#High-End Vacation Rental | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month

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Ride ‘Em, Cowgirl! (Cowboy!Ace x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Ace D. Portgas x Black!Fem!Reader (Strangers to FWBs to Lovers)

Synopsis: As the author of some famous smutty romance novels, you decide to take a vacation in the countryside for a while to get over your breakup and work on your new book but you suffer from writer’s block. However, a meet-cute situation with a sexy farmhand who lives next door might be able to help you kill two birds with one stone.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Author!Reader; Cowboy!Ace; Sexual Tension; Highkey Flirting; Tongue Kissing; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Clit Stimulation; Doggystyle; Nipple Piercings; Cowgirl/Riding; Ace Puts His Hat on Your Head While You Take His Big D*ck; Dom!Ace/sub!Reader; Reader Cums 2x; Creampie; Strangers to FWBs to Lovers; Aftercare

Writer’s Note: I’ve had a MAJOR cowboy brain rot all summer & decided to write something as the season is ending. I love me some Ace 🥺🥺 him & his big, silly, sexy ass…I miss him. He didn’t d*e in my universe. ENJOY LOVELIES!! 💋💋🫶🏾🫶🏾 -Jazz

********

While the countryside is beautiful, the absence of reception is not.

You sit in the driver’s seat of your rental, the AC cranked up high though you’re still sweating from anxiety and panic. Your pits are perspiring despite the cute little sundress you threw on to match your sunhat and sunglasses. You felt like a movie star boarding the train here, but now, all of that feeling of glamor is gone.

A thrush forest and fields of land surround you on the dirt road you’ve been driving down for over fifteen minutes now since you got off the train that put you in the countryside. You had originally come out here to indulge in nature, thinking it would help clear your head for your new book and heal your heart over your recent breakup that caused your writer’s block.

You’re a city girl, born and raised miles away from here. Despite your cute little one-bedroom-one-bathroom studio apartment, you get tired of being surrounded by skyrise buildings and smoggy streets when you write. You thought a change of scenery would do you some good, especially to distract you from the sight of the same couch and bed where your ex used to make love to you on.

But now, after seeing nothing but trees, grass, and cows for the past five minutes since you got lost, you’re becoming sick of it. You haven’t seen a single person or building since the train station!

“Dammit,” you huff, begrudgingly tossing your phone into the passenger’s seat with your laptop case and suitcase. You hate getting lost! You must’ve taken a left instead of a right and then steered off the trail your GPS set for you.

You keep the AC and gas running as you get out of the car. The heat immediately slaps you in the face and the sun glares at you, causing you to slide your sunglasses on top of your head used to hold your braids back onto your eyes. You shield the hot rays with your hand and look down the road. Nothing. Not even a barn. You’re completely stranded.

No people. No reception. You were never going to make it to that sweet, quaint little Airbnb you rented. You were scrolling on Booking.com you’ve seen so many commercials for three weeks ago when you came across the little cabin with central air, a wine cellar, and a back patio overlooking a lake. It is only ten miles from town and near some hiking trails for running.

You booked it immediately and spoke to the owner, a sweet Southern widow who let you rent it for the entire week for a cut because of your books. “I love your work!” she gushed over the phone. “I’m so honored you’re choosin’ my little home to help you write a new book! I’ll stack more wine in the cellar just for you!”

You may never get to enjoy that wine, the lake, or some sunbathing on the patio. You lean against your carhood, hopeless and exhausted. Maybe this will be a good inspiration for your book: a city girl gets lost in the countryside and realizes that a change of scenery can’t fix heartbreak. Then she dies of a broken heart (and starvation) in her rental and when someone finally finds her, she’ll be nothing but bones because the cows ate her.

There your whacked-out mind goes. You tilt your head to the sunny, blue sky, hoping God can see you and have mercy on your soul. “God,” you groan. “Please just send me someone.”

“Hey, there!” a sudden cheery, male voice chirps from behind you. You shriek and jump, turning around to face the stranger. “Shit!” you gasp, putting a hand on your jumping heart. “You scared the hell outta me!”

When your heart finally settles down, you realize just how cute the stranger is. He is tall and fit judging by how tight his black V-neck is under his flannel. A cowboy hat hits low on his nest of black curls and an adorable smattering of freckles adorn his cheeks. His jeans are just as tight with a large belt buckle on the front of his leather belt and his cowboy boots are scuffed.

It’s like he stepped out of a girl’s wettest Western dream, especially with the dog tags hanging from his thick neck and the leather bracelet on his wrist. He is hotter than the sun you’re standing in.

