even then, she deserved more. More than money could buy. He smiled as they reached the reception desk, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the man behind the desk.
“Welcome sir, name?” he asked, looking up at the man cluelessly. A few others in the restaurant were noticeably tense, but continued to work.
“Longbottom.” he stated, watching as the man looked through the reservation book. He sucked on his teeth, giving Neville a fake look of sympathy.
“Sorry, it looks like you’re about 5 minutes late! I’m sure if you come back tommo-”
“Did you hear what I said? You might wanna listen closer this time. I’m Neville Longbotom.” the man behind the desk blinked at him blankly before his eyes shot up in a sudden realization. He began to scramble, trying to form some sort of apology. Neville slammed his fist on the desk, leaning forward as he began to speak through gritted teeth. “Just get me my fucking table, yeah? My lady should never be kept waiting and if she has to stand here for one more god damn-”
“Yes, yes! Right this way sir.” he said, grabbing the menus. At some point he dropped them but continued to walk, leading them to a private table near a large window. (Y/n) gasped, leaning against the window to look at the breathtaking view. Below her was the ocean, the sunlight cascading across it as seagulls flew around freely. While she was distracted, Neville took the opportunity to pour two glasses of wine before tapping her shoulder. She turned around, smiling at him.
“You seem to be enjoying the view. I take it the table choice is fine?” he asked, pulling her chair out for her. He pushed her chair up before taking a seat in the one across from her.
“It’s beautiful, I haven't seen anything like it. Last time I saw views this beautiful was Hogwarts.” she tensed slightly as he reached across intertwining their fingers, before relaxing. Her heart was racing wildly, a million different thoughts running through her head. Her and Neville had spent many moments together, far more intimate than this. But there was something so nerve wracking about being with him in public where anyone could see them. (Y/n) found herself growing self conscious about the pressure of it all, but decided to push it aside. She had been waiting for this for years and she wasn’t going to ruin it with a few negative thoughts.
“Yeah? If you like this, you’re gonna love what I have planned for after this.” he smiled at her. After this? He had more than this planned for them? Her wonderings of what it was didn’t last long when the bread was brought out, causing her eyes to light up. As soon as the basket was placed on the table she reached for a slice of the expensive bread, layering butter on it.
“Th-they’ve got the good bread! With the butter that’s all smooth.” she muttered with her mouth full. Neville bit his lip to contain his laughter at her childish display. “Y’know what I’m sayin,?”
He smiled at her, grabbing a piece of his own. “Somehow I do.”
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After 30 minutes of good conversation and 3 bread baskets later, the two were finally ready to order. (Y/n) opened up the menu, gaping at it in confusion. There was so many elaborate names with descriptions even more confusing. Neville noticed this, pulling her menu down to look at her a bit.
“You alright, pretty girl?” he asked, ignoring the impatient waiter that was supposed to take their order.
“I’m alright it’s just...there’s so much confusion. All I wanted was chicken alfredo and I don’t even see it on the menu.” her eyes continued to scan the menu, becoming more perplexed as the names grew longer. Her eyes followed the tattooed finger as it pointed to a name that she didn’t even wanna think about pronouncing.
“ ‘S right there. Don’t worry dove, I’ll order for you.” her shoulders relaxed some as she gave him an appreciative smile. As he sent the waiter off, a silence fell over them. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was clear something needed to be said and for once, it wasn’t on Neville’s end. Did she really wanna ask him now? ‘I should at least wait for dessert, that way it won’t be awkward if he says something I don’t wanna hear.’ she thought to herself.
The silence was encroaching, slowly becoming unbearable. It was suffocating, she felt like she was on a rope, dangling above all the words she wanted to say but couldn’t.
“So I-”
“Do you-”
They both looked at each other as they began to laugh. “You can go. I insist.” he encouraged, taking another sip of his wine before she could protest.
“I was just going to ask if you picked the bouquet yourself? It’s far too beautiful to be store bought, the flowers look happy.” she said, smiling down at the bouquet fondly. When the waiter first came, Neville heavily urged them for a vase to put them in. The waiter originally had been hesitant but when Neville’s jaw began to clench he quickly went to look for a vase in the back room. He smiled at her eye to detail, nodding as he cleared his throat placing his glass back on the table.
“Yeah I did.” he secretly snuck his hand across the table, the edges of their fingers brushing against each other. “Do you remember flower code?” she moved her fingers under his, smiling when he tightened his grip on her hand.
“Of course I do. We learned it together during the spring in the astronomy tower together. Best spring of my life.” she sighed fondly at the memory. “Forget-Me-Nots for true and everlasting love, violets for faith and affection, however, the tulips are leaving my mind. I can’t remember what they mean for the life of me.” she huffed, looking off as she tried to recall their meaning. He chuckled, placing a kiss on her knuckles. He trailed his kisses as far up her arm as he could reach from his position at the table.
“Tulips, well, tulips represent perfection and royalty because that’s what you are to me.” their eyes locked in a passionate gaze, (e/c) meeting his own dazzling ones. “My tulip, so perfect. I have every intention to treat you like royalty.” she was left wordless. Was this all real? She had read many fairy tales growing up and now here she sat, experiencing one of her own. Sure, those fairytales never had dangerous tattooed men with hearts of gold, but the way he looked at her, holding her with such delicacy let her know she had found her prince charming.
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(Y/n) was thankful she had worn a dress because if she had worn jeans? The button would have flown straight off her pants. Her alfredo was delicious, every herb and seasoning used done so perfectly. Not another bite could fit in her. However, when the dessert menu (that featured pictures of each and every dessert) was brought out, she didn’t see why it wasn’t a good idea to get dessert!
“It all looks so good! Like I made it, but better.” she breathed out, eyes scanning the dessert menu eagerly. But when she saw the triple chocolate cake, it was like she was falling in love all over again. “This. We need this Nev or else I might die.” he laughed at her serious expression, rolling his eyes some.
“Alright, love. Un ordine della torta al cioccolato, per favore.” the waiter nodded, writing it down before walking off again. The same silence from before fell over them but this time, she was going to do it. She sighed, grabbing both his hands in one.
“Listen, Nev. There’s been something, or someone, I’ve been meaning to ask you abou-” her eye began to twitch as a familiar figure stood next to their table. She gave her a bone chilling smile before turning to Neville who was much to her surprise, even more upset than she was.
“Ah, Neville! What a pleasure it is to see you here!” she said, holding out her hand for him to kiss. However he glared at it, leaning back in his seat.
“Can I help you Gisele? Actually even if I can, I don’t want to. Get lost.” he said, waving his hand for her to go away. But as expected, she didn’t budge. She leaned forward onto the table, gripping the edge with her red manicured hands. Her cleavage was on display as a fake pout graced her face. “I’m on a date and I’d rather not see you.”
She gasped, placing a hand on her chest in surprise. “A date? Oh my, is that what this is? Gosh I am so sorry! When I met, er what was it? Ah, (Y/n), over here the other day she said you weren’t together!” he raised a brow at this, looking between the two.
“You two met? Why didn’t you tell me, love?” he asked, turning his attention to the girl. She gave Gisele a disgusted one over before looking back at him.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant meeting.” she pushed out, looking at him. He rubbed at his chin a bit as he hummed.
“Really? Do you recall what she said to you?” he asked, knowing it couldn’t have been good. Gisele’s expression gave it all away. Although she feigned being unbothered, her expression was slowly cracking.
“You know as a matter of fact, I do! She said I was a knock off version of her and that you were using me as a replacement for the original!” she said, giving Gisele a wide tooth grinned. Gisele’s lips were parted as she searched for the words to say, mind blanking.
Neville looked between the two girls as he took a sip of his wine. “Now that you mention it, you two do look alike. I never really noticed though, I didn't spend much of any time looking at her face. But now that I am…” he trailed off, eyes tracing Gisele’s features, “You’re definitely not a knock off of her. I think it’d be an insult to you to even insinuate that she’s a knock off of you!” Now it was her turn to be surprised. Had he really not noticed their semblance to one another? It was clear now that not only was it a coincidence, but Gisele’s whole story was a lie.
“You- I- you ruined everything!” she shrilled, stomping her foot angrily. “That should be me in your seat, me on this..” she tuned her out as she looked at her own glass of wine. It would be a shame if the wine was to somehow end up on her ugly little polka dot dress. She squinted her (e/c) eyes, watching as the wine splashed all over the girl’s dress. Gisele paused mid sentence, gawking at her dress. Neville began to cackle, eyeing his date suspiciously. His thoughts were confirmed when she sent him a wink.
“My dress! Look what you did to me!” she wailed, motioning to the giant red stain on her dress. A few people turned to look at them all, whispering as they pointed at the girl.
“Me? I didn’t lift a finger.” she said, shrugging as she gave her an innocent look. “I suppose that’s what happens when you meddle in people’s business.”
“Is there a problem ma’am? Sir?” the voice sounded familiar, but an octave deeper. Turning her head her eyes widened at the sight of both Twyla and Seamus. Both of them were in costumes, fake beards and mustaches on their face along with wigs. She went to say something but when the blonde put a finger to her lip, she quickly decided against it.
“Yeah we got a complaint from the head chef. You’re to be escorted out of here immediately. Come along now.” Twyla said, dragging Gisele along with her. Seamus went to follow but was stopped by Neville. He pulled him close, leaning near his ear.
“Next time if you’re gonna spy on your boss, make it a bit less obvious.” he pat his shoulder, tightening his grip. “Although I’m glad you were able to handle this, I’m gonna ask that you leave. It’s not a suggestion but an order from your boss. I’m a big man, I can handle my date on my own.”
Seamus nodded, tipping his hat to them both. “Boss, mini boss.” and with that, he was gone. Neville turned to her, thanking the waiter once the cake was sat down in front of them, two golden forks on the plate.
“Let’s have dessert, shall we?”
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i have to tell you that the second i saw cal and ash on that mountain getaway a couple weeks ago, i thought about how desperately i would love a sequel to your turks & caicos fic set during that trip. (this is not a request, i promise, i just wanted to tell you bc that is one of my fav fics of all time)
Aw anon!! 🥺 Gosh I hadn't even thought about that when I was in my feelings about the mountain getaway pictures, which is wild because I am just remembering now that I started a fic after the honeymoon comment initially happened (like, very soon after, because @elliebirdthings was at that show and told me about it and we were freaking out haha), before we knew that they went to Turks & Caicos, and I had them taking that trip to a cabin in Maine.
Just for kicks, because this message made me smile and I love you for that, here's the beginning of that fic. It's unfinished obviously (not even any kissing!), but there's some nice stuff in there I think. This fic was going to be titled A whole fucking lifetime of this after the American Pleasure Club album which was a title I should have kept, goddammit. Also randomly in here I have them driving to the cabin while listening to My Bloody Valentine, who Ashton later called out as one of his main influences for Superbloom.
1600 words of unfinished Cashton under the cut! 😘
The day after the last meeting about the promo schedule the dressing room conversation turns, as it does, to plans for the break. It’s a month out, but they’ve to a man developed a fetish for planning their free time carefully as soon as the schedule’s set. Planning things makes Ashton feel like a grown-up. He likes renting cars. Sometimes he scrolls through AirBnB for hours just to see what’s out there.
“I’m going straight back, we got Dodgers tickets,” Michael says.
“I remember when you used to say ‘we’ and it meant you and me,” Calum says. He wiggles a little from where he’s snuggled against Michael on the couch like he wants to get away, but of course Michael doesn’t let him. Ashton thinks he probably wasn’t really trying.
“Aw, you’ll always be my first love,” Michael tells him, squeezing Calum to him more tightly. “You wanna make out just for old times sake?”
“I do not,” says Calum, but he lets Michael give him a big kiss on the forehead, his face squinching up happily.
“I just wanna get away for a bit, no work or social media or anything,” says Ashton, ignoring their tomfoolery. “A little cabin by a lake somewhere.”
“Oh yeah?” Luke says. “Where are you and Cal going this time?”
“Maine,” Calum says, at the same time as Ashton says, “Why would you assume we’re going somewhere together?”
A small silence falls over the room.
With dignity, Ashton says, “Calum and I are going to Maine.”
“Just get out in front of it this time,” Michael advises. “Let everyone know it’s another honeymoon. Take control of the narrative.”
“How many times can you go on a honeymoon before you have to acknowledge that you’re married?” Luke asks nobody in particular.
“It’s a bro trip,” Ashton says firmly. “For bros.”
“It’s very bromantic,” Luke says. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt I wasn’t invited. I love going back to LA and jerking off alone.”
“It’s nice that we’ve all got plans,” Calum says. He’s settled peacefully back against Michael, Michael absently petting his hair.
“It’s not a honeymoon,” Ashton insists.
*
Whatever, Ashton called it what he called it, okay? Might as well control the narrative.
Over drinks at the bar after their last show Calum asks, “Where would you want to go on your honeymoon, anyway? Somewhere new?”
Ashton pokes at the ice in his cocktail with his straw. Aren’t they supposed to not be using straws anymore because of the ocean or whatever? Ashton loves the ocean, it’s very important to him. Also this cocktail sucks. “Can I try your drink?” he asks. “I don’t love mine.” Calum has something with ginger in it, and bubbles. Calum slides his obligingly over, and Ashton passes his own over to be fair.
“I like yours better,” Calum says after a sip. “You wanna trade?”
Sometimes Ashton does believe in soulmates. “Yes, thank you.” He takes a long drink. “It would be nice to spend more time in Italy. Not one of the tourist-y parts though, somewhere quiet. Up north, maybe, one of the smaller towns.” He tries to picture what it would be like: olive groves, blue skies, stone churches. An old villa with lemon trees and a view of the hills. He’s so used to traveling with the band or just with Calum that it’s hard to picture anyone else there with him. They’re all as prone as anyone to get swept up with girls to the exclusion of most everything else, but Ashton can’t really imagine a future without seeing Calum all the time, without talking to him every day. Maybe he and Calum could just get married around the same time and they could all go on a honeymoon together.
“Yeah, that’d be pretty nice,” Calum says, looking wistful. Ashton wants to take a picture of him, capture the way a curl rests against his temple, how the blue neon lights behind the bar hit the glitter he let Ashton smear on his cheekbones before the show. They made a no social media pledge for this trip but Ashton’s bringing his camera anyway. He has to keep in practice, doesn’t he? Anyway, it’s important to capture these memories.
