#someone get this man a cocktail and some sunglasses

[berryicet]

A travesty

[strawberrysainz]

supercut of us. max verstappen

“ you weren’t expecting him to join the holiday. so when he does . . . you’re not sure how to refrain yourself from both slapping him in the face or pulling him into bed with you. ”

max verstappen x fem!reader

a mini enemies to lovers “blurb” (it’s 1.5k words lol) for my max lovers.

a warning — slightly mature scene, profanity, alcohol consumption

3:36 P.M.

“My heart is pounding,” you admit, and your hand that absentmindedly clutches your moving chest allows you to let out a deep breath.

George chuckles. You’re both waiting for his girlfriend to come back from the bar with your cocktails - you for a drink, him so he can leave you two alone.

The bird that’s just made a grab at your bowl of snacks squawks from a metre away and you stare at it menacingly. Carmen comes back clutching two strawberry daiquiris, and George takes that as his cue to leave, hurriedly. You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s the man got to do at -” you check your watch -“three forty two pm on holiday?”

Carmen shrugs. “He had to get to the airport to pick people up, last I heard.”

You nod knowingly and lean back on the sun lounger, taking a sip of your drink.

Carmen starts to talk about drama from work, and you peer at her through your sunglasses as the warmth of the sun and the comfort of previous tipsiness starts making you drift off.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

4:56 P.M.

Around an hour later you’re rudely awoken by multiple cheeky voices; you can identify George’s loud voice through the squinting of your eyes through the sunlight, but there’s one voice that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s raspy - in a smooth way - but the short cackle that follows it allows you to realise that it's someone you definitely don’t want on holiday with you.

Pure annoyance makes you open your eyes. Carmen is nowhere to be seen; four men stand above you. You sit up, yawning, and hope that you’re not red with sunburn. (Looking down for a split second, you’re not.) Then you look up with some kind of synthetic smile and your blood boils as you look Max straight in the eyes.

“Hi boys,” you say, smiling, and get up to give everyone a hug; Lando spins you around and runs across the sand, and as you scream he throws you into the ocean.

Now you need a drink, for real.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

LATER. 11:37 P.M.

Head heavy in your hand on the counter, you’re woozy, blanketed by too many cocktails, and Lily and Carmen sit across from you stealing blocks of chocolate from a bar Alex bought.

Max strolls in and you grimace.

The anger hasn’t dissipated- being in a serene setting hasn’t changed what happened- and you toss him the drink he nods to; he turns straight back around and leaves.

“What’s the beef with you two, anyway?” Lily says curiously, and Carmen laughs. “It’s so dumb.”

“When we were sixteen-” you interrupt yourself to cough- “he dated two of my friends and caused us all to break up our group. Then he asked me out for a date, we went out, then he ghosted me. I was left with no friends. Then we met again two years later and we had a screaming fight outside a club, which ended up in a Dutch gossip mag. I was so embarrassed.”

Lily scrunches her nose. Carmen has zoned out, but she laughs to herself.

You look at her with the hint of a smile, tilting your head.

She nudges Lily. “They have to share a room tonight.” She whispers, and she throws her head back laughing and you stare at her incredulously. “Sorry?”

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

2:16 A.M.

“Max, I don’t fucking care, I’m sleeping on this stupid thing.” You kick the hard wooden bench at the foot of the bed. (It looks like a terrible place to sleep).

“Can you fucking get over yourself?” He says, rolling his eyes, and you’re drunk and upset and trying not to cry because he makes you so angry. “Just sleep in the fucking bed.”

You stand there in the room with your arms crossed, breeze softly blowing. He huffs and stalks off to the bathroom.

You get dressed for bed, in a big t-shirt because it’s hot and humid. Max walks out of the bathroom as you’re sliding on the shirt and you know he’s gotten a glimpse of your stomach and your underwear because his gaze changes from something frustrated to something you witnessed at the age of seventeen, across a dinner table as his hands move over your thigh.

He seems to be moving without knowing; suddenly he’s in front of you, eyes wild with desire you haven’t ever known, and it’s a test of patience, standing there under the twilight; the curtains blow.

You stand there with trepidation rattling your body and turn around, getting into bed like a stubborn little child.

He closes his eyes, opens the door and leaves.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

9:23 A.M.

The morning air greets you as you walk outside; Lando’s made mimosas on the wooden table next to the swimming pool, and you take a champagne glass gratefully. You wave to Lily and Alex who sit with their feet in the pool, and sip, the sun bathing you in light.

Lando comes to sit next to you by the pool loungers and you raise your glass as a thank you to him. “I heard you two had a little spat last night,” he says carefully, and you snort. “He instigated it and left.”

He laughs. “He went past my room to sleep on the couch. His footsteps were so fuckin’ heavy, I couldn’t even sleep for a good twenty minutes.”

You laugh.

George yells from inside that he’s made breakfast and everyone gets up with a yawn. Lando grabs a spare bottle of champagne and you all walk inside.

There’s some nearly burnt pancakes, heavenly smelling bacon, some sausage, and fried eggs. You all praise him heavily (Alex wraps his arm around his waist and pretends to kiss him) and Max walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge you and instead greets everyone else. You roll your eyes.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

13:43 P.M.

You’re a bit tipsy already, enough so that you can chat to Max amicably beside the pool as George and Alex play some mix of water polo and volleyball.

Your empty glass seems to shout at you from your side, so you pick it up and make your way back to the house.

As you enter the kitchen you hear someone stepping behind you. It’s Max - you know it from the soft thud of his foot against the wooden floor. Your eyelids flutter shut with some emotion you don’t know yet when he comes to stand next to you. You watch him out of your periphery, his hands, the soft, flowing movement of his body. His resting face, squinting with concentration to pour drinks. You bite back some words and carry on pouring.

As you turn around to go back, you two face each other, and your breath hitches when his eyes slowly move to meet yours, clutching your glass like it’s your protector. His gaze is… tender. In the kind of way that blurs out everything else.

The only thing that comes to mind is kissing him, so you move to go, and he sets down a glass to grab your arm. You clear your throat, and Christine McVie’s voice croons in the background when you look back. His eyelashes brush his cheek every time he blinks, and you study his face, forgetting all that came before.

Lando and Alex call, and you both leave. The feelings are left there, back in the house, when you go.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

12:34 A.M.

Stumbling back from the restaurant, everyone bids eachother a good night after a quick drink of a glass of water each. You find your room and start getting undressed in the middle of the room, carelessly, and when you hear Max come in you get a fright and clutch your chest. He lets out a little laugh as he gets his things and moves to the bathroom.

Two minutes later, when he walks back inside, you’re bending over to see your face in the mirror to take off your makeup and you can sense the energy inside the room has changed. He’s in a shirt and those gingham pants that look divine on any man, and he stands still for a moment before moving over to the window. You bend back up and you’re met by his gaze again, frozen in place. Your lips part momentarily and he steps forward, and you’re reminded of how much you hate his stupid face when his lips meet yours. His hands wrap around your waist, one dipping beneath your shirt to rest on your stomach, and you’re kissing him, hard, desperately, messily; in a way that you don’t realise how much you wanted to until now.

He moves slowly to the bed, large hands grasping your waist softly, sending shivers up your spine. His hips press against yours as you fall on the bed, gasping with pleasure as his hands meet your neck.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

TWO MONTHS LATER. 11:56 AM.

In the garage, you’re busy chatting to some mechanics when he comes up to you, and his hands slide around your waist from behind. You twist your torso to smile up at him as he presses a kiss to your cheek, and to your delight he pushes you towards his driver’s room, shooting you a knowing grin as he looks away, holding up five fingers and then a thumbs up. You bite back a broad smile as you walk away.

i hope you enjoyed. heart, comment, reblog pls 🫶🤙 love u love u love u

[kathlare]

drunk calls

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando Norris takes a break from the intense F1 season, heading to Cannes for some downtime with friends. Though he's surrounded by the beauty of the French Riviera, his mind can't help but wander to Amelie, who’s busy filming in the US. After a day of unwinding, Lando, in a slightly tipsy state, calls Amelie and ends up pouring his heart out to her.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

July 22nd, 2024 - Cannes, France

liked by landogossip, drszone4life, and others

f1wagwatch: Lando Norris was spotted living it up in Cannes 🥂🌴 alongside his usual crew, Max Fewtrell and Pietra Pilao, just days after his solid performance at the Hungarian GP. 👏 However, one familiar face was notably absent—sources confirm Amelie is back in the US filming her latest project. 🎥💔 Are we sensing a boys’ trip or just some downtime without the WAG vibes?

View all 759 comments

f1fanatic99: Boys' trip? Nah, it's giving "Amelie gonna kill him when she sees this." 😭💀 → speedyqueen_7: @f1fanatic99 The way he's smiling like he’s free for a second…

drszone4life: Pietra and Max being the mom and dad of the trip again, I see. 😂

landogossip: No Amelie? Interesting. Let the speculation begin. 👀 → gridgirl_xoxo: @landogossip Bro, she’s literally WORKING. Let her breathe. 🙄

lapqueen44: Cannes with the boys, huh? Bet he's FaceTiming her every hour. 🤣 → fastandflirty: @lapqueen44 Lando? Obsessive boyfriend era. 100%.

f1trash_420: Lando partying without Amelie is like Max without Red Bull—just feels off. 😭

ameliesarmy: Lando, you better be on your best behavior. We’re watching. 👀

drshadeslover: Someone check his phone—how many "I miss you" texts he’s sent already? 💀 → f1memehub: @drshadeslover Probably texting Amelie mid-party like, "Wish you were here 🥺."

chequeredcutie: If Lando doesn’t behave, Amelie’s gonna write another breakup anthem. 👏

orangearmy69: “Boys’ trip” aka Lando causing trouble while Max plays babysitter. 🤡 → paddocktalks: @orangearmy69 Poor Pietra, third-wheeling their bromance again. 😂

ameliefansonly: If I see ONE suspicious photo from this trip, it's OVER for him. 👀

f1lurkersonly: Someone call Amelie, her man’s unsupervised. 🚨

teamdayman: He should be flying to the US to support Amelie, not vibing in Cannes. 🤔 → norrisfanatic: @teamdayman Let the man breathe; not everything has to be about her.

--------------

Lando woke up in Cannes to the soft lull of waves crashing against the shore, but the soreness in his muscles from the Hungarian Grand Prix reminded him of the intense weekend he’d just endured. He groaned, running a hand through his messy hair, and rolled over to check his phone. A text from Max Fewtrell blinked on his screen.

Max Fewtrell: Beach day, mate. No excuses. Let’s go. We’re meeting Pietra at the club.

He stared at the message for a moment before groaning again and typing back.

Lando Norris: Fine. But I’m not getting drunk.

By midday, the trio had staked their claim on a prime spot at a beach club, with white sand under their feet and a waiter never too far away. Max and Pietra were already sipping on cocktails, laughing about some inside joke, while Lando leaned back in his lounger, sunglasses on, trying to relax.

—You look like you’re in a mood,— Max teased, nudging him with his foot.

—I’m fine,— Lando muttered, taking a sip of the beer Max had practically forced into his hand.

—Sure, you are,— Pietra chimed in, smirking. —Loosen up, Lando. You’re in Cannes, not a press conference.—

After a couple of rounds, Lando started to unwind. The alcohol was working its magic, and soon enough, he was laughing along with Max and Pietra, his earlier tension melting away. The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting everything in hues of gold and pink.

As the hours passed, Lando found himself at the bar, another drink in hand. He wasn’t smashed—yet—but the buzz was strong enough to blur the edges of his usual self-control. A group of girls nearby noticed him, giggling and whispering among themselves before one mustered up the courage to approach.

—Hi,— she said, twirling a strand of her hair. —You’re Lando Norris, right?—

—Uh, yeah,— he replied, offering a polite smile but immediately feeling the shift in the air.

—I just wanted to say, I’m such a big fan. Can I get you a drink?—

Lando hesitated, glancing back at Max and Pietra, who were watching the interaction with amused expressions. —Appreciate it, but I’m good,— he said firmly, raising his glass.

—Oh, come on,— she purred, stepping closer. —Just one drink? You deserve to celebrate.—

—Yeah, I’m... I’m all good, thanks,— he said, taking a step back. —Have a good night, though.—

He walked back to Max and Pietra, shaking his head. —Why does this always happen?—

—Because you’re famous and hot,— Pietra said matter-of-factly, earning a laugh from Max.

—Still taken,— Lando muttered, finishing his drink and standing up. —Think I’m done for the night.—

Max and Pietra exchanged glances, knowing exactly where this was headed.

Back in his room, the buzz had turned into a full-blown drunken haze. Lando flopped onto the bed, fumbling for his phone. His thoughts, clouded by alcohol, zeroed in on one person: Amelie. He wanted to hear her voice, to tell her how much he missed her.

He unlocked his phone and dialed her number, his finger slipping on the screen a couple of times before he managed to hit “call.”

Amelie was sitting in her trailer, scrolling through her script when her phone lit up. Seeing Lando’s name, she smiled but immediately guessed what was happening. She answered on the second ring.

—Lando?—

—Ames!— he said, his voice louder than usual. —Miss you, babe. Like... so much.—

She bit back a laugh, already amused. —You sound drunk. Are you drunk?—

—No,— he said, dragging out the word. —Okay, maybe. But like, just a little. Barely. I swear.—

—Mmhmm,— she said, grinning. —How was the beach club?—

—Boring. Max and Pietra are boring. Everyone’s boring. Except you.—

Her laughter bubbled through the phone. —Oh, I see. So now I’m the life of the party?—

—You are, Ames,— he said, his voice softer now. —Like, you’re my whole... my whole everything, you know that?—

—Lando,— she said, her tone teasing but affectionate. —You’re so far gone right now.—

—No, no, no,— he insisted, sitting up clumsily on the bed. —I mean it. I love you. Like, love you love you. You’re so... ugh, I can’t even think of a word. Perfect. That’s it. You’re perfect.—

Amelie’s cheeks flushed, her heart doing a little flip at his words. —You’re very sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?—

—I’m sweet all the time,— he countered, his voice defensive. —But like, I’m extra sweet right now because I miss you so much. It’s not fair, Ames. Why are you so far away?—

—I’m working, Lando. You know that,— she said, though her voice was tinged with amusement. —But we’re seeing each other soon, remember?—

—Not soon enough,— he grumbled. —I want you here now. Or I want to be there. Either way, I want you.—

There was a pause, and then his tone shifted, lower, softer. —You have no idea how much I want you right now.—

Amelie’s eyebrows shot up, but she couldn’t help laughing. —Oh, do you now?—

—Yes,— he said, unabashed. —Like... you don’t even understand, Ames. You’re so fucking beautiful. Like, the most beautiful person ever. And I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I’d say it sober, too. Probably better sober. But like, it’s true.—

She bit her lip, trying to keep her composure. —Lando, you’re really laying it on thick tonight, huh?—

—Because it’s true!— he said, almost whining. —And I want to... ugh, I can’t even say it. You’re too far away, and it’s torture. I’m tortured, Ames.—

—You’re dramatic,— she said, laughing softly. —But also very cute. Go to sleep, Lando. You need it.—

—Not until you say you love me,— he said stubbornly.

—I love you,— she said, her voice warm. —Now, get some rest. You’re going to hate yourself for this tomorrow.—

—Don’t care,— he mumbled. —Love you, too. Like, so much. Goodnight, Ames.—

—Goodnight, Lando,— she said, smiling as she hung up, shaking her head at his antics.

The next morning, Lando woke up with a pounding headache and a vague memory of pouring his heart out over the phone. His cheeks burned as he unlocked his phone to find a single text from Amelie.

Ames💛: You’re adorable when you’re drunk. But wow, Lando. Just... wow.

He groaned, burying his face in the pillow. —I’m never drinking again.—

[notroosterbradshaw]

My Father's Eyes - prologue

about: Bradley comes to terms with growing up without a father to guide him while quickly adapting to become one himself… to a child who wants nothing more than not to have him in her life.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, angst, fluff, smut [...probably]. no posting schedule.

You slipped your phone carefully into your backpack, cursing low. It hadn't stopped blowing up since you took the opportunity to unwind a little with a few after-work drinks. You were generally an automatic no, so giving the affirmative to a question perennially asked just to be polite was met with more confusion than excitement - you weren't sure how it made you feel. Your social skills felt like they were severely lacking (not to mention the pop culture references you were behind on unless it was, of course, Taylor Swift)... You simply weren't social anymore. 

You mostly tolerated your work associates, they were all friendly, smart, and considerate, but come Friday, you were on your time and couldn't wait to get home to start your weekend. You had wine, pizza and TV to catch up on and it would be perfect. Basic in its simplicity and you didn't care what anyone else thought.

"One more drink," your co-workers begged. 

"Let loose, we never get to hang out aside from work," they added.

And while you were having a pretty good night, you had other reasons to be home - 

But the revelry was about to end as hoots and hollers of patrons in the bar overcame a raucous Friday night crew as a group of sailors walked in. Grand in their whites, gleaming, broad grins, covers and sunglasses in the dim, overcrowded room. Your eyes scanned each one like they always did when moments like this materialised. 

Your heart rate elevated, and the hairs on your arm pricked up. Hands clammy - 

The warning signals in your brain were firing louder than an air raid siren. That face you never expected to see again among that crowd, and it was more handsome than you could even recall.

Bradley Bradshaw. Your first... everything. Young and dumb, you fell head over heels for that boy with his head in the clouds and that impish grin. He who dreamed big, much bigger than you ever could imagine.

Tall, broad, tanned, unassuming. He was surreal, it felt like a dream how he’d just returned your life without warning. This wasn’t his hometown, so you knew he was here for work. A nightmare occurred even as you rose from your place at the small cocktail table and started making your apologies for the drink just placed before you, reaching eagerly for your bag and other random belongings you’d whipped out. 

That you had to get home, "Oh, look at the time - " that you had to go - 

You had to just get the hell out of The Hard Deck. You knew better, even if the time to now had been on your side in previous ventures to the joint. 

The crowd swarmed them, and you took your opportunity to try and get out without being noticed. You knew Bradley had no idea you would be there. The beautiful man was immediately surrounded by striking women all vying for his attention, and although he appeared to enjoy it, he was keeping them all at bay. You could see that from your safe distance.

But that last tequila had done you in and you had to get to the bathroom before you got into the Uber - while you weren't feeling the effects of the alcohol, you felt could be ill at any moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you hissed to yourself, slamming the cubicle door after you, the safety of the bathroom gave you small comfort but it relieved the feeling of someone standing on your chest in any way. 

Sitting, you had no choice but to overhear the gossip of the sudden arrival of the newly decorated squad who had just entered the place, sending the bar into a tizzy.

“ - Hangman is blonder - " 

" - suave Coyote was - "

"I don't know how Natasha can be around such sexy men all the time."

"Come on, she's as talented, and dear god, she as hot as them. Don't discount her rank because of some guys. I’m sure she deals with pissing contests 24/7.”

You silently cheered for the last person's comment, whoever this Natasha was. Good for her. 

But no mention of Bradley. 

"It's like the Navy put together the sexiest aviators they had - " this person was also right. They always grandstanded like they were in movies. And tonight, even Bradley.

Flushing, you pulled yourself together and made a hasty exit strategy in your brain as you furiously washed and dried your hands. The closest door from the bathroom was also the furthest from the pool table and you were in luck as you heard the roar and the familiar opening keys to Jerry Lee Lewis' Whole Lot of Shakin' Going On.

Come on over, baby, whole lotta shakin' goin' on, Yes, I said come on over, baby, baby, you can't go wrong...

And abruptly, you were young, dumb and 21 again. Falling for this schtick then and, by God, his voice deeper than it was and you could swear, better. Sexier. Older. Bolder. Not your shy, quiet reserved college boy on his summer vacation in San Diego... but look at you now, falling for this schtick again. The way he could sway people on full display as the crowd and his friends/teammates, how were you to know, tumbled over each other at the grubby old piano you’d never seen touched to now to spread the revelry with him.

"My old man listened to this album so much when I was a kid," Bradley said quietly, delicately handing the cover to you as he wandered over to the old turntable he'd mentioned was also his father's and you watched him intently. He could make you listen to white noise or nails on a blackboard and you’d be enthralled with it. "I don't have too much of his stuff," he explained, considerate as he dropped the pin on the record tenderly. "But this song," he laughed quietly as Great Balls of Fire filled his small room of the share house he stayed at that school break. "We sang this song a lot as a family. Please don’t hold it against me, I’m very aware Lewis was a fuckin’ creep of a dude,” and you couldn’t resist your smile as he offered you his hand and danced with him. 

And how often that summer that hand lead you down a garden path of trouble. 

You probably hadn't listened to Jerry Lee Lewis since it reminded you too much of him. And of course, the artist was controversial at best, just like Bradley said but you’d never, ever forgotten the words.

And as you headed towards the door, the need to see Bradley Bradshaw just one more time overwhelmed you. His jacket stripped and sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled to his thick golden forearms, the collar on his shirt strained around the thick ropes of muscles of his neck and throat as his cheeks pinked in the hot room. 

Aviators sliding down his strong nose in the exhilaration of being the centre of attention. He was thriving off it. 

He was as handsome as the day you met him. The way he captured your attention as he retrieved the football that landed near your beach bag that fateful day. His soft voice of apology as his buddies teased him down play. He apologised on their behalf and asked if he could make it up to you   The way he handled the room funny to you, your once shy, quiet boy now commanding the group at the bar, singing with him, vying for his attention... singing to just get that small piece of his time. 

Home soon kiddo. Hope you had a good night with Amelia, you texted quickly.

As the song ended and the place erupted again in enraptured applause, you slinked out as more sailors slipped in and took in a deep breath, the humid beach air filling your lungs and you called for the quickest car to get you home safely... to safety. 

"Hey," you heard the voice behind you. You were so fucking close to the car... so close to escaping without a trace... but just like the old days, his voice warming you to your bones. But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, even as he gently took your wrist and guided your body towards his. "Holy shit," you heard the small flutter of laughter in a bubble against his lips. “It is you.” He was clearly as shocked as you were. 

The softness in his rough rasp. It had haunted the better part of the last 14, 15 or so years. Dreams, nightmares. 

You were so close to breaking free of the bar without him seeing you - but that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. In his quiet calm, he was always watching. 

...bringing yourself to raise your eyes to him was the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. To his warm, humoured honey ones, his grin just melted you like it always had. So much about him had changed, the moustache you were perplexed about. Some faint scars marred his handsome face that you didn’t recall but they certainly didn’t look new (even if new to you). They gave him a light ruggedness, maturing him. But you could only compare him to the senior in college, eagerly awaiting his acceptance into the Naval Academy. 

And he was big. Taller, broader, stronger. BIG. 

And white certainly was his shade. He chewed his lower lip, and you were reminded of the charming boy who left you all those years ago. The man now before you who didn’t even know he had changed the course of your life.

"Hello, Bradley," you finally said, and he stood to height, the recognition in your voice as you tried to keep his gaze. His tongue tracked his upper lip and he finally smiled, not the smug arrogance on display as he and his team ponied in earlier, but the sweet genuineness that was simply Bradley. 