“Apologies,” he says, stifling a chuckle with his hands up. “I promise I don’t mean no farm. I just happened to see you just sittin’ here on the road and couldn’t help but wonder if you’re stealin’ my job.” His brown eyes are filled with humor and playfulness.

“Job?” you parrot, confused. “What are you—“

Suddenly, the hot stranger places two fingers on each hand in his mouth and blows a loud, shrill whistle. Immediately, each of the cows grazing in the grass and wandering in the road gather together near him. “C’mon, y’all!” he shouts. “Over here by the pretty truck! Out of the pretty lady’s way!”

You flush at his compliment but don’t focus too much on it. You’re too busy focusing on the cherry red pickup truck with the muddy wheels that you now see some yards behind your rental. How did you not hear him drive up?

The cows follow the cowboy and surround his truck, mooing and chewing. He leaves them there and comes running back to you, panting. “Sorry ‘bout that. Them cows ain’t too bright sometimes. One left the farm down the road and all of ‘em followed, so I got sent out to get ‘em.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, that takes care of one problem. Thanks.”

He raises one eyebrow, curious. “One problem?” he ponders aloud. “Anything I can help you with, miss? Tell me if I’m wrong but ya look kinda…” He pauses, looking for the right word.

“Lost?” you sigh. He sniggers, shaking his head. “Distressed.” You take a moment to think about this. You really shouldn’t tell him since he’s a total stranger despite his cute freckles and eyes that remind you of a puppy’s. “Well, I am,” you sigh. “But nothing I can’t handle. Thank you again, Mr. uh….”

The cowboy smiles brightly at you and it’s like a punch in the face. He is quite handsome. “Ace,” he replies. “Ace D. Portgas. No, ‘Mr’, please. Just Ace.”

He puts out one of his big ringed hands for a shake. You slowly take it in your smaller one, noticing how calloused and rough his palm is…and how warm and strong it is. “Ace then,” you say, quickly pulling away. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N.”

Ace’s eyes fill with recognition immediately at the sound of your name. “The writer?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. You immediately break out into a smile, happy with the recognition. “So you’ve heard of me.”

He nods, shoving a hand in the pocket of his jeans. “Yeah, your stuff is pretty popular with the female population over here. I’ve seen some of your books in the town’s local bookstore before. Where ya from?”

“[City Name],” you reply, beaming from the newfound information You always love to hear about people loving and reading your work. Ace hums, nodding in understanding. “Ah, so you’re a city girl,” he draws, his Southern accent making a big appearance here. It makes something in your stomach grow warm.

You place your hands on your hips, pursing your lips. “Are you about to give me that ‘the country is better than the city’ crap?” you playfully scoff.

Ace gapes at you, playing into your mock disagreement. “What?! No way….except we’ve got better people.” You laugh, giving him that one. “Oh, that I agree with! Everyone here is so nice!”

Literally everyone. The train conductor, the workers at the train station, the nice man who held the door for you…maybe even this sexy cowboy. It must be the clean air and environment without the buildings, hustle, and crowds of people. “So what’s a talented gal like you doin’ all the way down here?” He curiously asks. “Ya got family here?”

Despite your situation, you find yourself enjoying conversing with Ace. It’s easy, unlike with your ex. “I’m writing a new book at the Airbnb I rented…which I’m no closer to getting to ‘cause I can’t follow directions.”

Ace’s smile fades. “Really? Where’s it at? Maybe I can help ya get there.” Your blood pressure rises as your brain begins to go through every possible reason to not give this man the address to your weekend home. “Um….”

Realization flickers in Ace’s eyes and he nods in understanding. “I get it: stranger danger. If ya want, I can tell you the directions and let ya drive off. Promise.” He puts his right hand up as if he’s on the stand at a trial. “I only wanna help a celebrity out.”

His friendly smile and nature seem genuine despite that twist in your stomach telling you differently. However, you don’t hear any warning signs blaring in your head and your gut isn’t giving you that kick of intuition. Throwing caution to the wind, you tell him: “It’s on 21 North Oakwood Lane.”

You watch as Ace’s eyes widen in excitement like a kid on Christmas. “Forreal?! That’s where my farm is at! I bet my neighbor is the one you’re rentin’ from! Mable Chestnut ring any bells?”

Your brain immediately reacts to the Airbnb owner’s name. “Yeah, that’s her!” you exclaim. “You live there too?” He nods, beaming brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am, and you’re a long way away from that, honey. You must’ve taken a wrong turn completely.”

