#anthony boyle fic

[sagesolsticewrites]

Better Kind of Best Friend

Anthony, your friend-with-benefits, stops by for an impromptu visit after an interview.

a/n: Alexa, play Style (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift 😏 And once again hugest of shoutouts to my darling Winnie for another fantastic playlist!!

Warnings: mature content (oral (f receiving), PinV penetration, Anto being a tease), swearing

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

“Stupid—” You grumble, shoving the closet door closed. 

You had just finished your fight with the broom, who simply refused to fit in the tiny storage closet where you kept all of your cleaning supplies, when your doorbell rang.

Sending up a silent thanks that whoever decided to call on you had done so after you had finished your fairly productive cleaning day, you moved to answer it.

And you couldn’t stop your jaw dropping when you saw who was behind it.

“Anto?”

“Hey,” he breathes, scanning you up and down, and it’s at that moment you realize just how little you’re wearing, having opted for a simple tank and your comfiest pair of shorts.

You step aside to let him in, taking in his appearance as he does so.

Messy hair, but messy in a way that lets you know it was styled that way. A simple, well-fitting white t-shirt, and what you had to admit were the best-looking jeans you’d ever seen in your life. 

As he turns to you, you note his face looks smoother, almost matte— makeup.

“I— did you just come from an interview or something?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly, “It finished, and I realized how close I was to your place, and I just… I wanted to see you.”

You both know he means something other than “see”, there.

“Is it, uh…” He glances around, seemingly realizing that he’s dropped in on you with zero warning, “not a good time?”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

It could be 3am on a Wednesday, and you’d still be happy to see him.

“You want a coffee— or, sorry, tea?” You ask, nodding towards your now-spotless kitchen.

A minute later, he’s leaning against your counter as you rummage through the cabinets, though you know the mugs will likely be left to go cold sooner or later.

As you go through the motions of tea preparation, your mind drifts back to how this… arrangement started.

You had met on set several years back, and there was an instant connection between you two. Neither of you were looking for a relationship at that time, but what was supposed to be a one night stand turned into two. Then three. And now when he was in town every so often, he’d stop by. No matter how many times you swore to yourself that this is the last time… when he showed up with those damn puppy eyes practically begging to take you to bed, you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no. Even if it hurt every time he left again, because somewhere along the way you’d started wanting to be more than friends. And you’d kept that wish tucked close to your heart, because it had been a while since the last time he stopped by, and doing so right after an interview? You were sure he just wanted to… destress after a long day.

You hand him his mug, moving to lean against the kitchen island across from him.

After several minutes of silence, you speak, hyperaware of his gaze pinning you in place.

“So how’d the interview go?”

“I don’t think I wanna talk about the interview right now,” he replies in a low voice, and the way he scans you up and down has you squeezing your thighs together as if your life depends on it.

You try to think of something, anything to say in response, but your mind goes blank as he moves towards you — mug abandoned like you knew it would be — pinning you against the counter as his hands trail up your sides.

Your body goes loose and pliant under his touch, your head falling to the side to expose your neck as he noses at your jawline.

“Been too fucking long,” he breathes against your skin, and you barely have time to sigh his name before his lips are on your neck.

You arch into him as he scatters kisses all along your skin, making liberal use of his teeth to leave deep purple marks all over your neck. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fisting his curls as his mouth trails along your collarbone.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs against your skin, your spine tingling at the heat of his tone and the utterly molten look in his eyes as he looks up to meet your gaze, “Can I? Please?”

You nod furiously, your “yes” escaping as a soft moan.

He grips your hips firmly, lifting you onto the counter with an effortlessness that has heat pooling between your thighs — an effect heightened by the way his mouth remains on your skin as he steps between your legs and begins fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

You lift your arms to allow him to peel it off of you, your nipples pebbling in the cool air of the kitchen.

Anto swears softly as he drinks you in, eyes darkening, and you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as you wait for him to do something.

His mouth returns with a vengeance to attack your collarbone, quickly moving south to skim along the tops of your breasts.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs in a tone that has you letting out a moan even before his mouth moves to capture your nipple, the hand that isn’t still firmly attached to your hip moving up to toy with your other breast.

You whine his name as his tongue swirls expertly around you, his hand quickly replacing his mouth as he pulls away to repeat the action where his hand just was.

His ministrations soon have you grinding against nothing, hips bucking desperately against the air, and you can feel the teasing bastard chuckle against your skin as he mouths his way down your stomach.

“Impatient, are we?” He hums, something sparking in his eyes at the yelp that escapes you when he digs his teeth teasingly into the soft flesh just above the waistband of your shorts.

“You said yourself it’s been too fucking long,” you pant, sighing out a “finally” and lifting your hips as he makes quick work of removal your shorts and panties.

Your relief is soon replaced once again by impatience as he kneels between your legs, fingertips lightly dragging through your slick folds, and then putting his mouth…

On your fucking thigh, nibbling and sucking his way almost to your core before repeating the motions on your other thigh.

“Anto, you fucking…”

You can’t even finish your complaint, words escaping you as you whine at the feeling of his teeth grazing against your skin.

“What was that?” He hums, a teasing glint in his eyes as he looks up to meet your gaze, “Something you wanna say?”

“Quit being a teas— oh my god.”

Your plea is cut off with a cry as his mouth finally reaches your core, licking deep into your folds.

He lets out a groan, the vibrations of which send delicious shivers throughout your body as he drags his tongue through your core. 

You moan, long and loud as your hand finds its way into his messy waves, pulling him closer. One of his hands remains on your thigh, keeping your legs spread, while the other moves upwards, his thumb expertly circling your clit.

“Fuck, Anto,” you whine, your head falling back as his mouth and fingers work overtime on your core, tightening the growing tension just below your belly.

He hums in satisfaction against you, recognizing the signs of you reaching your peak, and it takes no time at all for him to guide you through your climax as you release with a cry of his name.

Legs shaking, your eyes flutter open in time to see him mouthing his way back up your body, lips dragging deliciously against your skin.

He sucks at the tender skin of your neck, and you can feel him grinning against you at your shaky exhale.

“Oh Y/N, you didn’t think I’d forgotten what you liked, did you?”

Fucking tease.

“Oh Anto, you're not done already, are you?” You manage to quip back, squeezing his hips between your thighs.

“Definitely not,” he says lowly, pulling away to shuck off his shirt as your hands move to fumble with his belt.

You lean forward to drag your mouth along his neck, lips gliding up the hollow of his throat and along his jawline as he retrieves something from his pocket before his remaining clothes join the pile on your kitchen floor.

A huff of a laugh escapes you as you see the familiar foil packet in his hand.

