#and she was like !!!!! it’s SO good with a lime wedge!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ｖｅｒｙ ｂａｄ ｔｈｉｎｇｓ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!wooyoung x chubby!fem!stripper!reader, other members mentioned

♡ Genre: smut

♡ Summary: When your best friend ropes you into working a bachelor party with her on your day off you're positive you know exactly what to expect. A bunch of gross drunk guys trying to put their hands on you. Instead you stumble into the exact opposite situation, finding yourself drawn to one man in particular who has you doing something you never thought you would.

♡ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: woo offers you money for sex and you take it, tattooed woo, drinking, partying, this man really likes licking you, low-key body worship, teasing, pentrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, tit sucking, manhandling, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, a lil dom woo if you squint, a lil pain play, pet names (good girl, pretty, beautiful, cutie, baby), and that's about it babes.

♡ A/N: What can I say? I love Wooyoung. I love mafia boys. I love thicc strippers. Mix all that with a lengthy Megan thee Stallion playlist and this is where I ended up. As always, I hope my chubby hot girls out there enjoy this. Love yeeew ♡

This was supposed to be your night off. You should be bed rotting in your pajamas while you shovel snacks into your mouth and binge your favorite K-drama. Instead you’re half naked in the penthouse suite of some posh high rise straddling the lap of a pretty dark haired boy who just knocked back a shot of tequila and is seconds away from licking the salt from your cleavage.

You let out a giggle at how his tongue tickles as it drags along your skin. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your sparkly pink acrylics swirling in the silky strands as you tilt his head back to let him bite down on the lime wedged between your plush lips. He grins from ear to ear, arms looping around your waist to bring you closer. Your lips are dangerously close to touching. If his cock straining against his pants didn’t give away how badly he’d love for that to happen, that lust filled glimmer in his eyes would.

When he sucks the juice from the lime you pluck it from his mouth, delicately licking the last drop from his bottom lip. He lets out a groan too low for anyone else to hear over the music that fills the penthouse but you hear it. You feel it.

“So, what’s your name again, sugar?” you ask, tugging at his hair a little harder. His eyes nearly roll back at how satisfying the pain is. 

“Wooyoung, sugar. What’s yours?” he whispers, sliding his hands down to cup your ass. You’re wearing a thong, leaving almost nothing between the warmth of his palms and the smooth skin of your ass. He gives it a gentle squeeze and you let out an airy moan that falls on his tongue as sweet as candy. 

“Mmmm” you hum, grinding down on his clothed cock just enough to make it twitch, “Be a good boy tonight and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

Your best friend Anya flicks at one of the silver star charms decorating your hair as she walks by hand in hand with an equally pretty boy you’re sure you heard someone call “Yeosang” earlier.  

“She’s not being a tease is she?” she jokes.

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting her hand away, “I’m not a tease.” 

Wooyoung only shrugs, “She is a tease but that’s okay. I like it.” He squeezes your ass harder and a little squeak escapes you. 

“Hey! I said you had to be good” you scold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 

He releases his hold on you, fingertips petting the small of your back, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

“You swear?” you pout, enjoying how easily he’s gotten wrapped around your finger. 

Wooyoung raises a pinky and hooks it around yours, “Pinky swear.”

For a fleeting moment you catch yourself falling for his charms. It’s difficult not to when he’s this hot. In fact, every man in this room is drop dead gorgeous. When Anya first asked you to work this bachelor party with her you were dreading it. Bachelor parties are usually filled with drunk, messy men who can barely string a sentence together let alone be charming.

It’s always good money but you weren’t in the mood to be gawked at by a bunch of asshole frat boys or handsy businessmen so you had every intention of telling her no. You much preferred your bed to a second of that but after all the times she’s had your back you couldn’t bring yourself not to do her this favor so you threw on your cutest lingerie, strapped on your stilettos, and got your cute ass over here. 

Much to your surprise and relief this is nothing like other bachelor parties you’ve worked. Of course they wanna see you naked. They wanna touch you, watch you dance for them. That’s the same with every man. But this group is so generous, so sweet, so willing to tend to the two of you that you’ve almost forgotten that you were working.

“Could you be a sweetheart and grab me a drink?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, “My throat’s a little dry and someone drank my last shot of tequila.” That someone being him. 

Wooyoung laughs, lifting you off of him and placing you carefully at his side, “Of course. Anything for you. What do you want?”

As Wooyoung rises from the couch you swing your feet up and he catches you by the ankles, slowly massaging your legs. You shrug, nibbling at your lip while his hands slip closer to your pillowy thighs, “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you…” he nods, his fingers sinking into your thighs, “Okay. I can do that.” He leans forward, kissing the inside of your knees before he wanders off to get you a drink.

Lying back on the couch you catch an inverted view of Anya chatting up Yeosang and finding any excuse to feel his muscles through his shirt. After a bit another man slips in beside her. You’re able to eavesdrop close enough to hear her say his name. Jongho. You’re sure he’s the youngest of the group. He’s quiet, difficult to read, but such a cutie. 

Speaking of cuties, you wonder how the man of the night is doing. Hongjoong—that’s the one name you absolutely had to remember—he’s the one getting married in a few days and you must admit his fiance’s one lucky girl. He was kind when the two of you arrived, offering you drinks and making sure you settled in fine, but he’s acted so innocent all night.

You’re sure he still hasn’t moved from that spot in the corner where he’s been sitting nursing the same drink all night. Every few minutes he checks his phone. You’re sure it’s to text his fiance. Some girls might be offended by that but you can’t bring yourself to care. You find it quite sweet actually and you get paid either way.

“Aaah…” you gasp at the sensation of something cool kissing your skin. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look up to find Wooyoung standing over you balancing an ice cold glass of something on your belly. 

He giggles at the shock on your face, sliding it up your body to watch how your back arches in response. “For you, pretty girl.”

Carefully you take the glass, admiring the electric blue syrup swirling around inside of it. You raise it to your lips, sipping at the sweet liquid. Wooyoung kneels down beside you, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear as you drink. He studies your side profile in silent fascination, admiring all of the finer details of your face. It’s a cliche thought, he knows this, but he can’t help wondering how such a delicately beautiful creature ended up in a line of work like this. Then again, with a face like this and a body like that, why wouldn’t you make men pay to be in your presence?

“How’s it taste?” he asks, only barely breaking himself from his trance.

His voice is low and dripping with need. His breath skims your neck like a trail of kisses and you catch yourself wishing that it were. Your pulse races, the tingling between your thighs growing too intense to ignore. You turning a guy on at work? It happens everyday. A guy turning you on? That’s never happened before, not during a single night on the job, but there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?

“You tell me,” you say, offering him a sip. As you do so your hand trembles enough for some of the alcohol to spill over the brim and onto your fingers. 

Wooyoung locks eyes with you, deep pools of brown pulling you into his gaze. Setting the glass down on the floor, he takes you by the wrist, gently stroking it as he presses your fingers to his lips. His tongue darts out, twirling around each and every finger to lick them clean. You never could’ve predicted that something like this would get you wet but here you are. That tingling between your thighs? It’s unbearable now. You squeeze them together, bringing your attention to how wet he’s managed to get you. You hate it and love it all at once. 

“You taste delicious” he grins, kissing your inner wrist. 

It makes you shiver and you pull your hand back, fighting to get a hold on yourself, “I thought we were talking about the drink, not me.”

Wooyoung shrugs, running his fingers down your side, “I don’t know, were we?” 

You should stop him but lust has you locked in place, letting his hand venture below your waist without a word of protest on your part. He squeezes the plush of your thigh, tucking a thumb between them so that it hovers a mere inch away from the wet fabric clinging to your warmth. In this moment everyone else in the room fades away. Even the music seems as if it’s traveled miles to reach your ears. You can only focus on each other. The way your breath hitches the closer he gets to stroking your clit through the lace. The way his eyes seem to twinkle as he watches you grow more and more needy for him as the seconds pass. His thumb’s so close you can almost feel it. Something in you tells you to shift your body down on the couch a little bit, close the distance and give yourself that relief you want so badly. 

“You didn’t pay for that” you snap, shooing his hand away, “That’s not on the menu, babe.” 

Without missing a beat Wooyoung retrieves his phone from his back pocket, swiping on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. It’s a CashApp screen and the keyboard’s already up for you to type your name into the search bar.

“Can I request something off the menu then?”

You shoot upright on the couch, shocked by what you see on the screen. “You’re joking” you laugh, motioning to hand his phone back.

Wooyoung stops you before you can, his expression more serious than you’ve seen it all night. “I want you.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“Try me…”

You wait for him to give it up but he doesn’t waver, not in the slightest. You huff, finding your account and tapping in an amount triple your fee for dancing. “There. You happy?” 

Wooyoung happily takes his phone back, hitting a single button before presenting you with the screen. “As long as you are.”

“Holy shit” you gasp, eyes glued to the screen. He actually did it. He sent you the money. Truth be told if he kept up all the teasing you probably would’ve slept with him before the night was over anyway but the fact that he was willing to pay for it? That’s a twist you didn’t see coming. 

“You…you’re crazy” you giggle, cupping that wonderfully defined face of his, “Fucking insane.”

Wooyoung doesn’t seem offended by that in the least. In fact, he takes it as a compliment. “But you like it…” he grins as he stands back up, sweeping your drink up with one hand and extending the other to you, “Don’t you?” 

You stare at him defiantly, refusing to respond. Not that you need to. The answer’s written all over your face in that faint smile you couldn’t chase away if you tried. A smile that lingers there as he takes you by the hand, guiding you down the nearby hallway and into the master bedroom of the penthouse.

The rest of the penthouse is gorgeous, the sort of place you only see in design magazines, and the master bedroom’s no different. It’s dimly lit with soft white light emitting from a sleek Swedish lamp in the corner. The pristine white walls are adorned with intricate paintings, all originals. All of the furniture’s designer, most notably the king size bed positioned across the room opposite ceiling to floor windows that overlook the city. You’re up much too high for anyone to see you but it feels like you can see the whole world from here. 

Wooyoung quickly takes notice of how charmed you are by the view. “You can check it out if you want,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “I’m not in a rush.” He can’t hold back his amusement at how giddy you are rushing over to the window to take in the sights. You’re quite possibly the cutest thing ever. 

“Whose place is this anyway?” you ask, unable to peel yourself away from the twinkling lights of the city below. Usually you steer clear of personal questions—it’s better that way—but something about Wooyoung makes you comfortable enough to ask. 

Chugging the rest of your drink, he lays back on the bed, glaring up at the spiraling design on the ceiling. “You remember the tall one? Kinda goofy?”

You run down a mental list of the boys at the party and narrow it down to two. “Which one?”

Wooyoung nearly chokes laughing, “Which one? Oh my god.”

“What?” you pout, truly not meaning any harm, “There’s two of them.”

“Mingi, the one with the deep voice. This is his place. He moved in, I don’t know, a month ago. Nice isn’t it?”

“Do you all live like this?” There you go again, asking questions you know you shouldn’t.

Wooyoung turns to look at you, his reflection immediately capturing your attention. “For the most part, yeah.”

You spin around to face him, on the verge of melting under the heat of his gaze, “Are you a drug dealer or something, Woo?”

He lets that question linger in the air, gesturing for you to come to him. “Come here, beautiful. You’re too far away.”

You skip over to the bed, your body jiggling so deliciously that he’s tempted to send you back over to the window just to see you come back again. Hopping onto the bed, you throw one leg across his waist, straddling his lap. “Better?”

He cups your cheek, bringing you in so that you���re face to face, his lips skimming yours once more. “Better.” 

“You didn’t answer my question” you whisper, rocking your hips against a bulge that’s even harder for you than before. 

Wooyoung loops an arm around your waist, keeping you flush against him, “If I answer your question will you tell me your name?”

“Mmhmm” you whine at the friction between you.

The fabric of your panties is flimsy enough that you can feel the texture of his pants—the pressure of his cock straining against them. It makes your mind go fuzzy. Wooyoung knows this because you’re doing the same to him.

“I’m a very bad man who does very bad things but not that. Not anymore” he confesses, flipping you onto your back in one effortless motion.

Any attempt you could’ve made to respond is silenced when his lips finally crash into yours. You teased him for hours, taking every opportunity to almost kiss him knowing from the start how badly he wanted you. Now that he can finally have you—satisfy the hunger that’s been building inside all night—he’s ravenous, holding nothing back.

“Your turn” he whispers between your lips, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion, not once breaking the kiss. 

The room’s still spinning when you part your lips to answer his question. As a rule you always give a fake name—one of the pretty ones that you and Anya came up with to stop creeps from finding you out in the real world—but for some reason you can’t lie to Wooyoung. With him kissing you like he wants to devour your very soul, the only possible thing you can spill out is the truth.

Wooyoung kisses his way down your neck, inhaling the sugary scent of your perfume as he drags his tongue between your breasts. “Such a pretty name. I like it.”

“I…I like your name too” you stutter, fingers combing through his hair, “Wooyoung’s a pretty name.”

Catching the fabric of your top between his teeth, he tugs harshly, causing the knots holding it together to slip. Your lush breasts fall free from your top, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up at the feeling of your stiff buds brushing the fabric of his shirt. 

“Mmm, say it again” he groans, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple, “It sounds so fucking good when you say it.” 

Taking your bud between his teeth, he sucks harshly at it, treating you to a combination of pain and pleasure that’s nothing short of addictive. Wedging a knee between your legs, he pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to knot your panties in his fist. Your body jerks as he snatches them away, leaving your dripping pussy exposed. Slipping two fingers between your folds, he spreads you open, letting his middle finger slide back and forth across your clit. 

“Wooyoung…mmph…” you moan, arching into his touch, “Woo…aah”. 

Wooyoung dips his fingers down to your clenching hole, stretching you open enough to give you a taste of what your body’s begging for.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, drooling around your swollen nipple. 

“Yes, please” you beg, your breath hitching as his fingers, already slick with your arousal, push into you. 

His movements are slow at first. Two fingers sliding in and out of you, gently stroking your pulsing walls. Your walls are so velvety and warm that he could spend all night petting them. No pussy’s ever felt this good wound around his fingers. His cock aches at the thought of how heavenly it must be to be inside of you. But that’s not truly where his head is right now. He’s solely focused on sneaking a third finger into your pussy, quickening his pace to make sure you never stop making all these pretty noises.

Wooyoung’s fingers are like magic and he’s insanely attentive, effortlessly picking up on your sweet spots and hitting them every single time. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, pushing you so close to your high that your lips are quivering. Wooyoung may be a very bad man who does very bad things but he’s so so good to you.

You tug at his hair, wanting another kiss but unable to form the words to ask for one. Guessing what you want—he wants it too—he leans up and pulls you into another kiss. Your lips collide right on the edge of your orgasm, his tongue dancing with yours as the euphoria hits and you clench around his fingers. 

“Good girl” he praises, “Are you always this gorgeous when you cum or is this just for me?”

His admiration only heightens the intensity of your orgasm. That coupled with the fact that he hasn’t let up on you has you ready to fall apart right here and now. After a couple seconds you figured he’d slow down, give you some time to recover, but no, he just keeps going.

“One more for me” he whispers, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit. 

“Woo, I can’t. Too much” you whine, grabbing onto his shirt hard enough to tear it.

He doesn’t care if you do. He meant it when he said you’re gorgeous when you cum. Your faces are perfection and your body’s glowing. When you look like this you could tear up everything he owns and he’d let you get away with it. 

“You can do it, baby. Just look at you. You’re already so close again, aren’t you?” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

A split second. That’s all you get to come down, if you can call it that, before the pressure’s building again and you’re coming so hard it has your ears ringing. This time he shows you mercy, gradually slowing his motions, showering you in the sweetest kisses while you come down. Climbing off of you, he stands at the foot of the bed, licking his drenched fingers.

“I was right. You are delicious.” 

You roll your eyes, trying hard not to give away how sickeningly hot you find him. “Are you always like this?”

There it is again. That mischievous grin that he’s been flashing you all night. The one you can blame for getting you into this situation to begin with. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed chest you just can’t wait to dig your nails into.

“Like what?” he asks, undoing his belt. 

“Like a menace” is what you want to say but you can’t. Wooyoung’s pants are at his ankles now and he has the nerve to stand there like he doesn’t know how glorious his cock is. You don’t need a fully lit room to see how flawless, how beautifully veined, how totally made for you it is. 

“Like what, cutie?” he repeats, grabbing your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed. Tucking his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs back, spreading them open to push the head of his cock up against your twitching pussy. 

You moan at the satisfying warmth of his arousal coating your slit, hips pressing down to stretch yourself with the tip.

“I don’t even know anymore. I’m just so…so…”

“So pretty…” he grunts, driving his length into you so deep that you feel it in your chest. Every word he says is accompanied by a thrust that rocks you to your core, little dots of color decorating your vision. “So beautiful. So fucking sexy when you take my cock.”

Your pussy’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s enough to make his head spin and his knees weak. His cock’s never indulged in something this decadent. It’s so good—maybe too good. When you first walked through the door tonight Wooyoung knew it would be. Something about you said you were sitting on a pussy like gold and he wasn’t wrong. Not even a little bit.

You can’t even pretend that you don’t feel the same way. You’re bouncing back against his cock, clamping down on him like you’ll die if he pulls out. Every stroke of his cock floods your senses with pleasure, worsening the moisture leaking from your needy hole onto the expensive sheets. It’s so overstimulating. The length. The thickness. How he throbs in response to every flutter of your walls, filling you up exactly how you need to be filled.

Shifting angles, he mercilessly drills into your sweet spot, making you lose control of your already weakened limbs. You can’t raise your hips. You can’t bounce back on him. You can’t do anything at all besides lay there and take every inch of cock that he feeds you. It’s only a matter of time before your breath’s hitching again, that airy feeling overtaking your body. 

“Look at me” he commands when your head falls back, glossy eyes rolling to the back of your head. Letting one of your legs drop, he slaps a hand down on the softness of your belly and grips it hard enough to sting. 

“Mmph, Woo…” you moan, teary eyes finding his gaze as your nails rake across the sheets. There’s a darkness in his expression that intimidates you as much as it turns you on.

A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your broken voice moaning his name. “You look at me when you cum or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you, baby?” 

You shake your head, pouting cutely. You make him weaker than you can imagine but that’s not enough for him. He knows you can do better than that. 

Slowing down to an agonizingly slow pace, he drags his fingers down your belly to play with your clit. “I don’t believe you. I think you want me to stop.”

“No, don’t stop” you whine, rocking up and down his length, “I won’t look away. I promise. Fuck me, Youngie, please.”

Wooyoung folds for you in an instant, fucking into you hard enough that the headboard’s rocking. You reach out for his hand and he gives it to you, fingers interlacing with yours as your high takes you under.

This is the third time he’s seen you cum—the third time he’s watched you moan and arch and cry out for him—and each time’s more perfect than the last. Good thing this isn’t the last. In fact, it’s far from it. You’re his for the night and by the time he’s done with you he’ll have every face you make, every desperate little moan, committed to memory. 

[athenasdragon]

To the airline stewardess who told me to try putting a lime wedge in cranberry juice: you changed my life for the better and I will never forget you

[nadvs]

basketballplayer!rafe doing body shots off of cheerleader!reader and everybody is around them hyping them up and recording. after rafe carries her to a room in the house to fuck cause he’s hornyyyy

aaaaa YES i love their college days 🤭

based on this fic! 18+!

rafe is already buzzed when she arrives.

“your wife’s here!” his housemate shouts over the music. rafe grins when she walks into the crowded party with a couple of her friends.

it’s been just over a week since they became official and scrapped their ‘best friends’ title, and his teammates love that they can taunt him for being ‘married’ without him telling them shut up or it’s not like that.

she’s more uncovered than she is clothed in her shorts and tank-top. he’s seen her naked so many times and knowing what she looks like underneath those flimsy pieces of fabric makes his groin tighten already.

she drapes her arms over his firm shoulders to hug him in greeting and he pulls her by the waist and presses his lips against hers. boisterous jeers surround them.

“are they ever going to stop?” she mumbles into his ear as his friends holler, his cheek warm against hers.

“don’t think so.” she can hear the smile in his voice. she knows he has authority as captain and can get the guys to stop if he really wants them to. but maybe he likes the reminder that they’re really together now. “how are you, baby?”

“i had a shitty day,” she tells him.

“how come?” rafe pulls back, gazing at her through softer eyes.

“my classes dragged,” she tells him. “practice was annoying. and now i gotta deal with you.”

“shut up,” he mutters with a laugh. “i’m the best part of your day.”

“is that what you tell yourself?”

“do you need to get out of my house?”

“sure,” she says, pretending to step back. his fingers wrap around her wrist as he tugs her towards him. she laughs, pressed up against him again.

“we’re doing shots,” a voice behind her says, startling her. rafe laughs when she jumps in his arms.

“good,” she says. “i obviously need a drink.”

rafe stands behind her, hands on her hips, as she throws back a couple of vodka shots, looking at him with an adorable wince as the liquor burns down her throat.

“cameron!” they hear. rafe’s housemate liam captures their attention, along with a few other partygoers. “you ever hear that saying about how your girlfriend is the best shot glass?”

laughs scatter across the crowd.

“are we about to get peer pressured into doing a body shot?” she asks with a smile and shake of her head, looking up at her boyfriend.

“i mean, if we have to…” he says. his face is flushed pink and his lids are low. he’s maybe one shot away from being plastered. and she’s starting to feel the buzz from her shots, too. maybe that’s why lying on the dining room table in front of everyone doesn’t sound so crazy.

she settles on the hard surface on her back, her palms over her eyes as she laughs, unable to believe that they’re really doing this.

she lays her arms at her sides and can see a few phones pointed at her as rafe stands by the edge of the table, clumsily getting a few things ready.

“i’m doing tequila,” rafe slurs over the music. she laughs.

“is that a good idea?” she half-shouts.

he holds out a lime wedge over her and she rolls her eyes before opening her mouth just wide enough to let him prop it between her teeth.

rafe’s fingers are hot as he pulls up the hem of her top, exposing her stomach and the bottom of her bra. he loves that the girl everyone is looking at right now is his.

he leans over her, his dimples deep in his cheeks as he smirks, and bends down to run his tongue up the side of her neck.

everyone watching hoots loudly and she feels her cheeks burn. they’ve been affectionate in front of people before, but never sexual like this.

he leaves a warm line of his spit on her, allowing the salt he shakes over her skin to stick.

rafe lifts the tequila bottle, hand a bit shaky as he concentrates on pouring it in her belly button. it’s hilarious, considering how precise and steady he is on the court, to see him so clumsy.

“wait, wait,” he says, a lazy smile on his face, “i need to focus.”

“then focus,” she laughs.

the tequila is cool as it forms a puddle on her navel. she shakes as she laughs, making some of it spill over on her side.

“stay still,” rafe drawls, still smiling, his hands firm on her hips.

“hurry up,” she says, laughing. she’s glad that even their relationship has changed, it hasn’t much, still bickering even when they’re drunk.

he quickly shifts to lick the salt on her neck, then he moves to press his open mouth against her stomach, sucking the liquor off of her body.

rafe just barely grimaces as he swallows the sharp tequila. he shifts back up to bite the lime in her mouth, but impatiently spits it out on the table and takes the opportunity to kiss her.

“that’s not part of it!” she hears one of his friends shout. rafe smiles against her lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth, and she laughs, cradling his jaw with both her hands, tasting the bitter alcohol.

