#he tans a little bit i swear he does

[ermesskiss]

i believe in tan suguru, the only way I can and will picture him

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | pt. ii

You take a sip of your morning coffee and almost spit it out on your dashboard.

This could not be your order. It was so… unusually sugary. Too sugary. Like someone liquified a whole candy store and shoved it into a venti cup.

Still reeling a little from the overly sweet aftertaste that lingers on your tongue, your eyes trail down to read:

Vt Crml Crnch Frap

5 Banana

Ex Caramel Drizzle

Extra Whip

Extra Ice

Ex Cinnamon

7 pumps Add Dk Crml Sauce

Ex Caramel Crunch

1 pump Honey Blend

Heavy Cream

Double Blended

What kind of pretentious asshole orders this garbage? Were their taste buds dead?

You mentally sent your condolences to the poor person that had to make this disgusting monstrosity of a drink. Please, you would’ve taken one look at the order and thrown it in the trash.

Your eyes searched the paper cup for who your local coffee shop transgressor was– catching sight of a scribble in blue marker reading “H-A.” You moved your hand a bit to reveal a “W-K-S.” A sense of dread creeps in as you numbly stare at the squiggly heart next to it.

It was like someone slipped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.

You had mistakenly picked up the wildly famous winged pro hero’s order and to make things even worse, put your mouth on where his was supposed to be.

Okay that sounded kind of dirty. But it’s not like you could drive back and return it now, what with your lip gloss already staining the lid.

Hey, um, I think I accidentally took a sip of the Hawks’s coffee? Oopsies? You guess you could pay for his order to be remade, but who’s to say he’ll even come back for it, much less accept it from some random stranger?

You were already running late to your desk job as is, and your coworkers were probably scratching their heads, wondering where you were since you always arrived at least half an hour before them. Should you just throw it away and pretend it never happened?

Oh god, would some person dig through the trash the moment you turned your back and extract your DNA from your lip gloss on the lid, thinking you were a deranged fan who stole his drink on purpose?

Or worse—that you were his secret girlfriend picking up his drink who had just wanted a little taste first before delivering it to him?

Your brain starts to wring itself dry of all the possibilities that could happen, shuddering despite each one being as unlikely as the next. An impressive mental workout for an un-caffeinated person at barely eight in the morning.

You wish you never even went to get your usual little treat today. That barista definitely looked right at you when you went to pick up your order, you swear they did.

But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe they were looking at the person standing behind you that you didn’t see as you rushed out of the shop? How do you even miss a man with wings that big?

Something gently knocks on the driver side window and you almost jump out of your seat.

As you roll it down with caution, your brain momentarily stops functioning as you’re met with a pair of striking golden eyes. Another inch of tinted glass down, a strong Grecian nose.

Forget work, the hell. You didn’t even know noses could be that pretty, and as your last bit of window disappears into the car so does your self-respect as you realize he’s abandoned his usual tan-colored jacket, standing before you in his black compression shirt with gold embossment.

Forget everything, actually.

You don't realize you’re holding your breath until he laughs at you, and you sheepishly close your slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know coffee thieves came this cute.” Drinking in your appearance his keen eyes stray from yours, slowly trailing down to your trembling lips, a stark contrast to the growing smirk on his. “Or this nervous.”

His fingers drum absentmindedly on the side of your car door, clear amusement written across his handsome face as he waits for you to say something. You collect yourself and snap out of your thoughts, taking a deep breath.

“I’msososorryIdrankyourcoffee!” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as your words come out in a jumble. “I totally grabbed the wrong order and I can’t believe I didn’t see you waiting behind me, I swear I’m not a creep–”

“Hey, hey,” Hawks gently interrupts you, reassurance laced in his voice. “It’s all good, no harm done.” He taps the paper cup that somehow miraculously hasn’t slipped out of your fingers yet.

“Sooo was it good?”

You choke on air, not expecting that. “Your drink?”

“Yeah, my drink.” He shoots you a cheeky grin. That bastard. “Good or nah?” You pause, contemplating if you should lie–no. No, today you chose honesty.

“...Genuinely, I have no idea how you drink this shit.”

Hawks laughs at your bold answer. “Thanks for being my little taste tester anyways. Too sweet, huh?” The tip of his finger traces around the remnants of your lip gloss on the lid, the cup still in your now slightly shaky hand as you nod.

His touch seared against your skin, as his pretty fingers closed around yours to raise the drink up to his lips to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving your own.

With a gaze that was infuriatingly sultry as it was sweet, like a bird of prey beckoning a field mouse to be their next meal, he murmurs, “Just how I like it.”

You’re not really sure he was talking about the coffee anymore.

He hums, and your thighs involuntarily clench a bit as his soft-looking mouth closes around the opening of the lid to take another sip.

“I’d say you’re a villain that deserves their own special category.” He grins, eyes sparkling conspiratorially. “One that involves letting me take her out to dinner.”

If you weren’t sitting down you know your legs would have given out. “Like… like on a date?” You gape at him incredulously. Because there was no way. Hawks. Just asked you out.

“Now sweetheart, what else would it be?” Hawks smirks at your dazed expression, like you’re sure you misheard him. So cute. “I mean, unless you don’t want to–”

“No!” He blinks, and your hand flies to cover your mouth at your sudden outburst.

“I-I mean, I want to…” You shyly say at a much quieter volume, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. He leans closer to you with a grin, languidly resting his folded arms over the open frame of your car door.

“It’s a date then. I know this really good sushi and ramen place down the block near my agency, my treat of course.”

“If I’m a villain is this your idea of rehabilitation?” You joke dryly. “Because it’s working.”

He tips your chin up. “Oh don’t worry pretty, I’m just getting started with turning you into a good girl.” A hot flush creeps up your neck to your cheeks, and you almost melt into a puddle right then and there at your steering wheel.

“I’d love to stay but I’m actually so late for work right now.” You utter weakly, chin still resting against his finger. Hawks tilts his head at that, unfolding his vibrant crimson wings as he wordlessly opens the front door of your car.

With little effort and an impressive flex of his biceps, plus a sharp intake of breath from you, one of his arms slips under your thighs and another firmly hugs you just under your shoulder blades as he lifts you up to his firm chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels your flustered arms hastily reach up to wrap around his neck. Honeyed eyes like molten gold meet yours as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh through your pencil skirt, and once again you find yourself needing a reminder to breathe.

“So, where to?”

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“IS THAT FUCKING HAWKS OUTSIDE OUR COMPANY’S BUILDING?!”

say you can’t sleep, baby i know, that’s that me expresso~ ♪

[poisonhyuck]

video game lover - l.hc

when ur bf haechan is too busy playing games to pay attention to u so u suck him off :3

cw: smut (duh), blowjob, swallowing, unprotected sex, dick riding, slight degration, afab reader, hc forgets to pull out, gamer!haechan, anxiousattachment!reader

"I swear I'll come to bed after this game just give me a moment." haechan said, hands moving across the keyboard as he continued to play his favourite game, overwatch.

"you said that 30 minutes ago..." you huffed.

haechan knows it all too well, how you can't sleep without him due to anxiety. but sometimes he just wants to stay up playing with his friends.

"mhm, yeah." he responded, obviously not even paying attention to what you said.

its not really a problem for you when haechan does his own thing, he deserves time alone. but recently he's doing it constantly and you don't think you could stand staying up until 4am another night waiting for him to come to bed.

haechan was sitting back in his gaming chair, the light from the computer shining on his bare face, his eyes glued to the screen, not daring to move a muscle.

"baby.. I'm tired.." you whined, your last resort being guilt tripping and acting all cute.

to your surprise, he was too engrossed in the game to even register your words. he kept cursing under his breath and making little grunts as he played.

your mind pondered, what could get his attention..? or even better, what would make him come to bed..?

too lost in thought, your phone fell to the ground, bouncing on the carpet and landing under haechans desk.

"shit."

you slowly crawled under haechans desk, trying to retrieve the phone without startling him or getting caught.

as you grabbed the device, you realised haechans crotch was dangerously close to your face as you turned back.

the way his tan legs rested made you feel things you shouldn't be feeling at all.

you wanted to crawl out and wait for haechan but you were impatient. and so was the growing heat inbetween your legs.

you gently tugged at his navy shorts, but he didn't budge, causing you to pull so hard they came off.

of course, a shocked haechan peered down at you from above.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he whispered, covering his mic.

"what do u mean?" you glared at him innocently.

haechan quickly raised his head as a new match began, his attention to you now nonexistent.

you slid down his boxers, his soft cock sitting infront of you.

he ignored u, too busy with his game.

your hand cupped him gently and as if on command, he was already getting a bit hard.

your lips wrapped around his hardening dick, taking as much as you could in your mouth until you were about to gag.

your head bobbed up and down slowly, looking up at haechan to see how he was reacting.

as expected, he was still paying to attention to you, but he gently bit his lip and that was enough for you.

you started to be a bit more fierce and bob your head faster, the scene almost looking as if it came out of a porno.

"one second boys. I- fuck.. I have to go do something." he practically whimpered, his voice shaky and desperate.

haechans left hand suddenly reached down and yanked your hair before thrusting up harshly into your mouth.

his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag hard, but he didn't slow down.

"you.. you bitch.. is this what u want.. huh? you want all my attention..? I hope you know that.. that was probably the last time.. me and the guys get to game.. until.. next month.. now you fucking.. ruined it.." his words stung as hard as the precum stirring in your mouth.

you couldn't even talk, his dick stuffed in your mouth, being forced to take him roughly.

your gagging turned into choking as his sperm shot into your mouth.

"swallow.." he said, lifting your chin to make you look at him.

haechan was never really this rough during intimacy, but when you really pissed him off.. oh you're getting it

you obediently swallowed his warm, sticky cum, making a face of disgust whilst doing so.

"I'm sorry.." you managed to say, your knees hurting from keeping them against the rough material of the carpet for so long.

"no.. its fine. I know I haven't been giving you much attention recently."

"don't apologise." you whispered, gently pushing his chair back and standing up.

haechan pulled you down onto his lap, his again hardening dick pressing against your clothed, but wet kitty.

he began to leave a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck.

you tilted your head back immediately, giving him more access to your neck.

"y/n.."

"hm?"

"can you ride me?" he spoke gently between kisses.

"yes."

the words left your lips immediately without any thought or consideration.

he struggled to unbutton your long, flared jeans because of how excited he was. he never admitted it but he's imagined you fucking him on his gaming chair way too many times.

you threw your jeans across the room along with your soaked underwear.

you didn't hesitate to sit on him immediately, his throbbing dick slowly entering your wetness, a moan escaping both of you.

"it's been too long." haechan mumbled, holding onto your hips, already impatient.

you moved back and forth, grinding your hips together before taking his headphones off and throwing them against the floor.

somehow, haechan didn't care at all, instead he moved his hips up against yours, matching your pace and encouraging you to go further.

his whines and heavy breathing filled the room, you've barely even started and he already sounds like he's about to cry.

"faster.." he whimpered, voice perfectly replicating a spoiled brat.

but you listened of course, moving harder until your bodies made a continuous wet noise.

his hands traveled to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"so tight.. I'm gonna cum.. fuck-" you cut him off with a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss, also approaching your high as well as him.

his gaming chair made a slight squeaking noise everytime your hips moved forward, the sound only bringing you even closer.

"haech pull ou-" before you could even finish your sentence, he filled you with his sweet cum, causing you to cum on his dick.

"oh shit I'm so sorry I just couldn't pull out.." he panted.

"It's fine it's fine. I'll just take plan b." you got off him with a wet popping sound before making your way over to the bathroom to clean up.

haechan lifted up his headphones from the ground to put them in charge, but a small noise was coming from them.

he froze when he put on the headphones, realising that johnny, mark, taeyong and jaehyun were there the entire time.

"y/n?" he called out,

"I forgot to mute my mic.."

[lis-likes-fics]

Delicious

Pairings: demon!Natasha x Reader Word Count: 5.5k words Prompt: Demon AU Warnings: NSFW, corruption kink, fingering, oral (f! receiving), multiple orgasms, strap-on, swearing... A/N: This is late and it's not very good. This would have been so much better but I have ADHD brain and I had to rush this a bit. Sorry, guys. But I hope you still like it! Thank you!

Natasha had never been in this shop before.

Drawn to a strange feeling coming from within, she wanders inside the little cafe and stares at its warm tones, letting her eyes wander the wall of books, the tables and booths, the counter where a beautiful waitress talks to a customer. She lays eyes on you and can feel the mischief twisting in her gut.

You are perfect.

The light that surrounds you is a beacon of…purity. Your tan apron wraps securely around your body, your hair is out of your face, your smile is brighter than the sun and snow outside. She can taste the innocence oozing off your skin like honey from a honey dipper.

You are radiant, and he can’t wait to hold you in her hands and see how dark she can make you.

A dark and charming grin spreads over her red lips as she walks up to the counter, waiting for you to give your warm goodbye to the last customer and offer a warm hello to the next. She steps forward and swears she could get drunk off your virtue.

You give her a bright smile, and she can see it shining in your eyes too. “Hi! What can I get ya?”

Natasha lets her green eyes wander the menu for only a moment, turning her gaze back to you as she speaks slowly, deeply, letting her rasp wash over you like a siren to a sailor. “I’ll have a mocha.”

You nod, picking up your notepad and a permanent marker to write her order as you take in the sight of her face. She’s beautiful. “And what size would you like that in?”

“Grande.”

You pick up the cup, nodding as you do. “Anything else?”

She looks you up and down, drinking you in some more before gauging what it does to you. You seem almost fidgety, flustered. She grins. “What do you recommend?”

“Well,” you chuckle lightly, “I am a sucker for our Christmas special—the gingersnaps. I shape them like little Christmas trees.” You illustrate your words as you pull your hands up to form a triangle, the closest you can get to the tree.

She raises her brows. “Oh, so you make them?”

You nod proudly, smiling widely as you set your hands on the counter. “I do!”

She hums. You’re adorable. “I’ll take it.”

“Alright-y! Will that be all for you?”

“It will,” she nods simply.

You grab her cup size and clutch the permanent marker. “And what’s the name on that order?”

“Natasha,” she purrs, watching you closely and letting her gaze openly drink you in to see how you’ll react. You’re so flustered already, practically melting at the sultry nature of her voice. “But I think Nat will do just fine.”

You start writing the name, “Nat” in pretty script. “Alright, Natasha. A grande mocha and gingersnaps coming right up!” You say her name like warm icing on cinnamon rolls, letting it drip over your skin like melted caramel. You look at her and smile fondly, shyly, your head tilted slightly down but your eyes glancing up at her nervously. “You have…a beautiful name, by the way.”

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head gently. You're hypnotized. “I can't tell if you're flirting or if you're just that nice.”

“O-Oh!” you say, your eyes widening slightly as she catches you by surprise. “Oh, I'm a really bad flirt.” You meet her eyes again and she sees you panic for a moment as you raise your hands. “W-Well, not to say you're not worth flirting with! I think you're very pretty—gorgeous, even. You're very—You're really–!”

She cuts you off with a hearty laugh, reaching a hand out to gently grab your own as she offers you an almost sly grin. “Relax, sweetness,” she bids. “I think you're absolutely delicious, too.”

“O-Oh,” you sigh, smiling as she eases your nerves. Then you realize, “Delicious?”

“Did I say delicious?” She shakes her head gently as if to say “silly me”. She pats your hand lightly before removing her soft fingers from you. She never looks away from your face. “I meant delightful.”

You nod before you speak. Natasha can't help but think how adorable you are, like the purest angel—but how they are in the movies, not the ones stuck up her ass all the time, calling her pest and rodent and vermin.

No. You would never say something so harsh. She can see it in you, the purest diamond. She wants to break you.

“Okay,” you speak softly—and you're so naïve, she thinks for a moment that you heard her thoughts and were offering yourself up to such exploitations.

She licks her bottom lip subtly. She can almost taste your honey. “What was my total?”

You seem to snap out of whatever thoughts run through your mind. “Well…” you clear your throat, “since you're so nice and I own this place… I'll give you the cookies on the house and bring your total down some.” You lean in, and she thinks you'll wink. “Our secret.”

She doesn't know if she thinks you're capable of holding secrets. But she's been around humankind so much, she knows there's always a secret lurking around the corner. You all just can't help yourselves…

“Nonsense,” she shakes her head. “I'd hate to do that to you.”

You smile gently. “Come on. Let me do this. You've been so nice.”

She scoffs gently, not offendedly. “Nice isn't a word people usually associate with me.”

You tilt your head, genuinely curious as to how someone so sweet could never be called “nice”. “What do they usually use?”

With a dark glint in her pretty green eyes, she smiles. “Sinful.”

“Sinful?” you mutter.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I've got a bit of a…mischievous streak.”

You smile sweetly. “And I like giving pretty girls free cookies.”

Natasha sighs, looking you up and down for the sole reason of flustering you again. “Well,” she says, “at least accept this big tip.”

“Tip?” you tilt your head.

“For a beautiful girl like you.”

She's done it. You clear your throat and nod. “O-Oh. Okay,” you say, watching her pull out her wallet. When she pulls out a hefty $50 bill, your eyes widen and you look like you'll have a heart attack. “Oh, this is too much! I can't accept this!”

She makes a pouty face, gazing at you with those pretty green eyes. She leans forward, and you feel yourself crumbling at the sight of her. “Oh, but you would break my heart if you didn't.” She slides the bill over and smiles, still presenting her puppy dog eyes as she lowers her voice. “You don't want to break my heart…do you?”

No. Never. How could you ever break the heart of someone so…her?

“I…” your teeth graze your bottom lip as you think to yourself before ultimately giving in. “Okay.” You slowly reach your hand out and hesitantly grab the bill, clearing your throat and feeling a little clammy for accepting the money as you put it in the pocket of your apron.

She smiles, but it's more like a smirk, a devilish curl of the lips that you don't quite label as dangerous, like you should.

“Good girl,” she purrs.

You don't know why that has such an effect on you. You feel yourself go limp but you stay standing as your eyes flutter and you feel the need to clear your throat again.

“While I'm in the charitable spirit,” Natasha says, satisfied with your obedience, “why don't you go out with me sometime? Got any Christmas plans?”

Your face is warm, the tips of your ears burn with the idea of going out with such a beautiful creature. As you think of your holiday plans, you shake your head. “Uhm, n-no.” Why can't you seem to speak today?

“No?” she says, her face drenched in surprise. “No dinner with family, an outing with friends?” She finds it hard to believe that a sweet girl like you has nothing to do for the biggest holiday season of the year.

But it's hard to have friends when you're all the way in New York and your family is all the way in California and all your friends are visiting their families or have their own friends to be with.

So, no… no plans for you.

“No,” you smile, almost sadly. “Nothing for me this year.”

Natasha almost thinks she's taking pity on you when she asks this, rather than forming her own plan to taint your white ledger.

“Well, I've got no plans. You've got no plans.” She smiles and reaches her hand out to brush your fingers. “Let's fix that.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

She nods, pleased with you. “I'll meet you here, then. Seven o'clock, Christmas day. Dress to impress.”

You smile sweetly. “Always do.”

“I can see that,” she says, looking you up and down with an appreciative glance.

You smile widely, a grand smile that puts the sun to shame. “I'll have your order right out.” You pick up your pen and dot the notepad you have her order written on.

Natasha nods before turning and walking toward a tiny table by the window, the morning light still pouring in, even as the morning slowly dwindles into noon. She watches you as you work, her eyes glued to your body as she follows you everywhere.