“You came prepared, huh?”

“Don’t I always?” He says, mouth twitching up into the smallest of smiles.

You expertly tear it open and roll the latex onto him, unable to hide your smirk at the way his breath hitches when you drag your fingers teasingly back up his shaft.

He swears under his breath at your touch before planting his hands on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He leans in, his breath hot on your skin as he lines himself up at your entrance with a whisper of “I’m gonna fuck you now, yeah?”

You just barely bite back a ragged moan, settling for a shaky “yes, please” as he slowly presses into you.

“Look at you, getting your manners back as soon as I’m inside you,” he teases once he’s fully entered you, hips pressed flush to yours, “You missed me that badly?”

I did, I really did, is what you long to say, but you can’t bring yourself to say the words that could ruin the delicate balance of your relationship, so you settle for stammering: “Shut up and fuck me already.”

A wicked grin crosses his face, and he slowly pulls out and thrusts back into you, your breath hitching as his hips snap into yours repeatedly.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he pants against you.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Your only response is a desperate whine, your fingers tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck.

He mumbles praise against your skin, the tension within you building with every thrust.

Your ankles lock behind his back, pulling him closer as he drives deeper into you, your nails grazing down his back as you let out a loud moan.

“Anto— Anto, fuck, ‘m gonna—”

“Oh, yes,” he growls into your ear, continuing the punishingly fast pace, “C’mon, Y/N, come for me—”

His thumb moving to circle your clit as he continues to pound into you is the thing that sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

With a muffled groan, Anto quickly follows suit, spilling into the condom after two more erratic thrusts before slumping against you, utterly spent.

He presses sloppy kisses up your neck as the two of you attempt to catch your breath, swearing softly as he pulls out of you and huffing out a laugh as you whine at the sudden emptiness.

“You alright?” He asks softly once you’ve both got your breath back, wriggling back into his boxers and t-shirt after he’s discarded the condom.

You nod, slipping back into your tank and shorts.

“Wanna hang out for a bit? I’m on a bit of a Bake-Off binge right now…”

Your heart soars at the way his eyes light up at the chance to watch something mindless after a day of answering endless questions about his career— he loves it, you know he does, but you also know the toll it takes.

“I’d love that,” he grins, making quick work of wriggling back into his jeans and following you to the living room.

You find yourself curled up next to him, his arm around your shoulders as you both point out the clear mistakes each contestant is making (mistakes that you both would definitely make, but that’s not important right now).

— — —

You groan, eyes fluttering open against the bright sunlight streaming through your windows, a blanket that you didn’t remember pulling over you falling to the floor as you sit up. Blearily, you glance around, feeling like something’s missing…

Your heart sinks the tiniest bit as you realize he must have left at some point in the middle of the night.

It would’ve been awkward if he stayed, you scold yourself, it’s better this way.

That logic doesn’t stop a smile growing on your face as you notice a thermos of tea on the coffee table, next to a scrap of paper with Anto’s signature scrawl.

Y/N,

Thanks for letting me barge in yesterday. Sorry I couldn’t stay, but I promise I’ll drop by again soon. Thanks for the tea and… everything else ;)

Yours,

Anto

You take a sip of the tea— just the way you liked it, of course— relishing the ache between your legs. If this was all you could have of him for now, well… 

You’d take it, happily.

[xxanaduwrites]

much ado about nothing, major

i. bubbles & battle scars

gif creds @sakuragifs !

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— i: mentions of injury, death, & puking. (pretty much just maude, bubbles, & croz being a dynamic trio, total bestie vibes — & then there’s john. he’s just there haha)

word count: 3.4k

there must be something or nothing at all

July 24, 1943 was the date — a date marked in the history books as the start of the Hamburg attacks, and in the journal of Nurse Maude Bluell, an inclusion of her very first introduction to one Major John Egan.

It was just past 0900 hours when the doors swung open to the infirmary rather unexpectedly. Bluell was organizing a new shipment of supplies, placing gauze, bandages, and wraps alike in their respective places, Lottie wa re-evaluating the health passes for the men who were flying today — confirming that they has passed inspection so to speak, and Q — well Q was reading newspaper cutouts of her favorite gossip columns, courtesy of her girlfriends back home. A red cherry sucker laid limply in her mouth as she took in the recent excepades of the Hollywood starlets she fawned over.

For Q, it was better for her to dive her nose into the latest gossip than worry about a certain Lieutenant she had tethered a liking too. A certain Lieutenant Curtis Biddick — "Curt" for short — who was scheduled to fly today. Q would deny the prospect of liking the New Yorker with the heavy accent, but it wasn't deniable to Lottie and Maude who had seen the Lieutenant saunter in every morning just to talk to her at the nurse's station. He used the need for a sucker to subside his "apparent" drops in blood sugar as his excuse of choice.

Lottie reprimanded her every time, claiming that they were only for the patients, not for the healthy airmen — hiding the sugary sweet lollipops from her colleague.

But, Lottie's attempts proved to be fruitless as Q would find them at every turn in every single hiding spot, opening a sucker of her own just to push Lottie's buttons.

And, she was doing that just now — not just to bother the blonde, but to also hold some sort of reminder of Biddick, that he was here with her as much as she was there with him — the cherry red sucker that mirrored the very same shade of her hair — tucked safely in the pocket of his flight uniform for a victory treat.

Alas — in other words — there wasn't much to do until their men came flooding back in waves.

Until there was.

The sound of a door swinging open broke the dead silence that pervaded the medical unit. The three women immediately dropped everything they were doing once they saw the sight of Colonel Harding sauntering in with Lieutenant Payne following suit — under the haven of a thick blanket, accompanied by the the arm of one of his fellow airmen.

Or well — Maude and Lottie did.

Susan was trying to consume the last line of the article in front of her as fast as she could. She didn't want to be left wondering what Bettie Davis was doing nowadays in the middle of assessing what was to come.

Lottie, being under the wing of Doctor Stover longer than the two nurses beside her, did not hesitate to meet Harding half way. "Good morning, Colonel'' she greeted, pressing her clip board of names close to her chest as a means of suppressing the shock of it all. It was rather unusual to see any of the airmen, let alone the Colonel until the conclusion of a mission, especially when every health pass had been confirmed and processed.

"Morning. Ladies," Harding replied to the three nurses present respectfully as he always did, curt, and to the point. "Lieutenant Payne is coming down with something and will no longer be navigating today's mission," he explained. "You ladies mind checking up on him?"

"Oh not at all, sir!" Lottie chirped, setting her clipboard down and immediately swinging into action. She nodded over at her colleagues, urging them to take the clearly pale and ill Lieutenant from the hold of the corporal present.