“we need to go upstairs,” rafe mumbles when he pulls away, inches away from her. she knows what he sounds like when he’s turned on. she sees his hand over his groin, hiding that he’s hard.

“should i flash everyone to distract them?” she jokes.

“don’t fuck around,” he laughs. “come on.”

he yanks her off the table by her hips. if he goes another minute without being inside her, he might just go insane.

“alright, bye, i guess?” liam calls loudly as they rush up the stairs together.

rafe’s pushes her onto his bed, kissing her fast and rough. they strip off each other’s clothes, breathing heavily, hot skin quickly making contact.

“get on your knees,” he orders. “ass up.”

she obeys, fingers bunching in his sheets as she feels his big hands run down her bare back. his hand comes down hard on her ass, making her gasp in pleasure.

when she feels the head of his cock up against her, she arches her back, hungry for him.

he takes in the sight, her ass in the air for him, her middle gleaming with wetness. he rubs the tip against her entrance just to taunt her before finally pushing forward.

“fuck,” he whispers as he starts to sink into her. she arches her back even more so he can quickly plunge deeper into her.

rafe doesn’t take it slow. he pulls back and then forward immediately, finding his pace and slamming into her with his hands on her hips.

she exhales with every thrust, moaning over the sound of the bass-heavy music downstairs.

“i bet every guy down there wishes they could fuck you,” he says hoarsely. “but who’s fucking you, huh? tell me.”

“you are,” she groans.

“lying on that table like that,” rafe mutters. “i wanted to fuck you right there.”

she moans into the mattress as he plunges into her even harder and faster. when his hand drags down her stomach and over her clit, rubbing in tight circles, she starts to see stars.

he feels her clenching around him, her walls fluttering and her body shaking. she comes with a loud moan, loving that she doesn’t have to worry about anyone hearing like she usually does when they fuck in his room.

he grips the back of her neck to keep her steady so he can fuck her as hard as he wants to, his groans low with every rough thrust.

her thighs start to ache as he pounds in her and when his hips start to stutter against her, she knows he’s close. he squeezes the back of her neck as he reaches his peak, coming inside her in hard jerks.

rafe needs a moment before he can get up to get her a towel. she’s lying on her back when he comes into the room again, wiping the mess off of her, albeit clumsily from how drunk he is.

they laugh at nothing together, and he settles beside her, loving that her instinct is to wrap her arms around him again. his cheek is on her heaving chest as she cuddles him.

it’s almost unbelievable to her how they can go from fucking so roughly to hugging so fast. she starts to stroke his hair, still catching her breath. she doesn’t know if she even has the strength to go back downstairs.

she lets her eyelids flutter shut, still riding her high, hugging her boyfriend with no intention of letting go any time soon.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "sam and colby making a sex tape with reader?!?!"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, double penetration, fingering, oral (all rec), hair pulling, rough actions, dirty talk, pet names, creampies, filth

Word count: 3.9k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"What are you doing lately, miss y/n?" Michelle asks as she crosses her leg over her other, leaning back to sip her drink.

You glance up at Sam and Colby, who are smiling and laughing while talking with their friends.

You look back to your friend, "Oh you know, just the usual adventuring and YouTubing."

She smiles and nods, "Yeah I just seen you surpassed three million." She holds her glass out and you clink yours with hers. She takes a sip, pointing to you, "I'm proud of you."

You smile, "Thank you. It hasn't been easy, but we're getting somewhere."

"And another round of tequila shots for this table." The waitress says setting down the tray and everyone cheers, already slightly drunk.

"Thank you!" You say taking your shot glass, "What are we cheersing to?"

"To y/n. For making to three million." Colby winks at you and you can feel the heat in your cheeks rising and it doesn't help when Sam looks at you with his smirk, "To y/n."

"No.. no.. there's no-"

"To y/n." They all cut you off, clinking their small glasses before taking them. A few people let out a groan and you laugh as you suck on your lime wedge.

"Oh my god. I love this song." Michelle gets up, "Come dance with me!" You look down at your empty glass, "Let me get a refill and I'll meet you out there."

She nods and runs over with a few of the other girls, dancing and singing as they do.

You look up and Sam and Colby are staring at you, "Yes?"

They shake their heads and Colby scoots down in the booth to sit in front of you, "Just admiring how good our girl looks." He winks and nods down, "I'll get you a drink."

You smile, "Thank you."

Sam moves down, "He's right. You look fantastic, babe."

"Sam." You whisper leaning in, "Careful."

He rolls his eyes, "Please. They're all drunk, they don't care." You smirk, glancing over at the rest of the group laughing and taking more shots, "You're right."

You, Sam and Colby all talked and agreed to keep your relationship as secret as possible, mainly because you weren't sure how everyone would react to you guys being a thruple.

You didn't think your friends would care, they'd be asking questions for sure, but Sam and Colby's fan base, along with yours, you just weren't sure yet.

You didn't really care what they thought, normal was so fucking overrated anyway. It was more or less you didn't want Sam and Colby to lose viewers for it, that was important to them.

You look over and lean over slightly as Colby extends his arm out, drink in hand, "Here you go, my love."

You smile, "Thank you." You take a sip, "Mm. This is delicious."

He sits down next to Sam, "Thought you'd like it." He slides Sam drink over to him and sighs, "Thought you were going to dance?"

You glance over at Michelle and the others and sigh, "Yeah, I probably should." You stand up, resting your hands flat on the table, "I know I'm reaching my limit soon."

"How come?" Colby smirks leaning in. You look over at him, leaning in closer to both him and Colby, "Because I'm starting to wonder why we aren't having sex yet."

You bite your lip, slowly pushing yourself up off the table.

"Yeah I'm starting to wonder that myself." Sam brings his glass to his lips and Colby nods, "Mhm." You smirk, laughing as you grab your drink, "Later."

You walk over, dancing as you walk up to your friends. Soon enough, you find yourself being drug up to the bar, your friends egging you to take more shots, and you do.

You slam the fifth one down, waving your hands as you laugh, "No, no. No more." You shake your head, "I'm good."

"Oh come on, y/n! It's a special night." Michelle shakes your arm slightly and you smirk, sighing, "Fine. One." You hold up one finger, "I mean one more."

"Yes! Okay!" She waves to the bartender and he walks over, "I need.." she looks around to make sure everyone is still there, "Five more tequila shots please."

He nods and walks away to get them and Michelle turns to you, "So how does it feel?"

You look up at her from your bar stool, "How does what feel?"

"You know.. getting to hang out with Sam and Colby all the time?" She sips her drink and raises her eyebrows, "You know lots of girls would kill to be in your position."

You laugh slightly, "I mean, I've known them for a while." You shrug, "It's always something new."

"Now.." she laughs slightly and sighs, "I have to ask.."

You close your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip because you know where this is going.

"Are you.. you know.." she leans in, glancing back at them before looking back at you, "Seeing either one of them?"

"Oh my god, Michelle." You roll your eyes and the bartender sets the glasses down, "Here you go."

"Thank you." You grab yours, taking it before sucking on the lime wedge.

"You didn't answer me." She nudges you, "Come on. I'm your best friend."

"And you're also very.. very drunk. So on that note." You finish the drink in your tall glass and set it down, "I'm heading home."

You go to stand up and she grabs you, "We're not done talking about this, missy."

You laugh and nod your head, "okay."

You walk over to the booth Sam and Colby are at, leaning down between them, "Take me home."

They both turn to look at you and they both nod, "Gladly."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The ride home was kinda quiet, all but Sam and Colby talking to the Uber driver.

"Yeah, I've followed you guys since the beginning. I recently just subscribed to y/n. I think her content is pretty good too."

"I basically do the same stuff they do, just without the man power." You giggle and they all laugh. Kellin, the driver, shakes his head, "I think that's pretty badass."

Colby's hand brushes against your leg at the subtle flirting that's happening on Kellin's end and you lay your hand on his, "Yeah, when I'm not doing my own stuff, I'm with these two on their channel."

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, mumbling under his breath, "Can't get enough of us."

"What was that?" Kellin asks leaning back more and Colby laughs, "This is our stop."

"Oh, alright. Pleasure to meet you guys." He looks back, "Congrats on three mill, y/n." He smiles and you nod, "Thank you for driving us home."

"Anytime." He winks and you see Colby clench his jaw before he gets out, helping you out behind him. He shuts the door with a slam and Sam walks around the back to meet you guys before heading up to the house.

"That guy was so fucking thirsty for your attention, babe." Colby laughs and sighs, "times like that are when I wish I could just.." he grabs your throat, holding you still so he can crash his lips onto yours.

You grip his biceps, kissing him back until Sam cuts it short, "Can we maybe move this party inside?"

You laugh against Colby's lips, "Of course, honey." You squeeze him arm as you walk by him, setting your bag down on the couch.

You turn around, and watch as Colby shrugs his jacket off. Sam pulls his hoodie up over his head. They both lay them over the back of the couch as you sit down on it, "So."

"So." They both say as they move in to kiss each side of your neck. You tilt your head back and shrug your cropped jacket that's draped over your shoulders, off.

"I had an idea." You whimper as you drag your hands up their chests, "A good idea actually."

"What's your good idea, baby?" Colby slides his hands down and across your waist, "we'd love to know."

Sam rests his forehead against your temple and you smirk, "Go get the camera." Sam lifts his head and looks at Colby, "Fuck yeah."

Sam races upstairs into the office to grab it. Colby moves to stand between your knees, holding onto your waist, "dirty girl."

"Just want something to look back on when you guys are away." You bite your lip as you look up at him and he groans lowly, "Well give you something."

Sam comes back down, "Alright. Where do you wanna start?" You slide down off the back of the couch, "follow me." You walk over to the steps and you hear the camera click on.

You smirk as you turn around, looking down at the camera. Sam moves it up and down, showing you off, "Can't wait to get you out of that tiny little skirt."

"Been teasing us all fucking night." Colby adds as he walks up, pulling you with him up the steps. Sam follows behind, and you make your way to the bedroom.

You pull Colby to you, pushing him back onto the bed so you can straddle him. You reach out for Sam, grabbing his hand once he lays it in yours and pull him to you as well.

He hands the camera to Colby and Colby films you on top of him. Your skirt riding up to reveal those slutty little panties sitting between your legs that are soaked.

Moving over to capture the slow, heated make out that has you pulling at Sam's shirt. He leans back, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it before moving back in for more.

"Fuck. That's so hot." Colby groans, raising his hips slightly. You moan against Sam's lips as you grind against Colby's cock in his jeans.

"That feel good?" Colby asks and you nod as you pull away from Sam, "Yes."

"You know what would feel better, baby?" Sam whispers as he slides his hand down your body, pulling your skirt up more, "If you sat on his cock for him."

Colby hands the camera to Sam and you move off of him onto your knees slowly taking what little clothes you had on, off while Sam recorded you, hyping you up as Colby stood next to him.

"Fuck, yeah baby. Take it off for us." Sam whispers, "You're so fucking sexy."

You giggle as you toss the black bandeau top at them and Sam zooms in your jiggling boobs, "You have such nice tits, babe."

You smile, covering your face as you laugh slightly, "Sam."

"What?" He laughs, "I'm just being honest, now move those arms, we wanna see."

You move your arms, hooking your thumbs into the band of your skirt but Colby stops you, "Mm. Leave that on. Just take off your panties."

You nod, confused, but you reach up under, hooking your fingers into the band of your underwear before pulling them down to above your knees.

You sit back watch as Colby takes the camera. Sam moves onto the bed, sliding his up your legs and grabbing a hold of your panties to pull them down.

He tosses them aside and grabs your ankles, spreading your legs apart. You move your skirt up to around your hips before you lean back, resting on your elbows.

"Look at the way he's looking at you, baby." Colby moves up by your head, "He wants to devour you."

You look from Colby to Sam and bite your lip, staring into Sam's eyes, "please..baby."

A smirk grows onto Sam's face and he nods towards Colby, "Give him something to." He winks and slides his hands up the outside of your thighs to your hips, gripping them as he shifts around to lay on his stomach.

You work at undoing Colby's jeans, pushing them down so you can free his cock from his boxers. Colby groans as your hand wraps around him, pumping slowly.

"Fuck.." he breathes out and holds the camera on the scene, "Use your mouth baby. I love it when you use that pretty little mouth."

Sam presses little kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your pussy. He licks a strip up to your clit, closing his lips around it.

You moan out as you lean in to take the head of Colby's cock into your mouth. Colby holds the camera as steady as he possibly can on you sucking his cock, moving it to Sam eating your pussy every so often.

You work your way down, moaning around Colby as Sam's tongue plunges deep into you.

"F-fuck, baby. Yeah, shit. That's it." Colby groans, laying a hand on the back of your head, "Just.. like that just like that."

You pull off, tilting your head back as you clench around Sam's tongue, "Fuck, fuck fuck." You stroke Colby's cock, moaning out as you cum on Sam's face.

"Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl." Colby groans and points to the camera to Sam as he sits up, "How's she taste, Sam?" 

Sam smirks and nods, "scrumptious as always." He takes the camera from Colby and Colby pulls you up, "Come here, baby girl."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him as he pulls you closer by pressing his hands to your back. He bends you back, laying you down as he hovers his body over yours, lips still connected with yours.

"Same thing but with Sam, yeah?" He says lifting his head up. You nod, panting as he kisses down your body.

Your eyes roll back as Colby sucks on your clit, nipping gently. Sam moves up next to you, recording Colby as he throws your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell us how it feels, baby." Sam brushes his hand over your boob, pinching and twisting your nipple, "does it feel good?"

"So.. so fucking good." You open your eyes, moaning out as you lean up to undo Sam's jeans, doing the same thing you did to Colby.

You tilt your head back, gasping as you feel Colby slip two fingers into you, "Shit." You clench around them as you pull Sam's boxers down his thighs, "Fuck, fuck, Colby."

You wrap your hand around Sam's cock and he pushes his hips forward. You part your lips, wrapping them around the head of his cock.

He groans lowly, "F-fuck, baby." He lays a hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he slowly moves your head up and down.

Your eyes roll shut as the overwhelming pleasure feeling of having a back to back orgasm takes over.

"You're so fucking good at this." Sam lets go of your hair and you bob your head, moaning around him as you cum around Colby's fingers.

"Fuck, fuck." Sam groans and moves his hips back, pulling his cock from your mouth, "You only get better at that."

Sam moves the camera down to film Colby finger fuck you through your high. You're whimpering, moaning, and arching your back off the bed while your heels dig into his back.

Your back meets the mattress as Colby pulls his fingers out and leans up. He brings his fingers to your lips and Sam records your wrapping your lips around them. You swirl your tongue, moaning as you suck yourself from his fingers.

"So fucking pretty." Sam brushes his fingers over your jaw and hands the camera to Colby when he takes his fingers from your mouth.

Sam stands up to discard his clothes fully, then lays his body on yours. You feel his cock rub against you, “Sam.”

“What baby?” Sam kisses your jaw line down your neck as you whimper, “Please.”

Sam looks over at Colby, smirking at the camera as he leans up to his knees, “Please what baby?”

“I want you..” you move your hips, staring up at him, “I need you.”

“She needs you, Sam.” Colby says moving the camera up and down your body slowly, “Give her some.”

Sam bites his lip as he slowly pushes his cock into you. Colby records your face as it scrunches up with pleasure and you moan, “Yes, yes.”

“That what you wanted, babe? Hmm?” Colby runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you wrap your lips around it, moaning quietly as Sam starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.

Colby pulls his thumb out and you moan, “y-yes.”

Sam grips the shirt that’s around your waist, groaning as he tilts his head back, “Shit.”

Colby moves the camera down, focusing on Sam’s cock going in and out of you, “So fucking hot.” Colby moves down to plant his lips on yours, swallowing every moan that comes from your lips.

Sam slides a hand up, gripping one of your boobs as he slows his thrusts down, “I need to stop or my night will be cut short.” He chuckles as he pulls his cock from you and you whimper at the loss.

Sam takes the camera from Colby and Colby moves to lay next to you, “C’mere, baby girl.” He guides you to straddle him and you sink down onto his cock with a gasp, nails leaving crescent marks on his abdomen.

Sam sets the camera on the stand next to the bed, angled perfect to capture all three of you. He moves up next to you, kiss your neck as you move up and down on Colby’s cock, “You look so hot riding his cock.”

“So fucking good at this.” Colby moans as his fingers dig into your thighs, “Such a beautiful fucking sight.”

Sam grabs your skirt, assisting with lifting you up and down, “You’re such a little slut for us.” He nips your ear, groaning as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking him as you lay your head back on his shoulder, “you know exactly how to treat us.”

You clench around Colby’s cock and Colby shakes his head, “Hold it baby. You’re gunna cum with us when we’re ready.”

You nod once, squeezing your eyes shut as Sam sucks on your neck, pinching your nipple with his fingers, “You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

“Sam.. give me the camera..” Colby extends an arm out towards it and Sam moves to grab it, handing it to him before moving to his place behind you.

Colby records you bouncing on his cock while Sam slides a hand down to rub your clit, “I know we make it hard, but don’t cum yet.”

“Fucking beautiful.” Colby moans and zooms in on his cock going in and out of your pussy, “Sh-shit.” Colby sits up slightly, “How do you wanna finish.”

He reaches up and tilts your chin down so you can look at him, “How do you wanna finish, baby?” He repeats and you smile slightly, “I want you both.”

Colby’s eyes move to Sam’s and Sam smirks, “You heard her.” Colby nods, “I sure did.”

Sam moves to sit with his back against the headboard, “you can either set the camera down somewhere or whatever..”

Colby nods, moving to set it up somewhere while Sam directs you on how to sit, basically reverse cowgirl, but Sam move down a little bit and you’re laying with your back on his chest.

You bring your legs up and Colby moves in front of you, standing over you looking over your body, “Hold on.” He reaches over, grabbing the camera.

Sam reaches down grabbing his cock and slaps it against your ass a few times, “Colbs, some spit please.”

Colby chuckles and nods before leaning forward to spit. You bite your lip as you feel it run down over your ass and Sam rubs his cock in it.

Colby records the process of Sam slowly pushing into you, moving up to your face as you pant, moaning out with a little bit of pain and pleasure combined.

“You okay, baby?” Sam asks in whisper as he moves to hold your legs up by the back of your knees.

You nod, “y-yes. Yes.”

“Taking him so good baby.” Colby presses his thumb to your clit, gently rubbing circles as Sam slowly pulls his cock out and thrusts back in.

Your moans fill the room, and they’re loud.

“That’s it baby, let em out.” Colby groans as he watches the scene in front of him, “Fuck, let me in there.” Sam slows his thrusts down, leaving you whimpering as Colby slowly slips his cock into your pussy, “Fucking hell.”

He angles the camera down by his side, capturing the moment.

You lay your hands on Sam’s, digging your nails into the top of his hands, “Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Taking us so fucking well baby.” Sam kisses your head, “Almost done, okay?”

You nod and arch your back slightly, becoming a complete mess as they start to thrust into you.

You can fight it anymore. You clench around both of them, screaming out as you cum. Colby pushes your thighs back a little more with his one hand, moaning out as you cum around him.

“Shit.” He groans lowly, “I-I’m gonna fucking cum.” He digs his fingers into your thigh and tries to hold the camera steady as he fills you.

Sam is quick to follow.

You moan out as you feel them both twitching inside of you, whimpering as you relax from your own high,

Colby leans up, breathing heavy as he watches you, “Y/n, baby. You alright?”

You slowly lift your head, giving him a smile, “Never better.”

Colby bites his lip, nodding as he moves the camera to where you guys are still commenced, “Ready?” You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

He nods and slowly pulls out. He groans lowly as he watches his cum spill out and roll down towards Sam cock that’s still inside of you, “Fuck. Sam you’ll have to watch this.”

“Oh trust me. I want to.” Sam slowly lifts you as he pulls out himself, and Colby sucks in air as you push out Sam’s cum for him, “Fuck, baby.”

You giggle quietly, sighing as you roll off of Sam. He leans over, “I’ll go get the shower started, hang tight.” He places a kiss to your lips and you nod, “Okay.”

Colby sets the camera down and lays next to you, “You okay?” He brushes hair from your face and you lay a hand on his cheek, “I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

He chuckles and nods, “Yeah, that’s why I’m not going to let us watch it for a few days. Because I’m sure when we do..” he raises his brows and you laugh, “Oh I know.”

Sam comes back in, laying behind you, “You okay?” You nod, turning your head towards him, “Yes, baby.” He kisses your cheek, “Okay. Shower is ready.”

You slowly sit up and swing your legs off the bed, “Better hope that doesn’t get mixed in with your usual footage.” You laugh and look at them.

Colby’s eyes go wide, “Oh god, we’d have to fucking tweet something along the lines of um, hey guys, so that wasn’t your normal footage.. sorry for the.. the.. I don’t even know what we’d say.. I’d delete my accounts.. go rogue.” He laughs, “Colby Brock who?”

You laugh and look at Sam, “not if we uploaded it to the right website.” You wink and get up to walk to the bathroom.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I feel like this was short, but also really good so that makes up for it. I hope you enjoyed!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[incendiobrock]

Drunk Confessions {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: Chris, Nick, and fem!reader attend the Tara Yummy party and some drunken confessions are made later on in the night.

A/N: I kinda hate how I wrote this but my account is seriously lacking Chris content so hopefully you will enjoy anyways lmao, if it's not too shitty lmk if you might want a part 2

Warnings: drinking, mentions of throwing up, super sweet, fluffy chris 🥹

“Alright, you guys have fun!” Matt said as he dropped you Nick, and Chris off at the front of the building. You could hear the music blasting through the walls as people celebrated Tara. Matt wasn’t really feeling up to going to a party which worked perfectly in your favor knowing you had a reliable DD to pick you up later in the night. Chris and Nick wouldn’t drink either but you would never trust them to safely operate a vehicle so Matt was the best choice for the job.

Nick walked ahead of you as Chris stayed by your side, his right hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you both inside. You all had smiles etched onto your face as you entered the upbeat atmosphere filled with some of your influencer friends. Tara immediately saw you guys and pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much for coming!” She shouted over the music.

“We wouldn’t miss it!” You replied, congratulating her on hitting a million subscribers. Your eyes scanned the room noticing the bar, officially deciding that would be your next stop. Chris’s hand never left your lower back as he and Nick continued to talk to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” You said into Chris’s ear, departing the group.

The bar was filled with people trying to order different drinks. A special menu placed in the center with some specific drinks for Tara. You ordered a vodka cran and even got roped into taking a shot with some others that were at the bar. Without your knowledge, Chris kept a close eye on you from across the room. He loved seeing you have fun, especially knowing that you had been stressed with other things the past few weeks.

You needed to let loose and have a little fun, he thought. The liquor burned going down your throat as you took your shot, using a lime wedge as your chaser. Before you knew it, you were a few drinks in, and maybe a couple shots.

You felt like you were floating through the crowd as you made your way back to your friends. You wrapped an arms around both Chris and Nick’s shoulders, standing in between the two. “Heyyyy,” You slurred slightly.

“Where have you been?” Nick chuckled, trying to keep you supported as you swayed slightly into his side. “Yeah, you’ve been all over the place tonight. I saw you over at the bar and then over by the-“ Chris began before you cut him off.

“I wanna dance! Can we please danceee?” You begged, dragging out the end of your sentence. “You guys got this,” Nick said, passing you off to Chris. “Good luck kid.”