You really are just so…pure. She was thinking it may have been a façade to make the customers feel welcome, but one look at you, one sniff of your perfume, one word from your sweet lips and she knew you were sweet as sugar. Pure.

She hasn't met someone this pure in a very long time, if ever.

And you would taste divine.

“Nat.”

Her name said by such honey-tainted lips pulls her from her thoughts. She rises from her seat and makes her way to you once more.

Your smile is already ready, and just so sweet. “I hope you enjoy. Thank you for coming and…” you smile, biting your lip briefly, “I'll see you soon.”

“Thank you…” Her gaze darts down to your nametag, reading the letters one-by-one to savor the taste of it. She says your name like she's making love to it. You shudder. “Beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” you speak, your voice so soft and gracious she could have mistaken it for a whimper.

Natasha grabs the cup and the box of cookies, her fingers intentionally brushing yours as she speaks. “Christmas day. Seven. Don't forget.”

You shake your head. “I won't.”

She smiles. “Goodbye, angel.”

You nod quickly, too excited to see her again. “Bye, Nat.”

She walks out of the little cafe, her treats in hand. She lets the door close behind her, lets the bell ring about her head. Once she's out of the coffee shop but still in your view, she takes a sip of her scorching hot coffee like it's nothing and sighs. Even the coffee is as pure as you, perhaps because it was made by such hands.

She turns her head to see you watching her through the window and just nods. She watches your fluster, nodding proudly back to her before trying to look busy.

She can't wait to devour you.

~

You don't know how you got here, with your back pressed to your bedroom wall, with Natasha's hands smoothing underneath your shirt to touch the bare skin of your waist, with your lips molding perfectly with her own like they were made to fit together.

You'd gotten to the cafe an hour early, pretending—even to yourself—to tidy the place since you were closed for the holiday. Natasha showed up five minutes late, but fashionably so. She was beautiful; a pretty blouse red as blood, dark slacks tight around her waist and loose the rest of the way down, a black coat draped down past her knees.

The air was knocked from your lungs. She was beautiful.

Her eyes examined you, and she was impressed. You wore a short, long-sleeved, cream-colored dress and skin-colored tights to fight the cold. An angel.

She’d taken your hand and kissed the back of it, telling you how beautiful you were—though you swear you heard her say “delicious” again.

Then she took you to dinner. It was a nice restaurant, somewhere cozy with really good food. She paid for your food and for dessert, and you told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then she took you ice skating. She held your hand the whole time and paid for you, and you told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then she took you on a late night walk through the park. She held your hand and kept you close and told you that the moon looked beautiful on your skin. You told her she didn't have to, but she insisted.

Then when she walked you home, telling you how beautiful you were at the doorstep and taking your hands and pulling you in for a gentle kiss, you smiled and kissed her back. Then she kept kissing you, and you kept kissing back.

And it turned into you opening your door and letting her inside, kissing her some more and offering her coffee, only to have her tell you that she had everything she needed right here.

Hands wandered, then lips wandered, then she pressed you into the wall, and now she's got you laid out on your bed, still fully dressed and so, so hot.

She leans over you, inhaling the scent of your perfume with a sigh as she keeps kissing you. You hold her, your arms wrapped securely around her neck to keep her close.

Her teeth graze your lip, struggling to refrain from biting so hard, she draws the sweet syrup of your blood. You lean into her touch, keening against her and longing to savor the flavor of her name on your lips as you whisper, “Natasha.”

She wraps her hand around your throat as her mouth trails down to your neck, to your collarbone, feeling your pulse beating rapidly under the skin. Her teeth sink into your flesh, and she chuckles deeply when your breath hitches.

She could just as easily crush your windpipe if she wanted to. She could snap her fingers, and you'd be reduced to nothing but a pile of ash and bone.

But where was the fun in that?

No, she would savor you. She would lick your skin and taste the sweet ambrosia you'd create all for her. She would carve her name into your flesh with the bite of her claws. She would sink her sharp teeth to the bone. She would make you scream until the only word you knew were the letters of her name.

Her hand dips low under your dress, gripping your thigh as she slowly moves it up, up, up, her fingers digging into your skin as she does. Your eyes flutter shut, resorting to just feeling her as she touches you any way she likes. She hums deep in her throat as she pulls back to look at you, riding your dress up and pulling your leggings down so she can see the pretty panties you wore for her.

“Mm,” she sighs. “You look delicious, darling.”

Your tiny chuckle comes out as a breathy moan. “Don’t you mean,” you whimper slightly as her sharp nails dig into your skin as they make their way down your leg, the stinging sensations exciting you more than she initially thought. Corrupting you will be easy. “Don’t you mean ‘delightful’?”

Her hand around your throat tightens just a slight, not enough to constrict any airflow, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of her palm against your skin. “No,” she rasps. “I mean delicious.”

She manages to get your tights off, humming appreciatively at your lacey panties before ripping those off your body instead. You gasp lightly but say nothing else, allowing her to do as she wishes as you sit back and enjoy it.

Your hips jerk when her thumb teases the skin of your mound, dipping between your thighs just enough to press it lightly to your clit. Your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling in quick succession as she presses her thumb so lightly, you wonder if she’s actually touching you. She teases you like this for a moment, feather-light touches that make you so desperate for her.

“Tasha,” you whimper. “Please, I need you.”

Her eyes glint at the way you plead for her. Already, you’ve begun to beg. You’re so responsive, so sensitive to her touch. One would think you were untouched, but no… She would be able to smell that off you, and she smells that this is not the first time someone has been between your legs.

How precious you are. Tainted but still so unspoiled.

The pad of her middle finger grazes your slit, teasing you further as your body keens for her touch. “Say it one more time for me, baby,” she whispers in your ear. “Say it. ‘Please, I need you.’ Lemme hear it.”

You whine gently, letting one hand travel to her hair to let your fingers card through the softness of her red locks. You let your bottom lip pass between your teeth before you gladly obey her. “Please,” you whisper, lifting your hips to meet her. “I need you.”

Proud of herself, and of you, she slips her finger inside of you, sheathing it in the warmth and wetness of your body. You hum, closing your eyes. “How is that, angel?” she smiles, watching your eyes dart behind your closed lids.

You nod, parting your lips as a breath passes through them. “Yes.”

She grins devilishly. “Good girl.” She rewards you with another finger in the tightness of your slickening pussy. You reward her with another little whimper. She pumps them slowly, in and out of you, pushing them deep to feel every little part of you before allowing herself to pull out and do it again.

She curls her fingers inside of you, a come hither motion making your lips round into a ‘o’ shape. You whisper her name again, gently begging her for more. More closeness, more pleasure, more her.

She pumps them slowly, massaging your spongy walls as you begin to move your hips to the rhythm. “More?” you whimper, still so polite as you beg her for a request. And how could she say no when you’re as sweet as you are?

“You want more of me, angel?” she smiles. “I’ll give you some more.”

She dips down to kiss your collarbone again before she pulls her fingers out of you and laughs at the way you whimper, a pathetic little sound at the loss of her touch. Before you can begin to protest, you hear her snap and feel the zipper at your back begin to zip down your body. But you have no time to question her, as her lips attack yours between the time it takes to pull the dress over your head and off your body.

You don’t seem shy when you are laid bare to her. You keep holding her and kissing her, forgetting your confusion and shock before in favor of tasting the spice of her lips. She pushes you back onto the bed, abruptly separating you, even as your hands stay attached to her arms just to feel her soft skin.

She leans down over your body and lets her kisses ghost over your flesh, a phantom of herself teasing you. You feel her warm breath at the juncture of your thighs and want nothing more than to feel her tongue next. And it seems your prayers are answered when the hot muscle of her tongue flattens against your wet pussy and licks the arousal she’s pulled from you.

She’s happy to listen to the way you whisper her name under your breath when her lips wrap around you, allowing her tongue to plunge between your folds and fill you with pleasure. You moan and grind your hips against her face. She has to hold you down, chuckling darkly as she continues to lap at your needy core.

She sucks around your clit and swirls around your folds, tasting the sweetness you bear with a deep hum. “You taste just as delicious as you smell,” she rasps, kissing you messily. “This body is so…divine.” You melt under her praise, your hands tangling in her hair as your chest heaves.

Her fingers join her tongue once more, stroking and spreading and slipping in and out of you with the sole goal of tasting more of your sweet, sweet honey. “Natasha,” you moan. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? That’s a new one. Out of all the words in the Urban dictionary that can be used to describe Natasha Romanoff, sweetheart is not among them. Still, it’s sweet, and she thinks you’re adorable for thinking that way.

Natasha devours you, feeding off your moans like they are the essence of her being. Her hands grip your flesh and her tongue delves inside of you. She replaces her tongue with her fingers once more, pumping them in and out of you, curling against that sweet spot hidden deep within you. Your back arches and your moans get sucked up into the walls of your bedroom, pitchy and full of breath and desperation. You need her like you need air.

You moan her name again and she knows you’re close by the way your pussy tightens around her fingers, the way your clit pulses between her lips, by the way your fingers begin to tug at the locks of red hair you have tangled between them. She works harder, so eager to taste your nectar.

You hurdle over the edge with a loud, gasping moan. She holds you securely atop the counter, fingering and licking at your pussy as you gush around her, easing you through your orgasm. You chant her name under your breath, riding out your high against her face as she keeps building you up and prolonging your release just so she can continue to suck on your offerings, like the sap from a maple tree.

The last sparks of pleasure shoot through your limbs, in your belly. Your hips jerk when her fingers curve inside of you just a slight. She pulls them out and pulls away and licks her lips like she’s gotten sugar smeared all over them. “Oh, my angel,” she rasps. “Like heaven on earth.”

And you think she’s done as you will yourself to sit up, offering a sweet smile as you pull her in to kiss again, fully intending on seeing if she tastes just as “delicious” as she keeps telling you that you are.

But she breaks her kiss and stands off the bed and to her feet. You sit back, watching her pull her blouse over her head as her eyes stay glued to your beautiful body. She slips her lacey, only-for-decoration bra from her body to leave herself in nothing but her slacks.

You gaze at her, taking in the perfect hour-glass of her body and gawking when she steps out of her slacks and presents you with the strap-on she’s been hiding all this time. She watches the way you stare at it, smirking to herself as she stalks back over to you, leaning on the bed with her knee. “You like?” she says.

You bring your gaze up to her face, swallowing thickly and feeling embarrassment warming in your face for staring. You just nod. She chuckles, cupping your chin with her hand and shaking her head. She thinks you’re adorable.

She slides the hand around to your neck, cupping you there and pulling you in for a kiss. You moan, leaning into her. “But what about you?” you whisper, pressing your hand to her side and stroking your fingers over the skin.

She shrugs, “Don’t worry.” You miss the small wave of her hand behind her back as she lets her magic wash over her, connecting her own pleasure to that of her strap as she’s done a million times before. But you don’t need to know that. You don’t need to know the extent of her inhumanity. It isn’t important to the pleasure she derives from getting to taint something as pure as you. “It’s double-sided,” she lies.

You don’t get to protest because her lips are already on yours again. She slides her fingers through your folds again, swallowing your moans as she lays you down on your back and spreads you wide open for her.

As you're distracted by her kiss, she thrusts inside of you with a deep moan. You break the kiss, laying your head back and letting out a whimper of your own as she fills you, stretches you open for her as your tight pussy adjusts. You whisper her name like a prayer, and she moans yours like a sin.

She gives you only a moment to adjust to her size before she's moving her hips, a slow and steady in and out as she gets herself used to the feel of you, and oh… You definitely do not disappoint as you squeeze her cock like a vice.

“Fuck, my angel,” she laughs to herself. “You're fucking perfect.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders and savor the strokes of their cock inside you. “Please, Tasha,” you mutter.

She likes the way Tasha sounds. She's never been called Tasha before, her nickname has always been Nat. But the way it sounds falling from your lips, like a spell seeping into her skin and pulling her under your enchantment.

And it's hard to deny you when you look as precious as you do.

Her cock slides in and out of you in long, slow strokes as she fills you to the brim. You bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes closing as you breathe long, heavy sighs at the feelings she thrusts into you.

The desire for you, the desire to tear you apart invaded every little crevice of her being as she lost herself to more and more of her urge to fuck you desperate. She wants to hear your angelic voice beg a demon to fuck her nice and deep. She wants to see you fall apart, become a sinner all for her.

She grips your hips tightly, her rough thrusts no longer forgiving as she decides to take you how she wanted. You moan and whimper as your legs climb her waist until they're wrapped around her. She holds your thigh and just keeps thrusting.

You stutter her name, your capacity to remember anything else already slipping. She thrusts into you with all the passion in the world.

And then she pulls out at the pique of your wanton moans. You mewl and uselessly grab at her arms and waist. She separates from you with a sigh and ignores your attempts at bringing her back in, turning you on your stomach instead.

She thrusts inside without another word, filling you up from behind as you let your head hang. “There you go,” she husks. “That's better. Now I can fuck you like a whore.”

You moan, gripping the sheets and letting her do as she pleases. She keeps fucking you, relishing in the building sound of her hips smacking against your slick skin, the sound of you practically crying at the feeling of her fucking you so roughly making it harder to hold back.

“P-Please,” you stutter, clenching harder at the feeling. “Please don't stop. You're…amazing.”

Your gentle praise spurs her on more than she'd intended. She presses her finger to your clit and begins to rub fast, tight circles over it. She wants to feel you come undone. The more you cum on her cock, the more tainted you become with her darkness.

Her cock spears into you, pulling the dirtiest sounds from you as they echoed in the room—skin on skin, wet against wet. Your mouth falls open and you let out breathless cries accompanied with their own pleasured tears as they slip down your cheeks.

It feels so good, and you're going to cum.

You feel your body getting ready for it, building up higher and higher until you can do nothing but moan Natasha's name and shake upon your crashing release.

“Tasha,” you whine, dragging the last syllable out and breaking off into a pathetic moan. She keeps fucking you, groaning roughly as you clench so tightly around her. You gush and moan and she can't help but to fuck you just a little harder.

And when the orgasm melds to a little tremble, she keeps going. One of her hands wraps around your throat, tightening just a bit. She likes to feel her veins thumping under her palm, she likes to feel your life in her hand.

And apparently, so do you as you wrap your hand around hers and hold it securely there. Her eyes close as your pussy tightens, her thrusts become rougher as your moans become louder. She is going to make you cum again, she's set on it.

Your legs are a trembling mess, your arms are slowly dwindling in the strength they need to hold you up. “Please,” you mewl again. “Please don't stop, Tasha. I need you so…fucking bad.”

She feels successful. That's the first time she's heard you curse, and she's so excited to have spoiled your tongue with such a word. She rubs your clit again, wanting to reward you.

“I want you to cum for me again, angel,” she rasps. “All over me. Come on.”

Her thrusts are becoming sloppy, so absorbed in her oncoming release as she readies herself for your own. She pulls you back to meet her thrusts, rough and fast and deep as she continues to build you up.

You moan loudly as the pleasure builds and builds until it snaps. You throw your head back, crying out as you cum with the tight squeeze of your cunt. The warmth and the wetness of your pussy is too much as Natasha follows after you. She moans deeply in her throat as she grinds roughly inside of you, burying her cock in your pussy as if she was cumming in you to give you a deeper taint of your purity.

You allow your arms to give out as you fall forward onto the bed and muffle your moans into the sheets. She keeps gripping your hips tight, still riding out her high as she moans your name and lets out a string of curses.

Your whole body is shuddering by the time both your pleasure is reduced to tiny spasms through your limbs. She thrusts her hips a couple more times before pulling out of you with a long sigh.

You roll onto your side, lazily lying there as you glance up at Natasha with heavy eyelids. She runs a hand through her hair and gathers herself, looking down at you as the pride shimmers in her eyes and her chest.

She watches you, smiling, though she can't help a prickle of confusion when she takes in the sight of you. You lay there, half-asleep and completely spent, bare and vulnerable and exploited by her darkness.

And, yet, you look every bit like an angel as when she first met you. You look just as sweet, smell just as sweet, smile at her just as sweetly.

“Thank you,” you whisper sweetly. She watches you, watches as you pat the spot next to you and cast your innocent eyes on her.

And she's curious, so she lays down where you offer her a spot. Then you cup her cheek with the palm of your hand and kiss her, a long and slow and gentle kiss that Natasha becomes conflicted with as she leans into it.

Then you wrap your arms around her body and pull her in tight so she can't escape—or, she could… but she won't. All that time spent trying to corrupt you, and you're still the virtuous little angel she met at the coffee shop, cradling her in your arms and kissing her forehead and thanking her for the night of passionate fucking she'd just given you.

There is a warmth in your arms that Natasha hasn't felt in a long time. She's not quite sure if she's ever felt a warmth like this. She leans into it, she feels herself succumbing to your purities, despite her best efforts.

Curious, she lets you hold her, even longer after you had fallen asleep as she could safely slip away into the night, never to see you again.

But, no… You intrigue her. She couldn't leave now, especially if there was still so much virtue left in you. She will have to stick around. Yes… she will have to keep you a while longer.

You are a rare delicacy. She couldn't let you go to waste.

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[nymphomatique]

I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME

ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭

cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋

in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.

setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.

miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.

the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.

“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”

he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.

“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.

“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.

“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.

“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”

with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”

and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.

“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.

“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.

“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.

“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.

you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”

“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.

“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”

with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”

he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.

“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings- MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - Soft Toji!! This chapter-mostly just fluffy cuteness, some oral and pregnant sex

ꕥ Word Count- this chap- 5k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 12 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 13

Three months later

About six months along

You stare at yourself in the mirror, grimacing as you touch your tummy, tracing three long silvery stretch marks, turning this way and that, you’re getting big already, just your tummy and nothing else really, aside from a fullness to your breasts. Breasts your annoying fiance constantly wants to grab, touch and suck on, you are dressed in a tank top and Toji’s sweats, your new favorite things.

“Doll, you’re taking forever, you good? Sick or anything?” Toji asks from outside the bathroom door, and you sigh, stepping out and frowning. His eyes immediately go to your tummy, his big hands on it, as he leans down and kisses you. “Fuck you look so sexy.”

“Toji I look like a fucking watermelon! A blob! And look.” You point then, feeling tears in your eyes at your stretch marks, and Toji scoffs, leaning down on his knees now, looking up at you and kissing your tummy. “No, it’s-”

“Beautiful, doll. Look at you.” He’s kissing up your stretch marks, as you brush back his hair, all sweaty from his workout, sticking to his tanned forehead.

“No, you’re an Insta Baddie and I’m a whale.” He snorts then, you watched Toji post another picture and get another 10k likes, fuck he’s bad at pictures too, imagine if these women saw him forreal?

You both had been on several dates and women were thirsty for him, but Toji only has eyes for you, and you don’t get it, because your fingers are swelling and your tummy is so big. He’s more on you than ever, if that’s possible, constantly trying to touch you, suck on your nipples, trying to get you to ride him, but you’re so insecure as you get further along.

“You’re sexy as fuck. Keep talking shit about yourself and I’ll not let you cum tonight.” You tremble a bit, because fuck you’re always horny.

“Mmm, we have Megs, Yuji and Nobara coming for dinner, you know. You need to help me find something pretty.”

He chuckles as he stands, big hands still on your tummy. “Doll, I sure ain’t picking outfits, got me soft enough like a lil bitch.”

“Oh please!” You pout, and he scowls, dark green eyes narrowing.

