#i finally saw some more gifs from his latest film and OH BOY THAT'S A BIG BEEFY BRO MOOD.

[royaltysuite]

Hey I was wondering if you could make a Weesa( I hope I spelled his name right) smut like reader just hanging out with the him and boys and then maybe jealousy coming in you can really do what you want with them idea or maybe for reader reaction a little argument it’s okay if you don’t wanna write this it’s kinda a lot anyways 😔😔sorry

Here ya go, babes!!!

Jealousy, Jealousy...

Would you like to buy me a coffee ?

Summary: While hanging out with friends, Weesa doesn't seem to like how your attention isn't on him so he makes sure you know exactly how he feels...

Warnings: Not full on smut, public touching, frottage, Weesa cums in his pants, sub!Weesa, dom! idol!Reader, not proofread

Author's Note: Here's the latest out of the inbox. I'm currently running on no sleep, but I'm still working on clearing out my inbox. Hopefully, you guys enjoy and Stay Classy~~

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"Hey, babe. Do you wanna go out and hang with the guys?" Weesa, in the shower connected to my bedroom, shouted. "I thought you guys had a film shoot to go to?" I responded.

"There was a change in schedule, so our manager decided to let us have the day off." "Okay then, I'll text the guys to meet us at our usual spot."

This wasn't usual for us. Sometimes, it would be rare for Weesa and I to have time off from our idol activities at the same time. Whenever we do have time off at the same time, we usually spend it indoors but it had been a long time since I saw the others.

As I texted the guys to meet up to make the plans, Weesa walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He then walked over to where I sat on the bed and leaned over me.

"Uegh, your hair is still wet." I cringed playfully, pointing my finger in his forehead. "I just wanna show you some love, babe." His answer was followed by him getting more close to me, with him almost laying on top of me. "Well, you can show me love once your hair is dried. I don't want you catching a cold." "What? Colds can't touch me, if anything they're afraid of me." He answered. "Hon, you had a cold like two weeks ago and your were very very whiny. If I can recall, you kept saying that 'it was gonna take you out' and 'you wanted me to remember you as the sexy man you once were'."

"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" I said cheekily, seeing the light blush form on his cheeks. "I truly thought I was gonna die." He huffed, moving off the bed. "Yeah, yeah, drama king. now, let's get your hair dry before you get sick...again." Giggling, we both moved back towards the bathroom.

After a short while, we began to make our way towards the park to meet with the others.

Once we arrived to the park, we were met with a hilarious sight. Tsurugi was hanging Ryoga upside down while Ren and Jimmy were wrestling around. As we walked closer, Ryushin and Kokoro greeted us first. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?" Ryushin spoke, looking up from his phone when he noticed us getting closer.

"Nothing much, just the usual. Though drama king here was taking a long time getting dressed." "Only because someone was very distracting..." Weesa mumbled under his breath.

"What was that, babe?" "N-nothing.." "Okay, well since we're here, I brought some food for us to share." I shared, shaking the basket in my hand which grabbed the attention of the others.

I then grabbed Weesa by the hand and we plopped ourselves down on the blanket that was laid out on the grass. Before I could set the basket down, I could feel Weesa's hands slide against my hips, feeling the grabby motion he was making.

I turned my head slightly in his direction and saw his small pout. I smiled lightly, finally setting down the basket and sitting myself on his lap. Once my body made contact with him, his arms immediately wrapped tight around me. I leaned back and went to whisper in his ear.

"What's wrong, babe?" I questioned quietly, curious on why he was suddenly getting more and more needy. "I don't like the way they look at you...." He mumbled against my back. "Who, baby?" "The guys...the way they look at you...don't like it."

"Baby, they were looking at the basket." I chuckled, now understanding why he was getting needy. "Now, are you hungry? I can grab some food for you..." Once I asked him, he answered with a small shake of his head. But, I also felt his hips buck into me slightly.

So, that's why he's needy....

Instead of being out with friends, he wanted my full devoted attention. "Weesa, baby, did you not get enough attention this morning?" I chided playfully in his ear. His movements stalled a bit, as he knew he was caught.

"N-no, you did." He stuttered. "Really, because it seems to me that I didn't do a good enough job." And to make my point, I grinded back against him which caused him to let out a quiet muffled moan.

This gave me an idea. I turned back to face the group to see that they were still devouring the food. Knowing full well that they were preoccupied by eating, I continued to grind down against Weesa. I could feel his clothed cock throb against me. Each time my hips made contact with his erection, he let out the most sluttiest whine I've ever heard from him.

"So naughty, trying to get off while we're with our friends. What would they think if they looked over here? To see you trying to get off just by me grinding on you?" "Hmm, does that turn you on? You want them to see you cum just by a little dry-humping?"

The thought of our friends just taking a quick look in our direction seemed to turn him on even more. His movements became a little bit harsher, his hands tightening on my waist. I could tell he was getting closer to cumming.

"Come on, baby, cum for me." I purred and that seemed to throw him over the edge. His movements stopped and stuttered and I could tell that he just finished. Weesa then placed his red hot face into the crook of my neck, trying to calm himself before interacting with the others.

My hand went to caress his head and I turned to see that everyone except for Ryushin had ran off to the lake. "You two are some kinky freaks, you know that right?" He commented, not making eye contact with me.

"I'm just taking care of my babe." I replied with a smirk laced in my tone.

Weesa's never gonna live this down.

[lemoncrushh]

Meeting Harry Styles

Summary: After actress Mia Tangelo meets Harry Styles at a One Direction concert, he surprises her by showing up at her film premiere.

Warnings: None. I still ask that you be at least 18 to read my fics though.

Word Count: 3820

A/N: A cute one shot from 2016. Harry x OC. I believe this was a request where the woman was famous too. Obviously, this is 1D Harry.

My sister had taken me to a One Direction concert. Neither of us were particularly huge fans, but I'll admit I'd been known to sing along to a few of their songs on the radio. When she originally told me about the tickets I raised a brow, but ended up agreeing to join her, thinking it would be a fun night out with my sis. I'd recently wrapped up filming for my latest movie, and between that and press and promo for my previous film that was opening in a few weeks, we rarely got to spend time with each other anymore.

Halfway through the show, and a few beers later, Nora let the cat out of the bag. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the sheer excitement from the crowd, but with her arm looped through mine she informed me she'd always had a crush on Niall. I giggled at her as I leaned my head on her shoulder, watching the four boys on stage. My eyes, however, were not focused on the Irish one, but rather the tall, long-haired one in jeans so tight you could practically see-

"Mia!" Nora shouted in my ear, interrupting my dirty thoughts. "Did you see that? Oh my God, he's so cute! That smile!"

"Yeah," I grinned. I knew she was referring to Niall, but I wasn't.

I continued to stare at him in awe as he pranced around the stage, getting the crowd more riled up with each "make some noise!" and flip of his hair. A couple of times he came our way, and I could swear we made eye contact as he gave his dimpled grin and a thumbs up.

Harry Styles. I knew the name. I knew who he was. I guess for some reason I'd never really paid attention. One Direction was just a pop band with a handful of catchy tunes. But standing there in the audience, watching him in his element, I realized what Harry Styles really was - a rockstar.

When the concert was over and I was nearly deaf from all the screaming (okay, I might've contributed to it some), Nora and I grabbed our things to hurry toward the exit. In the early days, my sister and I would stay at the venue long after the show was through, and the seats had cleared out. But now that I had an acting career, I got recognized a lot. Not that I minded it, but sometimes fans would crowd around for hours, and I'd finally have to tell them I needed to leave. I still wasn't very good at turning people down and it made me feel bad, so it was just easier to leave the premises early.

As we made our way down the aisle, I caught the glimpse of camera phones snapping photos. Of course, I knew phones had been out during the entire concert, but I also knew people were getting pics of me. I even heard my name shouted a few times. Deciding to hold up a hand to wave, I felt Nora poke me in the back.

"What?" I turned to ask her.

"That guy's calling for you," she pointed ahead of me.

Twirling back around, I saw whom she was talking about, nearly bumping into him. He wore a white t-shirt that simply said STAFF on the front.

"Mia Tangelo?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Harry Styles wants to meet you," he stated with a small smile.