You looked up at Chris with big puppy dog eyes, silently restating your request to dance. “Of course, let’s go dance.” He said, placing his hand out for you to take hold of. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled you to the crowd of other people dancing. One of your favorite hype songs came on and you felt like you were on top of the world. You were facing Chris with a hand placed on each of his shoulders while his held your waist. You were both jumping around and singing the lyrics to one another. You couldn’t help but admire him as the flashing lights illuminated his face. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins but you wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a kiss.

After dancing for a few more songs Chris leaned down to your ear and yelling over the music, “You ready to go? Matt is here to pick us up!” A soft smile played on your face as you nodded, head still spinning from the drinks.

Chris had to practically lift you into your seat as your body stumbled to step up into the vehicle. “Okay- Okay sit still let me buckle you in.” Chris laughed, watching as you immediately started to fill Matt in on the night. The seatbelt buckle latched into place and Chris went to shut your door and hop into the passenger seat. “Chris-“ Your voice comes out in a whine, he glances behind his shoulder looking at you worried. “Are you gonna be sick?”

You shook your head ‘no’, staring into his eyes as he searched your face trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you sit with me?” Nick agrees and switches seats with his brother, taking over the passenger seat. Chris’s fingers found your hair as he playfully brushed his fingers through it. The drive home was about twenty minutes and you didn’t know if you would make it. Nausea settled in your stomach as the alcohol mixed with the moving car. You ended up rolling down the window to get some fresh, cool air.

As soon as Matt pulled into the garage you were lunging out your door and inside the house. You ran to Chris’s bathroom, not having enough time to shut the door before you were over the toilet bowl. This wasn’t how you were planning on ending the night. Embarrassment started to settle in when you heard footsteps entering the bathroom. “Go awayyy,” you couldn’t lift your head up but you knew who stood in the doorway. The presence was by your side that very next second, “I’m not leaving.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be gentle with you knowing you weren’t feeling well.

“Chris please, this is so embarrassing. I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know you are kid. I brought you some water, do you need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower.” You grumble.

Chris stood up and turned on the hot water for you, letting it heat up before you got in. Delicately, he helped you get out of the outfit you had on as you faced away from him, not wanting to expose yourself. His hand on your bare back as he helped get you into the shower.

Chris stayed right outside the shower, scrolling on his phone but making sure he was readily available if you needed anything. After the shower, you were being dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

Your body collided with his mattress as you pulled the covers over your body. Chris got in bed beside you, laying flat on his back and keeping a healthy distance between you two. “Can we please cuddle?” You whisper. Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso.

“Thank you, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it kid. It’s no problem.”

Kid. That stupid nickname fell out of his mouth again for the second time tonight. It definitely didn’t feel very nice to hear him say it. You might regret this tomorrow but you were still feeling brave right now.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up.” He asked, looking down at your face as it continued to rest on his chest.

“I love you.”

A chuckle escaped past his lips, “I love you too-“

“No Chris. Like, I love you… I have for so long.” You watched as he tried to process the new information, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I was scared to tell you because you’re like my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that but, it’s true. I love you so much.” You finished your little spiel.

“I feel the same way about you, but please let’s talk about this tomorrow. I want you to be able to remember this.” He was so gentle with you, he always was. You had such a special spot that he held in his heart for you. You were sad that he didn’t want to talk about this right now but you knew he was probably right, he normally was. You wanted to remember this conversation and you weren’t certain that you would remember anything when you woke up the next morning.

“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I will talk to you about this in the morning. I want to be able to kiss you when you’re in the right state of mind.” His lips pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, lulling you to sleep.

[sometimesanalice]

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun. 

[hyypnotix-writes]

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. “There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

[absurdthirst]

Fireworks {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: Dirty talk, premature ejaculation, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum eating, riding, breast play, mentions of IUD, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, family planning

Comments: Seeing Frankie Morales again at the cookout thrown by your sister and her husband, you discover that you the crush you have on the Delta Force operators isn't as one sided as you previous thought.

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸HAPPY 4th of JULY!!!!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Ohhhhhhh say can you seeeeeeeeeee!” Loudly and off-key, Ben Miller shouts/sings the national anthem for only the hundredth time because it’s the only day he can get away with it. Fourth of July, the nation’s birthday and it either invokes ad nauseam tales of valor or over exuberant patriotism. In Benny, and the other members of Delta Force’s A Squadron, it’s both. A day to get rip roaring drunk, party like they might not live to see the next day and generally raise hell. “Give it a rest, Benny!” Frankie shouts over the music that is blaring through the outdoor speakers that Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia had set up in his little backyard oasis. “You sound like a cow giving birth!” He adds, laughing and taking another sip of his beer when the youngest of the Miller brothers shoots him double fingers.

Santi chuckles, “Maria’s sister will be arriving soon so you better be on your best behavior.” He warns and Frankie sits up a little. Ever since Pope introduced Frankie to you, he’s always had a crush. It’s ridiculous but he didn’t really get to make a move when you were busy being the maid of honor and he was the best man. So many people joked with him about getting you in his bed the next of the wedding but Frankie was a gentleman. What he doesn’t know is that you have a crush on him. Ever since you first set eyes on Frankie, you have been like a schoolgirl with a crush and it’s so bad your sister has teased you mercilessly. Your sister answers the door after you arrive with homemade cherry pie and apple pie in hand and she ushers you in. “Frankie is here.” She smirks and you roll your eyes, “it’s been like 2 years. He doesn’t like me like that.” You warn Maria who scoffs and sets the pies down. “Santi thinks he does.” You snort, “Santi just wanted his best friend to be his brother in law.” You raise your eyebrows and she huffs before guiding you outside to see the guys.

As soon as your name is said, Frankie’s head pops up, almost embarrassingly fast. Santiago catches it, but that’s because the bastard was watching him in anticipation. His eyes widen when he sees the flirty little sundress you are wearing, cock twitching in his shorts. Thankful he wasn’t just wearing swimming trunks like Benny was.

You greet each man, Tom over on the grill flipping burgers, until your eyes meet Frankie’s and your heart stutters. God, he’s so fucking handsome. “Hi Frankie.” You smile, trying to not show how flustered you are by the matching grins of your sister and brother in law make it clear that you’re not acting as cool as you want to. “Beer?” Santi offers and you nod, “Frankie, why don’t you get her a beer?” He asks his best friend, eyebrows raised slightly.

He knows what Pope is trying to do and he appreciates it while hating it at the same time. You’ve shown no interest in him, so why is he trying to push the two of you together? You seem nervous around him. “Come on, we’ll get you a good beer.” He promises, holding up his Corona with a lime wedged in the neck. “Not that Miller Lite shit the others are drinking.” Benny scoffs because the last beer Frankie had drank was a Miller and he had just switched to the Corona.

You chuckle and follow him into the kitchen where the beers are in ice to avoid the hot summer heat. You set down the pies you made and Frankie groans, “is that cherry pie?” He asks and you nod, “yeah. My grandma’s recipe.” You tell him and he leans down to smell it. “Fuck, that smells delicious.” His words make your stomach twist with arousal, imagining him between your thighs saying the exact same thing. He grabs a corona and opens it with ease, grabbing a slice of lime to shove in the top. “Thanks. Happy 4th. Thank you for your service.” You toast him with a soft smile, clinking your glass bottle with his after he grabs his drink.

He doesn’t really like when people just thank him for his service, but he feels proud when you say it. Maybe because you are more aware of what he does because of your sister. “It’s hard flying a helicopter and having women throw their panties at me because they don’t know the difference between rotary and fixed wing.” He jokes.

You giggle, hating how girlish you sound but that’s what he does to you. When he was Santi’s best man, you dreamed about him sweeping you off your feet on the wedding night, keeping to the tradition of the maid of honor and best man but he was a gentleman and that, you can’t deny, made you pout in disappointment. “I’m sure you struggle every day.” You mock jokingly before you try to push the lime into the beer but it’s too big.

He shrugs, not willing to comment on that because it would be disrespectful. “Haven’t found a keeper yet.” He admits, knowing the woman he really wants is completely out of his league. You are gorgeous, smart, funny, and responsible. No way you would fall for a trigger puller like him. “What about you? I was surprised when Maria said you were coming alone. Thought you were seeing someone, that it was serious.”

You frown, “seeing someone? I’ve been painfully single for way too long.” You snort and finally manage to push the lime into the beer. Frankie frowns, “I thought - your cousin Danielle told me you had a boyfriend and he was away on business during the wedding events?” Frankie tilts his head and it’s your turn to frown, “boyfriend? I - no. Why would - oh. I know why. She has a crush on you. Told us allll the time about how cute you are but why would she say I had a boyfriend?” You don’t put two and two together, annoyed at your cousin for lying about you.

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, putting two and two together. “I fucking know.” He growls. “Pope was busting my ass about making a move on you at the reception.” Frankie confesses, “she must have overheard the night of the cookout.” He remembers her being annoying and constantly ‘checking on them’ while the guys were outside. The bridal shower had been a family co-ed event for everyone. “She told me later that day.”

“Told you what?” You ask, stomach twisting that Pope was telling him to make a move. You wonder if he wants you like you want him or if he is being polite and he actually told Pope he wasn’t interested in you. “Told me that you had a boyfriend and she - she was interested in me.” You deflate at that, wondering if he hooked up with your cousin and that’s why he hasn’t made a move. You take a sip of your beer, “well, she’s beautiful.” You murmur, glancing down at your pies on the counter.

“But she’s annoying as shit.” Frankie snorts. “No offense.” He adds because she is your cousin. He takes a sip of his beer. “I told her that I wasn’t interested, because I’m not.” Frankie doesn’t like to play around with that shit, because he knows how stressful his job is in a relationship and he doesn’t toy with the women he dates.

You nod, chuckling, “yeah. She’s annoying as shit. I love her but all she wants is to get married and have a kid. I don’t even think she cares who the guy is. Insert man here.” You gesture and take another sip of your beer, “I wondered why she hasn’t been around since.” You hum, “so…have you been seeing anyone?” You ask, curious and mentally preparing yourself for heartbreak because you don’t want to keep fantasizing about him when he could be taken.

Frankie lifts a brow, very interested in the way the conversation has come back to him. “Nope.” He answers truthfully. “Haven’t really felt like it.” He’s had a couple of one night stands, but no one that he’s wanted anything more with. “But I can’t believe you are single.” He admits. “Guys where you live must be blind idiots.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I guess I don’t put myself out there enough. Maria is always telling me to get out in bars and meet someone but it’s not my scene anymore. Did that in college and now? I just want to find my person and settle down, spend nights watching movies with take out and make out on the sofa.” You confess with a giggle before you inhale deeply, deciding to take a leap. “I met someone but I don’t know if he likes me too. It’s hard to read him when he’s hiding behind a cap.” You confess, looking up at the hat on his head.

The Standard Heating Oil hat is a constant when he’s not in uniform, a family business that he had no interest in joining when he joined the Army. He reaches for it now and shuffles it back and scratches his longer than regulation hair and settles it back down. “Hat’s just an accessory.” He flashes you a grin and shuffles a little closer. “I bet the man you’re talking about has always thought you were amazing and wanted to take you out.” He hums.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look at him with surprise in your eyes and a smile on your face. “Well, I’d love to go out. Anytime, Morales. Just name the time and place.” You command and he nods, his hand finding your waist. “Could’ve been dancing during the wedding reception if I knew you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Frankie sighs and you take a chance to reach up and cup his cheek, “better late than never.” You murmur, stroking his stubbled cheek with your thumb.

Frankie’s eyes dip down to your lips and he licks his own without even realizing he’s doing it. Leaning in slightly to kiss you, your lips barely touch when the door opens. “Food’s ready!” Benny shouts out and grins when he sees Frankie. “Go Cat!” He slams the door and turns back to the group out in the yard. “Maria! Frankie’s kissing your sister!”

You chuckle against Frankie’s chin. The kiss is short and sweet, your heart pounding from the brief touch, but the moment has passed so you slide your hand down to Frankie’s neck. “Let’s get some food, Catfish.” You declare and he nods, knowing that he will need to kiss you properly another time where you won’t be interrupted. You make your way outside and everyone is smirking, making you roll your eyes. “Shut up.” You say to your sister and she holds her hand up, “I didn’t say a word.” You snort, “you don’t need to.” She’s been your sounding board for your previously unrequited crush on Frankie.

Frankie moves over to Benny, slapping his back harshly and squeezing the other man’s trap. “Thanks, asshole.” He hisses, even though he’s not too mad. The two of you are on the same page at least and his heart thumps when he looks over at you talking to your sister, even as his cock twitches. “Guest bedroom has fresh sheets.” Pope offers with a shit eating grin. “She’s staying there anyway, but I’m sure you wouldn’t mind christening the bed.”

You grab a hot dog and sit with your sister, talking about your extended family, and you tell her about Danielle and what she said to Frankie. “God, she’s - she’s too much. You mean to tell me she stopped you getting laid on my wedding night?” Maria scoffs, “well, you get the last laugh. The sheets are clean in the guest bed if you wanna have the best man stay tonight?” She smirks and you fluster, “I mean…I wouldn’t say no if he asked.” You confess, “he’s - God, I can really see a life with him. Is that too much?” You ask your sister who looks over at her husband and smiles when he winks at her from across the yard. “Nope. I know exactly what you mean.”

Benny and Pope are giving him hell, ribbing him relentlessly while Will and Tom laugh and egg them on. “Yeah, yeah.” Frankie rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing right along with them after relaying the entire story and feeling extremely confident now. “It’s better that we found out now.” He adds and they are encouraging him to go for it now. “Let her finish her hot dog.” Pope suggest. “Yeah, no deep throating Kong over here until thirty minutes after you’ve eaten.” Benny snorts, having seen Frankie naked more times than he could count. Frankie shoots him a bird.

You see the boys joking around and Maria playfully rolls her eyes. “Boys.” She scoffs and you chuckle, helping her with the plates once everyone is done eating. When you’re back in the kitchen, you look up as Frankie comes in to grab another beer. “Tom is a good griller.” You compliment his captain and Frankie nods, “he is. Always has been. Even when we were out in the middle of the desert, the asshole could grill up something on a fire.” He chuckles and you giggle, “I think later I should really thank you for your service. Show you my…appreciation for your sacrifice for our great nation.” You reach out to trail your nail down his chest, scratching his chest slightly.

“Mierda.” Frankie hisses, cock twitching again. Your boldness is sexy and he loves how you go after what you want. “I didn’t really want to watch fireworks anyway.” He admits with a smirk. “Overrated.”

You grin, loving that he is enthusiastic and not rejecting you. “I said later. I want to see some fireworks first in the sky and after, I want to see them when you make me cum on your tongue.” You declare boldly, leaning in to kiss his neck.

He groans, smirking even wider when you pull back to grin at him. “I see the rumors of my talents have been justifiably spread.” He jokes, sending you a wink. “You’ll see fireworks and then you’ll see stars.”

You giggle and step back when Tom walks into the kitchen to grab another beer. He playfully rolls his eyes at your proximity to Frankie, “can you two at least wait until after the fireworks? I bought like three packs. Benny is banned from letting off fireworks.” He reminds Fish who nods and reaches for your hand to squeeze it. You snort and ask “why?” and Frankie sighs, “well, Benny is great with a M4A1 but nearly burns his dick off with fireworks.” You nod in understanding and Tom takes a gulp of his beer, “you gonna come outside and help set up?” Tom asks and Frankie nods, squeezing your hand before he heads off to help Tom. You are anxious for later, knowing this would seem fast to most but you’ve wanted Frankie for nearly 3 years.

“Man, are you sure about this?” Tom asks seriously as the two of them walk outside. “This is Maria’s sister, if shit doesn’t work out….” He trails off, looking over at where Pope and his wife are sitting in one of the loungers, making out. “Yeah I know.” Frankie has thought about that a few times. His best friend would be honor bound to break his kneecaps. “But I think she’s worth it.”

You clean up some dishes, setting them aside to dry while the boys set up the fireworks. You head outside to find Frankie and Tom stepping back from the set up in the back of the yard and you see Pope sitting on the lounger with your sister between his legs, his hands caressing her thighs. “Get a room!” You yell at them playfully and your sister shouts back, “I have one upstairs.” You chuckle and walk over to Benny, “you think this is a good decision? Me and Frankie? I feel…I really like him but I don’t want him to break my heart.”

Benny snorts, nearly choking on his beer. “Fish?” He asks, pointing over to Frankie. “The man has it bad for you. Thinks moon beams shoot out of your ass and shit.” He jokes, trying to reassure you at the same time. “He’s pined for you. One of the reasons he hasn’t really dated. Said that he had already found the woman for him, but she was taken.”

You cover your smile with your beer, pleased that his friend said that. “We wasted time because my cousin lied but I don’t want to waste another second. I really like him and I - I want to see where it goes.” You confess just as Frankie comes over. His arm wraps around your waist to pull you against him and you smile, leaning into his side while Tom sets the fireworks off.

Frankie likes your weight against him as you both look up into the sky. “Enjoy the show.” He murmurs in your ear. “It’s just the first one of the night.”

You grin and nod, looking up at the sky as the fireworks begin. It’s gorgeous and your eyes widen at the display. “Wow.” You gasp and tilt your head, resting it on his shoulder to look up at the sky in awe.

The moment is completely perfect as he watches the fireworks as they burst overhead. Neighbors around the house also start shooting bursting bombs of color and light into the air, making the entire neighborhood light up. The display will go on for hours. “Happy Fourth of July.” Frankie hums.

You hum, lifting your head to look at him and he turns to look at you. His eyes flick down to your lips and you lean in at the same time he does. His nose nudges yours for a second, giving you a chance to back away, but when you don’t, his lips press against yours. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss as the fireworks explode over your head.

Frankie tightens his hold on you, drawing you closer while your tongue slides against his and makes him moan. He likes a woman who’s willing to initiate. His hands sliding up and down your back before he palms your ass possessively.

You whimper into his mouth, your hands sliding up to grip his neck and his hat is pushed back on his head as he kisses you thoroughly, squeezing your ass until you feel him starting to harden against your hip. The group notices and starts to cheer, making you fluster as you pull back from Frankie’s mouth.

“Get a room.” Santi snorts, grinning at Frankie before he waggles his brows at you. Tom chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Just don’t run off to get married.” He warns playfully. Frankie huffs and shakes his head. “You all suck.” He teases. “We are going to go upstairs now.”

You ignore the way everyone smirks as Frankie takes your hand and guides you through the yard into the house where you switch to guide him up the stairs. It’s a house Frankie knows well. He worked on it with Santi after he bought it, helping to update it. You giggle as you make your way upstairs and squeal when Frankie smacks your ass through your sundress. You find the door to the guest room and open it, pulling Frankie in behind you before you shut the door.

“So now we are alone.” Frankie smirks as he pushes the lock on the door knob and looks over at you. “And we aren’t nearly as drunk as we would have been at the wedding reception.” He adds. “That dress was killer though.”

“Thanks. I told my sister I’d only be maid of honor if I got to pick my dress.” You tease and make your way over to the foot of the bed after you kick off your sandals. “You looked so handsome in that suit. Wanted to rip it off of you but shit…Danielle ruined our good intentions.” You chuckle and take a step closer to him, “but we are here now and I want you, Frankie. I want you to touch me.” You plead, sliding your hands along his chest.

“Shorts and a t-shirt are just as good as a suit?” He asks jokingly as he pulls you closer again. “Although I like this dress too.” He slides one hand down to dip under the fabric. “Easy access.”

You smile when he caresses the back of your thigh and you lean in to kiss his clavicle on display above his t-shirt. “Shorts and t-shirt. Suit. Whatever you’re wearing, you are sexy, Morales. No two ways about it.” You murmur as you kiss along his collarbone.

“You’re sexy.” He finds the zipper to the sundress and drags it down. Eager to feel you under his hands. “Wanted to bend you over the wedding party table and fuck you right there.”

You let him pull the zipper down and you lower your arms so he can push the thin straps from your shoulders, letting the dress drop to the floor. “God, imagine that. Fucking me instead of making your best man speech.” You joke and you’re glad your dress didn’t require a bra.

“Woulda been great.” He moans when he peels the dress off you and sees your tits. “Fuck.” He hisses. “They are fucking pretty.” He compliments. “I want to suck on them when you ride my cock.”

“We can do that, baby. I just - shit - I just need you to touch me.” You plead, having spent so many nights imagining him touching you, inside of you, it’s almost unbearable to wait another second and when his hands squeeze your tits, you sigh in relief. “Yes. Please Frank.” You beg, your hand finding his hat so you can toss it onto the dresser.

“You are so goddamn pretty.” He murmurs softly, cupping your tits and pinching your nipples. “Do you want me to fuck you? Or eat you out first.”

The fact that he’s asking you what you want has your pussy clenching around nothing and you are impatient. You want him inside of you. “Fuck me first.” You demand, reaching for the hem of his shirt, “I want to see all of you.” You whine, pulling his shirt over his head when he lets go of your tits.

He is smirking at your impatience and eagerness, letting you reach for the button of his shorts. “Strip me down, baby.” He encourages. “I want you to touch me too. Imagined how good you would feel. How fucking perfect.” He groans. “You don’t know how often I thought about you while I was jerking my cock.”

You unbutton his shorts and push them down along with his briefs and he kicks them off while your eyes widen at the sight of his thick cock. “Probably as much as I touched myself thinking about you but fuck, I never imagined you’d be so…big.” You confess, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

He groans at your touch, rocking his hips forward and twitching when you squeeze him. “Don’t think I’ll fit?” He asks playfully. “I think I’ll fit, but I know you’ll be the tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You never knew he was such a dirty talker but you fucking love it. You moan and squeeze him again, guiding him by his cock back towards the bed and you let go of him as you fall down onto the bed and he follows you. He grabs your waist and lifts you up higher until you’re settled on the pillows. “Hi.” You murmur with a smile as he kneels between your spread legs.

“Hi.” He slides his hands up and down your thighs before he wraps a hand around his cock and starts to pump it. “You look so fucking pretty spread out for me, baby.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours while he settles into the v of your hips and lines up to sink into you inch by inch.

You cup his cheeks and lift your legs higher as he pushes into you, stretching you out. It’s a pinch without foreplay but you love how he’s stretching you out. “Oh God.” You gasp against his lips and he leans back, stopping. “You good, hermosa?” He asks and you nod, “yeah. Just overwhelmed. I never - didn’t think this would actually happen.” You confess softly, caressing his cheeks.

He nudges his nose against yours and kisses you softly. “I didn’t either.” He admits. “But it is happening and you are taking me so well. You feel so fucking good around my cock.” He is still inside you, praising you and loving how you clench down around him.

He pushes the rest of the way into you until his cock is nudging your cervix and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes at the way he feels inside you. “Fuck me, Morales.” You demand playfully and he shifts his hips, making you moan, your head tilting back against the pillow at how good he feels.

He chuckles and slowly pulls back, watching your body arch as you try to draw him back in. “Remember you asked for this.” He warns, another firework exploding above the house muffles the sound of your scream when he snaps his hips forward again.

He starts to fuck you in earnest and you cling to him, mouth open as you cry out his name in pleasure. It’s so fucking good. His hand squeezes your tit and you cover his hand with yours, making him squeeze again. “Oh shit. You feel - it’s so fucking good.” You praise him as he rocks into you.