“Nah, ya got enough clothes, brat. Go pick em or greet em in this.” He grins, yanking on your sweatpants (his sweats!?) 

“Ugh, no! Fine, mean old man. Ow!” Toji pinches your nipples then, sensitive as fuck, making you gasp. “Dick! Let go!”

“Don’t like your attitude.”

“Don’t like yours!”

“Baby got you so angry, swear to god.”

“You wanted one!”

“Yes I do!” He’s cupping your face then, slamming his lips down, and you feel yourself get so wet, moaning as he grabs you so tight, until he feels the baby kick his torso, and he looks down, laughing so soft, a beautiful grin on his stern face. “Oh my god… well hello baby.”

You giggle then, unable to keep an attitude when your baby kicks once more, now on Toji’s big palm. “She’s angry with you, Toji.”

“She’s gonna be a brat like you.” You just grin, as she does a somersault inside you, and kicks your rib, making you wince. “See?”

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“Fuck me huh?” He scowls again, done with your attitude quite clearly, and turns you, bending you over the kitchen table, sliding down your sweats and smacking your backside.

“Ow!” You bite your lip, thighs shifting as the movement makes you so wet, and Toji smirks at you as you look back. “Gonna smack your pregnant wife!?”

“Fuck yeah I am. Look how big that ass is getting-”

“Hey fuck you! Ah!”

“I like it, lemme enjoy. Mm, these handprints.” Toji smacks you gently, it stings a bit but nothing like he’d do before you started showing more. He acts ‘rough’ but he really takes it too easy, too worried to hurt the baby. “So slutty, you like it huh Ma?”

“Mmm, shut up. Ngh!” Toji smacks your pussy, making you spread your thighs for more, praying your baby will stop kicking, and she finally does, so you can focus on how good it feels as he runs a rough finger through your folds.

“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you. Be bad and you can just get licked everywhere but that clit.”

“Mmm, I’ll be good!” You whine, Toji has been loving to lick your pussy all over, avoiding your clit to torture you when you’re bad, until he has you a damn mess. “Toji, can’t stand like this long…”

“Oh shit, c’mon.” He slides up your sweats now, picking you up with ease still, and you’re kissing his hot, firm lips, so hungry for him. He’s got you on the bed now, sitting on the edge, kneeling between your legs. “How ya wanna do it, doll? I never know what’s good, you’re so bitchy so much.”

“Mmm… I’m sorry.” You blink back tears and he frowns.

“Don’t say sorry and shit. I knew you’d be the bitchiest pregnant girl, and I still fuckin did it.” You giggle now, and he sighs. “Fuck these mood swings.”

“Ugh I know! Don’t know if I’m sad, horny, hungry or happy.” He kisses your thighs over your sweats, hands rubbing your tummy.

“I know what ya are, doll.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” You whisper, caressing his strong jawline. He kisses your palm then kisses your belly button.

“Gorgeous as fuck. That’s what. Prettiest brat there is.” Your lips are trembling now, as you sniffle, then you yank him up by his broad shoulders.

“I fucking love you, Toji” He’s kissing you as he’s standing, bent at the waist, as you lean back and he’s caressing your breasts with his big hands.

“I love you, mean little brat. Gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Take baby aspirin, old man. Fuck!” He pinches your nipple with a scowl, and you grin up at him then. “You’re the most handsome man there is, Toji, I swear to god. I’ll never, ever want anyone but you.”

He blinks at your sincerity, moaning and slipping his hand down your sweats, rubbing your clit, soaked already, as he studies you, pulling your hair gently at the base of your neck. “I’ll never want anyone, how could I? Look at you, fuck you’re so wet f’me too ain’t ya baby?”

“Always, always.” You whisper, then you’re grinding on his hand as two fingers slide in.

“You’re so wet doll, oh my god.” He moans, playing with you, and you hear it, the sounds of that lewd squishing in the room.

“Want you, please Toji.” You plead now, and he’s letting you undress him, as you eagerly take him in your mouth, lapping up the salty precum at his tip, letting it coat your mouth now. He’s huffing, his abs flexing as his hips thrust, not fully, Toji is so careful even though his hands are shaking.

Your eyes look up at him, and he looks down with his lidded gaze, his teeth bared just so, and you suck him harder, lashes low over your dazed eyes. “You’re such a good girl f’me, for once huh?”

“Just once.” You tease, flicking your tongue and stroking him, before he’s slipping down your top, moaning at your breasts, so full and bouncy, and you pull his cock closer, nodding, letting him stroke his cock between them.

“Holy… oh my… look at ‘em. Look at em s’pretty.” He’s a mess now, as you hold your jiggly tits together for him, as he’s fucking his thick, veiny cock between them, hands sliding down the sides of them, making you shiver. “Lemme eat you, please.”

“I can’t see you though!” You pout, and he laughs, breathless.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t see your pretty pussy. Don’t deny a man his meal, damn brat.”

“Oh fine but I miss looking at you!” He pulls you by your now bare thighs, diving down as you lay back on the bed, legs dangling over the edge and on his strong shoulders, feeling his muscles tense as he lavishes you with his tongue, and fuck it feels so good, you’re screaming out. “T-Toji!”

He’s smiling against you, you can’t see his damn eyes, all you see is your huge tits and tummy, your eyes closing as you try to reach down, but he takes a hand and holds your wrist, squeezing and giving you just enough roughness. You’re whimpering as he’s drinking you up, fuck you hear him sucking your wetness, exhaling and moaning on you.

“It tastes even better.” He whispers, sliding a thick digit in your soppy little cunt, which sucks it in, as he watches it disappear so pretty between those puffy lips. He’s sucking your clit into his mouth now, lavishing the tiny pearl with his tongue as he vibrates it by groaning.

“Toji!” You scream out, thighs threatening to close, but he sucks right through it, as you cum so messy all over his face and his hand, gushing liquid, you feel it hot and wet down your ass now. “Oh my god.”

“Would think your water broke, cum so much, lil slut.” You gasp, but he’s leaned up and now you see that handsome, rugged face you love, and it’s half covered in your slick.

“Get in there, please, jerk!” He is rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds now, leaning just a bit over you, as you swipe back his inky black locks, and he pushes in  so easy. You’re whining at the stretch, and you can’t stop it, you cum again when he’s hitting that cervix, and he grins.

“So easy, brat- oh fuck, stop tightening up!” He’s tense over you, and you grin as you get him back, and you feel him so good, you moan, cumming still, getting him so wet he’s slippery, even as tight as you are. “Oh my… you better not….”

“Gonna bust fast old man?” He gently smacks your face as you giggle.

“I will beat this ass when you’re ready again. Fuck you so hard.” He says, putting just enough pressure now in your pussy, as he’s so careful to keep any weight off your tummy, and you cling to him, around his neck, biting your lip and cheeks flushing. He sighs then, pausing.

“Wh-what? I’ll loosen up. Don’t stop.” You whine, rolling your hips up, and he shakes his head, brushing your hair back gently, then his thumb brushes a rounding cheek.

“Nah, just beautiful is all.” You feel those tears back, slamming his lips to yours as he fucks into you, steady and slow and so good, until you’re both falling apart, and he’s pulsing inside of you, as you’re throbbing from your aftershocks. “Gonna fill you up s’good, doll.”

“Fill me up, please Daddy.” At that Toji cums, and he cums hard, those ribbons of that white cum soaking into your walls, coating them, as he slows, kissing your face, your breasts, hands rubbing your tummy.

“You’re so sexy, fuck, doll. Like this?” He’s eased out now, kissing your tummy, and you exhale, trembling and trying to come to, nothing about sex with Toji was anything but mind blowing.

“I love you so much.” You say softly, as he melts your insecurities away, this gruff man with his nasty ass jokes and lewd looks, he makes you feel so beautiful even when you’re so down. There is no being down when you’re with Toji Fushiguro, he will never let you be.

“I love you, lil Mama.” You smile against his lips as he eases you up, and then he’s gone for a moment, back with a washcloth, cleaning you up.

“Does it bother you, the… um hair? It annoys me.” You grumble, and he smirks, shaking his head.

“Kinda like it, doll. Do you not?”

“No I don’t. But I can’t see it or reach it!”

“Need me to shave ya?”

“Please.” He sighs.

“I think it’s cute.” He’s rubbing the hair you can't see on your mound. “But whatever ya want, brat.”

“Yay!”

******

You are sitting at dinner now, that you and Toji had cooked together, and Megumi pulls out a seat next to him for you, patting it. You sit down gratefully, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment, and catch Toji’s soft smile as Megumi touches your tummy, and gasps when he feels it, the bump of your baby girl saying hello, his usually serious features softened.

“Oh my god… It's doing that now!?” You giggle, nodding as you take his hand, pressing it a little higher on your bump.

“You haven’t seen me in like two months, it was hard to tell then. Now she’s vicious, I swear.” Megumi smiles just a bit, dark lashes lowering as he looks at your tummy in your pretty white sundress.

You remember when he found out.

3 months ago

“You’re what!? Dad I swear to god, the fuck!” Megumi was furious as you both had told him, inviting him to Toji’s home right after leaving Shiu.

“Kid…”

“Don’t kid me. She’s my age. I wouldn’t want a brat, tch.” He pouts and looks at you seriously. “You can’t want a kid yet.”

“Megs, I do… I am really happy. I know it’s weird, but I want this.” You look at him now, and he frowns, looking at his dad again, then you, rolling his eyes.

“God, don’t do that puppy dog eye thing.”

Toji chuckles. “She gets everything that way.”

“Bet she does.” Megumi rolls those dark green eyes, and you keep pouting, eyes wide, until he sighs, touching your still flat tummy. “Do you really want a baby?”

“I do, and I promise I’ll be the best mom.” You touch his hand over yours, and he smiles just a bit finally as he looks down. “You’ll have a little sister or brother!”

“That sounds annoying. A stupid kid, ugh.”

“Hey!” You poke at him now, and he smirks. “You’re such a little shit, Megs!”

“He gets that from me.” Toji ruffles Megumi’s perfect spikes, and he smacks his hand away, grimacing in disgust, but he’s still touching your tummy, his black brows drawing together.

“Hmm. If you’re happy?”

“I am Megs.”

“The fuck, about me kid?” Toji says, standing and crossing his thick, banded biceps, and Megumi snorts.

“Again, if you’re happy.” He says to you, making you grin as Toji fumes.

“How does my kid like you better than me?” He grumbles, and you stick your tongue out, as Megumi’s long fingers slip off your tummy.

“Everyone likes me better, Old man.” Megumi grins at that, and Toji loses his shit, but Megumi is looking at you contemplatively. “What is it, Megs?”

“You look so happy. Glowing.” You blush now.

“I am happy, I really am.”

“Then… fuck it. I guess I’m gonna be a big brother.”

“Yay!” You smack a kiss on his cheek, and Toji smiles at the two of you, devious fucking smile, that makes you both look at him, wide eyed.

“And you’re gonna have a stepmom.”

“Yuck!”

Present- Toji’s POV

Things absolutely changed that day, now Megumi is so sweet, as Yuji and Nobara take turns feeling your tummy, and Toji is making everyone plates, stealing glances at his pretty fiance. One he can’t wait to make his wife, but you’re waiting until after the baby for that, you do have a pretty little diamond ring on your finger that glints in those lights now.

He watches his son laugh next to you, as you carry his daughter, and fuck if you don’t make him a sappy ‘old man’ damn brat that you are. As you’re all flushed and beautiful, glowing so bright, your eyes sparkling as you talk to your best friends. Fuck he’s a lucky man, you’re a goddess to him, you always were, but now you’ve got that tummy, those curves, in that pretty white dress?

You look like Venus herself.

He would probably just call you a sexy lil doll, but he does think you’re his goddess, damn you make him corny. If someone told Toji Fushiguro he’d be such a sap he would never believe it. Megumi feels the baby kick again, and Toji’s heart finally feels full, this void he’d had for so long since he had Megumi was filled, he was so lucky the kid wants to have him in his life.

He’s so lucky he has you three, you, Megs and the baby, even your friends who drive him insane, he just wants you happy. And as you peek at him, sipping on some sparkling water, and you look at him with such love in your pretty eyes, that brilliant smile, it’s like you’re clenching his heart with your tiny little hand.

How was Toji ever lucky enough to have you, and to have a family like this? After fucking up so much, after being just a bum for so long, how has Toji finally got his shit together, finally got a fiance. A beautiful one, a sweet one (lets be real, you’re kind of mean as fuck and bitchy, but Toji loves that) sweet when you want dick, but how’d he even get lucky enough for that?

He peeks and sees Shiu has texted him, and smiles a bit at the phone as he’s grabbing more drinks for everyone. Shiu still hates Toji, and Toji doesn't blame him, but he’s a good damn dad, better than Toji was with Megs. He hopes he can be that good of a dad to your baby, he damn well will try.

He’s picturing a pretty little daughter now, and he can’t stop the stupid smile on his face.

*****

3 months later- Labor day

“Toji Fushiguro, I hate you and your big ass head! Ow fuck!” You scream, holding his hand so tight he’s wincing, scowling right back at you.

“You got the big ass head, blame your damn dad!”

“Excuse me!?” Shiu shouts, looking up from where he has his face covered, terrified as your contractions get quicker. “You got a big ass head Toji!”

“Fuck yes he does. Ugh! You suck so bad I can’t do this!” You’re sobbing at the pain, and Megumi stands then, shaking his head.

“Can’t do it. Dad, be supportive, fuck. Shiu, c’mon… coffee?” Megumi suggests, and Shiu jumps up immediately.

“Cocaine maybe, fuck.”

“Dad!” You scowl and he grimaces.

“You’re scary kiddo. You deserve her to break your hand, Toji.” Shiu says then, and they run out, leaving you with your mean, big headed fiance.

“Brat too tiny can’t have a kid right?”

“Fuck you I can!”

“Mmm, sure you can.”

“Toji I’ll never have one again, I swear ugh!” You squeeze his hand again, screaming out, as the doctors rush in, and they take your vitals.

“She’s not dilating, we can’t keep going much longer, it's been ten hours.” The doctor says, and Toji frowns then, holding your hand tightly.

“Shit.”

“Shit, shit what!?”

“C section, Megs was one too.”

“Because your big ass head, oh fuck you!” He scowls.

“You’re a damn brat!”

“You’re a dick, old man!”

“Ahem. We can give it a little longer, but we really need to get you prepped in case. We can up the pitocin and try that if you want? What’s best for you mom?” They ask you then, and you are glaring right at him, as he is you, then his face changes, as he holds your tummy, and kisses you, right in front of blushing nurses and that doctor, sighing against your lips.

“Scared, Toji.” You admit, and he nods then, head resting on yours, as you feel your heart race.

“It’ll be fine, doll. I got you. Right here with you, yeah?”

You kiss him back, hands entangling in his hair, so messy from how much he’d been messing with it. “Right here with me.”

******

“Oh my god! I’m a grandpa!” Shiu is holding your beautiful little girl later on, as you’re a sweaty, exhausted mess, having this baby was not easy, thanks to Toji’s big ass head, you’d had a lot of trouble, but she was here, no c section thank goodness, and perfect. And you were safe and sound. Your heart aches as you see your dad smiling so big.

“She’s beautiful.” You whisper, as Toji sits next to you in the bed, holding up water for you to sip, smiling softly.

“You did so good, doll. She’s beautiful just like you.” He whispers, kissing your sweaty forehead, and you smile tremulously, as you sip the icy water, sighing.

“She has your eyes, Toji.” You say then, as now Megumi holds his little sister, and you watch the usually serious Megumi melt as he looks at her.

“She’s so beautiful. Hey little sis.” Megumi cooes softly, and you melt even more, as Toji is stroking your hair back, sighing.

“I’m so fuckin happy.” He murmurs in your ear, and you touch his face gently, smiling up at him, eyes glimmering with tears. “Ya made me so happy, doll, I don’t know how to even describe it. Heart… fucking hurts.”

“Aw, you’re such a sap, old man.” You tease, and he narrows his eyes, but you peck a weak kiss on his stubbled chin. “I’m kidding. Toji I couldn’t be happier.”

Megumi hands Toji your baby girl again, and he grins so big, as she grabs one of his big fingers with her tiny little fist. The sight of your beautiful little girl in Toji’s big arms makes you wanna have another damn baby, even after all this, even after being uncomfortable this last month and having a hard time. You’d give this man anything, when you watch him light up.

He gently hands you her, your sweet little baby Mio. She opens those dark green eyes, just like Megs and Toji, but she has your hair color, and your nose, you’re tapping her nose gently, watching her little mouth form into an O, and you smile softly as your heart swells. You have never felt this, this love, you love Toji so much but this is so different, it fills you with so much emotion you feel them spilling over through your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I love you, little Mio. So, much. I’m your mommy!” You whisper, sitting up with Toji’s help further, as she blinks those beautiful eyes, and you put her forehead to your lips, inhaling her. “She smells so good!?”

“The baby smell.” Toji and Shiu say, and you smile at them both, as your dad comes and kisses the top of your head, then bends down and kisses Mio’s downy little head.

“Do you all still remember that? In like the fifties?” Megumi says, earning your giggle and their scowl.

“Brats.” Toji grumbles.

“Brats.” Shiu agrees, then taps Mio’s nose, and yours. “Look, that’s your nose alright, isn’t it? She’s so pretty like you.”

“Aw thank you dad, she’s even more beautiful.” You all coo over her, and soon Megumi and Shiu eventually leave, after saying their goodbyes. It’s you with Toji in the quiet room, holding your baby. You’re so tired, but so happy, your heart so full as you feel this contentment and excitement, as Toji is holding you to his side.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your dad. Welcome to the world, little one.” You’re crying again, at how sweet he is. “Kept us waiting, had to make an entrance, huh?”

“Dramatic like me.” You giggle, and he grins, and you start to feel exhaustion hit, sighing as you lean into his side.

“You’re gonna be the best dad any little baby could have, you know.” Toji blinks a bit then, looking away, you watch that Adam’s apple bob as he gulps.

“I’m gonna do everything to try.”

“I know you will, I’m so happy you’re her dad.”

“You’re her mommy. And you’ll be the best. I love you, doll, fuck you’ve made me so happy.” He whispers, and you kiss him, as your baby begins to let out a cute little cry, then it gets loud, and you laugh a bit. “She’s gonna be so bratty, I’m screwed.”

“So screwed.” You agree, grinning, as Toji helps you pull your breast out, and he exhales, as you hiss a bit when you see the milk drops. “Ugh, feel like a cow!”

“It’s beautiful, doll. Don’t.” He says gruffly, and then he helps put your baby's little mouth on your nipple. She struggles to latch, her little fists punching you practically, with sharp nails. Toji chuckles. “She’s vicious, isn’t she?”

“Jesus, guess that’s what happens with us as parents. Ow! Mio!” You’re huffing, wriggling with discomfort as her gums bite down, then finally she latches, and sucks, her puffy cheeks moving as she drinks. Finally you ease, exhaling. “She’s got it!”

“She’s a pro, too. Ya alright doll?” He asks, brow furrowing, and you nod then, letting him kiss your temple as your little girl eats.

“It feels so weird, but I’m good. It will take practice, the nurse said.”

“You’ll do great, already know it. Gonna be the best at this parenting shit, both of us, won’t we?” He nudges you with a grin, and you feel yourself getting so sleepy, feeling such warmth. You nod.

“We will do such a good job. I know it. She’s everything now.” You caress her cheek again, love bursting from every part of you.