“Maybe we should just go,” Ashton tells him. “Why not? Who knows how long it could take for me to fool someone into living with this forever?” He sucks down the last of his drink, feeling sorry for himself now. What if he falls in love and she moves in and Calum stops coming over in the morning to walk to their favorite coffee shop together, and stops picking Ashton up so they can go hike Runyon, and stops bringing Duke over like he owns the damn place and doesn’t care about the dog hair that Ashton has to hoover off his couch pillows? That would be terrible. Worst of all, what if it was Ashton that suddenly wanted those things to stop?
“I’ll live with you forever,” Calum says, too busy flagging down the bartender to intuit Ashton’s emotional crisis. He gestures to Ashton’s empty drink. “Another one of those, right?” His own is still half full. Maybe he didn’t really like Ashton’s better after all.
“Yeah, thanks man,” Ashton sighs.
Calum bumps his knee against Ashton’s, the barstool squeaking beneath him. “Ash, you’re gonna find somebody if that’s what you want. Anyone would be the luckiest person alive to be with you. Maybe we could do Italy after the tour wraps, we’ll finish in Spain so it won’t be far.”
The thought cheers Ashton a bit; that’s a decent amount of time to get on AirBnB and see what he can find that’s available. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to, Italian sunshine and limoncello and the quiet.
“Mike and Luke will definitely give us shit though about planning another honeymoon while we’re still on this one,” Calum says.
“Let ‘em,” says Ashton.
*
It’s not a long flight but it’s a bit of a drive from there to get to the cabin. But Calum said he wanted something remote and quiet, so it’s worth the wait, the drive in the dark. There’s moonlight, anyway, and Calum took the wheel, getting them the rest of the way there in their little silver Prius rental. He puts on My Bloody Valentine and sings along, low and comforting to listen to after so many days straight of playing, of promo. Halfway through the trip Ashton thinks he sees a shooting star, maybe thought he dreamed it until he felt Calum’s soft nudge of knuckles against his arm, heard his quiet, “You see that, bro?”
The way gets bumpy, thick with trees, dark and hard to navigate once they turn off the main road. At the end of it all there’s the cabin, looming in the dark, lights left on for them and the key exactly where it’s supposed to be. It’s past one a.m. but they still give the place a wander, stopping at the largest bedroom facing the lake. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows Ashton sees trees, darkness, the black glitter of water under starlight. Calum asks, “You want this one?”
Ashton looks further and just sees more darkness. “It’s kind of unnerving at night,” he says. “Anyone could be out there.” The other bedroom has smaller windows, but the point stands. “Do you wanna just watch TV or something in here and then decide?”
“If we get axe murdered here I hope our ghosts come back and leave a one star review,” Calum says, but he’s already shrugging his duffel off his shoulders and kicking off his shoes.
The host left them a bottle of pinot grigio so Ashton pours up a few glasses while Calum strips down to his boxers and gets in bed. The boxers have cartoon pugs all over them. “I can’t believe that’s the lingerie you’re wearing for our honeymoon,” Ashton says, handing him a glass. “I also can’t believe those boxers even exist.”
Calum raises it to him in a salute and takes a sip. “These boxers are fantastic, but I guess if you want me to take them off…” he trails off, eyebrow raised, thumb hooked in the waistband pushing them down past his hipbone, then further until Ashton can see the crease of his thigh.
“No, no,” Ashton says hurriedly, “I’m just saying, what’s wrong with a nice pair of footie pajamas? Keeps you warm. Keeps you modest.” Nevertheless he shucks his own clothes except for his own (very grown-up, perfectly normal, in a flattering shade of dark green) boxers and joins Calum in bed. Calum’s already stopped paying attention to him, too busy trying to figure out how to work the remote. He finally gets the screen to flash on, and Ashton stays quiet, sipping his wine while Calum flips channels, finally landing on something in black and white. Cary Grant comes on screen but Ashton still isn’t sure what movie it is; Calum seems interested enough, setting the remote down between them, so he doesn’t complain. The wine goes down easy and Ashton does too after not too long.
He rolls onto his side and sees that Calum’s eyes are already closed. It doesn’t look like he’s asleep yet; it always takes him a bit, leaving him in a dozy stage for about ten minutes during which he might respond crankily to any communication or with adorable mumbling affection. Ashton turns the sound down and says, as quietly as he can, “TV off?” Calum’s eyes don’t open, but he nods a little. “Okay. You want me to go sleep in the other room?”
Calum moves then, a sleepy shift of his body, fumbling a hand up and blindly patting the sheet until he makes contact with Ashton’s hand on the remote and squeezes it, links their fingers together like he can’t quite figure out how to make it work. It feels nice. “’S’okay,” he murmurs. “Stay here.”
Ashton didn’t feel like getting up anyway.
#asks#anonymous#cashton#my fic#5sos#extremely hurtful btw to look at my 5sos unfinished fic folder#1k of lashton living together#2k of cashton h/c#2k of ot4#4k of mashton that was going to become ot4#6k of calum/ashton/luke which is the one i'm probably most mad about it bc there's so much good stuff in there#rip my sweet children you were fun while you lasted#OH MY GOD and the almost 5k of michael/luke in an au where 5sos were a queercore band#i am sorry stories!! i wanted better for all of you!!!!!
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Follow My Lead |Tom Hiddleston x OFC |Chapter 2 | He sipped the wine, avoiding the elephant called his bare ass, in the room
A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.
Series Masterlist Here
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)
Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.
This Chapter: Tom and Vivian take the first steps in this relationship, including a first date and a first kiss. And Tom discovers Vivian is not like any other person he has dated before. Can he step up to the task?
Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.
Taglists are open! Please let me know if you wish to be added! Thank you for reading!
-
Vivian returned to read her book while Tom waited in line for coffee. She didn’t look over her shoulder, but she could tell Tom was sneaking glances at her. He soon returned with two espressos. Vivian preferred a sweeter coffee, but the chocolate chip scone more than made up for it. She replaced the book back into her tote while Tom nervously sipped.
Vivian stared at him as she broke apart the scone with her fingers, popping bites into her mouth. She offered him half of which he accepted with a smile.
“Ask the question, Thomas.” she stated, leaning back in her chair.
Tom chuckled as he folded his hands in his lap. “Am I that transparent?”
“No, that predictable. It’s always the first question.” She finished up the espresso. “Go on, ask it.”
Tom sighed, his face a bundle of nerves. “So how does it work?”
Vivian smirked. “Depends.” Tom’s eyebrows raised and the two of them burst in laughter.
“I deserved that.” Tom laughed.
“Not entirely. But it’s the truth. Every relationship, vanilla or not, is different. But nothing happens without consent.”
“Good to know.” he finished up his coffee and half a scone.
Vivian narrowed her eyes, sizing Tom up with fresh eyes. “You know, if you are looking for kinky sex, there are professionals who can whip your ass and make you lick their boots.”
Tom coughed as he choked on the last of the scone. “Forward, as always. I am well aware of the niche services out there. I am not looking for a one time thing or anything casual. I want a committed relationship. I apologize if I wasn’t clear.”
“No, you were. But I run into a lot of men who say they want a relationship, but what they really want is to play 24/7 and a woman to fulfill all of their dark fantasies. It was never about me. Just a kink dispenser.”
Tom nodded. “I can only imagine the hurt and anger you must have felt.”
It touched Vivian at how empathetic Tom was. Something definitely missing from previous subs.
“What does your work schedule look like?” She changed the subject.
“I’m between projects right now. A few meetings and events here or there, but for the next three months I am mostly reading scripts and hanging around the house.
“Would you like some extra reading?”
Tom smirked. “I’ve already read Anna Karenina.”
“Not exactly. Can I have your phone number, please?”
Tom rattled off the number. Vivian typed on her phone, glancing at Tom a few times before hitting send. His phone dinged, and he fished it out of his pocket, reading her message.
“You want me to read these books?” He quirked an eyebrow. The titles of some books listed piqued his interest. Tom read a bit about this after his last failed relationship, but Vivian had more experience in this arena.
“Yes, please. And then write a 500 word email on what you are looking to get out of this relationship.” She gathered her belongings. “Think of it as homework.” She smiled at him.
Tom scrambled to his feet. “What happens next?”
“We date. We go out to dinner. To the movies. We flirt. Figure out if we like each other. If we are compatible.”
“And if we are?”
“We set up a trial period. We discuss expectations. Now if you excuse me, I have a hair appointment. It has been very nice to meet you properly.”
Tom held open the door and followed her out to the sidewalk. “Dinner tonight? You pick the place.”
She tilted her head at him and smiled, reaching up to pat his cheek. “How about tomorrow? I’m thinking Italian. 7 p.m. Text me the name and address please.”
Tom nodded. “I look forward to it.”
They parted ways with a hug and Tom kissing her cheek. Once she rounded the corner, Tom pulled a ball cap out and searched for a nearby bookstore.
-
There were many who would consider a blowout a luxury, but to Vivian it was a necessity. Her thick, irregularly wavy locks were a nightmare to tame on the best of days. Her standing Saturday appointment was something she never cancelled unless she was out of town or too sick to get out of bed. As the stylist pulled and tugged at her hair, coaxing it into big loopy curls like you see in all the magazines, Vivian replayed the conversation with Tom in the coffee shop.
First, she chastised herself for not recognizing him the first night in the bar. Second, she wondered if this was too good to be true. A bona fide movie star. Not that his status mattered in the long run, but Tom was looking for a lifestyle relationship. The little goblin in the back of her brain screamed, “HE JUST WANTS KINKY SEX!!!” But then she reminded herself not once did Tom mention sex.
While she stood at the counter paying, her phone buzzed. It was Tom. Such an eager beaver.
Hit the lottery at the local bookstore.
Attached was a photo of all the books she told him to read with Tom’s head poking in, a huge boyish grin on his face along with a thumbs up. She couldn’t help but laugh.
Good job. Aren’t you eager?
She turned the camera on and took a quick selfie. How’s my hair look?
Tom responded within 5 minutes. Divine. I made reservations for Il Sugo tomorrow at 7.
She danced a bit in place. One of her favorites. And the fact Tom wasted no time complying with her request pleased her to no end.
I know the place. Thank you for doing that right away.
Tom beamed at the praise, his cheeks heating and blushing as he made his way home to read his “homework” from Vivian.
My pleasure. Is there anything else before tomorrow?
Vivian licked her lips as she contemplated his question.
Wear the suit from Bloomsbury.
She trotted back towards her apartment when a dress in one of the clothing stores caught her eyes. Navy with a faux wrap detail and a deep vee neckline. The dress would highlight her assets and she had the perfect Louboutins to go along with it. Not to mention it would match Tom’s suit. She tried on the dress, loved and plunked down her credit card to pay.
-
Tom was ready 30 minutes before he even needed to leave the house. Unheard for him. While he made a point to be on time, no early, for all his professional obligations; his personal life didn’t always get the same attention.
He tugged on his cuffs and adjusted the gold cufflinks before smoothing down his jacket lapels. This suit, the one Vivian asked him to wear, was among his favorite, with the dark blue color and a thin white line running both horizontally and vertically. It cut close to his lean frame, and the blue suited his features. His phone beeped.
Nervous?
Tom frowned at Benedict’s message. He regretted letting his friend know about his date.
No. He lied. Tom wasn’t ready to reveal the true nature of this relationship yet.
Turn on that signature Hiddles charm and she will be putty in your hands.
Tom sweated. He hoped it would be more like him being putty in Vivian’s.
Right, mate. Got to go, Don’t want to be late.
Tom grabbed his keys and headed out the door, missing Benedict’s last message.
Make sure to tell me everything tomorrow.
-
Vivian completed the same ritual she did every time before a date. After soaking in a bath, with an oil in her signature scent, she toweled off. She applied an eye look that was sultry but not too heavy. A glossy lip and dark lashes completed the look. She slipped on her new dress and her shoes. The mesh details were reminiscent of lingerie. Her diamond swan necklace and a small clutch and she hustled out the door.
-
When Vivian walked up to Il Sugo, she found Tom pacing the storefront. His face broke out into a grin when he saw her approaching. He grabbed Vivian’s hand and kissed her cheek.
“I wanted to wait for you before going inside.”
“Thank you.” Vivian kissed his cheek too, the first kissing him anywhere. His cologne was woodsy and heady.
“That dress is divine.” he complimented, holding his arm for Vivian to spin. “The shoes though, how tall are you in those things?”
“I’m 5’10”, these are about four-inch heels, so 6’ 2”.”
“Perfect.” Tom murmured. He opened the door for her.
The restaurant was warm and cozy. And the food divine as always. Vivian ordered the seafood risotto and Tom the Bolognese. As they waited for their entrees, Vivian folded her hands on top of the table.
“So tell me about your work.”
Tom sipped his water. “So I just finished up a play at the Old Vic and I have about three months before I am due in Atlanta for my new project with Marvel. After that, a series for Netflix filming in London. Have you seen any of my work?”
Vivian’s cheek heated before regaining her composure. “I have.”
Tom smiled at her. “Well, you called me the God of Mischief so at least one MCU film and based on your hushed tone, I am guessing The Night Manager?” He tucked his head to stare Vivian directly in the eye.
“Yes.” she did her best not to blush.
“I’m quite proud of that work. Was nominated for an Emmy, won a Golden Globe. Quite proud of all my work.” He sipped the wine, avoiding the elephant called his bare ass, in the room.
“What is like at the Golden Globes?” she asked.
“Long.” he laughed. “But at least they feed you.”
Vivian giggled too. “Are you always this charming?”
“No.” he deadpanned. “Normally, I’m more charming. You put me quite off balance, Ms. Swann.” She liked how her name sounded when he said it. “From the first meeting. How do you manage that?”
“Practice, confidence, and a good pair of heels.” She kicked her foot out.
“Perhaps I need to invest in some new shoes.” Tom teased, the thought of him in high heels flashed through Vivian’s brain for a moment. She smiled to herself.
“I think yours are just fine.” She kicked the bottom on his oxfords with the toe of her heel before dragging it up his leg mid-calf. Tom choked on his water. “So I know what your job plans are, but what is work like?”
“Rewarding but exhausting.” he commented. “What being a globally renowned corporate barrister? It must be draining.”