It’s not the romantic, gentle time he probably should have been trying to focus on. This is raw, needy. Years worth of wanting being burnt off with the harsh snap of his hips and the groans when he’s buried so deep inside you that your walls clench around him. “You’re a fucking dream, baby.” He moans your name and kisses your neck. “Blowing my mind, fuck- I’m already about to bust.”

You moan at the fact that he’s so worked up. You’ve reduced this grown man to almost cumming like a teenager and that makes you clench around him, getting close. “I don’t care. You can cum. It’s safe. I have - fuck - I have an IUD. You can cum inside me.” You promise and caress his shoulders as he hunches over you.

That does it for him. He hasn’t even thought about birth control when he normally is an ‘always wear a condom’ kind of guy. The thought of filling you up as his hips stuttering before he pushes deep, painting your walls with ropes of his hot, sticky seed as he groans your name and apologizes over and over.

You stroke his back, enjoying the warmth of his cum filling you up. You sigh, closing your eyes and you know that he will make this up to you. You lower your legs from his hips as he comes to a stop and pants into your neck.

“Fuck, I can’t believe that I did that.” Frankie pants, pulling back to look you in the eyes as he kisses you. “Now, I’ll show you that I can make you cum on my tongue at least.” He promises, feeling a little embarrassed about his quick performance.

You shake your head, “it’s okay, baby. I’ll take it as a compliment. Just means you liked my pussy.” You tease, sliding your hands up to tangle in his hair as you lean in to nip his jaw playfully. “We have more times ahead.” You murmur, knowing that he won’t always do that.

“Shiiiit.” He snorts, shaking his head. “I have to take care of my girl.” He nudges his nose against yours, feeling on top of the world that you want to be with him. He smirks after one more kiss and starts to drag his mouth down your body as he moves towards his goal, determined to make you see stars like he had promised.

You watch him as he pulls out of you and starts to kiss down your body. You moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, biting down on the bud until it’s puffy and you are squirming beneath him. “Fuck, Frankie.” You moan, already feeling his cum welling up to leak out of you. “Do you want me to - to clean up before you - you know.” You ask, wanting to see if he wants you to clean his cum first. Some men don’t like tasting themselves.

Frankie grunts, shaking his head as he suckles on your tit before pulling off of it. “Why?” He asks, lifting a brow. “I’m just going to make you messy again when I make you cum and then fuck you like I should have the first time.”

You moan when he starts to kiss down your stomach, “some men don’t like it.” You answer and he rests his chin on your lower stomach, “I’m not some men. I don’t give a fuck if you’re full of my cum. I’m going to make you cum.” He promises and you whimper when his breath hits your slicked up folds.

The pearlescent liquid that is starting to drip out of you doesn’t bother Frankie. He uses his thumbs to pull your folds back, exposing your sensitive clit to his hungry gaze and he moans when he sees your cunt clench, pushing more of his cum out. “Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight.” He groans, looking up at you while he lowers his head down to suck your clit into his mouth.

His mouth is hot and wet as he sucks on your clit and a soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation. “Fuck. That feels good.” You murmur, stroking your fingers through his hair as his dark eyes watch you from between your thighs.

Frankie has never been a passive lover. He doesn’t take and not give in return. Even the one night stands left his bed unable to tell anyone that he had been selfish or didn’t try to make sure they had a good time. You, he especially wants to enjoy this, he wants you to love it. To be addicted to it and him in turn. The same way he is already addicted to you. He flattens his tongue against your folds and tastes the two of you combined with a moan.

You moan at the way he laps at you, tasting his own spend from your pussy, and you love the way his hands squeeze your thighs as he pushes them further apart to accommodate his wide shoulders. "Shit." You hiss in pleasure when he pushes his tongue inside of you.

He chuckles into you, aware that you are both shocked and awed by the fact that he’s willing to devour you so thoroughly. It makes it even better, his spent cock twitching as he feels your walls pulse around his tongue. Moaning at how good you are being for him. He can hear the cheers and the fireworks outside, but he’s focused on you, nothing else matters right now as he laps at your cunt.

Your head tilts back as his nose nudges against your clit and your chest heaves as the pleasure makes your spine tingle. The way he’s devouring you like a man starved has your mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Frankie groans, unwilling to pull away from your cunt to encourage you, so he just makes sounds as he doubles down on your pussy. Wanting to see you come apart for him as his cock starts to harden again.

His tongue pushes deep, lapping up his cum combined with yours, and you whimper, getting closer as he nudges your clit with his nose again. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan and he works his tongue faster, sending you over the edge.

He absorbs your sounds, loving how they muffle through your pussy and your walls flutter wildly as your body arches. Sucking your clit into his mouth and pulling on it while your body shakes and he wrings every drop of pleasure out of you that he can until you are pushing at his head. He lets go, licking at you softly just to feel you convulse with aftershocks and he chuckles quietly. “Now we’re even.”

You chuckle breathlessly, eyes closed as you enjoy the way he makes you feel, and you sigh in bliss as he kisses his way back up your body. You drag him down to press your lips to his, not caring about the combined taste on his tongue as it tangles with yours. You slide your hand down between you, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock. “Lay down.” You order, letting go of him to push on his chest.

He rolls onto his back and reaches for you. “You want to ride?” He asks, helping you as you swing a leg over his waist and straddle him. The next barrage of fireworks starts to burst, lighting up the bedroom and he grins. “There’s a show to compete with.”

You smirk, sliding down his body until you’re kneeling between his legs. His cock is still half hard so you wrap your fingers around him and take the head of his cock into your mouth. You love the way he groans and his mouth falls open as his dark eyes watch you.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, wanting to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling but he wants to watch you more. Knowing that this is so much better than his wildest dreams about you. “Fuck, baby, that mouth.” He groans. “I knew you would look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. So fucking pretty.” He reaches down and caresses your cheek, feeling the jaw move as you take him deeper.

He hardens more in your mouth and you love that, tasting the tang of your arousal lingering on his skin and you whimper around his cock as you start to pump what you can’t take into your mouth.

“Fuck, I want you to ride me.” Frankie whines. “Want to see your tits bounce while you ride my cock. Want to watch you.” He pants and curses again. “Mierda- that tongue of yours.” He hisses when you press your tongue against his slit. “Ride me, baby. Please ride me.”

You want to deny him and make him cum down your throat but you want to cum on his cock. You moan and release his cock, a string of spit keeping you connected until it breaks as you shift to straddle him. You reach down to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance after you lift up to sink down onto his length with a moan, fireworks still exploding outside.

“Fuck!” He rocks his hips up and grabs onto yours as he groans. You are perfect around him, looking like a goddess as you are taking his cock deep into your body. “Perfect, baby. Fuck, you are so perfect.” He reaches up and drags you down for a kiss.

You moan into his mouth, loving the way he feels even bigger in this new angle. “Fuck.” You pant against his mouth and rock back onto him. Your hands sliding into his hair as you slide your tongue against his.

Frankie holds onto you, adoring you with his hands. Cupping your tits and squeezing them as you slowly start to rock. Rolling your hips and squeezing your cock. “Fuck, baby.” He moans into your mouth breathlessly.

He loves the way you rock back onto him and you caress his chest as you kiss along his jaw. He feels so good inside you. “Fuck. You’re so good, baby.” You gasp, hitting something good inside of you.

“That’s it, baby.” Frankie encourages, holding you up and ducking his head so he can take a nipple into his mouth. Doing exactly what he said he wanted to do.

You rock back onto his cock, shifting back to sit up and you grab onto the headboard to start bouncing on his length. His eyes burn into yours and you watch him as your thighs start to burn but you ignore it and focus on the pleasure.

He watches, completely entranced by the sight of you riding him like he was a prized bull. Your fingernails dig into his chest and make him hiss in pleasure at the sweet sting as you brace yourself over him. “Fuck, fuck.” His eyes dip down between your thighs and he watches your lips drag over his shaft, making his toes curl when you clench down around him.

You are lost in the sensations, mouth open and whimpers escaping as you move faster, grinding down onto his cock, and your hand slides down to rub your clit. Frankie’s hand immediately knocks yours away and you whine until he picks up where you left off, rubbing your clit and you pant, “I’m so close. Shit. Keep going. Just like that. Just like - fuckkkk.” You wail, freezing on top of him as your walls clamp down on his cock while you soak him.

Frankie growls when you clamp down on him, soaking his cock and he braces his feet in the bed to rock up into you. Chasing his own release again while you shake and whimper, riding out your high. “Fuck, baby. Love it, love you.” He blurts out, knowing that you might not believe it, but he does love you.

His confession, even though it could be the best of the moment, makes you choke out, “love you too. Fuck, Frankie. Loved you since - since the engagement party.” You confess, wanting him to cum inside you again. “Cum for me. Please. Want to feel it again.” You beg, squeezing his cock in your walls.

He gasps out, holding tight to you as his cock drives up into your grasping walls over and over. “Fuck- you- you’re perfect.” He rambles, turning his head to press his lips to yours as his entire body tenses. Another thrust buries him deep and he’s moaning into your mouth as he falls over the edge again, cock pulsing deep inside you.

You pant against his lips as he stiffens beneath you, painting your walls again, and you caress his cheek, “so good. That time was - wow.” You murmur, relaxing above him as he slides his hands along your back down to your ass to playfully squeeze it.

“Had to make up for the first time.” Frankie jokes, even though it obviously hadn’t bothered you. He kisses you softly and sighs. “You’re amazing.” He has always thought so. “And I meant it. It’s too soon to say something like that, but I don’t just like you or want to sleep with you.” He admits. “I want to have a relationship. See where this goes.”

You caress his chest, “Frankie, we have known each other for four years. I think I’ve been in love with you for three of those. It’s not rushed and it’s not some fling. I want a relationship with you. I love you and I am all in if you are.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss his chin.

Frankie hums and shoots you a grin. “That sounds perfect to me.” He comments, just as the last barrage of fireworks quiets down and cheers are heard around the neighborhood. “Everyone agrees too.” He jokes, happy to finally be here with you and sharing how he feels.

****

“Thanks.” You say to your sister after she hands you a beer. “No worries. Bet you’re glad you don’t need to breastfeed anymore.” She grins and you snort, “yeah. I love him more than life but sometimes I just wanted a beer without having to pump and dump.” You confess, looking over at Santi and your husband, Frankie, as they talk. You have your son on your hip and he’s eight months old now. Santi and Maria’s daughter runs around chasing Uncle Benny, the lively two year old giggling while Tom grills and Will sips his beer overseeing the food.

“You know, Santi and I have thought about trying for another.” Your sister admits, grinning at the squeals of joy as her daughter is scooped up by Benny and he blows raspberries against her tummy. She shrugs slightly. “You having Marcus gave us baby fever. Especially Santi.” She rolls her eyes playfully, amazed that her sexy husband is so enthralled by the idea of getting her pregnant again. He loved her body while carrying their daughter and loves the changes that had brought to her post baby body.

You chuckle, leaning in to kiss the forehead of your baby as he babbles away on your hip. He will want to be crawling around in a minute but you want to hold him for a little longer. “Well, I’ll be honest…I kind of want another one too. Frankie is such a good dad and I just - we got pregnant by surprise with Marcus and we wanted him as soon as we found out but I kind of want to get pregnant knowing we are trying.” You tilt your head, “does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.” She promises, knowing you better than most. You want to wonder if every time your husband cums inside you if that is the time you create another life together. “It’s the anticipation and fun of trying.” She smirks. “I think that your husband has a breeding kink that might come out.” She teases playfully.

"You think so?" You smirk, looking over at Frankie as his gaze meets yours and he winks at you from under his ever present hat. "I like the idea of that. If we both try, we could be pregnant at the same time." You tell her and she grins, "how freaking amazing would that be? So, are we doing this? Telling our husbands to knock us up again?" She asks and you nod, "hell yeah." She giggles and reaches for Marcus, "lemme hold my nephew for a bit. Go tell your husband what you want." She smirks and you let her take your son into her arms and you sway your hips as you walk over to Frankie who is now alone as Santi walks over to Maria, cooing over the baby. "Happy 4th, baby. Thank you for your service." You murmur as you lean in to lick his ear. 

Shivering, Frankie groans and turns his head to press his lips to yours. “I love when you thank me.” He teases, remembering the very enthusiastic blow job he had gotten on Veteran’s Day, even though you were still pregnant and weren’t always feeling sexy. “This is our anniversary.” He reminds you with a grin, loving the re-telling of the story every year when the fireworks start. Every year the tales of your screams are even more exaggerated, but he doesn’t dispute Benny’s telling of the story. “I love you more now, if that’s possible.”

You reach up to cup his cheek as he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you so much.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss him softly and he chases your lips as you pull back. “I have something I want to talk about.” You confess, sliding your hand down his chest. “Yeah?” He asks, brow furrowing in curiosity. “I want another baby.” You admit, biting your lip to wait for his reaction.

Frankie is honestly surprised, thinking that you would want a year or two before talking about another. “Are you sure?” He asks, wondering if his pride in Marcus and being a dad has somehow pressured you into thinking that he needs another kid now. “Yeah.” You grin and shrug your shoulders. “Maria and I were thinking that you and Santi could get us pregnant and we can go through it together.” He glances over at his best friend and your sister as they play with Marcus and he has to admit that it would be fun to share the expectant dad role with Santi. “Only if you’re really wanting another baby now.” He murmurs. “You are the one who has to go through everything.”

You nod, “I want this. I want us to enjoy trying for a baby. Marcus was a surprise and I want us to actively try and know that when you’re filling me up, it’s to knock me up.” You explain, “we have been using condoms anyway since I didn’t bother with another IUD after Marcus. We could start trying tonight.” You suggest with a smirk as you press yourself against him.

You can feel his cock twitch when you’re pressed against him, so Frankie doesn’t even deny that it sounds good to him. “I’ll burn the damn condoms.” He vows, hating wearing them, but he wasn’t going to push you towards a different birth control. He just loves feeling nothing between you. “You want a Fourth of July baby, baby?” He smirks back at you, leaning in to kiss you again.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding into his mouth. You moan when his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your shorts, and you ignore the cheers from your friends as Frankie devours you. “Guessing you said yes too, huh Fish?” Santi smirks as he walks over with Marcus on his hip. You step back from Frankie and take your son from his godfather, “you hungry, baby?” You ask and Marcus squeezes your breast, making you laugh. “Come on, let’s get you a snack.” You coo to your baby as you carry him into the house to get a snack for him.

Santiago slaps Frankie on the back and laughs. “Fuck, we are in for it now.” He jokes, smiling broadly at the adventures to come. “First one to get their wife pregnant has to buy the rounds throughout the pregnancy.” He tells him, making Frankie snort. “Pendejo.” He huffs. “You just want me to buy the drinks.” He won’t give a shit about it though. Proudly will buy the drinks since he’s a lucky fucking man. He’s got the woman he wanted and the life he never imagined he would have, all because of the Fourth of July.

[gurugirl]

The Con Artist | Part 1*

Summary: You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you he finds it difficult to resist your charms.

A/n: This is detective!harry x crimina!reader / y/n | This will be a short series (3-7? parts). The Con Artist Masterlist

6.7k words

Warning: Criminal activity detailed (drugging, stealing, conning), smut (oral sex)

◈ ◈ ◈

The first time you remember stealing anything was when you were about three years old. From what you recall, you were with your mother at a dollar store of some sort. On the bottom shelf in one of the aisles was a pretty mirrored compact. It snapped close with a satisfying click and opened up easily for your three-year-old hands and so you put it into your mother’s purse as she was bringing you out of the store.

Being three years old, though, you forgot all about the mirrored compact when she surprised you with a toy she bought for you. The next day she came across the stolen item and somehow, she knew you’d done it. Because maybe there had been some sort of pattern. You just can’t remember stealing before that day.

But then you started stealing clothes from the mall when you were older. Lip balm (you became fond of the Chanel lip balm in Light but frequently settled for a Lancôme or Clinique as they were usually easier to snatch up), candles (the expensive ones to make it worth your while), pens, and lighters. You stole anything small enough to be taken without anyone noticing.

The only time you ever got caught was when your mom found the mirrored case in her purse when you were three. Even now, 23 years later. Here you are, stealing for a living. The man lying on the bed you are standing next to is knocked out cold. You may or may not have slipped him a little something to send him off to sleepy time before he could take his pants off, but that was the game. He wanted something and so did you.

Yours was a simple grift. Straight men are easy. All you have to do is hang out in really nice clubs and bars near the nice neighborhoods. Dress a certain way. Talk a certain way. Compliment the man. Compliment him some more. Laugh at his attempt at flirting and play dumb. Definitely laugh at his jokes. Act dumb. Sit alone. Bat your lashes. That kind of bullshit.

The man would need to be rich, or if not rich, showy and cocky (because how fucking annoying is a showy cocky asshole with nothing to actually show for it?). You typically looked for a nice watch (Rolex is easy to spot, but the really expensive watches are Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe). He’d need to be a little drunk. Or even desperate is fine. Sometimes drunk isn’t necessary. You just need to get him to take you to his home. Never to yours. Married men would suggest a hotel. And that could work too, under the right circumstances. And married men were special because they’d never report you.

Then, once you’re in his house you suggest a nightcap, a drink for your nerves you say (a lie because you don’t drink alcohol) and insist on making them yourself. Drop in enough crushed benzos and voila. The man thinks he’s about to get laid but he falls asleep fast and you steal his cash and his jewelry. And sometimes a few other things you can take with you on your way out the door.

Tonight’s meal is a married man but his wife is out of town. The “house” is in Hope Ranch but it’s more like a mansion. It’s massive and the guy is loaded. That’s all you care about.

You served him a gin and tonic with a lime wedge and 10 mg of crushed-up benzos. You poured yourself a tonic and chucked a lime in for good measure, so it looked like you were drinking too.

He brought you to his room after drinking his glass of nighty-night juice and you could tell it was taking effect. He fell asleep almost too quickly. But who were you to complain? His wallet was lying on the coffee table and his Rolex was an easy snag. You were out the door in less than an hour. He only had about $50 cash in his wallet but the Rolex would be worth around nine thousand dollars for you. You loved the dumbasses with the expensive watches the most. Rolexes are a dime a dozen. They’re the easiest to come by and the easiest to get rid of.

By the time you get back to your little studio, it’s past 3 am. You don’t live in the best part of LA but it’s also not bad. Koreatown has its moments. The supposedly haunted Gaylord Apartments studio has been your home for the last two years. You truly could afford something nicer but it’s hard to imagine paying more than you already do for rent. It’s a waste of money really. You’re living fine and saving your cash. You don’t want to be a thief all your life. Just for long enough to save up so you can go anywhere you want, buy a house for cash, and live out your days as an old maid who never found love. Because love seems like a pipe dream at this point.

Men suck. But then again, you’re not really much of a catch yourself. So ending up alone is probably your true calling. You’ll buy a bunch of books, get a few cats, maybe grow a garden and wear robes all day long. Drink cold juice and watch murder mysteries at night with your cats all curled up around you, and fall asleep on your couch because sleeping alone in your bed just sounds depressing. And maybe you’ll do some traveling. Who knows? You’ve amassed a decent amount of money. You’ve given yourself until 30 and then you’ll call it quits. Just a few more years.

At the Gaylord, you’re not allowed to have pets, but you can have fish. You crouch down to look into your aquarium and see that Buster and Barry are fine. They usually are. They’re pea puffers. Kind of cute really. But Buster killed his first mate, Brenda.  When you introduced Barry, Buster left him alone. Buster and Barry don’t usually interact which is why they get along. You had no idea that puffers could tend to be aggressive but when Brenda was found belly up in the 10-gallon tank one Thursday evening after you’d secured a nice Saint Laurent coat and a Royal Oak Piguet, you were quite disappointed. You’d had such a good night too. The Royal Oak was worth close to $60 thousand. And the coat was just an extra on your way out the door. But poor Brenda. Dead in a day.

You turned off their fish tank light, “Goodnight boys.”

At night, when you were alone in your bed you’d think about the things you’d done. You never really found guilt anytime you thought back. You did feel like what you were doing was wrong, though. You knew that much, you just didn’t feel that bad about any of it, though. You’d made yourself a nice small fortune and you did it doing something you loved. Why did you love stealing from unsuspecting idiot men?

Who knows?

You had a mostly-typical upbringing. Your mom and dad split when you were five and you saw your dad every other weekend like most of your friends with their dads.

Your mom was a good mom. She took care of you. Loved you. Protected you. Encouraged you.

You didn’t have an unusual childhood. Others who had it far worse turned out normal. You had no excuse. No trauma to point at. No mental health problems ran in the family. No vendetta against men. Nothing to prove.

You just liked it. There was a thrill that came with it. And the better you got at it, the more fun it was. And you loathed the idea of working a regular job somewhere earning a living wage. A living wage. What a joke. You were earning like a CEO and not once did you ever have to put out for anyone you didn’t want to. Everything was on your terms.

You could sleep in as late as you wanted. Skip a day of work if you chose, never needing to call anyone to tell them you were taking a sick day. You could do two in one day if you were on a roll. Or you could abandon ship if the man you started chatting up turned out to be someone you could actually see yourself fucking. Because you did draw the line there.

If you started to become interested in the guy, or he was attractive enough, and he invited you back to his place you would have a choice to make. You could stay the course, drug him, and then steal his watch and his money or you could just have a fun night with an attractive man at his place. You wouldn’t steal from someone you’d slept with. You had some moral boundaries.

You were nice, though. You weren’t like a bitch to anyone. But I guess ask any of the men you’d stolen from and they’d have a different mind about that. You had a small handful of friends. You didn’t like letting people get too close, though. For good reason. Because when you got close it became harder to hide your dark secret. People always asked what you did for a living. What an intrusive question to ask anyone. You always made up some lie about working online and inputting data for a medical corporation. Something that pointed to you making just enough money that would explain your nice clothes and expensive purses, but also that would have you home during the day.

Your best friend, Raechel knows your secret. Probably your mom as well. Also, Josh who buys your stolen goods but that’s a different story. But that’s it. In the whole wide world, you have one person that you’ve told directly what you do (again, not counting Josh). Because you couldn’t hide it anymore. And Raechel is still around. She’s your best friend. Now your mom, well, you never told her but she knows. She’s not dumb.

Bright and early the next morning, if you can consider 11:30 am bright and early, you headed to your dealer slash fence man, Josh, after shooting him a message that you were on your way.

You had with you the white dial Rolex Daytona you took off of whatever his name was the night before. Now, this watch is worth about $20,000 but Josh would take a big cut of the profit because he was the one going and selling the stolen item, he needed to make money from the deal too. Plus whoever he sold it to wouldn’t pay him the full $20,000 either, because they also needed to make a profit.

You met him in your usual spot. He took a look at the jewelry and searched for the model reference number to make sure of its value. Then you left with $8,500 in cash and a quarter ounce of Girl Scout Cookies (that’s a nice strain of marijuana bud to clarify).

The bank wouldn’t take big ass deposits like that at a time or there’d be some kind of flag on your account and it would get reported to the IRS (protocol), so you generally would only deposit $3,000 at a time. Which also meant you had a large stash of cash in your apartment at all times. You tried to space out the deposits. Had multiple bank accounts at different banks, and went to different branches in different locations but cash was difficult to work with at times. It was the only part of the job you hated. Dealing with all that cash. Especially when you preferred to save most of it. You usually bought yourself nice things, but most of your money you didn’t touch. You were serious about your future plan of buying a house for cash and getting lots of cats.