“You’re both everything to me.” He corrects, and then sighs. “And Megs, of course, he was so happy wasn’t he?”

“He was oh my god! I knew it.”

“We’ll have him watch the kid so we can go fuck-”

“Toji!” You gasp, and he just grins shameless and lewd. “Knew you were being too nice, old perv.”

“Old, knocked you the fuck up. Should do it again.”

“Fuck no!” You stick your tongue out, as your baby now is asleep, no longer sucking, and you smile at her little face, a pretty gummy smile “Oh my god!”

“She’s milk drunk. Megs got like this.” You giggle then, looking up at him, seeing his dark green eyes, the same color as your daughter’s eyes, so lit up.

“Was Megumi a serious kid?”

“I didn’t know him well enough.” He frowns, and you sigh.

“I’m sorry-”

“Nah, doll, it’s okay. I’ll know everything about her, little Mio, I swear. I’ll never leave your side.” His words break your heart into pieces, you hear the pain in his voice as he takes his daughter in his arms.

“Toji you will do great. I know it.” You say softly, and he nods, as you wipe a tear, making him scowl.

“Ain’t crying.”

“Oh no, saw nothing.” He snorts, and you smile, as emotions run through you. “I love you, Toji.”

“I love you too, doll. So much.” He kisses your forehead, and then your baby’s head, and you lean into his side, watching him, feeling so content, as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear, and you’re so tired now you can’t keep awake.

“I’m gonna nap, okay?” You mumble, and he nods, easing off the bed.

“Yeah, sleep, I got her, doll. She’s okay.” And you doze off, feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling complete.

*****

When you wake up, you’re surprised to find it’s night, and the room is dimly lit, just the moon coming through the window, and the hospital lights are all off aside from a little one around your bed, casting a soft glow over everything. Toji’s still there, sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding your sleeping baby, looking down at her with a soft, loving smile on his face.

You sit up and he looks over at you, eyes tired but so, so happy.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. Did I miss anything?” You ask nervously, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Nothin’. She’s just been sleeping like a rock. Like you, lazy little thing.” He smirks, and you grin at his words, watching as he adjusts her in his arms.

“Am not lazy, just had your baby!”

“Mmm, you were snoring though.”

“Was not!” He grins, and places your baby down in the little bassinet now, all swaddled up. “Come here.” You whisper, and he stands, stretching his long limbs and then he’s leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as you kiss back, feeling that warmth spread through your body.

Toji sits in the bed, laying on his side, pulling you to him, eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, doll. You’re a mommy now.” He whispers, stroking your messy hair, and you snuggle to him, his hard, warm body, where you feel so safe, as he strokes your back up and down in the little hospital bed.

“Thank you, for everything. For being here with me, for being with me. Toji I can never imagine being without you.” You say then, and he exhales, gulping, his eyes lidded and tired like yours.

“Where else would I be, doll, but right here?” He kisses you again, and you hold onto him, feeling the love in his arms, so strong and safe, as you feel this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. Toji slips a hand to your breast then, and you squeak, earning his chuckle. “What, they’re hot.”

“You perv, I just had a baby!” You whisper, and he grins then, kissing down the side of your neck. “I feel gross!”

“Nah, you’re always sexy, even now. Enjoy that break you get for what, a couple weeks?” He nips your throat, and you gasp at it. How can he be such a hornball, damn old man.

“Like a month, fuck don’t do that.” He is kissing your neck again where he’d just bit, pulling back and smirking down at you, tiling your chin up and cupping your cheeks now.

“Enjoy that break, gonna knock ya up again.” You smack at him and he’s just grinning, white teeth stark against dark stubble.

“Will not, gonna tie those tubes.”

“Better not, brat.”

“Mmhmm! Now shut up, and lemme sleep. Snuggle me?” He smiles softer now, nodding and holding you tight against him, as your arms wrap his torso, and you feel sleep tugging at you again.

“Love you, lil doll.” He whispers against your hair.

“Love you, Toji.”

Final Chap Here

Kofi Link if you wanna buy me a coffee <3

ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/153013882

[finelinevogue]

a different kind of hot

a little - literally 100 words - something based off this

“baby, can you put suncream on my legs please?”

you ask as harry is sitting up and applying the last of his suncream to his torso. his tattoos were always more susceptible to sunburn than the rest of his skin, so he took extra care in applying cream to them.

his body looked incredible with his tan, soaking up the sun in between his concerts. his days off always made him feel that extra little bit more alive, which could be seen in his smile and the glow of his eyes.

“can you not do it yourself?” harry teased.

“i can’t reaach.” you stressed, laying down and stretching your arms like you couldn’t possibly get up.

“alright. you’re such a pain in my ass, i swear.”

harry laughed and started squeezing the cream onto his hands. he rubbed it and then started applying it to your legs.

you hummed at the feeling, his hands massaging your legs as he rubbed the cream in. you laid down flat and let the warm feeling of harry’s hands on your body take over your mind.

harry didn’t complain one bit, actually quite enjoying himself. any chance to feel you up was a win for him, especially when he got to take a hold of your legs he loved so much.

“that feels good, baby.”

“does it now? y’only asked me to do this because you wanted my hands on you right?”

“shut up. you’re so full of yourself.” you rolled your eyes beneath your sunglasses, but harry must have seen because he teasingly slaps your inner thigh.

“am i? don’t see you complaining.”

[f1version]

DISTRACTION ★ CS55

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

summary: Carlos is stretching while you are trying to work. Keeping your eyes off him is harder than you thought.

or this request

warnings: teasing, kissing, spanish pet names, shirtless carlos, just carlos in general and reader being overwhelmed by that.

word count: 840

It's been about an hour since Carlos asked you to get in the pool with him. You would have, but after looking at all the work you had due, all he got was a no. So now he is looking for revenge.

He has been stretching for the past 10 minutes. No shirt. Wet from the pool.

Carlos is good-looking, everyone knows that. You know that. He knows that, and he's using it against you.

Each time you look up information, you end up with Carlos' face on your laptop. Each time you focus enough to write something, you hear a small moan coming from Carlos' mouth. Each time you get lost in thought, your eyes end up on Carlos' body.

This is impossible. He is impossible.

You close your eyes, draining all thoughts from your mind, miraculously being successful in the process. There was nothing but a dark void, all of Carlos' intense presence forgotten.

Peace.

"Mi vida?"  His voice trembles in your head, making your eyes fly open, cursing everything and everyone in this world "Are you okay?"

Oh my god. He looked so innocent, brown eyes wide and soft, you almost fell for it. He was playing games that are hard to win.

"Yeah, I'm good" You answered, "I just need to finish this article for tomorrow."

He nodded, "Maybe after you finish, we can have a little fun," He said, winking and then continued stretching.

How is he even real?

He just says things, does things, and you know they are on purpose. You know how he wants you to see him. He wants you to want him.

You turned to look at him once he was focused on whatever he was doing at this point. He is gorgeous. His tanned skin traced by the sun, glowing because of the sweat and water, mouth slightly open, breathing deeply, eyes shut.

You saw him smile to himself, it was so sudden that it made you hyperaware of yourself. You were almost on your knees, eyes fixated on him. And god, you swear you had just whimpered. That's why Carlos was smiling.

Fuck him.

"You are the worst." You heard yourself say, no longer concerned about work. Well, maybe a bit, but you had to enjoy your time with him.

"Hm? Did you say something, cariño?" He had heard you. He does this regularly when teasing you, lying about not hearing you. You don't think he notices this habit of his, but you do. And you love it.

"Can you come here, please, amor?" You ignored his comment, you had to end this now, he is too much of a distraction.

The Spaniard nodded, smirk on his lips. Positioning himself in between your legs when he got closer. He was looking at you now, his eyes were mischief as he said, "Is everything okay with work?"

And you kissed him. Kissed him as if he were the only thing you needed, kissed his burning lips without fear of melting. Lips that, with the eagerness, moved faster, tuning to the rhythm of his racing heart. His hands were now on you, your own pair on him, both touching every inch.

Carlos lets out a whimper, and you believe that is the most beautiful sound in the world, because he is the most beautiful man in the world.

You moan in response, Carlos taking the opportunity to wrap your legs around his torso, lifting you as he stands, his mouth never leaving yours.

He starts walking and you know you have reached the bedroom when he almost knocks you over with a couple of doorframes. He kisses your neck, leaving small bites and marks on those places he knows drive you insane.

When you feel yourself falling onto the mattress, your legs never leaving his waist, you turn the two of you around, straddling him.

"You are the devil. You know that, right?" You say, and he smiles, bringing you down for a kiss. You start moving around, leaving his lips, kissing his chest, moving your hips, all making Carlos curse and call out your name.

"Mierda" He whispers, eyes closed, "Don’t stop, sweetheart.”

But you do stop.

His eyes open fast when he doesn’t feel you near anymore, his hands try to catch you before you stand up. You are faster.

"What the fuck?" He protests, sitting up while you go through the door.

"I told you I had to work, amor." You say, "But since you decided to be such a tease, I had no more options."

He looks too stunned to speak… and turned on, very turned on.

"Cariño,"

"We can finish this tonight, how's that?" You wink at him. "See ya.’"

That's the last thing you say before running away, leaving a desperate Carlos who has declared war against you in his head.

translation:

amor love mi vida my life cariño sweetheart mierda shit / fuck

[heeseungwifey]

Does Layla need a mom?

pairing: jake x y/n

warning: contains smut!

It’s a chilly night so I’ve decided to go for some stockings with my mini skirt. I wish I could just ignore the cold for my Tinder date tonight but I should put my health first. I’m meeting a new guy called Jake, by his profile I know he’s 21, has gorgeous lips and a dog. That’s all I’m looking for in a man these days, someone I can have fun with. 

I order an Uber and go down the stairs, already kinda late for the reservation at the fancy Italian restaurant where we’re having our date. He made the reservation a week ago, he swears it’s the best food I’ll try in town. I get in the Uber and send him a message.

“Sorry, I'll be a few minutes late, traffic!” I sent it as the Uber driver was waiting on a red light. 

“No worries, I’m already here. I hope you do show up and not leave me stranded haha” Jake sends a smiley emoji and I get he’s nervous about this date too. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, friendly but also quite flirty, some texts getting borderline sexting. I’ve been trying not to overthink about how this night could end, but the thought of getting into this man’s bed has kept me zoning out since he asked me out. 

“Here it is lady, have a good night!” I get out of the car and thank the Uber driver, getting into the restaurant as fast as I can so I don’t ruin my hair in the rain. when I walk in, I scan the room to look for Jake, quickly spotting him at the end of the restaurant. He’s wearing a leather jacket, his hair pushed back and a neck chain, looking so good I almost got embarrassed to approach him. It would have been too late to escape since he already saw me, getting up and shaking his hand in the air so I could see him. 

“Hello! Wow you look gorgeous y/n” Jake kisses me on the cheek and I get to smell his perfume, manly and sexy. I sit down and take a sweet time to appreciate how he looks, admire his tan skin, his big nose, his beautiful smile and his hands, wishing that those would be touching me in a couple of hours. He’s doing the same as me, scanning me from head to toe with a sultry stare.

“You look really good too Jake, I’m kind of surprised you’re just not wearing basketball shorts or a striped shirt” I joke since in all his pictures on Instagram he’s wearing one of these two clothing pieces, even both of the same time sometimes. He looks ridiculously gorgeous tonight. 

“Well I have to show off for tonight, need to make a good impression”

“Sure you are”

Dinner was fantastic, everything was delicious and we talked all the time we were sitting there as if we had known each other since forever. Jake had come with his car so he offered to take me home. I felt uncomfortable asking to go to his house even though I really wanted to, so I made an excuse to be with him for a little bit more. 

“I know a cool bar right around here, would you like to go? Let’s not end the date just yet” I looked up on Google Maps a bar next to his house just to hang out there for a bit, have a drink and see where the night took us. The next thing I know is that each of us has drunk at least 3 cocktails and it’s almost 2 a.m.

“My house is quite close to this bar, if you want to crash, I know I said I would take you home but I don’t think I can drive right now, a uber right now is gonna be impossible to find” Jake has his arm around my shoulders, his hair messy and he had to take his jacket off because of how hot he was. His house is a 15-minute walk away, which helps us get refreshed as we get to his door. 

“Here we are, welcome to my house!” Jake opens the door and a modern and minimalist decor fills my sight. it’s obvious it’s a single man’s house by the posters and figurines he has but it’s done with good taste, giving a personal touch.

“Omg is this Layla? you’re so pretty and fluffy!” Jake’s dog approaches me right as I walk in, excitedly shaking her tail and giving little jumps. He has previously talked about her dog at the restaurant, showing me pictures of her as a puppy and all. 

“She seems to like you, I don’t often see her this excited” Jake closes the door and takes his jacket off, hanging it on the entrance coat rack. He gets behind me and grabs my bag and my coat, hanging it as well. 

“It’s kinda crazy that I’m staying at your house, I don’t know what you’re gonna think of me” I say as a joke but deep down I do want to give him a good impression and as much as I would love to rip his clothes off right now, 

“It's kind of stupid If I thought anything bad about you y/n. I hope you know I’m very excited that you’re here right now. Just knowing we get to be a few more minutes together is already giving me a rush”

I look at him and he’s standing there, looking so handsome in this light, the air feeling heavy. I move to the sofa, sitting there first as he follows me around inside his own house. He turns on the TV and we’re sitting there like dummies, watching whatever is on. I am nervous, the expectation growing more and more each second. 

“what the hell are we doing?” Jake says as he’s getting closer to me, facing me as I’m resting my back on the couch. When he’s just inches away from my lips, Layla jumps on the sofa, right in between us. 

“Layla! you scared me, fuck” Jake moves to the other side of the sofa, being attacked by Layla’s kisses. I laugh from the other side, the view so endearing I almost forgot he’s just a Tinder date and this will end soon.

“Do you want me to lend you some clothes to sleep in? A T-shirt and some shorts perhaps?” Jake is standing right in front of me, waiting for my answer, looking for an excuse to get out of Layla’s insistence. 

“yes, thank you! where’s the bathroom by the way? I need to take my make-up off” I get up fast as he walks to his bedroom to pick up the clothes. 

“It’s here, hold on… let me give you the clothes so you can change. I also have make-up remover in the cabinet” Jake rumbles around his closet and comes back with a white t-shirt with a logo on it and some Nike shorts, handing them to me. 

When I finished changing and getting my make-up off I glanced at myself in the mirror. I look so bare in this look, just how I would look at the solitude of my own house. It’s kinda crazy that this is how I choose to show myself in front of my date, who I have known for just a few hours. I guess Jake has something that just makes me blindly trust him. 

As I’m coming out of the bathroom I hear the TV, the volume turned down so it’s low. When I walk into the living room, Jake is lying on the couch with a tight t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla lies right next to him, looking adorable with her fluffy fur. He looks a bit sleepy but as I walk into his sight, he opens his eyes and gets up. 

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? I don’t sleep too much so I always stay up late watching TV. Right now there’s this 50’s romantic movie, I don’t know if you would like it” Jake looks at me as I’m standing there, his eyes trying not to look at my nipples, visible through the t-shirt he gave me. I’m also quite careful not to get caught looking at his bulge, way too noticeable in those sweats.

“I don’t care really, it’s just background noise to me” I say as I’m sitting next to him, he grabs my hands and pulls me in between his legs. His big hands hold mine as he looks at me in the eyes, the TV light illuminating his face in a beautiful blue. He looks mesmerizing, so much so that I can’t hold myself any longer and I kiss him. His sweet, plump lips capture mine with the same intensity as mine, gasping for air every time we separate. 

Jake grabs the back of my thighs and sits me on his lap, his hands groping my ass and massaging it. I feel an overwhelming heat on my cheeks, all the pent-up neediness flowing out from us. He wanted this as much as I did. It’s surreal a man like this would want me so bad. 

“Baby, let’s go to the bedroom” Jake says in between kisses as he picks me up from his lap and takes me to his bedroom. I’m not thinking about anything else right now but his lips, his hands and the burning pain I’m feeling in my groin, growing worse each second I feel no relief. 

When we get to the bedroom, Jake throws me onto the bed, closing the door behind him. The bedroom is nicely decorated, filled with blue and wood. Seeing the details of how he chooses to decorate his house gives me more knowledge about him, filling in the gaps of the missing info I have about him. As I’m laying there, he moves swiftly to the side of the bed, where he turns on a bedside lamp. Lights on tonight I guess. 

“Tell me what you like baby, I’m all ears” Jake is standing right at the feet of the bed, in front of me lying in his bed. Many dirty thoughts go through my head, and I could ask for many favours. I don’t have words to describe how bothered I am by his presence, getting hornier with every second he spends waiting for me to voice my desires. 

“take your t-shirt off, slowly. And then take mine” I ask, not much but just enough for now. Jake doesn’t say a word, he just follows. Grabs the hem of his t-shirt and peels it off, showing his defined abs and honey skin. His hair is messy now and his eyes are fixed on the t-shirt he lent me, planning on taking it off as soon as possible. From where he stands he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed, my feet touching the floor and sitting there like a doll. His hands are placed on my waist under the t-shirt, caressing my body as he pushes it up, arms up and for a second I get struck when I get to see his face again, both of us semi-naked and getting more and more desperate for what’s about to happen. 

“Tell me, princess, what else do you want me to do?” Jake is almost touching my lips with his, the kiss from before hitting my mind and leaving me desperate for another one. I pull him by his neck onto my lips, clashing hard as we lay on the bed, him on top of me. As we are kissing, his hand snakes up to the pants that I’m wearing, pulling them slowly, leaving me completely naked. I waste no time and do the same to him, unsuccessfully though. He stops me and breaks the kiss, taking them off himself. My sight is indescribable, his naked body bathed by the warm light of the lamp and desire burning in his eyes. 

My hands travel from his shoulders to his hip bone, feeling the softness of his skin and his body heat. I touch his member, now hard and red, and Jake hisses at the feeling. I give it slow strokes, enjoying how his eyebrows stitch up and his mouth can only moan and whimper just cause of my touch. As I start going faster, he falls on his back on the bed, giving me full access to now suck him off. I get on top of him and slowly start with my tongue, tiny licks to the top and getting my saliva all around it. When it’s covered I put it all in my mouth, bottom it thanks to Jake pushing my head all the way down. He’s grabbing the back of my head, trying to regain some control over the situation but he’s very obviously gone. When he starts whining and whimpering I know he’s right there, going faster. He tries to stop me but fails miserably, cumming all in my mouth and face. 

“wow, you’re going strong y/n, I don’t know if I can keep up with you” he lays there breathing heavily as I’m cleaning my face, his sight lost on the ceiling. “Well the ball’s on your court now, how are you gonna pay me for the best blowjob you’ve received in your entire life?” I say cockily as I get close to his face. His eyes look at me, foggy and lost in lust and suddenly I see a spark in them, knowing instantly he has gotten an idea on how he’s gonna pay me. 

“Sit on my face, you’ve won it” Jake grabs my leg and gets it on the other side of his body, now I’m straddling his ribcage. His hands push me by my hips closer to his head, my hands grabbing the headboard so I don’t fall. I can feel Jake’s warm breath on my pussy, his plump lips just inches away from my heat. I feel his wet tongue first, circling around my clit and giving kitten licks as I’m desperately trying to not sit down on his head and choke him. When he starts using his tongue, lapping my folds with hunger I can’t control my sounds any longer and start moaning like I’m possessed. His lips feeling so good and skillfully mixing his mouth with two fingers I come fast on his face, losing all my strength and falling back onto the bed with his head still between my legs. A few minutes pass and I feel Jake getting up and moving my body by my ankles, placing me in the middle of the bed. 