My eyes about popped out of their sockets as I stared at the guy. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

My jaw dropped slightly as I eyed Nora who was practically up against my back, her arm still holding on to mine.

"Oh my God!" she squealed.

"You wanna come with me?" I heard the man ask.

"Oh, sure," I muttered. "Yeah."

Nora and I followed him through a maze that led us to a backstage area. I wasn't even sure how we got there without running into other bodies, but before we knew it, we were standing in front of a doorway.

"Just have a seat in there," the guy instructed, gesturing toward a sofa inside the room.

"Thank you," I said pleasantly.

I could feel Nora's nerves radiating off of her as she sat next to me. I chuckled low, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Honey, calm down," I whispered. "I've introduced you to my co-stars before."

"I know, and I was nervous as hell every time," she spewed.

I smiled. "They're just people, like you and me."

Nora raised a brow. "Like you, maybe, but not like me. Not even close."

"I hate when you talk like that," I scoffed.

"Hey, I wasn't just in a movie with Le-"

"Hello," I heard a British accent say. I lifted my gaze to the doorway where a very tall and handsome Harry Styles stood.

"Hi!" I greeted, rising from my seat. "Mia Tangelo, nice to you meet you." I extended my hand and Harry took it. A smile spread across his face, revealing his dimples again.

"Lovely to meet you, too, Mia. I'm a massive fan," he remarked, shaking my hand before leaning forward and kissing the air on either side of my face.

"Of mine? Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his gaze not wavering from mine. It was then that I noticed he still had a hold of my hand, and I had yet to acknowledge my sister who had stood up from the couch.

"Um," I cleared my throat. "Harry, this is my sister, Nora."

Nora, who had just been a ball of nerves less than a minute ago, suddenly found her courage and shook Harry's hand, giving him the lowdown on herself and how much she enjoyed the concert and wished she had seen them years ago. Harry was a gentleman, taking in every word. I took the opportunity to take in his beauty, my eyes traveling down his slim physique to his boots. He was even better looking up close, his thin t-shirt revealing a few tattoos underneath. I liked the way he kept combing his long fingers through his hair, and how full his lips were.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the show," I heard Harry say.

I blinked just as I caught a glimpse of someone else walking in the room. I nudged Nora with my elbow. She let out a slight yelp when she saw him.

"Hello," I held out my hand when Niall walked up to me. "I'm Mia."

"Yeah, I thought I saw you in the audience," he nodded, shaking my hand. "Thanks for comin'!"

"You bet," I grinned, turning to Nora. "It was her idea."

As soon as I introduced Niall to my sister, she returned to her chatty self. I stood back and watched her in action for a bit until I felt those green eyes on me. Yes, I'd already noticed they were green.

"So, what did you think?" he asked.

"Sorry?" I turned to face him.

"The show," said Harry. "What did you think?"

"Oh," I mouthed, "I loved it."

I quickly found myself biting my lip like I did when I was nervous. I never told Nora, but I still got nervous from time to time. And the way Harry's eyes were burning into mine didn't help. Fortunately, I had learned how not to look away from someone when they spoke to me. It kind of came with the professionalism and red-carpet etiquette. And from the looks of it, Harry had been schooled as well.

"I'm glad," he grinned. "It's actually funny that you're here. I was just watching one of your films on the bus this weekend."

"Really?" I lifted my brows. "Am I allowed to ask which one?"

"Surrender," he replied a little sheepishly, his accent omitting the R at the end.

I felt the color rise to my cheeks though I tried my best to play it off. Surrender had been one of my earlier films, only my second major motion picture and my very first love scene. Although millions of people had seen it by now, and I'd done several movies since, the knowledge that Harry had watched me naked on the screen made me feel something I hadn't been prepared for.

I cleared my throat. "And did you like it?"

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up on one side, that damn dimple making its appearance once again. "Yeah...I did."

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

"Although, I think In the Dark Daylight may be my favorite," he remarked.

"Oh?" I widened my eyes. Although In the Dark Daylight seemed to have a bit of a cult following, it had been met with mixed reviews. Still, it had been my favorite to shoot thus far. "You know, we just finished filming the sequel."

"I heard about that!" Harry nodded, lightly gesturing to me. "And I hear there's a new film coming out soon?"

"Oh, yeah," I swallowed. "Yes. On the fourth."

"What's that one called again?"

"No Man's Land," I replied. "We're um...I'm really excited about it."

"Me too," Harry commented. "Can't wait to see it."

Despite my nerves, Harry's gaze certainly had a pull on me. I hadn't even noticed Liam and Louis had entered the room until Nora's laugh rang in my ears and I looked over to see them chatting with her. After introducing myself, the guy from earlier with the STAFF shirt peaked his head inside, announcing "twenty minutes". I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but I figured it had something to do with them getting on their buses and heading to the next city, so we quickly said our goodbyes.

"Really lovely to meet you, Mia," Harry said softly after the other three boys had left the room, his hand gently touching my arm.

"You too, Harry," I beamed, allowing the heat from his skin to warm mine.

"Thanks so much for coming out to support us. I hope I get to return the favor someday."

I smiled wider. "You bet."

Harry and Nora said farewell and I followed her out into the hall, giving Harry one final glance and a wave, catching his dimpled smile one last time.

I could see the cameras flashing as soon as the car pulled up. Adjusting my dress and taking a deep breath, I waited for the driver to open the door. I was never going to get used to this, no matter how many movies I made.

I stopped along the red carpet to wave and do short interviews, my picture being taken every step of the way. I smiled as much as was necessary, but once I was indoors, I felt my body relax. I met up with several of the cast and crew for No Man's Land, taking more photos and sharing a couple glasses of wine that somehow had arrived in my hand. I chatted with a few other celebrities that I'd met before, as well as some that I hadn't. By the time I was seated for the screening, all nervousness was gone.

The audience applauded enthusiastically when the film was over, and I followed the rest of the cast down the aisle, making our way back to the crowd. Several of my peers congratulated me, telling me it was a stellar performance. I took their compliments graciously, thanking them for coming. I'd just turned from one conversation, prepared for another when I felt a hand on the small of my back.

"You were wonderful, Mia," a low voice sang in my ear.

I jerked around to see Harry, his tall, slim physique hovering over me. He looked amazing in a black suit and shirt, minus a tie so as to give a peek of his tattooed chest in typical Harry Styles fashion.

"Harry!" I whisper-shouted, grabbing his forearm before I could catch myself. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Told you I was gonna return the favor," he said, covering my hand with his before leaning in to kiss my cheek. Unlike the air kisses he'd given before, his lips actually pressed against my skin.

"I-I'm so glad!" I exclaimed shakily. "It's good to see you."

"You too," he grinned. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," I said.

Or at least I thought I said it. Even in the dimly lit room, I was suddenly lost in his eyes, the pull even stronger than I'd remembered. I was also suddenly aware of what I was wearing. From the moment I'd stepped out of the car and the first camera flashed, it was like I was no longer in my body. I was on autopilot, knowing where I needed to stand, what I needed to say. But now standing next to Harry, his eyes on me, I was finally back inside my own skin, aware of all my senses.

My nervous habit of lip biting returned as I reached down to tug on the lace hem of my short dress, catching Harry's gaze as it travelled down my body.

"So, um..." I swallowed hard. "So you liked the movie?"

"Yeah," he eyes shifted back to mine. "I might've actually liked it more than In the Dark Daylight."

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

Harry shrugged, giving a cheeky smirk. "Alright, maybe about the same."

I chuckled, feeling a bit of tension release. "That's still pretty good. I'll take it."

Harry and I chatted for a while about the film, and a couple of my others, though I was a bit grateful he didn't mention Surrender again. Some of my co-stars joined us and I introduced them to Harry, and even some people who knew him but not me came up to us. It turned out to be a really fun evening, and the more I was around Harry, the funnier and more charming he seemed to be, true to his reputation.

After more cocktails, I excused myself to the ladies' room. I hadn't expected Harry to wait for me, so when I returned and was greeted by another fellow actor, I stopped to talk to him. Halfway through the conversation, however, I caught a glimpse of Harry out of the corner of my eye. He gave me a smile which I returned before quickly averting my attention back to the man in front of me. As he droned on about something I knew nothing about, I couldn't help but keep the grin on my face as I saw Harry coming towards me.