Tonight you planned on going to the Warwick again. The last time you were there was six months ago. You’d gotten a big hit with a B-list celebrity and you didn’t want to show your face around there for a while just in case he found you there or anyone recognized you somehow. Six months seemed like a good amount of time to wait.

You stopped at your favorite café and picked up a latte and scone to go. Then you walked to Liberty Park to drink and eat your breakfast slash lunch in the sunshine.

You wondered who would be at the club tonight. The Warwick was usually crawling with celebrities (lots of money). You knew how to handle them all. It really didn’t take much though. Look cute, act dumb. Usually. There were a few times you’d encountered a celebrity or wealthy man who was looking for someone with substance, but that wasn’t what you were going for. You searched for the ones who wanted one fun night and nothing more.

You were sitting on the concrete ledge near the sculpture and sipping your hot latte when a shadow appeared blocking the sun from your body. You looked up to see a tall man looking down at you. Instantly you sat up straight. He was very attractive.

“Hi… I was hoping you could point me in the direction of The Ritz Carlton. I seem to be lost…” he looked at his cell phone and then held its screen to your face and you laughed, placing your latte down next to you.

You stood up and smiled and noticed he didn’t have a watch on his wrist (old habit), “You’re definitely lost. The nearest Ritz is gonna be like a 45-minute walk from here. It’s that way,” you pointed in the direction of the 110, though it couldn’t be seen from where you were.

“Fuck. Well, thank you, I guess. I’m new here and went for a walk and found myself enjoying the sun and now here I am. Lost puppy in a big city.”

The man had thick, dark hair, seafoam green eyes with a dark green limbal ring, richly pigmented lips, and a jawline that could cut rock. And he was British. Clearly from out of town.

You held out your hand and introduced yourself and he quickly wrapped his big paw around yours and you saw the tattoo on his wrist. His clothes didn’t indicate that he was well-off. But sometimes it was hard to tell. Some rich guys didn’t give a fuck. This one didn’t. If he was, in fact, wealthy.

“Harry. Nice to meet you. S’hard finding a friendly face in a new city. Do you live here?”

“I do. Not far from here. What are you in town for, Harry?” You asked, keeping eye contact. You didn’t know if you should size him up for a job or see if you could get him to take you back to his hotel for a fuck. This guy looked like he could fuck. Tall and broad, deep voice, and big hands. A dimpled smile.

“Ahh, just work. Plan to be here for about a month. Staying at The Ritz off Olympic while I’m in town,” he smirked at you and that was all you needed to hear to know he was interested. Yeah, you’d fuck him.

“Is that so? For a month huh? Here, let me give you my number, ya know, in case you need anyone to show you around. A friendly face like you said…” you gestured toward his phone so you could put your number in and he unlocked it and opened up his messages app.

You were bold. You had no problem picking up a guy to fuck. You just needed to be somewhat straightforward. Your jobs were different. Playing coy was the game when they wanted to feel like they were in charge. But when it came to actually fucking someone, you were in charge and you wanted them to know it.

“Seems quite forward to give your number to a complete stranger, Y/n,” he spoke your name, wrapping his lips around the vowels in the most sensual way. That mouth of his could do some damage. You swallowed.

You laughed and shrugged, “Not really. It’s just a number. Now, what you do with it is up to you. If you’re bold, you’ll use it.”

Harry grinned at you and the way you nearly let your knees buckle when you saw his dimples was not a normal reaction. But Harry was gorgeous. You'd let him fuck you if he was into it. Absolutely. This man could get it from the top to the bottom. He was well-muscled and sturdy under his clothes. Something told you he’d have a big dick too and you’d love to let him use it on you.

You shook yourself of your thoughts and Harry cleared his throat, “Well, thank you. I’ll certainly consider calling you,” he lifted his cell phone upward as he spoke.

You were a little disappointed by his remark. Consider calling you? What the fuck? Maybe he wasn’t straight. Would explain why you found him attractive. All the hot ones were some shade of gay. But he was flirting with you... Wasn’t he?

Harry waved as he walked off and you sat back down to finish your latte and dry scone.

◈ ◈ ◈

You got yourself dolled up and tried to erase the way you were feeling annoyed that Harry hadn’t messaged you or called you. You gave him your number. You were rarely rejected. Unless he was gay… You laughed at yourself as you sprayed your hair to hold the style and then looked at your phone again. It was 9 pm. The perfect time to show up at the Warwick. It was time to work.

You were let in with no problem, despite the long line to get in. No cover for you. You got yourself a soda water with lemon and sauntered around the perimeter. Lots of groups tonight. Some of the guys watched you walk by. But you were specific. Precise about the men you worked. The young ones in the groups were probably spending more than they could afford to be there. Not your type. You moved along the lower room until you spotted a group of men sitting together. Now, these guys were job material. Men with money.

You neared them slowly, sipping your soda water until one of them looked up and saw you. You smiled at him and kept walking until you found a place to sit where you could be in the sight line of the man with whom you smiled. He had his eyes on you alright.

You’d give it ten minutes before heading their way. Just to see if he’d come to you first. Just to see if he was into feeling like he had the upper hand. Sometimes older men preferred more traditional roles and liked to be the aggressor. Oh, little did they know…

You swung your left leg over your right one, letting your dress ride up your thigh so he could see what you were working with. You smiled at him again and then looked away, pretending to be caught in the act.

But then suddenly someone sat down next to you, catching you off guard. You jerked your neck toward the intruder (this was not uncommon), ready to tell him to buzz off when you were met with the warm smile of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your look of disdain quickly turned to one of excitement and you couldn’t help the smile that crawled over your face at the sight of Harry. He was in a suit; his hair was styled just so with a thick curl falling over his forehead. He had rings on his fingers and he looked like he’d been drinking a little with dazed-out eyes on yours.

“Y/n. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his gaze dropped down to your dress and your thigh and then back up to your face.

You mimicked his display, dragging your eyes down his frame and back up to his handsome face, “It’s been a while since I’ve been out. Felt like a good night to have some fun.”

The man you’d scoped, was long forgotten as you and Harry began to chat. He was alone at Warwick. Like you. And he was hot. He was clearly a bit tipsy with the way he was so loose with touching your arm and your hand, the way he’d pause his eyes at your lips as you spoke.

The thing that really got you worked up was how he’d lean in to speak into your ear so you could hear him. It was necessary to do because the club was so loud, but you fucking loved having him so close you could smell him and feel his voice vibrating off your ear.

“You look amazing,” he said as he plucked at the hem of your short dress, his fingers brushing against the skin on your thigh as he did so. Probably on purpose. Definitely on purpose.

You decided he’d be worth the work raincheck. You’d let him fuck you. And it seemed like that’s just what he wanted when his eyes settled on yours and he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked. You were a-okay with abandoning ship for a hot night with Harry. Work could wait. This man before you, flirting with you and watching your lips as you spoke was ripe for the taking. You didn’t want to miss the chance to try him out in the sack.

Just like he said, the taxi stopped at The Ritz-Carlton on Olympic and he took you up to his room. In the taxi on the way to his hotel, he scooped his arm behind your back and pulled you into his side, brushed your hair from your neck, and put his mouth next to your ear, “You sure you want to do this?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Yeah, that happened. That never happens. Not to you. You were the one making men’s breath hitch. But Harry had some kind of natural charm about him that matched your own energy. A panty-dropper. But it helped that he was so goddamn fine with a deep British accent and dazzling eyes.

The room didn’t appear to have been slept in, but that’s probably due to the strict housekeeping staff taking care to clean up behind their guests.

You kicked your heels off near the door and Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front. He kissed your neck first. You were admittedly caught off guard by his energy. He was quite forward and confident.

You leaned your head to the side and smiled when you felt him in your back, poking you with what you knew was going to be a big cock. He was already very turned on.

You turned in his arms to face him and slid your hands up to his shoulders and kept your eyes on his, “I don’t usually do things like this…” you spoke innocently.

Harry tilted his head to the side and smirked. The look on his face said he didn’t believe you, “Me neither.” You certainly didn’t believe him.

You lifted yourself upward on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. You had had enough of the back and forth. It was time to get down to it. Harry’s cock was hard and your panties were wet. That’s all that was necessary at that moment. Talk could wait.

Harry gripped your waist and walked you backward to his bed with his mouth attached to yours. You let go of his shoulders and slid yourself back onto the bed as he crawled after you. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down to you, lips locking together in haste.

Putting your leg over his hip you bucked yourself upward to feel his hard-on under his pants and you moaned at the bulk of him.

“Get your pants off, Harry,” you cooed as you palmed over him. Harry sat back and removed his shirt and there was nothing in you that was disappointed by what you saw. More dark tattoos covering his chest and his arms. His body was masculine and sculpted exactly to your preference. Firm with smooth skin and a smattering of hair at his pecs and under his belly button.

You moved your arms behind your back and unzipped your dress and let it fall down your arms. You were wearing a special bra that was sticky on your breasts, which you’d forgotten about until that moment. It was difficult to remove in one quick go because the sticky inside was super sticky so it stayed put. You sat up and turned away from him as he began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants.

Pulling the bra away from your skin slowly you looked over your shoulder and Harry was looking at you with his brows scrunched in confusion. You laughed and when you’d removed the bra lifted it upward so he could see, “It’s a sticky bra and it’s awkward to take off. Didn’t want you to see it coming off. It’s less magical that way.”

Harry spit out a laugh as he visually inspected the bra and he nodded, “Okay. If you say so,” taking the bra from your hand and tossing it on the bed. Harry was only in black briefs when he put his hands up to cup your jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. He pushed you back into the bed with his lips smoothing against yours and he settled himself in between your legs. You were left in only your nude thong. Harry’s briefs-covered cock was pressed right over your pussy. He was thick. You knew he was something special down there. He rocked down over you and licked into your mouth. His solid arms kept his torso held up while his hips were pressed down over you.

You bent your right leg at the knee and spread a bit for him to access you better and he moaned.

“You’re getting me wet even through your underwear. Need something, Y/n?” His cocky smirk was warranted. You hated a cocky man but Harry had every reason to be. He was delectable.

“I need you, Harry. S’why I’m here right now,” you spoke in your sultriest voice and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry brought his mouth down slowly, his warm lips pecking and licking a cherished path down toward your breasts. He palmed and sucked at them. You arched your back and panted. He wasn’t going easy on your nipples as he pulled each into his mouth and swirled his tongue around your areola. His nips caused you to moan loudly into the room.

He moved his head further down and you knew what was coming. But in all honesty, you hadn’t shaved in a while. You were full-on bush down there. You didn’t expect to be getting laid tonight. You were on a job when you saw Harry at the club. You got all dolled up, shaved your legs, and did what needed to be done. But no more than what was necessary.

When he got to your hips you braced yourself for him to see your pussy in its natural state. He put his fingers into the band at your hips and looked up at you as he slid them down slowly. You craned your neck up to see what his expression was when he finally took you in.

He saw your bush. You saw him pause at your pussy but he continued dragging your panties downward. You held your breath when he put himself back between your legs and lowered his face to your inner thigh, planting a hot kiss very close to the curve of where your ass and your cunt met.

“Can I?” He looked up at you, his mouth parted in lust. You weren’t going to say no to head. If he wanted to get down there with your wild garden of desire and wrap his mouth around your clit you’d let him.

“Yes,” you smiled but felt yourself blush a little at the idea of being munched on while you’re pussy-scaping was nonexistent.

But he didn’t seem to care at all. He put his lips over your mound and went to town. Like all the way into town and back home again, then back to the strip so he could have dinner and seconds. He found all the parts that needed to be found under your pubic hair. You settled yourself back into the pillow and relaxed. Harry was a man who liked pussy clearly. He wasn’t deterred by the bush one bit.

Your clit was being given sufficient attention when he began to use his fingers in your crease, softly stroking you up and down until he placed his middle finger right at your hole. He prodded it in a bit and you looked down at him between your thighs. He had his eyes closed, his tongue lapping at you then you watched as his lips found your clit and he pulled at it, sucking you into his mouth and you gasped. He was good. This man was hot and he was good at giving head?

“Fuck, Harry! Right there…” you moaned your words, needing to let him know to keep up with what he was doing. He was going to get you off fast this way.

Harry moaned into your pussy and opened his eyes when he heard you and he nuzzled in further, shaking his head left to right quickly and slurping your clit just as he inserted a second finger. You felt it go in. Harry’s fingers were long and he was getting the job done nicely.

You arched your back at the distinct feeling of heat traveling from your groin outward. You slid one of your hands down and placed your fingers into his thick hair. Something you’d wanted to do since you first saw him earlier in the day. You just had no idea it would be happening while he was expertly eating you out in his hotel room at the Ritz.

You bucked upward toward him and panted, “I’m gonna come, Harry… please….” Your voice was shaky and your orgasm was beginning to blossom. Harry was making a mess of his face with your arousal as he dug in further, one hand holding you down while his other kept his fingers stroking your walls just like you needed.

The snap fuzzed up your hearing for a moment. Your ears rang as you came in his mouth, your body stiffening and jolting with each stroke of his tongue. You were sure you were speaking but your mouth and your brain didn’t meet up as you quivered under the man who was lapping at your pussy like there was no hair in the way.

You opened your eyes when Harry kissed both sides of your hips and sat back. He looked down at you with a grin as your chest was rising and falling quickly, “Holy shit. That was the fastest I’ve ever come from… that.”

Harry chuckled and got off the bed. He walked toward the dresser and you could see his hard cock pressing against the front of his dark briefs. He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water and brought them to the bed. Pouring a glass for himself and for you. He sat down next to you as you sat up and handed you the glass, which you happily guzzled down. Harry did the same. You hoped he wasn’t washing away the taste of your hairy pussy. That would be embarrassing.

“Sorry. About the lack of trimming. I really didn’t expect to show anyone the goods tonight,” you laughed. It was so ridiculous for you to be apologizing for that. It was natural for most women to have hair on their crotch. Just like it was for men. You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. Maybe it was because Harry was so incredibly attractive.

Harry’s brows pinched together and he frowned, “Really? I mean, I don’t care about the hair, but you weren’t thinking you were gonna laid tonight? Looking like that?”

You shook your head, “No. Truly.”

“Well, you have a beautiful pussy. I doubt anyone would ever kick you out of bed for going au natural. Doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to brush the back of your hand over his cock, “What about you? Do your trim?” You smirked.

Harry laughed through his nose and took your glass, placing his and yours on the side table before covering your hand with his and pressing your palm down on his lengthy cock. He brought his other hand up to you, his fingers at your neck and thumb over your cheek when he leaned in to kiss you.

When he backed away from the kiss he looked down to where he had your palm pressed over him, “Why don’t you check.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief but smiled and took the top band of his underwear in your hands and pulled at it, lowering the material and seeing the smattering of hair at his low stomach turn into a darker, thatch before his cock sprung out. The cock was a total distraction. You had forgotten all about the hair when you saw his large organ standing out.

Harry lifted his hips and helped you pull his underwear down. He was certainly nicely built. That was for sure.

You smiled at him and then looked back down at the masterpiece between his legs and leaned in to kiss the tip. Harry moved back, putting his arms behind him to give you space to worship him.

You heard him inhale a sharp breath when your lips came into contact with the tip of his crown and then you looked up at him, “May I?”

Harry nodded quickly and you stuck your tongue out to lick him up and down. You had a lot of area to cover with his penis but you managed to lick him from base to tip all around. He was very hard in your hand. Heavy and thick. You stuck your tongue softly into the slit at his head and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and his mouth parted.

Just as you wrapped your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue over his frenulum he jolted his hips and gasped, “Wait, god… hold on…” his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you off.

You looked up at him and then sat back, causing his hand to fall away from your neck.

“I’m not going to assume you wanted to have sex, but I kind of wanted to,” he kept his dark eyes on you.

You hated giving blow jobs if you were honest and Harry’s cock was going to cause some damage to your tonsils you could already tell. That monster might not even fit quite well enough for you to really get the job done anyway.

“So, you don’t want a blow job?” You queried, just to be sure.

“I love a good blow job, but…” he looked down and laughed as he shook his head and then set his eyes back on yours with a goofy grin, “this,” he gestured toward his crotch, “tends to take a little training. Not the easiest man to suck off.”

You raised your brows and scoffed, “So, you’re saying that you think your cock is so fat that I’d have trouble taking it down my throat and you’re giving me an easy out and offering to fuck me with that instead of choking me with it?”

Harry barked out a laugh and nodded, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“Thank God, because that thing is quite daunting. Would rather have it in my vagina than my throat, so thank you for that,” you couldn’t believe this man, but he wasn’t wrong. In all honesty, he probably got used to this spiel. It kind of sounded like he’d said it all before.

“So you do want to have sex?” Harry repeated to be sure.

You rolled your eyes and climbed over his thighs, pushing at his chest to bring his back down to the mattress. You straddled his hips and put your unshaven pussy over his cock and then kissed him as your answer. You rolled your hips up and down and Harry grabbed your ass and guided you up and down along his shaft.

There was a lot of girth to rub yourself on with him so your clit was being pressed into on each stroke. Harry moaned into your mouth and pressed you down harder over him as he rocked upward, pressing himself between your slick folds.

“Come on…” he breathed out, “I’ve got a condom,” he said and nudged you up. You stayed in his lap as he leaned over and pulled out a condom from the side table. You found it interesting that he had a condom there being that this was a hotel room. You knew the pattern of men staying in hotels.

Condoms would typically be kept in the luggage or a wallet. Unless the man was expecting company… But you decided to let it go. So what if he was expecting company? Maybe he planned on getting lucky tonight when he went out and thought ahead by putting condoms conveniently in the side table (which is odd for a man to think ahead like that). A woman, now she would think ahead and put condoms in the side table because women think about things like that. Men don’t. Not normally. It’s not a big deal, but it’s also out of character for a man staying in a hotel that he only very recently checked into.

“You okay?” Harry asked you, making you realize you were stuck in your head a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’m totally good,” you nodded feeling a bit like you were missing something important. Like you were being forewarned of something by the tiny revelation you just had.

You took a breath and tried to push the sudden inexplicable feeling you had down. You wanted him to fuck you. Of course, you did. But what was that feeling you were getting? This sense that something was off? You knew to trust your senses. You had a good read on people and something was not quite right. And you saw him twice in one day? In LA of all places? A strange man from out of town? Yeah… something was off.

You put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and frowned, “I’m… sorry…” you pinched your brows together as you slid off of his lap, “I think I should go.”

Part 2

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[stardusttealeaves]

ARCANE DRINK HCs

So I was bored at an ungodly hour of the night so instead of sleeping....I did this.

This was written before season 2 came out. Thought this would just be a fun little ting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jinx - water of the day/ jungle juice

If u don't know water of the day just go look at it rq : here

Yea she does that. It's either that or she makes a cooler amount of jungle juice from random stuff she grabs from the bar and makes that last for a good while.

I don't even think she likes the taste of alcohol that much. Hell I think she airs on the lightweight side. But if she's drinking she's gonna want it to be sweet and taste like juice.

Vander - Whiskey

Cmon, the big guy of the undercity gotta have something that tows the line of sophistication and earthiness. He likes the subtle complexity that it offers. Something to take the edge off after a night of running the bar.

He's not the type to get "carried away" with it but...if he isn't careful he could def chug down a thing of Sir Davis like it didn't cost 90 bucks.

Other than that he's probably gonna keep it cute with a pint of beer on the reg.

Vi - whatever gets her drunk quicker

Cmon....We've seen the season 2 shorts. We know how bad it gets.

Imma be real I wouldn't be surprised if she just got to the point of chugging straight everclear like she does NOT care.

But sure let's give her a normal non angst circumstance. I think she'd develop a taste for whiskey. Ya know as a treat.

I'd like to think Vander gave her her first drink when she was still young, not like a full pour, just a bit for the taste. She hated it at first but over time it grew on her. Now whenever she has it, she's reminded of him.

Cait - Martinis

Cait doesn't drink very often, she's more likely to drink at events her family hosts.

I think she likes to keep it classy with a martini cause it's nice to sip, plus it's a bit stronger so it makes her pace herself. But she's not an olive girly, she's a citrus twist girly. Depending on her mood it's either gonna be orange or lemon.

Mel - That's that me espresso (martini)

Yes I was legally obligated to make that joke.

This would be a fav for her to have when she has an evening to herself. It's creamy, rich, a Lil sweet. It's a nice combination. She'd also have this when she's with Jayce or anyone she considers a close friend. Otherwise she is not bringing this to a function.

Nope at the function she is a pinot grigio haver. It's light, fruity, and keeps her pushing.

Jayce - Beeyah

This dude will have a DAY of being a politician amd immediately hit the fridge for a Modelo and a lime wedge like it's a cold cigarette to ease the pain.

He's like Mr. Boss in that one episode of smiling friends asking the waitress what kinda Lagers they got. But at the same time being very anal about the fact that beers and lagers are not the same thing.

("All lagers are beers, but not all beers are lagers" - Jayce probably)

Bro is one of those guys that care about ipas.

Viktor - Vodkah + mules

No this isn't because he's eastern european.

Ok maybe partially but that's not the point.

First off I don't think his body takes hard  liquor straight up that well, so occasionally he'd have a straight shot of vodka just to feel something. It hurts but not in the usual way ya know.

But in reality if he wants something to enjoy once in a while it's gonna be a classic Moscow Mule, it's not that strong and is nice to sip.

Silco - Scotch

This feels self explanatory like look at him.

Sevika - Whiskey

Similar to Vander she's into Whiskey but she's not in it for the savoring of it. Like in her case she will actively down that sir David and grab another one off the shelf once the first bottles done.

Ekko - dry as a desert

Given the environment that the firefights have curated I don't think he's the type to drink. I wouldn't be surprised if that whole area is dry and honestly good for them.

[lihhelsing]

Part 5 - Catfish Steddie

You can also read it on AO3!

Eddie isn’t sure how many doubles he pulled in the past week, but he’s not too interested in counting, anyway. He just needs to keep himself busy. Just busy enough. 

He’s also trying to stay out of the house as much as he can because he can’t seem to find it in him to face Gareth. Not right now. 

Not when Gareth was fucking right. 

He didn’t say it to be mean, Edie knows it, but in all the time they’ve known each other, nerdy, weird Eddie was never the one to get the attention of guys built like a Greek god and Gareth had been wary of it from the beginning. 

Eddie couldn’t even get himself to tell him about the catfish because, in the end, he managed to get a date with Steve, and what Gareth didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? 

But the joke’s on Eddie because he’s the one who ended up hurt. 

So yeah, maybe he’s been doing that avoidance thing that annoyed Gareth ever since middle school when Eddie would pretend to not be interested in playing with Max Steel anymore just because he had broken Gareth’s favorite figure and couldn’t find a way to tell him. 

Eddie can be a real piece of work sometimes and he knows that all too well. Gareth knows it too and it is beyond Eddie to understand why does he still put up with his shit after so many years, but after some nasty fights where Gareth had to yell at Eddie to believe he fucking likes him and is definitely sticking around and that Eddie needs to drop that shitty way of acting, Eddie prefers not to say anything.

He’s also aware Gareth can tell something is up and that he’s on borrowed time but that’s for future Eddie to worry about. 

The good thing is that the bar keeps him busy. He's always making a drink or another, cleaning something up and when there are no clients, Eddie can just let the music take over. Let his brain swim in the blissfulness of loud, angry music. 