“Did that feel good baby? I’ve never seen anyone react like that… it was so hot I also came with you, twice tonight already. And I haven’t even been inside you yet” Jake’s hair looks messy and sexy, especially knowing it’s because of our recent activities. His lips are even plumper if possible and a layer of sweat covers his chest and abs. I sit up and touch his body instinctively, caressing his hip bone and looking at him in the eyes. 

“Bend over baby” his strong arms flip me over, getting me on all fours. His eyes went straight to my drenched and pulsating pussy, placing himself right on my entrance. “Mhmm, it felt so good Jake…fuck I can’t take it any longer, please… just fuck me already”

He moves slowly, for a second unsure if he should be doing this, but when he stretches me so good that I moan loudly, his movements go crazy, railing me like an animal, his hair all stuck to his forehead and his eyes shut, trying to keep up with the pace. He bites his fist but is to no avail as moans just escape from his mouth, his movements going erratic and losing focus. I feel the bed move like it’s gonna break, my moans have become screams at this point and I’m lost in the feeling, my hair all over my face and sweat sticking the sheets onto my body. 

“Jake, Jake, I’m going to… I can’t hold it anymore… I’m gonna…” can’t even say a whole sentence, the feeling not letting me think properly as all I feel like the heat in my tummy is gonna explode at any second. 

“Do it, c’mon baby, I want to see you come on my dick, let it go…” Jake takes one of his hands to my clit, massaging it and making me come in seconds. I lose sight for a second, everything is blurry as I hear Jake moan loudly, coming inside me and falling on top of me. His head on my chest, I hug his head as we both recover our breaths, the moment feeling so intimate I can’t stop myself from giving him a kiss on the forehead.

I’m pretty sure we fell asleep like that for like fifteen minutes, hugging each other as all we had was each other’s body heat to keep warm. I wake up by the sound of scratching on the bedroom door, obviously being Leyla waiting for his owner to give her food. Jake gets up from top of me and walks to the door, closing it behind him as soon as Leyla starts jumping excitedly. I’m left there quite sad, missing how close we were just a few seconds ago. 

“Hey, sorry, I forgot to put water in Leyla’s bowl before and she was quite thirsty. But hey, I just turned the water on, do you want to take a bath? It’s probably hot by now” Jake is sitting on the border of the bed, caressing my tummy as I’m still too tired to get up. I look at him and feel a sense of dreadness, I don’t wanna lose whatever we have right now between each other. Leaving his house today could mean this is over, that we’re just a one-night stand for each other and that’s it.

I take his hand and he lifts me up from the bed, lending me a bathrobe so I don’t get cold on the way to the bathroom. when we get there, there’s a few candles lighten up and the whole room smells like lavender, calming and cozy. 

“Get in the bathtub, I’ll prepare some towels for when we get out” I step inside the bathtub, the warm water soothing my body from the intense workout. Jake gets into the bathtub and we’re sitting there looking at each other, just like we were at the restaurant earlier. I almost feel like crying, so I close my eyes and push my head back to rest on the wall.

“Are you good? you look super tired” Jake asks, but I don’t feel like answering right now or my voice will break. So he sits there, reaching for my hand and worried I’m actually in pain. But the pain it’s not physical, and I wish he had just let me go to my house by taxi today. I feel like shit right now, enjoying the last minutes of the most beautiful date I’ve ever been on. 

“Did I do something wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?” His tone was serious and worried, his eyes fixated on my face. I open my eyes and it’s obvious that I’m on the verge of tears, my eyes watery and red. 

“It’s okay, I’m just a bit tired, today has been a long day for me” 

“I don’t believe you, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. You looked so happy a few minutes ago coming on my dick, and now you’re tired? Do you think I’m gonna believe that? Please tell me what’s going on”

Jake sounds mad at me, scared that now everything’s done I’m acting so cold towards him. I can’t tell him the truth, it is so embarrassing and delusional that I might scare him off. 

“It’s okay Jake, I just need to go home and sleep a little bit. I had fun don’t be mistaken, but I think is time I go back to my bed and keep on going with my life” I come off as a bitch, looking for a way out of this conversation that was gonna end by me ridiculizing myself in front of the hottest man I know. If I give him the idea that I’m always up for something casual I might get to see him again. 

“I don’t know what the fuck has happened for you to say this, but if you want to sleep here I have no issue with it if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought we had a great time tonight, maybe I’ve been a bit rough or you didn’t feel comfortable with me… I don’t know if you’re under the impression that I have used you to have sex but you couldn’t be more mistaken”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being the distant sound of the TV in the living room and Leyla walking around the house outside the bathroom door. I look at him and his eyes are lost, a hundred thoughts going through his head, trying to find where it went wrong tonight.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I actually hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. I guess I’m a bit sensitive since it was a bit too… intimate. Like, this is just a hookup, I shouldn’t be feeling this way about what we have done but… I wish It had meant more for the both of us”

“Listen y/n, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. I was very excited to go with you tonight since I thought we had great chemistry on our back-and-forth texts. I do feel different about you than I have felt about any other woman I have talked to on that damn app…”

I look at him and his arms are resting on each side of the bathtub, his skin glistening and a perfect view of his chest. It makes me crave for a hug in the comfort of his embrace. 

“I like you more than I thought I would so early into knowing each other. I have enjoyed this night with you so much that’s gonna screw me up forever, being honest” I confess, my head turned to the wall so I don’t see his reaction to such a statement. 

I don’t have to look at him, his arms grabbing mine and getting me closer to him. His lips on mine, so fierce and hungry, I’ve lost control of the situation and now I’m just being french kissed as water splashes everywhere, my legs on each side of his lap.

“Me too…  I felt like a dumbass, being so intense… I don’t wanna let you go, ever” his kisses move to my neck and chest, and my hands can’t do much but hold his hair on my fist as I try not to moan too loudly at 4 a.m.

The next morning I lay there, on his bed. The sheets are everywhere, victims of our last night endeavours. A subtle smell of coffee and toasted bread comes into the bedroom, getting me up instantly and wandering to the kitchen. 

There he is, early morning with wet hair from the shower and a clean black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla runs around the kitchen, excited about her breakfast just as I am. When I walk into his vision, Jake looks at me with the brightest smile and comes to hug me, kissing my head and caressing my back. 

“Good morning baby, did you rest well?” his warmth irradiating through his t-shirt and feeling incredibly comforting.

“Yeah I did, I haven’t slept this well in a long time” I snuggle on his chest, his arms reaching for the frypan and moving it aside, so the scrambled eggs don’t burn. 

When we’re done with the breakfast, a long silence between us arises. It’s comfortable but at the same time, it scares me that it'll make us talk about our feelings. Thankfully Layla jumps on my lap, wanting to play with me. If this ends I’m also gonna miss her and I just met her. 

“Damn, Layla has never acted like this with anyone before, it’s crazy… She likes you a lot. It's just like she has accepted you’re her mom or something haha” Jake says, fascinated by how his dog is acting towards a total stranger to her, like she has known me since forever.  

“So… does Layla need a mom?”

“Yeah, her dad needs a mom too” Jake looks at me and we start laughing, filling the house with the sound of our laughter, the smell of toast and a happy Layla, who gets to have a mom from that day on.

[writerbugg]

Good Luck

Chapter # 2 Welcome to the Mansion

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

I made this a bit ago so have mercy :,)

Wattpad

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (You are Here), Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

The only thing I like about rich people is their money. - Nancy Astor

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

"Welcome back Master Bruce. Oh? I see you brought a guest with you."

Bruce and Y/n arrived at the mansion, the air around them a little lighter with Alfred there. Y/n takes a quick look around, admiring the large building.

"Alfred, can you call Richard and tell him I need to see him tonight?" Bruce asks as he guides Y/n into the mansion. "I need to introduce them to our guests."

She follows Bruce, shooting Alfred a smile on her way in, and Alfred returns the smile with one of his own.

──●◎●──

Bruce takes Y/n over to the dining hall, where food was already prepared and set on the table. The food looked heavenly from the medium rare steak to the soft fluffy mashed potatoes.

There were already two boys sitting at the table, enjoying the meal prepared. A shorter boy with tan skin and black spiked hair who looked to be around Jon's age (17-18), and a taller boy with a paler complexion and flatter hair, looked like a young college student (20-21).

Damien and Tim.

Tim glances up, hearing familiar footsteps of his father, but does a double take when he sees Y/n walking alongside him.

"Bruce, why's Y/n here? Don't tell me you convinced Clark to allow her to become a Robin." Bruce looked over at Tim with a stern face, not finding what Tim said funny.

"No. She's here because she mysteriously lost her memories this morning." Both boys give Bruce looks of disbelief. "Clark believes that this memory loss is targeted." Bruce finished.

Tim looks at Y/n, curious. "Wait, you actually don't remember us?"

She shakes her head, "No, sorry." A silence hangs over everyone while Bruce and Y/n both take their seat.

The food was good, but the mood in the room ruined it. It was tense, and Y/n could feel eyes boring into her, what kind of relationship did she have with the Wayne family? Clark didn't seem to be fond of them, but they seemed to know her.

Did something happen between Clark and Bruce recently?

"Y/n," Bruce interrupts Y/n's internal thoughts. "Most of the rooms here are taken, so for the next month you'll be staying in Jason's old room."

...are you fucking serious.

──●◎●──

After a quick tour, Bruce had split off, allowing Y/n to continue by herself. She had wandered over the library and decided that some light reading would be a welcomed distraction.

Looking at a few shelves, Y/n spots ' The Great Gatsby ', a classic from where she comes from. Y/n gets on her toes, trying to reach it, but fails. Gods, she already misses being adult height.

"Need help kid?"

Y/n swirls around, looking to see who was talking to her. A much taller man with a brown leather jacket and black hair with a splotch of white in it stood behind her, his green eyes were piercing, so vibrant and... alive.

"Oh," Y/n muttered to herself. This must be Jason. He smiled and lowered himself to her level (The audacity) and smiled at Y/n.

"Something wrong Y/n? You look like you've spotted a ghost."

──●◎●──

Bruce runs his hands through his hair as he stares at the computer. He should have known this would happen.

Picking up a file, he looks through the blueprints inside of it. He doesn't have a lot of time, Clark was going to get suspicious soon, and if this is interrupted then they will lose everything.

"Please, forgive me Y/n. I swear I only do this to protect you."

──●◎●──

Chapter 3

[strawberrysainz]

secret garden. charles leclerc

“ charles joining you on holiday was definitely not planned. you begin to have small revelations. is it the wine, or are you truly thinking about his lips on yours? ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning— crude language, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, slightly mature. some shitty french, italian, spanish.

word count: 4.1k

Your book seems to begin to blur as the lethargy of a Sunday at five o’clock tends to do what it does best; make you sleepy.

That, and your previous glass of wine seemed to be catching up to you.

The universe sends a saviour in the shape of your friend Lila: she pokes your stomach so you that look up through your sunglasses. You shut the book. It’s something about a twenty-something girl in the 1960s, who joins a hippie cult, and the facts make your head spin (you really couldn’t be arsed to focus while the wine makes you drowsy). You pause the playlist on your phone to look expectantly up at her. She’s a little bit drunk too; her hair is mussed up from laying down on the lounger. The Italian sun was perfect today, white wine flowing while you both tanned the day away. Lila had invited you to her fiancé’s (he worked for Ferrari) house in Tuscany for a week in the summer. It was picturesque and romantic, but he had to work for much of it and she wanted to spend the time with a person who was there constantly. With a getaway promised years ago, she finally followed through, and your second day was just as lovely as the first.

“Up for padel?”

“You mean… le sport?” You answer, giggling slightly. “The wine is in my head now, ma chérie.” You tease affectionately and she begins to tidy up her things to go inside. “Yes, le sport,” she mocks, “‘Tonio invited us to play.” “With who as the fourth?” You ask curiously; Antonio had lamented all day yesterday that he was ‘third wheeling, alone’. Lila pauses to focus on the question, delightfully tipsy, and her hand tries to fold the towel as she thinks. “He invited Charles to come stay too, they will train and plot for the season’s second half together. Now we will third wheel on them.”

You nod then, smiling, and pack up, giggling to yourself about the looks you’ll get from those two when you turn up fabulously drunk. “Is it a hazard to play padel with athletes when the wine makes me slow?”

Lila cackles, bumping her sunglasses back up on her face, sliding on her sundress. “Tonio might flip out on us for being useless, he’s so competitive against Charles. Charles is too nice to say anything. I hope I am his partner.” She snorts, and you laugh too.

“I hope Charles brought proper drinks too. Last time we had a party at Lando’s, that tequila he brought…” you sigh at the memory. “I hope he’s also on summer mode. No offence chérie, but your boy cannot switch off unless he has a friend.” You poke fun at the fact that he will only drink one glass of wine with supper and refuse to get drunk as fuck with the two of you. Lila hits you with the pillow.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

You two Uber to the padel courts Antonio frequents in Italy, too scared to drive (rightfully so, you’re a bit shitfaced). You drink bottles and bottles of water, staring into each other’s eyes to try and sober up, but the dopey looks make you burst out laughing each time.

You end up napping for ten minutes, trying to sleep off the wine. Then you pat each other’s faces, blinking and blinking, but you end up giving up. Padel with two competitive men will be more fun not sober. When the driver drops you off, he tells you he is praying for whoever you speak to in the next minutes. You two end up in tears of laughter from God knows what. It ends with a hefty euro tip, some swear words and catching Lila from falling onto the street. Eventually you make it to the courts, picking up the two racquets the boys left for you on a bench, and you stare at Lila. “I hope we survive this.” You say seriously, and she salutes. You are in peals of laughter when you reach their court.

Charles stares at the two of you with amusement as you nearly trip over the entrance. “Avez-vous bu tous les deux?” He asks, and he receives just a wink from you, pointing at the small wine stain on Lila’s shirt.

He stifles a cackle as Lila goes to kiss Antonio sloppily, who kisses her reluctantly before gently scolding her in Italian. “Tonio, mon rêleuse, we apologise. We have only received your invitation when the wine was flowing. We also bring a level of entertainment.” You announce, brandishing the racquet. Your bluntness makes even Antonio smile. “Alright, alright. I was planning to put you two together, but maybe we’ll each pair with a drunkard, no?” He nods at Charles, who smiles.

��I’ll look after my girlfriend.” He adds, and Lila groans. “No! I wanted to play with Charles, he’s better at padel.” Antonio looks the most hurt you’ve ever seen a man be.

“Le spectacle de merde.” You whisper, at least you think it is a whisper, to Charles. “Ouais,” he giggles. You smack his arm affectionately. “Tu es tellement adorable,” you say, pursing your lips in a sweet way, and he hugs you with one arm, rubbing your back. “Laisse le vin continuer à parler, oui?”

The way in which you solidly keep hitting the ball on the wire makes him laugh.

Antonio cannot keep himself from raging at the two of you being useless, and tries to calm himself down; Lila falls on the court laughing at his aggressive muttering. You cry with laughter every time she misses the ball (which is more often than not) which leads Charles to request a glass of the wine you had been drinking. Padel has never been more fun, in your opinion: your grip gets looser and your shots stronger with every point. Charles carries your team, and you exchange a fist bump every time. Eventually you two win 11-10, and Lila jumps over the net clumsily to congratulate you both. Carlos settles for a reluctant high five. “Antonioooo…” you drag out his name, and the ridiculous grief of a tiny loss on his face makes you grin. “Can you make your tagliatelle?”

Lila clamours for it too, and he groans. “Whatever.” You two jump into each other’s arms; you end up getting another Uber back to shower and change so the boys can stop and grocery shop as well as buy you drinks, ‘not wine!’ under your instruction. When they get back, you’re slightly more sober, having showered and changed into a bikini (for a night swim) and a linen set over it.

Lila is asleep with her head on the kitchen counter while Charles pours you a rum and raspberry. You’re grateful for the different drink, the headache beginning to pound its way into your head. Antonio starts on the pasta, and you three talk about how their training was, how your poolside day went, the tourists in the city this week, paddock gossip and Charles’ new piano song, which he plays a recording of for you.

“That’s very good,” you compliment, and he blushes. Antonio is busy stirring the sauce while you have revelations. Charles clears his throat, locking the phone, and you set the table. “I’m making scones tonight,” you announce, and in the early stages of waking, Lila cheers with a yawn.

“With what?” Antonio challenges, and you wink. “I brought all the ingredients with. Jam and whipping cream. We can have some for breakfast tomorrow.” “Gotta train harder for that!” Lila jokes, flicking Charles’ arm, who giggles in that stupidly funny way.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Stomachs full and content, you and Lila float in the light of the pool. Occasionally you swat a mosquito out of your face, and your second R&R slowly slips away. “Still making the scones?” She asks, and you yawn. “Merde.”

You both laugh.

“Ti piace Cha?”

You stare at her.

“Sei pazzo? He’s most likely got some European model waiting for him in Monaco.”

“Ho visto come ti guardava.”

Your head hurts.

“Ma chérie, Cha could not look at me twice. There is nothing.” Lila makes a disapproving sound, and you splash her.

“Ho sempre pensato che non avrebbe mai potuto-“

Charles and Antonio, holding beers, make their way from the house to the pool. You shut up. You notice that they’ve also been drinking quite heavily, like you two- Charles is much too giggly, and Antonio has that drunken seriousness to him. They sit on the edge of the pool. “Where are those scones?” Antonio asks, and you roll your eyes. “Maybe I’ll make them fresh in the morning.” You yawn, making Charles do the same.

“Cazzata!” He replies, and you laugh with Lila. “Promise. I want to go horse riding tomorrow morning, the farm across the way said I could when we went with the dogs.” Lila shakes her head. “¡No puedo enfrentarme a un caballo, especialmente contigo!”

You snort. Antonio downs the beer. Charles is staring at the moon. “You okay?” You raise your eyebrows. “Just remembering last time I went riding.”

There is an awkward silence.

You can’t gauge his tone, and you make eye contact with Lila, frowning. “Well, if anyone wants to come, I would love to have them.” You clear your throat, and Antonio shakes his head. “Gym tomorrow.” Charles groans, putting down the beer. “Putain!” “You’ll have scones when you finish then,” you smile, and make to get out. “I’m going to bed if I want to get up at seven.”

Everyone wishes you a good night, and you make your way up to your room, still uneasy about Charles at the pool.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Your third day in Tuscany continues as you walk into the house; you are greeted by the dogs. The door was unlocked - a classic sign of Antonio leaving - so you knew the boys had left. You opened the large windows after taking off your boots, letting the fresh morning air in. You yawn as you put on a playlist, beginning to bake as the soft sounds of music accompany you to it.

About fifteen minutes later the scones are in the oven, and you set out some things to eat them with - as the plates clink, you hear Lila walking downstairs. “Hi,” she drags out the syllable - you smile at her ruffled brown hair - a dog is leaping up at her - and you wish her a good morning, making coffee for the both of you. She comes to sit on a bar stool, and you grimace at the remembrance of last night - where she slept for a moment or so - and she seems to recall the same. “How did you get up at seven?” She laughs. “My head was killing me.”

You laugh. “I have no clue.” “Wasn’t Charles weird last night? Or was I just drunk.” “No, he was so weird.” You are hungry to gossip (you had gone to bed before you could debrief.) “What the fuck was he on?”