It didn't take long for Bluell and Q to get the Lieutenant situated and comfortable in a bed with brand new sheets — pressed and floral scented. Maude felt lucky and rather grateful that they had completed that task in time for such a situation to occur. Q was still quite busy with her cherry sucker while simultaneously taking the man's blood pressure, so Bluell decided to do the evaluating — not that she minded anyways. It was refreshing to see a man in front of her who wasn't bleeding out and barely coherent. She could already tell without really knowing that Payne would be just fine. That she wouldn't be losing another one of their men just yet, and that made the weight in her chest subside with the sweetest relief.

"Lieutenant Payne," Maude enunciated carefully, smiling fondly at the poor man in front of her. It was obvious from the sight in front of her that illness had racked his bones. The color was draining from his skin, a dull gray taking over, a line of sweat was creasing his brow, and his eyes drooped heavily doused with a glossy sheen. "Please, if you could tell me what seems to be going on. How are you feeling?"

"Well, quite shitty," he laughed dryly, yet a smile still managed to grace his features and prove to be rather contagious to Maude's expression  in seconds flat. "I was fine. I mean, I thought I was. 'Twas until I was propped up ready to fly, feeling like I could hurl if I even moved a muscle. Major Egan shut that down real quick though. Got me a sub with Croz."

And there it was, a title attached to the name of a man Maude Bluell would have scorched into the back of her mind soon enough. Yet, now – now in that very moment, her unfamiliarity with that very same man would simply fly over her head. Instead, she would find a tying point to her patient in the traces of his explanation, one that made her eyes light up in genuine interest. "Lieutenant Crosby?" She asked while dropping the back of her hand to Payne's forehead, inspecting the extent of his temperature."

"Yuh-huh," he nodded

At the same time as Q announced "one-nineteen over seventy," but it really sounded like, "nun-eye-dee ova even-yee," with that sucker still tucked dedicatedly in her mouth.

Maude's hand dropped from Payne's forehead then, seeming pleased to know that he wasn't burning up as bad as she expected – definitely warm but more mildly speaking – and his blood pressure was relatively normal. The wheels were already turning in her head, coming to the conclusion that he merely had some sort of bug. But, she couldn't really come to one until Doctor Stover came to access the man himself.

"Lemme guess," Payne began, getting Maude's attention after she instructed Q to get the Lieutenant a glass of water. If she got his prognosis right, he would need to remain hydrated to subside the urge to vomit. "He's here quite often ain't –" Payne's words seemed to lodge in his throat then, his features twisting just the same.

The clear indication of his illness brought Nurse Bluell to flight mode and she picked up the bucket adjacent to his bed in mere seconds. "Let it out, Lieutenant," she urged as she situated it on his lap just in time for him to spill out the contents into the bin instead of his bed. He did just that, and Bluell did not hesitate to keep the bucket steady and rub his back in a soothing motion, hoping to ease the strain in his back from achy muscles.

Once he was done, he slumped back against the headboard – his eyes appearing glossier than they had before. He was spent, but that did not stop him from mumbling out his appreciation. "Thank you Nurse – Nurse?" He trailed off, a crease forming on his sweaty forehead with a curious sort of confusion.

"Bluell. Nurse Bluell," she introduced herself, moving the bucket off the bed, tying up the old one, and replacing it with a brand new one. "But you can just call me Maude."

"Maude. The powerful battler," a droopy smile spanned across his face, recalling the meaning behind the name of the nurse in front of him.

"Yes, but –" her cheeks dusted pink, and she looked away from him as she got rid of the previous trash close by. "Not me. All you – All you boys."

"Doubt that." Q brought over the water then and he thanked her kindly before taking a gentle sip. "Call me Bubbles."

"Pardon, Lieutenant?" Bluell stood straight then, completely taken aback by his sudden admission. She took a deep breath and sucked back the urge to laugh.

It wasn't uncommon by any means for nicknames to be a staple pass of courtesy and comradely around base. It served as an attempt to distinguish the tension of a deeply set reality and also comouflague identity to foreign forces. Like Charolette and Susan who replied to Lottie and Susie Q or just plain old Q. It was common knowledge. And she had found herself giving into such knowledge as she adjusted to the shortened form of her surname — replying to Blue more often than not. But, Bubbles. Bubbles? She hadn't heard something quite like that before.

"Bubbles. That's what they call me. Ain't heroic by any means. You can ask Croz the next time he's here, 'M sure he'll tell yuh," he elaborated.

A chuckle escaped her then, a genuine smile enveloping in her cheeks in a way that almost felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled – really smiled since she'd arrived on base. "Quite heroic to me,." She flattened her hands across the edges of the mattress, making sure he was tucked into the sheets comfortably and then she fluffed up the back of his pillow for me good measure. "Should rest up now, Lieutenant. I'll be here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call us over," She affirmed, and in a sudden newfound sense of confidence or maybe it was simply just the comradery, she found herself adding, "that's an order, Bubbles."

Bubbles – still poorly, shivering, and pale as a ghost – managed a light laugh from his strained throat as Maude left the man be. "You got it, Maude"

Maude's spirits appeared to be more pleasant than usual as she busied herself in the next coming hours. Her conversation with Lieutenant Payne – or Bubbles if you will – subsided the nerves that usually rattled her in deep anticipation of what was to come. However, knowing that Lieutenant Crosby was navigating today still kept her worried.

Would his stomach be okay?

Would the natural herbs she recommended to brew in his tea ease him?

Those thoughts did not fail to plague her mind throughout the day, but she was grateful to have some distraction in the task of caring for Bubbles. She made sure to keep an eye on him as much as she could, so much so, that it started to concern Nurse Charlotte Reign and Susan Quinn who felt as if previous patterns from the young nurse were resurfacing. Patterns that were brought into light the very same day an airmen died in her arms for the very first time.

Yet, Maude felt fine – well, as fine as one could be in the circumstances placed upon her. She felt like she could breathe again the moment the boys returned from the Trondheim mission in the later afternoon. It had proved to be successful – and even more so in the hands of one Lieutenant Crosby who was currently at Bubble's bedside. With a chair situated over, he not only came to check on his best friend, but also report on the mission.

Maude was finishing up wrapping a flier's burn wounds adjacent to Lieutenant Payne when she unintentionally overheard the conversation at hand. "I mean the flak, it came in so hot. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It – It must of froze, but then these chunks, they start rolling down my forehead, I think 'holy mackerel crosby, holy mackerel, you've been hit!"

"Of course you would narrate your own death." Bubbles laughed lightly at his friend's retelling.