"Can I get a vodka soda?" Eddie is nodding before he even looks at the person, his body moving with the familiarity of the bar work. 

He grabs the vodka with one hand and twists it around just to show off. His other hand is already filling a glass with ice cubes. Then it's alcohol, measured to be sure, soda, and a half lime wedge at the rim of the glass. 

It's as easy as breathing and it feels good to do something that doesn't involve thinking. 

"Here you go," he slides the glass in front of his customer and it's the first time he looks at her. She has short, brown hair and is looking straight at Eddie, not moving to get her drink. 

"Thanks, Eddie."

He frowns for a second. Doesn't remember telling her his name. Doesn't remember seeing her before, but at the same time, her face looks familiar. 

"Did you need anything else?"

Maybe she asked for another drink and Eddie didn't hear. His mind isn't the most reliable lately, hence why he can't quite place where he knows her from. Maybe she's a regular at the bar and Eddie has just forgotten about it? 

"When's your break?" she asks and oh. Oh, no. Can't she tell Eddie would prefer to suck face with any one of the other patrons that aren't a woman? 

"Sorry. I don't, uh, mess around with paying customers," he says even though he followed a few cute boys out through the back door for sloppy hand-jobs and messy kisses. 

Her frown deepens and Eddie thinks maybe he offended her. He tried letting her down easy but maybe-

"Uh, first of all, gross. Second of all, I just want to talk. Please."

Something isn't adding up. "Do I know you?"

She offers her hand as if she's in an indie movie and she's the edgy main character. Eddie doesn't take it but it doesn't seem to bother her. 

"I thought you knew. I'm Robin Buckley. Steve's roommate."

Oh, fuck. 

x

Eddie feels like he needs a cigarette even though he hasn't smoked in ages. He tends to stay with just weed for most of the time, but this situation right now is so fucked up it calls for one. 

He wonders if he should tell her he's going to 7/11 to get one but he realizes he's just stalling. He doesn't particularly want to hear what she has to say but he couldn't find it in himself to say no. 

Steve tried calling a few times but he gave up once it was clear Eddie wasn't picking up the phone. He wonders if Steve sent her. 

"I have 15 minutes and I was really counting on a nap during my break so make this quick," his voice comes out harsher than usual and Eddie's not mad about it. Maybe if he can put on a hard front she and Steve will leave him alone. 

Eddie's brain has been trying to trick him into believing Steve really didn't have anything to do with the catfish thing, but it just doesn't add up. He spent way too many nights awake thinking about Steve laughing at his expense, at how dumb he was for falling for the thing not once but twice. 

He just wants to move on, forget all about Steve and about how stupid he was to fall for his game. 

"You're bitchier than I remember," she shakes her head as if she can't believe it and Eddie frowns again. He really doesn't remember her. "Guess you're just not that bitchy when it comes to pretty boys, huh."

It takes a second for Eddie's brain to get the message but then…

"You."

She nods and even though she sounds playful as if all of this is nothing more than a joke her face is pinched up. 

"Guilty. Sorry about that, by the way."

Now Eddie is sure Steve sent her and he really doesn't want to hear whatever excuse he has for this. He doesn't even understand what's their goal here. Do they want Eddie to forgive them just so they can feel better about themselves?

"Tell Steve I don't need any apologies. You both can just forget it and leave me alone."

He hopes he doesn't sound too pathetic because he sure feels like it. But Robin doesn't move, she just blinks at him. 

"Steve doesn't know I'm here."

Eddie huffs out a breath. He's getting annoyed at this conversation really fast. 

"Will you just say what it is that you want to say and leave me alone, then? I really need a nap."

"Steve doesn't know I'm here and he didn't know I was, uh, using his face to-"

"Catfish people."

"Is it considered catfishing if I had no intention of dating anyone?"

Eddie frowns. What the fuck is wrong with this girl? 

"Yes."

She closes her eyes and presses her hands to her face. "Shit. I'm fucking this up even more, aren't I? I'm not good at this."

Eddie is honestly so fucking done with her. He's confused and honestly a little angry at this person he doesn't know but thought it was ok to mess with his life for apparently no good reason. 

"Well, I'm gonna go."

Eddie pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and is walking back to the bar when she calls for him. 

"Wait. Please. I'm sorry… I have this tendency to joke around whenever I'm feeling bad or uncomfortable. It's just a shitty defense mechanism that I kind of can't control."

He honestly wants to tell her to fuck off but at the same time… He gets it. He is the same, after all, and Gareth would probably call him out on his bullshit if he ever complained about it. He can hear what she has to say, at least. 

"Ok. Go on, but I desperately need a Slurpee and you're buying."

Slurpees beat cigarettes every day of the week, no doubt. 

x

Robin's story was… Kind of crazy if Eddie was being honest. He was still confused about some things because how the hell did her professor support that idea? 

"I knew it was a crazy thing I was doing. I thought it would be harmless but once I realized it wasn't it was a little too late to back down and he was all over my case."

Eddie clicks his tongue. "You should report him, you know."

She looks completely terrified. "I thought about it but it's probably going to spill all over me."

Eddie shrugged. "Maybe you deserve it."

Robin worried her lower lip in between her teeth. "Maybe I do."

"I'm not saying that to be an asshole, it's just the way things are. When I fuck up at work I have to deal with the consequences and it fucking sucks so maybe you just need to deal with yours. It's not going to be the end of the world."

Robin sighs loudly. She's clutching her blue Slurpee as if her life depends on it and Eddie wants to warn her that it's going to melt. They are both sitting on a bench outside the store and Eddie is probably already running late to get back to his shift but he thinks he needs to be here right now. 

Robin's explanation was not what he was expecting. She swore Steve had absolutely nothing to do with that and proceeded to tell him Steve wasn't even speaking to her anymore.

He still can't wrap his head around the whys. Robin doesn't seem like a psychopath so it makes no sense that she would do something like this. It's an asshole move, especially given she and Steve weren't even friends. But Eddie had been an asshole before. He has fucked up with people he loves and he doesn't think that makes him a bad person.

He doesn't think it makes Robin a bad person. She at least looks really ashamed. 

"Are you going to throw that Slurpee at me?" Robin asks when the silence gets too long. Eddie looks at her and she's joking. Or at least he thinks she is. 

"Would it make you feel better if I did?"

"Honestly? Maybe. I can deal with screaming and fighting and saying dumb shit to each other. It's harder when all he gives me is silence and blank stares. It's like I'm not even there anymore."

Yeah, Eddie has been there. It fucking sucks. 

"Sorry," she says. "I didn't come here to make you feel bad for me. I know I fucked up and you have no obligation in forgiving me but I thought you should know what happened. Steve…"

Eddie has no idea if he can afford thinking about Steve right now. He misses the hell out of him and if he's being honest he misses Robin, too. 

"I know. He didn't know about any of that but I think maybe… Maybe he won't want to hear from me after I shut him out, you know? Maybe he'll be better off forgetting this whole thing."

Robin finally drinks her Slurpee. It's probably all water now, Eddie thinks. She looks at him and there's a glint in her eyes. 

"I think I've never seen him that happy. When he was talking to you, I mean. He was always glued to his phone, a dumb smile on his face. It was kind of adorable, if you like cute puppies."

Eddie did have a soft spot for puppies. 

"It doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, I don't think he will want to hear from me. I think I offended him, too."

"But would you want to? Talk to him again?"

He thinks for a second but he nods before his brain even registers the question. There's this ache in his chest that tells him he's probably going to miss Steve forever if he never talk to him again. 

"Ok, good. Because I might have a plan."

Previous | Next

[64yrsold]

ACHES 3. bitten

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (2)

I did have his number, my phone opening to the contact page of “Matthew (HOT)” when I unlocked it. I cringed, realizing he probably watched me type that in there. 

I had one unread message from Jenna, letting me know that Matty had forgotten his credit card at the bar. I texted her to let her know that I would pick it up this afternoon, and sighed. This was incredibly embarrassing. From his bitten and scratched chest, I could assume what we had been up to last night.

I grumbled, hopping into my jeans and putting on my coat. I brushed through my hair with my fingers, swinging my purse over my shoulder and exiting the hotel room. I walked to the elevator, humming to myself as I opened my phone to find the nearest coffee shop.

“What the fuck?” I muttered, realizing the hotel I was in was nearly a two-hour walk from the bar I had met Matty. Did we walk here? God, I hope he didn’t drive me here.

‘I want to show you another bar,’ he had said last night. A flash of a memory, a silver flask and an orange streetlamp. A dark park, spruce trees towering towards the white circle of the moon.

I sighed, the elevator doors opening into the lobby. I called a cab.

I realized I was nauseous when I inhaled the driver’s eye-watering cologne, and popped a mint to distract myself. I watched the lazy city roll past, everything brown and tired. I looked back at my shoes, swallowing hard as the driver attempted to hit every pothole he saw. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to conjure some sort of memory from yesterday. I could only see that orange streetlamp, burning blue in the center of my vision when I closed my eyes.

‘Cold?’ his voice echoed, and the corner of his jaw came to me. A shuffling sound, his jacket slipping off his shoulders. Warmth, heaviness.

I chewed my bottom lip, hoping he was sweet.

“Hi Jenna,” I smiled, and she gave me a nod. 

“How was he?” she raised an eyebrow, turning his credit card in her hands. I grabbed it from between her fingers, frowning.

“What do you mean?” I shoved the card in my purse, sitting on a sticky barstool.

“So this is the one you shut up about,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing a few lemons.

“You hate it when I tell you about my boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” she snorted, cutting a lemon into perfect wedges. The citrus smell stung in the back of my throat.

“Alright,” I grumbled, really meaning shut up, “He was nice.”

“Mm,” she hummed, eyes down.

“That’s it.”

She set her knife down, holding her hands in front of her chest. She slowly drew them away from each other, waiting for me to tell her to stop. To say how big.

I just squinted at her.

“Did I start too big?” she dropped her hands, now looking at me with her all-seeing eyes. She rarely made eye contact, but when she did, I suspected she could see into every corner of my mind. If you can hear this, blink twice, I would often think. 

“Sorry,” I shrugged, dropping my chin into my palm. I looked at the lemon she stroked with her thumb.

“You can’t remember,” she gasped, a smile creeping onto her face.

I mustered the energy to look surprised, but ended up sighing.

“Oh God, did he drug you?” she blinked, then shook her head, “No, honestly, you were wasted before you had that whiskey.”

“If I was wasted,” I whispered, “Why did you serve me?”

“I like to let you experience the consequences of your actions,” Jenna smirked, passing me a bundle of limes, a knife, and a cutting board, “Can you be useful here?”

“Yes boss,” I sliced a lime in half, “And I don’t think he drugged me.”

“Good,” she wiggled her knife in front of my face, “This has cut more than citrus fruit, you know.”

“He was sweet, I think,” I thought back to his rough hands tucking me in, to him carrying me into bed. “Fuck, I wish I could remember.”

“You guys were heading to another bar, weren’t you?” 

“I thought so too,” I nodded, “But I keep seeing this park, and I can’t remember a second bar.”

“A park?” Jenna frowned, concerned, “Where did you wake up?”

“A hotel,” I said, shaking my head.

“Not your place?” Jenna didn’t seem surprised, going back to slicing lemons. “You live five minutes from here.”

I just shrugged, sighing. “I guess I’ll have to ask him what happened.”

“What if he can’t remember either?”

“What if he remembers everything?”

We both stared at our hands, stumped. 

“You kiss him?” Jenna broke the silence, grabbing my pile of sliced limes.

“I woke up in a hotel with him,” I stated, then bit my cheek, “But we did wake up in a chair.”

“Both of you?”

“Yeah, I was on his lap. It was actually sort of comfortable.”

Jenna just grunted, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I stood, one hand on the bar, “We’re going on a date tonight.”

“Really?” Jenna gave me her icy stare again.

“He planned it. I just said okay.”

“Well,” Jenna put a hand on her hip, “He’s rich.”

“You think?”

She nodded, “Maybe hold on to that credit card.”

-> next (4)

[thoseboysinblue]

Nashville

Christian Pulisic x reader

You meet Christian on a night out in Nashville.

Word count: 5800+

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, fluff, swearing, angst

Requested: No

"See something you like, CP?" Weston drawls as he follows Christian's gaze towards you and your friends. He shrugs his shoulders never taking his eyes off of you as he takes a pull off of his beer, watching you from the VIP area he's currently sitting in.

"They look fun" Wes chuckles as he also watches you and your friends dance along to the live music created by a country cover band. Your friend Anna grabs the attention of the one of the guitarist and says something to him before turning to you and relaying the message.

Christian watches you intently as you and your friend Amelia snake your way through the crowd to the bar. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he sees you making your way back towards the stage, two seltzers tucked under your arm, a drink in a plastic cup dangling between your teeth and three shots in your hands while your friend balance four more shots in hers.

"Goddamn, this just got interesting" Wes laughs again towards him, noticing the smile on Christian's face as he nods. "So the short one that might have a drinking problem is yours, I'm going for the tall one that's flirting with the band," he smiles at him giving him a nudge, "we'll let the others fight it out over the last one."

You make it to the stage, passing the shots off to Anna. Amelia hands the four shots she has to the band while you sit your vodka and sprite and the two seltzers on the edge of the stage. Anna shouts something to the lead singer as she passes each of you one of the shots she's holding. You can feel eyes burning into you as you turn around slightly, your eyes locking with a pair of dark brown ones.

You smirk at him over the top of your shot glass before you throw it back, the whiskey burning your throat as it goes down. You shake your head in an attempt to clear the taste as you reach for your drink. Taking a long sip from it, grabbing the lime from the side and squeezing it into your drink before dropping the wedge in and pushing it to the bottom with the straw.

The band starts playing your requested song, a countrified version of Genuwine's "Pony". You always request it from this particular band, it's not on their regular set list, but for four shots of Jack Daniel's they will play it and it's always a hit with the crowd, no one can resist dancing to it.

"Fuck yeah," Weston shouts as he makes his way to the stage, straight towards his intended target, your friend Anna. He wraps his arms around her from behind, and loving the attention, she instantly pushes against him with her hips, grinding into him. You and Amelia share a knowing look, she always garners the attention of men when you are out, she exudes chaotic energy and they feed off of it.

You continue dancing, spinning around to see Christian standing about a foot from you, Tim wandering over to try his luck with Amelia. You arch an eyebrow at him as he holds your gaze, he offers you a smirk but doesn't make a move to get closer so you shrug your shoulders and spin back around, shaking your ass and circling your hips to the rhythm of the song, if he's not going to dance with you, you're at least going to give him a good show.

Tyler wanders over and nudges him, nodding in your direction but he keeps his feet firmly planted to the sticky floor of the bar. "Is your friend gonna dance with her or just stare at her all night," Anna shouts to Weston causing him to cackle. "He's a shy one," he shouts back. "Well so is she," she echoes to him, "bet a shot on which one of them makes the first move?" he arches an eyebrow, "deal" she holds out her hand, "but if she gets him to dance he's done for, I've seen it happen too many times," she winks.

Just then someone knocks into you, causing you to lose your balance and take several steps backwards, a pair of hands grabbing your hips to steady you. Your eyes instantly lock onto the tattooed arm that's around your waist as you turn around.

"Sorry" you say over the music. "No problem, wasn't your fault anyways," he says back taking a sip of his beer. "I'm Tyler, this is Christian," Tyler says causing you to break your gaze as you turn to him to shake his outstretched hand, Christian's hands still on your hips. "Nice to meet you, I'm good now," you smile at him when he realizes he's still holding on to you, he drops his hands and his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Interesting song choice," he smirks at you, "your request?"

You nod, "it usually gets the crowd going, most people dance to it," you smirk back at him, "but clearly not everyone."

"I'm not much of a dancer," he offers you a shy smile. "Bet I could make you look good," you smile back at him but he still doesn't budge.

"Ok, well, if you're not gonna dance, I'm going back to my friends," you say, turning to join the rest of the group.

"You're a fucking idiot," Tyler glares at Christian, clearly unimpressed by his lack of enthusiasm for dancing with you, but he just shrugs. "You know I don't just hop onto the dance floor with anyone, man," he says back, watching as your dance alone, clearly unbothered.

The band returns to their normal set list and Wes and Tim invite you and your friends to join them in their VIP booth out on the rooftop. You take a seat on one of the couches near Christian, but Tyler strikes up a conversation with you, the two of you chatting easily, your friends talking to the rest of the group.

Weston returns with a tray of shots that he passes around to the group, everyone holding them up and tapping them to one another's in a cheers before throwing them back. "Fuck, what the fuck was that," Christian makes a gagging sound. "Fireball" you also gag next to him, "Jesus Christ, he's not trustworthy with shot choices," you laugh next to Tyler as he shakes his head furiously.

"So do you guys live here?" Tyler asks, as Christian leans in, clearly wanting to hear your answer. "Not in Nashville, no, but we all live not too far from here."

"So is this like a girls weekend or what?" he continues making conversation with you, hoping Christian will eventually step in. "Kind of, we were college roommates, we try to get together every couple of months, we always say we are going to go somewhere else, but then end up here," you smile back at him.

You all continue talking, Christian beginning to relax a little more as he scoots closer to you so that Weston can sit down beside him, Anna plopping down in his lap. "Christian, right?" she says looking him up and down as he nods under her incredulous stare. "You always this quiet?" she laughs and you look to Amelia for help, knowing where this line of questioning is going.

"He's shy unless he's..." Weston starts but Christian quickly elbows him and gives him a warning glare. "So what are y'all in town for?" Anna continues, breezing right over the fact that Christian just cut Wes off from saying something. "Work" Christian answers her as the other guys chuckle. "Big group of y'all for a work trip," she says absentmindedly, "is there a conference going on or something?"

"Something like that," Tyler offers trying to be helpful.

"So, are you gonna dance with y/n or are you just going to stare at her all night?" Anna fixes her gaze back on Christian, Weston once again letting out a laugh. "Anna," Amelia shouts, "let's go dance," she says pulling her up and throwing a knowing look towards you.

They leave the booth, Weston and Tim following them as she turns to look at you, "thank you," you mouth towards her and she nods and throws you a wink.

Christian leans over and asks you a couple of questions about the band and you tell him other songs you know they will play for shots or tips, along with a few things that are on their regular set list. "So are you a groupie?" he asks, "you seem to know them pretty well."

"No, but they play here a lot, and like I said, we always seem to end up here," you smile at him. "They play a lot of country," he says as you nod. "We are in Nashville," you chuckle at him.

Just as they start playing a song by Morgan Wallen you stand up, "I'm going to dance, you coming?" you offer your hand to him. "I told you I'm not much of a dancer," he smiles at you a bit shyly. "Just one song, if you're not having fun you can come back over here and be boring."

He gives in and stands up, taking your hand as you pull him towards the floor.

"You owe me a shot," Anna laughs into Weston's ear when she sees you pulling Christian behind you to the dance floor.

You dance towards your friends laughing and smiling with them as Christian stands nervously behind you. You turn to face him and wrap your arms around his neck while he settle his hands over your hips. "It's a country bar, Christian, loosen up and have some fun," you say as you start swaying with him to the music. "This music isn't really grinding music, so it's pretty easy to get into," you eventually turn around and press your back to his chest dancing and singing along to with the band as you feel him relax behind you and start to sing along as well, his hands settling over your hips.

"See, this isn't so bad," you smile back at him, "told you I could make you look good."

"I see what you mean by him being done for," Wes says into Anna's ear, "he's smitten."

"Told you" she winks at him.

"Really, I've never seen him actually look like he was having fun dancing," he chuckles.

More country songs play as Christian spins you and dips you and the two of you sing to one another almost as if no one else is in the bar except for you.

"I need another drink," you stand on your tip toes to speak into his ear. He nods and shows you his empty beer bottle as you turn to your friends. "We're going to the bar, want another" you tilt your head towards them as they nod, "Boys?" you look at Weston and Tim who also nod at you.

You grab the bartenders attention, Christian standing behind you with one hand over your hip since there was only room for one at the bar. You order beers for the guys and another round of drinks for you and your friends, also ordering two buckets of beers to be sent to the VIP booth for the rest of the guys that are still sitting up there.

"I'll get it," Christian leans down to speak into your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. "Nah, I already put it on my tab," you smile back at him, "you can get the next round."

"You want another shot, definitely not fireball," you laugh.

"Yeah, why not, we've got tomorrow off anyways."

You order two lemon drop shots, something that goes down a lot easier than either of the whiskey shots you've had tonight.

You and Christian gather up your drinks, heading back towards the group that is still dancing. He seems much more relaxed, wrapping his arms around your waist as you start dancing again.

"Thank goodness you decided to dance with me instead of staring at me like a creeper all night," you grin at him.

"So you noticed?" he answers dropping his head against your shoulder in embarrassment as you nod.

"Those two are straight chaos, by the way," you say gesturing towards Weston and Anna. "Don't I fucking know it," he chuckles back at you.

"Where are you guys staying?" he asks you as he spins you around a couple of times, showing off the fact that he's really not a bad dancer.

"We've rented a condo about two blocks from here for the weekend, figured it was worth it to be within walking distance," you smile as the band starts playing something a bit slower and he pulls you into him.

The tension between you is palpable but you aren't one to make out in public and you get the feeling he's not either.

"You want to get out of here?" you ask him, chewing on the inside of your lip and hoping that you aren't overstepping.

"Absolutely," he says giving you a squeeze with the arms he has wrapped around your waist.

"I'm gonna go close my tab," you say to him as he nods.

You lean over to tell Amelia that you and Christian are going back to the condo as you walk past her and she nods and kisses you on the cheek. "Have fun," she winks as you shake your head at her.

Christian meets you back at the bar while you are settling up your tab and follows you as you make your way outside.

He links his fingers through yours as you make the short walk back to the condo. "This place is nice," he says as you enter the code into the keypad and open the door.

"Yeah, it's more space than we need but we each have our own rooms and there is a hot tub on the back patio..." your words trail off as the door shuts behind you and you are met with a pair of very hungry eyes.

He presses your back against the door as one hand slides to your waist while the other makes its way to your jaw, tilting your face up towards his. He licks his lips as he stops millimeters from your face, his eyes dancing over your features looking for any sign of resistance. When he doesn't find anything that tells him you don't want him to kiss you, he presses his lips to yours. He kisses you gently, his lips slotting perfectly over yours.

A flicker of a smile dances across his lips as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him back into you. This kiss is much needier, his tongue dipping into your mouth, groaning as you swirl your tongue swirls around his. He tastes like whiskey and beer and something else you can't quite put your finger on, but the way his tongue expertly explores your mouth makes you wonder what else it might be good for.

You both pull away from the kiss, breathless and he follows closely behind you when you make your way into the kitchen area. "We have beer, seltzers, liquor, and Jell-O shots," you say opening the fridge.

"Jell-O shots?" he arches an eyebrow at you. "Yep," you say as you pull out several. You slide them across the island towards him before you pull out a few snack options as well, putting a pan of pizza rolls into the oven, knowing your friends will want them when they get back.

You hop up on the counter and Christian stands between your legs as you pick up a shot and hand it to him. "Just a warning, you can't taste the vodka in these, and that makes them lethal" you grin as you tap the plastic cup with your shot in it to his.

"Um, how do I get this out of here?" he asks as he looks at the jello congealed in the small plastic cup.