"Hello," he said cheerfully. My stomach flipped when I felt his arm slide around my waist.

"Hi," I licked my lips. I hastily introduced him to the other actor.

"Do you mind if I steal her for a moment?" Harry asked.

The other man shook his head, cordially turning around to start a conversation with someone else. I looked up at Harry, a tiny giggle escaping my throat.

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"For saving me," I chuckled.

"Oh, I wasn't really trying to," he grinned. "Just wanted to be with you."

My face softened as I continued to stare at him. "Oh," I breathed.

"It's difficult to know the most beautiful woman in the room is over here, when I'm over there," he gestured with his head to the area he'd been standing before. It was then that I noticed his arm had loosened only slightly from around my waist, his hand now on the small of my back.

"Oh," I said again, sounding like a broken record. I blinked, my lips curling into a smile. Harry mimicked it, sending shivers down my spine. The way his eyes danced, I could swear he was about to kiss me, but I figured he thought it best not to in our current setting.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" he finally asked after staring at each other for a moment or two. "Or...do you have to stay?"

"No," I shook my head. "I mean, no, I don't...have to stay."

Harry's smile grew as he turned slightly and nudged me with his hand, leading me toward to the exit. When we made it outside, several cars were lined up to take various guests home (or wherever else they wished to go) as they climbed in. Some people had stopped to chat which made me feel more at ease, seeing as I'd just walked out of the theater with Harry. I didn't want our exit - or whatever this was - to appear too obvious.

"Do you wanna take yours or mine?" I heard him ask softly. I noticed then that he had his phone in his hand, no doubt ready to cancel his car if need be.

"Um...mine's fine I guess."

Harry nodded, typed something on his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. I didn't even need to call for my car. It was already pulling up to the curb by the time we stepped up to it, as if by magic. The driver opened the door and I slid into the back seat, Harry following me.

We were both silent for a couple minutes and I took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths and second guess what we might be doing. The intoxicating aroma of Harry's cologne weakened my senses, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"So, I suppose now," said Harry, interrupting my thoughts, "before we get to your place, or wherever it is we're going, I should probably confess something."

I blinked once, my eyes wide as I looked over at him. "What's that?"

Harry smiled his dazzling smile before looking down at his hands and back up at me. "I've fancied you for a while now."

I returned his smile. "You have?"

"Yeah. That wasn't the first time I'd watched Surrender."

My entire body was suddenly on fire from within, like someone had lit a match and tossed it inside. I bit my bottom lip, though this time not from nerves. Harry leaned over and brought his hand to my cheek, his eyes focused on my mouth, his thumb urging my teeth to release my lip. When it popped out, he slid his thumb across it before tilting his head and pressing his mouth to mine.

He kissed me softly and gently, his fingers tickling my cheek. Then his hand slid down to my neck as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. He tasted like whiskey and cherries. That mixed with his cologne made my head spin, and I was perfectly fine with it. My left hand had found a resting place against his chest, and my right was somehow holding his in my lap. As I felt the car come to a stop, I pulled away.

"Are we there already?" Harry asked in a raspy voice, his eyes still closed and his mouth mere centimeters from mine.

I giggled lightly. "No. Just a red light."

"Oh," he said, his eyelids fluttering open. I grinned at him for a minute as he stared at me. There was no denying how handsome he was.

When the car began to move again, Harry sat back, his hand still holding on to mine. I looked down at them in my lap and smiled. Then Harry lifted them to his lips, kissing the back of mine.

"I'm glad you came," I muttered.

Harry gazed over at me. "So, confession number two," he said sheepishly, "I wasn't originally invited."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"As they say, I had my people call your people."

I let out a loud cackle. "You did not."

"Yeah I did. I wanted to see you."

"You couldn't have just gotten my number?" I inquired.

"And miss out on surprising you?" Harry quipped.

"Harry Styles!" I teased, shoving his arm.

"Were you surprised?" he asked.

"Very."

"Mission accomplished, then," he smirked.

I watched him in silence until I noticed we were turning into my neighborhood. My stomach flipped at the anticipation, and my palms were sweaty.

"Mia?" I suddenly heard Harry say as I was gazing out the window.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking about this the whole drive...going back and forth in my head...and maybe it's because I'm sobering up but..." his expression softened as he shifted in his seat to face me. "I don't think we should sleep together tonight."

My face fell. "Oh. Okay." I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Please let me explain," he added. "It's not that I don't want to. I very much want to." He said the last sentence with a nervous chuckle.

"It's fine," I remarked, my jaw set to keep from revealing any real emotion. I felt like an idiot.

"Mia..." Harry sounded, scooting closer to me. He lifted my chin to look at him. I blinked fast, worried that a tear or two might sneak through. "I wanna get to know you more. I really like you. I wanna take you out, on a proper date. I don't want this to just be a hook up."

My eyelids fluttered a few more times as I let his words sink in.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Tour's over. I have some time to actually spend with you, get to know you better. Would you like that?"

I felt my cheeks rise as a smile slowly spread across my face. "I'd like that a lot."

"Good," he grinned just as the car pulled up to my house and we were let in the gate.

I quickly gave Harry my number which he programmed in his phone. When the driver opened the door, Harry got out first, holding his hand out for me. As I dug my keys out of my bag, I saw Harry talking to the driver before following me up the sidewalk.

"Wow, I get a gentleman walking me to my door," I commented. "It is like a first date."

"Well, I am a gentleman," remarked Harry.

"Do I get a goodnight kiss too?"

"Are you kidding?"

Harry slid his hands under my ears and kissed me like he had in the car, only with a bit more fervor and spark. I felt light-headed before he even let go, and by the time he did, I could barely stand.

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay?" I whispered.

Harry rested his forehead against mine.

"Next time, love," he breathed, his fingers dragging down my neck. "Promise."

With one last kiss, he turned back to the car. I watched him get in and wave goodbye before I unlocked my front door.

I had just climbed the stairs and was walking into my bedroom when my phone rang in my bag.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mia, it's Harry," he said. "Would you like to go out with me Saturday night?"

I giggled like a schoolgirl as I sat on my bed and kicked off my shoes. "I'd love to, Harry."

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[tieronecrush]

HELLO CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE ILY <3

obviously I am sending you a smut prompt 🛍️ this one makes my brain go fuzzy

“can you look at me? please?”

and I would love that with literally any Pedro boy you like but I'm feeling either Dieter (bc this man is observed constantly but rarely ever seen I think) or Frankie (bc he do be beggin)

TYSM HANNY BANANNY ILY TOO BESTIE

the idea of dieter asking to be seen just overcame me when i sat down to write this so it is him <3

dieter bravo x f!reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI - no other warnings on my drabbles

After midnight on this random Saturday night, or technically Sunday morning, you find yourself in the bed of your latest match off of your new dating app — Dieter.

Academy Award-Winning actor Dieter fucking Bravo.

To be fair, you hadn’t seen the film he won for, Hunger Strike, and only saw stuff about his featured role in Cliff Beasts 6 and the documentary that was made out of the behind-the-scenes shitshow that was creating that movie.

To you, it had been a fluke that you’d been accepted onto Raya, the app you’d matched with him through. You garnered a generous amount of Instagram followers for posting your art, and have ended up having an extremely successful career selling your originals and prints. During a wine night with your friends, you’d been drunkenly convinced to apply for an invitation onto the app — one of your friends had been accepted a few months before and had been basically a reference for you. It was all very official, and it had gotten you some pretty good matches: actors, YouTubers, photographers, agents, and more.

This was new for you though — it was normally one dinner or drinks, or heading straight to the hookup. You’d done minimal chatting before all of these meetups, but things were different with Dieter. He’d messaged you first, and you’ve been talking for at least two weeks and FaceTiming while he’s been finishing up filming in Canada.

He was actually kind of…sweet.

There was no pressure in your conversations, and no awkward silences when you FaceTimed. His messages made you laugh, made you smile, even gave you butterflies when he complimented your work or called you “a spectacularly arresting genius.”