"Hi," he swallowed. "Been a long time," he reckoned. 

"Yeah," you agreed. 

"Looks like time has been good to you," he said, low, appreciatively.

And you laughed as he visibly relaxed, the flirt enough to break you. You weren't sure if he was trying anything, but the air was finally making it to your lungs. 

"You still livin' around here?" 

You gave a soft nod. "Yeah." 

"I'm just in town a few days," he admitted as you nodded. "I - my team and I - were just promoted. Lieutenant Commander."

"This why you're all dressed up - or were?"

"My whites?" he asked.

"I saw you come in."

"And yet you tried to sneak out before you said hi," he teased.

"I'm sorry," you admitted. "But congrats on your promotion. Kind of a big deal?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Kind of." 

Hearing the knocks on the glass, his attention was demanded back inside. Relief swept through you as he shooed them away with a swift flick of the bird and they howled inside but left him to his devices.

"How about coffee this weekend? It would be great to catch up," Bradley pressed. "Find out what you've been up to. Husband, family, work. All that stuff."

"Ha," your voice faltered. "I'm pretty sure it's nowhere near as exciting as yours," you forced a laugh, and he really didn't seem to take the hint. His pout at your near rejection only seemed to spur him on further.

"One coffee and I'll get back on the boat and be out of your life forever," his lips quirked, and you remembered how you felt when he made that face without the moustache. He could get away with a lot then, just like he was getting away with it now. "Look... here's my number," he urged, holding out this hand as you sighed and unlocked your phone to enter the digits. You saw how he'd saved it.

Bradley Bradshaw (a big deal?). You had to laugh as he winked, relieved for the smile that crossed your features but you weren't sure if he was offended or not when you didn't offer yours in reply. 

"Kind of a big deal," you confirmed with a giggle, those nerves bubbling under the surface rapidly now. He shrugged, the cheekiness of the boy you knew still evident in the man before you.

"Text me if you wanna catch up. I wanna hear about what you've been up to since graduation all those years ago. I fly back to Virginia Tuesday."

"Fleeting."

"Very much," he agreed. Sighing (with relief, but Bradley would never catch that), your Uber was right before you. He moved around you to open the passenger door. "Been a long time..."

"Longer than you know," you admitted, slipping into the car and he carefully closed the door behind you as the driver recalled your address and you left Bradley Bradshaw for what you hoped was the last time. 

Your fingers itched to delete his number, but all you had to do was get through the next few days without the temptation to text him and it would be fine. 

Life would go on and he's sail off into the sunset again like he promised.

Home ten or so minutes later, you made a beeline for upstairs. The bedroom door closed and silent from the other side. You pushed your way in quietly, the room dark, and you sat on the side of the bed, your hands drifting to the mess of dirty dark blonde curls splayed across your daughter's pillow as she read on her phone with her earphones on.

"Hi, sweetheart," you whispered, gently pushing back a tendril on your daughter's forehead. "Bedtime?" you suggested as she shrugged. Ahh, teens. You kissed her forehead before standing and leaving her room, your beautiful girl protected under the snuggly covers. 

You didn't know how you were going to tell her that you saw her father tonight. After all these years and radio silence, doing what you could to protect her from the hurt you knew you'd caused by keeping this very real secret from Bradley. 

"Shit," you muttered, wandering the hallway to your bedroom, your nerves shot, hot tears threatening and everything you'd done so well protecting to now... about to shatter into a million pieces with the return of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[chanshoesunite]

Chan on the Beach

Content Info: Chan and Y/N meet on a beach in Australia at Christmas and have some fun. This is an edit of Hare's bday fic for Tortoise. No beta we die like Y/N's resistance against lifeguard Chan.

Word count: around 6K

Warnings: semi-public sex, dirty talk

„Aaaah, this is the life!”

You reach over to grab your Virgin Lavender Mojito off the little table next to your lounger. Taking a sip through your plastic-free straw, you let your gaze, well-protected behind your heart-shaped shades, wander across the bay. From your position high up next to the rooftop pool of the renowned “Park Hyatt Sydney”, you can see the world-famous opera house.

“I know, right?” Your best friend Hare is next to you, holding a flashy pink cocktail. “Bless this job!”

As a pilot, Hare is allowed to bring someone along whenever she needs to fly over one of the major holidays, and since it’s Christmas in Austria right now and you’ll only fly back on the 28th, she chose her best friend to keep her company in her five-star hotel. There really are worse fates.

You stand to let your gaze properly explore the vicinity. “Do you fancy going to the beach?” you ask, spying the almost glisteningly white sand in the distance.

Hare raises an eyebrow at you, which you only realise because now it appears behind her sunglasses. “And getting eaten by a shark? Is this your idea of a good time?”

You giggle. “Oh, come on, there are safety nets. And anyway, I was thinking we could do one of those fun videos where you throw sand and I twirl in it? You know, for the Gram?”

Hare looks like she has half a mind to protest, might find this not worth the hassle, but then her smile softens. “Sure,” she says. “Let me check with the hotel staff to find the best beach access for us.”

…

An hour later, you are in your gloriously colourful bikini, twirling barefoot in the sand even though it’s too hot for comfort – not that you would give that away and ruin your Instagram reel, though. Hare is holding your phone, trying to get the perfect angle to have the sun glistening in a golden hour-way on the water.

“And now the sand,” you prompt. “You kinda just let it fly in the breeze, so it looks nice behind me.”

Hare looks dubious for a second. “What if I mess up and hit someone else?” You wave it off. “There’s nobody around!”

It’s true enough – it’s around dinner time, and your stretch of the beach is, possibly due to the holiday, rather empty. Hare nods. “Okay, sure.” She bends down to grab some of the white sand and repositions herself to throw it into the air. You twirl, and from the way Hare’s lips widen into a grin, you can tell it’s a great shot. You can already imagine how amazing you’ll look and how many likes you’ll get, maybe you should cross-post it on TikTok and-

“Oi!”

Both of you turn to see someone standing there. And what a someone. Well, two someones, actually, but your eyes are glued to Someone Number One. He isn’t exactly tall, but well built, his black swimming shorts showing off his narrow hips and creating a marvellous contrast to his thoroughly-trained upper body. He has a sharp jawline that you would like him to use to cut you into chips, a big nose, well-formed cheek bones and beautiful eyes that are, admittedly, currently glaring at you. “What’s that all about?”

One glance at his wet upper body, which is now covered in sand, tells the entirety of what happened – that he is the unwilling participator in an Instagram challenge gone just a little wrong.

Hare gets her bearings faster, but from the way she eyes the taller, lithe man next to the buff grumpy guy, you assume that in order to get into her head, you would have to pass an 18+ ID check. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there and meant absolutely no harm!” She extends one of their towels to the taller guy who looks a little like a Korean forest fairy. “Here, please.”

The guy accepts the towel from her, cleaning his (for his build) substantial abs. You tear your gaze away and meet the buff dude’s eyes, who sarcastically pulls up one eyebrow. For a second, you don’t know what to do.

“Oh!” You realise he’s expecting you to also offer him a towel, so you do. At the way you briefly flounder around, your nemesis’ face softens, and a little smile plays on his face. It’s a good look on him, you decide. “Cheers”, he thanks you, cleaning himself up. “What were you even doing there, throwing sand?” he asks, somewhat curious and content now that the sand isn’t on his pecs but your expensive hotel towel. His voice is still a little gruff, a little dark, a little deep, his Australian accent making it all the more delicious.

Hare, the ever-trusting girl that she is, extends her phone to him. “I was filming a slow-mo reel. It looks absolutely gorgeous if you ask me. Sorry again, but it was kind of worth hitting you with sand for it.”

The two men watch the reel and you can feel your face heating up. You haven’t even seen it yourself yet, and now those two handsome dudes get to do so before you?! You should be mad at Hare, but from the way buff guy’s face softens watching it, you really, really can’t.

Handing her phone back to Hare, the guy looks at you. “You’re beautiful in this,” he says, a little sparkle in his dark eyes. “If I can follow you on Instagram, you’re forgiven.”

Ummmmmm. That’s a statement you haven’t anticipated. You gulp a bit. “Okay,” you agree, and accept the phone back from Hare to open the app for him. Your hand brushes his as you hand it over, and the back of your neck prickles. At the touch, his eyes find yours, and he smirks just the tiniest bit before focusing on the device to type in his Instagram handle. You feel a little lost for words, so you look over at Hare, who confidently winks at you. “Maybe we can buy you two a drink in order to make up for the, er, Sand Incident?”

The other boy chuckles. You take a moment to look at him more carefully and appreciate his fine features, his longer hair tied back in a ponytail. He is beautiful, no doubt about it, but you prefer his shorter friend. “That’s a lovely offer, but we’re actually headed to a party later.” Ponytail glances at the Short King. “But actually…?”

The Short King has finished typing his name. “Yeah, how about you come along?” he finishes the sentence. “I’m Chan,” he adds as he hands back the phone, “but lots of people call me Chris.” Chan nods at the phone and you glance at the handle. “Chanstopher97”. Oh, he’s younger, too. Hot. You accept his following request.

“And I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy smiles at Hare in a way that shows you he seems just as taken with your friend as her body language suggests she is with him. Nice.

“I’m Y/N,” you take charge of the conversation now, and there is a laugh dancing in Chan’s eyes. “And that’s Hare. And about our evening plans…” You look over at Hare, hoping to telepathically communicate that you’re not ready to make this impromptu decision without talking it through with her first.

Hare smiles. “We have dinner plans, but why don’t you text Y/N the address and we’ll see if we can meet you there?” You two share a look and you feel seen and comforted. Hare is keeping your options open but not consenting or refusing in your name.

There is slight disappointment in the two men’s faces, but that’s their issue. “All right,” Chan agrees, running a hand through his darkly wet hair and you are mesmerised by the way the muscles flex on his arms. “I’ll text you in a bit.” He smiles at you. “I really hope to see you there. It’s at the beach, but it does get cool at night, so make sure to bring a hoodie.” He pauses strategically. “Or you can always wear mine.”

You bite your lip to suppress a giddy grin, and his eyes follow the movement. There is an almost hungry quality in his gaze before it flickers back up to again. “See you later.” The confidence he lays into these three words is astounding but very attractive.

Hyunjin smiles sweetly at Hare, which she reciprocates, and then the two men make their way up the beach, in such a manner that the two of you can appreciate their backsides. When they turn around, you feel caught, and the slight blush on Hare’s face betrays the fact that she is experiencing the same emotion. As if in unspoken agreement, you both turn around and sink down in the sand, onto your respective towels that are already dirty anyway.

You are quiet for a moment. Then- “Well, damn,” Hare says.

“Damn,” you agree.

“He’s really hot.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“There’s one for each of us.”

“Yeah.”

Hare glances over at you. “How do you feel about a beach party on Christmas Day in Australia?”

You watch the setting sun glittering on the waves. How do you feel about this? On the one hand, many strangers in one place, mixed with alcohol, are never on top of your list when it comes to a desired evening programme. On the other hand, the party doesn’t have to be where they stay, does it? And Chan, Chris… He is really something. If he were lavender lemonade, you’d sip him. Hehe. Also, as a pilot, Hare has to stay sober, so there will be at least one reasonable person around – or, knowing your besty, at least a sober one.

“I think,” you say slowly. “Theoretically, if we didn’t like it, we could go home at any time. And we can share our location in case we lose each other.”

A slow smile spreads across Hare’s face, reminding you of a cartoon cat who has spotted an especially delicious baby bird. “All right,” your besty agrees. “Let’s party tonight.”

…

Chan texts the details within ten minutes of meeting you and you try not to let it get to your head. Hare and you enjoy an outstanding dinner on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, a Christmas present from the airline, and don’t let the prospect of two hot Korean men on a beach force you to hurry through the five delicious courses. Afterwards, you throw on bikinis, shorts, cute tops and pack long-sleeved items as well, just to be on the safe side. With on-fleek eyeliner and beautiful lipstick, you must surely be the hottest besty duo that has ever walked the hallways of this grand hotel, or so you think on their way downstairs to catch your Uber.

The party location seems to be a dive bar, and as you approach the hut, you are relieved to see that while there is a crowd gathered, it is not overwhelming. The last rays of sunlight are winking over the horizon as the two of you enter the bar.

The interior design is a little bit clichéd in its maritime theme, but since this is your first authentic dive bar experience, you don’t mind. You glance at the nets, the taxidermied swordfish, the life belts, take in the Jack Johnson song playing, and decide you like it. The bar is situated in the middle of the wooden building, an “o” marking the centre of the spot. And right there, behind the counter, drawing a beer, is-

“Is that Chan?” Hare asks the exact moment you realise that your crush is actually working here. Your gaze falls onto Hyunjin next to him, wiping glasses, and the women waiting to catch their attention in front of the bar. “Well,” you conclude. “It seems we’re here for the most popular boys. Damn.”

Hare grabs your hand. “That won’t stop us,” she disagrees. “After all, we are the hottest here.”

She pulls you towards the bar, and it is almost eerie how fast Chan’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. His slowly crinkle as he begins to smile. “You came!” he calls over the music and the waiting people, and some of them actually make space for Hare and you. “We came,” you confirm, propping your elbows up on the bar. “And you came to work, by the looks of it?”

Chan seems sheepish for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “We are only doing the first shift,” he explains, “and then we’ll be all yours.” He gestures around the room. “You can check out the place or the beach if you’d like. Or hang out with us back here?” He has one hand on the door that swings inward and allows for entrance into the centre of the bar.

Hare glances at Hyunjin. “If we hang out back here, will you make us a kickass alcohol-free cocktail?”

Hyunjin smiles – he really looks good in his loose Celine racerback; you have to admit that. “My pleasure,” he says in a voice that is deeper than you remember.

Hare turns to you. “Beach or bar?” she asks.

You barely hesitate. “Bar.”

…

If someone had asked you a few months ago if spending Christmas day behind a bar sounded like fun, you probably would have refused to even consider the possibility. But this – sitting on chairs with Hare, sipping the amazingly lavender-flavoured cocktail Hyunjin created for you, watching the men work, throwing dish towels or napkins at them in jest – this is a perfectly lovely evening. There isn’t much time to chat, but just by looking at them interact with each other, their customers and their work, you get a better idea of their characters.

Chan seems to be caring, friendly, supportive, flirty, Hyunjin appears to be sweet, sassy and a little on the dramatic side. Both of them react well to the sarcastic comments Hare sometimes throws their way, teasing her back and each other. It is obvious that they are firm friends and likely have been for a long time.

“Hey, Hyunjin, your mojito game is actually pretty weak,” Hare exclaims, hopping off her barstool and joining the taller Korean man at the bar, elbowing him gently. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Hyunjin’s gaze at her is challenging, but he hands her the bottle. “I am ready to be impressed.”

Someone snorts next to you, and you glance up to find Chan very close to you, also watching the two of them. “Hyunjin’s flirting technique need work,” he says, chuckling softly but not unkindly.

You arch an eyebrow at him. “And yours doesn’t?”

Chan turns to you, and with you propped up on your high bar chair, the two of you are eye to eye. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice suddenly just a tiny bit rough, his eyes intense. You feel yourself blushing but don’t look away. “I am,” you agree.

He shrugs. “Then I don’t think it does.” Chan winks at you and returns to the considerable queue in front of the bar, slapping Hyunjin on the shoulder in the process. “Stop flirting!” he barks, and from the way his friend blushes and Hare starts giggling, you can tell that you are not the only one behind this bar who is experiencing chemistry between herself and a man she met at the beach mere hours ago.

The first shift passes quickly, and as the bar fills up, you love seeing Chan get just a little bit hot, his dark t-shirt, tight to begin with, sticking to him in all the right places.

Finally, when a few of their friends come to take over, Chan throws the dish towel he has been holding down onto the bar and turns to you. “Finished!”, he exclaims happily, an almost childlike joy at having completed his task on his face. He extends his hand to you, offering you help in jumping off the chair. You take his hand, and it’s just a little rough. Does he surf? Play the guitar? You intend to find out. Relishing the moment, you wait just a tiny bit before jumping off, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re firmly on your feet, either. You look up at him and there is something in his eyes. A dare to let go? Dream on, pretty boy, you think. I dare if you dare.

Hyunjin hands Hare two glasses – two more of the delicious mocktails, you are happy to see – and grabs two bottles of beer. “Shall we?”

The four of you leave the bar area and then the building behind, and you are thankful to be holding Chan’s hand so as to not lose him in the throng of people that seems to have been growing steadily throughout the past hour. Soon, your sandals hit the sand. There are beanbags on the beach, and miraculously, not all of them are occupied yet, possibly because the night air is just a little bit chilly already. Now you have to let go of Chan’s hand and follow the impulse to run across the now cool sand and throw yourself into an extra-large beanbag, giggling happily. Chan is not far behind, though, approaching you at a languid pace, two drinks in his hands which he has seemingly picked up from Hare and Hyunjin, watching you with a smile. When he is finally standing over you, you glancing up at him, his bravado seems somewhat diminished. “May I join you?” he asks, and when you wiggle just a little bit to the side and pat the newly gained space next to you, his smile widens again. He lets himself sink down next to you and you are overwhelmed by how much you like the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat and ocean breeze. Delicious.

It takes some arranging, but the two of you are finally comfortable side by side, your drinks secured in the sand, Chan crossing his arms behind his head and gazing up into the night sky. You can hear Hare giggle behind you as, by the sound of it, Hyunjin falls off a beanbag.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you still decide to break it – after all, you want to get to know this delectable specimen better. “So, is this what Christmas usually looks like for you?” you ask.

Chan glances over at you and holds your gaze. Man, you really want to sink into those eyes. “The party’s a tradition,” he explains. “We always host it.”

“We?” You sit up a tiny bit, edging just a little bit closer, and from the way his body shifts towards you, you can feel that he welcomes the change. Your bare leg brushes against his and the skin-on-skin contact makes you antsy, but in a good way. This is exciting – the two of you both know where this will lead, but the timeline is yet unknown, ready to be discovered.

Chan nods. “The lifeguards. Hyunjin and I both work at this beach.”

You process the info quickly and file it away under the category “hot”. “That’s extremely cool,” is what you say, though. “Very responsible.”

The man seems to be blushing a bit and you love how his cool behaviour falls away when he’s being himself. It’s endearing. “I am a huge ocean enthusiast. I am actually currently writing my dissertation on various measures that could be taken to effectively clean the ocean, you know, to remove all of the microplastic. I’m trying to create a filter that can be produced cheaply and applied across all water temperatures.”

Your mouth actually hangs wide open at this. “So, you’re hot AND super smart?!” you blurt out. “That hardly seems fair!”

Chan smirks at this, but there is no denying that he is flattered and cajoled. “And you haven’t even seen me bench press yet,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I’d love to, though,” you say, more serious than you mean to be.

He grins widely. “Well, if you’ll have any more of those cocktails, maybe I’ll have to carry you back later.”

It’s a joke, you both know it, but you notice the exact moment where you both think about him picking you up and maybe pinning you up against a wall. The mood shifts for a moment, it feels less playful and more explicit. The silence is heavy, almost alive with an electric current.

Chan clears his throat. “You haven’t told me yet what a beautiful publicist from overseas is doing in Australia at Christmas.”

Thankful for the distraction, you tell him about the trip, about your job, and as you sip your respective drinks, you establish a shared love for TV shows, bubble tea, colourful hair, non-spicy foods. If this were a first date, it would be absolutely amazing, but sadly, this can’t be a first date, because in less than seventy-two hours, you will be on your way back, and you are severely jetlagged, having arrived only today, and this will merely be a three-day-thing, if at all. You try not to be sad about this, but it’s hard.

Chan seems to sense your distress. “Is everything all right?” he queries, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile. “Yeah. I was just thinking that I’d love to not leave in three days.” This feels like way too big a confession for this casual hook-up, but somehow, simultaneously, it also feels just right.

He seems to contemplate this, then takes your hand. “Want me to show you my lifeguard hut? You can see pretty far from up there.” It’s a distraction, but it’s working, so you nod and smile at him. Chan pulls you to your feet and just as you turn to tell Hare where you're intending to go, you can see her sitting in Hyunjin’s lap, making out with him. Shrugging, you turn back to Chan – after all, you can both access each other’s locations on your phones and Hare knows how to handle a dude. “You know,” you say boldly, “This could be us.”

Chan pulls you after him, towards the lifeguard station. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says with casualness that makes you shiver in anticipation, “it will be.”

…

Chan’s workspace is actually more elaborate than you anticipated. It’s a little hut on a raised platform so he can seek shelter from the sun while watching the ocean. The bottom of the steps is sealed for the night with a chain-link fence so unauthorized or drunk people won’t be tempted to climb up, but Chan produces a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks it so you can access the platform. You go first, but he keeps his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and you have to admit you like it.

Upon arriving at the top, you are greeted by a few solar lanterns glowing in the dark, illuminating your surroundings. You are maybe four metres up above the ground, but everything – the party goers down the beach, the music, the noise – seems miles away. The only thing you can feel is the wind and Chan’s warm hand against your side, and then there is the glorious sound of the sea. The lanterns also reveal that the chair Chan must usually spend his days in is folded up against the railing, replaced by a picknick blanket and a few throw-pillows. You turn to meet his eyes, into this half-embrace he has going on, and his hand finds your lower back again, pressing you softly to his firm chest. “Did you prepare this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Chan does have the decency to blush. “I was hoping our night would go this way, I must admit.”

Briefly, the thought that Chan must do this all the time, that this must be his move, makes an appearance, but you actually don’t really care to slut-shame the man. Good for him, he is hot and sweet AND smart, you hope that he has lots of amazing sex, but tonight, preferably with you.

You take it all in – the waves crashing against the sand, the darkness softened by the glow of the lanterns, Chan’s huge hand splayed across your lower back, his scent, his face just inches from yours. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

Chan briefly closes his eyes before opening them. There is a tiny smile on his lips. “Please,” he whispers. And so, you slowly, anticipation rising in your gut, close the distance and softly place your lips against his. Your first thought is how soft they are as you slowly move, placing your hands against his chest, then sliding them upwards, holding his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Chan tastes of beer and chewing gum, but you don’t mind, you don’t have the capacity to think as his tongue touches yours and suddenly, this isn’t slow anymore, this is heat and lust and want and need. Chan’s hands are still at your lower waist, but from the way he is pressing you against him, you can tell that he wants to touch you, he is just too chivalrous to give in to his passion. You grab hold of one of his hands and place it very deliberately against your bum cheek as you pull his lower lip between your teeth and bite. Chan groans into your mouth, his left hand joining his right on your ass, and then he is lifting you up, pressing you against the railing, thoroughly devouring your mouth all the while.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and one of his hands slides down to touch your bare thigh while he breaks the kiss, pressing his lips to your throat, nibbling, licking, sucking. A moan escapes you, and you can feel him hardening in his pants. Without waiting for him to do it, you pull your shirt off so you’re just in your bikini top, and Chan immediately shifts your weight onto the railing and his left arm so he can slide his hand under the fabric and play with your nipples. At the first slight touch, you are already whining, arching into the touch, and Chan’s chuckle is half mean, half adoring as he watches you respond to him. With your bikini top askew, you feel that the clothing ratio between the two of you is a little unfair, so you pull at his shirt, and he actually stops teasing you for long enough so you can get it off of him. Unfortunately, you don’t have long to admire his physique, because as soon as the offending garment is discarded onto the floor, Chan leans forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips, and your moan is much throatier this time, needier, and you can feel Chan shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he breathes against your chest, making you shudder as the air hits your wet nipple.