You huff, feeling the stress return. Of course, you took a wrong turn. Unbeknownst to you, Ace feels bad for the pretty woman standing in front of him and instantly wants to make her feel better. So he clears his throat, gaining your attention. “I’ll tell ya what: if you want, I can hop in my pickup truck and lead you to your place. I know these trails like the back of my hand.”

“I’m sure you do,” you reply, laughing slightly. “You’re a cowboy, aren’t you?” His lips twist in a lopsided smirk that makes your insides curl. “Yes, ma’am. That and a farmhand. I wrangle horses, cows, bulls, anythin’ you can think of. My job requires that I know the ins and outs of my town.”

You can tell he’s telling the truth, but the logical part of you is still wary. “I dunno,” you admit, awkwardly playing with the hem of our dress. “I mean, you seem sweet and legit, but I barely know you and—“

“Oh, you found ‘em!” a voice rings out. You turn, seeing a blue truck with a wooden crate stopping next to Ace’s truck. An older couple with silver-white hair and matching boots come sliding out of the front, looking relieved to see their cows. The wife, in her flowery skirt, whistles at the cows. “My precious babies! Get y’all asses on that damn truck!”

She begins berating them as the animals climb up the wooden ramp to the cart, piling in one after the other. Her husband, wearing jeans, flannel, and a cowboy hat, helps her by whistling to them. Once they’re all in, he locks the crate and walks up to Ace with his wife, giving you a hello as they do. “Oh, Ace, what would I do without you?” The wife sighs, taking the young cowboy’s hand in her wrinkled ones. “I’ll have to bake you more of that apple pie to thank you.”

Ace smiles, tipping his hat at them. “It’s no problem, Mr. And Mrs. Phelps. Just doin’ my job.” Mr. Phelps pats him on the back, laughing. “Well, you prove to be fit for your job every time, young man.”

“I’ll deliver the pie tomorrow,” Mrs. Phelps says with a wink. “You still live at 20 Oakwood Lane?” Ace nods and thanks them before the old couple walk back to their truck, get in, and go driving off with their cows in the back.

He turns back to you, a smug smile on his face. With defeat, you give in to his proposal. “Okay, fine,” you sigh. “We’ll try it your way.”

He grins, bowing slightly in thanks, grateful for you putting your trust in him. But it ain’t like you’ve got a choice at this point. But if you had said no, maybe he would’ve called the cops or something to help you. He seems like a genuine, sweet type of man…but then again, you thought the same about your ex before he cheated. “I won’t letcha down, missy. Now let’s getcha to your luxury suite!”

He turns and races off to his truck. As he does, the back of his flannel floats up, giving you a peek of his backside. Your mouth waters at the sight of his plump, firm ass in those jeans. Maybe you will have a nice time here after all.

After getting in your car and following Ace’s truck down the road, he takes you in the right direction that your GPS states. You decided to turn it on just to make sure Ace wasn’t taking you somewhere else. The drive is only eight minutes and finally, trees fall away to a beautiful clearing of brick homes and farms down a dirt road.

You finally come to your Airbnb and it’s just as cute in real life as it was in its photos. The white tiled roof and window outline combined with the buttery yellow color of the outside of the house reminds you of a frosted cake as you park your car in front of it. The house is located on ten acres of land that the owner owns and tends to, including a fruit orchard that you most definitely will enjoy tomorrow.

You go up to the azalea bushes planted at the white picket fence surrounding the cobbled stone walkway and steps. Bending down, you move one of the stones–a gray one shaped like a heart–and take the house key from under it. Ms. Chestnut made sure to tell you where to find it before she left.

Clutching the key to your chest, you turn and find Ace lugging your bags out of the backseat of your car, including your laptop case. As he does, you watch as his arms flex enticingly so. He has taken off his flannel, probably too hot in the afternoon heat to wear even the lightest of long-sleeved tops.

“Aaaand here we are,” he announces, bringing the luggage up to you. You go to take your suitcase, feeling bad for his work. “Oh, you don’t have to—“

“Nonsense! It’s barely heavy for me.” He gives you a wink before nodding at the locked door, looking just as excited as you.

You snort and unlock the door, giving way to a gorgeous living room with hardwood floors and a sunroom that meets an expensive-looking dining room filled with fine China dishes. On the left is an older-looking kitchen with a cartoon cat cuckoo clock and an adorable fruit-shaped cooking set and a washroom that leads outside to the back patio.

Ace whistles approvingly, looking around the house. “Beautiful place. I can see why ya rented here to write your new book. What’s it about, if I may ask?” He runs his boots on the ‘Welcome’ rug at the door before coming in with your luggage. He hands you your laptop before placing your suitcase and bag down gently on the floor.