And after all of those days and nights spent getting to know each other and exchanging spiraling ideas from your chaotic minds, you have ended up here in his California king with the softest linen sheets you’ve ever felt — currently straddling him after he made you come with his fingers and his mouth.

He fills you up completely when you’re fully seated on his hips, soft whimpers echoing through his massive primary bedroom. His fingertips are gripping tight to your hips, surely leaving bruises under their wake when he moves them to your thighs to give you full mobility of your hips.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re a fucking vision over me right now.”

He sits up, one arm wrapping around your back as a moan of your name leaves his lips at the feeling of you finally starting to ride him, lifting and grinding your hips around his cock. His mouth latches onto one of your breasts, kissing the velvety skin and sucking at your nipple. The pleasure stutters your movements, a gasp projecting from your lungs when Dieter fucks up into you, his slapdash pace shaking your thighs as his hit against you.

“Oh my god, Dieter…” Your breathy call to him is punctuated with a high-pitched whine, your head rolling back and eyes screwed shut. All you can manage to reciprocate is circling your hips while his cock drives hard against your walls, the tip of him nailing that spongy spot in you with every thrust. A vice grip is taut through your forearms and hands, digging your nails into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“Can you look at me? Please?” The sincerity in his tone snaps your head forward and your eyes blink open, finding him less than a foot away from you. Steamy air spills from both of your ajar mouths, the tenderness — no, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The intensity of his stare glues yours to his, the only exchanges besides flashes of pleasure in irises being sultry exhales that you both swallow from the other.

“Tell me how it feels for you, babygirl. Wanna hear your voice, please.”

You struggle at first to find any words for this moment, finally clearing all the jumbled thoughts about him to give you something to say.

“I feel so…connected to you. Hasn’t ever felt like this before. Like, a whole ‘nother level…”

“I feel it too, babygirl. Can’t even describe it, really. You fit me like a puzzle piece — your sweet pussy, your curves against me, even your fucking wildly brilliant brain. Could do this all day and night with you, baby, if it always feels like this.”

“Fuck, Dieter, ‘m close, I-I—”

“Let go, beautiful girl, come for me. Wanna feel you all over me, squeezing me.”

It’s a fall from grace — if you could call what you were doing graceful. Blinding hot pleasure radiates all over your skin, vibrating at every point he is connected to you. His name falls from your lips over and over, even a soft thank you thrown in the midst of your visions of heaven. Dieter was guiding you through the winding orgasm, his own hips continuing to hit up against your thighs before they stutter, his warm release coating your walls and extending your euphoria while you watch him come undone under you.

Chests rise and fall at an exponentially slower rate while you both float down, coming back into your bodies and locking into that same intense eye contact from before. It’s a silent transfer of energy until Dieter breaks the quiet first, his palms skating up your thighs with a trail of goosebumps.

“Is it too soon to ask to see you again?”

[prose-for-hire]

Shared Affection

Pairing: Willow x fem!reader; Xander x fem!reader [Bi reader !!]

Request: Hey! can you please write a Willow/Xander x fem reader story where they both have crushes on the reader and they're trying to figure out if she likes boys or girls only to find out shes bi?

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I feel like I’m still a little rusty but I did like writing a little something for this request !! Hope it’s what you wanted and I’m sorry about the wait 💖

You were a new transfer to UC Sunnydale. You could sense that you were on a Hellmouth as soon as you set foot in this new place you would call home. You could sense things, energies and what some may call magic. It just hadn’t occurred to you that this was any different to how other people felt and experienced the world. This would all change, however, once you met who would be your new group of friends. They would show you new possibilities as well as showing you just how powerful you truly are.

You met Buffy in a class you had both taken and subsequently bonded over how much you regretted it. From that first day you both vowed to help each other get through the year. It was as if you just clicked, she was an instant best friend, you could feel it. She then introduced you to her other friends, Willow, Anya and Xander. The latter didn’t actually go to college but he would sneak onto the campus so often and he was good company so you were pleased at this. You got on with everyone so well, it was clear that they had become fond of you almost instantly. Some, more than others.

Over the next five months, Xander and Willow had found themselves adoring you. Neither realising that the other held feelings for you. Xander and you both loved films. You would watch them together all of the time and it became a weekly tradition. You would either go to his basement or he would spend time in your dorm. Sometimes you would forget that the film was on and laugh until you cried at the comments he would make. He was so funny and you couldn’t help but feel so comfortable in his presence.

Willow and you spent time together, she had shown you some small spells for you to practice and you described to her the energy you felt especially now you were in Sunnydale. You could spend hours through the night, just talking. Laughing and sharing your deepest thoughts. She was so sweet to you and you really valued all of the time she spent with you.

Both of them had made you feel so welcome and you enjoyed the attention you had been getting more and more of from them both. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t suspect that one or both of them may have feelings for you. Although, whenever you thought this you berated yourself for assuming more from their friendly natures.

You couldn’t help loving them, they were so kind and they both looked after you in their own ways. Willow and her magic, Xander and his courage. They were truly now extremely important people in your life. You were thinking of this as you saw Buffy saving your usual seat in your class.

She smile and got you up to speed on all of the latest news you might have missed since you saw her last night on patrol. She was now your closest friend and you basically told each other everything. She had finished telling you all about Riley and what she had found out after the Gentlemen had finally been taken care of. Although, she suddenly changed the topic with a smile and a glint in her eye. She wouldn’t go into detail although she happened to hint about you having a ‘secret admirer’. 

Your mind went to Xander and then to willow in almost the same second. Who you suppose you wished it to be. But then, would you want to choose between them? Hurt one at the expense of the other? Would you even be able to choose? Or could you share them both, forget about monogamy, or would that put a strain on their friendship?

Stop. You had to halt all of the scenarios spinning around your head. It was possible it was nobody in your new little friendship group. Perhaps it was a pretty demon that Anya used to know from the olden days that had seen you from afar.

Willow and Xander were sat in the college canteen while you and Buffy were finishing your lecture. Xander had slid in with a group of guys that had finished a game of football so that nobody would question him. They sat and talked for a little but both of their minds had been on you. On their feelings for you. Neither knew that they had never felt this strongly for another person before. They just didn’t know how you could take it.

Willow had been thinking though. She had told Buffy she was gay. She had finally done it. She was a lesbian. She liked girls and only wanted to date girls now. Specifically, you. God, she adored you. Buffy had been surprised at her coming out but after a few months found herself being Will’s biggest supporter. It was easier to accept as Buffy already knew about your sexuality. You had always been open with her about being bi, you just hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone else.

“So, what do you think?” she asked after her usual rambling as she tried to broach the subject with Xander. She needed to see what he would say. She had realised instead that he had zoned out. His eyes watching for someone who was supposed to be here soon.

“Hm?”

“About y/n. I was thinking of asking her out-”

“You can’t!” Xander said, his voice had gone high-pitched at the suggestion. He then coughed and deepened his voice more than he would usually speak it to compensate, “…She’s not gay, Will”

“You don’t know! What are you th-the king of gay people now?”

“No!” Xander said quickly but his heart wasn’t really in their conversation. All he could ever do now was think of you. There was a pause for a while as both of them thought of the other, knowing now that they both felt the same for you. Then they thought of you. Of how close you had become. How kind and affectionate you could be with them. You cared for each of them but neither of them could help but wish for more. Xander suddenly spoke up again, still staring into the distance, “I know, of course I know. Do you, uh, really think… you know?”

“Sometimes she looks at me and I forget to do the breath-y thing” Willow admitted, now rubbing her hands together in her anxiety.

“Well, yeah she does. She’s- Y/n!” He suddenly said, his voice announcing you as he saw you walk towards them. You smiled and waved a little as you weaved between the tables to get to your friends.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s-” Willow replied, not realising you had been standing behind

“Hey, Y/n! Our Y/n, uh, Y/n our friend!” Xander said a little more urgently, over whatever Willow had been trying to say about your sexuality.

You smile and slide into a seat beside them. Both of them made you so comfortable to be around, you had this sense of home around both of them.

“Buffy caught up to Riley in the corridor, so it’s just me today,”

“That’s good!” Willow said, “Well, n-not good that she isn’t here but good that you are and that they have time together”

“Yeah, I think they’ll be okay. I hope so anyway, he could be good for Buffy right? I don’t know much about Angel but she looks so sad every time someone talks about him”

Willow nodded but Xander wasn’t quite listening. He was trying to think of a way to subtly change the subject from Buffy’s love life to yours. He ended up throwing subtlety out of the window an blurt it out.