“I want you, too,” you admit, stroking your hand across his pecs and earning another groan. “Can you take me like this? Up against the railing?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. “You want me to rail you against the railing?”

You groan at the dad joke, but, for once, not in pleasure. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And speaking of right into…” He slides one hand into your shorts, going straight for your pussy and parting your lower lips with his forefinger so that any protest you had against his stupid pun dies on your lips. “Fuck, you are so wet,” he sighs. “I’d love to stretch you out with my cock.”

You cock your head to the side. “So why don’t you, then?”

At that dare, Chan crashes his lips to yours and your tongues dance wildly together as he slowly strokes your clit with his fingers, making you gasp into the kiss, before abruptly breaking away. “Fuck, let me just grab a condom real quick,” he says as he puts you down gently, placing an almost sweet kiss against your lips before approaching a bag that you didn’t notice earlier. You quickly discard your shorts and bikini bottoms; now only in your bikini top, you lean against the railing and watch the shoulders in Chan’s back work deliciously as he bends over, searches his bag and finally grabs a foil package before slipping it into the pockets of his shorts. Then he joins you again, scooping you up in his strong arms. You seize the opportunity to hold onto them and stroke them as he lifts you again and captures your lips in another scorching kiss. Your wet core presses against his naked lower abs, and Chan moans at the feeling. He lowers you just a little bit, grinding his still-clothed cock against your aching pussy as he presses kisses to your throat, your cleavage, any spot of bare skin he can reach.

“Please, Chan!” You might be begging at this point, but who cares, actually, he feels big and you want to see and especially feel if that’s the case. “I needed you inside of me like five minutes ago!” He stills, breathing heavily against your skin. “Fuck, okay,” he finally rasps after a moment of silence. “Hold on.”

You put your legs onto the railing, propping yourself up while Chan sheds his shorts and underwear, but not before grabbing the condom from his pocket. You watch as he tears open the package and rolls it over his indeed fairly large cock – it almost makes your mouth water and you promise yourself that before the night is over, it will literally make your mouth water.

Having finished his preparations, Chan steps back into the space between your legs, and you pull him closer. Your kiss is slower, more deliberate as he strokes his tongue against yours, tempting you, seducing you. And then his hard cock is pressed against you, and you shift, allowing him to press into you. Slowly, you feel yourself being filled, stretched by his girth, and you moan loudly as centimetre after centimetre disappears into your tight pussy. Unconsciously, you try to shift away from the intrusion, but Chan’s hands on your hips hold you steady, so you can do nothing but give in and take it. Chan’s tongue is back on your nipple, distracting you from the stretch by stimulating you sweetly, and the way he groans against your skin, muttering how amazing you feel, how tight your little pussy is, how good you are being for him, turns you on even further so that you use your heels to pull him closer, pull him in more quickly.

Finally, when he’s fully inside of you, he comes back up to kiss you, the movement causing him to shift inside you, making you both gasp. You are completely naked, completely out in the open, you realise, and still, this moment is intimate, like you are the only two people left in the world. It’s uncomfortable, rushed, risky – and somehow still perfect.

Chan is visibly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Can I move?” he asks, his voice hoarse against your neck as he kisses you softly, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

You cups his cheek so he’ll meet your eyes. When he does, you say, “Fuck me.”

His pupils dilate, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice before he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Before you can recover, he does it again, setting a relentless rhythm, and you are caged between his body and the railing, his thrusts an assault to your very being, but in the best way possible. His body is blazing in the cool night air, keeping you warm as he worships your body, stroking you, kissing you, licking you, fucking you. And even though your weight must take its toll on him, he doesn’t show it, doesn’t let up, pushing into you again and again, filling you, taking you. You are both trying to keep it down, so your heavy breathing can be covered by the sound of the waves, but you would not bet on it working.

He bites your shoulder, suppressing a groan. “I won’t last long, baby, you feel too good. But don’t worry, I’ll make you come as many times as you want tonight. I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you beg me to stop.” You moan, nodding, as he once again sucks a nipple into his mouth. “That’s fair,” you breathe, and Chan chuckles as he seems to again redouble his efforts, railing you against the railing as his breaths become groans rising in pitch until he bites down on your shoulder once more, stilling inside of you.

The two of you stay locked in your embrace for a moment longer, your breaths calming, before Chan tenderly kisses you as he pulls out. Scooping you up into his arms, he lays you down on the blanket and finally removes your bikini top. Drinking in your naked form in the better light provided by the lanterns, Chan strokes his hands up your sides. “There is just something about you that makes it utterly impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” he says almost wistfully, and then he is between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, nuzzling into them, licking his way up to where you need him. Finally, his tongue is on your clit, and he slides two fingers inside of you, and despite the fact that you are deliciously sore from the thorough way he has just fucked you, this is exactly what you need. His tongue writes letters against your clit, every movement unexpected and all the more exciting for it, and the steady rhythm of him finger-fucking you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. God, he looks so good on his knees for you. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, and the way he groans into your pussy makes you bite back a moan as well, biting your hand to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Your orgasm crashes over you like the waves below you, unrelenting and unavoidable, and you remove your hand, letting Chan hear your high-pitched moans.

Chan stills his hand to feel the contractions around his fingers, but continues to kitten-lick your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you still, shaking from the stimulation. Only then does he press a handful of kisses to your lower belly and move to join you on the blanket properly, propped up on his side on one elbow, pulling you close and pecking your cheek repeatedly until you turn to slowly, lazily, kiss him. His hand strokes your side again. “That was… Pretty fucking great,” he reminisces, and you can’t help but giggle at the verdict.

“It was,” you agree, dragging your nails up Chan’s veiny forearm, making him shiver. For a moment, the sound of the waves is the only thing you hear. “And you’re here for three more days?” Chan asks, a serious note in his playful tone.

You continue to feel his muscular arms as you nod. “That’s right. Why?”

Chan shrugs – awkwardly, given his current position. “Oh, nothing,” he dismisses the question. “I was just contemplating how often I can fuck you in three days.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “I’d wager that a low to medium double-digit number could be achieved, don’t you agree?”

Chan’s face mirrors your expression. “Do you want to make a bet?” You shrug. “I’d rather suck your cock.” His expression is a mixture of shyness and surprise before it takes on a devilish note. “Well, in that case,” he says, his hand sliding to cup your arse, "be my guest."

[thedivinefemoferos]

Eyes On You (Chris Brown x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're out for another night of clubbing, but this time your friends are too busy to join you. You've been on the run ever since getting screwed over by your cheating ex. Dancing seems to be the only cure for your loneliness. You've gotten used to being on your own so you didn't come to the club looking for anyone, although, a man came looking for you. And he's had his eyes on you for a while now... (Cover art picture from Pinterest credit: @noel0737)

**Warnings: Explicit descriptions of sex, course language. Y/N = Your Name

Enjoy ;)

You give your lips a quick touch of lipgloss before slipping on your black Louboutin stilettos. Tonight is just another night of lights, drinks, music and feet so sore you just have to take your heels off by the end of the night. But this was your life. The life you craved. Dancing almost every night to forget about your past troubles. Hoping to meet someone that can help you forget; someone who can show you what a real connection feels like.

Your friends were supposed to join you tonight but they all had something to do, too busy with their boyfriends or work. As much as you want it, you've managed to convince yourself that you don't have time for a relationship. Plus, since you're last relationship that ended in flames, you've been far too picky to settle with any of the men you've met. You've just never been satisfied, so you've been on the run. Night after night.

You take one last selfie before posting it on Instagram. You slip your phone into your mini purse and leave your apartment. You call your Uber, slip into the back seat and close your eyes. You start to feel a little down, upset that your girls couldn't make it. You try your best to hold back your tears so you fist your hands and take a deep breath.

Once you arrive to the club you notice the line is way longer than usual. You arch a brow as you get in line, looking around only to see tons of attractive women smiling and taking pictures with their friends. You roll your eyes and slip on your sunglasses, deciding that you'd rather not be approached by any one new tonight. You'd rather dance until your back got sore, until you've released all your pent up hurt and frustration to the rhythm of the night. You hoped there wouldn't be any weird men in the club, the kinds that don't give up even when you say you're not interested, why can't you meet a decent gentleman for once? That's just not been your type lately and you still can't get a grip on your attraction to trouble; you're down bad for the bad boys.

After what felt like hours of waiting in line, you finally come up to the security guards, hand them your I.D and let them search your bag. You can already hear amapiano music blasting in the club, your hips already urging you to shake them. Once the security check was done, you strut your way into the club, making your way to the bar.

You squint at the menu and decide to grab a peach and tequila cocktail. The bartender hands you a chilled plastic cup with a tiny straw, and you pay in return. You take a sip of your drink before turning on your heel, making your way to the dance floor.

You start to move your hips as "Commas" by Ayra Star comes on. You sway and wine your hips, sipping your cocktail and smiling at the feeling of pure bliss and freedom. You keep moving, the alcohol warming your blood when suddenly, you notice a tall and muscular man approaching you. He's not bad looking by any means but he looks far too old for you. Maybe in his late forties. The man keeps making his way toward you and you come to a stand still. Looking at his face, you can't even see his eyes through his black shades. He approaches you, a faint smile cracking on his lips.

"Hello, sorry to bother you but, Mr. Brown has taken notice of you here in this club."

You squint your eyes at the man, clearly security for some important man. Mr, Brown?

"I'm sorry? I think you have the wrong person." You swallow hard, a bit intimidated by the man.

"He made it clear that he wanted to speak to you. Only you." The man clears his throat, his lips forming a straight line.

Is Mr. Brown some rich mob leader or something? You had no ideas who he was but all you knew was that you didn't want to get involved. Or at least you shouldn't.

"Please just tell him to find interest in someone else. I'm sure he'll be fine." You try to step away from the security guard but he steps in front of you, blocking your path.

"I'm not sure he'll be fine with that at all. You see, Mr. Brown isn't used to women turning him down. Especially women like you."

You didn't know whether you should be flattered or creeped out.

"Well he'll soon forget about me once the next woman says yes to a stranger asking her to follow him." You sigh and push away from the man, finally making your way past him.

That was one weird encounter. You've been approached by a couple famous people before but you had no idea who that man was. He didn't seem famous but more like a body guard. You made your way to the bar again, taking a seat at a lounge booth to rest your legs and get some space.

After sitting in the booth for a bit and ordering another drink, the waitress comes by with a silver platter of fruit pieces dipped in chocolate, along with a glass of champagne.

"Hey girl, some scary man ordered this for you. I think you have a secret admirer." She says with a wink as she places the platter and drink in front of you. You let out a frustrated sigh, this Mr. Brown guy will not quit.

"WOW. Some guys can't take a hint." You say as you ogle at the treats in front of you.

"I know. I mean at least this is nice, though. Maybe he just wanted to treat you. Oh— the security guard also told me to give you this." The waitress hands you a little shiny gold envelope.

Once she leaves, you're quick to open the envelope, only to see a small white card with a hand written message inside.

'Hello beautiful. You sure know how to move. I was hoping I could speak with you. I can show you things you've never seen before'

- Chris

Confusion washes over you so you re-read the message while quickly popping a chocolate dipped pineapple chunk into your mouth.

Who the hell is Chris? You didn't know a Chris.. Is this not from Mr. Brown? Wait... Mr. Chris Br-

No way. No fucking way. This is impossible.

You start to panic, shoving more fruit into your mouth as you check your phone. You see a random message from an unknown Instagram user.

Unknown: Floor 20 - Room 8.

You knew that the club had hotels on the upper floors but you had no idea what to expect if you followed these directions. That was the top floor. Is this a scam? Is this even the real Chris Brown?

Your heart starts to race when you enter the elevator yet you're thankful to finally be alone.

When you exit the elevator you notice how quiet the floor is and quickly look around at the beautiful view of the city skyline right outside the window. He's in the penthouse suite. Whether it's Chris Brown or not, this man definitely has money.

You walk down the hall, noticing the same tall bodyguard waiting by a door. He whispers into his Apple Watch and then stands straight, appearing to ignore your presence.

You stand in front of the door when all of the sudden it opens, and the man you never thought you'd meet becomes visible right in front of you. He's smiling and eyeing you up and down like you're the most beautiful piece of art he's ever laid eyes upon. He's wearing light grey baggy jeans, all red Air Jordan Toro shoes and a worn out black t-shirt. You can't help but stare.

You notice his soft black hair, his familiar tattoos and how his diamond chains and Patek watch shine under the dim glow of the lights in his suite. And his cheek bones. Those damn cheek bones...

Chris chuckles, clearly enjoying the way you're checking him out. You snap out of it when you hear him laugh, the sound nearly has you catching your breath.

"Wanna come in, pretty girl?" He asks with a smile so bright you nearly squint your eyes. His smile is literally as bright as diamonds.

When he notices that you're hesitant he gently takes your hand, sending tingles through your arm and between your thighs.

"Come on in." His voice is smooth, his hand warm and his grip firm as he guides you into his suite. You can't help but stare at your hand in his, the whole situation didn't feel real.

When he stops in front his bed, your heart pounds so hard you nearly loose your balance. He brings your hand to his lips, placing a firm kiss onto your knuckles.

"Sorry to come on so strong. I'm not tryna scare you, baby girl. I'm just tryna take some of your time." He murmurs and you nearly fall to your knees.

"It's- it's fine I just- I was not expecting this."

"I wasn't expecting this either." He says, sounding only a little bit surprised. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb but you pull away. You feel the need to back away so you listen to your gut.

He sighs, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets, "I was really hoping you would join me for dinner tonight. But, you clearly don't seem too interested in spending time with me."

You raise your brows and shake your head, "You can't be serious." You nearly laugh but stop yourself when his expression falls serious, his defined cheek bones chiseled even further by shadows.

"About you? I'm very serious baby." He moves in closer, pulling you by your hips so that your front is pressed to the firm mound under his jeans. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he tilts your head up by your chin, you lock eyes with his. You notice the desire burning behind his gaze and suddenly, need washes over you like a wave as your core swirls with anticipation.

"I've had my eyes on you all night." He lets his hand fall to your shoulder, sending shivers all over your body. He doesn't break eye contact while his hand caresses your skin- you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You should know that I never ask women to come where I stay when I'm on the road. Yet here you are."

"But you ask them to meet you elsewhere, don't you?" You shock yourself with the amount of sass that laced your comment.

Chris kisses his teeth and wraps his arms around your waist but you don't fight it.

"C'mon now. Don't play with me, Y/N. I asked you up here for a reason."

"And why is that? What exactly do you want from me?" The fact that he just called you by your name completely goes over your head. Your frustration and desire to interrogate him is all you can focus on in this moment. Held inside Chris Brown's strong arms, engulfed by his intoxicating scent, blinded by the diamonds and red flags all around him. After a few moments, Chris lets go of you and your body instantly protests at the loss of contact.

"Relax baby girl. I ain't got you held hostage. You can leave if you want." Chris backs away, clearly irked by your defensiveness. You don't move, instead you cross your arms and stare him in the eyes, challenging him. Something about the nerves and excitement of this whole situation has you wanting to act bad, to push his limits.

Chris smirks, clearly content that you haven't moved.

"And you're not going to leave are you?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, letting your arms fall to your sides. He's quick to close the distance between you again, his arms wrapping around your waist, pressing you into him. He's even harder now and you have to hold back your moan as he leans into your ear. You chew the inside of your cheek as you also fight the urge to kiss him. He searches your expression, waiting for your response.

"Fine. I'll stay." You answer firmly as your mind lets all consequences fly out the window under his heated gaze. He squeezes you for a brief moment, smiling from ear to ear before he leans in, resting his cheek against your temple.

"Yeah that's right. You're not going anywhere." Chris' voice is husky and deep, with sex dripping from his tone. There is absolutely no way you could say no to him. Not with the way he's looking at you. Not with the all consuming energy buzzing between your bodies.

"But I have another question for you."

"Shoot. But hurry, I'm starving. And I bet you are too." He kisses your temple and you stiffen in his embrace,

"What makes you think I wanna be known as just another one of your groupies?" You start playing with the collar of his shirt, he doesn't stop you.

He looks down at your fingers, biting his lower lip.

"What makes you think I want you to be my groupie? I asked you to have dinner with me."

You nearly laugh in his face. "You're Chris Brown. You can have any girl you want. But you really want to spend time with me tonight? Don't play with me." You feel your heart sink as the words come out of your mouth.

"That's right. I can get any girl. But I can tell that you're not just any ordinary woman... all I want is you tonight. If you're not hungry just say so... but I've got a craving for your body baby and I'm starting to get impatient." His thumbs start to rub slow circles against your lower back while his large hands cup the top of your bum, causing you to melt into his embrace, pressing yourself closer to him. He smells divine. Like warm cinnamon sugar.

"Is this what you say to all the random women you're trying to fuck?"

"Look." Chris grits his teeth, but his touch remains soft. "You're not random. I've had my eye on you for a while now. Your socials. You're active. You've got a large following. Bet you've got tons of men in your dms, am I right?" Your eyes widen, it's like everything he says causes your heart to race even faster. How had you not noticed that Chris Brown was lurking on your socials?

"You've been watching me?" You swallow, looking into his eyes. As shocked as you are, you can't help but feel proud of yourself. You caught Chris Brown's attention. It wasn't intentional but it's definitely something you're not mad about. It's the consequences of falling for him that has your head spinning.

"Yeah. I have. I know it's a lot but if I'm serious about someone I gotta know what they're all about before I make a move. Ya know? So tell me, you seeing anyone, pretty girl?"

You weren't. But you really didn't want to come off as easy in this situation.

"That's none of your business." You say and he rolls his eyes.

"Well if you do got a man back home, you don't seem too eager to get back to him." He leans in, smiles slightly and then looks at your lips, meanwhile his lips are just inches away from yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat to try and maintain your composure.

"Chris. I don't think I want to get involved- I mean, you don't have the most reputable past." You shrug out of his embrace and just as you turn around, he's pressed up behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah? And how 'bout you? You've been Ms. Little perfect? You've stayed out of the headlines? Or how about the only fans you've kept so secret, hm? Didn't want just anyone to see all this?" He lets his hands smooth over your torso until they reach the tops of your thighs. You press your bum against him and he grunts. "Why'd you stop posting there? Your man too controlling? That why you left him?"

Your eyes widen as anger burns through your chest; he knows about your past and most recent relationships too. Fuck. You quickly turn around to face him. He may have caught onto you and he may know about your not so innocent past, but you still don't want to get hurt. The fact that he's dug deep into your socials is absolutely ridiculous but given he's such a famous person, you understand that he absolutely does need to be careful.

"I don't need to tell you anything and I'm not going to." You huff, squinting at him before he shrugs and smirks at you.

"Fine. Your past is none of my business. But, I was really hoping to get to know you. If you'll let me. Let me show you what I had planned for you tonight."

You stood there speechless.

You've always been confident but knowing that you've caught Chris' attention has you more shocked than anything. And you've been with enough D-list celebrities to know that the dick is not worth the heart break. But an A-List celebrity? Someone you've only vibed with from a distance. Someone you've seen in concert far too many times to count. You don't want to be a groupie but what about his girl? Is that what he wants? How could he want something that serious with you when you barely know each other. You're just an up and coming model on Instagram. What does he even mean by being serious about you?

"How can I trust you?" That's all you can manage to ask after trying to process the most shocking words you've ever heard. Chris furrows his brows and pulls away from you with a sigh. You arch a brow, watching as he runs a hand over his hair.

"I know I have a bad reputation, but you do too. I know you've heard a lot of things about me but a lot of it is bullshit. I've even heard rumours about you but I don't judge. I wanna show you who I really am." He starts to grit his teeth and his tone is laced with a bit of aggression. Your heart beats hard and you hate to admit it but his determination has your pussy dripping.

Chris walks so close to you that you end up falling onto the bed, managing to stay sitting up. He looks down at you while standing in between your legs.

"And you're right, I have women falling all over me but, if I'm into someone, well, then it's only them. I promise it's only been you, girl. I've been waiting to take my chance. And," he chuckles, "When I see a woman like you, shaking an ass like that, well, I can't help it, I just gotta have it. I gotta have you."

You stare up at Chris in awe, not expecting to be so charmed by his way with words. How could they sound even sweeter in person, when he's speaking seductive words rather than singing them. You couldn't even find the words to say, being too distracted by thoughts of lust, pooling like honey between your thighs.

Chris brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, cupping the side of your cheek while looking deep into your eyes.

"I promise you, Y/N, my intentions are good, baby girl. You've been on my mind for weeks. Spend the night with me. Let me show you what you've been missing."

As each word falls from his lips, you feel a pull toward him and it quickly becomes overwhelming. He's already got you hooked and it's been less than thirty minutes with the man. You wish he'd stop calling you by your name. You should probably leave before things get out of control.

"Chris I-" Suddenly he's slipped his hand around the back of your neck and you've got your fingers hooked in his belt loops.  "I'd love to spend the night with you but-"

"But what? You don't think I'm the cure to all your loneliness, baby? What do you want? I know you want me to eat that pretty pussy?" You let out the moan that's been bubbling up in your throat this entire time and instead of pulling him closer, you get up and push him back by his shoulders. He stumbles backward, clearly surprised by your actions, but not upset by them.

"You think I'm easy? I'll tell you something, Mr. Brown. You can't always get what you want. And yeah sure, I'd love to stay the night but who says you'll be here in the morning? Fuck off with all the lies about wanting me and needing me and shit. Yeah, okay. You expect me to believe you?" You should be leaving as you cuss him out but your feet stay in place. Chris' eyes darken as he pushes himself off the wall. His pupils dilate as you speak, but anger is not the vibe you get at all. Is he turned on by your honesty? By your blunt disapproval of him?

"Okay, okay, I got you. You're upset. Been hurt too many times. You don't trust me, I get it." He holds both of your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles as he looks into your eyes.

"So tell me, why haven't you left yet?" He pulls you closer, still solid as a rock, his expression heated with frustration.

"Because I'm waiting for you to  tell me why you really called me up here." You grit, gripping his shoulders as he starts to rub his hard dick against your core. Your body starts pulsing with desire just from feeling the sheer size of him under his jeans.

"I've done enough talking, baby. How about I show you?"

Chris is quick to grip your ass, catching you off guard. You moan deep in your throat as he lifts one of your legs up, his hand on your outer thigh. Your face is so close to his neck; he smells like sweet rum and spiced cologne. At this moment you just really wish you could taste his soft lips. You look at his lips, the craving to taste him only growing stronger.

"All you gotta say is yes, Y/N." He tilts your head up again, locking eyes with you before his eyes fall to your lips.