She secured the wrap tightly and comfortably and practically repeated the earlier lines she had said to Bubbles. She was starting to become more and more accustomed to her script, finding it more and more natural as she annunciated each word within passing days.

"Well, I mean I could make overthinking into an Olympic sport." Lieutenant Crosby joked just as Maude appeared at Bubbles bedside. She smiled at the two men, acknowledging them as she refilled Payne's water cup without interrupting their conversation.

"I've been puking so much today, I'm starting to catch up to you. Ask Maude." He nodded to the nurse next to them.

"Evening Maude." Crosby greeted the nurse. "Hope Bubbles here ain't giving you too much flak.”

"No more than you have." She just about pulled the man's chain with that one, making Bubbles erupt in laughter.

"Hey, 'snot my fault, Nurse." Crosby held a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him with his words, but the knowing smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Did you try the tea?" She asked Croz, handing the cup of water over to Bubbles. His color was starting to come back. He looked better than this morning but he still needed to stay hydrated if he was gonna get back in the skies anytime soon.

"Nah. Next time when I actually know I'm flying I will," he sent a look over to Bubbles, only pushing his friend's buttons for fun. "Thanks Bubbles."

"Anytime." He said laughing against the rim of his cup. He took one last sip before Maude placed it back on the side table for him.

It seemed like Croz wasn't gonna let that one slide so easily. "You know I washed my hair twice, I still can't get the smell out." He leaned over his friend, practically shoving his hair in the fellow Lieutenant's face."You wanna smell? Yeah, jump in."

"No. No!" Bubbles tensed up then.

"Yeah, Come on." Croz pushed on.

Maude couldn't help but laugh at the playful side of these men. Men who still managed to let their inner kid shine through all the horror and terror they had ensued in the skies.

"Get – get away. I will puke on you! Yuh gonna have to wash it out." Bubbles threatened, trying to push Croz away.

And then like a burst of unexpected flax, everything shifted.

For not only Croz who immediately stiffened back in his seat – putting on a serious and professional front, but for Maude who – for lack of her own sense of understanding – found herself freezing just the same, but for a whole other reason.

"There he is," a deep, firm, yet some-what carefree voice broke the ice within her. And there he was, one Major Egan looking and sounding like one of those Hollywood starlets in Q's paper clipping — just stepping out of a film in the cinema. And if he hadn't had a small cut just under his right eye, he could have passed as a man who hadn't just returned from an intense mission across the skies. Clean cut, pressed in his uniform, curls styled and gelled back to perfection, with his flight jacket wrapped around his arms. Arms that held a strong hand planted against the edge of the foot of Bubbles bed. "How you doing Bubbles?" He asked.

Maude hadn't realized she was staring at the six foot two bulk of a man in front of her until Bubbles spoke up. "Never better, sir."

"That's good." And then his eyes landed on her, so intense, she suddenly wondered if he had become even taller than he was a minute ago. Feeling caught, she looked away and busied herself with the water cup on Bubbles nightstand to give herself something to do. Would the Major report back to Doctor Stover that she was incompetent and unfit to take care of his men? Lucky for Maude, his gaze broke away from hers the moment she turned around. "And I was looking for you," He said to Croz.

The chair beneath Croz creaked in protest as he stood up to be at the Major's level. "I'm sorry, Major."

"What for?" Major Egan inquired loosely.

"I – I didn't give PRs the whole flight back, I messed up the rendezvous – "

"I know. I know. The radio silence really threw off those Jerries. It's that and hitting the deck." Egan affirmed. With the conversation becoming more detailed, Maude felt out of place and rather rude for overhearing. Yet, the next words that came out of the Major's mouth not only took Croz and Bubbles by surprise, but Maude too. Any previous contemplations seemed to dissipate the moment Egan said, “Now, Harding, he couldn't be more impressed by you so, I'm transferring you to Blakely's crew full time," and then, " Bubbles, you get better, we'll find you a new fort. And Croz, we gotta give you an actual nickname."

"They call him Bing back home." Bubbles added into the conversation just as Maude urged him to take another sip. "More?" He asked, and she simply nodded as she turned back into her previous position– her view of all three men near her resurfacing.

"Bing Crosby? That's just lazy, unless you can sing." Major Egan put in his two cents, and his eyes gleamed when he asked, "Can you sing?"

"I–I ca –" Croz tethered.

"Like a donkey." Bubbles confirmed with zero ounces of hesitation, truly on a roll at deflating Croz's ego today without letting an ounce of illness ruin the fun.

"No, no – not a note, sir."

"Ah, I'm no good either, but I'm loud and hell if you can commit with enough enthusiasm, it really don't matter." And this was when Maude would come to learn of the singing shenanigans that came with one Major Egan. If only she knew then that those shenanigans would very well start up something alright.

The shorter Lieutenant and the taller Major clapped hands then in parting – a shake of sealed establishments and confirmations, proving that they were on the same page. "I'll see you at the Club Croz. I'm buying," the one with height told him, referring to the same exact club Lottie and Q would be dragging Bluell against her will in just a few short hours. "Goodnight Bubbles."

"Sir."He croaked between sips and finally handed the cup back to Maude for good.

"Goodnight, sir." Croz bid farewell. When the Major was out of earshot could Maude breathe, and Croz seemed to be too because he was back to bantering as he commented, "He thinks my nickname is lazy."

Another patient called her over then, stealing her away from the two men she had found herself laughing along with, yet a part of her felt grateful for the sudden diversion – especially now, after the Major's interruption. She couldn't explain it – couldn't even compartmentalize it exactly, but something had shifted inside her the moment he had stepped foot into the infirmary. An instinctive feeling of sorts — awfully hard to pinpoint. It hurt her head too much trying to think about it, so much so, she momentarily wondered if she was coming down with the same exact virus as Bubbles.

She wasn't.

But, she knew it was something, but what was it?

That — she didn't know.

Yet, something deep inside her – against her better judgment – told her that she needed to know. So as Croz passed by and bid her a farewell of his own, she knew what she had to do. And when the girls pitched going out to the Club again tonight, practically begging her in their shared quarters — Lottie using Q's obvious need for a distraction with Curt's lack of a return — did she give into their demise.

Was there really much ado about one night on the town?

Lottie and Q wouldn't think so, and Major Egan – well he wouldn't think so either.

the way in which she is already whipped without "knowing" is so real.