Vivian’s eyes sparkled. “You Googled me.”
“Guilty.”
She held her sip of wine against her tongue. “It’s exhilarating. A total adrenaline rush. The stakes are high and I call the shots.” Vivian beamed as she talked about it.
“Don’t you ever want to not be the one calling the shots. Do you ever want someone say ‘do this’ and not have to think about it?”
“No. Do you?”
“Absolutely. I prefer my personal life to be as few decisions as possible. Wear the same clothes all the time. Jog the same route. Eat the same food.”
“And what if it was someone telling you what to do?”
“Honestly, it would be a relief.”
“Even if it were a woman.”
“Even if it were a woman.” Tom parroted, as the server placed the food on the tables. Tom waited until Vivian took a bit before eating. That’s just good manners.
“How is the risotto?”
“Delicious as always, your Bolognese?”
“Delicious, but mine’s better.”
Vivian raised a manicured eyebrow at him. “You cook?”
“When the need arises.”
“Do you clean too? I’m looking for a new maid.” She chuckled, half joking.
“Not as well as I should. Bachelor life has made me somewhat lazy in that regard. My mother would be ashamed.”
“I’m sure we can fix that.” She finished up her food and set her fork down. “What is your mother like?”
Tom wiped his mouth as he ate the last few bites of food. “Kind, hardworking, independent. I doubt I would be where I am today without her. Now my sisters…”
“I have one younger sister. You?”
“One older and one younger. And they are brutal. Talk about the Night Manager. The text messages they would send me. I am never living that down. Ever.”
“Sounds like my kind of girls.”
The server dropped by the table. “Dessert?’
Tom looked at Vivian expectantly.
“Would like to split something, Tom? Your choice of dessert.”
His eyes lit up, and he ordered whatever chocolate dessert was on the menu. Lava cake, flourless cake, some cake. Vivian didn’t care, but she enjoyed seeing Tom happy. The server returned with the dessert and two spoons. She took a small bite as Tom devoured his half and leaped onto the rest of hers. He insisted on paying the bill which Vivian agreed to only on the condition she paid next time.
The day had been unseasonably warm for June, and Vivian didn’t wear a jacket. And now the night air nipped at her bare shoulders. Tom slipped his suit jacket over her, the residual warmth of his body clung to the lining. She grabbed the lapels and pulled it tighter around her.
“Walk me home, please?” she asked rather than demand.
Tom smiled at her. “How else am I getting my jacket back?”
They walked the several blocks to Vivian’s flat in silence, her gripping onto his jacket for dear life. Tom shoved his hands into his pants pockets, doing his best impression of a man not cold. When they arrived at the lobby entrance, Vivian slid the jacket off her shoulders and handed it back to Tom.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
His hands twiddled in front of him. An awkward gesture Vivian found endearing. Just as Tom leaned in for a hug, she grabbed his shirt front and pulled him into a kiss. Tom’s feet scrambled for purchase against the sidewalk as Vivian yanked him forward. Her lips soft against his and he melted to her. His hands fidgeted in the air, not doing what to do with them until landing on cupping her face, catching tendrils of her hair in his fingers.
Tom couldn’t catch a breath as Vivian pressed against him. Her perfume made his brain go fuzzy, or was that the kissing? Tom didn’t know or care. He just wanted to keep kissing her forever. When Vivian pulled away, Tom leaned forward, desperate for contact. She flattened her hand against his chest to hold him in place.
“Goodnight, Tom.” She pecked his lips and backed away before he could pull her into an embrace.
He sighed as his chest heaved. “Can I call you tomorrow? After work?”
She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I work late.”
“I don’t go to bed early. Please text me when you get home. Whatever the hour. I want to hear your voice.” He pushed her hair back.
“Call me at 11?”
“I’m setting an alarm.” He whipped his phone for dramatic effect. Vivian playfully pushed him away as she headed to the door.
“Goodnight, Thomas. And don’t forget your homework.”
“I haven’t!” he called after her.
Tom floated his way back down the street and to the restaurant to fetch his car and head home. The ride home was a blur, and he stripped down to his boxers, tossing the clothes onto the floor, before slipping between his sheets and drifting off to bed.
Vivian washed off her makeup and did her skincare routine before changing into pajamas and placing her clothes in the hamper. She sighed as she thought of Tom. His soft lips and eager hands. Vivian was eager to take the relationship to the next step, but all too aware that rushing things with someone new like Tom could turn disastrous. She grabbed her book from the nightstand and read a chapter before going to bed.
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston fluff#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston x ofc#hiddlesfic#follow my lead#hiddlestoners#tom hiddleston serie
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I'm a big baby rn T^T Jooooo T^T can I request for a comfort fic with Bucky Boo??? (。•́︿•̀。) something like the reader is now on a work at home set up and having hard time getting used to it and Buck comes in and comfort her? How it ends is up to you. Love you, thanks! ♡(> ਊ
La Vie En Rose
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 1,004
Summary: Work has been stressful and you need some comforting down time so Bucky comes up with a romanitc idea for a date night in.
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Date Night theme day challenge! I thought Zephy’s request worked well for this and I also have almost too many ideas for date nights so this helped keep me focused hehe! I hope you like it my darling! Love you! Thank you all for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤ PS If you haven’t heard the song La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong please listen here because it is just gorgeous in every way 🥰
Warnings: teensy weensy angst at just being stressed form work, soft, sweet, fluffy romantic Bucky, kisses, flirting and Bucky in a bow tie.
Sitting in front of your computer for what feels like the 12th hour you rub your temples, trying your best to chase the throbbing headache away. You let out a loud huff and rest your head in your hands, holding back tears, but only barely.
A warm hand gently brushes the hair from your back and then slowly starts rubbing along your neck, massaging the tight muscles. Bucky puts down your tea and adds a second hand, squeezing the knots out of your back.
“That’s still hot, doll. Don’t drink it just yet.” You mumble a “thanks,” as you lean back into his touch, some of the tension melting away under his magic fingers. He sits behind you, spreading his legs wide on either side of you while he continues kneading your muscles. “Why don’t you take a break baby? You’ve been working for the last 4 hours, it’s almost dinner time.”
“I know. I just feel like I can never get ahead of this work! Working from home is not as easy as I thought it would be. All I do is sit in front of this damn thing!” Bucky hands you your tea, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulders.
“I have an idea. Will you promise to just trust me and go with it?” You turn to face him, holding the cup between your hands. “Of course.” He smiles, untangling himself from you and running off. “I’ll be right back, don’t move,” he yells over his shoulder.
Less than ten minutes later he’s back in the living room, closing your laptop and picking you up off the couch. He carries you to the bathroom which is now dimly lit with scented candles and the bath is filled with warm bubbly water. “Oh, Bucky, thank you!” you nearly start to cry as you throw your arms around his neck.
“You are going to take a relaxing bath while I get some stuff ready. Then, when I’m done, you’re going to go into our bedroom and get dressed. I left something out on the bed that I want you to wear. Remember don’t question it. Just go with it.” You give him a sideways smirk before starting to undress. “Ok, whatever you say.”
He stands and watches you, his eyes trailing appreciatively over your naked body. “Care to join me?” you ask, stepping toward him. With a grunt he steps back, adjusting his pants before saying, “if I do, I’ll never leave and then this whole idea will go down the drain.” You laugh at his joke and it feels good. “Your choice,” you tease and then slowly sink under the water with a satisfied hum.
It must be an hour before he peeks his head around the door, checking in on you. “Ok, almost ready, if you want to get out you can.” Grabbing the towel from the rack you stand and step out, feeling so much better already. “Meet me in the living room once you’re dressed,” he says then closes the door.
You dry off and walk into your bedroom to find your long red gown laid out over the bed, complete with your nude heels and lingerie set. Brushing your fingers over the silky fabric you smile at his attention to detail. Clearly, he remembers when you wore this, including what was under it.
Taking your time, you moisturize and fix your hair and do some light make up. Once you feel presentable you head toward the living room, calling out to Bucky to let him know you’re coming. “Just coming out now, Bu…”
The rest of his name dies on your lips as you take in the scene before you. He stands in the middle of the room, now illuminated by several strands of star lights that hang from the ceiling and tall candles on the table. The fresh roses he bought you just days ago sit at the center, your best dishes surrounding them, including two champagne flutes filled with bubbly.
But that’s not the best part. Bucky’s dressed in a tux, the plush blue velvet shimmering under the lights and his eyes sparkling. “Hey gorgeous.” He holds out his hand, bringing you into his arms. “You look amazing.” Your hands reach up to straighten his bow tie, fingering the soft fabric. “Thanks, so do you.”
His hand settles on your bare back, tracing small patterns along your soft skin. “Dinner will be delivered soon, and I made a playlist in case you wanted to dance.” Your eyes water and Bucky frowns but you quickly take his face in your hands. “Thank you. Thank you so much. This is the most perfect date and just what I needed.”
His smile returns and he leans in for a kiss. Just as things start to heat up the doorbell rings, pulling you from the moment. “Be right back doll. Dinner is here.” You watch with a smile as Bucky pays the delivery man, carrying bags from your favorite Italian restaurant back to the counter. “I got a whole bunch of stuff, even your favorite dessert.”
He looks up, giving you a heart stopping smile. “I love you, Bucky. Thank you.” He walks over to his phone and starts the playlist, walking into your arms just as ‘la vie en rose’ comes on. The smooth saxophone washes over you like a silky caress while Bucky dances you around the room, holding you close.
Running his nose along your cheek he settles at your neck, whispering against your ear, “I love you.” With a gentle nudge he twirls you around, your dress billowing out around your legs. Pulling you back into his chest his arm circles your waist, dipping you low before slowly dragging you back up. His eyes close just as he tilts his head, bringing his lips to yours and your hands reach up to comb through his hair. Melting into the kiss you forget about everything else, now in a world apart where roses bloom…
@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @bugsbucky @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bucky-on-my-mind @eurynome827 @emilylyoness @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hiddles-rose @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @yansi1923
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#soft!Bucky x reader#soft!bucky barnes#hbc date night#hbc 24 hour surprise drabble challenge#sebastian stan
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Mommy Minerva's Blacked Afternoon
For single house-mom Minerva Grimsly, life was a damn constant battle between boredom and bliss. Nothing really satisfied her. She became pregnant at 17, then later took to raising what ended up being two daughters all on her own. Was she going to settle though? Hell no. If there was one thing Minerva knew she wanted, it was everything.
She wanted everything. She wanted a good job, a nice house, and happy, healthy children. That was easy, and something she always flaunted. She was a successful, refined, classy, self-made woman in all respects. Miss Grimsly, at the tender age of 35, owned her own house, 4 cars (two for her daughters, one grocery-getter, and one for fun), and had the best dress sense of any woman in the neighborhood. Some even said the city.
Her curves, a lot like her rich, raven hair and endless ocean mist-gray eyes, were what some might call excessive. She had a huge, round, and perfectly form-fitting ass. The same could be said for her perfect breasts, which sat round, bouncy, and 100% real on her toned torso with a visible rib cage and soft tummy. If it wasn’t for those curves, her striking eyes and fashion sense would’ve landed her on catwalks for billion-dollar italian luxury brands. But it seemed she was much happier with her life now.
Because she got everything she wanted.
And that wasn’t like most people in her upper-class neighborhood, who’s external success hid some secret pain inside. Oh, Minerva had secrets, sure, but not the painful kind.
Her main secret to success? Along with being an absolute bombshell with enough explosive punch inside to flatten a good city block, she was also a massive hypocrite.
Minerva Grimsly was an outspoken moral woman. Her business would donate plenty of it’s ample revenue to charities, she always made her daughters promise to never date a guy they wouldn’t marry, and, likewise, to promise not to flaunt their wealth at school. And she did a great job at all that. As for when she was alone, in secret?
Let’s not mince words; perfect mom Minerva Grimsly was also a whore who liked getting fucking railed by massive cocks. The bigger, the better. The blacker? The way better.
That’s what she was doing right now, in fact. Well, that’s not true; she was actually in her bathroom, wearing some lingerie black as her hair, throwing away a pack of condoms. It was full. Was she throwing it away because she knew the mandingo stud she had waiting in her bedroom was way too big for those little condoms, or because she wanted the feeling of his gargantuan black cock erupting against her cervix? We may never know.
But what we can know is that Minerva wasn’t stupid. She never bought condoms that weren’t XXL. Of course, this is a black guy we’re talking about. Even if the condoms were max size, that doesn’t exactly give credence to either possibility. Minerva sure knew how to pick ‘em though.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked lovely, of course, but that much could be said about her 24/7/365. Minerva had no delusions about her appearance, even when she wasn’t in perfect makeup, with her glasses perfectly even, black opal earrings on, pearl necklace around her neck as tight as a teenage girl with daddy issues’ choker, and of course, that lingerie. She looked nicer now, to fuck some random black guy in her bed, than she did for 90% of business functions. Why shouldn’t she? This was the most important part of her day.
The time when she got to feel satisfied.
And make no mistake. Just as Minerva knew as she puckered up her red-lipsticked lips, you should know that ‘part of her day’ wasn’t figurative. She brought home a new fuckbuddy every day almost. Sneaking around her daughters was stressful, sure. It would be horrible if she was caught fucking a man she barely knew, especially a black one. She would be totally exposed as a hypocrite, and her relationship with her daughters that she worked so hard to perfect would be ruined.
But on the other hand, big, hard, nigger cocks drilling deep into her soft, pliable, white MILF holes? Yes fucking please.
So she indulged. She got her daughters on their merry way, leading the active, healthy lives of physically fit white suburban teenagers, while she got her pussy impaled by some oversized black man she picked up while zipping around in her convertible. A hypocrite and a liar. And a happy one.
Today, her daughter, Maddie, was out on a date with her boyfriend. He was a sweetheart, a nerdy, academic little white kid. He also ran track, did extracurriculars, and was generally liked. The perfect little white boy for Maddie to date. The sort who bought a 10 year old economy car with his own money for a summer job. The sort who asked for books for christmas. The exact sort of unassuming boy Minerva would like her daughter to marry and be happy with.
Minerva, of course, could never do that. That sort of boy was what she called a wimp, the sort of loser who she wouldn’t look twice at, ever. Not just because he was white, but because he was so bookish, so polite. It was rude of her to admit, but white guys like him? All they did to Minerva was make her panties dry right up. And Minerva never liked feeling dry panties.