"Y-Yes." You barely have time to prepare yourself for what came next. Chris presses his lips against yours, his hands quick to grip your ass tightly as he lifts you up. He picks you up swiftly, your legs and arms wrap around him. You kiss him back, moaning softly at the way his lips work yours so tenderly, with so much passion yet so much composure. You run your fingers through his short hair, earning a deep groan from him. He breaks the kiss by pulling your hair back and his lips trail warm kisses along the curve of your neck.

Your eyes close and you grip his shoulders. You can't help but grind your hips against him, feeling his thick length press against your wet, aching pussy.

"Fuck, Y/N." Chris groans as he throws you onto the bed. You look into his eyes, challenging him once again as you spread your legs. Your short skirt gathers around your waist, leaving nothing to his imagination. He gazes at your pussy, thick lips sucking in the lace of your panties, arousal dripping like bailey's; he can't help but lick his lips.

"Goddamn baby girl. I promise I'm gonna lick every inch of your body tonight." Chris bites his lip as he crawls onto you. You lay back as he hovers over you, looking down at you, his chains hanging close to your neck, his breathing heavy.

"Y/N, you know I don't play games. I promise I've only had my eyes on you. It's only been you on my mind, for weeks." He presses his hips into you, rolling himself against you so deliciously that you're moaning loud. His hand wraps around your neck while his other undoes your bralette top.

When his hand  grips tighter around your neck you arch your back, "Chris! Please, fuck- I need you." You can't help but beg, your pussy has been throbbing for his touch ever since you've stepped into his room.

Chris gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, he tosses it to the floor. An ache swirls low inside your tummy from just watching him, feeling the heat of his gaze on your body.

He lifts your legs up, slowly pulling your panties off of you, only to shove them into his back pocket. You raise your brows and bite your lip, hiding the smile that creeps up on you.

"Hm, I like hearing you beg for my cock. You done fighting me? You know that all I wanna do is make you feel good, baby." He spreads your legs open while they're straight, running his lips and tongue along your inner leg until he's on his knees at the edge of the bed. He kisses your inner thigh and you start to shake, his mustache tickling your skin.

"I-I'm done fighting. Yes- please-" You sound so desperate, so needy, your voice barely a whisper.

"Hmmm, you want this don't you?"

You moan in response as he licks and sucks the part where your thigh meets your hip, so close to the heat between your legs. You arch your back, your hands rushing to grab his head.

"You smell so good, Y/N." He's practically drooling as he brings his fingers to your pussy, spreading your folds gently.

"Mmmm, and you're soaking wet." He slips two of his fingers inside of you and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pumps his long fingers inside of you. You groan in pleasure, louder than you intended, your head spinning as warmth gushes out of you with every pump of his fingers. Chris groans in approval as he watches you rolling your hips against his hand for just a few seconds before he leans in, wrapping his lips around your clit.

"Oh, fuck!" You grip his bed sheets, moaning constantly as he sucks and licks your clit.

"Just like that. Don't stop. Fuuckkkk..." You throw your head back as he starts licking your clit fast, clearly eager to get you there but right when you're about to lose control, Chris feels your pussy tighten around his fingers. He pulls out of you and stops licking, and you gasp in protest.

Your jaw drops as you watch him take his fingers to his lips, licking them while staring into your eyes.

"You m-motherfucker." Your breathing is heavy, your body hot and shaking with need.

Chris moans around the taste of your arousal, "Careful Y/N. I'm trying my best to take my time. I know you're close. Imma take care of you, don't worry..."

You've got him rushing. Eager to get inside of you, to continue to dominate you just like he has been since you took his hand.

"Fuck me Chris." When the command slips from your lips, a wicked smirk pulls at his mouth and you both lock eyes. He's quick to pull his shirt over his head and undo his jeans as you lean forward, dipping your finger tips under his waist band. You pull his jeans and boxers down with one swift tug.

You choke on the words that struggle to come to mind now that his bare length looms before you. Chris grabs your wrist, guiding you to wrap your hand around the base of him. He's long, his shaft curving slightly at the tip, one long thick vein lining his smooth shaft; you feel him pulsing in your palm.

"C'mon baby. As much as I love how you're looking at me, I need to feel that pretty mouth around me." He cups your chin, rubbing your button lip with his thumb and you look up into his eyes as you move your head forward. Chris bites his lower lip, his eyelids drifting slightly closed as your lips wrap around the head of his cock.

He sucks in a deep breath as you take him inside your mouth, sucking his cock nice and slow. You try to hide the fact that the size of his cock nearly has you gagging, but he's taking it easy on you, allowing you to suck at your own pace. He runs his fingers through your hair as you move your mouth up and down his length.

"Fuck- that's good. Look at me baby." He grips the hair at the back of your head, and you moan around his cock. His hips jerk forward, causing your eyes to shoot up and look up at him as you suck. He's breathing heavy, sweat already dripping from his neck and down his tattooed chest.

You decide to take him in as deep down your throat as you can, causing his head to fall back and his grip on your hair to tighten. The hurt feels so good that you continue to moan around him, your throat constricting around his shaft. Chris groans deeply, biting his lip hard as he watches you.

"Shit baby girl- didn't expect that." He whispers, clearly holding back the urge to fuck your throat as he hesitantly pulls himself out of your mouth. You catch your breath, looking up at him in awe as all of your inhibitions melt away. You're both intoxicated by the taste of eachother, determined to claim eachother's bodies.

Chris takes your chin in his hand and wipes the corner of your mouth gently before placing a gently kiss on your lips.

"Lay back baby." His voice is husky, his command sending shivers all over you, his tone lush and comforting like a blanket on a cold night.

You do as your told and he follows you, crawling between your thighs.

"Open up for me, pretty girl, show me that pussy again." Now, nothing  about his tone is pretty at all. His eyes are glued to your body while your eyes are glued to his cock. You lift your legs straight and rest your calves on his shoulders.

Chris wraps his hands around your ankles before removing your heels, "You're feet must be sore." And he was right.

He tosses your heels elsewhere before pushing on your legs, pushing them all the way back until he's hovering over you, your legs framing his face, the tip of his cock prods at your entrance. He's got you bent in half, completely at his will.

With your legs up in the air and his forearms framing your head, Chris pumps his hips forward ever so slightly and you hiss at the stretch as his cock slowly slides into you. He slowly sinks himself into you, groaning in pleasure as your pussy wraps around him perfectly.

"That's it, take it baby." He huffs, driving himself all the way into your pussy until you can nearly feel him in your stomach.

The pressure is nearly suffocating, the stretch in your pussy and at your thighs feels so good you can't help but dig your nails into the skin of his back. His muscles ripple under your touch while he starts to move, thrusting slowly, locking eyes with you.

"Chris, fuck daddy!" What turned into the softest moan ended with a scream as the nickname suddenly drives Chris mad. He crashes his lips onto yours as he pummels into you. His pace quick, his thrusts strong, every stroke hitting your g-spot just right.

"Fuck- baby girl you got it. You feel so good...." Chris seems to be at a loss of words. He closes his eyes, sweat beads from his head while he planks over you, his cock strokes your walls so deliciously that your eyes roll back.

"You're close baby. Don't hold back. Give it to me." Hearing his lush tone has you squeezing around him instantly, your impending orgasm explodes through you, shaking you to your core. Tears stream from the corner of your eyes as intense pleasure sets your every nerve on fire.

"Damn, baby girl! Fucking squirt on my cock."

You've been so caught up in the bliss of your climax that you hadn't noticed the wetness at the point where your bodies connected. Chris slows down his thrusts to ease you down from your high. You can barely form a sentence in your mind, the only thing coming from your lips are moans, hums and groans that sound like music to Chris' ears.

Chris brings your legs down and you instinctively wrap them around his waist.

"Didn't know a pretty girl like you could make such a mess." He murmurs as he continues to pump his hips, his quick and short strokes soon stoking another fire deep inside you.

"I'll have it cleaned up while we shower baby. I-I'm about to-"

Chris grabs a handful of one of your breasts, his lips press against yours as his strokes quicken and gain more force. He's close, unprotected inside you, his tongue dancing with yours.

You feel his hips pull up but you tighten your legs around him, you're protected, and you need him inside you. He breaks the kiss, his eyes struggling to stay open as he fucks you.

"Y/N I'm- shit!" He loses himself mid sentence as his warm release fills your sore pussy.

Chris settles himself between your legs, making sure not to put his full pressure onto you. You both search eachother's eyes, wondering just exactly how you got in this... situation.

"I'm gonna make you mine, Y/N." Chris lifts you up as he stands up onto his feet, keeping himself inside you as he carries you to his ensuite bathroom. It almost feels shameful because you already want to be his. You've already fallen under his spell.

"First let's shower and then let me get you ready for dinner. I'm still a gentleman after all."

You snicker as he sits you down on a bench inside the shower. You're exhausted, your body limp yet still buzzing from the aftermath of your orgasm. The best orgasm you've ever had in your life, in fact. But you wouldn't confess that to Chris just yet.

You find yourself back in the present moment, warm water trickling around your skin, large hands rubbing your breasts with the sweetest smelling soap.

"Will you, baby?"

You open your eyes when Chris speaks, his eyes searching your tired ones.

"Will you be mine? Let me win you over?"

You smile, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck.

"You already have." You admit, letting your fingers skim over the taught skin of his ass. Chris picks you up under the shower water, gripping your ass as you wrap your legs around him once again, his lips meet yours in a sweet and restrained kiss.

"You better be here when I wake up." He murmurs, and your heart nearly breaks.

"I'm staying. Unless dinner doesn't go well."

"It'll most likely end with you on the desert menu. I've already had a taste but I need more."

You giggle, kissing his cheek before noticing the way he's looking at you. You see the affection in his eyes and the only thing you can wonder is, will you ever get enough?

Authors note: Hey beauties! Tell me what you think! DM me your fanfic requests! ❤️‍🔥

[ummmlife]

Because you asked for it!!! literally no one ever asked for this

here are my...

Nanami Kento headcanons

Warnings!; none... maybe mention of nsfw?

My man here is fucking blind, like, he needs glasses to read. He also has prescription sunglasses, and has more than those ugly glasses he wears.

Started buying Rolex watches when he worked as a salaryman. He simply saw a man with a fancy watch one day and said "Oh, I want one of those".

Although he's a foodie, he often skips his meals, not intentionally though.

Has a great collection of alcohol in his home, that's not a surprise for anyone, yeah. But Nanami also owns a small barista kit to make cocktails.

He's not a virgin but the last time he had sex with someone was a month before leaving his salaryman job. Poor man.

Calling him "daddy" won't have any effect in him. He will probably be confused if you call him "daddy" like ??? why are you calling him father?

Now, if you call him "husband" or dirty talk to him like a good housewife (even if you're not a woman), gurl, he'll go feral.

Also, Nanami really wants to get married. The whole idea of being a family man and have his own spouse and children makes him happy.

He's cancer, duh.

Cry baby, also.

Nanami usually bottles up all his emotions to simply lay down on his bed at night and cry himself to sleep.

Unless you are not his partner, you won't see his clingy side. Nanami is needy, he needs to give and receive a lot of love.

He's the kind of man that sleeps all curled up with his partner, the more physical contact there is, the better.

Don't forget that he's a millennial. Nanami can't start his day without a coffee.

Yeah, he likes Harry Potter and shit.

His Instagram is: 8 post, 6 of them are about food.

He's more active on twitter tho, but not like you think. He uses twitter as his second newspaper.

Nanami seems like a very correct man who listens to classical music all the time, but we all know he's an emo at heart. But he also enjoys bossa nova a lot.

Since his grandpa is danish, he knows like 10 words in danish.

He's not blond, he started dying his hair when he was recruited into jujutsu high. Surprisingly, his hair is in a very healthy state.

Yeah, he knows how to dye hair.

Nanami had a lot of intrusive thoughts, some of those makes him very afraid of his own mind.

Only watch weird philosophical movies from unknown european directors... Unless you find him on a sunday's night watching the most cheesy romcom you've ever heard about.

He also reads manga, but occasionally. Probably likes something like Golden Kamuy or Vagabond.

His favorite sport is baseball.

He once tried pilates (Gojo's recommendation)... never more.

Loves edging himself when he has to relieve stress

Has a lot of plants, all in perfect health.

If his partner gets pregnant, he will ask to try breastmilk... Why? I dunno, he's probably curious.

His favorite position is missionary, boring af, but he likes to see his partner's face when they cum.

If he's in a relationship, don't expect him to jerk off. Even when he was single didn't jerk off unless he was incredibly horny, the plus of a relationship is that he will ask his partner to make love together to ease his human needs.

Likes cats more than dogs for pets, but he'll definitely have fishes or a turtle if he can.

Very sensitive, with everything in general. Textures, noises, flavors. If there's something that overstimulates his senses, he will have a bad day.

That's why he buys one specific brand of condoms and also 99% cotton everything that has fabric on it.

Very clean for the same reasons, he can't stand visual noise.

Nanami also cleans his home spiritually. Does he believes in that? Not necessarily, but it feels his home cleaner.

Loves being kissed on his forehead and jaw.

Also likes the sensation of being protected, he's always protecting people but he likes also to feel safe and cared.

If you ask him to wear a skirt, with a bit of struggle, will agree.

Has never tried anything sexual like bdsm or something like that. Just the basic 4 positions of sex.

Nanami is just a sweet guy who only shows his cute side when he's comfortable enough with his loved one.

That's all for now!

[boredzillenial]

Day 23: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

You come home to find a stranger by your pool (Jack Jackson).

Themes: DEAD DOVE -DNE, bratty f!reader, Dirty Talk, some degradation, momentary choking and hair pulling, Begging, CNC (maybe? Idk man I tried), refraction period who, 69 (Jack on top), cum play, pinv, creampie

W.C: 2435 words

A.N: This is a safe place to explore kink and erotica as writers and readers, if you don’t like one of the above themes don’t read it, this is my first attempt at hitting all three themes for one day! My first experience with CNC as well so apologies if it isn’t the best 😅 Hope y’all like it 😘 Big thank you to @melodygatesauthor and @guruan-isnt-here for grammar and vibe checking this one!

See you soon ;)

You stare down at the final line of chat on your screen. You’d listed out your age, location, hard and soft limits. Now you wait… Finding someone online for CNC was always a toss up but your chat with this guy felt different somehow. Though your shitty workday hangs over you like a dark cloud your core is already dampening at the thought of this evening. You make your way through your darkened home until you’re stepping out sun drenched back deck. The light glimmering off of the pool causing you to squint. You take a deep breath, finally closing your eyes as you enjoy the warmth of the sun on your skin until you hear the clinking of ice in a glass. You jump and whip around to see the source of the noise,

“Who the hell are you?” You snap, your aggravating work day eroded your already limited patience. While didn’t know who had answered your ad this was not the man you’d expected. The figure lounging across your pool chair furrows his brow.

He slowly sits up and lowers his sunglasses to take you in, “I’m who you’ve been chattin’ with. Name’s Jack.” He twangs out.

“Horse shit.” You spit.

“Well that’s not very nice…” He stands up, taking a sip from his umbrella’d cocktail as he makes his way toward you. Arousal begins to mix with your frustration at his strange response. Usually you prefer men much bigger than yourself for scenes like this, it helps keep you in the moment, but this guy is at least a couple inches shorter than you.

“I thought you’d be someone strong, powerful, tall...” Your voice lowers as you smirk, dragging your gaze slowly over him. “But you? How’d you even get in?”

“I’ve got my ways sweetheart.” The stranger shrugs , “figured I’d make myself comfortable.” He grins, two gold teeth shimmering in his smile. “Care for a swim?” He motions toward the pool, robe fluttering in the California breeze showing his form in a rather small pair of pink briefs that don’t leave anything to the imagination. He’s that big while flaccid?

“I think I’ll take some time to decompress from work…” you turn and make your way into the house. The darkness temporarily blinding you as you make your way further, “Shit,” You hiss as you slowly make your way toward the kitchen.

Suddenly there are two strong hands slamming into your shoulders and pinning your back against the wall. “Now sweetheart, you can’t hold my height against me. I’m very good at my job.” His smirk and gravely voice grate against your nerves.

“If you had really read through the request you must know I’m anything but sweet…” your voice drops into a low taunting tone as you lean forward. “I don’t think this is gonna -“

His hand around your throat finishes your sentence for you as he holds you still. “Those ain’t the magic words.” He smirks “Why don’t you make your way into the bedroom and we can start.” He lets you go and steps aside, motioning down the hall.

“Pft.” You huff, feigning boredom with his momentary dominance. Deciding you really want to test his resolve you forge on, “I doubt you can -“ once again he cuts you off, this time with an iron grip in your hair at the nape of your neck as he drags you toward the bedroom.

“You’re one of those huh? Can’t just listen the first time.” He tuts as you stumble to keep up, wincing and hissing at the pain prickling your scalp. He grabs your arm and throws you onto the bed. “Just so I know you’re not some girl who’s in over her head… let me hear you say your safe-word…” he crosses his arms and stands at the edge of the bed.

You level your gaze with his, adrenaline sparking your stubbornness “Red…” you purr.

“Not a creative one are ya.” He chuckles. “Now once I start, I ain’t stopping till I hear that word…”

“That word is for you too, in case you can’t handle it.” You smirk.

The wicked grin that answers you sends lightening to your core. “Oh I’m gonna enjoy this.” He pulls down the pink briefs slowly, his thick member already hard, red and angry. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as your mouth watered at the sight of him. “Like what you see?” He smirks as he spits in his hand and slowly began to work himself infront of you.

“Can’t say I don’t.” You answer, stubbornness flaring again and keeping you from giving him a simple yes.

“Good, cause that’s all you get to do right now.” His dark tone fills the room as he continues to work himself. Hips slowly canting forward on a particularly long stroke had you biting your lip. “Little slut hasn’t earned all of this…” he growls.

You’re ashamed at how quickly you’re losing your nerve. The pulse of his cock and the sounds coming from him make your core ache and clench around nothing. You lean back on the bed, your eyes never leaving his length as your hand dips under your waistband. “Nope.” He growls, lunging forward and yanking your wrist to pin it on the bed. “Bad girl.” He pulls you forward till your knees landed on the carpet. “Hands behind your back.”

“Make m-“ your smirk is cut off as he pinches your cheeks together.

“Oh I intend to.” He pulls a pair of cuffs out of the pocket of his silk robe. He pulls your arms behind you at an awkward angle and tightens them down on your wrists.

“They’re too tight.” You growl.

He moves to stand infront of you, cock still red and now weeping as it bounces just a few inches from your face. “Ask me if I care sweetheart, now open.”

You glare at him but did as he says, opening your mouth just wide enough and sticking your tongue out.

“Stay just like that.” He murmurs as he begins working himself again, slowly coming closer and closer but not enough to touch.

He threw his head back and groaned as his hips began rolling forward. You could feel the thin fabric of your underwear soaking as he stood over you. So close but not quite there. Raising a brow you went to lean forward, to just lick the tip. But his hand came down on your forehead to keep you in place “Think I’m stupid?” He chuckled as he continues to rut into his fist. “Think you earned this cum?”

You nod opening your mouth wider. His breathy laugh has you nearly groaning, just a few more thrusts and you’re sure he’d be coming right down your throat. His hand on your head shakes as he nears his release; one, two, three more thrusts and then- ropes and ropes of cum splatter across your chest and shirt. “What the fuck.” You hiss.

“Oh you definitely didn’t earn it yet. I just wanted to ruin that pretty little blouse of yours.” He smirks, running his fingers down and swirling his spend across your skin. A snarl is your only warning as his other hand grabs onto the hem of your deep v-necked collar and yanks, ripping and exposing your bare chest underneath. “I’m gonna have fun painting you with my cum.” He whispers, hauling you up by your arm and throwing you back onto the bed. “You won’t need these.” He yanks your pants and thong down in one stroke, exposing your soaked folds. “So wet already.” He lightly strokes a finger through your heat and swirls around your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you.

His eyes sparkle as a wicked idea swirls in his mind. He presses your legs wide and leaned in, rubbing his fat tip up and down your folds. Your slickness and his cum still beading out of it mixing together made him nearly lose his control. It took everything in him not to slam into you. He nearly does till he looks up and notices how much you were enjoying the sensation. A little too much for his liking. He smirks, runs his tip up to your clit and rubs slowly over it. You whimper and groan as your hips began to roll in time with his. Your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on drawing as much pleasure as you can.

He huffs and slips the tip of his cock down further, barely pressing into your heat. Christ you need more, you buck your hips up stealing you a momentary inch of him. “Bad girl.” He tuts, slipping out of your folds and down, pressing his slick tip against your tight ring of muscle. Your eyes shoot open in a panic and you try to sit up. He relishes the fear in your eyes as he leans forward, his face just inches from yours “Do that again and I’m fucking this first… and you better hope that cunt is slick enough to drip down for your tight little ass.”

You gulp and nod. “You gonna behave?” He asks as he angles his tip up and slides it between your folds. You bite your lip to stifle your groan and nod again. “Prove it.” He shuffles over and cages your head with a knee on either side, leaning forward and angling is cock over your face, “Open.”

You open wide, hungrily as the mixture of his smell and yours fills your senses. He slowly glides his soaked tip over your tongue and groans, “Such an eager little slut.” He chuckles, rolling his hips slowly as his hand cups your breast and pinches your nipple lightly.

You gasp and he takes that chance to thrust deeper into your mouth. The warmth and softness of your tongue pull moans from him and eat away at his resolve. “Taking it so well, you want my cock down your throat?” You nod as best you can and hum your response. “Good.” He lays over you, his length nearly hitting the back of your throat and stretching your lips across him. He begins thrusting into your mouth and your about to cry out for him to slow down when a shot of warmth and pressure glides across your bud.

Your cry is muffled around his girth as he laps at your clit with his tongue. Long languid strokes across your bud send your mind reeling as you arch up and take him deeper down your throat. “Only takes a couple licks to swallow my cock huh?” His breath fanning across your needy core sent you whimpering. “Don’t worry, your mouth feels so good I’ll reward ya.”

His hips set a fast pace as he lapped at your clit. In just a few strokes of his tongue you came undone. Your cunt fluttering around nothing as you muffled cries fill the room. You were so ready to swallow all that he was about to give you. A few more hard thrusts and - he pulls out of your mouth with a pop and ruts against your chest, spilling new ropes of cum to meet his earlier spend. “Still, haven’t earned, that yet.” He groans between thrusts. His hips slow and he sits up, adjusting so he can see the absolute mess covering your tits and his belly.

He lets out a dark chuckle as he wipes his cum off his belly and turns to you. You’re hunger quelled for a moment from your orgasm as you look up at him lazily. “You want it?” He looks down as the cum on his hand then back to your lips. You nod, closing your eyes and opening your mouth. You stick your tongue out and wait for the taste of him to hit your palette. You jolt as he presses his fingers deep into your aching core. “Think I want it here instead.” His dark smirk ignites your frustration anew.

“Fucking tease.” You hiss.

“You think so?” He brings his hand up and gathers the ropes of cum from your chest. “Oh I can show you tease.” With one hand full of cum he uses the other to lift your legs until your ankles were nearly by your ears. You groan against the uncomfortable position as your weight presses into your shoulders and neck. You pitifully try to use your still restrained arms to get more comfortable, your core tensing as you try to balance.