"With your tongue" you smirk at him, swirling your tongue around the inside of your cup and swallowing the shot down easily.

"Or you can squeeze the sides of the cup and loosen it if you want to be less adventurous," you arch an eyebrow at him.

You watch as he swirls his tongue around in the cup, mimicking what you'd just shown him. You really wish you could clamp your legs together right now because watching him take that shot definitely sent a searing heat to your core.

As soon as he sits the plastic cup down he crashes his lips to yours again, your heated kiss is quickly interrupted though when you hear the door to the condo open "hope y'all have your clothes on," you hear Anna shout as she bursts into the kitchen, followed closely by the rest of the group.

Christian drops his head against your shoulder as you look up and roll your eyes at your friend. "When we mentioned having Jell-O shots here, they all wanted to move the party," she shrugs her shoulders at you.

"Oh, I see you've already shown him how to tilt and swallow," she winks at you. "Excuse me, what?" Weston says as he moves to stand beside her. "Tilt and swallow, the only way to take a Jell-O shot," she grins, "show them, y/n, you're the best at it."

You pull another shot off of the counter and demonstrate for them just as you'd done a few minutes ago for Christian. "Jesus Christ," Wes mumbles.

Christian also grabs another one and takes it, using the technique you'd shown him. "Oh, he's good with his tongue," Anna chuckles, "lucky bitch," she smirks at you and you just shake your head.

Before you know it, shots are being taken around the kitchen, snacks are being eaten, music is playing, and a few of the guys are sitting on the edge of the hot tub with their legs dangling in the water. You escape to your room deciding you really want to change into something comfortable and escape the jeans you're wearing.

You make your way into your en-suite bathroom and pull on some shorts and a bralette before realizing you left your shirt laying on your bed. "Shit" you gasp when you walk out of the bathroom, finding Christian sitting on your bed.

"Sorry, I was looking for a bathroom, and I uh" he stammers trying his best not stare at your tits since they are only barely covered by the sheer lace bralette you are wearing.

You chuckle and grab your shirt from beside him, pulling it over your head, "better?" you ask.

"Yes and no," he grins back at you pulling you to stand between his legs. You dip your head and press your lips against his and just as you do the door to your room flings open. "Found them," Weston shouts, "but I don't think they wanted me to," he chuckles closing the door back.

"My god, our friends are ridiculous" he says pressing another kiss to your lips as he stands up. He makes his way into the bathroom and you debate if you should wait on him in your room, but you ultimately decide to go ahead and join the others.

"That was quick," Wes chuckles when you flip him off. Christian emerges from your room a few minutes later and sits down on the couch beside you. A drinking game ensues as you all spill one secret after another in a game of never have I ever. You notice that Amelia and Tim seem to have sneaked away from the crowd and you lean over to whisper your suspicions in Christian's ear as he nods and turns to whisper something back to you, lightly kissing your neck in the process.

Tyler grins at you with an "I saw that" look and you just smile back at him playfully.

Everyone heads outside to sit on the patio for a while and you make your way into the kitchen. You already told them they are welcome to stay since you actually had more beds than you need and plenty of space if they didn't want to take an Uber back to the hotel they were supposed to be in, so you are expecting everyone to crash here most likely.

You clean up a few things and put anything that needs to be refrigerated back into the fridge. As you are bent over putting things away, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you as you stand up. "Do you mind if I stay with you?" Christian whispers against your neck, feeling you shudder against him.

"No, not at all," you whisper back to him turning to kiss him softly. You stand there kissing for a few moments, happy to not be interrupted for once.

"Come on," you say as you pull him towards your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you.

"You aren't drunk are you?" he asks as he pulls you against him, "no, are you?" you respond and he shakes his head.

He dips his head to capture your lips in a fiery kiss, knowing you won't be walked in on again. You walk backwards until your knees hit the back of the bed causing you to sit down and start inching your way towards the head of the bed. Christian follows you, his lips attaching to your neck, jaw, collar bones, anything he can get them on as he lifts your shirt over your head.

He dips his head, grazing his teeth over one of your covered nipples pulling a quiet gasp from you before sliding his hand under your bralette and palming your other breast. He slips the thin lace covering up and over your head, tossing it across the room.

He pulls his own shirt over his head and you make an ill attempt to cover yourself with your hands, suddenly feeling self conscious about yourself when faced with his impeccably toned body.

Jesus, what does this man do for a living? you think to yourself.

He confidently moves your hands from your body, "you're gorgeous, let me see you," he whispers against your lips before kissing you softly. He moves his way back down your body, placing slow open mouthed kisses along the way until he reaches them waistband of your shorts.

He glances up to you as you slide your hands down your body and into the top of your shorts, lifting your hips as he pulls the shorts and your underwear down your legs.

You sit up quickly, moving to unbutton his shorts and push them from his waist along with with his boxers, his hardened cock springs free as he settles himself between your legs when you fall back onto the pillows, kicking the rest of his clothes off the end of the bed.

He glides his hand down your body, cupping your pussy, "I want you so bad" he whispers against your neck pressing his hardened length into your leg as he dips one finger into your entrance. "So fucking wet for me, y/n" he groans, hissing as you wrap your fingers around his cock. It's thick and heavy in your hand as you grip him, moving your hand up and down slowly as he involuntarily thrusts into your hand.

"Will you be able to get off from my cock, or do you need me to go down on you?" he asks, placing sloppy kisses over your chest and sliding another finger into you, noticing the way your back arches and you clench around them when his thumb brushes over your clit.

"Yes," a breathy moan escapes from you as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. He chuckles, "that didn't answer my question, y/n, which one do you want, my tongue or my cock?"

"Cock, definitely cock," you moan as he continues working his fingers into you. You let out a whimper when he withdraws them and slips them into his mouth, humming at the taste. "Maybe I should go down on you, you taste fucking amazing," he groans almost as if he is pained by the decision.

You waste no time as you line him up with your entrance, "please, I need you inside of me, Christian."

He pushes into you, just barely with the tip before withdrawing, sliding the head of his cock, now covered in your juices, over your clit before returning to tease at your entrance again.

"This what you want, y/n? Hmm? You want this cock in you?" he says with a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, please," you lift your hips just barely, trying to pull him into you further.

"I think you can do better than that," he grins, once again rubbing over your clit with his tip, "beg me, tell me how bad you want it."

Your eyes snap to his in a silent stare off. You're not usually one to beg for anything, but this man, this man has some kind of unexplainable hold over you and you realize you will do anything to feel him.

"Christian, please, please fuck me, I want to feel you inside of me, please fill me up, I want to feel every inch of you," you trail off, breathless, panting, begging him for more.

"Look at you begging me to fuck you," he smirks leaning down to press a heavy kiss to your lips, "ok, y/n, I'll fuck you," he groans as he slips into you just another inch or so, feeling you contract around him.

"Take a deep breath for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he pushes into you fully causing you to let out a gasp at the delightfully painful stretch.

"Fuck" he moans, "you feel good, taking all of me like a good girl."

Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his words. You never knew you had a praise kink until just now, but hearing him call you a good girl is driving you mad.

You pull one leg up over his hip while he snakes his forearm under your other leg, driving himself even further into you as he starts to move.

He watches as he slides in and out of you, watching where your bodies meet and feeling you clench around him.

"God you're amazing" he grunts out as he leans down to flick his tongue over your nipple. He pulls your fingers into his mouth before grabbing your wrist and moving your hand down your body.

Your back arches when you make contact with your clit, "that feel good," he pants out.

"Yes, so so good Christian, keep going, please don't stop," you beg as he grazes over your g-spot with his cock.

He lets out a moan watching the scene in front of him, you toying with your clit, him slipping in and out of you, his cock glistening with your wetness, the view nearly causing him to cum on the spot.

He fights off the urge to cum with everything that he has, slowing his pace slightly and giving you a few slow and deep thrusts. You let out a moan and feel yourself clench around him.

"Fuck, y/n, if you keep doing that I'm gonna explode," he groans.

"It's not like I can really control it, you know," you pant out.

He lets out a chuckle, burying himself fully inside of you, his hips flush against yours as he kisses you deeply.

You clench around him again, this time on purpose, silently begging him to start moving again.

"I know you did that one on purpose," he says as he nips against your neck.

"You want me to start moving again, huh? Need to feel me pounding into you, yeah?" a cocky smirk playing on his lips as you nod and lift your hips.

He starts moving again as you resume circling your fingers over your clit. Your head thrown back against the pillows as he picks up the pace chasing his own high.

He slides his hand around the back of your head, "lift your head up, y/n, look at us, look at how wet you are for me, look at how I'm pounding into you, look at you taking every inch of me," he grunts out between a few strangled moans.

"Fuck, please tell me you're close, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold off," he whimpers.

"Yes, I'm close, so close," you breathe out, feeling your orgasm building.

"Cum for me, y/n, please cum for me," he moans.

"Now who's begging," you grin, but you are cut short when a particularly deep thrust sends you toppling over the edge. Your eyes slam shut as your vision blurs, white spots dotting it when your back arches off of the bed and you come undone around him.

Your body shudders as he pulls out of you, pumping himself a couple of times with his hand and spilling all over your abdomen with a quiet moan of your name into your neck.

He slides his hand over your hip, giving you and appreciative squeeze as you both work to steady your breathing while he places a few lazy kisses over your neck and jaw.

Your hands drag delicately over his back, feeling the muscles ripple under your finger tips when he shivers slightly.

He presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes before kissing you softly. As he moves to get out of bed, he leans down and flicks his tongue over your nipple, causing you to squirm and let out a little squeal. He chuckles to himself as he disappears into the bathroom looking for something to use to clean you up.

Your eyes dance over his body as he leaves the room, the well defined muscles on his back and ass fully on show.

He quickly returns with a towel, cleaning you up a little before you grab a T-shirt from the floor and head to the bathroom to finish properly wiping yourself down.

You throw the shirt over your head, realizing it's his when it hits the tops of your thighs. When you exit the bathroom, he's back in the bed, his boxers pulled back on as he waits for you. He eyes you up and down in his shirt, thinking to himself how good it looks on you as you slide into bed next to him.

"So, I probably should've done this before," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ear, "but, I'm in town for a few more days and I'd love to take you to dinner, or coffee, or whatever you want to do before I leave."

"Look, I don't usually sleep with guys I just met, Christian, but you don't have to take me on a date out of some weird obligation," you smile at him, bringing your hand up to graze over the stubble on his jaw.

"It's not out of obligation, I swear, I wanted to ask before we slept together, but now I definitely want to see you again," he offers you a kind smile.

"Ok" you answer him quietly.

"Ok?" he questions and grins when you nod and he places a kiss on your forehead.

"So what do you do for a living?" you ask him, not really sleepy and in the mood to get to know him a little better.

"Um, I play soccer," he gives you a sheepish smile.

"That's a hobby, what do you do for like work?" you press him a little further.

"I'm a professional soccer player, y/n, or football depending on where you're from, I play for a professional club in England, and I'm here right now with the US national team, the other guys, they all play too," he says as he watches the blood practically drain from your face.

"You're a professional athlete?!? Jesus Christ, Christian, you could've said something," you search his face, thinking maybe he's messing with you, but you can tell he's serious by his expression.

"I mean, it didn't really come up I guess, and does it matter?" he questions you, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans your stunned expression.

"No, I guess it doesn't matter, but I might have thought differently about agreeing to a date," you let out a sigh.

"Why is that?" he asks with a puzzled look on his face.

"I don't know, the thought of going out with you is a little scarier I guess," you answer him quietly.

"Look, you don't have to go out with me if you don't want to, I really want you to, but I get it if you don't," he smiles sympathetically, "but it is really nice to meet someone who isn't hunting me down for my name, so I'm hoping you don't change your mind."

"So you're like famous? I'm sorry, I don't follow sports much, so I had no idea, I hope that's not insulting," you say, now questioning how you could've missed it.

"I mean, yeah, I guess I'm kind of famous, but obviously not that famous if you didn't recognize me," he chuckles.

"Where's your phone?" he asks, sliding his hand up and down your arm trying to comfort you.

You reach to the bedside table, opening your phone to the home screen and handing it to him.

He puts his number in and sends himself a quick text so that he will have your number, saving himself as CP⚽️ while you watch.

"Really, that's how you're going to put yourself into my phone?" you roll your eyes playfully.

"Just don't want you to be confused about who I am when I text you" he grins back at you.

He opens your Instagram app, scrolling through a few pictures on your profile before pulling up his own profile. "This is me." he says, handing the phone back to you noticing your eyes widen at the number of followers before you scroll through some of his pictures and view his stories from earlier in the night, including one where you could see yourself dancing in the background.

You smile at your phone, liking the story before closing your phone and putting it back on the bedside table.

"What no follow?" he chuckles pulling you to face him again.

"Nope." you grin at him.

"Really, though, I want to take you out, please at least think about it," he says as he cups his hand over your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"I'll think about it," you lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.

A short while later, Christian was snoring quietly beside you after asking you about what you did for work and where you live.

You lay there staring at him, wondering how in the hell you'd just slept with him without knowing who he was. Finally after what feels like forever, you drift off to sleep, his arm thrown over your waist pulling you closer to him.

Tag list:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14

[sloppysequinz]

Baby’s first house party, part 2

Part 1 can be found here

The poll in part 1 landed on shots, so here we go.

Your new friend pulls you towards the kitchen, where you hear a chant growing: “Shots! Shots! Shots!” Someone is passing around tiny versions of your red solo cup and someone else is wielding a bottle, filling up each little plastic cup with clear alcohol. Everyone seems to be clamoring to grab lime wedges off the kitchen counter. It’s a confusing scene, and your powers of deduction are a little fuzzy from two double vodka and sprites.

“Have you done shots before?” The woman asks you, grabbing two tiny cups from a passing stack and handing one to you. You shake your head. She giggles bounces on the balls of her feet, which makes her soft body jiggle slightly. You notice her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle. You blush too.

“That’s what I thought!! Ok so these are shot glasses, obvi, I mean they’re plastic so they’re not glasses but you know what I mean.” She laughs again. “The way you want to do this is to tilt your head up and open the back of your throat. You’re basically gonna throw the booze in your mouth, but you want it in your mouth for as little time as possible. Here, like this.” She tilts her head back in demonstration.

You try to follow her lead, putting your chin up. She smiles and reaches towards you to gently slide her fingers up your neck to your exposed chin. “Further,” she commands, pressing your chin back. You obey until your head feels completely perpendicular to your neck. “Good.” Her tone is almost purring. She doesn’t take your hand off your chin. “Open your mouth.” You blush, hard, and start to stutter something, but in the end all you can do is obey. You peek at her out of the corner of your upturned eye and she’s grinning ear to ear. “Is the back of your throat open?” You feel it open as she asks and you nod as best you can. “Then you’re ready!” She coos, and pulls her hand away.

The place her fingers were pressing in under your chin burns. A shiver goes down your spine. The rest of the room seems far away and hazy, muffled. The music is blasting, people are yelling and laughing, but it’s like you’re hearing it through water. Your body feels warm. You feel like the only person in the universe. You feel amazing.

Suddenly, your party guide brings you back to earth by grabbing your hand and licking the back of it. “Wah!” You cry out in surprise. Your neck heats with embarrassment but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s pouring salt all over the spot she licked. You’re baffled, but she starts talking before your mind can even form a question.

“Ok so most shots, you need to drink something right afterward to cut the burn. It’s called a chaser. Usually soda or fruit juice is good, something without alcohol. You can use water in a pinch.” She glances up to look you right in the eyes. “Don’t chase shots with anything alcoholic, unless you want to be puking in the front yard in an hour.” You nod and she nods back, dead serious. Then she winks and presses a lime wedge into your hand.

“Ok but these, these are special! The chaser for these is WAY more fun.” She waves down the person with the alcohol, who fills each of your tiny cups to the brim. “We’re doing tequila shots!”

“Isn’t tequila kinda…hardcore?” You blurt out. You’re a little embarrassed to sound like the newbie you are, but she smiles warmly and leans in close to answer, her tone soft and secretive.

“A lot of people claim it hits them different than other booze,” she says into your ear, raising goosebumps on your neck. “But it’s not any stronger than any other liquor. You’ll be fine baby.”

Baby. You don’t know why but you swear the room is spinning faster than before. She leans back and laughs, raising her voice back to normal.

“Anyway, here’s how you chase tequila shots.” She holds up her hands, tiny cup in one and lime wedge in the other. You mirror her and notice she has salt on the back of her hand too. She must have licked the spot and sprinkled the salt before you did yours, while you were spacing out. You idly wish you had gotten to lick her. You confuse yourself. The room is fuzzy and she is so pretty…

“First, you shoot the tequila, like I showed you. Then you lick the salt off the back of your hand, then bite the lime.” Even in your hazy state, that sounds weird, and you raise your eyebrows, which makes her grin. “I know it sounds intense but trust me, it’s so tasty! C’mon, just follow my lead.”

Watching out of the corner of your eye, you lean your head back and pour the booze into your mouth. It burns, but slides right down your throat. She was right to lean your head back further. Immediately, you lick the salt and bite the lime. To your amazement, it doesn’t taste bad at all. Something in the flavor of the tequila mixes with the salt and lime and makes it all complex and spicy and…fantastic.

“These are SO good!” You giggle in amazement. She giggles with you, leaning forward to grab your arm and hug it. Her soft chest is suddenly pressing into you. A feeling of warmth shoots towards your legs and you’re not sure if it’s the tequila or her.

“What did I tell you!” She replies, body still right up against you. “They’re my absolute favorite. Think you can handle one more?” You nod eagerly, but to be honest, she’s just too close. You’re not sure you could say no right now.

She leaves you to push through the crowd for more ingredients and you stay where you are, stuck to the patch of carpet you’re on, swaying gently. Your brain feels like it might be a thousand miles above you, but you’re so happy.

After a minute or two, a full cup and a lime wedge are pressed into your hand, and she’s sprinkling more salt on you. Your body warms in eager anticipation of more warmth, more gentle loose feeling, more of a chance to follow this woman. Now that you know the steps, you repeat them without thinking. The flavor and feeling flood you and you look to your new friend. She’s watching you closely. Her hands are empty. Did she already do her shot…? She must have. She grabs the wedge and the shot glass out of your hand to toss them. “You’re a quick learner!” She says approvingly. You glow.

She manages to track down your big cups on the counter and wiggles over to fill them with water from the sink. “Gotta stay hydrated, and it’ll help you not get a hangover.” She clinks her red cup against yours and you giggle and drink deeply. Your eyes aren’t quite tracking right. She peers into them. “You ok, baby?”

Baby again. You nod. You think you’ll be ok as long as she calls you baby again.

She turns and peers out the back door, where a group is gathering on the lawn. She glances back to you with a tiny, secretive smile on her face. “Want to try something that is a little…hardcore?”

[samandcolbyownme]

CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE ZACH JUSTICE STORIES I NEED THEM SO BAD!!😭😭

Summary: Drunk reader gets a confidence boost, thanks to tequila.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, lightweight Zach, fully willing/consensual drunk and unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, scratching, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie (oops), general filth

Word count: 2.5k | not edited

“Come on, Zach.” You plead, hand sliding up his arm to grip his shoulder, “Just one shot with me?”

His eyes scan over your hand and up your arm to your face, “You don’t really mean it when you say just one, do you?”

You smile, already feeling kind of tipsy, “You can’t say no to me.”

A smirk plays with his lips, “I can saw whatever I want to you.”

“Will you pleeease take a shot with me, Zachary?” You pout your lip, giving him your best doe eyes with the added batting of your lashes.

“Yes.”

“Wait, really?”

He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “I just wanted to see you beg.” He goes to turn but stops, “You looked so hot doing it, too.”

You feel your cheeks turn warm, if you were sober, you would have walked away from him by now, laughing it off like usual.

“Oh yeah?” You look up at him, “Well, I think you’re hot in general.”

He looks taken aback by your words for a split second before he rolls with, “Of course you do, I’m Zach Justice.” He laughs and you roll your eyes, “If Zach Justice wants to come home with y/n y/l/n after this, I suggested ordering us a shot.”

His brows raise, “Huh?”

You chew on the inside of your lip as you smirk, “You heard me.”

“Did I?” He gives you a wink before turning to the bartender, “Two shots of..” he looks at you and you smirk, “tequila.”

Zach’s eyes about pop out of his head before he looks back at the bartender, “Tequila.”

He nods and Zach looks back at you, “Why do I let you do that?” You smile, playing it off, “What ever do you mean, Zach?”

The bartender places the glasses down and you hand him your card, “You can leave it open.” He nods and walks away.

“You know how to do these right?” You tease and Zach licks his lips, “I think, you should show me first, I’ll buy you another one to take with me.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” You laugh and Zach watches as you lick the back of your hand slightly so the salt can stick to your skin.

“Kinda seems like you’re already there because you’re no longer the shy, quiet, tease. You’re just teasing me.”

“Shy.. quiet tease.. and now..” you look over at him, licking the salt off the back of your hand before you down the shot, a line wedge between your teeth quickly follows.

Zach stares at you and you smirk, “Did you catch that, or do you need to watch me do it again?”

“I picked up on it the first time, sweetheart.” He scoffs, biting down on his lip when you bring the back of his hand up to lick it before adding a dash of salt, “Your turn.”

He clenches his jaw from being slack, tilting his head as what you just did makes him want to take you home right now, “I see what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” You tilt your head and he smirks, “Living up to the nickname I gave you.” You watch as he licks the salt, knocks back the tequila, and finishes with a lime.

You bite down on your lip, “As soon as you take me home, I won’t have to be.” You stand up and Zach whines, “Wait, where are you going?”

You look at him, “Going to find the others.” You smooth your hands over your mini dress, “You coming?”

“You’re not going anywhere in here without me.” He stands up, hand immediately going to the small of your back. Zach doesn’t drink much, like at all, so he was classified as a major lightweight - he was feeling kinda good after that shot.

By the time you walked over to the other side of the bar, you see Tara’s eyes light up as she points, screaming, “No fuckin way! No fucking way!”

“What what what?” Jared asks and Tara laughs, “Did he do it?” You laugh, sitting down next to her as you nod, “Oh yeah, he did it.”

“Did what?” Jared asks, “What the fuck did Zach do now!?”

Zach whips his head over to Jared, “So I had one tequila shot, big whoop. Sue me.”

Jared eyes go wide and his mouth drops, “Tequila!? Oh my god. No you didn’t!”

You nod, “He sure did.”

“How did you get him to do that?” Alyssa asks and before you can answer, Zach cuts you off, “She batter her lashes at me and told me i was just soo hot to her.”

Your mouth drops open, “Thanks, Zach.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.” He smirks, giving you a wink and you smirk, looking away, “In my, defense. He could have always changed the order. Or said no, so.”

“Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of Zach.” Jared laughs and Tara leans in, “Fuckin’ get it girl. Hell yeah!”

You lean in, “Thank god for the liquid confidence boost.” She nods, “Totally get what you mean.” Zach leans over and looks between you and Tara, “I like secrets.”

“Yeah, and I bet you like y/n, too.” She laughs and he nods, “That’s only if she likes me back.” He says it like you’re not even there, making you laugh, “I need more to drink.”

——

An hour later, you’re on the dance floor, Zach holding your hips against him as you move to the beat of the music.

His grip tightens and you turn around, arms going around his neck. You look up at him, smiling as you see him smile.