“So, Y/n, how would you describe your type. What would your ideal man-”

“O-or woman! Or anybody else!”

“Oh, uh, well I’m not sure I have one type. I fall for people for more than their looks I guess. It just depends on the person!” You smiled but faltered slightly as their brows furrowed at your answer. It wasn’t specific enough for them to gauge who you might be interested in.

However, Willow loved your answer, as did Xander. He was usually a little insecure that he wasn’t the best looking guy or that he made too many jokes to be taken seriously by anyone. But of course, with you, it was different. You could sense goodness from them. You could sense love and promise and potential and you adored spending time with them so much.

But you could feel there was a slight tension. As if they were competing where usually they wouldn’t. Or that they were in some kind of unresolved discussion.

“Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity! We are, um, curious cats”

“If for example, Willow asked you on a date and uh, for the sake of this totally hypothetical situation, I also asked you out too – who would you pick?”

“Well, I think that I would be happy with either of you” You shrugged. And their mouths both widened in surprise at the same time. Neither of them had even considered you might like men and women. Even after you said this as you had to elaborate, “I’m bisexual”

They smiled at you, somewhat satisfied with this answer and both hugged you tightly at you admittance. You couldn’t help grinning so wide at their warmth. Then they caught each other’s eye and saw that they mirrored each other’s expression. That they saw that they had a chance with you. At your love. As you got up and excused yourself that you had to get to another class, there was a silent agreement. Both of them were set on competing for your attention. Especially now that they knew they definitely could have a chance to be by your side.

You weren’t really sure what to make of their question, you told yourself not to think too much into it. Just in case your mind began to spit out unrealistic scenarios that would disappoint you. You left them, not aware that they were both intently watching you leave. Your form dancing away from them in that way that they loved. Their eyes never left you and their thoughts lingered even longer.

One day, you would probably have to make some kind of decision. For now, you were just pleased that they accepted you for who you were. That you couldn’t sense even the smallest change in their fondness for you when you told them. For now, you could enjoy their love, whether platonic or otherwise and keep spending as much free time as you could with them.

[fangirl-writes]

Enough

Young!Roger Taylor x Reader

Queen is my latest obsession

Warning(s): Domestic fight, violence (Roger punches a wall), swearing. Angst. I used a gay slur in there once (f*ggot). It’s not an important part of the story, but a warning anyhow because I know some people aren’t comfortable with the word.

Notes: Angsty stuff here people. I hope I pulled on those heartstrings, but I added a happy ending so all’s well. Also I have no idea how record players work but I wish I did. Also I don’t think cheating is ever okay, but we all know Roger did it and I wanted to try something a little eloquent and angsty.

Summary: You and Roger get into a fight because you want to know why you aren't enough.

Roger threw his keys onto the table. “You’re being ridiculous, Y/N!”

“I am not! Roger why won’t you just give me an answer!”

“Because I shouldn’t have to! We’ve had this conversation before I don’t know why you’re getting so upset about this!”

“And I don’t know why you won’t just answer me!”

“I’ve already told you-”

“You haven’t told me anything!”

“I’ve told you enough!”

“Which isn’t anything!”

“Why the hell does this matter so fucking much to you!”

“Because I want to know, Roger!”

“It shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does matter!”

“Just to you!”

“Yeah because you won’t fucking tell me anything!”

Roger turned with an angry shout, flinging his fist into the wall behind him. The sound as the drywall cracked made you scream and Roger turned to you, hand still curled into a now bloody fist, the action not lessening his anger.

The silence that filled the air was suffocating as you stood there staring in horror at the look on his face, the blood coating his knuckles, and the gaping hole that was now in the wall behind him.

Roger walked passed you towards the door and gave it an angry slam on his way out.

You broke down, dropping to the floor and sobbing. You were still angry, still hurt, and still scared.

After about an hour had passed you finally got the strength to get off the floor and make your way to the phone.

You dialed the number that you knew by heart and waited as it rang in the otherwise quiet house.

“Hello?”

“Brian?”

“Y/N?” He said, hearing the heartbreak in your voice. “What’s wrong? Has something happened? Did Roger-”

“We had a fight. He walked out and hasn’t been back for a while and I’m starting to worry about him.”

“You’ve had a fight and you’re worried about him?”

You sniffed, wiping at your wet cheeks.

“God, Y/N, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Would- would you just find him? I-I don’t think he wants to see me but he punched the wall before he left and his hand was all bloody-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, love. It’s not your fault he blew a gasket, okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and felt even more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in response, your throat tight.

“We’ll bring him home.”

That was the last thing he said before hanging up and you choked out another sob, letting the phone drop from your hand and swing from the cord as you found yourself on the floor again, back against the wall as you sobbed into your knees.

Thinking back on it now, it had been your fault the fight had happened.

It had been about Roger’s endless groupies you knew he fucked every time he was on tour.

You’d talked about it back when you first started dating and you’d told him you were okay with it. You’d talked about it with your friends and family who’d been concerned about it and you’d told them you were fine with it. The other Queen members had asked you about it, offering to watch him for you while on tour, but you’d told them it didn’t bother you.

Hell, eventually you’d convinced yourself you were fine with it.

It was fine. I’m fine. What he does when I’m not around is fine because at the end of the day he always comes home to me. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

Then why. Why. Why did it take that stupid tabloid article to finally make you realize that you weren’t.

You don’t even know what compelled you to pick up the magazine. Usually you avoided picking up anything that even remotely mentioned the boys because you knew most of it would be slander. Calling Freddie a faggot or Roger a slut or John an absent husband. You hated those articles.

So then why? You asked yourself again. Why did you pick up that stupid tabloid?

Maybe it was because it was one of the few that mentioned you on the cover? Maybe it was because you were bored and wanted something to flip through? You didn’t remember and it didn’t matter now because the moment your eyes landed on that article it was over. And, at the moment, it felt like your stupidest decision.

Roger Taylor, Queen’s Sex Machine, Back At It Again.

After deciding his current girlfriend, Y/N L/N, wasn’t enough for the famous rock star, Roger Taylor was seen acting more than friendly with various groupies during his last tour. Our sources were not able to find a reaction from Y/N, making us suspect that she either doesn’t know about his sexual escapades, ignores them, or doesn’t care. How long will their relationship last if Y/N can’t fulfill Roger’s sexual needs? And how long will it take Roger to come to the conclusion he’s had enough of her?

Enough.

That was the word that kept playing back for you in your head. ‘Deciding his current girlfriend wasn’t enough’, ‘come to the conclusion he’s had enough.’

Why weren’t you enough?

You didn’t know how long you sat there, no tears left to cry and a whole in your heart. You felt numb. Whatever anger or sadness you’d been holding onto before was gone and replaced with an ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away.

It took a knock at the door to finally let all the emotions come flooding back to you.

Was that Brian? What if he didn’t find Roger? What if he did? Were you ready to face him again? Would he still be mad? Of course he’d still be mad. What would you say? Would you apologize? No, you don’t have anything to apologize for. Then what? If he was still mad, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize, that much you knew. What if he did apologize? ‘I’m sorry I caused you the worry, I’ll change how I live my life because you want me to’? No, that’s not what you wanted, you didn’t want him to change because of your outburst. What if he broke up with you? What if he kicked you out? You didn’t think you could stand going back to your family or friends and their pitying looks and ‘I told you so’s. ‘That’s what you get for dating a rock star’ they’d say. He finally decided you weren’t enough. Enough. Enough. Enough.

The knocking came again, this time harder and more persistent.

You rose from your spot on the floor and made your way to the door, every scenario going through your head as the knocking repeated.

“Y/N, darling, if you don’t open this door right now I’m going to break it down.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that made it’s way to your lips as you turned the knob and opened the door.

“I’d like to see you try, Freddie,”

Freddie Mercury stood on the other side of the door, a sad smile making its way to his lips.

“Brian told me what happened.”

The smile you tried to keep on fell at his words and soon you were in tears again, wrapped in Freddie’s arms.