Ass up and everything laid bare for him, he shifts behind you. Your lower back presses against his chest. He pulls your folds open with his clean hand and you gasp at the sensation of him dripping cum right into your aching heat. Your legs jerk but he manages to keep them in place as he uses a single finger to work his cum into you. Just enough sensation for you to feel it but not enough to satisfy.

“Please.” The word slips out before you can stop it. His motions halt, he slowly meets your gaze with a smirk.

“What was that? Little slut actually beggin’ now?” His dark tone adds to your aching frustration. “Do it again.”

Your desperation cracks your resolve as your back begins to ache. “Please… need more…”

“That wasn’t so hard was it? Though you should be more specific.” His smirk grows to a wicked grin as he stands over you and sinks his girth into your slick channel in one thrust. You cry out at the sudden stretch, pain and pleasure swirling as his cum leaks around the sides of him. “Would you look at that. Gotta fill you up some more.” He grunts as he begins to pound into you.

Cries turn to whimpers as you finally begin to adjust to him. His cock hitting that spot deep inside, sending you over the edge. His groans join your cries as you tighten around him, “Just like that.” He bites out and fucks you harder. “Take this fucking cock.” He slams into you drawing out your orgasm. With a final thrust he leans into you, pressing you further into the bed and painting your walls white.

After a moment he slowly lowers you till your back finally rests against the bed. Instinctively you let out a contented sigh as you felt the aftermath slowly leak from your relaxed sex. Jack moves off the bed to admire his work, tutting as the wet spot below you grows. “Gonna have to try again.” He grins. “Maybe a different hole will hold it better.”

————-

Taglist: @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Something New

Pairing: Josh Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: Something blue, something borrowed, and something new.

Warnings: Alcohol, implications of sex, wedding Josh

Word Count: 3.8k

Weddings. Where to even begin? A celebration of love or an awkward party where no one truly knows each other yet everyone in attendance has the same thought they wont speak- the bride and groom are fucking tonight; and everyone, even their own parents, know.

As a single girl, you’d always dreaded weddings and as you’ve gotten older, you’ve been a guest at countless weddings now, always bringing a friend as a plus one, or no plus one for that matter. Though you always ended up having fun, you still couldn't help but feel just a bit down as you were surrounded by love and happy couples, longing to experience love for yourself. 

This wedding was no different. 

One of your close friends from high school was getting married and invited you. She gave you a plus one but you decided to go alone. You didn’t have anyone you were dating or anyone to go with. Besides, all your friends would be at the wedding or in it. You anticipated that it could get a little lonely or awkward at times with all of them in relationships, but overall you were looking forward to it and you were happy to go.

And you didn’t know it then, but you were so glad you did. 

The ceremony was beautiful. The venue and decorations were absolutely breathtaking. The color scheme was perfect. The flowers were gorgeous. 

You sat with your friends during the ceremony as the couple exchanged vows and rings. You briefly looked around to see people of all ages, some who you knew, and others who you didn't, smiling and crying as the ceremony went on. The room truly was filled with love.

The events of the night continued and as cocktail hour began, you were standing with a group of your friends with a glass of white wine in your hand. 

You chatted casually with your friends and reunited with people you hadn’t seen in a while over the years- mostly just catching up with what everyone was up to and commenting on the wedding so far. 

The conversations you were once part of faded to background noise as the sight of someone caught your eye.

He was wearing a dark brown suit with a crisp white turtleneck underneath. His suit had a triangle accent on the chest and he paired it with white sneakers. Sneakers at a wedding. His hair was shaved on the sides of his head with honey brown curls leading from the top of his head down to the back. He had a dark mustache and just a patch of hair on his chin.

Handsome.

He was walking and talking with a few other people. Two tall guys- one of which had black hair that was pulled back, and the other with long hair and sunglasses in a red suit with a petite, curly haired girl on his arm. 

He was also accompanied by another man with long hair, dressed in all black, resting his hand on the back of a shorter woman with darker features, in a powder blue dress, walking alongside her and whispering in her ear.

Your head turned and your eyes followed them as they walked to the bar.

As the group of them disappeared into a sea of wedding guests, you snapped yourself back to reality and continued your conversations with the people around you.

After some time, people began clearing out and heading to their seats for dinner. You and your friends were about to do the same when you saw him again.

An older couple moved out of the way, creating just enough space for your eyes to meet his across the room. 

Quickly, you looked away, hoping he didn’t catch you. And you were certain he was hoping the same as you headed in the opposite direction, to your table with your friends.

The night continued as the wedding party and married couple made their grand entrances and had their first dance. 

Speeches were given and the bride thanked all the guests, including your friend group- which resulted in every head turning towards your table.

She held up her glass in your direction and giggled, “Finally, to my longest and dearest friends, thank you for telling me to text him back.”

The room bubbled with laughter as everyone held their glasses up.

As your glass was raised, you looked around the room briefly. Everyone had their eyes on the bride. Everyone except you and him.

He was a straight shot across the empty dance floor. 

This time when your eyes met his, you didn’t look away. This time, you smiled.

He smirked, revealing a tiny dimple in his left cheek. He raised his champagne glass to his lips to take a sip, never breaking eye contact with you.

Cute.

After dinner, you headed to the bar to get a fresh drink. It was your go-to wedding drink, a glass of white wine. As the bartender turned around to pour it, you saw a figure approach the bar next to you.

“White wine? Smart choice.” 

You turned your head to see where the voice had come from. It was him. Handsome. Cute. And now, right in front of you.

You let out a small laugh and smiled, “And what might you be getting?” you asked.

The bartender handed you your glass and he ordered, “Tequila Soda with lime, please,” he said, placing a few singles in the tip jar before turning his attention to you once more.

“Tequila? Brave,” you said. 

“I’m pacing myself,” he replied matter of factly, “After this, it’s all water and beer,”

“Mmm, good plan.”

“Josh,” he said, extending his hand out to you.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Josh,” you replied as you took his hand in yours.

The bartender handed him his drink and he thanked her.

“Well, Josh, enjoy your drink. Pace yourself,” you flirted as you got up out of the bar stool and headed back to your table.

You turned your head around to catch another glimpse of him as you walked away.

He was still at the bar stool you left him in. His head was down and he was smiling to himself and shaking his head. 

He looked back up and his smile dropped to a look of awe as his eyes met yours again. 

You gave him a smile, turned your head back around, and continued walking across the dance floor, and back to your friends. 

Charming.

After a bit of dancing and more drinking, you went to the bathroom to freshen up.

As you exited the stall, you saw the petite curly haired girl and the girl in the powder blue dress from earlier, fixing their makeup in the mirror. You stood at the sink next to them, washed your hands, and fixed your own makeup. 

“I’m gonna go smoke with Sam for a little bit, I’ll meet up with you later,” the curly haired one said to the shorter one, who only replied with a mumble as she was applying lip liner. 

She finished what she was doing and looked over at you, curiously. 

She was beautiful. Effortlessly pretty. She had dark olive skin and long black hair that fell perfectly into loose curls.

“You know Josh?” she asked casually. 

“Josh? Yeah, we uh, talked a little… at the bar,” you answered.

“I saw. He’s the best- really sweet. He’s my boyfriend’s brother,” she replied.

You nodded.

She raised her eyebrows and tucked her make up back into her purse, “He’s single if you’re wondering.”

“Oh, I, uh, I wasn’t-” 

“Mhm,” she said as she spun around on her foot and exited the bathroom.

You took a moment to replay her words in your head and smiled to yourself.

Single.

As the night continued, you found yourself on the outskirts of the dance floor, dancing, talking, and laughing with friends. 

Josh caught your eye a few times. 

He was dancing and being silly with his group.

The tall one with long hair and the curly haired girl had taken their shoes off; a little weird but they had that kind of vibe. The other tall one with darker hair was dancing and talking with a blonde you’d never seen before. And the one who you just learned was his brother had his hands all over the dark haired girl you’d met in the bathroom.

But Josh was in the middle of them all. He was having the time of his life. 

He started swinging the dark haired girl around and dipping her dramatically as his brother watched and laughed. He sang out the words of the song playing to her.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me.

She played along with him for a while until he spun her around and twirled her back into his brother.

She broke away from her boyfriend for a second and pulled Josh close to her again.

She kissed his cheek and pushed him away playfully and right into the flower girl- the niece of the groom, who had been hopping around the dance floor all night.

He looked down at her and smiled. You watched him mouth something to her but you couldn’t tell what he said but a smile lit up her face as she looked up at him.

He held his hand out to her and the little girl took it. He leaned down and kissed her hand.

Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance, don'tcha wanna dance

Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance, don'tcha wanna dance

Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance

With somebody who loves me.

She twirled herself around under his arm and he spun her around by her hand. You could tell she loved the way her dress fanned out when she spun. 

She had a huge smile on her face the entire time. 

He took hold of both her hands and swung his arms back and forth with her, singing the lyrics of the song to her playfully.

The song came to an end and she hugged his legs tight. He patted her back and sent her off to hop around the dance floor some more.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his personality or if it was the tequila working its way through him. But either way, you liked it. 

Fun.

The night rolled on with more dancing and drinking but came to a halt as the DJ moved on to a section of slow songs. 

You watched your friends all naturally pair up with their partners and head to the dance floor.

Your friends had included you all night and not once did you feel awkward or out of place- until now that is. As the only single one in the group, slow songs at events made you feel completely excluded. It wasn’t intentional and you knew that. But you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad and lonely.

You sighed and thought about heading back to your table for a bit. But you had a change of mind when you looked past the crowd and saw Josh slip out the back patio door and into the darkness of the night.

With what was left of your drink in your hand, you walked through the crowd- past your friends, the bride and groom, and his group and the girls they were with, who were all slow dancing.

You opened the door and the cool night breeze instantly refreshed you. 

Josh turned around at the sound of the door opening and fought back a smile as you closed the door and walked closer to him.

The sounds and music of the reception were muffled instantly, only allowing you to hear the bass of the music from where you were.

In one hand, he had a drink he was nursing, which was mostly ice. He placed his other hand in his front pocket, looked down, and pursed his lips.

“How’s that tequila treating you?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He laughed, “It has treated me well but has proven to be ineffective,”

“That's what you get for ‘pacing yourself,’” you joked.

He blushed and put his lips to the straw, taking a sip of his drink.

He sucked on the straw but the sound of the straw sucking on nothing but ice filled the air, causing his blush to deepen.

You giggled and looked away for a second before turning your attention back to him as he spoke.

“So, Y/N, what brings you to this delightful celebration of love tonight?” he asked.

You liked his voice. He had an interesting way of speaking. You liked how his mouth moved and how his tongue pushed against his teeth as he spoke.

“Emily is my friend from highschool. You?” you said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Tim is my manager,” he replied, “I’m here with my brothers. We all work together.”

“And you’re out here because…” you said, stretching out your words.

“Same reason you’re out here, I presume” he said, lifting the glass to his lips and tilting it to let an ice cube fall into his mouth.

You raised your eyebrows at him and nodded, already knowing the reason each of you were by yourselves right now. 

“Weddings kind of suck when you’re single, don’t they?” you sighed.

He moved the ice around in his mouth and sucked on it for a moment before speaking.

“Doesn’t have to suck if you’re with the right company,” he said, giving you a small smile.

He looked down at the empty glass in his hand and then back up at you through his eyelashes.

He sucked his teeth and sighed before speaking again.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go back inside,” he said, “Get another drink maybe. You’re welcome to join me.”

He wasn’t asking you to come, but at the same time- he was. He wanted you to come with him. And you wanted to too.

“I’d love to,” you replied sweetly.

He extended his arm and let you walk toward the door in front of him. As you approached the door, he reached past you and opened it for you to enter. 

“Thank you,” you said as you walked through the door before him, feeling his hand lightly touching your lower back. 

Sweet.

You sat down at the bar next to him, which was a decent distance from the dance floor, allowing you the ability to speak in a normal voice, without the need to shout over the music. 

The bartender recognized you both from before and asked if you wanted the same things you had previously ordered.

Josh nodded.

“I’ll have what he’s having actually,” you replied.

He turned to face you with a surprised expression that slowly turned into a smile.

He had an adorable smile. It was the type of smile that only some people have. A smile that made his whole face light up.

The bartender handed you both your drinks and Josh placed some more dollar bills into the tip jar for her.

“Cheers to this moment,” he said as he raised his glass to you.

“And to pacing ourselves,” you added with a laugh.

You clicked your glasses together and looked at each other over the rims as you took your first sips. 

The two of you talked and got to know each other a bit as you drank.

He told you about the group he was with. His twin brother, Jake was with the pretty dark haired girl, Jita, and had been for years. 

The guy with long hair and sunglasses was his other brother, Sam, who was with Hannah in a relatively new relationship, which explained why they were all over each other. It didn’t quite explain why they were both barefoot but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

His friend Danny was recently single and was going through an “experimental phase” as Josh called it. You laughed and told him it was a “hoe phase” but he told you he didn’t like that term and refused to use it. 

You pointed out all your friends to him and told stories about all the adventures you went on with them back in the days of high school and how you all managed to stay good friends to this day.

You talked, laughed, and people watched for a while with him as the slower music played on and the couples continued dancing.

Everything you’d seen in him from afar that night, you were now seeing up close and personal. He was handsome, cute, charming, fun, and sweet. You liked it. You liked him.

The soft beginnings of a familiar tune traveled through the air. It started with a brass harmony that was soon accompanied by a drum, and vocals.

You’re just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

You’d be like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much.

You looked to your right to see Josh holding his glass in one hand and resting his other arm on the edge of the bar, looking down at your legs.

You reached your hand up and slid it on top of his. You both looked at your hands on the bar as his fingers flexed and interlocked with yours.

Instantly, you felt something inside you light up at his touch. 

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I’m alive

You're just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off you.

Slowly, his eyes traveled up to meet yours. 

You watched him swallow hard as his eyes scanned all over your face and stopped at your lips for longer than normal.

His lips separated just a bit and his tongue traced his bottom lip, making them glisten in the soft light. 

Pardon the way that I stare

There’s nothing else to compare

The sight of you leaves me weak

There are no words left to speak.

His eyes flicked back up at yours and you took a moment to stare into them.

You don't know why and you don’t know how but someway, somehow, a sudden burst of courage took over you.

“I love this song,” you whispered, “Will you dance with me?”

He nodded wordlessly, never breaking eye contact with you.

He stood up, held your hand, and helped you off the bar stool. 

You walked hand in hand with him towards the dance floor. 

He pulled back on your hand just a bit and you turned to him.

“I,” he paused, “I, uh, I can’t really dance,” he admitted.

“Let me teach you then,” you replied.

You walked with him just a bit further onto the dance floor and turned to face him.

He was shy, hesitant, and not really sure what to do with himself at first.

You placed one of his hands on your waist and he continued holding your hand with the other.

He quickly found his way, swaying you back and forth to the rhythm slowly as he kept his eyes locked on yours. 

But if you feel like I feel

Please let me know that it’s real

You’re just too good to be true

Can’t take my eyes off you.

“I never told you how beautiful I think you are, have I?”

You shook your head and looked down shyly.

“Well,” he paused, “I do. I thought it the second I saw you. You are absolutely beautiful.”

You brought your eyes back to his and looked into them deeply. 

Your eyes scanned his face and you watched his eyes do the same to yours.

The music began to pick up, heading for a crescendo but the two of you stopped moving. You just stood there, lost in eachother.

“Josh?” 

“Mhm?”

“Kiss me.”

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his body and crashed his lips onto yours as the crescendo of the music hit.

You locked your lips around his and kissed him hard. You felt fireworks in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. Your heart was pumping adrenaline through your veins like never before.

I love you, baby

And if it’s quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm the lonely night

I love you, baby

Trust in me when I say.

He leaned down and you arched your back as he dipped you lower with your lips still locked. You only felt him. It was as if everyone else in the room had disappeared. 

You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in closer as he grabbed the side of your neck and held it tight.

Oh pretty baby

Don’t bring me down I pray

Oh, pretty baby

Now that I’ve found you, stay

And let me love you, baby

Let me love you.

The music descended back down and he pulled away with you still dipped down underneath him. 

With your face just inches away from his, you smiled and he reciprocated one back to you. You watched his upper body vibrate as the two of you broke into laughter while he pulled you up to stand upright.

He moved his hand from your neck up to cup your jaw and he rubbed his thumb over your cheek.

“I’ve been waiting all night to do that,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Me too,” you replied.

Perfect.

You and Josh got more comfortable with each other and danced a bit as the night progressed and eventually came to an end. You snuck sweet kisses in between songs and you introduced each other to your respective groups. 

The reception ended and everyone said their goodbyes but you and Josh found each other before leaving for the night.

“So,” Josh began as the two of you walked out of the venue and into the hotel lobby, hand in hand, behind Jake and Jita. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?”

“Mhm, going to sleep,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You staying here?” he asked, referring to the hotel the wedding was in.

“Yep. You?”

“Room 504,” he said as he flashed his room key at the elevator security.

Jake pressed the button to call the elevator and you turned to Josh.

He held you by the small of your back and pulled you close to him. 

“You wanna come up with me?” he asked softly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just really li-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his and kissing him softly. You pulled away and watched his eyes open back up slowly. 

He bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“Of course,” you whispered, “As long as you pace yourself.”

Songs: 

Ohio Players: Love Rollercoaster

Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance With Somebody

Frankie Valli: Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Author’s Note: 

I have a crush on Josh. Help. Speaking of weddings, shoutout to my Greta wife Erica, go read her stuff.

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 12

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: public speaking, mild-mid anxiety

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

You wake the morning of the conference, the last thing you have to deal with before you get the fresh start of a new term. 

You’re a cocktail of feelings as you dress and get ready- pride at the work you’ve done, anxiety at the prospect of speaking in front of a crowd of people, uneasiness about seeing Gojo, the joy of finishing your first term. 

But you know your feelings will settle, all that’s left to do is give the presentation. You pay special attention to your clothes today- opting for professional wear that exudes confidence. You’ll need it. 

After one last check in the mirror, you head out the door and down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Your stomach is in knots and the thought of breakfast is nauseating, even though you need the energy. You settle for a cup of miso soup you can sip on to ease your nerves. As you drink the broth, you run through the prepared speech in your head, hitting each beat as the cafeteria fills with returning students. 

You meet Saito and Kuzume at the metro stop, and your heart is already beating fast as you board the train. The three of you make some light conversation, but it’s clear that you’re all feeling nervous. 

The metro speeds away from campus, towards the outskirts of the city- the event is being held at an upscale hotel a few kilometers from the university. The presentation is all you’ve been able to think about for the past week, and the underground route as you travel doesn't offer much distraction. You still have no idea how many attendees will be present, and this will be a critical opportunity to make new connections in the educational world. 

The biggest pit in your stomach isn’t from the presentation though. The first time you’ll see Gojo in over a month will be on a stage in front of hundreds of people, and you have no idea what to expect. You only hope that he won’t be as cold to you in front of an audience as he was when you last talked. 

When you exit the metro and find the hotel, the venue seems even more grand than you had imagined. The auditorium is large enough to hold several hundred people, and is nearly full of professionals mingling. Large windows near the ceiling let in natural light, which makes the beige interior feel more lived in. Butterflies dance in your stomach- you’ve never spoken in front of a crowd even a fraction of this size. 

You take in the enormous space, and your heart stutters as you see Gojo across the room. 

He’s talking with someone you don't recognize, but the other man is dressed nicely and wearing a lanyard. He must be one of the attendees then. Gojo towers above his companion, lean and impeccably dressed as always- wearing tailored slacks and a fitted button down. What catches your attention most, though, is that he’s not wearing his sunglasses today. You glance at the bright artificial lights and sunlight bathing the room. His eyes must already be sore. 

That’s not your concern though. 

Gojo’s silence over text had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in continuing your friendship or anything more outside the confines of this project. You can work civilly with him for this presentation, and hopefully keep contact at a minimum for the remainder of your degree. 

You walk with Kuzume and Saito deeper into the event space. A section of chairs has been roped off for your class of presenters, and the three of you head towards the rest of your class in the audience. Nerves have made some of your classmates chatty, and you let the wave of noise wash over you without really listening. 

You give Kuzume a wan smile as you sit next to her. She follows your eyes to where Gojo is standing and smiles sympathetically.

"Just this last day."

You nod, but your throat feels tight when you look down. 

A classmate passes around a schedule of the events for the day and how to access the stage for your presentation. Your class will speak in the morning, there will be a break for refreshments, and then an optional series of speakers in the afternoon. You and Gojo are fortunate- you've been slotted as the third group to speak. There won't be the pressure of speaking first or the dreadful anticipation of being the last group. 

Many of the other attendees have found their seats by now, and the lights dim to indicate the impending opening. An older gentleman steps onto the stage, introduces himself, and welcomes the speakers and attendees. 

“We are thrilled to be joined by students from the University of Tokyo's teaching program. Today they will share the results of their cutting edge curriculum research.”

He introduces the first pair and the crowd of academics gives a warm welcome to the group.  Their presentation goes smoothly, quickly discussing their examples. The second group is announced and your anxiety spikes as they take the stage. 

You head to the side door, where you can watch their speech from the wings of the stage. The second group's explanation flies by and you fidget as you wait for them to conclude. If it’s possible, the crowd looks even larger from this angle than it did when you were walking amongst them. 

Then your name is announced with Gojo's and you're walking into the bright lights of the stage. It might be biased, but you swear the applause is louder and longer than it had been for your prior classmates. 

You are supposed to kick off the presentation, and for a moment as the cheers from the crowd wane, your heart in your throat, you think you might choke. There’s too much riding on this moment, there’s been too much leading up to the event. The emotion crashes down on you. 

But when the applause completely tapers and it's time to introduce yourself, you look specifically at your classmates. Through the bright lights, Saito and Kuzume are smiling at you, and the anxiety subsides. You picture your class at the Eikaiwa school and just like you’ve done a thousand times, you’re going to present a lesson. You take a deep breath and begin the presentation.

With your nerves gone, you are really an excellent speaker. This is information you care about, and presenting today could open the door of a teaching job when you graduate. You speak easily to the crowd, allowing your passion and care to shine through your words as you describe the research you did and how you chose your example problems. All the preparation pays off too- your tone and pacing are natural and you hit each beat you'd rehearsed.

Your smile is genuine when you pass the presentation back to Gojo. He seamlessly picks up where you left off, but his eyes linger on your face for a moment when he begins speaking. 

Of course, Gojo is an excellent orator. He expands on your points and grins easily at the crowd as he describes his research studies and example problems. He's truly in his element, alight with charisma and passion as he effortlessly reconnects his research and details with your own. The extra discussion of how your data works together elevates the presentation and truly shows the combined care you each put into this project. 

He’s so different than you’ve seen him in class or even when working together, and you find your heart aches with how much you can see his love for his future students. You can’t help it, you’re awash with admiration for the man beside you. 

The lights of the stage make his hair flash, and his eyes sparkle. In what feels like a moment, Gojo finishes the presentation with a flourish. 

Applause fills the hall as you bow and return to your seat. Saito and Kuzume give you thumbs up and whisper compliments as you sit. Without the fear of the presentation gripping your stomach, a wave of pride engulfs you. The paper, the presentation, so much work culminated in this one moment, and warmth fills your body. Hearing the affirmations from your friends and peers and the approval of other figures in academia certainly boosts your confidence too. 