Still, Maddie liked him, so Minerva genuinely wished them the best. Just like she genuinely couldn’t wait for the hung black stud she had waiting for her to make her fucking sore in the morning, only to have her do this again next afternoon.
“Alright,” she breathed, looking herself over in the mirror. She spun around and pushed a finger up against the underside of her soft, round butt. Barely a jiggle. “Good!” she breathed. Her body was more than good. It was fucking perfect. She was sure her daughters were happy she didn’t wear revealing clothes in public (much), or every boy in school would be drooling after her bountiful tits and plump rump.
She slid open the sliding door connecting the master bedroom and the bathroom. And struck a pose too, with her arm on the doorframe, hips cocked to the side, and of course, chest hanging out. “Sorry to keep you waiting, stud,” she said, able to fucking taste her thick, cherry-red lipstick.
On her overpriced, over decorated, TempurPedic-matteresed bed was her ‘friend’ Tyrone, totally naked, relaxing back without a care in the world. If there was a word to describe him, it’d be ‘full’.
Minerva was curvy, with a tiny waist (though not as tiny as it used to be…) and pillowy assets, but all of her was fucking dwarfed by Tyrone. If that was even his real name.
He had big, full pecs, with equally rounded shoulders. His thighs? Just as massive, along with that big belly, a sign of a good diet and hard work. It even had defined abs. Everything about him looked stuffed to the brim. To call Minerva’s ass plump next to this superior man would be criminal. She was happy she had enough to please him. There was a reason she only fucked black.
“Took you long enough babe. I was almost thinking you were trying to trick me.” He said. His lips were just as full and plump, with the sort of cruel sneer that made every white boy shrink in fear and every white girl’s panties wet. As you know, Minerva lived to feel her inner thighs get soaked.
And we didn’t even describe his cock.
Flaccid; or, as flaccid as that thick, sturdy hunk of dark brown meat could get, it was still a tough slab of flesh that was halfway as long as his thigh, and fittingly fat. “Sorry babe, I just wanted to make sure I looked perfect for you. After all, you already do.”
“Hah!” he grinned with large, white teeth. Even if he was a toothless hobo, Minerva would have still probably fucked him. She’d tell herself she wouldn’t, but when there was a stream flowing out of her panties, she couldn’t resist. “Well, I’m happy to look so perfect for a beautiful lady like yo-self,” he boomed. He looked over his prize proudly.
“You flatter me,” she said smuggle. Of course, she also bobbed her shoulders up and down, just so Tyrone got a view of those double-d’s bouncing. With a poofy sound on the fluffed covers, Minerva got to her work fluffing this bulls massive cock. Sure, it was as big and fat as her head, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to blow it.
“Ahh fuck yea,” he moaned as her lips went around his cockhead. He pushed her head down on that massive cock. She drooled all over it, which made his dark, ashy cock gleam with the afternoon light from her windows. “I was waiting so long this thing got cold.”
She pulled up. She was used to cocks being so big she gagged on them, but this one was so thick that she couldn’t even get his head to touch her uvula. The big veiny shaft got real fat real fast. Too fat to actually fit past her lips. It hurt her cheeks to even try and stretch that much.
“What’s wrong? Can’t deepthroat it?”
She pulled off with a loud, wet gasp. “Ah- heh- I’d give twenty grand to any girl you can find that can fit this fucking moooonster down her throat,” she laughed crazily with her head by its side. She sucked her juices of his veiny shaft loudly. The big black cock lived up to its name and was far longer than the length between her ears.
Tyrone laughed boomingly. “Hah, no, not really. But I like to think one day some bitch’ll managed.”
After a long, loud, slurrrrrrrrrrp!, Minerva managed to tear her hungry lips off his cock. “Fuck it’s huge,” she whispered. She honestly couldn’t blame some white girls for not acting attracted to black guys. This was a chore to get off, even if she loved it. “Well, sorry honey, but that girl isn’t me.”
“Yeah, I know bitch. But you’re going good, just keep sucking.”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled with that devilish grin of a bad mommy before going right back down to serve her man for today’s black dick. She sucked down the head good, like it was one of those massive lollipops way too big for a little kid’s mouth. Though she was a tall, busy business woman, just trying to suck this black dick, even with all the experience she knew she had, made her feel like an amateur. A little girl against a real man.
At least her tongue still knew what to do. She gave him the massage of his life right on his cockhead, sure to tease the most sensitive zone on a man’s body while she looked up at him with those sharp gray eyes. She got on her knees, sticking up her curvy ass for him to see all of.
A few minutes of that felt like an eternity. She wanted it to last longer.
“Fuck baby- aw fuck yeah bitch, I’m gonna cum.”
“Yethhhh,” Minerva gasped with lust that did not fit her name. Her tongue was still glued to the tip of his tongue, tasting the precum he leaked. She forced herself to put it back in her mouth. It felt strange there; like it belonged on a black dick. “I’ll fucking swallow it all, babe.”
“Naw, naw,” the black bull huffed. He grabbed a fistful of Minerva’s raven hair, pulling her face right below his stone-hard cock. “Imma but all over your whore face.”
Those words made her ears tingle and her cunt gush. She was a whore. Respected businesswoman, mother, and neighborhood association member, was really meant to be here. She was a slut, a whore, a hole to please big black cocks. What else could Minerva Grimsly need?
She stared up at his god cock, her ass still sticking up. It began flowing. That beautiful, thick, pungent cum poured out of his dick. Fat spurts and twitches sent it flying. He cummed on her face, coating her red cheeks with his seed. His filthy, sexy semen could’ve drowned her and she would die happy. It smeared her makeup and got in her glasses. Fuck, that was hard to clean. Maybe she wouldn’t even.
“Fuck,” he huffed, dropping his head back down into the pillow, “you like that, bitch?”
“Yessir,” she breathed. Minerva licked the dripping cum off her lips as she thought of how she’d threaten to call the cops if anyone called her a bitch in public. She’d probably make a scene, like your typical spoiled suburban white work mom.
Of course, cock like this was what she really spoiled herself with.
She rested her head on his thigh, stretching her tired neck and jaw. All that work, and she barely got that monster cock into her mouth; and it was still so amazing to look at. With her face on his thigh, through just a little bit of his thick, manly hair, she got to smell that beautiful, hot aroma from his sweaty, churning balls. When she raised her eyes, she could see his black dick standing like a monolith. She wanted to get it inside of her. No way it wouldn’t turn her into a screamer.
“It’s still hard,” she muttered, more in awe than actually thinking about it. Minerva always turned her brain off when she melted into the throes of interracial pleasure.
“Yeah bitch, it is,” snorted her man, “All y’all white bitches can’t believe it,” he reached down and ruffled Minerva’s sleek hair. She accepted. “Prolly ‘cause y’all’s men can’t muster that shit, huh?”
“Please,” scoffed Minerva with a wicked grin she knew her daughters never, ever saw, “I haven’t been with a white guy in years. I went black and I’m never, ever,” she rolled over to take a long, pregnant lick at his balls, “going back.”
“So I was right?” he cocked an eyebrow. Cocky bastard. Huge-cocked too. Minerva would kill herself if her daughters brought home a man like this. She was about to cream herself.
“Wanna keep going?” she asked. The bed creaked as she climbed up onto it. She was rather desperate to distract her body, or she’d start fucking squiritng without even touching herself. How embarrassing. It happened more often than you’d expect, thanks to black guys.
“Fuck yeah bitch, you know I’m up n’ ready.” He bared his teeth. It looked like a grin, but Minerva saw it as an animalistic display of power. To tell her that he was about to rut into her and strip away what made her her. After all, she really didn’t act like she cared about it. Her money? Her career? Her family? If she really cared about that all, she wouldn’t be fucking a hung black bull every day of the week. And here she was.
“Yes, yesss,” Minerva muttered under her breath as she tossed her leg over his pelvis and straddled his dark, sweaty body. She grinded against him with enough force to strip a lesser cock to the bone. To squirt all she had to do was hump her needy pussy, shaved for ease of use, against his godcock. She did. “F-fuck- ah- ahh, fuck-”
“Shit babe, you fucking-”
“Fuck- yes I’m fucking cumming- aw!” She tossed her head back and her black hair swung. Her breasts and huge tits heaved as she panted. Was she shuddering? Probably. This guy’s name was fucking Tyrone, of course he gave her good orgasms.
“Damn, that fast?”
“Fuck,” she swore again and dropped forward over him. She stretched her neck and her arms. “I mean- yeah? But don’t let it stop you, big boy. No refractory period for us ladies, remember? I’m expecting eight or nine orgasms before the sun goes down.”
“No rubbers?”
“Hell no!” she smiled a little wildly, “I through those stupid things away!”
“Aight, you crazy bitch,” he grinned again and lifted his huge, two-toned hand to push his fat cock up against her. It pushed just a little into her slight tummy fat. “Let’s fuckin start.”
Minerva’s face grew into a crazed smile. A whole 24 hours without riding black cock, and a white woman was bound to go crazy. She bit her lower lip, held on to his strong belly, pushed up, and eased her white pussy onto that black dick.
Except she didn’t ease it. She was so slippery and wet, and her pussy had been so stretched out by constant hookups with horse-hung black strangers, that Tyrone barely had to push to shove his BBC balls deep into her cunt.
“Fuck!” they said, in perfect unison. Black career woman, ghetto thug? Perfect combo. Their hips rotated and moved. Sometimes they bounced up and down and against each other. That black dick in her white MILF body made a noticeable bulge from inside of her. She drooled, with fat glops of her saliva hitting his body the same time her thighs did. Her feet, still in heels, were on the bed, and her knees were up. Much more of this, and she would go limp, and he’d just have to thrust it into her until she had enough orgasms. His cock stretched her pussy out as far as it could go. Yeah, by tomorrow, her hole would return to its normal state for some other black man to satisfy himself in. And her, of course. She was always satisfied.
“I’m cumming!” She yelled. Thank god the house was empty. “I’m cummmmmmingggg I’m cumming I’m cumming!” From behind his girthy dick, her asscheeks clenched as tight as her pussy as she finally orgasmed. Again.
He slowed, courteous. When he fucked white women in neighborhoods like this, they were usually nervous, cheating on their good husbands and taking huge dick for the first time. He had to be kind to them, reassure them, make sure not to hurt them. Minerva was a different breed. She had none of that.
“Don’t fucking stop, are you fucking stupid?!”
Without hesitating, Tyrone raised his hand and slapped her right across the face. “Don’t you fuckin say that shit to me, white bitch. I don’t tolerate that.” He scolded as he held her face roughly.
“Yes sir,” Minerva squeaked through her pinched cheeks and puckered mouth. “Y-you can punish me for it, stud. You should- gulp- do that right now.” Her eyes were wide. Her pupils were dilated.
“Mm… I think I will bitch.” He relaxed again. Her legs slid down to the bed with her knees facing him. Easy access to slap her thigh; or spank her ass. And spank he did. That big, strong, black arm reached over, with Minerva just as scared of it as any other woman in the neighborhood. He brought his hand down again with a powerful SLAP!
“Owwww,” whined Minerva. Unbecoming for such a woman. Reduced to a horny little kid for big black cock, as usual.
“Fucking take it,” he slapped her again. Her back stiffened. SLAP. SLAP. With those, as her thick ass rippled, she started moving back. And forth.
Back and Forth. SLAP. She winced, but her juicing pussy showed how she really felt about the pain. As she went forward she lifted up a little. Her red ass now clapped on his dick again.
10 seconds later, they were going at it like animals. “FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH” reverberated throughout Minerva’s Hobby Lobby-decorated house. She was so fucking happy to have her insides rearranged by that massive black dick. Maybe she’d bring Tyrone over for a second playdate, she almost never did that. She didn’t have time to think though. Only time to get fucked.
But then, there was what you call the twist.
She couldn’t hear it over the sounds of herself getting railed, but, downstairs and to the left, the Grimsly house’s front door was unlocked. A half a second later, as it opened, her overpriced security system sent a BEEP BEEP BEEP. Throughout the house. That she heard.
Part of living a double life was changing personas fast. When you were the most respectable woman and the biggest whore on the planet, you got good at that. So sure, Minerva Grimsly did just drop down a whole foot to take in Tryone’s BBC, but the second she heard that alarm in her ears, she jumped up, and all the chemicals in her brain triggered by their hot sex seemed like they were gone. And she didn’t like it.
“What is it?” asked Tyrone, “Someone home?”
“You heard it too, right?” Minerva was standing on her heels on her TempurPedic. Her back was hunched over to not hit her head on the ceiling fan. Her hair was a mess. Her pussy was still dripping. It wasn’t a great look.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Aw fuck, she wasn’t supposed to be home this early!” Minerva jumped on the bed and landed unsteadily on her heels to hobble over to the door, all the way praying to herself please don’t be Maddie please don’t be Maddie please don’t be Maddie; and Minerva wasn’t even a religious woman.
She opened the door and looked. Thankfully, ish, the hallway gave her a clear view straight down to the front door. And, there clear as day, was cute, well-raised, polite little Maddie Grimsly, with her perfectly milquetoast boyfriend.
And Minerva still wanted to orgasm 7 more times today.
That was gonna be an issue.
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Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part Two
↬ Part One ↫
⤠ MASTERLIST⤟
Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that’s leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”
Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees
Author’s notes:
Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning
I had to split this in two since it was awfully long: ↠ Part One ↞
Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡
Always remember that jealous rough sex is okay as long as you both enjoy it and you don’t get hurt, otherwise no one has the right to force you into anything, actual violence is never a good thing. Please, if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, talk to someone who can help you, nobody should go through something like that alone.
I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!
Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡
I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong
ENJOY!
Insānĭa [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension
1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury
[...]
“Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.
“Maybe.”