“Oh, darling, oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothed, stroking your hair as you cried into his shoulder. “I saw that stupid article. I thought something like this might happen.”

You weren’t sure whether his words made you feel better or worse.

He brought you into the living room and sat you down on the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before leaving your side to approach the record player sitting on a shelf near by.

You and Roger spent many hours listening to Jimi Hendrix or The Beatles, sometimes even Led Zeppelin if you could talk him into it. He even danced with you to ‘Since I've Been Loving You’ on your anniversary.

You smiled as he flipped through the albums before deciding on one of their own: A Night At The Opera. The one that, arguably, put them on the map.

You closed your eyes as ‘Death on Two Legs’ started playing softly. It wasn’t their most relaxing song, but their music had a way of calming you down. Freddie knew this after seeing you in the studio with them multiple times, absolutely relaxed in the creative environment.

He occupied the seat next to you again, pulling you to his chest as an offer to snuggle into him.

You accepted the offer and smiled softly as you listened to the angry and bitter song. You remembered them telling you it was based on their nasty former manager, Norman Sheffield.

“His loss,” You’d told them back then. “He’ll be forever known as the man who lost Queen.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Freddie had exclaimed. “It was like a movie scene! You should’ve been there, Y/N. It was a perfect exit.”

“Yeah and then we threw a brick through his window.” Roger added with a smug grin.

“Not our brightest idea.” Brian said.

“Never said any of you were the smartest lot.”

They’d shoved you around for that comment with laughter and good natured retorts.

The memory made you smile, the bad thoughts from before being driven away from your head as you remembered and snuggled against your favorite piano player as his voice drifted through the air.

You wondered if the song would’ve made you angrier if you didn’t know what it was really about and didn’t have the memory attached to it. You supposed it would have but you could only giggle at the lyrics now. It was bitter and mean, as Freddie once called it, but it was a great song.

‘Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon’ came next and you released a breath at the softer tone. The song reminding you of Alice in Wonderland and Singing in the Rain, films that you had watched as a kid. It was a short song, but it did wonders for your mood with its playful and happy tune.

It wasn’t until ‘I’m In Love With My Car’ came on that you realized he’d put the record on the B-Side.

You sat up from Freddie, a frown on your face, mood brought down again. 

“Change it.” You commanded.

“Sorry, dear, too comfortable here.” He replied, a smirk on his face.

You bit your lip, near to tears again, as Roger’s song played along in the background. The song he’d fought himself into a cupboard for and that you relentlessly teased him about.

“Freddie, please, I-I don’t-”

A knock interrupted your sentence and Freddie practically launched himself over the couch to get it.

The limber bastard.

You followed him reluctantly, knowing who would be on the other side of that door. The man singing a song about his car.

Freddie pulled open the door to John Deacon who was stood with a frown on his face that disappeared into concern as he noticed you enter the room.

He moved to hug you, which you happily accepted. Hugging Freddie and Deacy was a comforting feeling that you desperately needed.

“Why’s this song playing?” He wondered aloud, more confused than anything.

The comment made you laugh.

“Y/N.”

You pulled away from John to face Brian who was giving you a similar look. It wasn’t pity, but rather a sort of concern. It warmed your heart to think that they cared for you so much.

Were you enough in their eyes?

“We found him walking. Had to take him to the hospital for his hand, but-”

“Is he still angry?”

“No.” Brian said, catching you by surprise. “I don’t think he’s been angry for a while.”

Your eyes swelled with tears as Brian motioned for Roger to come inside.

If you were in a better mood, you would have laughed. Roger Taylor waiting for permission to go inside his own home.

He walked passed Brian, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring at his shoes.

The song changed to ‘You’re My Best Friend’ but nobody paid any attention to the music.

Freddie had an annoyed expression on his face and opened his mouth to say something until Deacy put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently telling him it wasn’t appropriate and that they’d lectured him enough for one night.

“Happy at Home” the song chimed, normally earning a snarky comment from Roger, but it seemed he wasn’t listening or at least not caring about the line for once.

“Come on, boys, I think we better leave these two alone.” Brian spoke up after a minute of silence. “Fred, I’ll take you home.”

Freddie seemed reluctant to leave. Whether that was because he was concerned or because he wanted to witness the drama of it all was unknown, but he followed the other two band members out the door.

You stood in silence for another minute as the song in the background faded into 39. A song you loved.

It seemed to be the kick Roger needed to finally look up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Hi,” He said.

“Hi...” You replied.

“I’m sor-”

“No.” You shook your head. “No, Roger, please don’t apologize, I don’t want an apology for something I started. No, Rog, all I want is an answer.”

“An answer for what?”

You blinked back tears as you asked the dreaded question again. “Why aren’t I enough?”

Enough. Enough. Enough.

Roger’s eyes swelled up with his own tears and he shook his head with a small laugh.

“Ridiculous, really. You’ve always been enough, Y/N. Always.”

“Then why?” You said, tears streaming freely down your cheeks again. You felt like you’d cried an ocean. “Why sleep with all those groupies on tour? Am I not pleasing you enough? Is that it?”

“No!” Roger exclaimed. “God no, it’s perfect! You’re perfect.”

“Then why?” you asked again, voice raising before dropping to a murmur as you hung your head. “Why?”

Roger took your face in his hands. “Please, don’t cry, love.”

You shook your head, palms digging into your eyes to try to get rid of the tears.

He hugged you to his chest and you felt your heart ache once again because, as mad as you were at him, you longed for his comfort.

“I think I do it because- fuck it, I know I do it because I’m afraid.” He said.

You sniffed. Afraid? Afraid of what?

“I’m afraid that one day you’ll you realize what a twat I am and I’ll come home and you won’t be there. I do it because I’m afraid of getting attached to you, even though I know I already have, because what if you leave me one day? What if you decide that I’m not enough for you?”

You looked up at him. “You're afraid of that?”

Roger feigned laughter, not meeting your gaze. “Yeah, the bloody rock star has feelings. Ha ha.”

“No.” You pull his gaze to you again, feeling about a thousand emotions at once. “Roger, I’ve spent the entire day wondering why I wasn’t enough for you and you’re here telling me that you did all this shit because you think you’re not enough for me? Me?”

You took a deep breath, trying not to cry again.

“I love you, Roger Taylor. And you will always be more than enough for me. No matter how many groupies you sleep with or how many times you hurt me or whatever the fuck those fucking magazines say about you because I love you more than I hate you and sometimes I really fucking hate you.”

Roger smiled sadly at you. “I love you more, Y/N L/N, and I don’t deserve you, not at all. You have always been enough for me and I promise that I will try harder to show you that instead of being the dickhead that keeps breaking your heart.”

You sniffed, burying your face in his chest again.

“Always.” He whispered into the top of your head. “You are always gonna be enough for me.”

“Write your letters in the sand for the day I take your hand. In the land that our grandchildren knew.”

You snuggled into Roger’s chest as ‘39 came to a close, his hand squeezing yours in a sort of reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere again.

“All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand. For my life. Still ahead. Pity me.”

“I love you,”

It was a whisper, barely above his breath but you heard it and you savored the sound of his confession in the sudden silence.

Roger pulled away from you, much to your displeasure and confusion and walked into the living room, making a beeline for the record player. You followed him, hoping not to look too much like a lost puppy.

He flipped the record and adjusted the needle.

He held out his hand as ‘Love of My Life’ started playing.

You’d have cried if you had any tears left.

You took it and he pulled you into a sloppy sort of waltz that made you laugh. The boy could sing, but when it came to dancing he was no John Deacon. You leaned your head on his chest, taking in his scent (cigarette smoke, scotch, and the smell of his lingering cologne).

“I really am sorry. For everything. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

“I know. And I’m not going to forgive you, not for a while, maybe not ever, but we can move past it. Just hold me, yeah?”

And he did. He held you for as long as he could.

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland-Mushy Pancakes

This is kind of an AU, frat boy Tom, or fuck boy! I hope you like him. I’ve read a lot of au’s about this and mob Tom. Maybe I’ll try the latest soon!

Plot: morning sex and breakfast in bed is the best way to wake up.