You peer out into the sea of people, looking for Gojo’s distinctive hair. You’d lost him as you returned to your seat after speaking, which is probably for the best. And although you wish that you could appreciate the moment with Gojo, worrying about him will just distract from the rest of the accolades. 

Saito and Kuzume both deliver wonderful presentations, and you clap loudly for each. Your friends are passionate and smart, and their expertise in their subject areas truly shines when they speak. Once the last groups have finished their accounts, the host of the conference re-joins the stage and dismisses the crowd. It’s time for the networking and socializing of the after ceremony.

Watching your peers present their semester’s work was a good distraction, but as the seated participants disperse and begin to mingle, your earlier emotions catch up with you and the thought of speaking to strangers and making good impressions is almost too much to bear.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you take a moment to reconstruct the poise you’ll need for the next few hours. If it didn’t break every social nicety, you would head back to campus now. But to actually succeed in Japan, to stay and build your life and professional career here, connections are vital. If there’s an administrator in the audience who liked your presentation or another teacher in the same field with a job opening in the future, making a good impression today could make all the difference down the line. 

Besides, what are the chances you’ll run back into Gojo? Given how quickly he left after class and his reputation, he wouldn’t stay and socialize.

You’ve got to pull yourself together. The muffled bubble of conversation leaks through the thin walls as you turn the faucet on. The water is bracingly cold on the skin of your hands and it forces you out of the anxiety that has followed you all day. 

With a final look at your reflection, you dry your hands and settle your resolve. 

Striding back into the event space, your mask is firmly in place. The group hosting the event spared no expense for catering and drinks- there are dozens of tables lined with appetizers, and the conversation of hundreds of people resounds off the high ceilings. You lift your chin and enter the line for the nearest table.  

As you grab an appetizer, you feel the attention of someone by your side. You look up, and Gojo is standing next to you.

He gives you an easy smile, peeking over the rims of the glasses. 

“Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.”

“It went pretty well, I told you we didn’t have to worry.” His voice is light as he reaches over you to grab a small plate.

You're not sure what to say, you hadn't prepared to talk to him beyond the presentation itself, and even after pulling yourself together in the bathroom you'd rather not have to speak to him. After his silence and frigidity, it's strange that he's acting chummy now. 

“Yea, well, I’m glad that we still prepared.” You swallow. “Not all of us are used to speaking at events.” 

You avoid looking directly at him, keeping your attention on the limitless trays of food in front of you. Without the pressure of delivering a speech to a crowd, it’s still painful to be this close to him. 

“Hey, they’d never know! Maybe you’ve got more of these in your future.” You can hear the smile in his voice now. “Or maybe it’s all that practice from teaching already.”

You’re not sure what to say. While being hosted by the symposium is an incredible occasion, you’re thankful it’s over now. 

“Our cohort was lucky to have the opportunity. All of our classmates did well.” You respond.

He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Our speech was a standout. You don’t have to be modest, I really think you did well.”

The sudden friendliness after freezing you out is more painful than not interacting at all, you’re left feeling confused and overwhelmed by his closeness. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Maybe I’ve even got some competition now? You know, there’s more of these year round and-”

You turn to face him and cut him off. “Hey sorry, I don't have much time to talk, I told Saito I’d meet her. I’ll see you around, Gojo.”

Excusing yourself is the politest thing you can do right now. Some of your other classmates have gathered around one of the tables near the middle of the space. It’s safe to bet that Gojo won’t follow- even surrounded by peers and academics, he hardly bothers to converse with anyone. 

After the emotional highs and lows of the day, you're not in the mood to politic or network. You stand in the vicinity of your peers for appearances sake with a bland smile and plate in your hand. After a half hour that feels like an eternity, you decide you've been there long enough and say a couple quick goodbyes.

The air outside the building is as sweet as you've ever tasted, and the natural light of the afternoon warms your skin when you've made it out of the hotel.

You decide to walk home instead of taking the train the couple stops back to campus. Your chest feels heavy. Some parts of you are glowing with pride after the successful presentation- the compliments from attendees were flattering, and also helped to reassure you of your success. A deeper, more raw part of you feels jilted by Gojo’s behavior. 

After being silent all summer and barely working with you on the presentation flow, it was absurdly bold of him to act so friendly during the after ceremony. You could accept if he didn’t want to be close or if he did, but his hot and cold behavior is driving you absolutely crazy. You can only pray that he’ll be absent from your classes this term- perhaps he’s tested out of them again. 

You resign yourself to a mix of feelings when you walk into your dorm, but try to focus on the positives in your own space. The window lets in the golden light, and you light a candle before sitting at your desk. You breathe deeply and the pressure of the day melts away. You pull up your computer and prepare to review the syllabi for your upcoming classes- sinking into the familiar rhythm of studying and your academic schedule. 

[thealwriteytrashdump]

Twist of Fate

Albert x Reader >:)

Well, this wasn’t how you expected your weekend trip to go.

Stirring your drink with the straw, you sighed heavily, taking another sip of the super-sweet cocktail. Drinking your heart out in the hotel bar wasn’t quite how you planned tonight, but the one detail of your itinerary you couldn’t control decided that he’d skip out after meeting you for the first time.

You could feel the chill in the air despite the stunning sweater dress you wore, your hair was styled the way the stylist taught you. You even wore makeup, dressing to impress your potential partner you met in an online chat server.

If you were being totally honest, this trip has done nothing but make a fool out of you. First, your flight was delayed causing you to miss your connection and subsequently making you wait in the airports for the better part of 18 hours, despite a direct flight only being 4 hours from where you lived.

While waiting in the airport, you got food poisoning and nearly shat yourself three separate times, once while on the actual plane. When you landed, due to his inability to get the days off for your trip, the man you were meeting was away at work which forced you to pay for a 30-minute taxi to your hotel that ended up costing you most of your budgeted food and fun money.

Finally when you dolled yourself up to actually meet this man, he took one look at you in your dark tight sweater dress, draping down to your mid-thigh, matching nicely with the pantyhose stockings and heels you chose specifically for this moment, and ditched you the moment he could.

He took you out, of course, but wanted to split dinner and drinks, but your extremely limited budget meant that you didn’t quite get the meal or the drinks. More just watching him awkwardly eat his meal while you munched on bread, trying your hardest to hold a conversation with him.

Despite all that, you were willing to say that it was fun, because you were with him, a man you were interested in. Of course, when he dropped you off at your hotel and drove away without saying much, you decided to head back to your room, slightly disappointed he didn’t want to spend the night.

Your texts went unanswered in the group chat and your private messages. Ultimately after a few hours of trying, he posted pictures in the group chat of him at a bar with assumed friends, arm around another woman.

Adding insult to injury, when questioned, he logged off and ignored you.

Now here you were, spending the rest of your money on one last drink in the fancy hotel bar just before it closed, dressed to the nines for no one but yourself, nursing a heartache as you contemplated what to do. Now you had nothing to do for the next couple of days while you waited to take your flight back home. You should probably leave the group chat, block his number, and move on.

Another sigh fell past your lips as you sipped on the cocktail, wondering idly if you should ask your sister to borrow some money.

How humiliating.

"What is a lovely dame like yourself doing all alone?"

Ignoring whoever was talking, you took another sip, more interested in wallowing in your self-pity, assuming that whoever was talking to someone else.

But the gentleman was not deterred, he took a seat and waved the bartender over as he placed his hand over yours and leaned in.

"It's rude to not answer a gentleman, little lady." He says lightly as he pulls up your hand to his mouth for a light kiss. The sensation of his lips on your hand pulled you out of your stupor, making you focus on the gentleman in the expensive sunglasses.

It’s midnight.

Flushing lightly, you open your mouth to say something but find your voice gone as you feel his gloved hands warm yours. His eyes were barely visible in the lens of the metal frame, as he watched you with a smirk.

“Oh? I’m sorry, I’m not-” you begin to say, pulling your hand away from his but he tightens his grip.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink, darling?” he says suddenly, as the bartender arrives. There was a moment of hesitation, just wanting to finish up and go to bed but mostly because you couldn’t afford another drink to drink. You don’t answer in time, and he signals the bartender to get another of the same drink you’re sipping on.

“Oh no no, I’m fine-”

“That’s not what I think, dear. You never answered me,” The bartender pushes forward a whiskey glass with a double shot for him with the hint of orange and peel and another cocktail for you. The gentleman smiles at you, raising his glass in a toast. Awkwardly you raise your glass to his before taking another sip.

“What is a beautiful young lady like yourself doing here specifically?” he asks again, cocking his head at you, pausing for your answer.

There was an inkling of that feminine fear in the back of your mind as you took him in. An older man, mysterious and a little handsome with a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was slicked back neatly away from his face, as he took a drink from his glass. A handsome stranger here to sweep you off your feet while you are down in the dumps in a strange bar, in a strange city.

Trouble.

“I… I’m not sure what I am doing here,” you say honestly, taking another swig as you drink him in some more. He wore a dark expensive-looking suit, an expensive watch on his wrist. He had his seat turned to you, showing off his long legs in the clean pressed suit pants with the shiny leather dress shoes.

Expensive trouble.

“I came here with an expectation and well, that kind of fell through.” You sip again, finding yourself finishing the first drink you were nursing. He brought the whiskey to his lips.

“What about you then, stranger?” You asked as you brought your straw to your lips, watching as he lifted his head lightly to drink, watching the way he swallowed.

“I have business in the city, things that need to be taken care of,” he says carefully, eyes still on you and the way you pucker your lips around the straw.

“Do you come here often?” you asked gently, side-eyeing him, feeling the effects of drinking on an empty stomach. Normally, your tolerance was higher, but considering that you never even got a proper dinner, things were processing quickly in your gut.

“Often as of late, I’m meeting with some potential business partners in the city,” he says, signaling another round for himself,

“Care for another drink, beautiful?” He asks as the bartender pushes another glass to him, watching you like a hawk as you contemplate his offer.

You should say no, you should go back to your room and go to bed.

“Sure.”

He smiled as he spoke to the bartender,

“A twist of fate, please.” He ordered as he leaned a bit closer to you. Against your better judgment, you allowed it, letting him come up close as he angled you to face him, gripping your stool and pulling you toward him in one powerful movement. Surprised, you flush darker as he continues to watch your face.

“Do you believe in fate, dear?” He asks as the bartender pushes another light pink cocktail to you. You take the delicate stem of the glass lightly as you glance back at this stranger’s handsome face, taking note of his long straight nose and thin soft lips,

“If I say yes, are you going to talk about twisting it?” You asked as you raised your glass to him again, a smile on your lips as he clinked his glass with yours.

“Well, my dear, if we’re lucky, our fates could be twisted together tonight. Don’t you agree?” He says smoothly as he gulps back his drink, you couldn’t see them, but you were sure his eyes were on you. Slowly taking a sip, you were surprised at how light and sweet the drink was, you couldn't taste the alcohol at all.

“Your eyes flicker to his face as you gulp back your drink, lifting your head as you subtly arch your back, feeling yourself melt away into buzzing pleasure.

This was dangerous but you couldn’t care less right now, enjoying the way he eagerly watched your every movement.

“I’m sure there’s something we could twist tonight,” you say dumbly, unable to think of a better quip as your nervous inhibitions drained away, replaced with drunken confidence.

He chuckled, taking a look around at the emptying bar, finishing his drink in one gulp. He paid the bartender and stood as you finished your cocktail.

Unfortunate that you got so fucked up on only three drinks.

“My dear, why don’t we take our fate upstairs?” He asks as he holds out his hand to you. You could feel your tummy burn but with what you couldn’t be sure. Taking his hand, you let him lead you away, you should really go to bed. You were almost too buzzed, trying to focus on walking straight with him.

“What is your name?” you asked as you both entered the elevator, leaning heavily on him as he supported the both of you. He chuckled again, breathy as he snaked an arm around you to steady you against his firm body.

His cologne fills your nostrils, smelling deeply of a spicy wooden scent, mixed with a deeper huskier musk and the lighter scent of pomade. You lean into him to take in more of his scent, pressing into him as you look up to him. Holding onto his forearms as you struggle to find your balance again.

“Albert,” he says simply, taking your chin in his gloved hand as he studies your face. You could just barely see his eyes in the dimmed elevator lighting, yours flickering down his lips, before making eye contact again.

He really was a handsome man, a delicious-smelling handsome man.

You snake a hand up his arm to his shoulder, feeling firm muscle under the blazer. You could feel his hands holding your waist, latching onto your hips as you regained your footing. You push up to his face, wanting to feel how his lips feel, consequences be damned.

You lean against him, tippy-toeing as you push on his shoulders to bring him down to you. You misjudged where exactly his mouth was and accidentally kissed his chin before moving up to his waiting mouth. Your eyes close as you press yourself into him, too drunk on alcohol and his scent to care about anything else.

Albert smirked, pleased as he held you against him, letting you leave sloppy kisses on his face. He felt your soft body underneath the sweater dress, lightly pushing up the hem to your ass as he grips your flesh. He swallows your soft needy moans as he loses himself more in your person.

He wasn’t as intoxicated as you were, but he was certainly entranced by the sweet rosy scent of your body oil. The clean floral notes mixed with a deeper musky scent he hadn’t smelled in a long time. The chemical signals in his brain click as he breathes it in more.

Delicious.

The little desperate noises you make as you press into him, feeling along his neck and chest, make him feel hot and desired as he holds you close to him.

A tempting little vixen you are, pulling back as you look into his sunglasses to his hidden eyes, the only thing that matters to you at this moment. Dragging your hands down his shirt to his crotch to rub him over the pants, boldly declaring what you desire from him.

You lean back down, pulling away, content with just teasing and waiting in his arms for the elevator door to open. He dips his head, brushing his nose against your hair, squeezing your side a tad harder.

“Will you join me, darling?” He asks quietly, as the elevator dings and the door opens.

“Join you?” You attempt to move to exit the elevator but he doesn’t move, bringing you close to him again. He presses into you from behind, burying his head into your hair,

“Yes, do you want to join me in my room tonight, dear?” He asked again, pressing you snugly against him, letting you feel everything that he is. The doors close, befuddling you,

“Weren't… we not going to go that..?” you asked innocently, trying to turn back to look at him. He huffed your smell deeply and chuckled breathily into your hair again.

“Of course.” He pressed a different floor button, and the elevator began to rise again.

He held you against him tight, nuzzling into your ear as you leaned back against him, still confused as you arched involuntarily into him, the pleasure buzzing deep in your veins from his hard body.

He moved your hair to the side, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, placing gentle wet kisses, and brushing his nose against the sensitive skin just behind your ear, inhaling deeply as a deep sigh rumbles out of his chest. The sound vibrates into your backside and makes you shiver as his hands begin to roam your body.

He felt up your stomach to just above your ribs, pulling you into him, as his other hand traveled down to your thighs. He presses patterns into the exposed skin just under the hem of your dress as he lightly ruts against the cleft of your ass.

He’s grunting into your ear, as he dragged his hand up ever so slightly to just below your breasts. Just when you think he’s going to touch you, the elevator dings again. The doors opened and he pulled back unwillingly, out of breath.

A little whine ripped out your throat before you could think about it and he’s pulling you along, past the other guests waiting for the elevator. You’re stumbling from the inhuman strength of his pulling but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

He pulled out a keycard and swiped it several times at his room door before the door opened, and he’s pulling you in.

The room was dim, and as soon as the door closed, he was back on you again. This time, he’s kissing you hard, pushing you against the wall next to the door. He eagerly tasted your sweet breath, and breathed in your sweet scent, letting out a louder noise than he intended. A low guttural noise that travels straight down your body to your core.

Hearing him needy for you coaxes out soft little whines as you get swept into his passion. Trying to pull him closer to you as you both move in tandem. He pushed, you pulled. You pushed, and he pulled like waves crashing onto the beach. He doesn’t allow you a single moment to catch your breath as he holds you against the wall, nipping your lip in warning as he presses his thigh betwixt yours.

You eagerly accept his invitation, groaning deeply as you open your mouth to him, trying to rut on his muscular thigh as he rubs his hands up and down your sides. He felt your curves, hand sliding up to hold onto your chest as he pressed his leg harder against your cunt, enjoying the strangled noise you make as he tastes the back of your throat.

He pinched your nipple hard through the dress and your bra and you pulled away with a cry, arching hard as pleasure jolts through your body from his fingertips.

“Too much?” he breathed as he leaned in, kissing your ear and neck, sucking your earlobe as he massages your breast.

“Not enough.” you choked out as you kicked off your heels, and attempted to take his blazer off, he groaned as he shrugged it off quickly, tossing it away as he takes your mouth again, dominating your weak attempt to keep up with him. He swallows every little sound, as he tugged on your dress.

“Darling..” he breathed as you pulled away to catch your breath.

Taking off your jewelry, you tossed it in the direction of your heels, uncaring about where they ended up as you tried to take off the dress too quickly, messing up your hair in the process. You struggled a bit as your arms caught in the dress that’s stuck on your head, getting turned around. You heard him in the background, chuckling as he stepped up eagerly behind you, bringing his hands up to your chest, squeezing your breasts hard as he kissed the exposed part of your nape. The heat of his body on your back, makes you realize he’s undressed too.

“Having trouble, darling?” he says as you squeaked in embarrassment, flushed and overheated, he presses his bare chest into your back as he massages your tits, waiting for your answer.

“I can’t get it off,” you say quietly, as you feel him smile against your neck, squirming as he teases your chest lightly.

“Oh well,” he says as he lifted you up, dragging you to the bed making you squeal in confusion and fear when he tossed you back against the soft covers. He took his time crawling and settling on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, to untangle you from the dress. Albert dragged his hands over your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin of your chest he could.

As he pulls the dress up and over your head, you find he’s still wearing the sunglasses and gloves but his shirt is gone, and his belt is unbuckled. You take in the Adonis of a man before you, wiry and muscular as he leaned back to take you in too. Your arms held captive over your head stuck in that soft temptation of a dress, your matching lingerie and pantyhose hugging your frame nicely.

“There you are, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips and nose against yours and he kissed you deeply. He dragged his hands up your sides and down your stomach, teasing your navel as he revels in the feeling of your soft skin.

“God, darling…” he breathed as he kissed along your jaw, nipping your earlobe, pleased when you cried out and arched into him, trying to get your arms free so you could touch him too.

“Albert,” you whined as he kissed down to your clavicle. He hummed in response, suckling as his hands reached up to squeeze your chest. He bit hard, making you cry out as you tremble from the pain coursing pleasure through your veins. He sucked down hard, reaching behind you to unhook your bra but to his mild surprise, he did not find the hooks. He pulled back as you whined needily for him again.

“The front, the clasp is in the front,” you say as you struggle once again to free your arms, trying to fight the drunken lusty stupor you find yourself in.

Albert says nothing as he unclasps your bra, watching your tits bounce open as they’re free from the bra, enraptured by the beauty of your body. He glances up to your face: to the way your face flushes, to how you bite your lip and look up at him with those eyes. The way you’re helpless against him. Your chest heaves with every bated breath and it’s his turn to flush red.

He didn’t realize how much he wanted this. Wanted you at this moment.

He swooped down to your chest, taking one breast in hand as he sucked hard on the other tit, rolling the nipple between his teeth, making you cry out as he eagerly pleasured your body. You lifted yourself against him, trying to find the friction you so desperately needed against his body. Desperate to touch him in some way. You struggle wildly with the dress, willing to go as far as rip it to free your arms.

He lets out a deep growl as he holds you still, taking his time littering your chest with love bites, thrusting his hardening member against your clothed cunt as best as he can.

“Albert, please..” you begged, as he pulled off your nipple with a pop, turning his attention to the other as he dragged his hand down your stomach to your thighs, pulling them apart. He glanced up to your face, effectively silencing you as he nips and sucks on your tits.

He slid his hand over you, teasing you over the panties; brushing your clit with his fingers.

You can’t look away from his eyes, if you didn’t know any better, you would say they were a bright burning red in the dimmed darkness of the room. Burning you deeply as you’re helpless against this incubus of a man. You needed more and more, finally freeing one of your arms from the dress, reaching down to pull him back up to your face for a kiss.

He pulled you to him, fitting you like a puzzle piece against him, and you’re delirious with desire, rutting against his hard-on like a whore, kissing him desperately, finally able to touch him like he’s been touching you. You absentmindedly dragged your hands over his hair, knocking down his sunglasses accidentally.

He growled and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, making you cry out in genuine pain as he pulled back quickly.

Suddenly and instantaneously, you were flipped in the bed with your face in the sheets, and Albert gripping your hands back over your head. A gasp left your lips as he leaned down to snarl against your ear,

“Don’t do that,” he warned, kissing your neck gently, you nodded eagerly still high off lust and alcohol, completely obedient as you lifted your ass and rubbed against his body wantonly. He laughed a sinister snicker,

“Little whore so eager for me..” he breathed as he leaned back up, watching you shake your ass desperately for him.

“Please, Albert,” you whispered, trying to get him to touch you again.

“Please… What?” You heard the clink of his belt and your heart skipped a beat, hyper-focusing on the slight rustling as he pulled his pants down a little, but what he did was a mystery to you as you arched up in the air for him.

“I need this, I need you.” You’re embarrassed to admit it but it’s true. He chuckles,

“I’m afraid you need to be a little more specific than that, my dear,” he whispers into your ear, rubbing the tip of his head against your clothed ass as he jerks himself nice and slow.

You gasped as you felt the bulbous head rubbing against you, trying to find the words that would allow you to feel him. All of him.

“I.. I want you to fuck me.” You say unabashed, pushing back into him needily. He jerks himself faster, pushing into your panties as he hisses lightly.

“You want me to fuck your nice little ass?” he says, rutting against you with every word.

“Yes! Albert, please… Fuck my little hole!” He settled a bit before he grabbed your hair and roughly yanked you up, reveling in the pleasured cry you made,

“Don’t move, keep your pretty little head down and your ass up like a good little slut. Understand?” He breathed, low and dangerous.

You nod desperately, but he yanked your hair harder,

“I said, understand?”

“Yes! Yes sir!” you keened whorishly, about ready to burst already when he shoved your head back down into the bed and pulled back. There is a sense of loss as he left the bed, but you do as you’re told, head down, ass up.

You can hear him rustling around, searching for something before he sighed and returned, giving a light kiss to your ass before pulling your underwear and pantyhose down, teasing your cunt with his fingers. He poked and prodded at the entrance as he slid his thumb down to your clit, playing you like a musical instrument.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he groaned as he grips and pulls your ass cheeks, slipping his thumb into your opening as he stroked himself. Albert breathed deeply, unable to control himself as he lined himself up eagerly, rubbing his tip against your twitching hole, listening to you gasp, watching you spread your legs wider, pushing back into him needily.

“Such a good little whore.” he hissed as he slowly pushed in, trying to control his breathing and power as he sinks into your warmth.

The sheer girth of his shaft makes you cry out, arching hard against the pained pleasure and making him grunt as he stutters to a complete stop, unable to speak a full sentence as he waits for you to relax again.