Lila covers her mouth, laughing. Yet again, before you can gossip, the loud sound of the front door opening stops you. You groan and take the scones out of the oven. “Good morning!” Antonio says aloud, and you nod at the two walking in.

Lila kisses him on the cheek. “We have been hard at work.”

You grin. “How was neck day?” Charles rolls his eyes. “As incredible as you think it was.”

You laugh then, putting the hot scones on a plate. “Merde, did you do these from scratch? That’s so good.” “You burn eggs and toast, mate. Anything is so good in your eyes.” Antonio nudges Charles, who blushes furiously and smacks his arm.

You stare at Lila. She mouths some unfathomable sentence to you and you shrug as Antonio reaches for a scone. Your phone starts ringing, interrupting this strange situation, and you answer it. “Salut maman.” You answer.

“Ma chérie, comment est la Toscane? Les bons jours d'été avec toi me manquent, mon amour.”

You make a face that’s screwed up with childish embarrassment. “Tu me manques et la famille aussi, oui ? Je dois revenir en France pour visiter.”

“Papa t'envoie du champagne des cousins, et nous allons faire livrer des fleurs. Notre fille nous manque.”

“Pourquoi tant d'amour ?” You laugh.

“Sans raison.” She says innocently, and you stare at Lila, confused.

“Ton frère va se marier!”

“Quoi!” You shout, grasping your chest.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The news of your brother’s engagement leaves you still slightly concerned as Charles hands you some sort of cocktail. You take a sip and grimace at the ratio of rum to whatever else is in there. Charles laughs. “Haven’t they been together for a while?”

You shake your head, detailing that you’d met his fiancé - albeit a nice man - only once before. Antonio laughs. Lila smacks his arm. “You haven’t proposed yet, you cannot laugh.” Antonio’s face is a picture as you gasp for breath with laughter.

The sun sets on a slow evening as you laze by the pool with these people; you adore being in their company, you realise. You are still shaking your head with shock. “I can’t believe my brother is the first sibling to be married,” you grimace, and Charles laughs. “Which Leclerc will marry first, you think?” You ask him. “I don’t know. I think Lorenzo, because Arthur’s young. Definitely not me.” He emphasises with a face, and you laugh.

Hours later, you tell stories of your and Lila’s university days while the boys laugh, details of hookups and too much alcohol paint pictures of pure comedy. “Anyone want a scone?” You announce, going to make one in the kitchen. “I’ll come with,” Charles says politely, leaving the couple to themselves.

You end up pouring another R&R while you spread jam and cream, not eager to experience your hangover tomorrow morning. “Je suis un putain d’alcoolique.” Charles dismisses the thought. “S'il vous plaît, vous n'êtes pas spécial.”

You laugh. “It’s nice that you’re here. I always wanted to get to know you better.” You say off topic, switching to English, the languages getting mixed up in your slowed down mind. Charles laughs and pats your arm. “A drink makes you very emotional,” he jokes, and you make a face. “Be quiet.” “Let’s take a picture!” You switch up, mind spinning, and Charles is laughing as he takes pictures of you making scones with slow limbs, dancing, smiling, spinning.

You take a 0,5 of him in return, laughing at the weird expression on his face. You take selfies, air kissing, pulling faces, until your phone tells you you’re out of storage, and the moment is over, lipstick on his face. You laugh. He’s quiet.

“I can wipe it off,” you say quietly, trying not to ruin the comfortable energy in the kitchen. He lets you do it tenderly with a baby wipe, big expressive eyes staring into yours, wide with the relaxation of alcohol flowing through him. He leans in and you lurch back, shocked at the prospect of you two.

He pretends like he didn’t do anything, the little shit, and your eyes narrow as you pinch his ear. He cries out in pain, and tries to get you back, but you’re running with the scones in one hand and the drink in the other, cackling into the dark night, the comfort of the warmth.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The next morning is rough.

You’re woken up with a lurching stomach, violently hungover. You decide a swim under the Italian sun is going to help, and change, going to the pool. Antonio is there, swimming laps, and you hover awkwardly around the pool before getting in. He greets you softly, not wanting to disturb the birds chirping down at the vineyard and the peace of the morning. “There’s this song,” you say, dipping your head into the cool water, relishing this delightful feeling that comes with the activity of swimming like a child. “I used to listen to it every day of my last year of uni. It’s this song that makes me feel so great inside. And I realise that I feel that way when I’m with all of you. Thank you for inviting me.” Antonio looks touched, as much as a guy could at that revelation. “You’ve still got three days with me. That could change your mind.”

You laugh, diving underwater.

From the kitchen window, Lila and Charles are talking, unbeknownst to you. She grabs his arm aggressively as he moves to take the fresh cup of coffee. “Do you like her?” He jumps with fright. “Merde- she’s very nice?”

Lila raises her eyebrows.

He groans. “You aren’t going to ask me if I like like her as if I’m twelve.” “Charles!” She folds her arms, and he casts his gaze to you lazing in the pool.

“No.” He says stubbornly, and he might have convinced her but he hasn’t convinced himself. Lila lets out a huff as she turns back to the breakfast she’s making; he looks down at the floor.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles offers you wine. You nearly smack the bottle out of his hand. “No.”

The early afternoon is the precursor to your declaration of sobriety for the day; you and Lila take the dogs for another walk, getting dragged by their leashes as they leap and bound. You end up at the gym with her afterwards, sweating out your fatigue, and you try not to stare at Charles as he and Antonio walk in. Another game of padel is offered afterwards, and you two accept, playing away yet another lovely day and beginning of the evening. You’re much better at padel when you’re sober.

Then Antonio and Charles want to go clubbing, and you agree wearily, going back with them to change into some little strappy top and skirt. You have never decided your stance on clubbing - you love a night out somewhere, but the thought of it annoys you now, the prospect of a night in after a long bath sounding much better.

You and Lila pretend you’re back in your uni days, dark eyeshadow and dramatic makeup, perfume stinking up the room. You laugh at the two of you as you slip on some high heels, red lipstick everywhere, mascara accidentally smudging as you absentmindedly wipe your face.

You fix it before you’re running down to the car when you hear Antonio shouting about your tardiness. It’s a 4x4, and you slide chaotically into the middle seat next to Charles, Lila hopping in afterwards, your knee touching Charles’, skirt riding up. You let out a breath as Antonio has a bit of a nostalgic moment - he met Lila on a night just like this, with you two, at a club in Madrid.

“I feel nineteen again,” you laugh, seven years ago finding you again, the smell of Charles’ cologne rooting you back in the present. The driver is chattering on about Ferrari as you get Charles to take pictures of you and Lila, posing, then judging the pictures, high-fiving him for his great photography skills. You post one to your story, all wide eyes and pouty lips, and your followers begin to reply things about all those years ago.

You’re at the club twenty minutes later, a Khalid song sending you out of the car. You grab Lila’s arm and hug her, intensely nostalgic. Charles demands more pictures of you - Antonio agrees - you two must look good. He takes more, and then you’re all taking photos in the street light, and you’re handing your phone to some random girl who takes photos of all of you. She mumbles something in Italian and Charles thanks her very much before you’re all bundled into the club.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles comes to drape his arm over your shoulder an hour later, sweaty, and he’s got lip gloss on his lips. You point at your own lips pointedly and he exclaims something that’s lost in the noise. He lifts up his shirt to wipe his sticky lips and your gaze is caught on his abs as his hand brushes his chest. You look away hurriedly.

A dull ache propels you onto the dance floor, and some guy leans in to kiss you and you let him, annoyed and jealous. But his breath smells terrible, stale, and you’re pulling away, shuddering, and run to the bar for some water.

You’re still retching like a cat with a hairball ten minutes later when Charles finds you again, and he laughs with confusion. You roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you shout in his ear, and he follows you, a hand ghosting your back. You shiver and run out into the heat.

You pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and you light one hurriedly, the taste of that guy still horrid in your mouth.

You offer the cig, lipstick-stained, and Charles hesitates before you shrug. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, and you shrugged. “Only when I’m out.”

He nods then; you lift up the cigarette to his lips. He takes a drag, eyes shining outside the fluorescent light of the club. You breathe, and you can see a teenager standing beside you instead of a man in his twenties, sneaking a smile and a smoke in secret.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

It’s 2:26. You scroll on your phone as Charles talks lowly on the phone beside you (Leila and Antonio found some friends and decided to stay). You stare out at the moon, the light highlighting your face as you look back at Charles briefly. He’s already looking, and smiles slowly, bashful to have been caught. You can’t hide a smile.

His hand is laying tentatively on the middle seat, and your hand is on your knee. You both stare.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

He’s pulling out a bottle of wine as you tumble into the house, the night welcoming you back to the villa. Your eyes are wide and his focussed on the glasses in his hand, walking carefully out onto the patio. You fall into a slightly uncomfortable metal chair and he pours a glass in the dark, squinting as you hear some crickets. You accept a glass with a quiet thanks and he sits down next to you clumsily, and the wine sloshes out onto his shirt and he curses quietly. You grin.

One of the dogs pad out onto the wood and the click of its nails makes your nose scrunch and it tries to jump on your lap; with a groan you attempt to shove it off and Charles gets up, laughing, pushing, and somehow he ends up staring into your eyes, bending down, and some force of nature propels you to capture his lips with yours. You let out a little sigh as he wraps a hand in your hair, and he’s pulling you up and the glass is forgotten and it’s twilight hours in the dark.

The trembling anticipation of a new lover ignites a new energy there outside. You wrap an arm around his neck and you both push forward against each other. It’s the kind of kiss where everything just works; your lips slot so perfectly, and his hair feels soft beneath your hazy movements.

The dog interrupts by licking your knee, and you move backward with a shudder. He’s moving in again, shoulders taut, and his arms are smooth as your hands grasp them, bodies moving sensually under the light of the crescent moon above.

Your watch beeps and you look down to see a notification from Lila. You ignore it. Charles is instead running fluid hands over your hips, liquid gold, and you’re melting, drowning in the heavy look in his eyes. It’s as if the puzzle piece has just slotted into place. A newfound frenzy causes you to pull him slowly into the house, bare feet meeting the dark wood below. You nearly crash into a glass window before you’re in the kitchen, and he’s bending your back slightly over a counter, finding your neck with his lips, nipping, sucking, and you’re parting your lips with delight, body moving with his.

His facial hair is scruffy, and the sensation causes you to arch a little and he slams you back down. You moan.

He grins.

A hand flits up your back, under the shirt, feeling the skin, and you shiver when he rubs a thumb over a piece of your spine, and he’s leaning back to study you, cheeks pink in the dark, and he goes back in for a kiss, smiling broadly.

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 1.0 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Character Moodboard

Bradley spends the night. Venice changes things.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, explicit pictures, making out, arguing, deception, 18+ minors dni, wc: 5.2k

…

“Sure,” There’s this underlying feeling that he should feel more awkward about this than he does. If he thought too hard about it, he would certainly start to consider the more embarrassing side of the predicament he has found himself in. “If you want.”

When the main focus of his day, for the past four years, has been sex in its various forms, it comes to be such a natural topic, that sometimes Bradley forgets that it’s a taboo. Well, he had been able to forget, until he came across you.

He must be out of his mind. Something to do with the phase of the moon, or his sleeping patterns, or… just the way you’re fucking looking at him. Your skin flushed with heat. He can see you’re warm without touching. Those soft sounds you made for him are fresh in his mind.

You’re sitting on the bed in front of him, one knee crossed over the other in your sweet, patterned wrap dress, staring up at him with eyes teaming with curiosity, and shame. So much, all at once. He can see you, sitting there and making it so complicated, frightening yourself.

It’s all so simple, really. He just wants to make it simple for you.

He starts by clearing his throat and shooting a glance downward at his tented jeans. “You don’t have to touch—“

“I just want to see… one… up close.” You tell him, heat spreading across your cheeks as you lift your gaze to look him in the eye. The sound of your own desires out loud is something that makes you shudder. You pull back slightly, and shift against the bed.

Bradley’s eyes dart downward again, at the pried open zipper, torn loose belt, and the straining bulge in his jeans, then presses his lips together in a moment of silent consideration.

With you, he has never been so unsure of himself.

“How long have you been engaged for, again?” He asks you, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. Your eyes widen just slightly. Not because you’re a woman being reminded of her infidelity, something else entirely. Something about Malcolm, Bradley just knows it.

“Alright, alright,” Bradley sighs, considering briefly how a person should go about this. His art classes come to mind — he stood naked pretty freely then, this is no different to that. Except he wasn’t supposed to be hard in those classes. “Don’t feel like you have to do anything.”

You push yourself upright as he steps off of the bed and squares his shoulders slightly. Hands settled politely in your lap and your posture perfect, Bradley can’t pretend he isn’t a little bit thrown off. It doesn’t change anything.

Sex and curiosity are natural forces, and neither one are something to be ashamed of. He feels like he’s convincing himself of that more than anything.

Your attention is caught by the light from the lamp catching on the gold of his necklace as he stands up a little straighter, and then promptly torn away as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one slow movement. And there it is. In your peripheral, you’re expressly aware that it’s there, in all of its aggressiveness. You fight not to just stare.

Following the line down his sternum and across the taut, tanned skin of his stomach, across plains of soft brown hair, your eyes grow wide once again. Then, you squint. He watches you fight to control your expression.

The question is written, quite clearly, all over Bradley’s face. He’s wondering how you have managed to be in a relationship for as long as you have, without seeing a penis in the flesh. But you have. You’re not that naive — and Malcolm isn’t that pliant.

You inhale slowly, staring at what is directly in front of you. Bradley’s body is unassuming under those ill-fitting clothes, but not once he’s out of them. Far from it, in fact. Another time, you might have spent more time looking at the big picture, exactly how Herculean Bradley’s body looks. For now, it’s hard to focus on anything but what’s between his legs.

Bradley hasn’t ever felt this fidgety with his clothes off before. Your gaze on him makes him nervous — and that’s weird — he can’t remember the last time a woman made him nervous. Actually, he can, but that was a long time ago.

Your eyes look dark in the dim illusion of the dust-brushed lamp, and the streetlights outside. A thatch of neatly-trimmed dark hair sits across his pelvis, following down from the line of his navel, sitting perfectly between the two deep V’s that trail from his hips.

There’s a moment before you remind yourself to feel some shame in the unabashed way you’re staring at him like some kind of drooling loon. Blinking, you lift your chin and look him in the eye, pressing your thighs together.

He isn’t looking at you like there’s something wrong with you. After observing the almost perverse way you were studying him, he’s watching you with nothing in his eyes but faint amusement.

You know instantly that he wouldn’t hold this against you. Anything you chose to do, or not to do, he wouldn’t feel any differently about you either way. You’re certain. That doesn’t change anything. You sigh and lean back on your palms.

“You’re circumsized.” You note.

His mouth twitches as he pulls his jeans back up to cover himself again. “It was all the rage in ‘53.”

Your brows scrunch together just slightly, watching him buckle his belt. “You’re older than Sports Illustrated, you know that?”

Bradley seems to think for a moment. He can’t pretend to have been familiar with Sports Illustrated in his childhood more than seeing it being read by fathers of friends that he had.

“How do you know when that was? — Didn’t peg you as a fan.” Bradley reaches around you for his shirt.

“I wrote a piece on it in my Freshman year. It was my first Ivy League perfect score.” You tell him, but when he turns, you aren’t smiling. His mouth pulls down at the corners as he sinks fo his knees in front of you, brushing his fingers softly over your cheek. “My father tore it to shreds. He was so angry about what I had written.”

Bradley sets his shirt on the ground and squeezes your knee softly. “What was it about?”

“Daddy has been an investor in the magazine since 1961,” You explain to him, your mouth finally twitching up into a small, less-than-amused smile. Bradley’s thumbs circle soft patterns along your thighs. “I wrote a case study into the swimsuit issue, and the argument that it presents women as a product for consumption. He was furious. I thought he was going to throw his dinner at me.”

Bradley’s face changes. He doesn’t like the way you’re telling him this with a smile on your face. But, he isn’t going to start an argument about your father tonight.

“Which side of the argument did your essay fall on?” He asks, lifting his chin to look at you. You smile at him, and shrug your shoulders.

“I thought it was a dirty magazine then, I think that it’s a dirty magazine now.”

Bradley huffs out a small sound of amusement and lets his head fall forwards to rest against your knee. “One of these days, I’m going to get a real answer out of you. You know that?”

He wants to know more, and the idea for once doesn’t terrify you. Your mouth tugs at a smile as he kisses your leg softly.

“Will you still stay tonight?” You ask him, lifting your chin to look up at his face. He makes a soft sound of consideration, then pulls a face. “Please?”

“Okay.”

It’s strange, and you know that Bradley would think so, that you have never shared a bed with a man overnight before. Back in Ithaca, you’ve got a spacious off-campus room in a three bedroom apartment that your father pays for and never visits. Malcolm could stay over ever night for all anyone else knows.

But, you have never invited him to.

It would be cruel to make Bradley sleep in his clothes, you know that too. So, when you come back from the bathroom with the taste of peppermint toothpaste on your tongue, and slip into bed beside him, you try to be prepared for it.

It’s not so bad. It’s a mild night, the window is cracked and there’s a chilled breeze passing through the room. Bradley’s bare arm is warm as yours grazes it. Reaching out blindly, you flick the bedside lamp off without opening your eyes.

Beside you, Bradley’s mouth pulls at the corners.

“Are you going to stay over there all night?” He asks into the dark. He hears you fidget, your skin brushing against the sheets.

“Yeah.”

He snorts a soft chuckle and turns onto his side, draping a heavy arm across your middle, curling his fingers around your hip. Your muscles spasm and your middle goes rigid as he drags you unceremoniously closer to him, leaving you with no choice but to consider how he feels without his clothes on.

Arms straight, practically statuesque, your attempts to remain still fail as the knuckle of your ring and little fingers graze the white cotton of his boxers.

His warm breath fans across your shoulder as he pulls you closer, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Relax, honey. It’s just me.”

His palm splays open across your front, his bare chest firm against your back. Calvin Klein white cotton boxers are loose, and breathable, and through the dark your mind instantly takes you back to what you saw earlier.

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you close your eyes and will yourself to settle. Behind you, Bradley doesn’t seem to be having the same struggle. You can hear his breathing growing deeper, his weight leaning into you just a little more.

The Polaroid picture. His thick thighs bracketing Natasha’s naked chest. Her lips parted into a perfect circle. You think of how he made you feel earlier, him grunting into your skin as his hand worked under the thick denim of his jeans.

“Why’s your heart beating like that?” Bradley mumbles into the curve of your neck, practically making you jolt out of your skin against him. “Hey, hey… are you alright?”

His hand strokes softly at your arm as he lifts his head and tries to lean forward to get a peek at your face.

“Mhm,” You squeak softly, closing your eyes and pressing back against him. “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

His lips quirk through the dark of the room as he hugs his arm tight around your middle, turning his face into your skin and kissing softly at your neck.

You don’t wake with the sunrise, or with the sound of an alarm. Instead, you wake with a tingling in your legs, and skin against your cheek. Your thigh is slotted between Bradley’s, he’s got one arm cradling you to him, and he’s snoring softly in your ear.

Even with a soft groan, and the attempt to stretch your arms, Bradley doesn’t budge. His warm chest rises and falls against your cheek, the smell of his skin drawing you in like a lullaby. Sleep threatens to come for you again, but you can hear birds chirping. It’s got to be time to get up soon.

He must be on the verge of consciousness himself, hugging you closer, turning his nose toward your hair, nuzzling into your skin.