Warnings: Half-smut

Tom woke up early. The usual noise that filled his frat house on Saturday’s mornings was non-existent, and he was met with a peaceful silence. His eyes were flurry and his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Foggy memories of a bottle of jack and a joint in his hand for the most of the night filled his mind, but not in the way they usually did.

Instead of some random chick in his arms, your body was wrapped around his, your legs intertwined and forehead pressed against his back. He smiled because of the events of the previous night, where you two had decided to have a quiet ‘party’, with alcohol, weed and some bad films, just the two of you; not that he needed anything else. Tom didn’t remember having more fun in his life.

“Morning princess” he said, his voice coarse. You didn’t make any signal of hearing him, and he supposed you were still sleep.

Carefully, he pried your arm off his side, the one that had been resting on his belly. You muttered something in your sleep, but quickly became calm when Tom gave you the pillow to hug. Sitting in the bed, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and let the hangover take a few minutes of his morning.

He wasn’t used to being awake that early; yet a lot of things had changed over the past months. After he decided to start a relationship with you, his life style had changed. He was no longer the wild boy that went from party to rave, staying with you cuddling in the couch being his new favourite activity. It wasn’t as if his life was bad before you; some drugs, that now he could share with you, plenty of alcohol and crazy parties with his brothers and friends. With you, it was probably the same; only that he found a meaning to all of that.

Your laugh played on his mind on repeat as he rolled out of bed and padded his way into the bathroom while stretching. After his morning routine, he found himself pretty generous. Or in love. Yeah, he felt, and was, pretty in love with you. So he hurried downstairs into the kitchen and began pulling things out for breakfast.

He was pouring two cups of coffee when the door opened again, and Harrison came around with his batman printed pyjamas.

“Dude” Harrison said confused with a tilted head and a smile. He knew you were staying on their house for the weekend, and didn’t expect seeing Tom out of his room any time soon. A girl over meant not Tom for hours, not doing breakfast for two “Are you… doing breakfast? In pyjamas?”

“Yeah”

The blonde walked across the cold tiles of the kitchen until he was in front of the food. There were pancakes with pieces of fruit around, your healthy ways making your way around the frat house, who were used to take out and cheap burgers. Even little Paddy, when he came around, chose apples over cheetos. The sweet smell of bacon hit his nose, and his stomach growled.

Before he could snatch something, Tom pinched the skin of his hand harshly, and Harrison squealed in pain. A red strain appeared, and he widened his eyes; Tom only smirked.

“Hey!” he cradled his hand on his chest, rubbing the sore spot. “Why did you do that, asshole?!”

“That’s for Y/N”

“And?” Harrison tried to take a piece of fruit, yet his other hand received the same treatment. “Come one! You’re not going to eat all of that!”

“Maybe” Tom shrugged, filling two cups with orange juice.

“Give me something” Harrison whined. “Why can Y/N have breakfast and not me?”

“Do you have tits?”

“W-What?”

“Do you have pussy? Did we fuck last night? Or yesterday’s morning in the shower? Can you-“

“Okay, okay! Shut up, that’s disgusting!”

Tom chuckled and placed the food in two trays. He was silent for a moment and then decided to do something for the first time of his life; taking one of the fake roses one of the boys had picked up to decorate the place, he placed it besides your coffee. After a final look to check that everything was perfect, he picked them up.

“Are you actually going for the breakfast in bed?” Harrison asked, mouth full of cereals. He had one box on his chest, hugging it almost as if he was afraid Tom was going to take that too.

“Mh. We don’t have anything to do today, might spend the day in”

He didn’t wait for an answer, walking out of the kitchen balancing both trays on his arms. Five seconds later, he pushed open the bedroom room and felt a foreign flutter that lead to goose bumps. His eyes fell on your sleeping body, naked back facing him. Some love marks on your neck for last night could be seen too, and feeling only grew bigger.

Tom set the tray down and crawled on the bed, pulling the sheet down and pressing kisses on your smooth skin. You still didn’t move and he smiled, moving his kisses up and down. Finally, he reached your belly and you stirred with a small hum of approval. He moved quickly and positioned himself in front of you, doing his second favourite thing in your relationship; being the first thing you saw when you woke up.

A small grin made its way to your lips, and you opened your eyes slowly.

“Hey” you said, your voice heavy and rough. “What are you doing up?”

“I thought I could give you a treat” Tom pecked your nose, and you giggled.

“Oh, that’s new. Have you done something bad?”

“What? No!” he laughed, and crawled out of bed. Then, he pulled the tray over and placed it over your lap. “Breakfast?”

You propped up at the sound of food, careful to not throw over the trail. A small giggle left your lips, and Tom smiled proudly. He couldn’t decide if he preferred the moans of last night or the giggles in the morning.

“How long have you been up?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turned back to face him.

“Not for too long” he said softly, his eyes moving from yours to your lips. He pressed his lips to yours in a quick kiss, before you could moan about bad morning breathe. “Since it’s one of our last weekends exam-free, I thought I could give you a treat”

“Now I feel like Tessa” you joked.

“My two favourite girls, we can go and see her today”

You hummed happily as you crunched on a piece of bacon. Once you took a few sips of your coffee and made sure Tom hadn’t put salt on it as a part of a prank, you picked up your knife and fork and dipped them into what were possibly the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever seen. Bits of banana and blueberry still steamed from your fork and, as you put it in your mouth, you almost moaned at the taste.

Since you had appeared in Tom’s life, he had become much more better at cooking. Nikki said that, if you guys ever broke up, she would have to keep you in a basement to keep his boys healthy. How many wonders could love make.

“You like them?” Tom laughed, his coffee between his hands. “Do you need a moment alone with the pancakes?”

“I might” you nodded savouring each and every bite you took “These-these pancakes would keep the whole town up if you opened a diner. Who would have thought the same boy that set fire to the kitchen boiling water could do this”

Tom rolled his eyes, remembering the first time you met. He was still on his dorm, not in the house, and tried to boil some water to cook something healthy for once. Thirty minutes later, everyone was on the street and the building was on fire. You had sat beside him, had known it had been him and that it could get him expulsed; still, you only smiled when the police asked you and told them it was one of the first floors.

“Will you ever let that go? What do you need? I’m already your personal male escort”

“Yeah, I have Tom Holland as my male escort, what else could I want” you laughed, and pecked his lips.

When you teared away, there was a small piece of blueberry on the corner of his lip. It was a small piece of fruit, something you could have cleaned with the napkin or with the tip of your finger.

There was something you had learned with Tom. He was not only a fuck boy that loved sex more than air to breath, but also that his favourite type of sex was morning one. And that only a look could be enough reason to fuck your brains out.

A lick on his lips to clean the strain of blueberries was more than enough. One minute and forty second later, you were under him.

“I love when you go to sleep naked princess” Tom purred, hands tracing over your stomach before making their way to your breasts, cupping the flesh in his hands. “Gives me perfect access to you.”

His hands massaged your breasts, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples as he peppered kisses along the column of your neck, grinned when you arched your back into his touch, moaning with your lips closed.

“Tom, I’m hungry” you said, yet didn’t get your hand out of his hair. After that, it would be probably full of knots that you would have to undo, while he complained like a baby. Its softness was worthy. “I want to eat, let’s wait until-“

One hand abandoned your breast to skirt down your body, fingertips lightly dancing over the skin, causing gossebumps to erupt in their wake.

“First lesson you taught me in breakfast” he muttered against your neck, his tongue poking out and wetting the spot he was torturing. “Don’t put the syrup too soon unless you want mushy pancakes. Guess we’ll have to be quick”

His fingers glided down your stomach, tracing a line where you panties would had been continuing down over your thighs, around the back of your knee before lifting it slightly, hooking it over his forearm. Your protest didn’t get to leave your mouth as he began to place wet kissed into the skin of your shoulder, grinding his length into your non covered pussy.

“You’re an asshole” you pouted.

Tom peered up at you, striking brown lusted eyes meeting yours before a grin spread over his lips.

“Yeah, an asshole that you love”

A small smile played at your lips as Tom leaned down to kiss you, nothing like the peck you had shared when you had woken up. It was slow and sensual, completely matching the mood of the morning. His lips gliding over yours as his tongue stroked against yours. His hips continued rolling as you mewled into his mouth. He broke the kiss to choke down a moan when your clit hit the tip of his cock, the wetness making him shudder.