“Tight, darling.. So fucking tight.” he breathed, itching to just slam forward, to fuck you as fast and rough as he wants.

“Albert. You’re so big..!” You drawled into the sheets, trembling as he rubbed and kneaded your hips, pushing further into your tightness and drawing a longer whiny moan from you as he hilts himself deep within.

You’re stretched to your limit, needing him to hold still for you as you breathe deeply, trying to push past the burn. He doesn’t though, moving as soon as he felt you relax against him. The drag of cock against your folds, forced a guttural whimper from your throat as he steadied himself with your hips.

He groaned deeply, feeling his pleasure spike into his fingertips and electrocuting his brain. He pulled out slowly, pushing back in, concentrating on keeping control for as long as he could.

You cried desperately needing him to go slow as you lose your mind, the pulsing of your velvety walls milking him as he fucked you. He pushed slowly and deeply as he thrust into your cunt.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well.” His breath hitched as he began to move a little faster, unable to resist the way you feel, practically sucking him in by the cock.

It was all too much and not enough for you, needing to feel him but being overwhelmed by every touch. You gripped onto sheets, unconsciously tightening as you tried to move against him. Albert huffed, breath knocked out of him as he continued, hardening his grip on your hips as he slid a hand up your back to hold you still.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little whore.” he says through clenched teeth but still you rocked against his grip.

“Please, Albert. I need more-!”

He slammed his hips forward, effectively cutting you off as he let himself feel more and more. He held you down as he fucked you hard, controlled thrusts guided by your wet warmth, feeling your cunt tighten and loosen with every plunge of his cock in your pussy.

He stopped being so careful, chasing his high as you cried out for yours.

Albert moved inhumanly fast, pounding and abusing your cunt in the most gratifying way possible. He already hit deep when he was slowly teasing you but as he fucked you harder and harder, he pushed deeper. He pressed you into the mattress roughly, angling you in a way that let him sink deeper into you.

The rough treatment made you see the blinding stars behind your eyelids, as he gripped your flesh hard enough to bruise.

His heavy balls slapped against your clit, rubbing against you pleasurably as he hit that sensitive spot repeatedly.

He grew deathly quiet, focusing on you and your noise, basically holding you exactly how he wanted you. He watched your ass jiggle with every slap of his hips against yours. Watching how you immediately fell apart under his rough touch, unable to say your piece as you sobbed for him.

To keep going?

To stop?

He didn’t know, but he knew he wouldn’t stop, not until he painted your body with his seed. You drooled onto the sheets, widening your legs as he fucked white hot sparks of pleasure up your spine to your brain. The intensity is like fireworks in your nerves, burning you away and replacing you, only to burn you away again.

It was almost natural to try and ground yourself in any way you could, desperately to feel your climax but unable to withstand the onslaught of his brutal pace. Curling your toes, tightening your cunt, body stiffening as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Not even sure what you were saying anymore if you were saying anything at all. Lost at the very tippy top of madness, the very peak of oblivion just a thrust away.

It was almost like he could sense your impending climax as he immediately hauled you onto your knees, lifting you back up by your arms as he shifted on the bed. This new angle was your undoing, he speared your cunt and groaned deep in your ear when you sobbed out the undeniable storm that crashed over you.

For a moment you could not hear nor see nor speak as your entire body burned with the pleasure so intense, it felt like fire scorching your soul.

He pushed you back down onto your face as you were lost in your bliss, still chasing his high as he felt the end approach.

He wanted to cum inside your warmth, to feel that satisfaction but he knew better, pulling out and jerking himself to completion as he panted out praise for your still spasming body. He rubbed his cock over your backside, spreading his cum over your asscheeks, marking you his if only for the night.

He was surprised he lost his breath, genuinely pleased that any sort of physical activity still winded him after his ascension to godhood.

He leaned back, wiping sweat from his face as he looked down upon your ruined beautiful body, still face down in the ruined sheets. He stood, stroking his cock again at the sight of you in his bed before he turned to grab something to clean up.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. You were sure you died and gone to heaven with how waves of mild pleasure still rocked through your heavy numb limbs.

Vaguely you could feel him move around, feel his cooling cum on your ass as you attempted to move, but were unable to move your jellied legs.

You heard him coo at you but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying as you felt him drag a wet cloth on your wet ruined cunt. The cool sensation made you flinch from overstimulation but you hummed in appreciation,

“Dearheart?” he says again and again you make another attempt at speaking, unable to form words at the moment. Only stirring when you have the strength to do so, looking up at his face and being surprised he turned off the lights. You could just barely make out his outline in the city lights from outside, but not much else as he continued to clean you, tossing the rag elsewhere when he was finished.

He said nothing as he shifted you slightly, moving to get into bed with you.

You go to say something but he shushes you, pulling you into his warmth as your alcoholic brain finally shuts off. He was just so warm and you were just so tired.

Consequences and headaches are for the morning after.

[grey-sides]

bentgrass

~2K, explicit, bottom!Steve

Billy's finished his shift, as luck would have it- Steve Harrington is at the tiki bar.

Billy's cut-off jeans and sweaty t-shirt might not exactly be course approved, but he shows up to work on time and doesn't fuck up the greens so the super lets him get away with it. He smirks as a couple rich ladies look his way and flush under their fake tans. He doesn't give a shit that they're looking at him though, his hair pulled back from his face by an old ass baseball cap.

He does flick his sunglasses down and flips his toothpick around because it makes them look away. They titter amongst themselves, while he tracks sod and sand through the pool area. The lifeguard is gonna give him shit tomorrow, but he still doesn't give a shit.

On the other side of the pool, sitting at the outdoor bar there's someone he's after. His shift is long over and Billy could head home, but that would involve passing this opportunity up.

There's a couple of players here, some of the first to tee off before Billy had even finished the back nine. He gets it, warm day in May, better to take the day off from the office and crack out a round.

He licks the sweat from his upper lip and pulls a rag out of his back pocket, dragging it across his face. It probably only dirties him more, judging by the looks a couple more rich ladies give him. They're probably homemakers, here for the pool and the tennis courts. They probably only pick up a set of clubs when their husbands need a foursome.

He tucks the rag away and skirts around the edge of the pool. It would be nice to take a dip, but he's a man on a mission. So he nods to the kid working the snack stand and heads over the bank to the lower tiki bar.

There's some vague island mix playing, more than a few businessmen who decided to have a long weekend lingering around it. Tables off to the side, overlooking the eighth hole.

And there he is- bored probably. Baby blue polo, khaki shorts, golf cleats changed out for loafers. His hair is a mess, probably run through a hundred times to kill the hat hair look. He has a cocktail in a plastic cup beside him, ice half melted and almost completely drunk.

Billy's not a fool, he didn't come here just for him, but damn he looks good bored like this. There's some old guy talking to him, probably someone from work. Steve's dad pays their membership and Steve likes to play whenever he has the chance to. Billy knows he's been here since early in the morning, before Billy had even finished the back nine because the pro shop told him.

No one here knows why Billy gives a shit that Steve is here, just that he does. So they always tell him. And Billy makes sure to get as good and fucking dirty as he possibly can.

"Harrington, heard you fucked up my second hole," he says, turning the heads of the businessmen. They're probably rich enough to buy Billy, but this is his turf. He's seeded it, treated it, evened it with precision. And Steve is the boss's son. So they turn away.

Steve shakes his head and picks up his cocktail as he gets up from his seat. "You didn't cut it straight."

"Not a chance, I spent hours perfecting that one," Billy replies, dangerous. He knows Steve put the divot back, but it's an in.

"How much do I owe you for seed then?" Steve replies, raising his brows. He pulls his nice leather wallet out and flicks it open.

Billy shakes his head and holds his hand up. "A drink'll do. No employee discount."

Steve snorts but he waves goodbye to his posse. They all nod back like they give a shit that he's leaving and tosses his cup into the nearest trashcan. He tucks his hands in his pockets as they head back up towards the pool.

"Nah, it was good today. I was only five short."

Billy looks surprised when he glances at Steve. "Really? Damn, you're getting good, Harrington!"

"Helps that I come here so damn often," Steve chuckles. He shakes his head and opens the gate that leads back to the hotel, holding it open for Billy. "You been here all day?"

"Course I have, grass doesn't mow itself," Billy scoffs.

Steve chuckles and looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching them when he turns to Billy. "You look like you've been. What did you do? Roll around in the sand trap?"

Billy shoves him and grabs for his wallet so he can pull out Steve's room card. "You're a fucking asshole. You're the one who likes this."

"And yet you keep doing it!" Steve laughs. He opens the door to the hotel and heads straight for the winding staircase. He has a permanent room here as part of the membership fee his dad pays. It always comes in handy, even though none of this is a secret anymore.

Steve grins at him when he slides the card against the handle, Billy takes the opportunity to crowd him up against the door. They're laughing as they stumble in together, cheeks flushed with delight.

"Mm, didn't think I'd get to see you today," Steve croons when he backs up, sliding his arms around Billy's shoulders. The door shuts behind them and all that's left is the whirr of the A/C.

"Nah, can't leave you high and dry after that good of a game," Billy replies. He slides his hands low, grabbing Steve's ass as he leans in to kiss him.

Steve tastes like whiskey when he slides his tongue into Billy's mouth, the expensive kind. He moans softly as Billy pushes him back towards the bed. It's fresh, far too clean for Billy to get into. He'll have to thank Gloria extra in the morning.

Steve falls back and pops the button on his shorts so they can be slid down past his ass. He huffs a laugh as Billy's t-shirt follows them and slides his hands up Billy's stomach and chest.

"Look at this man," Steve laughs, tugging on Billy's chest hair.

Billy dives his hands under Steve's shirt too to tug on his chest hair, laughing. "You're one to talk!"

It's easy, it's fun. It's so much different from how it used to be and Billy can't believe they found it on a golf course of all fucking places.

Billy works to get them both nude and reaches over for the bedside table where Steve has already set out lube and condoms. He stops to kiss Steve again on his way back, sliding his hands all over his body.

Steve hums into the kiss, smiling, giddy. They do this semi-frequently and go on real dates too, but sometimes it's just like the first time.

Billy does get off the bed after a moment to wash his hands, no matter how dirty Steve likes him, he's not giving him a fucking infection from shit like that.

"Billy!" Steve calls and Billy can hear the crack of the lube bottle from the bathroom.

"I'm cleaning up for you, princess! Giving you a nice man you can take home to Mom!"

"Don't make me think of my mom when I'm fingering myself, asshole!"

Billy laughs and dries his hands off. He wiggles his fingers when he walks back out, grinning at Steve. "Seems like you're still doing just fine to me."

Steve rolls his eyes, though they end up fluttering when he hits himself just right. He's three fingers deep, doing it just because he can and Billy loves to watch.

He busies himself with lubing up and rolling the condom on. He's heated, warm from the day and made warmer by watching Steve. He shivers a little and leans down to kiss Steve while he sees how far he can push himself.

"My turn," Billy breathes, steadying his hand so he can pull it out of Steve. He brushes their noses together and sighs softly.

Billy pins Steve's wrist above his head and uses his other hand to help him get into a good position. Face to face, but it's fine because Billy can kiss him this way.

"So fucking hot, even in your dumb little shorts," he murmurs. He lines himself up, lets Steve take his dick to guide him in.

"It's your fucking course's oh fuck rules!" Steve protests while Billy pushes himself in. He loves to watch Steve's mouth open and close a couple of times while he tries to center himself.

"No more work talk," Billy says and his voice is only a little strangled. Mostly. He bottoms out and leans over Steve to kiss him silly again.

Steve lifts his leg so he can hold Billy in place and stares back at him when they break apart. Then it's the push and pull. Billy moves at a somewhat slow pace, but hard like Steve likes it.

Steve does his best to move with him, though it can get a little awkward. He licks his lips and opens his mouth, panting out moans with each thrust.

"So fucking good," Billy praises, his hair hanging down around his cheeks.

"Yeah- right there," Steve begs. He arches his throat back and it's Billy's cue to lean in, to nip at the skin above his Adam's apple. He likes to leave it a little red, a little sore so Steve will fidget about it later and whine. Billy loves to listen to him whine.

Steve's other hand wiggles between their stomachs and he starts to stroke himself too. He almost always takes a little longer than Billy, which Billy absolutely does not mind.

"Shit," Billy breathes. His pace picks up a little while he chases that feeling. His balls keep slapping Steve's ass, but he swears they're tightening up against him. His eyes flutter shut and he moans, bending over Steve some more.

"That's it," Steve coaxes, voice wrecked. "Come on, give it to me."

Billy huffs through his lips, tightens his hold on Steve's wrist. He gets a little frantic, a little sloppy and then-

"Oh fuck, Steve," he grunts, fucking his hips hard as he cums. Right up to the point it becomes too much.

Steve laughs when Billy pulls out, half delirious as his hips come off the bed. His hand moves faster and Billy watches as he squirms until he cums too. He makes a mess across his chest and hand, but he smiles lazily when he catches Billy's eyes.

"Good?" Steve asks, reaching for a tissue to wipe his hand off.

Billy nods lazily, eyes slipping closed for a moment. It's been a long fucking day.

"Good." Steve rolls onto his side and leans up to kiss Billy's jaw. He needs a shave and something for dinner soon.

"I wanna take a shower and then we can order room service?"

"Can I have the fluffy towel?" Billy asks, yawning around the words.

Steve laughs as he sits up and pats Billy's chest. "Anything for you, tiger."

Billy listens to the bathtub start to run and forces himself to sit up. He hums as he makes his way to the bathroom, slapping Steve's skinny white ass when he passes him. He holds up the condom and drops it into the trashcan.

"Oh and by the way-?" Billy begins.

"Hm?" Steve asks, bent over to make sure the water is nice and warm for them.

"Seed's free of charge."

"Billy!" Steve whines, but he's laughing when he kisses Billy again.

[godspeedviper]

Mr. Brightside || Ch 1 - The Corinthian x Malcolm Bright (+18)

𖤐 Summary: Malcolm (Whitly) Bright has a nightmare where he runs into the Corinthian at one of his mother’s charity cocktail parties and is seduced by the nightmare incarnate, leading to repressed desires bubbling to the surface. When he awakens, Malcolm is called to the scene of a recent murder which follows the pattern of a legendary cross country serial killer who’s murders have spanned decades. This killer (or killers) is known only as The Corinthian. 

𖤐 Pairing: Malcolm Bright x The Corinthian

𖤐 Word Count: 5 ~ 6k, multi chapter

𖤐 Warnings: +18 smut. graphic depictions of violence and gore. consent turned non-con. eye trauma. canon typical violence.

𖤐 A/N: THIS IS A RE UPLOAD FROM MY OLD AO3 ACCOUNT. IT IS NOT STOLEN IT IS NOT GENERATED IT IS NOT PLAGIARIZED

⚠️ DON'T LIKE DON'T READ! BLOCK DON'T REPORT ⚠️

Ch 1: Preludes

   Malcolm manoeuvers his way around the crowd of finely tailored suits and pastel coloured day dresses that filled the large expanse of the foyer to his childhood home. Each expertly dressed figure held a drink, the glass gently chiming at the touch of the expensive jewellery or cufflinks at their wrist, and their surgically sculpted faces parroted each other’s faux earnesty. This was the tropical jungle of the top 1%, and Malcolm was lost in its foliage, in search of his mother very much like the lost child that he never stopped being. Despite the fact that he was now a grown man with a career and a home of his own, nothing much has changed. He was still very much the strange “privileged” child that he always was when his father was still around and when his father was no longer around. 

   He soon spotted Jessica, in a bright red dress, ever the centre of attention, holding what could likely be her 3rd or 4th drink of the afternoon. Standing next to his mother was the mayor of New York City, and beside him a man that Malcolm didn’t recognize. He was tall, with platinum blonde hair, a light cream coat to match and a tightly fitted light grey shirt beneath. As if his charming good looks and Kentucky Derby chic wasn’t enough to make the man stand out, he was also the only one wearing sunglasses indoors, but he was far too handsome and well dressed for anyone to challenge this slight peculiarity. Besides, someone wearing sunglasses indoors was far from the strangest behaviour seen at these events.  

    But then the man smiled. Oh that smile! 

   Even from afar, Malcolm was struck by the stranger’s bright charismatic smile and strong, sharp jawline. The man could easily be a model. This stirred up all sorts of feelings within Malcolm that he would rather not think about. Not now, not ever. Perhaps it was better to just leave and talk to his mother some other time, alone. He could no longer remember what he was seeking her out for anyway.

  Malcolm was about to turn around to leave when all of a sudden Jessica shouted out to him.  

“Malcolm! Darling! Come to mumsie!” Jessica called out, waving her free hand with gusto hoping to get her son’s attention. 

Too late. 

   With an awkward grin, Malcolm began to slowly walk towards his clearly intoxicated mother. He could see both the mayor’s eyes and the blonde stranger’s eyes now fixated on him as he made his way through the crowd, dreadfully stepping closer and closer. Despite not being able to see the other man’s eyes, Malcolm could feel the stranger glaring at him with a hunger akin to that of a wolf watching vulnerable prey. His hidden, imaginary gaze had a glint of mischief to it, an allure of danger, and shameless ravenous hunger. 

“Haha! Hey there! Finally found you, mother!” Malcolm said, false enthusiasm coating his words so thickly that he almost sounded sarcastic. “J-just the person I was looking for. Yup” he stuttered, popping the P at the end of the sentence out of sheer anxiety. 

Jessica suddenly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close before taking a sip from her day drink. She eagerly presented him to the two men before her, much to Malcolm’s embarrassment. 

“Now, allow me to introduce to you Malcolm Bright, my eldest.” Jessica beamed with motherly pride, her rosy cheeks aglow with the imitation of youth thanks to an abundance of alcohol and perhaps a pill or two. 

“Isn’t he just the cutest?” She added, soon giving Malcolm’s cheek a slight pinch. “And! He’s single too!” She said in a sing-song tone, before dropping her voice to a harsh whisper “He also works for the FBI!” Jessica winked mischievously “So if you’ve got any daughters or sisters, friends perhaps, cousins? He’s available!” she finished with a giggle.

Oh now he was really in for it. 

  Malcolm pushed his mother’s arm off his shoulders, whining like a 12 year old who’s just been humiliated in front of his peers. 

“Mother no! Come on!” he winced “You know I don’t work for the FBI anymore!” he said in a sort of whisper-yell, more to her than to the men watching them. 

   Jessica didn’t seem phased by this, probably too intoxicated to care anymore, she simply cleared her throat and turned to face her audience of two, addressing them directly once more. 

“Right, apologies. Malcolm here used to work for the FBI, but now he works as a consultant for the NYPD.” her smile was even more smug than before. “He wanted to be able to directly create change in his hometown. So he came back. I’m so proud of him!” She squealed with glee.

   Malcolm simply sighed in defeat, and he couldn’t help but notice that the man in sunglasses was now looking directly at him, or rather looking in his general direction as far as he could tell. The man’s lips were skewed into an almost sympathetic smirk. Could it be? Or was that simply in Malcolm’s imagination? It was too difficult to tell due to the rather large, dark sunglasses obscuring the mysterious man’s eyes.

 “Oh Malcolm my darling! I’m so sorry!” Jessica’s shrill voice suddenly interrupted Malcolm’s train of thought. 

 “Let mummy dearest go fetch you a drink. I can’t leave my special guest empty handed!” her voice once again trailed off in a sing-song manner, before she turned her attention to the crowd in search of hired waitstaff. 

   In the blink of an eye, Jessica had run off trying to flag down one of the hired help, and the mayor had not-so subtly run off right behind Jessica, leaving behind  Malcolm, the handsome stranger, and Malcolm’s very own awkwardly expressed anxiety coupled with years of sexual repression and trauma (or was it sexual repression due to trauma? Who knew). 

  “So you’re the lucky bastard that grew up in this place?” The voice that broke the thick awkward silence belonged to the tall blonde stranger. His voice was smooth and confident with a slight southern twang. 

  Malcolm’s profiling skills instantly kicked in, they were more of a reflex or impulse by now as opposed to a practised skill. It was rather difficult to turn his profile gaze off.

“Uh yeah,” he replied absentmindedly “Yeah, I was born into this home. Both me and my sister. We grew up here, left to study, and now keep coming back to visit our mother who’s still here. It’s been in our family a long time.” 

Malcolm shrugged. 

  He thought about where this stranger could be from, his profiling gaze at full force now. Clearly the man wasn’t from around here, not from New York, at least not a native. Perhaps if he was local, he had only been living here for a few years at most. The accent was subtle, strong enough to distinguish the man as southern, but gentle enough to make it difficult to pinpoint him to a particular state or region. 

  Then there were his clothes. Clearly the man had taste, and the means to which afford it. Up close, the light beige overcoat seemed to be a cashmere blend, tailored to fit the man like a glove. Even the pale grey shirt appeared to be made of fine quality breathable cotton, stretching over the man’s pecs just right. Malcolm’s eyes quickly moved further down the stranger’s body, towards the man’s trim waist, a pair of elegant beige slacks draped nicely over his long legs. This was aptly matched with a pair of brown leather dress shoes. Elegant, yet nondescript. Malcolm’s gaze turned back upward in one quick sweeping motion, only to find the man staring at him with a playful grin. 

“Were you checking me out?” said the man, a mischievous twinkle to his tone. 

  Malcolm’s face flushed and he looked away, an awkward chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Apologies.” Malcolm replied, “I’m a profiler. So uh… seeing all the small details in someone is kind of what I do.” he laughed again, nervous. 

“Bad habit!” Malcolm raised his hands in defeat. “Guilty as charged! But uh, when you do it for so long it just becomes second nature. I’m sorry.” 

  The man in sunglasses seemed amused. He nodded his head at the response and took a sip from his drink, it looked like sweet tea, there was little left now. 

“I see.” responded the man “And what can you say about me, now that you’ve had a good look? What secrets does my appearance reveal to you oh wise Sherlock?” he playfully stressed the -ck at the end and then smiled at Malcolm. 

Oh so the man was toying with him, and he was enjoying it too. 

  Malcolm quickly glanced around his shoulder before turning his attention back to the man in sunglasses and flashing him a sympathetic smile. 

“I’d much rather not. It’s my mother’s party after all, and she could still come back!” Malcolm shrugged “If she caught me profiling her guests I’d be cut from the will in the blink of an eye!” 

  The two shared a rather forced chuckle for the sake of social niceties, before a heavy silence took over. Malcolm simply stood there, nervously staring at the tall, handsome stranger in front of him. Every repressed urge Malcolm ever had was now anchoring him to this spot, infesting every fibre of his being  with regret, longing, and wanton lust. His muscles tensed, his face turned from flushed pink to scarlet red, and he swallowed his words in a hard lump. 

  Standing opposite to him was the man in sunglasses. He seemed cool as ice, limbs loose and relaxed with a cheeky grin on his face. Even without being able to see the man’s eyes, Malcolm knew he was being watched, he could feel it. The man was enjoying Malcolm’s reaction, feeding off his tension and internal conflict. Seconds felt like hours, time grinding down to an abysmal speed, and at last, this nightmarish spell was finally broken when the man reached out his right hand and placed it on Malcolm’s shoulder. Time resumed its normal pace. 