+ Q — curt and susie got me giggling & kicking my feeties !!!

also, for important context purposes, the gifs in the beginning is how i imagine bucky diverting his gaze from eyeing miss. maude ;) sir, we all know you were LOOKING — respectfully!

p.s.: i love bubbles & croz so bad, ugh my HEART <3

ANYWAYS.....

more to come sooner than you think. lemme know what ya think so far? feedback is much appreciated as this is BRAND NEW. this is also my very FIRST historical-esce fic so my apologies if there is any inaccuracies, but it do be my own fiction twist anyways haha.

love ya'll a mil, smoochies!

— xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@major-mads

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

[blog-nstuff2]

Are there any fics about this man or am I gonna have to make one up in my head myself? Should be easy cuz I think he was in one of my dreams recently

[ecoustsaintmein]

No one is going to read this but i have officially headcanon'd Anthony Boyle as a modern-day-Moriarty who has a criminal empire despite looking like an unassuming elementary grade English teacher (in fact maybe he is masquerading as an elementary grade English teacher), while delegating his daily operations to his charming ex-military/mercenary (red) right-hand-man Sebastian Moran, played by Nate Mann.

And they wreak havoc across the city.

I'm not crying you're crying

[kits-ghosts-corner]

anthony boyle knows about tiktok edits about him because his sister showed them to him.

does. does he also know about ao3. i ask as the person who has written fifty shardlake fics. does he know and, if he does, how quickly do i die

[desi-me-rollin-they-hatin]

WE AINT SURVIVIN' THIS ANTO ERA 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

i'm gonna change my header to something from the say nothing trailer

eventually

[masterswrd]

tagged by @horrorcupid for this hannibal tag game and i went bananas with it 

favourite episode and why: Su-Zakana! the horse episode! Very gross but I love Peter! Hannibal’s outfits are stunning! Will being an elegant bisexual. We get to meet Margot! “How would you do it?” “With my hands.” I ALSO! Think! That Will is more sad in this episode than he is in all previous episodes. He just got out of being institutionalized for a year, having lost his teaching job. He meets Peter and gets reminded that he’s been abused in the same way. As sexy as the “how would you do it” scene is, I really think Will has no clue what he wants to do with Hannibal. After a year of being separated by bars and chains, he’s finally so close enough to wrap his hands around his throat and once he gets there I don’t think he knows what he would do next, but his whole body would be on fire while he did it. (honorable mention for hannibal petting the sheep) oh and the hands! Will is desperately trying to tune out hannibal. he doesnt want to see him or listen to him because he’s right!! THEN! Hannibal stopping the hammer of Will’s gun and brushing their fingers to directly mirror hannibal and clarice in silence of the lamb! I will never get over Hannibal just holds Will at the nape of his neck and gets so close. when will finally looks at him he’s met with hannibal smiling and looking at him with pure adoration and it kills will so bad that his internalized homophobia jumped out in the next episode where he dreams about hannibal telling him he loves him and has to kill him in the dream because its the only scenario where hannibal would stop loving him and he knows that and it kills him. 

least favourite episode and why: probably Ouef because it feels like a crime procedural more than any of the other episodes and child death / abuse makes me very sad : ( also not gay enough

favourite main character: i hate all these people but probably Will because im a repressed psychotic bisexual who doesnt know whats going on ever. 

favourite side character: freddie all the way. she hates cops, loves drama, and hannibal loves her website and who am i to argue with the guy who has the most taste in the whole show? seems kinda cringe to hate her tbh

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be: abigail! i think she shouldve been able to escape everyone and heal and cut her hair and live in the twin cities and find a girl that kisses her under the minnehaha falls ice cave! 

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: the black chicken soup sounds really good. ive actually been wanting to order the ingredients since soups are my jam and i cook all the time and have enough faith in myself to get it right. 

which side character would you kill off: theres nobody alive that i wouldnt want to stay alive. but i wish we wouldve gotten the scene that they cut of cassie boyle blowing cigarette smoke in hannibal’s face that sounds so funny and on track with the people i know who go to the U of M duluth. 

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at: when will and hannibal look at eachother im just like “turn this shit OFF”

biggest ship: how about FRIENDships, i say kicking the hannibal x will fics im writing under the rug. i think will and margot shouldve bonded more and i wish peter was a recurring character who was best friends with will and had pet play dates. will deserves people that care about him!!

why did you start watching hannibal: i originally started watching it cuz i used to be friends with a will graham kinnie but then i got bored and hopped off after the 3rd episode but this summer i sat down and watched it with my wife and we had no spoilers and went nuts the whole time it was great. 

favourite fic if you’ve read any: We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater along the two other fics in that series. it’s absolutely devastating and im a sucker for time travel / groundhog day kinda stuff and dark will!! it’s great you gotta read it if you havent. 

have you watched any of the hannibal films: yes! after watching manhunter i realized that bryan fuller really did all this cuz will was hot in that movie. there was also a very tender moment between will and dr bloom that i really liked. anthony hopkins is also very good at being a creepy little man and his tiktok account is so damn funny.

have you read the thomas harris books: i’ve read Red Dragon and i wish they but more nasty will in the show where he’s an asshole and cussing. i think its weird that none of the adaptations do a good job and showing will has a shitty marriage and has a temper and him and molly were drifting apart cuz her family hates him cuz he’s nuts and it makes him mad and sad that he cant have anything happy after hannibal. 

favourite murder tableau: probably the heart but when it unravels and starts to like stalk toward will. i think its a good metaphor of will being terrified of hannibal’s love for him

favourite blood spill: margot and alana killing mason. it made me very happy the whole time. 

what’re some of your headcanons: jimmy price has a bee keeping husband and thats why he had bee facts, will is trans and abigail is trans but they’re awkward and uncomfortable so they never feel comfortable to tell the other or how to bring it up cuz they dont want the other to think they’re more weird than they actually are, they both vent about this to hannibal who says “oh gee oh wow what a dilemma” and some shit about butterflies and doesnt help at ALL.  

this was fun!!!! im gonna tag @bisexywill cuz i think all my other hannibal mutuals were already tagged. 

[sagesolsticewrites]

The Stache Fic

Anto grows a mustache. You like it… a lot.

a/n: Happy Saturday, y’all 😊 How are we liking Manhunt so far?

Warnings: mature content (oral (f receiving), swearing, Anthony Boyle’s JWB Mustache (genuinely how the fuck did he make a Civil War-era stache look hot. I’m upset. Anthony how dare you.) (This is an 18+ fic! Minors begone!)

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“Got it!”

Your boyfriend drops the dramatic pose he had pulled with a laugh, his smile widening as you turn your phone so he could see the result.

“Oh that’s goin’ on Insta for sure,” Anthony declares with a grin.

“Just remember to give me credit,” you tease with a playful poke at his arm.

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, darling.”