That lascivious whisper shattered against Alfie’s mouth a second before you impatiently kissed him, your fists covetously clutched his white shirt collar as he started fondling your back, then pulling you even closer by vehemently gripping the lower part of your pinned hair, while, with a few brusque movements, his other hand lifted your skirt above your hips and took care of your ivory lingerie which was swiftly pulled to one side. “You’re mine” A grave moan erupted from your throat when that indisputable claim hit you, together with the sudden feeling of two of your lover’s fingers plunging deep into your already soaked core. “Do you hear me?” Alfie growled through his teeth again and your foreheads intimately joined to one another, so that he could keep his voracious stare entangled with yours, a mellow grin took form on your luscious face and you pecked his lips with hunger, brutally pulling his hair. “All yours” As his fingertips expertly stroked your insides, your lecherous remark came out in a muffled gasp, lost between the incessant whimpers leaving your open mouth; you desperately clung to his strong shoulders and hid your head in the crook of his neck, sensing a well-known knot dangerously growing in your stomach, until Alfie’s touch abruptly left your skin, causing you to exhale an instinctive cry of protest. You watched him quickly get rid of his shirt, making you even wetter due to the stunning sight of his muscular abdomen, then he approached you again, unbuttoning your corset with urgency while your bare collarbone was covered in small bites and tickled by his whiskers. Once your voluptuous chest was left exposed, at his complete mercy, Alfie let out a croaky groan, revelling in that aphrodisiac view for a couple of seconds, before his warm tongue assailed your smooth skin, drawing fast circles around one of your nipples as the other was cruelly cupped in his callous left palm. Your breathing hastily became heavier when you felt his lips lingering the area between your breasts and then ruthlessly going down, until he knelt to assault your centre, and you couldn’t hold back a guttural scream, totally overwhelmed by that ardent feeling. Without a chance to stop your movements, you found yourself eager to climax, as your legs widened even more and your fists aggressively tangled his hair, in order to dive his head further between your soft thighs.
Alfie looked up at your figure, astonished by your wild beauty, while he kept devouring you with ferocity, he loved the way your body quivered with blind pleasure because of him, and he knowingly brought two fingers to work along with his tongue, eventually seeing you melt under his touch as frenetic moans escaped your craw. “So fucking sweet” He whined, getting back on his feet as soon as you released, just to luxuriously kiss you again; the taste of your own juices invaded your mouth, your head still spinning from your orgasm, when his hands briefly grasped your free locks, then moving to your bottom, in attempt to pick you up and carry you towards the closet placed next to the door. Goosebumps mantled your burning skin, due to the harsh contrast with the gelid surface of the antique cabinet, but your mind was too dizzy for you to react to that sharp contact, so you just abandoned yourself to your lover’s grip, letting him take off the messy rest of your clothes. Once you were totally naked in front of him, Alfie impatiently pulled your legs apart, tinkering with his trousers for a few moments, before you could sense his throbbing tip rubbing against your entrance, having your hips spontaneously tilt in his direction. All of the air brusquely left your lungs as soon as he filled you with one vigorous thrust, his thick member sank deep into you and he held still for a while, profanities leaving his lips because of that intense delight. Your nails scratched his back multiple times and your legs intertwined behind his back as Alfie gradually increased his peace, he roughly cupped your chin while his other hand rabidly held you in place by your waist, leaving red marks on your flesh. A loud shout erupted from your throat as he furiously reached for a precise spot more than once, so that, prey of your fervent ecstasy, you dragged his face towards yours in order to rapaciously bite his lower lip. “A-alfie” His name echoed through the room and sounded like an unholy prayer coming from you, still that wasn’t enough for him, thus his hips started ramming into yours harder and faster, while he blurted out animalistic noises against your glowing neck. “Louder! Let them hear who you belong to” Alfie was literally growling, still furious about the previous events, he kept mercilessly thrusting into you, producing clamorous thuds with each violent impact, as you threw your head back in pure bliss and continued to scream his name, steadily raising your trembling voice after every lunge. “Good girl, look at me” His fingers grabbed your chin again when he muttered that order with his usual husky voice, and he forced you to move your face enough to capture your irises, blurred by pleasure, with his own, greedy and firm. “Only I am allowed to fuck you like this. Only I can make you scream like this” He never looked away from your half-shut eyes, neither he stopped his frantic movements, while he whispered those arousing words, almost like it was a secret yours to keep; you simply nodded, unable to pronounce real sentences by that time, since you were busy crying out loud, a span away from his nose. Then, all of a sudden, Alfie held both of your wrists in one of his large palms, pinning your arms above your head, against the curtains covering the opaque windows of his office. “I want to feel you tighten around my cock, ‘want you to cum for me again”
His thumb went to ably stroke your clit, but the truth was that his adamant tone alone was enough to drive you over the edge, you finally reached for your second release, as your whole body tensed and your thighs started shaking, still gathered around his solid waist. Alfie slowed down his thrusts while he relished the last sporadic convulsions of your walls, riding the end of his own orgasm and moaning your name with his closed eyes turned to the ceiling. You immediately collapsed onto his toned chest, as he started tenderly rubbing your exhausted shape, both your heavy breaths being the only sound breaking that sudden silence, until you sleepily giggled against his collarbone. “What?” He mumbled while covering the skin of your shoulder with sweet butterfly kisses. “I was just thinking that I’ll never be able to show my face in this office again”
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A bit of fun...
An Interview from village magazine. 2005
A model life
Monaghan-born Caitriona Balfe was recruited shaking a charity box outside a Dublin shopping centre. Now she is Ireland's most successful international model. Based in New York and the darling of some of the world's top designers, she talks to Ailbhe Jordan
It’s just after five on a Tuesday evening in Soho. Streams of harassed-looking people scurry in both directions along Spring Street, seeking escape from the mayhem of midweek Manhattan in the form of the nearest taxi or subway station.
Nobody but me seems to notice a tall, thin young woman leaning against the wall of a grey building. We have never met in person and a curtain of long, tousled brown hair obscures her face as she flicks through a notebook, but it’s definitely her.
Since Derek Daniels of Assets Modelling agency spotted her six years ago collecting money for charity outside the Swan Shopping Centre in Rathmines, Caitriona Balfe has quietly strutted her way to the upper echelons of the fashion industry.
Nineteen years old and intent on becoming an actress at the time, Balfe modelled part-time in Dublin for a year until a visiting scout from Ford Modelling agency asked her to work for them in Paris. She decided to take a year out from her drama course at the Dublin Institute of Technology to pursue the opportunity.
In her six years as a model, Balfe has strutted down the catwalk for every big name from Gucci to Marc Jacobs. Vogue are big fans too; the fashion bible has put her on the cover of its US, French, German, Spanish and Italian editions.
After Paris, Balfe moved to Milan, where she became the darling of Dolce & Gabanna, who still hire her to work exclusively at their spring and autumn shows. Three years ago, she moved to New York to work for US based Elite Modelling agency. One of her first castings was for Cuban-American designer Narciso Rodriguez, who was so impressed, he made her his muse.
Balfe is, without a doubt, the most successful international model Ireland has produced.
On this evening she looks up and smiles, revealing a heart-shaped face, with sharp, pixie-like features and bright blue eyes. Wearing not a scrap of makeup, she looks younger than her 26 years. Her complexion is pale, clear and spattered with light brown freckles.
She is around 5ft 10”, but seems smaller because of her narrow, thin frame. Dressed in a loose, taupe-colored top, skinny blue jeans that are not as tight as they should be and red flats, she personifies that casual glamour look to which all the downtown hipsters aspire.
She suggests we go to Balthazar, a French Bistro beloved of New York models and celebrities.
As we walk, she assumes a posture so elegant and so straight it looks as though she is leaning backwards slightly.
Balfe’s family comes from Tyvadet, a small town in Co Monaghan. Her accent is neutral from years of living abroad, but every now and then, the Monaghan dialect peeps through – when she says “cool”, for instance, which she says a lot.
Weekend reservations at Balthazar are nearly impossible to make if one is not famous and has not booked at least a couple of weeks in advance.
“Go on ahead,” she says, holding the door open. The hostess directs us to a small table at the window. Balfe glides into her booth without pushing the table out first. “I’m going to have some cake,” she says, lowering her voice.“I got my wisdom teeth out on Friday, so I’ve basically been eating soup all weekend,” she adds quickly, touching her jaws with both hands.
“I was supposed to go to LA today, but I cancelled that because my face was still a bit swollen.”
Conversations between any two people renting in New York City inevitably turn to apartments and – more importantly – locations. Balfe lives in Greenpoint, a trendy Polish neighbourhood in Brooklyn. “I was about three years in the city but I love Brooklyn,” she says.
“It’s just really cute. It’s kind of European, like most of the streets are all mom and pop stores, there’s not one McDonalds. They’ve got all cute little vegetable stores, there’s a meat market and a fish market.”
She pauses to take a sip of coffee.
“We’ve got the ground floor of a building. Its got like a back garden and a basement, which is really cool. My boyfriend has his studio in the basement.”
The boyfriend she refers to is Dave Milone, a guitarist with the band Radio4, who are releasing a new album in New York this week.
“I’ve been with him for three years, he’s from New Jersey,” she says rolling her eyes as New Yorkers often do at the mention of their neighbouring and, in their opinion, less cosmopolitan state.
“It’s a bit of a cliché, I know, a model and a rocker. It’s good though.”
At 26, Balfe has said she considers herself to be one of the “grannies” of the modeling industry.
“Of my five really close friends whom I started with, there’s only one whose still modeling,” she says.
“The rest have gone off to college or have real jobs. I still feel like I’m at college,” she says, stirring her coffee and putting the spoon down on the saucer with a loud clink.
“When I see some of these younger girls who are starting at 17 or so, it’s like being at school, you know. You’ve a bunch of girls who are like, teenagers and of course everyone’s like: ‘is she doing better than me?’ and all that. I was a little bit older when I started, I was 19 and I never really experienced that. I mean, you’re always going to come across a bitch but there’s nothing you can really do about that. I’m getting older now and it does feel weird when you come across someone who tries to intimidate you in that really high school way. It’s like: ‘why am I feeling insecure because of this?’ And it’s funny, because it’s all based on weight, it’s like: ‘you put on a few pounds,’ or something stupid.”
At this point the desserts arrive.
“I feel like the girls are getting very skinny again,” she says, following the movement of the plate with her eyes as the waitress places it in front of her.
“When I started it was like, a lot of the Brazilian girls were around, it was all about being voluptuous and I think in the last couple of seasons there’s been a lot of really, really skinny girls again. I mean, you can tell when somebody doesn’t eat, you can tell by the big rings under their eyes or when they’re kind of quiet, they’re whole personality is kind of...” she slouches down and drops her tongue out in a display of lifelessness.
She picks up her spoon and digs it into the cake, then turns the plate around and spears the scoop of vanilla ice-cream that is perched on top.
“I’ve always been thin, you know?” she says, while her mouth is full.
“My aunts and uncles will be like, ‘oh do you eat?’ but I’ve always been lucky that I can. I eat more than Dave. I go through very, very sporadic, once-in-a-blue-moon fits of going running and stuff, but I’m so lazy. When shows are coming up I just do some exercises at home and maybe not have so much chocolate cake the week before. A few more salads, that kind of thing.”
Next week, Balfe expects to be working in LA for a couple of days, from where she will fly to Miami for a photo shoot, before returning to New York on Sunday to do a shoot for Spanish Vogue.
“It sounds glamorous, it’s not though, it really isn’t,” she says, holding another spoonful of cake up to her lips.
“I am moving towards retirement now – from this,” she continues. “Every year I’m asked and I’m like, ‘oh another year or two.’ But, if I’m still doing this at the end of the next two years, somebody shoot me, please. I mean, it’s really good and it allows me to live a good life. I’m building a house in Monaghan, I can do stuff like that. I can set myself up for the future and stuff. But being an actress was the thing that I always wanted to do. Before I ever started modelling.”
Balfe has not yet found her perfect role, but played a convincing seductress in 2002 when she modelled for lingerie company Victoria’s Secret during their catwalk show, an annual TV spectacle that that has propelled models like Gisele Bundchen and Heidi Klum to international fame.
“Oh God, my poor Da,” she groans, cradling her head in her hands.
“I think it was the Sun or the Mirror back home had this headline: ‘Garda’s daughter goes und-y-cover.’ I wondered what I was doing in there, this pasty little Irish girl amongst all these Brazilian goddesses. I’d gotten a spray tan and they put full body make-up on me but I was 10 times whiter than anyone there. It took very little clothes and quite a lot of champagne to get through that one.”
She shakes her head, smiling at the memory. “Its funny you know? Normally when I’m out, I don’t really dress up. It’s amazing how people will absolutely not even notice you until they hear the word ‘model,’ and then they’re like: ‘Oh.’ And I’m like: ‘what?’ Two seconds ago, I was nothing, you know?”
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⌠ BAHAR SAHIN, 19 CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AYLIN KALELI! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (hair pulled back with a chanel ribbon, lycra boots with razor blades in the heel, champagne and french macarons in a bubble bath, wiping your tears with a $100 bill). when it’s the (leo)’s birthday on 8/3/00 they always request their FRENCH FRIES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.
hi, hello, i’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and i was going to wait until june but with all these new characters i just got too excited ?! so, fuck it, i’m here now, i can’t help myself. for plots, feel free to message me here on tumblr or hmu on discord @ #kati7600, but check out her intro below the cut ! // ty @gallagherintro
INSPIRATION.
bex baxter – gallagher girls
carmen cortez – spy kids
blair waldorf – gossip girl
cher horowitz – clueless
torrance shipman – bring it on
jackie burkhart – that 70s show
BACKGROUND.
both of her parents work for the national intelligence organization of turkey, they’re big shots and they make a lot of money! she has two older sisters and she’s born into a world of wealth and expectations. it won’t take her long to learn more languages than years she has lived, and waking up early to run drills and do obstacle courses with her sisters is routine.
picture perfect on the outside, the household within goes through turmoil. her mother is promoted to the director of the NIO and it puts a strain on her parent’s relationship. her father starts taking more business trips, and aylin and her sisters spend nights sitting on the top of the stairs, listening in on phone conversations. aylin’s the youngest, so she doesn’t really understand what’s going on and needs to have it broken down.
aylin had always LOVED her parent’s love story – they met on a mission and they were partners for years, it’s all very romantic. so the divorce leaves her confused. how could you stop loving someone? how could you just give up?
both of her parents are an active part of her life, the divorce is...fairly amicable and they share custody. the only thing aylin doesn’t like is her father’s new girlfriend, young and totally uninvolved in the world of espionage. the girl could be her sister. aylin spends her time split between two houses, half-belonging to each, but her parents feel GUILTY so aylin quickly learns how to use that guilt to get what she wants, whether it’s freedom or material goods.
she’s a little spoiled, but it doesn’t satisfy her. nothing really does, it just makes her feel sort of empty, so she works harder, filling time with books and training with her older sisters who tell her cool stories from their spy prep schools and teach aylin things they’ve learned when they come home for breaks. aylin long for the day when she’s not splitting your time between other people’s homes and she’s in a place that she can really call her own.
she goes to the same spy prep school that her older sisters did in london. she’s competitive from the get-go because she’s a kelali and people already expect things from her to begin with. she smiles when people call her by her sister’s name or mention her mother, but inside she’s seething, eager to prove that she’s good because she works hard, not because she’s someone’s sister or daughter.
it’d be a lie to say that aylin didn’t step on a few toes, and the way she skyrocket to valedictorian is a little less than savory – she reports her competition for illicit activities, and...perhaps she planted something in their locker idk!!!
she has her pick of spy prep colleges across the nation, but her mom really encourages her to choose gallagher. why? that’s weird, her mom never went there and neither does the rest of her family! but aylin really likes the idea of a place that’s all hers and she’s always wanted to see america, so she chooses it. she’s a bit smug about being ahead of others because she’s been reading books on espionage since age 4, and if you don’t know sixteen languages, stay out of her way.