“So you were checking me out.” said the man, slowly rubbing his thumb against Malcolm’s neck, hand still placed firmly on the other’s shoulder.

“It's alright.” he continued, and took a step towards Malcolm, closing the space between them so he could lean in and whisper in the other’s ear. “You’re not so bad yourself Mr Bright Eyes.” 

  Malcolm took a step back, his crisp blue eyes blown wide open in shock. He couldn’t believe what was happening, though part of him was urging, begging, to go forward. There was so much Malcolm had denied himself, so much which he had already lost due to the unfairness life has dealt him. Vijay had moved on years ago, and along with him Malcolm lost what he believed had been the final opportunity to express this side of himself. Now, the man in sunglasses was offering him one more chance, and he simply couldn’t decline.

“Not here.” whispered Malcolm.

“Hm?” The man in sunglasses inched his face forward, Malcolm’s voice had been almost completely inaudible. 

“I said not here!” Malcolm raised his voice to a frustrated whisper. 

  He had finally gathered his wits, and made up his mind. He was tired of letting life take everything from him, turn his story into a tragedy. Perhaps it would only be tonight, but for once,  Malcolm would be selfish. He would finally have the courage to admit to himself that his attraction did not have limitations. He didn’t want to lose again. Not again. Not the way he lost his father, or Eve, or Vijay or his sanity. 

No. This time Malcolm was going to win.

The man in sunglasses raised a brow and his smile widened. 

“Alright then bright eyes, you lead the way.” 

“Don’t follow me now!” Malcolm hissed back. “Just um… Meet me outside.” 

The man simply laughed. 

“I understand. I’ll be seeing you then, Malcolm Bright.” he said with a flirtatious smirk. 

  Malcolm then gave him a subtle nod and walked away, manoeuvring his way back through the manor filled with busy, faceless bodies in fancy clothing, the same way he came in. 

Read the next chapter here.

[respectthepetty]

Since I decided the best way to make it through Our Skyy 2 with minimal damage is to drink my way through it, welcome to the fifth round of

CockTails in the Skyy!

GMMTV is taking the music club into the multiverse of cuteness, so this week's drink is For Goodness' Sake:

sake for Chinzhilla's hot pot adventure

more white wine for all the whining and pining the boys did

lemons, limes, oranges, grapes, and apple slices for the sweetness overload (I was going to comment about the variation of fruits, but I don't know the crowd's feelings on the word, so . . . *takes a big sip directly from the bottle*)

There will be a lot of singing. I fear sake was not the right choice. I did not think this through. I need something stronger like everclear, but it's too late now. *pushes the play button*

Bottoms up!

Glad to know that the gay sheets exist in every universe

And so does Scrabble-telling-the-plot

The colors being gray and brown so far better be a statement about how love brings color into our lives because these two were color-coded in the original, so if we can get The Gay Sheets™ and Scrabble in every universe, I want the colors in this one too!

That lion doll is the cutest merchandise, and I need it.

Oh, so Gun just gets the president position. Nepotism at its finest.

I know some people do not like the Our Skyy 2 theme song, but I LIVE FOR IT! It's Pitch Perfect but gayer.

Tinn's roar is adorable. Like a toddler, just looking cute and making cute sounds.

It's the first song, and it's barely the first part of the first episode. This is not looking good for me.

Damn! Tinn's mom did them like that?! Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas in more.

Does Tinn already like Gun?! He gave him the cape thingy in the gym and now the shaved ice.

ANOTHER SONG! Is there going to be a song each part of this. *doing mental calculation* Are there going to be eight songs?!

I like Tinn's wiggle when he is singing about squishing the bullfrog.

This is how I like my animation.

Another blowing-in-someone's-ear GIF for my collection.

"We'll get to date at the water park" - - Based on a true story via Pond and Phuwin's Little BIG World.

What am I supposed to do with these colors?! Does Tinn already like Gun?! TELL ME! He does, right?!

A song while dancing makes sense, but I'm upset. In my DJ Khaled voice "another one."

Mark looks delicious in this tux with his hair like that. De. Lish.

If SoundWin hadn't ruined my Star in My Mind SeanMaithee agenda, I would be thrilled about them now in this episode. But I'm petty, so I'm going to stay mad.

But I am happy for the TiwsonPor crew.

Another For Goodness' Sake because this is a lot of singing.

Why is this man coming with the logic of throwing out the sake instead of drinking it? WE DON'T WASTE LIQUOR IN THIS CLUB!

Kajorn likes Pat's accent?! Babe, that's so gay of you.

Damn it! I should've named the drink For Love's Sake.

Mark jogging in these sunglasses with those shorts and jacket = Delicious. I'm so excited to see him be a slut and film a sex tape in Only Friends. I pray he blackmails Neo's character with it. I deserve that treat.

I have never experienced such a tensive piggyback ride as the one being depicted on my screen right now. God, just make out already!

Por saying "get out" in English is feeding my soul because it sounds like me telling people to leave my office: "Get out. Okay. Bye!"

Tinn's shirt reads "Happier Times Are Coming" yet I don't believe it because there will be more singing.

This SoundWin umbrella scene is trying to win me over. It's almost working.

I think I forgot pivotal moments of the original series because I don't remember Gun asking Tinn directly during the questions if Tinn liked him, yet here, Tinn directly asks Gun. I like this!

Tiwson and Por talking as boyfriends is giving me everything I didn't think I needed.

How dare this installment make me think Tinn's mom was a sick when she was just asleep!

Giving SoundWin and TiwsonPor some of Tinn and Gun's moments is genius, like Sound not wanting this kiss to be in act with the red and blues, and Por disclosing he is already dating Tiw.

Tinn and Gun running around looking for each other is top-tier romance.

The moms stay doing the heavy lifting in this show. Which is why the dad, who never had a name, is MIA in this installment.

The boyfriend question!!!!! WITH THE FRIEND ZONE BARRIER!

MSP got that Lay's money too! We are rich, fam!

Why did I not think there would singing during the Aof tribute?! It's a music video, so of course there would be singing.

I feel this is GMMTV's way of thanking Aof for keeping the lights on and the fridge stacked these past years because this man is giving this company its life!

I don't need these dolls, but gosh darn it do I want them!

My School President should get a sequel called My Doctor Boyfriend, and they should meet Tan and Bun of Manner of Death (WHERE IS TRANSPLANT?!).

I have no idea what was happening with the colors, which bothers me (and there was singing in a show about singing), but the salute to some of Aof's greatest hits with Tinn and Gun being Med and Thun were an excellent choice. Because of that, I'm going to give this installment the score Vice Versa's could've had before it decided to LIE!

9/10 CockTails for being a solid offering that delivered the same story but with a few twists.

Because A Boss & A Babe just ended last week, getting an Our Skyy feature immediately after feels like it didn't end, and we are simply getting another episode, so I'll be watching (and judging) this in its normal Friday slot before I watch Be My Favorite, that way I'll be too tipsy to care how either of them turn out.

Will we finally get to know the backstory about Jack's previous relationship?

[wildbornsiren]

12 Days of Fluffmas!: Charity Auction || Javy “Coyote” Machado/F!Reader

Charity Auction

Summary: Your friend wins tickets to a special auction. One of the lots up for sale is particularly interesting. 

1,871 words Female/AFAB Reader. 

Warning: Awkward flirting. Unrealistic bidding. This is all fun. 

Notes: Is it December? No. Did I want to finish this challenge I set for myself? Yes. Day ten of the 12 days of Fluffmas!  Comments and reblogs fuel my writing, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most.

**Tag list is done. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ **

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.” You whisper playfully to Louise as you walk arm in arm into one of the local bars. The place had been decked out in twinkling lights and snowflakes, holiday music pumping through the speakers.

“I won tickets in the raffle, and I was told that Derek wouldn’t be interested in this.” Louise beams at you. You two had become fast friends at work, and she was someone who was so effervescent and bright it was hard to say no. “Plus, it goes to a good cause, we don’t have to bid on anything.”

There are a few donation buckets for local charities, as well as a couple signs that say that all profits of the evening will be donated. A few days ago, your office had held a holiday party, as well as a raffle for tickets to a special charity auction. Louise appears at your elbow holding two cocktails, handing you one.

“Let’s grab a table.” She says, her excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but grin.

Once you’re settled at a table, you get a chance to look around at the people packed into the bar. Most are dressed in their holiday finest, conversation and laughter adding to the buzzing energy in the room. There are servers wandering around, carrying trays of drinks and snacks. One walks by and you do a double take, nearly choking on your drink.

The server is tall, heavily muscle, stunningly handsome with a smile that was brighter than anything you dared to look at without sunglasses. He was also only wearing a pair of red velvet shorts with white faux fur at the waistband and hem.

“See something you like?”

Oh. His voice is warm and rich, slides down your back smooth and easy. Louise kicks you under the table and you squeak, realizing you’ve been staring at him mute. “Yes. Yeah, sure we’ll take some of that. Those.” You point to the appetizers on the tray he’s offering. “The snack. Snacks.”

His laugh is just as good as his voice, plush lower lip caught between his teeth when he winks, placing a plate on the table between you and Louse before walking off.

“Smooth.” Louise says. “Real smooth.”

“Did you see him?” You mutter, taking a sip of your drink. “Snack. Snack.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m not allowed to talk for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Sweetheart, that man is a whole fucking buffet.” Louise is tracking him around the room. “Hell, all the waiters are full on meals. Snacks serving snacks.”

You dare to look around, seeing that most of the servers were dressed like the one who had stopped by your table. There are a few women as well, wearing red tank camisoles and shorts trimmed in faux fur just like the men.

A bell clangs loudly, the conversation dying down. The lights in the bar go down, the music getting a little quieter. There’s a squawk of microphone feedback, the crowd protesting. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we at the Hard Deck would like to welcome you to our first annual Secret Santa Auction! My name is Penny, and I will be your MC for the evening.” Cheers rise, some whistling. You clap, getting caught up in the merriment.

“All evening you have seen what is up for auction. Our lovely servers have volunteered not only to help me host this evening, but their time as well.” The woman with the mic is all smiles and beautiful. “Those who place the highest bid on each of our lots…” she points to the servers who wave. “Will win a dinner date with the Helper Elf they win. Proceeds will be split between a few local charities.”

You can feel the grin spreading on Louise’s face, the weight of her gaze. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” She lights up. “I mean when’s the last time you went out on a date?”

“It wouldn’t be a date.” You motion between the two of you. “This, this is more of a date than what that would be.”

“Think of it as doing a good deed. All proceeds go to the sweet puppies and kittens.”

“You’ve lost your mind.” You mutter.

“You’re thinking about it. Chase that thought.” Louise grins.

“First up, we have a Helper Elf Bobby who is sweeter than sugar, and definitely on the nice list.” Penny’s voice amplified by the mic calls out. Standing next to her is a man, in the same shorts, but he’s wearing a t-shirt that matched the women’s camisoles. “A true Southern gentleman, he’s got a little spice but don’t worry, he’ll treat you like royalty. And, if you play your cards right, he’ll let you know what Bob really stands for.”

There’s some hooting and hollering, a few wolf whistles. The man, Bobby, next to Penny flushes darkly, but smiles. One of those smiles that is sweet but promises mischief.

“Bidding starts at 50 dollars!”

Bids climb quickly, a bidding war between two women. The bell clangs again, the final bid being $600. Bobby blows a kiss to the woman who placed the winning bid and disappears down a hallway.

“Please see Santa Mav, and we’ll get your gift all sorted.” Penny says, pointing to a man wearing a Santa hat and fake beard. “We’ve got two more Helper Elves waiting to make dinner plans with you, and then we’ll take a little break.”

“Our next Helper Elf is the beautiful Natasha!” A woman with dark hair and a wicked smile stands next to Penny. “If you’re lucky enough to join this spitfire for dinner, be on your toes. She’s got beauty and brains as well as an impressive right hook.”

There’s a few more good-natured catcalls and wolf whistles.

“A creature of legend, Phoenix will be someone you won’t ever forget. Bidding starts at $50 please!” The bids move even faster than they did with Bob, capping out at $750. Natasha waves at the winner, a deep flush on her cheeks before she’s disappearing down the same hall Bob had.

“Square up with Santa Mav!” Penny calls. “We have one more Helper Elf….” Protesting groans interrupt her. “For now, we’re going to let you all have a bit more fun before we bring out more beef.”

The server from earlier takes his place next to Penny. He towers over her, the twinkling Christmas lights making his skin nearly glow with warmth. His smile is so easy and gentle, and you swallow hard when his gaze seemingly lands on you. He winks, and butterflies explode in your tummy.

“There’s no way I can afford this.” You mutter, “I mean dinner with him is going to be ridiculous.”

“You’re getting it.” Louise grins. “Consider it my gift to you.”

“Louise,” you hiss.

“There’s a spark between the two of you. Let’s see what happens.” She grins, taking a sip of her drink. “It’ll be a great story to tell your parents. ‘This is my boyfriend, I won him in an auction.’”

You can’t help but laugh at that. You glance toward the makeshift stage and he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, warm brown eyes locked on you, his smile no less warm, but a bit softer.

“This is Helper Elf Javy.” Penny draws out his name, cheers rising once more. “While Southern boy Bob is all sugar, Javy is all spice. Hailing from New Orleans, this hot Cajun man will have you howling at the moon like a wild Coyote.” Once the yells had died down, Penny continues. “Bidding starts at $50.”

“Two hundred!” Louise yells.

“Two-fifty,” another woman calls.

“Three hundred.” A third enters the bidding war.

“Louise.” You glare at her, and she ignores you.

“Christmas and birthdays for the next ten years.” She mutters. “Six-fifty.”

“I’m splitting this with you.” You mutter.

 “Deal, but I’m not going on the date.” Louise grins, “plus it’s a tax write off.” She winks. The bid had had risen, “Eight hundred!” Louise yells.

“Sold!��� Penny calls out, ringing the bell. “Please see Mav and get everything settled.” Javy blows a kiss toward your table, and Louise ‘catches’ it, pressing it to your cheek.

“Come on,” Louise takes your hand, taking you over to the man dressed in the Santa suit. “Can we split this?”

He grins at the two of you, “Of course. Cash or cards ladies?” You pay your half with cash and a card, Louise paying off her half as well. “The winner can go ahead and join Coyote in the back room. Chat for a little bit and figure out some of the details.” He hands the two of you receipts.

“Now, go get your date.” Louise teases. “I’ll keep the table for us.”

You wander down the hallway, the noise of the bar fading away. You knock on a door labeled with a ‘staff only’ sign, and it opens. Javy is standing in front of you, that wide, beautiful smile on his face.

“I was hoping I’d see you.” He offers his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you further into the room. The door closes behind you. “If this wasn’t your type of thing, I was going to try to catch you before you left.”

“It’s not,” you laugh softly. “My friend won tickets to the auction, and she decided that you would be a good person to set me up with.”

“That’s a good friend.”

You introduce yourself properly, and the way he says your name makes your breath hitch. “I think it’s really sweet that you’re volunteering yourself.”

“It’s for a good cause.” Javy says. “When can I take you to dinner?” He pauses, flashing another one of those mega-watt smiles. “I mean, I’ve got a couple more hours here, and we could get something to eat afterward.”

“Is there anything open that late?”

“Sugar,” he says softly, and you look up from your shoes. “I’m asking you out now, not just for the dinner.”

“Really?”

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin up. His eyes are warm and gentle, his smile no less radiant, but far gentler. “Yes, really. I nearly forgot my name when I saw you walk in. I switched with one of the others so I would be able to talk to you at the table.” Javy’s touch is so warm and gentle, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“I would like to get something to eat with you. Tonight.” You say, the words coming out in a jumbled rush. “And maybe two weeks from now. Saturday night.”

“I’d like that.” Javy says, writing his name with yours under the date that you tossed out for the auction dinner.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens slightly, a man sticking his head in. “We’ve got fifteen more minutes, Javy. I can’t stall for you any longer buddy.”

“I’ll be right there Rooster.” Javy says. The door closes, and he turns to you. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot after?” He shifts his weight, and you smile. It’s cute that this massive man is acting shy.

/end

[becci-chan]

For the @stevetonygames 2023 Team Past Square "Disguise"

Fairy Godmother fic for @oluka! The prompt I used was: "Steve and Tony, on a day off, run into each other at a gay bar. Oops."

~~~

Among The People

~1.5k words

Summary: It was Pride Month and it was his first one since he was thawed. Pride hadn’t even existed back in the 40’s, but he had heard about it on the news the other day and was immediately intrigued. Without the shield and suit, he was just a guy anyway. A gay guy.

You can read the story under the cut or on AO3. :)

Steve pulled his cowboy hat deeper as he moved through the crowd. He was also wearing a rainbow-coloured feather boa a guy had given him when he had entered the bar. Steve had never felt more out of place yet so part of a group as he looked around the room.

It was Pride Month and it was his first one since he was thawed. Pride hadn’t even existed back in the 40’s, but he had heard about it on the news the other day and was immediately intrigued. Without the shield and suit, he was just a guy anyway. A gay guy.

Steve had learnt not everything was rainbows and flowers for people like him now, but at least you wouldn’t have to deal with terrible consequences if someone saw you kissing a guy on the street. Especially in New York.

Steve was sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, and just took the whole – beautiful yet strange – situation in. People were drinking, playing pool or darts, and some were even dancing. Steve noticed how close everyone seemed with whoever they were spending their time with. How ordinary touches seemed.

“I saw you looking all hot and lonely over here. Wanna dance?” someone suddenly asked Steve and when he looked to the right he saw a black man in a rainbow-coloured tank top that hardly covered his chest next to him. He smiled brightly and offered his hand to Steve, not to shake it, but to take him to the dance floor.

With a quick glance around, Steve made a decision. He took the man’s hand, turned it around and gave it a quick kiss. The man laughed in surprise and Steve hoped he wouldn’t take his words personally when he finally said, “I don’t dance and I quite like my solitude right now, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“That’s alright, cowboy. I hope you’ll find whoever you’re looking for.”

“I’m not looking–“

“It’s Pride. Nobody should go home alone,” he said with a smile and patted Steve’s shoulder as he left.

Steve sighed and turned back to see the bartender sliding a clear drink towards him.

“I didn’t order that,” he said in confusion.

“It’s on the house. You look like you need something stronger than a beer,” the bartender said and winked at him.

“Thanks,” Steve said and held up his glass in salute before emptying it in one go. Vodka, his mind provided. It was sharp and minty and would not get him drunk like anything else he could order here.

“Can you give me another one of these, please?” he asked.

“Anything you want,” the bartender said and handed Steve another vodka.

He left it on the counter for later and watched the bartender for a while. It was mesmerizing seeing him mix cocktails while he talked to people.

“Hey handsome, would you mind company?” a man asked Steve from behind and then sat down next to him without waiting for an answer.

Then the man turned to him and while Steve couldn’t see his eyes through the colourful sunglasses, he could see how his eyebrows shot up in an instant.

“Steve?!”

“Hey Tony,” Steve said with a smile. “Surprised to see me here?”

“More surprised I didn’t recognize you from behind.”

“Have you been checking out my ass?” Steve asked and wanted to bite his tongue after. Did he really want to know the answer to that?

“All the time,” Tony said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes in amusement and then slid his vodka to Tony as a peace offering. Or maybe he just wanted Tony to stop talking about his butt. Tony took the vodka without a word and drank it.

Tony was sitting close to him and it made Steve feel more comfortable. He didn’t want them to be distanced from each other. He watched Tony move his sunglasses up into his hair and Steve was glad he could see his eyes. It was a lot easier for him to understand people like that. He also knew Tony liked to shield himself with his glasses.

“Happy Pride, by the way. How’s your first one going?” Tony asked and Steve could tell he was actually concerned about Steve not having a good time.

“It’s… nice. Really nice. Overwhelming and confusing, but yeah. Everyone seems so at ease with themselves, it helps me to keep calm.”

“I’m glad,” Tony said. “Would be a shame if your first impression was a bad one.”

“And yet your friend refused the offer to dance from a really handsome guy,” the bartender suddenly chimed in.

Steve glared at him and Tony laughed, “Yeah, he’s not the biggest fan of dancing.”

There was a gleam in his eyes Steve couldn’t place until Tony leaned so close to him, Steve could almost feel his breath on his cheek. He swallowed.

Then Tony asked, “Would you… not dance with me, but sway a little to the music? Very low pressure and commitment.”

And all Steve could do was nod.

“Perfect,” Tony said and it almost sounded like a purr.

He offered Steve his hand and this time, he took it and let Tony lead him to the middle of the room where a few other people were dancing already.

Steve and Tony didn’t dance. They simply swayed to the slow music, stayed close to each other and let their hands travel a little. Steve felt the sudden urge to kiss him, but held back. Not because he thought somebody would judge them, but because he didn’t want to share it with others. It was supposed to be a private moment.

Tony also seemed comfortable with the way they moved and what they were doing. Steve briefly wondered if Tony would care if someone recognized him. The answer was probably no, because he was a celebrity and used to that. As long as people still minded their own business, it was probably fine.

After a while, they went back to the bar and ordered a cocktail. They sat next to each other and one of Tony’s hands landed on Steve’s thigh. It was just a solid presence for a bit, but then Tony started stroking his hand slowly up and down, and Steve sighed, content. He truly enjoyed this.

They talked while drinking and Steve couldn’t imagine a better way to spend this night. Tony was a genius, superhero, and billionaire, but in this moment he was just a guy in a gay bar – Like everyone else in the room.

“Is there anything else you want from tonight?” Tony asked at some point and Steve swallowed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to voice his wishes, but Tony made it very easy for him when he said, “I can only speak for myself, but I would love to take you home tonight.”

There was a foolish part of Steve that wanted to say We live together, but obviously that wasn’t what Tony had just put on the table. It was new and exciting and Steve wanted to keep this feeling for as long as he could.

“I want to kiss you,” Steve finally confessed and Tony immediately leaned in until Steve touched his chest and gently pushed him away. “But not here. Somewhere private. I don’t wanna share this with a bunch of random people.”

“Fine with me,” Tony said with a smile. “Then how about we go home now?”

“Sounds perfect,” Steve said and put a few bills on the counter to pay for the drinks. Tony did the same and Steve knew he was tipping the bartender really well, probably for telling him about Steve’s night without being asked.

On the way out, Steve spotted the guy from earlier who had asked him for a dance. The man winked at Steve and gave him an approving thumbs-up. Steve smiled at him and nodded, and noticed that the man had his arm slung around someone’s waist in a more than casual way. Nobody should go home alone, he remembered the man’s words.

They got into a cab and Tony gave the driver the address. Then he handed him a bunch of bills and said, “I’ll pay you again when we arrive if you leave us alone during the drive”. A nod was all Tony got before the driver started typing in the address.

A moment later, Steve had Tony’s entire attention again and the smile on his face made Steve’s heart beat a lot faster.

“I think you owe me a kiss,” Tony said, grinning.

“I think you’re right,” Steve grinned back.

Then Tony grabbed Steve by the feather boa around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate a single second before licking at Steve’s lips, coaxing him to open up for him. Steve happily complied and knew it would be a great ride home. Pride was truly a special occasion.