He grins at you from across the table, the midmorning sun turning his brown eyes the prettiest shade of amber.

Your eyes latched onto the one new part of his appearance you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet.

The mustache he had grown for his latest role— a period drama miniseries on Apple TV.

“What is it, darling?” He asks, stroking the aforementioned facial hair nonchalantly.

“Nothing,” you say, pressing your thighs together.

You were out for a nice brunch with your boyfriend, you were not going to disrupt it by getting turned on by something as silly as a mustache. Even if it did look… very, very good on him…

You don’t realize you’re almost melting in your seat, bottom lip caught between your teeth, until Anto’s fingertips graze yours from across the table and you snap back to reality in time to see his eyes darken.

“Nothing… you sure about that, sweetness?” He says, and the way his eyes flick down to your lips then back up let you know you’ve been caught. “Y’know, I don’t think I’m quite that hungry anymore.” He says, briskly snapping his menu shut and setting it aside. “I’m thinking we should head home.”

“What—? Honey—”

He ignores your protests as the two of you stand, tossing a few bills onto the table to pay for your drinks and leaving you to give frantic apologies to the waitresses as you rush out.

“Anto, my love, what about breakfast? You need to eat—

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you as he leads you to the car.

“Besides,” he adds, scanning you up and down with a predatory look as he leans to whisper in your ear, “I’m sure I can find something much better to eat at home.”

A shiver runs through you at the implications of that, and you find yourself scrambling into the car despite your now-wobbly legs.

When you arrive home, you barely have time to toss your purse on the counter before you’re slammed against the now-closed door.

Anthony’s hands are firm on your hips, his body pressed flush against yours though his mouth remains frustratingly just out of reach.

“I know you said you liked the mustache before, angel,” he murmurs softly, “But I don’t think you were clear on exactly how much you liked it.”

He steps back for a moment, scanning your face as he taps your hip twice— a check-in.

You tap the back of his hand twice in return; you’re very okay with this, you want to keep going.

His mouth twitches up into a smile— as does that damn mustache— before stepping forward to cage you in once more.

“So,” he continues softly, pretty brown eyes locked on yours, “you gonna tell me?”

A soft whimper escapes you at the heat in his tone, and you find yourself rambling.

“Fuck, I like it so much, Anto, I like it so fucking much.”

“Hm.” He scans your face carefully, then lowers his mouth to hover just above your bare shoulder where the strap of your tank top has slipped off, “So you’ll like it when I do… this?”

His lips brush your skin, the coarse hair on his top lip adding to the sensation in ways that has wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Yes,” you breathe, “yes.”

“And this?”

His lips land on your neck next, and you once again respond in the affirmative as he leaves a series of pretty purple marks on your skin.

“What about this?”

His lips brush along your collarbone down to the tops of your breasts peeking out from the neckline of your shirt, accompanied by the light scratchiness of his mustache.

You gasp, nodding frantically as you momentarily lose the ability to form words.

His hands find the hem of your top, peeling you out of it in one swift motion. If you thought you were losing it at his lips on your neck, you were entirely unprepared for the feeling of his mouth latching onto your nipple, that fucking mustache brushing at the sensitive skin around it.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you keen, throwing your head back as his tongue swirls around you.

He pulls away with a pop to tend to your other breast, your legs turning to jello at the heated look in his eyes as you moan his name, your fingers raking through his soft curls.

Once you're almost completely weak in the knees from his ministrations, he pulls away and you barely have time to suck in a breath before his mouth crashes onto yours.

Your groan turns into a gasp, quickly swallowed by his mouth, as he effortlessly lifts you into his arms. Your mouths clash hungrily as he carries you to the bedroom, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“Fuck, Ant—” you groan as he lays you down on your bed, hovering over you as his lips travel deliciously over your body, peeling off your shorts and panties as he goes.

“What is it, angel?” He hums, pressing kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Need your mouth on me,” you whine, trying to grind up into him to release the pressure in your core.

“My mouth is on you, darling,” he says, and you can feel the smug bastard smirking as he scatters kisses all along your stomach.

“I— shit, not— you know what I mean, Anto, please.” You beg, his lips traveling even lower to brush against your hipbone, his mustache tickling your skin as he moves.

He hums, his mouth moving lower, lower, lower…

You whine, fisting the sheets, as he stops just above where you want him.

“I like hearing you beg, sweetness.” He murmurs against your skin in a low tone that has every part of you turning to pure liquid, molten chocolate eyes meeting yours, “I think you should do it again. Just so I know exactly what you want.”

With a desperate moan, the words come tumbling out of you.

“Fuck, I— I want your mouth on my pussy, baby,” you whine, squirming under the heat of his gaze and the heat of his mouth pressing chaste kisses up and down your thighs, “Want you to eat me out, please.”

“Good girl,” he mumbles against you between kisses, working his way back up your thigh, “That’s all you had to say, darling.”

There’s a flash of something predatory in his eye, and then his mouth is on you— really on you.

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as he dives in, licking deep through your folds, that fucking mustache tickling at your most sensitive parts.

You gasp, hands flying to his hair as his thumb comes up to circle your clit, licking into you like a man starved.

He lets out a groan as you tug at his roots, his hand that’s not preoccupied with making you cum digging into your thigh to keep you still.

“Fuck, you taste fucking amazing, sweet girl,” he gasps against you, breath catching as you try to tug him impossibly closer, “Shit, you really wanted this, huh?”

You can only whine in response, rendered speechless by the tension building in your core. Anthony lets out a soft chuckle at your wordlessness, making your hips buck up at the feeling.

The only sounds in the room are Anto’s murmurs of praise and your gasps and whines and moans, until his tongue brushes a soft, spongy spot inside you and your world goes white.

You come back to yourself a shuddering, gasping mess, gripping your boyfriend’s hair like a lifeline.

Realizing the strength of your grip you quickly let go, chest heaving. Anthony presses a quick kiss to your overstimulated clit, making you jump, before lifting his head to face you.

A soft “fuck” escapes you as you take in his face: pretty mouth glistening, mustache damp with your release.

He climbs back up to lay next to you as you both catch your breath.

“So,” he asks, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “you like the mustache, huh?”

“Shut up,” you swat playfully at his chest. “Yes, I do,” you say genuinely, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I’m between projects,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “How about I go and make us some breakfast? As an apology for dragging you out of brunch.”

You shake your head, nuzzling into his neck, “Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

“Alright, my love,” he replies, smiling as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “Whatever you want.”