“Bradley?” You hum. Nothing but birds chirping, breeze from the city outside. “Bradley?” As you nudge him, there’s nothing again.

Pushing against his chest, you wriggle free of his grasp and prop yourself on your palm. He blinks, face pulling into a frown as he lifts his head to look around him.

“What’s up? — What time is it?” He mutters, his voice deep with sleep as his brown eyes try to focus through the morning light. You don’t know, and you make no effort to check. Instead, you lean forwards and kiss his lips. One soft peck, your palm bracing against the hot muscle of his chest.

He hums out a pleased noise, following you onto your back and pressing his weight against you, challenging you with a deeper kiss. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands bunch at your nightgown, taking advantage of his new shorter length to shove it up around your waist without issue.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what time it is anymore. Or that he never rejoined the group last night. Nothing matters but the way his weight feels on top of you, his warmth grounding you into the mattress, his taut stomach pressing against your soft skin as he slots his thigh between yours.

There’s something familiar about it, creeping at you like a chill. His hands are strictly stuck to the safest parts of your body: your thighs, your waist, your face. He’s kissing you so passionately that you’re dizzy with the sense of him, and he’s so gentle with his hands — but there’s a discomfort itching at you that just won’t leave.

Then, the alarm clock on the bedside table rings out loud. He pulls back with a soft breath.

“I… I should go.” He realizes, trying not to commit too much attention to his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. You swallow softly, trying to do exactly the same.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. As he busies himself with getting dressed, you’re certain that you should be overcome with shame of the things you’ve gotten up to so far. The feeling just doesn’t come. Some grand delay, or perhaps you’ve turned a page, but you can’t find it in you to mind either.

The itinerary for the day is changed by Natasha’s sudden appearance, just like everything else has been. With her and Doctor Mancini being in town, Bradley seemed to think that their insight would be useful for the group. As he walks into the lobby ten minutes later than he should be and spots her standing with her arms folded, looking at you like dirt on her shoe, he starts to think that he was wrong.

“Ah, here he is! — Good Morning, Bradley.” Pasquale greets with a grin, patting Bradley’s shoulder as the professor joins the group. “Well, we’ve already gone over the briefing and we’ve got a lot to see today. Let’s get going!”

Bradley agrees with a nod and gestures for the group to walk ahead of him. The sun is already high in the sky and warming the city, the breeze is slow today, barely there. It’ll be worse when they move further inland after this.

He pushes one hand into his pocket and sweeps his damp curls back with the other. Ray-Ban caravans and a t-shirt that would only fit right if he was a size bigger, sports socks peeking over the top of his eye tops. He dresses younger than thirty-three and he’s always been gorgeous.

Natasha walks by his side, staring at the back of your head with contempt. Cute outfit you’re wearing. She wonders if the man who put a ring on your finger would like it.

“So, did you take her virginity?” She asks coolly, meaning it with every ounce of venom with which she had spit it. She hadn’t really taken great comfort in hearing the way your peers had mocked you last night. Just because you apparently won’t put out for you fiancé, doesn’t mean you are immune to Bradley’s charms.

“No.” He answers, lengthening his stride. He doesn’t care to learn which one of them told her about you.

“This is a new low. I can’t believe you’re being this stupid.” She shakes her head, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she walks.

All at once, Bradley stops walking and rounds on her. She wobbles, her expensive loafer dipping between the cobbled floor and making her wobble. “Me? — What the fuck were you trying to pull with those pictures?”

When he’s up close, standing under the summer sun and staring at her, it’s so easy to pretend. Looking into his eyes, he never hurt her. She never hurt him. She’s still his girl, they’re still planning to spend the afternoon laying in bed, reading.

It’s the only time that she doesn’t miss him.

“You know how this goes. Things in Como — we didn’t — I had more that I needed to say.” Bradley leaves every year hating himself for letting her get away, and it’s the only thing that brings her solace. She’s just supposed to watch him move on?

“That’s your problem, Nat, you don’t know how to talk to me until we’re naked. This isn’t healthy.” He bites back, unfazed as a crowd of Belgian tourists turn to stare wide eyed at the two of them.

“Don’t tell me what’s healthy, Bradley, you’re fucking one of your students!” She snaps, her voice practically a low snarl. Still, she has the decency to have lowered her voice. He forgets — she’s classy now.

“I’m not fucking her.” Bradley, truthfully, doesn’t have a leg to stand on. You tried to sleep with him and he told you no, but only because you weren’t ready. If you were, he can’t pretend that he wouldn’t have.

“Please. I saw the way you ran after her.”

“My sex life is none of your business. Does Luca know you’re here because I am? — Did he forgive you yet?” September through to May, Bradley thinks a lot about the time he spent loving Natasha. Guilt wracks his entire being. He finds himself furious for the time he cost her. And yet, standing in front of her, this conversation always winds up being the same.

Her eyes widen. He promised not to bring last summer up. Last august, when Bradley visited after his students went home, and Luca caught the two of them in bed together. He had almost left her.

“Does that poor little girl even kno—“

“Don’t call her that.” Bradley sighs, rolling his head back towards the old roofs and clear skies. The idea makes him so uncomfortable. It’s easy to forget, when he’s not looking at you in the backdrop of your college town, that you’re much younger.

“Does she know what a vindictive prick you can be, Bradley?”

Yes. She spent half of the trip so far arguing with me. Bradley doesn’t give her the real answer. He hasn’t in a long time. There’s a pause between the two of them. Venice doesn’t slow down for anyone. The city bustles around them while Bradley turns his gaze back down towards her.

“I’m sorry. You know that I’m sorry.” He says quietly. She stares at him. He can see it in her face that she’s fighting not to stand and scream. Instinct drives him forwards. It’s muscle memory as he reaches out and takes her face in his hands. “But we can’t keep doing this.”

Her jaw flexes against his palms, anger burning through her the way that smoke fills rooms. Effortless, all-encompassing. Hard to stop.

“You should tell her now,” Natasha practically spits the words towards him. She doesn’t pull away from his touch. She only ever has once. She, one day, will again. She’s sure of that much. “That it’s always on your fucking terms. Give her a chance to get out while she fucking can.”

With that, she pulls away from him and yet again, he watches her go.

Bradley keeps his distance. He watches Doctor Mancini, a man who knows exactly who Bradley is and somehow, loves him even after, teach the class all morning. He doesn’t dare look at you, in those short, rolled up blue Levi’s shorts. Not until that afternoon, once you’re tucked away into a quiet study room in the Marciana Library.

You sit opposite him with one knee bent and your foot resting on the edge of your own chair, watching him quizzically. “Are you going to be this quiet all afternoon?”

He shoots a look across at you, his chin resting on his palm. Then, he looks back down to his work silently.

“Fine, I guess I’ll fail.” You huff playfully, sitting back in your chest and crossing your arms over your chest. This time when he looks, his eyes flicker down to your chest in that cute green tank top. He knows you’re taunting him. “It’s a real shame… to have come this far, and to just be abandoned…”

“Cut it out.” Bradley scoffs, taking his glasses off and dropping them into the centre of his page. He turns in his seat and looks across at you, suddenly cold.

“Alright, say what you want to say. The anticipation is killing me.” Your mouth twitches into a grin as you sit upright in your seat, scooting it across the aged wood to grow closer. He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, the sun shining through the light blue fabric of his linen shirt as he stretches his arms up and rubs harshly at his face.

“There’s something I need to tell you — something I did,” When he drops his arms down again, his eyes are focused on the chip in the years old floorboard, his fingers curling around your knee. You’ve never seen him this remorseful. “I want you to hear it from me.”

Blinking, you nod at him. You’ve never seen him look quite so scared.

“When we met, Natasha and I were both twenty-two. I was fresh out of the Navy, and Natasha was in her last year of university here,” He hasn’t ever been this fidgety before. He stares at the floor of the library, like his sole purpose is to count the grains in the wood. The sole of his sneaker taps out of rhythm.

Opposite him, you wonder exactly how his brain operates. There’s no need, really, for him to explain himself to you. Tomorrow, you’ll leave Venice and you will probably never see Natasha again. Yet, he seems to really want you to understand.

“She was one of the only people in town that spoke English, and she lived right downstairs. For the first two months, she just let me follow her around — I didn’t know what else to do,” There’s no way on Earth that Bradley can explain to you the way that he was feeling when he first got to Sorrento.

He was twenty-two, he had just left the Navy. His grandmother had died three weeks earlier. He was alone in the world, with no idea what to do with the rest of his life. He was angry that he had made it back from the war — furious that he had served for a further two years after that.

“She pulled some favours for me, I spent six months taking different classes around the country, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Came back, and decided that I wanted to do with mine, whatever she was doing with hers.” The more he tells you, the more you can feel his guilt dripping through his words and saturating the air.

The room goes thick with quiet as Bradley sweeps his curls back and tousels his fingers through them. His hands can’t seem to find peace, never stilling as he immediately sits back to dip a hand into his pocket and reach for his cigarettes.

This is the kind of situation that requires you to be quiet, you know that much. It’s not of conversation. He’s clumsy enough with his words, stumbling through them, losing his train of thought, that you don’t dare interrupt. You watch him pluck one from the pack and set the rolled stick between his lips.

Flicking open the top of his silver lighter, he ignites the end and inhales. Briefly, his eyes flicker up to yours. He hates talking about this.

“She wanted to be an archeologist. I was more into the literature side of things, but it worked. We connected. We moved in together three weeks after I got back.” He tells you. You give him a small nod. It ticks over into the afternoon, and behind you a church bell starts to ring loudly.

He clears his throat, “But her father was paying for all her studies, her rent — everything. On the condition that when she was done studying, she would come back home and she would marry whoever he told her to marry. So, then she started her masters, and she was going to get a PHD. It felt like that day wasn’t coming.”

Bradley spares you of the details. How much he loved her, loved their life together. The lemon tree in the courtyard behind their apartment, and the way the sun cast shadows across their bed in the early morning. The way Natasha would smile at him.

“Until she was about to finish her PHD, and her dad says he picked a guy, and a date, and a venue for the wedding. Only — I had proposed first. We were engaged, and… as far as I saw it, we were just waiting until she graduated to tell her father.”

He proposed to her. They were engaged. Somehow, you just can’t picture it. You can’t picture the cynical fate-denier in front of you getting down on one knee and asking the woman that he loved to spend the rest of her life with him. The revelation draws nothing but a deep breath from you.

That’s not how it went, anyway. He didn’t have an expensive diamond, he didn’t get down on one knee and propose in front of your entire family. The two of them didn’t celebrate with champagne in crystal glasses. The way Bradley proposed was nothing like the way Malcolm had.

No, Bradley had proposed without a ring, laying in the grass in the park near their home. She had been laying in his lap and reading to him. He thinks about that day often.

“She didn’t see it the same way?”

Bradley rubs a rough hand across his jaw and closes his eyes for a moment. Even now, with the power of hindsight on his side, he doesn’t understand why she couldn’t just see it the same way he did. He had done it all alone. She wasn’t even willing to try.

“It’s a hard field to break into, especially if you can’t support yourself. There isn’t always a lot of money in it. She made the decision without me, and I was angry. She was going to marry this stranger, live off of her father’s money for just a little longer… then, we could be together.” Bradley scoffs almost bitterly and pinches at the bridge of his nose, like it gives him a headache just to remember.

“So… what did you do?” Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad. You’ve seen the way she looks at him. He lifts his chin, takes the cigarette from between his lips, and looks at you.

His shoulders are heavy, his lips downturned. He looks older when he’s serious like this, more mature. He inhales deeply, and follows it with a burdened exhale. Ash from his cigarette falls to the floor, settling in the space between his sneakers.

“She was at the beach one morning, and someone knocked at the door, so I answered it,” He answered wearing nothing but a pair of still wet shorts, dusted with sand and saturated with salt water from his swim, his towel draped over his shoulder. He had gotten home a few minutes before, he had a class to get to later. “It was her father, looking for her. He freaked out when he saw me, asking who I was. I told him.”

He sets the cigarette back between his lips and inhales deeply. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of smoke filling the room.

“…You told him what?”

“I told him everything,” Bradley’s voice is quiet now, so filled with shame that the weight is dragging his words down. “That we had been living together for four years by then, that she wasn’t ever planning on coming home. It wasn’t my place. I could have lied, but I didn’t want to.”

You close your eyes for a moment, and think of your father. Of what would happen if he ever found out that you let Bradley spend a night in your bed. Then, you swallow softly and bite at the inside of your cheek. “What did he do?”

Bradley swallows thickly. It feels so much worse to say it out loud. “He never spoke to her again.”

There’s no real answer to grace him with. For certain, you know that your father never would have spoken to you again. You know that he would cost you everything, just like he had her. He seems to think that you would like to know more — your silence makes him start to tap his foot again.

“She married the guy, she dropped out of school, she left me, but it was too late. Her father was just angry at us for lying to him. He… died last May.”

Pressing your lips together, you exhale through your nose and blink at him. “He didn’t speak to his own daughter for four years?”

“I cost her the rest of her time with her father, and the career she could have had — because she was going to leave me.” There it is; what he was so ashamed of. The admission of guilt. Purpose in what he had said to her father.

Still, there’s something that makes you scoot forwards, the wooden legs of the chair scraping across the floor as your hand reaches out and your fingers curl softly around his wrist, “You didn’t know that he would react that way.”

Bradley stubs the cigarette out on the back of the lighter and sets it down. He leans in close, his knee setting between yours, his eyes growing warmer as he leans in. “No, but I knew it would hurt her and I did it anyway.”

You let him stay just as close. The cigarette smell lingers between the two of you. The sunlight catches that diamond on your finger and his gaze flickers downwards briefly. When he looks back up, you’re as serious as he has seen you, with none of the anger that usually accompanies it.

“I understand.” Your nails are a pretty blush colour, perfectly polished. They look out of place tucked into his large palm, your thumb stroking across the back of his hand. His eyes search across your face, his brows drawing slightly together.

“Which part?”

“I understand why you wanted to hurt her. I get why she wants to hurt you,” You tell him, the smell of his cologne lingering between the two of you, willing you to ignore the smell of the burnt tobacco. You close his fingers around yours, holding his hand between both of yours. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

It’s all true, every word of it. But it’s deceptive nonetheless. If Bradley had ever tried to ruin you the way he did to her, you’re certain you wouldn’t treat him with the same kind of kindness that Natasha does.

Bradley hums softly. The late June heat settles between the two of you, prickling at the back of your neck. Reaching down, his fingers curl around the leg of your chair, dragging it closer again. His knee sits between yours.

Your mouth twitches, hinting at a smile as he leans in close and swipes his thumb across the bone of your jaw.

“You feel like getting dinner with me tonight, honey?”

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Tangerine headcanons/ imagines

tangerine x female reader

tw: none! just cute stuff that makes us sad

okay so I love analysing people and ive been in love with him since march/april, so this was a piece of cake- also im obsessive and lonely so was super easy lmfao

these are just things that I think (kinda self indulgent) but if you disagree that’s fine too

princess treatment- he’d treat you like royalty

huge softie at heart

love language wise:

 physical touch- I feel like he’s quite handsy, he always has to be touching some part of you

 acts of service- he’d always be willing to help you, does things for you. makes you snacks and drinks throughout the day- like if you’re busy, he’d pop in and give you a tray of stuff you may need

 quality time- he’d value the time you spent together, even if you weren’t doing an activity together (both in the same space, doing your own things) he’d designate certain days for just you

 gift giving- he’d spoil you like crazy, he’d remember certain little things about you and get you a thoughtful gift based off that (like if you mentioned something you wanted to try for just one second midway in a conversation you had months ago, he’d remember it)

words of affirmation- he’d call you tonnes of pet names, I feel like he’d say ‘my’ in front of it to make it more special. he’d tell you he loves you, how special you are and how much he adores you etc

----

hates everyone but you vibes- he’s standoffish to everyone, but when it comes to you he’s the complete opposite; he speaks very soft and kind towards you

he treats you like the most valuable thing on earth

very patient with you

protector x protected energy- he just always wants you safe

nose and forehead kisses

lots of thumb stroking on your cheeks 

lots of intense eye contact- he admires your eyes

feel like he’s a hip and thigh kinda man

I feel like you’d be very close to Lemon, and sometimes it’ll wind him up. Lemon would tell you embarrassing stories about Tan- you’d love it while he’d hate it

I get ride or die vibes- kinda like romeo and juliet, just minus all the death

he secretly loves your chick flicks, he pretends he hates them but watches them with you every time

he also pretends he hates when you call him sweet things but he definitely looks away to smile

he’s very slow to warm up, takes a bit of time to crack him open. on the outside he’s a doberman but on inside he’s like a ragdoll

gets a bit possessive, not in a scary way- but I do think that sometimes it could be

feel like he’s the kind that will literally worship you

you clean his cuts and wounds after missions

he runs warm but you run quite cold, so he’s always trying to warm you up

I feel like you’re the first person he’s actually loved romantically

drinks black coffee and ofc tea

definitely a whisky drinker, he loves a good whisky by the fire

I feel like he’s very clean, likes to keep everything organised. maybe a bit of a perfectionist

always smells good

very romantic and extremely charismatic- a natural charmer. funny and lots of inside jokes

he’s a great caretaker- looks after you really well. if you’re ill he’d be with you at all times, not caring if he got sick too. and when it’s your time of the month he’d get you hot water bottles and you’d get lots of back rubs etc

he loves it when you use your fingers to trace over his tattoos, same goes for his chest hair too

also loves when your stroke through his hair

he gets really irritated in hot temperatures- and starts swearing a lot more

I feel like he’s kind of set in his ways about things/ he knows what he likes, and that you help open his mind about trying and doing new things. you help keep things fresh and exciting

some reason I feel like you’d have daddy issues idk why, (sorry if you do, also sorry if you don’t lmao)

he might follow you like a lost puppy, he’d literally do anything you say

you’d be best friends as well as a couple

he’s very reliable and would drop anything for you

if you needed to rant or vent, he’d be there lending you his ear. he’d be an incredible listener

very attentive

feel like he’s a fast driver, but never when you’re in the car

if someone flirts with you or someone was mean to you at work he’d say “where are they? I will fuckin kill em”

private but not secret relationship

definitely a homebody

whenever he goes past the florists or to the shop, he’d always bring some flowers back for you (more often than not- it’ll your favourite type of flower)

leaves you sweet notes around the house

that’s it for now, hope you liked

[mustainegf]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: sometimes what bridges the gap between friends and lovers, is the ocean.

based on the song forwards beckon rebound, by Adrianne Lenker

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ¹⁹⁸⁵

❝ Over the Dead Sea ❞

It was night. The sapphire sky was a promise, and felt nearly close enough to touch. The full moon was bright, lighting his handsome face. Before us lay the Pacific, endless, like the world's biggest secret. I fell back onto the sand, its grains skittering under my palms, and watched James skip a rock across the water, his ripples creasing its tab skinned surface.

“You can't just sit there like that,” he slurred, whiskey evident on his breath, as he trudged over toward me, a big grin on his face. And I couldn't not smile back. There was just something sweet about James when he was this way. Reckless and alive.

"Oh yeah?" I teased, squinting up at him. "What are you gonna do about it?”

Without warning, he took my hand and tugged me to my feet, both of us stumbling in the process. We laughed. They sound carried out over the waters. We giggled in starlight and sea spray, and I swear nobody knew the world like we did.

"Let's swim," James said suddenly, his blue eyes almost glowing in the night.