PERSONALITY:
PROUD. aylin is a very proud person, she grew up in an affluent household with important parents. when faced with a challenge, it’s her pride that tends to motivate her to be the best because she feels like she has something to prove, and she’ll turn her nose up at you until she gets it. this also makes her stubborn.
INTELLIGENT. aylin was raised in an environment where she was being trained since her childhood, knowing about espionage since she could speak, but she also has an iq of 122, so not quite genius level but she’s getting there. she’s the head cheerleader type that you’d be surprised is actually really good at math.
HARD-WORKING. queen of taking on too many extracurriculars at all times! honestly she tends to overexert herself until she burns out, but she wants it all – the exciting social life, the straight As, the meaningful connections, the parties, when does she sleep? maybe never.
SNOBBISH. honestly, she doesn’t mean to come off as a snob but she definitely does because she hasn’t really known anything other than crystal dishware and fancy clothes. she doesn’t even comprehend that other people don’t come from the same place of privilege that she has.
FUN-LOVING. the girl you want to party with! just because she’s a good student, she wouldn’t want you to think that she doesn’t know how to have a good time. aylin operates in extremes, so she parties just as hard as she studies and has a tendency to get carried away, but let it be known that she’s doing this for herself and not for anyone else’s attention.
MANIPULATIVE. aylin will step on toes to get what she wants, and she’s not scared to fight dirty. she tends to stay in the lines of what’s legal of course, but if she sees a window into getting what she wants, she’ll say what she needs to in order to get it. honestly, she can be a bit callous with the way she uses people and doesn’t always understand the effects of her actions. she would tell you that the ends justify the means. yikes.
INDEPENDENT. doesn’t need you or anyone else and wants you to know it. her confidence is genuine and real, and she doesn’t attribute any of her accomplishments to her family name – she’s not insecure about it, she knows that she’s good at what she does.
HEADCANONS.
started school early, so she’s a bit young for her grade by a year. she sees this as a positive thing and will brag to you about how she’s younger AND smarter. annoying.
acts like she really likes healthy food and eats a salad in public ( will tell you that’s her favorite food ) but she’s weak for things that are greasy and fried and will be pigging out in secret. her favorite food is french fries but you probably wouldn’t guess that about her !
languages she knows: english, french, turkish, arabic, german, kurmanji, italian, dutch, spanish, mandarin, japanese, latin, hindustani, malay, russian, bengali. some are better than others and some she reads more than she can really speak.
taught herself to skateboard since coming to america since it seemed like the thing to do based on watching american films. she will ride her little penny board in high heels and loves it ! and you thought i couldn’t make her more annoying !
tons of expensive lingerie but u can look but don’t touch.
bisexual but still not interested in you.
leo with a virgo rising and cancer moon. i am so SORRY !
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
SERENA TO HER BLAIR. literally her best friend ever, but they probably have a sort of on-off friendship because they’re strong personalities and get in each other’s business. however, when it comes down to it, they’ll always put the other first and they love each other immensely, would kill a man for the other. but they’re also pretty competitive too.
GIRL SQUAD. i just want her to have a couple close girl friends that are all close...you know. i would love if one of them was more subdued and totally chill about everything, maybe a wallflower type, and then another that’s kind of nerdy ? but also cool, you know. i’m just dreaming.
EX/BESTIE. aylin and this person used to date like forever ago, but mutually decided that they made better friends than romantic partners. they care about each other a lot, and they probably make jokes about how they USED to date. a healthy ex connection basically !
ON/OFF THING. because for every healthy ex i also want something kind of toxic. essentially it’s not good for either of them and they just keep going back to each other because, well, it’s a place of comfort or whatever. they drive each other fucking crazy though and no one can keep up with whether they hate each other’s guts today or if they’re all heart eyes.
SWORN ENEMY. but for a justified reason, like aylin probably screwed them over for something academic or even in a campus club or something. if your character went to a spy prep school, maybe they’re the person that aylin screwed out of the valedictorian role ? might submit a WC for that cause. fun.
PROJECT. like my fair lady, be aylin’s eliza doolittle, let her she’s the man you, whatever. essentially, your character might by shy, nervous, or new to the spy world and aylin wants to give them a metaphoric ( or maybe even physical ! ) makeover and help them get acclimated, teach them the ways of the world. i’m also picturing that pic of the lesbians, u know what i mean. i can’t find it, but i google searched “girl doing the other girls makeup, gay”
FORBIDDEN FRIENDSHIPS/LOVE. idk something totally not allowed. if this was sooner i’d want her ass to have a crush on a witness protection kid. however, her parents work for the turkish NIO, so perhaps your muse’s parents or family have been involved in something rivaling that so they’re not supposed to get along.
MARRIED COUPLE FRIENDS. these are friends that are so close that they’re practically a married couple?? i’d love to do a platonic m/f thing with this, where they fight and get on to each other like they’re married but love each other like it too. lil grandparents of their friend group.
CRUSHER. someone who has a crush on her, probably because they’re fascinated with the idea of her and not her true problematic self. she’d probably be kinda rude to them and i’d love to plot this out long enough for that crush to turn to dislike once they recognize the selfish parts of her or notice she’s been making fun of them. maybe a flipped scenario.
ONE NIGHT STAND. maybe after a few too many drinks, they hooked up. something recent so we can make it super awkward and potentially funny.
SET-UP. your character’s parents are close friend’s with aylin’s and they’re trying to set aylin up with your character. aylin and your character are NOT compatible at all and it’s hilarious.
OVERSEAS. they met while they were both abroad together one summer, and they accidentally got into some trouble with international police maybe just for being too drunk on the streets or acting stupid, climbing stuff. aylin considers your character a liability and has avoided them since, disregarding the fun times they had.
RIVALS/ENEMIES WITH SEXUAL TENSION.
EXISTING CONNECTIONS.
NAZ FARHI. her cousin. the two of them don’t NOT get along...but aylin really thought she would come to a school and be the only one of her family members there and then naz showed up ! determined to make it clear that she’s the best.
JO TRAN. rival/dislike. took one of the upper-level courses because she could and her attitude got on jo’s nerves because what doesn’t get on jo’s nerves. aylin’s just the epitome of everything that pisses jo off.
KASSANDRA SUTTON. bad friend to. one of those friendships where one person takes more than they give, and it’s not ON PURPOSE, but kass is really just so easy to take advantage of, aylin’s ALWAYS running to her when she needs a favor.
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Modelling to slavery.
Jack was a 20 year old, about to complete his National Service, awaiting his university life. Unfortunately for that young straight jock, life was going to change, forever. Jack was a fit young man who had much interest in gyming. Body building became his hobby and he used to work out whenever he booked out of camp.
Jack came from a family that was struggling to meet ends. His dad passed on when he was just 11 years old and his mother had to do 2 jobs to provide for him and his sister. Jack couldn’t wait to finish his studies and help his mother out. Mother’s day was around the corner and Jack wanted to show his appreciation to his mother by buying her something special.
Few weeks before Mother’s day, Jack was walking down Jurong Point when he came across a beautiful diamond bracelet. “Mum would love that” thought Jack as he looked at the price tag. “UP: $699, Offer Price: $500”, read the price tag. There was no way Jack could afford that with his NS pay. He decided to continue strolling to find something else. Jack was suddenly approached by a promoter and his first line caught Jack’s attention:
Pro: We are looking for young talents like you to model for our clothe line, are you interested? Would you like to try out?
Jack: Modelling? Me?
Pro: Yes sir, you look like someone our agency needs, would you like to try out?
Jack: I’m not too sure, I…I…
Pro: We understand, are you 18 years or older?
Jack: Yes I am.
Pro: Here is our card and the details to our auditions which will be held in one week. If you are interested, please feel free to be there, no need to bring anything, we will be giving you some of our new season collections, if you feel comfortable wearing and posing according to our crew’s instructions, you can continue, if not you may leave with our collections as a gift for trying out. This is our way of thanking you for your time and effort.
Jack: Jack slipped the card into his wallet as he walked on thinking about the offer. He ended up returning home not buying anything as he wondered if the modelling agency would pay him enough for him to buy the bracelet.
While in camp, Jack stared at himself in the mirror a few times, wondering if he was modelling material, he then decided to give it a try, it was a win win situation for him. Or so he thought.
One week passed by, Jack arrived at the hotel ballroom where the audition was being held.
Crew: Welcome sir, you are auditioning I suppose?
Jack: Yes. I am.
Crew: My name is Stan, I’ll be guiding you through this process, please follow me to the men dressing room sir.
Upon reaching the room, Jack saw a few more guys, hanging out, trying on clothes and getting their hair and make-up done.
Stan: Sir, we have our new season collection laid out on the table, please choose whatever you wish to wear, try on the sizes in those rooms and prepare for the photo-shoot in 15mins time. Our image consultants will prepare you for the shoot.
Jack had no idea what to choose so he decided to go with whatever he liked, slipping on a pair of jeans and a floral shirt along with some nice black leather shoes. The image consultant then gave Jack a make-over and prepped him for the shoot.
When it was his turn, Jack was led into a room with lights and cameras and along with the cameraman there were 2 more guys, one dressed in a suit and another, probably the man’s assistant.
The man in the suit then introduced himself, “Good morning, I am Samuel, the owner and founder of this company and this is my assistant, Gary. Sir, can you introduce yourself and please explain to me why you wish to model and especially model for my company”.
Jack: I am Jack, erm, 20 year old, currently in NS. Actually I have never modelled before but I am just trying out, hoping to earn some cash on the side to help out my family.
Samuel: Okay, thanks for being frank to us. Pose for the camera please.
(Few clicks later)
Samuel: Mr Jack, you seem way too amateur for this, I’m sorry we have to let you go.
Jack: Oh, it’s ok, thanks for letting me try.
Jack was about to rush out of the room from humiliation when Gary called him aside.
Gary: Jack right? Listen, erm Mr Samuel has other plans for you, he wishes to help you out, in terms of side earnings, you interested?
Jack: Help me? How?
Gary: Listen, go to the 15th floor, room number 1503 and wait there, here take the keycard. Don’t breathe a word about this, ok?
Jack: Erm ok.
Jack entered the room and sat on the couch waiting for someone to tell him what was going on; he was already late for a lunch date with his friends. After what seemed like hours, he heard the door open, Mr Samuel walked in.
Mr Samuel was the owner and founder of an International, multi-billion dollar company; he spent his life building this company that though he was almost 45, he was still single. Mr Samuel had a secret, he was gay but he never allowed anyone to find out. He believed money will buy him anything he wants, even humans. He had bought many nights and days with models and actors he found interesting or hot to him and Jack was his next target.
Samuel: Well Jack, please, sit down, anything to drink?
Jack: No thanks, erm may I know what is going on?
Samuel: You need to calm down young man; I’ve seen many like you. Listen, I have a proposition for you. I have a personal collection of special clothe line for men and models for those are anonymous and of course, the photos won’t show my model’s faces too. That album on that table have a few examples, take a look and if you are interested, I will personally do the photo shoot with you, right here, right now, if not, you may walk out.
Jack walked over to check the album which had pictures of guys in male lingerie. Some of which were lacy, almost revealing the guys junks and some only had a small piece of cloth to cover just the front jewels. Some had their asses exposed. However, none of the photos showed the faces of the model.
Jack: WTF, this is insane. I’m not a retard. Fuck you guys.
Jack exclaimed as he stormed towards the door.
Samuel: Before you leave, Mr Jack, I must say, this is a one-time opportunity, each of these models are paid thousands for EACH photo. The choice is yours.
Jack: Thousands? You must be joking.
Samuel: Why would I joke? You think I am very free to have this conversation with you for nothing? Listen up, if you are willing to take this offer, you will earn thousands for less than 4 hours, if not, leave empty handed.
Jack: How can I trust you?
Samuel: Everything will be in black and white Jack, we will sign a contract here and now before we begin the shoot.
Jack sat on the couch and thought hard. I need the cash, no face anyways. Should I?
Jack: How much for one photo?
Samuel: I can’t say without seeing what we are working with first.
Jack: I’ll do it, but the contract?
Samuel: Here, read it, I had it prepared for your name when you register, I will be preparing my camera in the meantime.
Jack read the contract line by line but was interrupted by Samuel when he asked for Jack’s waist size.
Jack walked over to check on the waist size and came back to read the contract but Samuel rushed him to be quick thus Jack signed the contract without completely reading it. Especially the main point written in bold “This contract allows the party to be involved in film, head to toe, with or without apparels”.
Samuel: This is my special camera that has done so much magic for me, now Jack, please remove your clothes down to your undies, let me decide on the price. I won’t snap any pictures, the camera is off and it will be with you till we negotiate.
Jack felt confident that he was in control, he placed the camera facing away from him and took his shoes, jeans and shirt off. Standing in his tight white Hush Puppies underwear.
Samuel: Nice, looking good, nice package, how hairy are you down there? Pull your underwear down just a bit.
Jack pulled his underwear down a bit to reveal a thin layer of hair.