[austeenbootler]

croz fic you say?! i am SEATED

i’m about to eat dry wall i’m so fucking deadass right now wtf

why would you point this out @precious-little-scoundrel 😭😭😭😭

[xxanaduwrites]

much ado about nothing, major

giving — ii. bluell & blue skies — core!

coming soon <3

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

@major-mads

[daily-snitch]

The Daily Snitch: Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Follow the Daily Snitch on LJ, DW, IJ, and on tumblr. Fantastic Beasts – Actors and Movies: • Dan Fogler’s ‘Fantastic Beasts’ Panel at LeakyCon 2018 HP & The Cursed Child – Actors and Stage: • Theater Round-Up: Anthony Boyle and Sam Clemmett Interviews, Noma Dumezweni’s ‘Black Earth Rising’ Trailer and More! • From “Cursed Child” to Christie: Anthony Boyle in “Ordeal by Innocence” • Sam Clemmett Reveals That He Initially Found Albus Potter Unlikable! Prompt Challenges: • hogwarts365: PROMPT 257 - Due on or before 25 August Communities: • hp_nextgen_fest: 2018 Prompt List • hd_owlpost: Spread the Word! • hp_nextgen_fest: Claiming Post for HP Next Gen Fest • snape_potter: Announcing Secret Snarry Swap 2018 • snape_potter: Prompting for Secret Snarry Swap Masterlists and Weekly Round-ups: • hogwarts365: PROMPT 256 MASTERLIST • hp_crossgenfest: HP CROSS GEN FEST 2018: WEEKLY ROUNDUP #2 • hphet: Round up, week two • wolfstarbigbang: Wolfstar Big Bang - Week Four Fandom Recs: • lijahlover recced four Harry/Draco fics. • dreamy_dragon73 recced one Severus/Hermione fic. • themightyflynn recced one Severus/Harry fic. Resources: • snape_potter: SS/HP Prophet for August 12 - August 18 • potterfests: Coming Up in Potterfests! • hd_prophet: Sunday 19th August 2018 Essay/Meta: • Solving the Horcrux Mystery • Unfogging the Future: Foreshadowing in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” – Part 2 • Mus’ Love Dragons an’ the Like: Hogwarts Dating Ads • The Most Memorable Tracks from “Potter” Scores 5–8 • Three Things I Understand Better About “Harry Potter” After Visiting the UK General Fandom News: • “Hogwarts Mystery” Players Are Now Able to Become Hogwarts Prefects! • Guest Post: Wizarding World Review • Warner Bros. Studio Tour London announces return of Hogwarts After Dark events in Oct Searches: • daily_snitch: looking for your recs (fic, art, podfic, meta ...) for the Special Edition: Newt Scamander. Community Spotlight: ♥ hogwartsishome - Do you love Harry Potter? Do you love to draw, solve puzzles, write drabbles, and/or make graphics? Do you wish Pottermore had... well, more? Are you looking for a way to get back into LiveJournal, but aren't sure how? Please send your fandom news to the Daily Snitch.

[winniemaywebber]

Hello, sweetie! I was wondering if you, Sage, and Gina could team up and maybe, if you have time and want to, write a Nate Mann fic? Like all the Anthony Boyle fics Sage has in her master list? I don’t know, but that GIF of Nate Mann in that brown suit doing that hand gesture, or the other one where his chest hair is visible and he says thank you, has been giving me more unholy thoughts than a sinner in a chocolate factory 😂

Thank you 😊

hi darling!!!

I think we absolutely could and we'd have SUCH fun doing that. we're currently in the chaos of world building for each fic that's connected (we've literally made our own little MoTA alternate world which we are in love with) but once we've got that done, I'm sure we can write something like this for you and whomever else wants it 🥰🩷

(also, yes. that gif of him is INSANELY hot and I've been feral over it for days. everyone say thank you manon)

[shiphitsthefan]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Rating: Mature Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia Du Maurier, Alana Bloom, and Freddie Lounds; featuring Cassie Boyle and Marissa Schurr; special guest appearances by Dr. Frederick Chilton and Anthony Dimmond Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Minor Character Death, Author Will Graham, Fanboy Hannibal Lecter, Obsessive Behavior, Revenge, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal Writes Fanfiction, Bryan Fuller Broke the Fourth Wall and So Can I, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Incidental Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Psychopaths In Love

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue.

[h4nnibalism]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia Du Maurier, Alana Bloom, Freddie Lounds, Featuring - Character, Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, special guest appearances by, Dr. Frederick Chilton, and - Character, Anthony Dimmond Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Minor Character Death, Author Will Graham, Fanboy Hannibal Lecter, Obsessive Behavior, Revenge, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal Writes Fanfiction, Bryan Fuller Broke the Fourth Wall and So Can I, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Incidental Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Psychopaths In Love Summary:

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

***

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue.

[ao3feed-chilton]

They Came to Florence or: Plagiarize This Fic

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2qGl6Z8

by shiphitsthefan

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

***

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue.

Words: 5122, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Hannibal (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia Du Maurier, Alana Bloom, Freddie Lounds, Featuring - Character, Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, special guest appearances by, Dr. Frederick Chilton, and - Character, Anthony Dimmond

Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Minor Character Death, Author Will Graham, Fanboy Hannibal Lecter, Obsessive Behavior, Revenge, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal Writes Fanfiction, Bryan Fuller Broke the Fourth Wall and So Can I, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Incidental Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Psychopaths In Love

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2qGl6Z8

[sagesolsticewrites]

Lipstick Kisses

The sweetest spiciest Anthony fic y'all ever saw 🥺🫠 written by my bestie Winnie! (complete with a playlist!!!) @winniemaywebber

Warnings: mature content (fingering, oral (f receiving), PinV penetration, car sex), paparazzi being annoying, Anto being the sweet sexy dork he is (18+! Minors begone, etc etc)

“Almost ready for home, pretty girl?” 

“Mhm,” you slur, placing your half full glass back on the table. “With you? Always.” You smile at him, his brown eyes shining in the dim light of the bar. You walk the two steps between you both and place your hands on his beautiful face, taking in every part of him. Before you can stop yourself, you're kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Scrunching his face up, but not stopping you, he giggles lightly. 

“You're so pretty, baby,” you murmur, trying to come up for air. “How on earth did this happen? You and me?” He shakes his head, clutching you close to him and smiling, the light once again catching a glint in his eye. 

“You know how, darling. You swept me off my feet.” He kisses you lightly on the forehead and takes your hand to exit the bar. 

Outside, you're both surprised by a hubbub of photographers. 

“Ah, shit,” he says, hesitating at the door. You feel his hand tighten around yours as he bends at the knee to come to your height to make eye contact with you. With his free hand, he touches your cheek and looks at you reassuringly. 