“So good” he moaned. “Could be doing this all day”

“No one is stopping you” you nipped at his neck, your hips not stopping. “Although probably the pancakes-“

He interrupted you with another kiss. One of his hands came around to tenderly hold your throat, thumb tracing over your jaw as he pressed just slightly over your pulse point. It was nothing dominating, Tom was over the point to prove anything to you. It was true that he had enjoyed the whole dom and sub play always, but with you it was different.

Tom only wanted to cherish your body and adore every part of it.

“I love you” he whined, wanting to be inside you but needing to make sure it was not fucking. It was him demonstrating you how much he loved you.

“Me too, Tom”

Needless to say, he proved it to you very, very, thoughtfully. What better than morning sex and mushy pancakes?

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Spectre - #24WeeksofBond

This week’s film in our 24 weeks of Bond marathon is the latest film in the franchise, 2015′s Spectre.  This would be, (or so he thought at the time), Craig’s final Bond outing...hence why it’s been SO INCREDIBLY LONG for a new Bond movie to come out.  Craig had other things he wanted to do before he could be convinced to suit up as Bond one more time.  But man oh man, am I over these 3, 4, or 5 year gaps in between Bond films.  Daniel Craig has held the role of Bond longer than any other actor - even longer than Roger Moore!  That’s is pretty crazy to think about.  Hopefully the next actor to play Bond isn’t so wishy-washy and we get regular installments at a better pace.  Here’s hoping...ANYWAYS

Spectre is a beautifully cinematic, high speed, throwback to the classics that all too often gets the “Tomorrow Never Dies” treatment.  This film was Sam Mendes’ second Bond film in a row, the first one being “Skyfall” which has been regarded as one of the best Bond films not just of the modern era, but of all time.  So when Spectre came out with the same director at the helm, everyone was expecting it to be the greatest film in all of cinema history.  Unfortunately, it just didn’t quite live up to the hype and therefor this movie gets unfairly ragged on.

Not just ragged on...but absolutely SHIT ON.  I’m not kidding.  I’ve seen a lot of “Bond ranking” posts and YouTube videos where this film is in the bottom 5, and one time I even saw it at the bottom.  THE BOTTOM.  Like, worse than “Die Another Day”.  If you actually think that Spectre is a worse movie than Die Another Day, then you either have no clue what you are talking about, have poor taste in action movies, or are just trying to be controversial to be controversial.  Spectre is by no means the best Bond movie ever, it has its plot holes for sure...but it is CERTAINLY not the worst, and y’all need to start showing this film some damn respect.  Pardon my “R” rated language, YouTubers got me hot!

All that being said, I REALLY enjoy this film.  Right from the beginning we have an incredibly visually stunning pre-title sequence at a Day of the Dead parade in Mexico where we see Bond mysteriously tracking a stooge.  With heart pounding music, incredible costumes, and a beautifully shot scene of Craig tight-roping the roofs of the buildings that causes my anxiety to explode...this is such a stimulating experience.  We later find out that Bond was going rogue and M is pissed and suspends him indefinitely.  But Bond is just following a trail that Judi Dench left for him in a video she recorded before she died.  Why didn’t she tell Bond about this before she died? Whatever...it’s just a movie. 

This leads Bond to uncovering an organization called “Spectre”. You can find the acronym for it in my “From Russia With Love” post!  Bond infiltrates a secret meeting to where he finds out the man at the head table is someone from his past.  The man, who eventually turns out to be Franz Oberhauser (Christoph Waltz) was once a boy who’s father had taken Bond in when his parents died, making ole Franz jealous, and eventually kills his father and fakes his own death...after he was declared dead he adopted a new name - Ernst Stavro Blofeld.  Odd choice, but here we are.  We have a Blofeld again!

Waltz was an exciting pick for the part, but he doesn’t blow me away in the role.  There is always a subtle creepiness to him, but I think he could’ve done more with it.  There was talk of him being replaced as Blofeld in the next Bond movie, but there was enough fan outrage where they squashed that...so I guess he’s doing something right.

One fun aspect of this film is that there is a Bond villain, that Bond never deals with.  Max Denbigh (Andrew Scott) or “C” as Bond dubs him, not really sure why, is a surveillance officer working for MI6, but secretly for Spectre.  Not so secret though, if anyone has seen “Sherlock”, the mere sight of Andrew Scott makes you think he has to be a villain.  He strolls in and politics his way into dumping the double 0 program in favor of ultra cyber security and drones.  If successful, Spectre would have full control over everything.  This guy is all M’s problem, and he deals with him from concept to completion.  Atta boy M! I just always liked how M was on his own with this storyline. 

Another aspect about this film is Bond is falling in love with Madeline Swann (Lea Seydoux), the daughter of Mr. White who has been a thorn in Bond’s side working for Spectre.  Mr. White has seen the light and now Spectre has poisoned him, giving Mr. White reason to give Bond all the info he needs and to protect his daughter.  To me this relationship is a bit rushed and forced.  Bond and Vesper in Casino Royale was done properly, but here, Swann seems to fall in love rather out of the blue. And we’re supposed to believe he is leaving MI6 for her.

We’re also treated to a badass train car fight!  I love me a good train car fight...sadly I don’t think there are any more in the series.  Bond comes face to face with the silent, giant, dagger thumbnail mammoth of a man named Mr.Hinx (Batista).  I’m a little biased here because I’ve been a lifelong Pro-Wrestling fan.  But I gotta say, Batista has acting chops.  This train car fight scene is BRUTAL, and is the scene I think about when I think about this movie.

In conclusion, Spectre is a beautifully shot film with an extra dash of humor, and an excessive amount of call backs to past Bond films.  The voodoo-esque nature in the opening (Live and Let Die), the clinic where Bond finds Madeline Swann (On Her Majesties Secret Service), the crator where Blofeld resides (You Only Live Twice), the ejector seat! (Goldfinger).  While it’s fun to see Spectre tip it’s hat to the past, as a die hard Bond fan, you kind of go “ok, I get it”.  And of course, they kept dropping hints in the movie that Craig was leaving the franchise which stressed me out - especially at the end.  I LOVE Daniel Craig as Bond and I, for one, was not ready to let him go just yet. Also, because of the number.  What I mean by that is the number of films each actor has done has been different.  After “No Time To Die” this will be the movie tally:

Lazenby: 1

Dalton: 2

Brosnan: 4

Craig: 5

Connery: 6

Moore: 7

The next actor to play Bond, can ONLY do 3 movies.  If he doesn’t, it just might bother me for the rest of my life.  Unless he goes for 8?  Well, my obsessive compulsive disorder aside, Spectre is not the perfect Bond film...but it deserves respect for the cinematography, characters, and action scenes.  We should all be thankful Sam Mendes came into the world of Bond, and threw a splash of paint on the franchise.

That’s it for this week!  Hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews from Friends:

My Mom:

I was mesmerized by this film. I think the theme song and opening artwork were stunning. Daniel craig was an older, darker version of Bond. I was pretty thrilled to see him with a mature love interest for once. Someone near his own age. I was hoping she would go on through the story but it was not to be. I thought it was very well done. Anxious to see more of this mysterious dark Bond.

Jake Benrud

Until reading your blog, I didn’t realize this wasn’t a well received Bond! I actually really enjoyed this movie. I think this is the third time watching it for me, and I really appreciate the portrayal of Bond by Craig. I thought Waltz did a great job with Blofeld. The drilling scene is always a bit unnerving, but I’d expect nothing less from a sadistic Bond villain. I did think that for all the intelligence that Blofeld and the SPECTRE organization should have that it was pretty poor planning to be able to destroy their entire facility with one shot to the propane regulator. I mean if you can arrange for an elaborate Bond haunted house at MI6 ending with Blofeld hiding behind bullet proof glass, maybe take the time to protect the propane tank at your facility. Chances are if you’re an evil genius looking for world domination, you’re probably going to have Bond at your door step shooting up the place. I digress. Despite this, I thought the story moved along well and it’s a solid installment of the series.

24 Weeks of Bond will return next Monday with -

Thunderball