Samuel: Perfect. You’re a perfect candidate Jack! You’re going to make some money today boy! Listen, I’ll pay you, $1000 for each photo you let me snap and for each apparel you wear, I will give you an additional $100 dollars. What do you say?
Jack: S1000? For one photo? Sure, will I get to see the photos first?
Samuel: Yes of course, we both will look through the photos in my laptop, in fact, I will connect the camera to my laptop once the shoot starts and once we are done, each photo taken will be there, we will choose the best and final payment will be based on that.
Jack: Okay, I’ll pick one apparel and wear it on, will be back.
Jack went to the toilet to change while Samuel picked up the camera and sat down on the chair. Jack was unaware that Samuel’s camera was programmed, every 5th shot taken will be sent to a hidden folder in Samuel’s Laptop and will be deleted from the main folder. Samuel kissed the camera and awaited for Jack. Jack came out wrapped in a towel, feeling shy about being almost naked.
Samuel: I don’t have all day kid! Drop that towel.
Jack dropped the towel to reveal a red laced lingerie which was revealing his tool to Samuel. Samuel’s dick was starting to harden in his business pants.
Samuel starting snapping the photos, zooming into Jack’s dick every now and then to get some snaps too. Every 5th photo taken was either a photo of Jack’s dick, ass or a photo revealing Jack’s face.
After trying on nearly 5 apparels, Jack was tired.
Jack: Can we stop now? I’ve been posing for nearly 4 hours now.
Samuel: Sure, why don’t you go get dressed and we can look through the photos. I’ll order you something to eat too, is Italian okay?
Jack: What if you delete them while I’m changing?!
Samuel: Boy, you still don’t trust me. Fine you can change here while I order the food. The camera and the laptop is right here, in front of you.
Jack: Thanks.
Jack changed into his own clothes and both of them had their late lunch. Samuel then started pulling out the photos and Jack was looking at all of them. After another hour of vetting through, they filtered out 15 photos that both parties could agree on.
Samuel: 15 photos with 5 apparels that will be $15,500, okay? The money will be transferred to your account before you leave this room.
Jack: $15K?! Wow! No joke?
Samuel: Check your account now.
Jack: OMG! It’s in. I thought it was going to be a scam. Mr Samuel, thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much.
Samuel: Relax kid, this $15000 is nothing, it’s not even 10% of my daily revenue.
Jack: I apologise for not trusting you sir.
Samuel: I want to help you more kid, I have a new set of apparels coming in, next Month, but I won’t be in Singapore, I will be in Tokyo, would you like to come to Tokyo, for another shoot? I’ll double your price per photo? Fully paid trip too.
Jack: I’m in NS, I need to apply for leave, can I get back to you?
Samuel: sure, heres my card with my personal number, remember kid, you signed a contract, this must stay a secret.
Jack: I promise it will, thank you sir.
Jack left the hotel feeling happy, buying some gifts for his mother. Little did that boy know he was in deep trouble.
(Few weeks passes on)
Samuels personal phone vibrates and the message reads “Mr Samuel, my leave got approved, I can come with you for a maximum of 10 ten days”. Samuel grins, looking at the secret photos he snapped along with the recordings of Jack changing in the toilet. Samuel plan was about to reach it’s climax.
Both parties reach Tokyo and Jack checks into his room, a huge suite with his own pool and a separate bedroom.
Samuel: Rest well kid, tomorrow night, we will be doing a night shoot, I need some cool shots too.
Jack: Sure sir. I will be there tomorrow.
The shoot day arrives and Jack is feeling excited to make more money, but things were going to change.
Samuel: As usual Jack, same camera, same Laptop, apparels there, but this time, you will do everything as I say, including your pose, okay?
Jack: Yes sir. I’ll get changed.
Jack changes into one of the apparels and walks out into the room to find Mr Samuel sitting down wrapped in a towel as well. He is stunned to see Mr Samuel almost naked and starts wondering what is happening.
Samuel: What’s wrong kid? I’m also having a break here, I don’t want to be in that suit all the time, now listen up, sit on that bed with your legs wide open.
Samuel starts snapping a few shots with a few poses changes, after trying on 5 apparels, he stops.
Samuel: Now, time to add some to my own collection.
Jack: Huh?
Samuel: Take those off and show me that dick, I need a few snaps of it.
Jack: What?! You’re kidding right?
Samuel: Does it look like I’m kidding? Do as I say!
Jack: No way! Fuck you! I’m not gay, neither am I a prostitute or whatever. I want to go to my room!
Jack grabs his clothes to get changed but Samuel grabs his clothes and flings them across the room. He then pushes Jack against the room door and pins him against the door “listen kid, you will do as I say, or else you will pay”.
Though Samuel as in his late 40s, all those expensive personal trainers, dieticians and body supplements made him a hunky daddy with strong muscles, capable of easily pinning the 20 year old down.
Jack: Mr Samuel, please can we talk first, please sir, please let me go….
Samuel: No funny business kid!
Samuel loosens his grip on Jack and made him sit on the chair.
Jack: Mr Samuel, please, I’m not into all these nudity or whatever, let me go. I don’t even want the money, please.
Samuel: Listen carefully, you signed a contract and now you will do as it says. You read it right? Especially this line?
Samuel shows him the line stating that he has to do as the client’s wish. With or without clothes on.
Jack: I never read that. Can we not? Please sir. Please! I beg you.
Samuel: Look, as I said earlier, face isn’t involved anyways, what are you afraid of? I’m paying you double you know?
Jack: But, I’m so nervous, I’m scared. Please sir.
Samuel: 5 mins to consider, if you’re backing out, this will be a break in contract, my lawyers will see you.
Jack: No no, please no. My mother will be devastated. Okay I’ll do it. Just no face, please.
Samuel: Sure, once again you will vet through the photos with me. Now take those off, apply this oil on yourself and start posing.
Jack did as he was told, posing naked in front of the camera, revealing his lean fit body and his dick to the horny daddy behind the camera. Every 5th shot compromised Jack’s face, without his knowledge. After vetting through the photos, Samuel told Jack to get dressed and to get ready for dinner while vetting through the photos. Jack was so embarrassed to see nude photos of himself on the laptop but he felt a little comfort that none revealed his face.
Samuel: Be here tomorrow morning for the last shoot and payment will be given to you in full tomorrow morning, understood?
Jack: Yes sir.
Jack went back to his room and lay in his bed, wondering if all this was worth it. He couldn’t remember what time he fell asleep, he woke up to his alarm clock ringing away. He quickly showered up, got dressed and headed to Mr Samuel’s room.
Jack: Good morning Mr Samuel.
Samuel: Good morning kid. Before we get to work, we need to speak. Sit down there.
Jack: Sure.
Samuel: Look here kid, I’ve gotten enough photos of you, now let’s get to the real deal. I can make you famous and rich, but I will need something from you. Something special.
Jack: What is it?
Samuel: Yourself.
Jack: What?! Nonsense.
Samuel: Really? Do I sound nonsensical? Crazy? What do you think your friends and family will think when they see this?
Samuel turns the laptop screen to Jack revealing photos of him naked, with his face.
Jack: What? No way. You said no face!
Samuel: I don’t have the patience to explain, basically, I wanted you from the moment I saw you and you fell right into my trap. Now, you do as I say all these remains a secret shoot, or else, you will be the world’s latest trend. Imagine billboards with you in those skimpy clothes. Pure art!
Jack: You’re crazy, how dare you!
Jack runs over and blows a punch onto Samuel’s face. Samuel quickly recovers from the punch and pins Jack on the floor. Jack starts shouting for help.
Samuel: If you don’t stop shouting, those photos will be up on the net within seconds.
Jack: I will call the police.
Samuel: You think the police will trust a random 20 year old or the guy who can give them their lifetime in a single Cheque. You have no way out of this!
Jack: The contract, that will be my proof.
Samuel: I don’t wish to repeat myself, I have my tracks covered.
Jack: What do you want from me?!
Samuel: I want you! Now take off your shirt and lay on the bed! You will be mine!
Jack: No. No way!
Samuel: Fine. Your mum, her name is Stella, right? I think I have her number in my phone, she may love seeing her son’s special stills.
Jack: No no. Please. Ok, as you say. Ok.
Jack starts crying and lowers his head. He unbuttons his shirt and walks over to the bed. While Jack is walking over, Samuel turns on his laptop’s camera and remotely turns on the camera on the tripod that is now facing the bed. Jack fails to notice this. He lies on the bed and closes his eyes.
Jack: Mr Samuel, is there anything else that I can do instead of this? Please sir, I am not gay. Please.
Samuel: Shut up. I hate it when my partner speaks too much. All I want to hear is you moaning and crying from pure pleasure.
Samuel removes his shirt and climbs on to the bed and lies beside Jack. He runs his finger along Jack’s body, gently pinching his nipples along the way. Jack starts crying silently not wanting to make Samuel angry. Samuel closes in on Jack’s face and locks his lips on to Jack’s. Jack struggles to break free from the man’s lips but Samuel is way too strong. Jack’s struggle pisses Samuel off and he grabs Jack’s crotch In anger and whispers “I said, do as I say”.
Jack: Sorry! Sorry! Ahhh..please it hurts, please. I’m sorry”
Samuel let’s go of Jack’s crotch and slips his hands into Jack’s jeans while he slowly kisses Jacks body, moving lower n lower. Samuel could feel Jack’s dick getting hard and his crotch was feeling slimy with precum. Though Jack wanted to fight this as much as possible, his was getting turned on by Samuel’s dominance. His body liked what his mind and heart didn’t.
Samuel: Seems like you like this huh?
Jack: No sir, please. Anything but this.
Samuel reaches Jack’s crotch and buries his face into Jack’s crotch, sniffing the young jock’s crotch, taking in the smell of his precum. Jack attempts to push Samuel’s head off of him, trying to stop Samuel but this turns up making Samuel very mad. Samuel gets up and walks over to his phone.
Samuel: You haven’t learnt to listen to your elder’s words. Now you will face the consequences of not giving in to me. I shall start off by sending the picture of you in that sexy red lacy underwear.
Jack: No no, I’m sorry. Please.
Samuel: Sorry? How many times are you going to apologise. I’m annoyed by your disobedience. Who do you want me to send it to? Your mum?
Jack: Sir please, I beg you, please.
(Jack gets off the bed and kneels in front of Samuel and starts begging him”
Jack: I won’t stop you anymore, please sir. Don’t send it. Please.
Samuel: You already said this before. I don’t like to repeat things.
Jack quickly gets up and places Samuels hand on his crotch. “Take me, please don’t send those images, please” he begged. “Now that is a good boy” said Samuel as he placed his phone down and lifted Jack off his feet and threw him on the bed. He unzipped Jack’s jeans and pulled it off. Jack laid on the bed, in his white CK underwear, revealing his body to Samuel. Samuel places both of Jacks hands above his head and ordered him to keep his hands there. He started massaging Jack’s crotch. The young lad’s dick started getting hard and within seconds, Jack was hard as rock. His CK undies could barely hold his 6inches in. He pulls Jack’s balls out and starts licking them making the young jock shiver in pleasure. Jack has never had sex before and he has only seen this being done in porn videos he used to watch. Soon enough, Jacks CK undies came off of him. He was laying naked and Samuel stood by the bed side, watching the hot jock as he took off his pants, revealing the black jockstrap he was wearing inside. He climbs beside Jack and starts kissing the lad as he gently strokes Jack’s dick. Jack let out a soft moan as he felt the man’s strong hands grab his dick.
Samuel ordered Jack to place his hand on his crotch and rub his crotch while they continued kissing. Jack had no choice but to adhere to his master’s order. He starts rubbing Samuel’s dick, feeling the man’s hard 8 inch dick. Jack was surprised to feel such a big dick; he has never seen a dick that big, not even in porn videos.
Samuel: How does it feel boy?
Jack: You’re big sir; I’ve never seen anything like this before.
Samuel: Why stop at seeing and touching, I want you to taste it kid!
Jack was stunned, he knew this would happen eventually but he didn’t know Samuel was so big. He was hoping Samuel won’t be so big so that it would be easier for him to just get it over with. Samuel climbed over Jack placing his knees on either side of the boy. He pulled down the waist band of his jockstrap revealing his huge 8 inch rod, slapping it on the boy’s face. “Suck it!” he ordered. Jack hesitated as he has never done it before. “Relax, close your eyes and think of it as a huge ice Popsicle and suck it, no teeth boy, or you will lose your teeth” warned Samuel. Samuel closed his eyes and started wrapping his lips around Samuel’s dick. He couldn’t take more than 2 inch into his mouth but he was trying his best. The smell of the man’s dick was so strong and was making Jack feel uncomfortable but he knew he had no more chances with this man. If he stops the photos will leak out.
Samuel quietly reached for his phone which was in his pants pocket and started snapping pictures of the young lad with a huge dick in his mouth. Then Samuel started recording a video of Jack suck his dick. After gathering enough footage, Samuel threw his phone on to the pile of clothes on the floor and instructed Jack to open his eyes. He started forcing his dick slowly into Jack’s mouth making the boy gag on his dick. Jack’s eyes were tearing from having to suck and choke on a dick tat big. Yet Jack’s fear was something else, he was worried if Samuel would want to fuck him with that big dick. His body shivered when he thought of it.
Samuel grabbed Jack’s hand and guided him slowly towards his ass. He placed Jacks finger on his hole and instructs him to play with it. Jack stops sucking on the dick and asks “play?” Samuel replies “rub it, poke it, finger me, anything boy!” Jack is surprised. He wondered if this meant that Samuel doesn’t fuck. Does this mean that Samuel wants to be fucked? Jack felt lost, he had never watched gay porn before and this was too confusing for him to absorb.
Jack rubbed his finger on Samuels’s hole and this made Samuel moan very loudly. Jack found this weird. He continued doing it hoping to make the man cum quickly so it will all end but it only made Samuel hornier. Jack than had an idea, “maybe if I put my finger in there, it will make him cum faster” he thought. Jack forced his index finger into Samuel’s ass making Samuel jump in pain.