His hands slide around to the small of your back, pulling you into him, “You ever pull an Irish goodbye?”

“A what?” You laugh and he slides his hand into yours, “I’ll show you.” He laughs and pulls you through the crowd, leading you outside and down the side walk.

You look back laughing harder as you lay your hand on the bed of his elbow, “So you just leave without saying bye?”

He nods, laughing, “Yes ma’am.”

You shake your head and giggle as he pulls you into him, taking a few steps forward with his arms around you. You smile, tilting your head as he kisses your neck, “You know..” he starts out, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Well, looks like you finally going to have me.” You say lowly, turning around to pull him with you as you walk backwards.

“You’re not just doing this because you’re drunk, right?” He asks, making you stop, “Do you really think I don’t like you?”

His eyes look from your eyes to your lips before you both lean in, having a heated, slightly drunken kiss in the middle of the city.

“Mkay. How far from the hotel are we?” Zach asks and you point across the street, “I don’t think we’re far at all.”

“Look at you navigating your way to pound town.”

You lose it, covering your mouth as you laugh loudly, “Zach! Theres people around.” You playfully smack his shoulder and he shrugs, “I feel bad for whoever on the other side of the hotel room.”

You smile, seeing the crosswalk turn green and Zach pulls you, running across the white striped walkway, laughing as he pulls you to him.

You were way more drunk than Zach was, he stopped after half of his third, he had you finish it.

You get in to the elevator and Zach pushes you up against the walls hands on your waist as his lips find yours.

Your hands go to his neck and you moan against his lips. He pushes his hips into yours, groaning as his cock rubbing up against you, “I need you.”

You nod, “P-please.”

The elevator dings and you’re being pulled into his hotel room not even thirty seconds later.

His lips find yours again as both of your hands travel each other’s bodies, unbuttoning buttons, unzipping zippers. You kick your heels off as you step out of your dress that’s pooled over them.

“You are literally so fucking sexy. C’mere.” He lifts you up, legs wrapping around his bare waist before he lays you down on the bed, hand going down to slip two fingers into you.

You gasp at the sudden feeling, back arching as you squeeze your walls around his fingers, “Fuck.” You breathe out, looking up at him.

His fingers slowly thrusts in and out of you a few times, curling upward which makes your roll your hips with a moan, “Fuck, Zach.. please.”

His lips find the skin on your neck, nipping and biting as he keeps working your cunt, gasping at husband thumb brushing over your clit every so often.

“I can already tell you’re going to feel so good around me.” He groans as you reach down, pumping his cock with your hand a few times, “Need you, baby.” You whimper, “P-please.”

“The begging, babe, fuck.” He kisses up to your ear, “makes me weak.”

He pulls his fingers out and you can feel his cock slowly taking their place. Your hands go to his shoulders, digging your nails in as you wrap your legs around his waist, “Oh my g-“

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, a gasp leaving your throat as you feel his hand slide up to squeeze your neck, “Feel so fucking good.”

His lips crash into hours, a heated make out underway as he slowly retracts his hips and slams into you. You moan into his mouth, nails dragging up and down his back as he brings you closer to climax.

“Fuuuck.” You whine loudly, walls clenching around him, “S-so close. So close.” You whimper out, laying your hand on his and squeezing.

He smirks, shaking his head as he squeezes harder, “You like that, hmm?” He gasps lowly in your ear, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took, Zach’s command had you squirming, in a good way, underneath him. His cock guides you through your high, moaning when your nails lightly drag over the scratches that are already there.

He moves his hand from your neck, using it to cup your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours, “Should have made you mine a long time ago.”

You nod quickly, squeezing his cock as you feel another orgasm coming on, “Fuck, flip flip please.”

Zach nods and rolls over, pulling you with so now you’re on top. He throws his head back, hands gripping your ass tight as you slam your hips down, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Gonna cum for me again, huh?” His one hand slides up your back, pulling you down to him. You whimper against his lips, “Y-yes.”

He thrusts his hips upward, not knowing that his own release was right around the corner, “Fuck I’m not-“ Zach groans, throwing his head back as you cum on his cock again, “That’s it, fuck.”

Zach groans, sliding a hand up to the side of your neck as you keep bouncing, “Where do you want me to cum?”

Also thanks to tequila, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasp out, one hand tangling into his hair as you cum with him this time.

He pushes your hips down, thrusting up into you as his cum floods into your satisfied cunt, “Fuck, fuck.” He groans, “shit.”

You let out a sigh, laying on his chest as it heaves you up and down, “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You giggle looking up at him.

He shrugs, giving your forehead a kiss, “I genuinely didn’t think you actually liked me.” You laugh rolling off of him, “Well you can stop thinking that and come with me to get a shower.”

He up and walking over to you, “Marry me.”

“I’ll accept a blue raspberry ring pop and blue raspberry only.” You point to him and he raises his brows, “Noted.”

—

Your eyes opened, squinting at the sunlight peaking through the curtains. You slowly roll over, letting out a slow and quiet breath as you blinking a few times before staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room.

You were more or less convincing yourself not to heave up everything you consumed last night - which was a little bit over your limit.

You looked over at Zach, smiling slightly until you remembered what happened last night and just how many times.

Your body literally aches. You have a literal hangover from hell, and you needed to pee. You push yourself up slowly, grabbing his shirt from the floor before making your way to the bathroom.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a sigh as you flick the lights on. Your all fall on the shower and what happened there, instantly replays in your head.

You let out a moan as he slips into you from behind, your pussy dripping from just a few minutes ago. You reach back, looking for his hand, his arm, something.

He pins your hand down to your lower back, leaning forwards as he pushes his cock all the way in, “You feel so fucking good.”

You moan out at his words, other hand sliding down the steam filled shower door, “Fuck, yes yes yes.” He sucks a mark into your skin, right where people could see if you moved your hair just right, “You’re talking me so good, baby.”

“Y/n?”

“Bathroom.” You call back out before finishing up. As you’re washing your hands, there’s a knock on the door and you look over as it opens, “Thought you left.”

You shake your head, drying your hands on the towel, “Pretty sure we’re a thing now right?” You glance over at him and smirk.

He smirks, nodding as he sees his shirt on your body, “Keep that. I like it better on you.” You look down, grabbing the hem of the shirt, “Are you sure?”

He nods, “Yes.”

You walk over, “Oo. My boyfriend’s first stolen clothing item. Oh, no wait..” Zach looks at you confused, and you smirk, “I have that black knit looking crew neck. It’s in my suitcase actually.”

“I’ve been loo-“ he scoffs with a smirk, “When, how, and why did you?”

“I was going to wear it to the podcast one of these days. See if you noticed.” You smile and he just shakes his head, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

He huffs, laughing as he pulls you in for a kiss, “So you are my girlfriend right?” You kiss him again, “Only if you’re my boyfriend?”

He smirks, nodding his head, “Yeah, I think I can do that.” He smiles up at you and you bite your lip, “How much time do we have before they’re banging on your door?”

“Our door, this is your room now, too, babe,” Zach corrects you and you smile, “Sorry, how long do-“

“I don’t care.” Zach says as he lifts you up, “They can wait.”

——

I really loved writing this for some reason, I have no idea, but let me know what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading! I love you all so much!

Also, I’m sooo close to 3k followers! Thank you all so so much, again!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lizzybeth1986]

Too Little, (But Perhaps Not) Too Late

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kiara & Penelope (platonic). Hints of Hana x Kiara.

Word Count: 3, 085 words.

Summary: At King Liam and Duchess Esther's bachelorette party, Penelope has something to say to her best friend Kiara.

A/N: This is supposed to take place during the events of TRR3 Ch 16 (the MC's bachelorette), but with significant changes that will be a part of my series Petals and Thornes. Penelope's surname is Drammir, the bachelorette is not in Vegas but at Côte d'Or in Cordonia, and by this point in the story Kiara and Hana are secretly a couple.

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 5: Friendships, @choicesficwriterscreations for FotW, @choicesjunechallenge2024 for Ending/Beginning, @choicescommunityevents for Best Friend Day.

"Un Soixante Quinze, s'il vous plait."

Kiara has been to Côte d'Or - and this nightclub - enough times that every bartender there knows without even looking at her that her favourite is a slightly tart French 75; Deirdre smiles, her eyes trained on a violet-coloured bottle somewhere.

"I'll do you one better, Lady Kiara. How about some Empress Gin and a dash of lime?"

Kiara's laughter is a silent gurgle in her throat rather than the court-appropriate tinkle or a loud cackle (that for some reason, Hana seems to love so much), the amusement making her eyes light up. "That'll be fun."

Far more fun at least than watching half the court pair up for dancing from the sidelines, knowing she can't do the same. Yet.

She tries to make her sideways glance towards the other side of the bar look casual, but damn if Hana doesn't make it hard. In a black velvet minidress studded with diamanté, like stars in the night sky, she looks good enough to eat. There is a faraway, dreamlike feel to the way she stares, unseeing, at the opposite wall; Kiara shudders. The same dreams haunt her too, night and day.

Olivia seems to be sashaying her way to the spot where Hana stands, and Kiara turns away, swallowing. That woman has a knack for noticing everything and using that skill against everyone around her in the worst ways. Neither she nor Hana need the additional humiliation of being caught by Olivia Nevrakis of all people, before they're truly ready.

She jumps as she hears a jaunty hello right behind her. It's Penelope - practically prancing her way to Kiara from her spot on the dance floor, flushed and ridiculously happy, several tendrils of hair out of place, lips and cheeks rosier than usual. Kiara instinctively searches the crowd for her brother Ezekiel, and finds him talking to a minor noble some distance away, the dishevelment of his hair barely noticeable.

Kiara smiles back at Penelope. Clearly this night isn't going to be just a celebration of King Liam and Queen Esther's very obviously romantic union, but also a chance, for the many couples that have cropped up in the past few months, to be open about their love in the wake of that passionate love story. Cordonia seems to be changing, Kiara thinks, with a brief pang (she tries...really hard this time...not to look over at Hana again), right in front of her very eyes.

Penelope's attention has already shifted to the way Deirdre masterfully mixes Kiara's drink. The gin and the simple syrup had already been mixed and shaken before Penelope made her appearance; Deirdre's now getting to what Kiara knows Penelope would consider the fun part. She squeezes out a wedge of lime, quietly stealing a glance at her audience of two as the drink's hue changes from clear to a rather vibrant shade of purple.

"Ohhhh," Penelope's gasp comes out in a burst of pleasure.

"Empress 1908 Gin," Kiara whispers to her, "they infuse the concoction with butterfly pea blossoms. They change colour if you add anything acidic to it."

Penelope handwaves the information away with the carelessness she gives most pretty things - it only matters that they look pretty; she couldn't care less for the process that gave her that incredible sight.

Much as Kiara doesn't like to admit it...the word "careless" does seem to be the apt word to define how Penelope goes through her life.

Carelessness in court. Carelessness in her everyday life. Carelessness with belongings, with tasks, with people. Even the ones she genuinely believes (and she does. Truly) she loves.

Part of it - Kiara is aware - has to do with how overwhelming court life, on its own, can be for her. Penelope may have exaggerated some of the hardships she seems to face, but this she has never once lied about.

Navigating court is hard enough, even for Kiara herself, but too often Penelope exudes the appearance of a doe entering a den of lions. For every one thing she manages to get right, Penelope has to fear the hundred things she'll do wrong. At some point you just get resigned to the possibility that a good day might be one where you made fifteen mistakes rather than fifty.

But anyone who stays around Penelope long enough knows that there is a inherent lack of urgency about her, a certain reluctance to think things through, a certain comfort with being tended to, getting pampered, being let off out of sympathy even as her choices wreak havoc. A tendency to consider only her comforts and no one else's.

It isn't meant maliciously. These things just don't occur to her.

Kiara meets Penelope's eyes once, then nods and turns to Deirdre with an order for a strawberry daiquiri. Penelope passes her a grateful glance, relieved at having that decision taken out of her hands.

Kiara sighs. There are a great many things you learn to get used to as Penelope Drammir's best friend - her indecision and passivity being one of them. She shakes her head as she absently twirls her stirrer over her drink. The days Kiara allows herself to think of how annoyed she used to feel (way back during the engagement tour) around Penelope are few and far between, and she does feel guilty of doing her friend a disservice whenever she does. Of being ungenerous, judgemental.

Of abandoning empathy. Even if empathy is a gift she hardly expects to get herself from...well, from anyone.

Kiara steals another glance towards the other end of the bar. Hana and Olivia are standing side by side, their backs facing the bar, their eyes never leaving the dancing couples. From time to time Olivia seems to say something (and Kiara almost bites down her cheek to stop herself from going there and rising to Hana's defense, in case it's something nasty). If Hana is affected, you couldn't tell - so nonchalant is her stance against the bar.

Hana's words from a week ago - warm and soothing and smelling of melted chocolate - still ring in Kiara's ears. You deserve to have people you can lean on, Kiara. As much as anyone else. You need to be able to depend on your friends sometimes too.

Her hand barely ghosts over her side, but Kiara doesn't allow it to linger there. She allows the words to wash over her, like balm. Like some sort of elixir that she hopes will heal her, slowly, spreading its warmth and sweetness in small trickles, taking away the hurt and resentment and self-derision bit by bit.

When she's calm enough to turn to Penelope's side again, she catches her friend staring.

Her eyes no longer on her dairiquiri; she stirs it absently, very much the way Kiara just did a few minutes ago. Those very eyes are suddenly a deeper blue, a darker shade, her gaze more intent and more serious than anything she has ever seen from Penelope in all the years they've known each other.

Kiara takes a nervous sip of her drink (sweet. tart. refreshing), her laughter betraying a slight discomfort. "You're staring at me like I've grown an extra head."

Penelope's gaze doesn't shift back to her usual - the unfocused flitting of the eyes from corner to corner. The intensity of it makes Kiara shift a little in her seat. For all her faults, seeing Penelope be her usual thoughtless, fickle-minded self - always distracted by the newest shiny object or the antics of the nearest dog - has always been reassuring.

"I...I haven't been a very good friend to you, Kiki, have I," Penelope says, quietly.

She says it as if it isn't a question but a statement, as if she has thought enough about it that it has become an already-unquestionable fact in her mind - that for a few moments Kiara finds it hard to say anything in response.

"What makes you say that, Nena?" She says, using that old affectionate nickname that Penelope only allows family and close friends to use with her.

Penelope fiddles with the shell bracelet she usually wears with the dress she's wearing, a sumptuous affair in her house colours - completely inappropriate for Esther's bachelorette (they're all supposed to wear dark or muted colours so the bride could shine in her sparkly gold outfit). But because it's Esther - who honestly couldn't care less - Penelope managed to get away with it.

Much like she has managed to get away with a great deal of things, Kiara realises with an unfortunate twist in her gut. A terrible court performance. Being involved in smearing another courtier's name (learning about that last engagement tour, realising Penelope was comfortable expecting friendship from the woman she did that to and never even bothered to let Kiara know almost ended their friendship for good). Wanting Esther and her friends to pamper her within an inch of her life if they wanted her to accompany them for their tour, even though her past conduct demanded - ethically - that she at least offer unconditional support.

(And never, ever once asking about how Kiara was healing after she was released from hospital. But that was something, perhaps, that she couldn't lay blame on Penelope alone for. For the longest time, her injury really seemed to matter that little to most).

And whether or not Penelope seems to realize how good she has had it without making enough effort from her end, yet...she certainly seems to have made a good enough start right now.

Penelope's voice goes a little softer, her eyes suddenly unable to meet Kiara's. "I think it's all the time Zeke and I have been spending together," she says, one fingernail tracing the seam of a fake shell. "He's been feeling a bit guilty himself, you know. He always tells me he's the older one, he's the one who should be taking care of you...but it's you always playing that role instead."

Kiara winces. "Well... he's never asked that of me, has he?"

Has it been like that, really? Has it? All she knows of her relationship with Zeke is how often she loses patience with him when his reluctance to move out of his safe zone creates problems, either for himself or their family. It's the one thing she has always felt a little guilty about - as much as she has felt whenever she got frustrated with Penelope.

"That's the worst part, he says. That he let you adopt that role, and never give you the same level of support. That of course you find him a little hard to understand, but that never stopped you from trying to help. And of course you never ask for any help in return, but there were so many times you should have gotten it from him anyway," Penelope's sigh comes out in a shuddering breath, and Kiara notices a redness creeping up to her cheeks from her neck. "I never realised until he said that, that I've treated you that way too."

When Penelope looks at Kiara this time, her lashes are spiky with tears. Kiara tries to swallow the lump in her own throat, suddenly overwhelmed.

For a while now, these were thoughts Kiara did have. Thoughts she'd tried to quash in the many, many hours she spent struggling to move in that hospital bed without feeling that pain on her side, thoughts she fought off after being reminded - again and again and again - how she got hurt there. Thoughts that terrified her so much she suppressed them, experiencing a mixture of relief and disappointment when no one, not even her close friends, seemed to find what happened to her important enough to remember.

These were thoughts she could only allow herself to have for no more than a few minutes. They would damn near destroy her if she thought about them any longer than that.

These were the thoughts that made her want to kick herself for being so ungenerous and petty and judgemental. To hear those same words, the words she only allowed herself to think in her darkest, most bitter moments, from Penelope's mouth - without blame, without censure - and to know that Zeke has felt it too...there is a burn in Kiara's throat that she knows won't leave for a long, long time.

Oh, no, Nena, a part of Kiara still wants to say, you're a wonderful friend. Those words, constantly at the tip of her tongue whenever Penelope gets into one of her melancholy, self-pitying moods, seem to haunt Kiara again, urging her to keep their friendship the way it is. Unequal. Unbalanced. Practically one-sided. Kiara forever as protector, Penelope forever as protected. It must be better that way.

Hana's words come back to her - a balm to her bruised spirit.

You need to depend on your friends too.

"I may not have been the friend you needed all this time, Kiki," Penelope whispers, "but from today, I promise you I'll really try."

As Kiara does in the rare occasions she finds herself overcome with emotion, she lets out a wavering, watery laugh.

Will Penelope truly change that? She doesn't know yet. But damn does it feel good that she cares enough to try.

All this time, all this guilt and self-blame...for not being the kind of friend most people would insist Penelope needed. All this resentment, because people would certainly think long and hard about what it meant to be literally anyone else's friend and catering to their needs. Olivia's. Penelope's. Even (ugh) Madeleine's.

But not Kiara's. Never Kiara's.

"I don't know how to respond to this yet, Nena. But I need you to know that I appreciate this. Truly."

Putting her daiquiri down, Penelope crushes her in an impulsive hug that almost sends tiny purple droplets of Kiara's drink flying onto her outfit. Neither of them notice.

They part, reluctantly, and spend the rest of their time together drinking in companiable silence as the vibrations from the nightclub's loud music thumps on the floor beneath them. When the tune changes to a slower, more romantic tune, Kiara can't stop herself from taking a peek at the other side of the bar.

Penelope follows her gaze, and smiles when it lands on Hana. "You should go there."

"Hmm?" Kiara murmurs, barely hearing Penelope. Hana and Olivia are still talking, but the vibes feel far more chilly than they seemed to be a few minutes ago. Now Hana is the one slightly smiling, like the cat who got the cream, and Olivia looks surprisingly...pale? Perhaps a little ill?

Definitely not as smug as she seemed when she sauntered her way to Hana's side.

She isn't sure how that came about, but the possibility that Hana may have had something to do with it does fill her with an odd sort of pride. The kind of pride that makes her want to point to Hana in front of a crowd of twenty-plus nobles and announce, as loud as she can, "that's my girlfriend!!"

Penelope giggles so hard she almost snorts her drink out of her nose. "Go get your girl, Kiki."

Kiara stares at Penelope for a minute, then self-consciously runs her palms over her own outfit. "Am I that obvious?"

Penelope is still giggling. "Only right now, and only because I'm literally standing next to you."

Kiara laughs, relieved. This love she shares with Hana will still be her - their - secret. She wants it to stay that way, just a little bit longer.

The strains of the love song currently playing feel a little out of place for this nightclub, but Kiara's feet are almost itching for a slow dance in someone's arms. Head over heels when toe to toe. This is the sound of my soul. By the way Hana is looking at her now - alone at the bar again - Kiara can tell she wants it too.

Penelope places a hand on Kiara's shoulder, taking her leave with a grin and a conspiratorial wink. "Zeke must be looking for me. Have fun, Kiki!" Clearly in a mood for generosity, she kisses Kiara on the cheek before she leaves.

(For a woman who has never slept with, well, anyone before, Hana seems to be quite adept in the art of seduction already. Kiara has to bite the inside of her cheek just to fight the urge to whisk her to her hotel room for the rest of the night)

When she reaches Hana's side, the other woman's gaze moves over her in the most leisurely pace known to man. Slow, sensual, soaked in knowing, promising more than just one dance.

The soles of Kiara's feet tingle just from imagining the possibilities. She knows what they're going to be doing at least an hour (Kiara's being generous - she probably might not even last that long) from now.

"Lady Hana," Kiara says, holding out her hand and inwardly laughing at her own playful formality, "I believe I owe you a dance."

Hana breaks character, laughing delightedly. "A dance would be a good start."

Hana rests her head on Kiara's shoulder, her face nestled close to her collarbone. Her face is nestled close enough to Kiara's collarbone that she could breathe in her perfume if she wanted; she can feel Hana's long, deep inhale reverberate through her own body as she does. As Kiara runs a hand down Hana's back, she begins to sigh in tandem to the music too, drunk on her love for this woman. Ah ah ah haa haa. I know this much is true.

Even with her eyes closed, Kiara can feel the lights - deep purple and sea green - dancing behind her eyelids. The feel of Hana's palm against hers. A whiff of Gucci Bloom that comes and goes - that Kiara registers, instinctively, as the presence of her best friend stealing another dance with her brother. Kiara sighs happily.

Tomorrow might be as hard to live through as yesterday was, as this morning was, as every morning has been since this tour began. But every once in a while, she's gifted with tiny miracles.

This evening - every bit of it - has been a tiny miracle. And if this tour has taught her anything, it's that the tiny miracles are often the most memorable ones.

Almost as if they can both sense a desire to come closer, Hana and Kiara tighten their arms around each other almost imperceptibly.

Kiara smiles, again. Tomorrow may be different. But today...today has been beautiful. Today has been perfect.

This night of miracles does seem to be in any hurry to leave, and she's going to embrace it with both hands.

--

References:

French 75 - a cocktail made from gin, champagne, lemon juice, and sugar. It is also called a 75 Cocktail, or in French simply a Soixante Quinze.

Learn more about Empress Gin gin French 75 here.

The song Hana and Kiara are dancing to at the end is "True" by Spandau Ballet.

A/N1: I hint at a scene that is not part of canon but that will eventually show up at this point of the story when I write it in Petals and Thornes (basically Hana and Olivia talking. I won't be talking about it here, but it will be a major scene from Hana's PoV at this point in the story).

A/N2: Often, when the fandom speaks about the Kiara and Penelope friendship, there tends to be a lot of sympathy for Penelope and criticism for Kiara. But when you take a closer look at canon, the opposite applies. The narrative tends to center this friendship on Penelope alone, with Kiara needing to constantly worry and protect her, and Penelope rarely ever showing the same regard or concern for Kiara. It's a grossly imbalanced friendship, and I did want some acknowledgement of that.

A big thank you to @thecapturedafrique for suggesting this title 😁😁