“We'll be quick, we'll run through and we'll be in the car before you know it. Breathe, okay?”

“Okay,” you squeak, knowing he'll keep you safe. “Anto, wait! Your face, my lipstick is all over it!”

“Oh, well. Gives them something to talk about.” He winks at you as he opens the door, taking his usual position in front of you, your protector, his tall body blocking you from most of the cameras. 

He was right: two minutes later, you're at his car, both breathless from the adrenaline and rushing through the solid crowd. You wait by the passenger door, turning to face him. He takes you by surprise when he walks up to you, places his hands on the car roof almost pinning you against the vehicle, and kisses you deeply, your breathlessness thick in the night air.

“Darlin’,” he starts, talking in between kisses. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Hmmm,” you joke, smiling underneath his mouth. “No, you never ever tell me. Maybe you should,” you tease, feeling him almost growl in front of you as he adjusts his body weight. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in even closer.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his lips catching yours at every possible chance. “You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And you're mine.” 

“Yes,” you giggle. “All yours.” With that, he opens the door and waits for you to be seated before he closes it. 

He takes his usual position: one hand on the steering wheel, the other placed gently on your thigh. But tonight, his hands are drifting, further and further up the skirt of your dress, softly caressing the skin, his hand almost brushing your panties. 

“Sir,” you flirtingly scold. “What are you up to?” You take a sharp intake of breath as his hand reaches even further up your skirt at a red light, feeling how wet you are just from his touch. 

“Oh…” He growls, an undertone of surprise lingering in his voice. “Do we really have to wait to get home?”

“No,” you answer quickly, the fastest answer that's ever left your lips. He cheekily smiles at you as he figures out a detour. 

The car stops abruptly, apparently at the chosen destination. In one swift movement, he's turned off the engine, pulled the passenger seat into a lying position and is on top of you. Your breath shudders as he eases his body on to yours, making sure to evenly distribute his weight in the cramped space. He kisses you deeply, sending shivers up your spine as he places his hand on your neck. 

“Still ready for me?”

“Ugh, darling. Even from looking at you, I'm in pieces.” He grins.

“Good girl.” 

You whimper as he praises you, his kisses going from your jaw, to your neck and lower. You feel him gently pull your dress up, and move your soaked, ruined panties to the side. He slips a finger into you and watches you unravel at his touch.

“There’s my girl. There you go,” his voice barely above a whisper. His breath matching yours, his glistening fingers working their way in and out of you, him gleefully looking on as you absolutely lose it underneath him. 

“Wow…you're doing so good. Just like that. Again. Again, baby.” You whimper at his words, trying your best to do as you're told - not like it's hard. He makes you O again and again until your legs feel like jelly and your vision is blurry. 

Slipping his fingers out of you, he gently eases you up to put your seat in the regular position. You wipe your brow and puff out air, hardly believing this is your life. You can barely keep your hands off him as he drives, speeding to your place. 

As you struggle with the key, adrenaline rushing through you as your door finally opens, he picks you up, still kissing you with the same urgency as he had in the car. Your legs wrap around him as he carries you over to the bed, where he sits you down and begins undressing himself without missing a beat. Taking it as a cue, you do the same, pulling your shoes off as quickly as you can, throwing your tight black dress over your head, revealing the black and pink lingerie you had so carefully chosen should this moment take place. 

He looks up and down your whole body as you lean back on the bed, your head resting on the pillow, your eyes hungrily gazing at his naked body. The soft pale skin, the patch of chest hair that drives you wild.

“Jesus fuck,” he murmurs, walking over to you. “You are fuckin’ beautiful.” He climbs on top of you as you giggle at his compliment, the gorgeous cologne smell radiating from him as your bodies meet, the heat from both of you causing a gasp to leave both your mouths. He lifts you up and unclips your bra, it taking minimal effort. He kisses your neck as you lay back down, his mouth getting further down your body to find your nipple. He places it in his mouth, sucking ever so gently as he sees your body lift and buckle in pleasure. Making his way further down, he removes your panties, seeing how glistening and ready you still are for him. 

“Wow,” he purrs. “She's so pretty.” He slowly enters a finger into you again,  looking on intently as your face contorts in pleasure, taking your breath away. 

“Sweet Lord,” you gasp, feeling your eyes roll back in your head. He laughs mischievously, opening your legs with his elbow and going down to kiss your thighs. You can feel his breath on your vulva every time he goes near it, making you suck your breath through your teeth in anticipation.

“Quit teasing me,” you moan. “I'll fucking die if you don't fuck me soon.” He makes his way over again, holding his face there for just a moment, wanting to make eye contact as he gently, teasingly, licks your clit. You gasp, surprising yourself with the sound and slapping a hand over your mouth in shock.

“No, baby,” he says, gently removing your hand from your mouth. “I wanna hear every noise.” You nod as he resumes his position, his tongue now flat so he can lap you up. “I wanna drown between your thighs.” 

Within minutes, you have almost reached your peak, him slipping two fingers inside you and finding your g-spot as he watches you make a mess of yourself. 

“Oh, wow,” he purrs, wiping his mouth. “Good girl.” You whimper, staring again into his deep, dark brown eyes. 

“Whew. Let me be inside you. I need to be inside you.” 

“Mhm,” you reply, your voice up a few octaves higher than you're used to. You realize your eyes are begging for him, looking desperate for him to fill you up. Biting your lip, the waiting ceases. 

In one smooth movement, he does, you both groaning deeply as he enters you. Your hands on his lower back, scratching gently. His, one on your breast and the other on the bed to keep balance. Two minutes of him pumping in and out of you, you come again, warm liquid seeping out of you and trickling on to the bed. 

“Good God, beautiful,” he murmurs, picking up the speed of his strokes. “Messy girl.” You bite your lip at his words and moan again as he takes you to your peak for the third time in less than twenty minutes, feeling your vision go fuzzy. Grinning at you, he beckons you on top of him. He lays on the bed and you climb on, feeling him fill you once again. The tip of his cock instantly hits your g-spot, making you shout in ecstacy. He sits up, kissing your neck as you ride him to the completion he's been craving.

“Wow….fuck,” he says breathlessly. “I can't hold on much longer….I wanna keep going…you're so fuckin' divine.” His breathless words in your ear send a shiver down your spine as you feel him tense up, finishing deep inside you. Feeling his release, you squeal loudly as he lets himself fill you, simultaneously orgasming with him. Breathlessly, foreheads pressed together, you stay in that position for what feels like an eternity. 

He sighs, reaching up and stroking your face, moving the hair out of your eyes. 

“I fuckin’ adore you, angel girl.”

“Ditto, my love.”