“WTF kid, don’t you know you have to lube it first!” exclaimed Samuel. Jack looked at him feeling lost. Samuel pulled Jacks finger out and started licking and sucking on the finger. Jack felt grossed out by that. Samuel then told Jack to finger him using that finger but slowly. Jack slowly puts his index finger into Samuels’s ass making the grown main moan in pleasure. “Now fuck me with that finger while you suck my dick” instructs Samuel. Jack starts to finger fuck Samuel’s ass going slowly but gradually increasing speed to see if it would make the man cum quickly. A few minutes passes by and no cum yet. Jack starts to feel tired and annoyed. Samuels slowly stands up and removes his jockstrap. He then gets into 69 position and starts sucking Jack’s dick. Jack is surprised but quickly feels overwhelmed by the pure pleasure of a warm mouth around his dick. Samuel takes Jack’s dick out of his mouth and says, “Suck my dick and play my ass boy, don’t wait around!” Jack starts sucking Samuels’s dick that is already covered in his saliva.
However, Jack was slowing down on the sucking as he liked the way Samuel’s mouth felt around his own dick. “Should I let this last a while longer? I really like my first blowjob” he thought to himself. Instead of using 1 finger, Jack uses 2 fingers to fuck Samuel and Samuel loved it. He loved having his ass played like that. Soon enough, Samuel wanted more than just 2 fingers. He got off the bed and broke the 69 position. He told Jack to lay flat and close his eyes. Jack questioned what Samuel was going to do as Jack was afraid of being fucked. “Just do it!” exclaimed Samuel.
Jack quickly closed his eyes. Samuel reached into the bedside drawer and took out a few things. The first was a butt plug. He told Jack,” Before we any further you’re going to need this in you first”. The butt plug wasn’t too big; in fact it wasn’t made big enough to hurt anyone. It was a mini butt plug. Jack felt an icy cold liquid on his hole and the boy opened his eyes and saw Samuel stuff the butt plug into his hole. It didn’t hurt much and Jack wondered, “Why would he put that there if he was going to fuck me?” Jack then quickly closed his eyes before Samuel caught him. Samuel them took out a condom, opened the pack and slipped it on to Jack’s dick which was rock hard. Jack felt something tight on his dick but he didn’t dare to open his eyes. He didn’t know what Samuel was putting on his dick.
Samuel then applied some lube on his hole and started to squat down over Jack’s dick. He grabbed Jack’s dick and aligned it to his hole. Slowly Jack’s 6 inches were disappearing into Samuel’s hole. Samuel could feel something very warm and soft and awkwardly tight. He didn’t know what it was but it felt awesome. Soon, Jack’s entire shaft was deep in Samuels’s hole and Samuel was moaning in pleasure. He starts riding the dick and instructs Jack to open his eyes.
Jack opens his eyes to see Samuel sitting on top of him, riding his dick with his own eyes closed and moaning away in pleasure. Jack is stunned and asks Samuel “you like to be fucked?” “What else do you think I am doing here? Shut up and fuck me!” orders Samuel. Jack moans as he feels Samuels’s tight ass wrapped around his dick. Samuel humps really slow not wanting to make the boy cum too quickly. Jack simply lies on the bed and enjoys his first fuck while Samuel does the work. “Though this is gay, I guess I can enjoy it while it lasts?” he thinks to himself.
Few minutes pass by and Samuel starts to get tired from humping on Jack’s dick. He stops humping and just moves slowly. Jack realises that Samuel is getting tired and a thought strikes him. “Since I am going to have to go through this, sort of forcefully, I should have a bit of revenge as well. Time to make this fucker cry” he thought to himself. He gently places his hands on either side of Samuel’s shoulder. Samuel looks at Jack and Jack responds with a smile. Before Samuel could make out what is going on, Jack starts drilling the man’s ass real hard. He uses his hands to hold Samuel down and starts pumping his dick hard into Samuel’s ass. Samuel tries to move but he can’t. “Like this you bitch?” exclaims Jack as he starts fucking Samuel. Samuel starts moaning and shouting in pain but he can’t loosen Jack’s grip as he was feeling tired from the long humping before this.
A few minutes goes on like this, Jack drilling Samuel hard and Samuel eyes start tearing from the pain. He had to do something quickly or he might lose to this young lad. He quickly starts scrambling around the bed, looking for something. He grabs a black remote control and presses number 5 on it. Immediately the butt plug in Jack’s ass starts pulsating and vibrating making the hunk shake. Jack jumps up and Samuel uses this to get off of Jack and hold him down. He flips Jack over and starts spanking his ass while saying “How dare you try to go over my head? You’re the bitch here!” he shouts. Jack tries to break free but the butt plug was sending strong pleasure into him.
Samuel spanks Jack till the poor boy’s butt cheeks turn red and he starts pleading “stop please, please, I got carried away, I’m sorry, he begged. Samuel lets go of Jack and Jack falls on the floor, clenching on to his butt cheeks while moaning in pain. He pulls the butt plug out and lay on the ground. Samuel remained sitting up on the bed slowly recovering from the hard drilling he received. “Look here kid, you’re already in deep trouble here, don’t think you can try to pull any tricks on me!”
Sorry sir, I’m sorry, I won’t do anything, I promise exclaimed Jack as he slowly stood up. Jack knew this won’t end unless he pleases Samuel thus he decides to do anything to please Samuel. Jack walks over to Samuel, kneels down and starts sucking Samuel’s flaccid dick. “Now that’s a good boy” Samuel said seductively, as he laid back to enjoy the young boy’s mouth wrap around his dick. Jack worked his tongue up and down Samuels’s dick as it started getting hard. He starts sucking on Samuel’s dick head, almost like a Popsicle and Samuel seemed to love it. Jack couldn’t believe Samuel was enjoying the blowjob; Jack was merely mimicking whatever he saw on porn videos. “Climb over me with your knees on either side of my shoulder”, I want to suck your dick too boy!” ordered Samuel. Both men started sucking each other off in a 69 position. Jack’s fingers gradually explored their limits by slowly inching towards Samuel’s hole. Samuel knew Jack has already given in but he remained alert in case Jack tried to pull off another one of his nonsense.
Jack licked his finger and starts rubbing Samuels’s hole with his saliva as he continues sucking Samuels dick. On the other hand, Jack’s dick was throbbing hard inside Samuel’s mouth. A few minutes go by and Samuel decides to take it up a notch. He starts dry fingering Jack which causes sharp pain for Jack. Jack stops sucking Samuels’s dick and starts moaning and grunting in pain. “Yea, that’s what you get when you try to play tricks” claims Samuel as he slowly starts to finger Jack. Jack decides to continue pleasing Samuel, thus he starts sucking on Samuels’s dick but this time round, he starts fingering Samuel as well.
Samuel has a very sensitive hole thus this gave him intense pleasure. This goes on for a few minutes, with each man fingering and sucking each other. Samuel then orders Jack to get off and slip on a new condom, “drill me boy, I want you to breed me” instructs Samuel. Jack slips on a new condom while Samuel lies on his back and spreads his legs, opening up for the boy. Jack aligns himself and thrusts into Samuel, slowly fucking the man.
Samuel: Faster! I want you to shoot your young boy load while fucking me.
Jack: Yes sir. As you please sir.
Jack starts fucking Samuel hard and the room fills with the noise of balls slapping against Samuels ass and both man moaning in pure pleasure. Samuels’s dick starts leaking pre cum and within minutes, Samuel starts shooting his load all over Jack and himself. The sight of an elder man cumming like that makes Jack shoot his thick warm load into the condom. Jack pulls out slowly and lies flat on the bed while Samuel gets up. Jack heads to the shower to clean up while Samuel packs up his camera which recorded every single bit of hot intense action that took place in the room and he then joins Jack in the shower and gives the young boy another hot blowjob, swallowing his young load.
Both men settle down for a drink, wrapped in their towels.
Samuel: Whatever happened here, will remain within these 4 walls. I’m sure you’re okay with that?
Jack: Yes Mr Samuel, please. I won’t spill a word. Please don’t release anything, my whole life will be ruined.
Samuel: Good.
Jack: Can I ask you for another favour?
Samuel: The money? Of course you will get it.
Jack: Actually, I did all that to please, can this be the first and last. I won’t be able to go through with this again. Please sir.
Jack starts crying as he pleads.
Samuel: Wipe your tears kid. I won’t ever bother you again. In fact, you won’t be seeing me again after this trip. This is my promise to you.
Jack: Thank you sir. Thank you so much.
Samuel: Now enjoy this drink, your money will credited to your account in the morning. We are leaving tomorrow so go do some shopping.
Jack goes back to his room and falls asleep from exhaustion. He wakes up, does some shopping and in no time, is on his way back to Singapore in his business class seat. He made a lot of money in that trip, but whether or not it’s worth the money was a question that will always linger in his mind.
Samuel on the other hand, starts looking out for more targets. Wonder which young boy gets pulled in the next time.
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Shopping with a 70-year-old British Lady
My most treasured memories have occurred because of unforeseen timing with the most unsuspected characters. The guest star in this tale is a seventy-year-old English lady I met at an art gallery opening.
My French WWOOFing host happened to be in London the same week I was. Knowing that I studied art, she invited me to a gallery to meet her and her husband. Mr. and Mme. Williams (he’s British, she’s French) were a sweet and quirky couple, but this journal isn’t about them.
This journal is about a bright-blue-eyed, fiery lady who approached me in the gallery restroom with a very confrontational question. “So what’d you think about the gallery?”
“I don’t have much to say about it… Cool stuff, but nothing really blew me away.”
“RIGHT?! Nobody’s original nowadays! It’s like copying somebody else’s outfit!” “Imagine showing up at a party and finding out that some chick is wearing the same dress as you!” She giggled.
Noticing my accent, she asked, “So where’re you from and how’d you end up here?” “San Francisco; traveling around Europe for a few months.” “Oh, I used to love San Francisco in the sixties! Which reminds me, I’m reading a book about Asian immigrants and mail-order brides and strong-willed women!” That was the first odd coincidence; my mom’s a strong-willed Asian immigrant who ended up in California thanks to technically being a mail-order bride (more on that story later.)
We started to leave the gallery. Assuming that we were about to part ways, we finally exchanged names. And that leads to the second odd coincidence.
He name’s Mikayla; funny not only because my name’s Kayla, but because her nickname is “Miki.” She loves all things Disney and was even carrying a Minnie Mouse purse that evening.
Y'all who know me know that I worked at Disney for a few months prior to this trip. I was even carry a stuffed version of my boss, Mickey, in my purse. (He tagged along so I could take photos of him for my mom’s kindergarten class.)
Miki asked where I was off to next that night, and I gave her my honest answer.
“I don’t know. Anywhere.”
“Well, follow me then! I’ll point out some places where I used to hang out.”
And that’s how our night began.
“I was taking a bus recently and we drove through this alley and I yelled, ‘THAT’S MY BAR!’ Imagine me, a seventy-year-old woman, screaming that while on a bus! People probably thought I was crazy! Well, they’re not completely wrong. But really, that’s where I used to get drunk and salsa dance when I was around your age. The front looked almost exactly the same. The inside didn’t seem as fun as it used to be.
"So what part of San Francisco did you live in? Oh, near Haight-Ashbury? I used to love the Haight! Do you imagine it’s changed since the sixties? Oh…Well, that’s a shame.
"You know, Francis Coppola and I would hang out in every near and then. Before he was famous, of course.
[Coppola directed The Godfather series.]
"One day when I was visiting San Francisco, I called up Francis who was living in L.A. at the time. Turns out, he was in San Francisco that very night! So we met up.
"I remember… We were sitting on some corner on Nob Hill, drinking gin out of paper bags. He was pitching movie ideas to me, but didn’t think he’d ever make it big. So I yelled at him: 'FRANCIS, WHERE ARE YOUR TONGS?!’”
“His what?”
“Tongs, honey! You know, to put sugar cubes in your tea! He just needed that extra push! I bet him $10 that he’d create blockbusters, but I didn’t have any money with me. So drunk me asked people walking by if they’d give me a dollar so I could prove Francis wrong. And before I knew it, ten people gave me a dollar each.”
We ended up at a massive clothing store called Primark, which is essentially the Forever 21 of Europe. Miki commented, “This place sometimes has hidden gems on sale. But don’t tell anyone you shop here. They’ll look down on you.”
After mentioning that my next stop would be France, Miki insisted that I pick up some trendy clothes and accessories. “You know how the French can be.”
I tried on a striped sweater, but Miki reacted that it was too boring for me. Fortunately, the next one I tried on—with bold, geometric blocks of color—was approved.
In the swimsuit aisle: “These bikinis are only £4. And the color would be stunning on you. Don’t worry about trying them on. I can tell they’ll fit. I used to be a fit model for lingerie. I know these things.”
Sunglasses: “HAH! These look ridiculous on me! Maybe they’ll be okay on you, you’ve got a bigger head? OH MY GOSH. THEY ARE SO YOU. You have to get them!”
In the lingerie aisle, I picked up a pretty little bralette. Miki found matching bottoms…and a garter belt.
“Miki,” (already knowing she would tell me to get the whole set,) “I’m just getting the bralette. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy this trip.”
“Oh, but you must get these, too! Now you’ve still got the body for it! And you’re travelling Europe, dear. You have my email. I obviously don’t want pictures or details. Just let me know when I can say 'I told you so.’”
I ended up purchasing much more than I had expected, but at least every item had Miki’s approval.
We wandered around London’s Soho district, swapping travel stories like how David Bowie hit on her best friend when they were in Singapore and how Gabriel Iglesias bought me a shot of fireball in Stockholm.
Miki mentioned how she was engaged once when she was in her twenties.
“He was Italian and we were in love. But one day, he said 'I can drink wine everyday, but not champagne.’ I was simply too bubbly for him. Dodged one there, didn’t I?
"If I did end up getting married and having kids, I’d definitely have grandkids by now. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three!”
“Yeah, if I had a granddaughter, she’d probably be your age now. And probably traveling just like you.”
Our conversations meandered around London’s corners. Before I knew it, it was around 11pm, four hours after first meeting her.
She was sharing yet another crazy story with me. But mid sentence, she turned to her right.
“Oh, my bus is here! Well, I don’t know how we ended up spending this much time together, but tonight has been lovely!”
She hugged me, pecked me on the cheek, got on the double-decker bus, and was gone as instantly as the moment we clicked.
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Follow up: Yes, I emailed her. Yes, she responded. She was real and remembers me and had wished me the best for my adventures.
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