"Are you serious? It's freezing out there!" I protested, though I was already unzipping my leather jacket—his leather jacket—and kicking off my boots.

"Come on, don't be a wimp!" he baited, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the sand. I couldn't help but stare for a second at how his body was so sweetly tanned, lean, not something the regular person would consider special. But I did. He caught me looking and raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What? Afraid of a little water?"

"Fat chance," I snorted, promptly shedding my soft clothes down to my bra and panties and racing toward the water with him. The cold hit me as I plunged into the water, but all it did was make me feel even more alive. James wasn't behind me for long, and soon we were thrashing about in the water like some kind of children, laughing so hard it actually hurt a bit.

The waves pushed us together, then pulled us apart, and we kept finding our way to each other, clinging to one another for warmth. At one point, he grabbed me around the waist, lifting me up and spinning me around until I was dizzy.

"You're crazy!" I shouted, my breath coming out in white puffs as I tried to catch it.

"You love it!" he hollered back, his grin still not once leaving his face.

And maybe I did. Maybe I did love the way we were friends, and acted like a lot more than friends. It was a dangerous kind of love. But then and there, the stars watching over, I didn't care.

We finally emerged from the water, crawling and soaked, but still giggling like kids. We collapsed on the sand, lying side by side.

"Keep you company over the dead sea…" James murmured.I turned my head to him, still chuckling slightly. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the stars. "I don't know. Just something I heard once. Sounds cool though, doesn't it?”

"Yeah," I agreed softly, though I wasn't sure I understood it either. But it did sound cool, and there was something about the way he said it that made it feel like a secret meant just for me.

His hand connected with mine in the sand, and I squeezed it softly, his skin coarse against my own. Normally, friends don’t do this. Friends don’t hold hands, half naked on the beach. But James and I aren’t regular friends.

❝ Villain & Violent

Infant & innocent ❞

A few days later from that night at the beach, James and I were at his place. The bedroom air is thick with the smoke of his cigarette and pieces of whatever song he'd been working on earlier. The candles placed around him, their flames licking like ghosts in the dark. We sat on the floor, and an old piece of vinyl spun lazily on the turntable in the corner.

We hadn't spoken of the beach, how we'd gripped to each other in the cold water.

He sat opposite me, his back against the wall, staring into the flickering light of the candle in front of him. I said nothing as I watched him, just watching, understanding.

There was something in the way he looked. The world knew James Hetfield as this fierce, scary singer of Metallica. But here, in these hush seconds, he was different. It would seem that the flames of the candle melted away the layers of armor he usually wore.

I had seen him like this before, many times actually, but. The world saw that villain side to him, that persona that he wore, never really letting anyone in too close. But here, without an audience, without the stage lights, he was just Jamie from school; the boy who loved with all his heart.

Gentle. Sweet even.

The way he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap told of a tender man. James learned to put up walls, hiding that he was one of the shyest people you’d ever met. He was innocent, human, just a boy at heart.

Suddenly, James looked at me, his mouth staying shut.

He smiled.

And so did I.

❝ Stabbing stars through my back ❞

Days soon burned into weeks, and this tiny gap between us began to grow. We hung out, we drank, and still laughed together, but it was all a little different now. I didn't know what to do with it.

We had gone to some party or another, but smoke and noise couldn’t snap me into reality, just watching him from across the room. He was talking to some girl, his arm was casually slung around her shoulders, but his eyes weren't on her. They were on me.

We locked gazes, and we were alone again, both on that beach with ocean at our feet.

But then he would turn away, turn back to this girl with this huge, fake smile on his face, and something inside of me gives up. I turned and left the party without saying any goodbyes, clicking the door shut behind me.

I walked a long while, the city blurring in and around me, until I found myself standing in the only logical place.

The beach.

I just stood there a lot longer than I should have. I didn't know what I was doing there, didn't know what I was waiting for. But then I heard footsteps behind me, and I knew.

❝ Pulling your face close ❞

James was standing several feet away, his hands jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket, the same one he’d wrapped me with just weeks ago. We didn't say anything. We just stood like that.

"I thought I'd find you here.”

I nodded, not because it was all I had to offer, but I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching mine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and I could hear just how serious he was. "I've been an asshole. I didn't know how to deal with… with this."

"With what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He repeated, his hand motioning between us. "Whatever this is.. It scares the shit out of me."

I swallowed hard, throat tight. "Yeah... I know."

He ran a hand through his long hair, biting out a frustrated sigh. "You're my best friend, and I..I didn't want to lose you. That’s all…”

"You didn't lose me, James," I assured him, taking one step closer and tucking his long hair away from his face.

He stared at me. "I don't want to go back," he whispered. "Don’t just be my friend from highschool."

"I know…" I whispered, reaching my hand out to take his. "James…."

He looked down at our clasped hands, then back up at me, the corner of his mouth softening. "Did you know I love you?”

We stood there for a second, and his words melted my heart like warm golden honey. Without consciously thinking about it, I leaned in and kissed him. Though hesitant at first, our lips were quick to become acquainted. He was warm, tasted like strawberry, and his hands cupped my cheek like he was lost.

When we finally broke, our foreheads leaned against each others. “I love you too…” I mumbled, gently caressing his cheek with the pad of my thumb.

"I'm not afraid of you now," I whispered.

"I'm not afraid of you either," he murmured back.

He pulled far enough to see my face. "Come on," he said suddenly, a smile tugging his mouth up.

"What?" I asked.

"Swim with me," he said, that smile overtaking him, the smile I’d fallen for.

I laughed at that. "You're crazy."

"Dead serious," he said, already yanking off his jacket and booting his feet clear of his boots.

Who am I to deny him?

This time, we stripped all the way down, without any threat of fear. It was not the physicality, not about sex. It was trust, peeling away those layers we'd wrapped ourselves in, about being vulnerable and real with each other in a way

we'd never been before.

I admired his body, bare for me to see for the first time, and mine for him.

We ran into the water together, the cold biting our skin. We were laughing again, the sound of it shooting out over the ocean. We swam out until we couldn't feel the sand beneath our feet, until the world was just water and confession, alone together.

We floated there, side by side, the waves rocking us gently, like we were babies in our mothers arms.

“James?” I whispered, leaning my naked back against his wet chest and gazing up.

“Yes?”

“Can I sleep in bed with you tonight?”

“Always.”

It all started here, and both arms cradle me now.

[interstellarlyinlove]

Established Relationship (May 20th)

word count: 683

@wolfstarmicrofic

“What do you mean? What’s there not to like about summer?” Sirius asks, looking at Remus from above the book he’s reading. The book the both of them are reading, actually, except Remus is a quicker reader so now he has to wait until Sirius finishes to be able to talk to him about it. 

“The stickiness of it all,” Remus says, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder and closing his eyes. They’re sitting under their favorite tree near the Black Lake and today is their last day in Hogwarts until next September. Sirius is spending the summer with Remus and his family. 

“When else am I going to spend my days eating ripe fruit and wearing too-short shorts? Summer is great.”

Remus smiles. “Sure. If you say so. You're burnt for three months straight, though.”

“I would’ve been too powerful if I had the ability to tan and not burn.”

Remus laughs. “Yeah, that does make me feel better about you being unfairly gorgeous. At least you can’t tan.”

“The universe gave me a boyfriend that tans beautifully though, so I’m not complaining.” Sirius looks at Remus. “You’re unfairly gorgeous.”

Remus’ favorite thing in all the universe is Sirius complimenting him. Still, he makes a face. “Gross.”

Sirius closes his book. Remus raises an eyebrow. “You are never going to finish that book, Godric. I swear you have until tomorrow before I spoil it for–”

“What do you want to do?” Sirius asks, kissing Remus’ cheek. 

Remus blinks. “Like, right now? I want to read to you, maybe make out a little bit, you know how it is.”

Sirius laughs Remus’ favorite laugh. “Sure. I mean, I’d love to. I just meant, like, later. Like, next summer.”

“Next summer?”

“There’s no more Hogwarts after next summer.”

“Ah,” Remus says. Next year is their last at Hogwarts. “That’s a little terrifying, isn’t it?”

“A little.”

“I think I’d like to teach,” Remus says, then he flushes. “I mean, if I could. A werewolf teacher sounds pretty horrible, doesn’t it?”

Sirius flicks Remus’ temple. “I hate it when you say things like that. You’d be an amazing teacher. Academia looks too good on you, moonstone.”

Remus might die. Having Sirius believe in him even more than he believes in himself is something that is so dear to his heart. He wants to tell Sirius this but he flicks Sirius’ temple instead. “You’re sweet. You’d be an amazing healer.”

Sirius looks at him funny. “How do you know what I want to do, and I don’t know that about you?”

“I’m a better boyfriend,” Remus says, grinning. “Also, everyone knows everything about you because you are a professional blabbermouth.”

“I am not.” 

“It’s cute.”

“I do not talk a lot,” Sirius says. “I will take a vow of silence right now.”

Remus laughs. “Don’t! Your blabbering is my favorite thing about you.”

“How romantic,” Sirius says. His voice is monotone but Remus knows he’s trying not to laugh.

“I’m excited about living with you. After school”

“You want to live with me?” Sirius asks, and he sounds sincere. 

“No, I don’t, actually,” Remus says, and he flicks Sirius’ temple again because how can he not? “Don’t be stupid. Who else would I live with?”

Sirius’ smile is the sun. “I love that you love me. It’s my favorite thing.”

Remus’ heartstrings tug. “Why do you say things like that? Godric.” He pauses. “You loving me is my favorite thing, too. Whatever.”

“We need to learn how to break into vaults.”

“Sure.”

“I need to steal some of my family’s money. Really. I wasn’t thinking about buying a flat before getting disowned. I should’ve toned it down a little bit. Did you know I officially got disowned on a stupid Tuesday night while making new paper from old scraps of paper? It’s a whole thing where you shred it and then dunk it in water and wet tiny scraps of paper have such a weird texture. Anyway, It came out of nowhere, really. The disowning, not the paper making.”

Remus laughs. “You are such a blabbermouth.”

[jamdoughnutmagician]

You'll Know Me Better (Than I Know Myself) Steve Harrington x Reader (18+)

I need more fics where reader can’t take Steve’s cock that well, so he has to be patient. Awkwardness, but lighthearted, very intimate and tender 😢

Based on this text post from @wroteclassicaly because I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here's the fic. Idk if it's quite what you wanted but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Also bonus points if anyone know's the song which this fic's title references

Word Count:2,088

Warnings: Smut, Self-Doubt, Comfort, Oral Sex (F Rec), Mentions of Painful sexual experiences, alternatives to penetrative sex.

Steve Harrington Masterlist // Masterlist

Steve's soft pink lips pressed against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. He kissed you with an unhurried ease, his strong arms circling your body, keeping you safe as he pulled you closer into his lap. You weren’t naive, you knew the insistent press of Steve’s growing erection bulging underneath the soft fabric of his sweatpants meant he was more than pleased to have you sitting on top of him like this. It was that fact that had your stomach tying itself in knots. 

You hadn't been with many guys before Steve, but the one you had been with had rushed you, everytime being all too quick to have their way with you. Far too concerned with their own pleasure before yours.

But Steve wasn’t like that. You knew that. Steve had been nothing but kind, sweet, gentle and so unbelievably patient with you.

He watches as you shy away into his chest, hiding away from his kisses to nuzzle your cheek against the soft thatch of hair.

“Hey, I don’t have bad breath or something, do I?” he jokes light-heartedly when he sees you shrink into yourself. “Because I swear I brushed my teeth.” he assures you, pulling you closer.  

“No, Steve, you’re fine, I like kissing you, really I do.”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming”

The words get caught in your throat. What was the right thing to say here? That you’re worried that kissing him leads to things getting heated, to getting more intense and you’re not sure if you can handle it? That you’re worried that there’s something wrong with you? That you don’t want to be a disappointment?

“Hey, hey..” he murmurs softly, hooking his finger and thumb under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can see your brain working overtime, what’s going on up there, hm” his hand moving across your face to brush the stray strands of hair from your eyes.

“It’s just…” you huff quietly, trying to find the words. “I’ve been here before Steve, and when I’ve slept with someone, I’ve just never enjoyed it, it’s never felt… right.” you say, talking through the mess of thoughts in your head.  “..And the last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”

“Oh honey, you could never disappoint me, not like that, not like anything.” he tells you honestly and earnestly, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with or ready for. I could kiss you for the rest of my life and I would die a happy man.” a boyish smile tugs at his pink lips.

“But I do want to, Steve. I do want to be with you like that.” you breathe. “I just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Well let me just focus on you for a little bit and we’ll see where that takes us? And if something doesn’t feel good or you want me to stop, then just tell me. You call the shots, baby.”

The nervous, yet excited heat that blooms in your stomach bubbles into anticipation as your fingertips count the freckles on Steve’s tan skin.

“Yeah, does that sound okay, Honey?”

You give him an assured nod, and the smile he gives you in return makes you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

“Okay, let’s get you comfortable.” he says, moving you until you're settled back against the soft pillows.

Holding himself above you he begins to kiss his way down your body. His tender kisses butterflying on every curve and every inch of your soft skin, hooking his fingers into the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear.

“I’m kind of regretting not putting on something a little bit more racy if I’d have known that this was the way the evening was going to go.” you laugh softly.

“It’s not like it was going to matter.” Steve grins cheekily. “Cotton or lace, doesn’t bother me, it was only going to get in the way anyway.” he says as he drags the offending material down your legs and flings them behind him to some dark corner of the room.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Honey?” he asks, as he trails his kisses over the soft skin of your inner thigh, 

His honeyed hazel brown eyes glint with a sparkle as you offer him a shy nod of your head.

“Yeah?” He places another kiss inside your thigh. “Just lay back darling, let me do all the hard work.”

He warms you up with flat broad sweeps of his tongue over your pussy, letting you just revel in the warm wet drag of his tongue over your most sensitive parts. His nose nudges against your clit as his tongue begins to delve between your folds, drinking in every glistening drop of your arousal. His tongue sweeps upwards, circling around your clit before pulling it between his plump lips to gently suckle on it. 

He pulls away from you for a brief moment, to check in with you.

“Doing so well for me, Honey. Want me to keep going? Think you can take one of my fingers?”

You give him a breathy whine of ‘please’ and it's all the affirmation that Steve needs before he's diving back in, eager to taste that little piece of heaven at the apex of your thighs. 

His tongue tracing patterns over your soft cunt, before sweeping upwards to flick over your clit. He smirks against you when he feels the gentle pulse of your clit under his tongue. He gently inches one of his thick fingers into you, slowly letting you grow accustomed to the feeling. 

He flicks his eyes up your body to see the way your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths of pleasure. 

He crooks his finger inside you,the pads of his finger rubbing against that sweet spot, and when your shallow breaths turn into eager whines he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Right on the edge of pleasure, ready to fall off and give everything to him.

The sounds of your pleasure was like music to Steve’s ears, his hips driving themselves into the rumpled mess of the sheets on the bed, searching for any little bit of friction to relieve the straining pressure on his cock.

“You gonna come for me honey? Can feel you clenching around my finger.” 

You nod your head, and with a few more passes of his tongue flicking over your clit, and his finger working inside you, you were coming for him, clinging to his strong arm as you ride out your high, shuddering through your orgasm.

When you come back down to earth, you can’t help but look at the sweet, dopey smile on your boyfriend’s face. The glistening evidence of your pleasure gleaming on his plump pink lips.

“So, how was that?” he smirks as though he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“Yeah..yeah..it was good..it was really fucking good.” You nod your head quickly. You reach for him to pull him up to meet you, “but I want more.”

“More? I like the sound of that.” he grins, pushing his mussed up hair back with a hand. “Let me just get these off first.” he says, getting up to take off his sweatpants.

He makes a show of it, digging his thumbs into the elastic waistband but keeping his eyes locked with yours as he does it. Teasing you as he shimmies his hips as slowly works them down his thighs and kicks them off around his ankles, like he’s your very own personal exotic dancer. 

“Nice moves, Harrington.” you snort, unable to keep your laughter in.

“If you like that, then I’ve got plenty more moves I can show you, Honey.” he says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his body, from the cosy thatch of hair on his chest that you had spent countless nights snuggled into, to the constellation of freckles that litter his skin like artwork, following down to the slight soft pudge of his stomach where the hair continues to trail down.

Steve Harrington was fucking huge.

Hard and curved against his stomach, his flushed pink tip peeks out from his closed fist as he works steady strokes up and down the length of his cock.  

There's no way he's going to be able to fit all of that inside me.

“We can take our time, we've got all night, sweetheart.” he kisses away your worries with a sweet kiss.

You ease at his sweet words. Here in his arms you feel safer than you ever have before.

“I'm going to go inside now, you tell me if anything, anything at all, feels weird or you want to stop. I just want you to feel good, baby.”

He guides his tip to your entrance, pressing in inch by inch, stilling his hips to let you become acquainted with the feeling.

You try to ignore the painful burning stretch, to breathe through it, but it hurts. You feel so angry, sad, disappointed, frustrated. You so badly wanted this to work, not only for yourself, but for Steve too. Why did it always have to be such a damn struggle. 

And when Steve sees the look of wincing hesitation that crosses your face, he draws his hips back immediately.

The frustration bubbles over into tears gathering in your eyes.

“Hey, come on now, it's okay.” Steve shushes, brushing your tears away with his thumb. 

“No, it's not, Steve!” You cry. “Any other girl could take you without so much as a second thought, but not me. With me it's always a fucking uphill battle.” finishing with a tired huff.

He holds you close, the warmth of his touch putting you at ease, like holding you close is all he wants to do.

“I don't want any other girl, I want you, and if that means changing things up, then so be it! Besides I think I've got an idea, if you'd be willing to try it, Honey?”

You look at him with wide curious eyes, waiting for him to continue. 

He lines his cock against your wet slit, not pushing inside, but sliding between your lips, his tip bumping against your clit ever so slightly. 

“Just gotta look at things from a different angle, sweets” he smiles down at you from underneath his hair.

“But what about you, don't you want it to be good for you too Stevie?”

“Trust me..this feels..fuck..pretty fucking good to me sweetheart.” he says as he stutters out a breath.

He sheaths himself between your folds, the gentle drag of his cock aided your gathering slickness. Every veiny inch of him rubs along your most sensitive parts, and yet with the way his hips rock into yours you can't deny the flaring heat it spikes in your stomach.

His tip is nudging against your clit on every updrag of his cock, leaving a smearing mess of pre-cum in It's wake. Your own thighs are sticky with your combined evidence of arousal.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, when you start to feel that all-too familiar tingle. The impending high of your orgasm approaching, just within a finger-tips grasp of pleasure. 

“It’s okay honey, I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.” he mutters sweetly in your ears. “I just want you to feel good.”

He ruts his himself between the warmth of your cunt, revelling in the way your walls perfectly hug his sensitive cock, his eyes clenching shut with as his hips slowly rock back and forth.

With a few more smooth thrusts, and his tip repeatedly nudging against your clit you were coming for him with an almost silent cry, clinging to him as you shuddered through the shocks of your high.

Steve soon follows behind you as he falls over the edge with you, spilling his release on your stomach, painting your skin in ropes of pearlescent white, his lips are upon yours as your shared moans are swallowed into tender kisses.

You stay like that for a while just holding each other close, neither one of you quite ready to leave the other’s embrace yet.

“It’s just another point of view, that’s all, Honey.” he smiles sweetly.

Maybe you could come around to looking at things from another point of view.

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