You don’t know why you tell him, but something inside you tells you that it’s okay to do so: “Heartbreak.”

You watch as the cowboy pauses and then slowly turns to stare at you. You clear your throat to appear neutral and blasè like your past relationship and how it ended don’t still sting. “I didn’t just come here to write,” you explain. “I also came here to clear my head over my recent breakup. Working helps.”

Ace’s expression is unreadable. He stands with his hands in his pockets, his jaw working slightly. You now can see that he’s chewing gum. “Long term?” he asks. You nod, fighting back tears. “Three years.”

Three years of what you thought was the beginning of forever for you. You had met his parents; took trips with him; moved him into your apartment a year after you started dating. It was so nice when he came home to you after his shifts as a lawyer, the both of you snuggling with takeout and puffing on some weed to calm the nerves. You loved those nights with him.

But then those nights became ones of loneliness and suspicion when he wouldn’t come home till the AM. You started fighting and growing more apart until one day, while he was showering, you answered his phone on a call meant for him. Clearly, because the girl on the other line was asking you if you were still on for her place that night thinking you were your man…who apparently wasn’t just your man.

After denying it, he admitted to sleeping with his coworker for two months. “You were so busy with your books!” he had argued. “I needed you too, Y/N!”

Of course, that didn’t fly with you. As a grown-ass man, he was more than capable of communicating with you and never did. So, after three years, you ended your relationship and he moved out within a week. Learning to live without him is more than hard, but you’re learning with every step.

Ace whistles as if winded by your answer. “I’m very sorry to hear that, but one thing I know is that you won’t get no clearin’ your head out in the city. No offense.” He gives you a joking smile that brightens the room. “None taken,” you giggle. “That’s why I came out here.”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “That was a good idea. You may never wanna go home though.” He stands there like a tall, sexy tree you’d like to climb. His personality and energy only make your attraction to him much worse.

You don’t know if he feels the tension in the air too, but his smile fades and his eyes fill with a spark you think you just imagine. Finally, he clears his throat and plasters on a smile. “Well, I’ll leave ya to it then. If you ever need anythin’, just gimme a knock across the way.”

You walk him to the door and he points down the road at a small ranch with a red barn where you hear distant neighing horses. “That little ranch next to the red barn is me,” he explains. You could walk there with how close he is. Knowing that makes your stomach twirl.

All you can do is nod and he bids you farewell before walking down the steps in his boots. You watch him, eyeing his flexing back muscles, suntanned shoulders, and the dusting of freckles on his skin like star constellations. He is almost down the road when you give in to your urges.

“Ace, wait!” you call. He stops, turning to face you. “Do you have a CashApp? Or I can pay you in cash.”

But the cowboy shakes his head, smiling at you. “Keep it,” he says. “Just lookin’ out for a pretty woman.” He tips his hat at you, that spark returning in his eyes. “Enjoy your stay, Y/N.”

Then he turns and walks off, taking that beautiful back and juicy ass with him. You decide right then that you’ll definitely enjoy your stay here with that cowboy being just one knock away.

*********

“Fuck, Y/N, you are soooo lucky!” Nami whines into your ear. “I wish I was laying out in the sun by the wate with my tits out too!”

“My tits aren’t out,” you snort. “I’m just in a bikini top.” You take a sip of your Moscato chilling in a glass of ice cubes and sliced oranges, sighing peacefully at the crisp, fruity taste.

Placing it back on the small table with your laptop, you look down at your phone screen where your beautiful, redheaded friend’s face is. It is the next day of your writer’s vacay and you’re spending it stretched out on the back patio in your bikini and sunglasses, lounging on a beach chair near the lake that sparkles and shimmers in the summer sun.

“That still counts!” Nanami argues. “You’ll get a tan for days! Why couldn’t you take me with you?” You scoff, rolling your eyes behind your ray bans. “Girl, aren’t you on an anniversary trip up in the mountains with your woman? Your Airbnb is just as beautiful as mine, plus you got a great view!”

Nami, your best friend and soulmate, is out in the mountains with her long-term girlfriend and soon-to-be-fiance, Robin who is so beautiful that you swore you had a crush on her when you first met her.

Both, along with a couple of other friends you’ve made over the years, surrounded you with love and support during your breakup. Zoro and Sanji, the married couple you’ve been tight with since you moved into your complex, even told you they’d beat your ex up if you asked them to. Of course, you said no, but you fantasize about it to make you laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s raining here,” Nami sighs, laying back on a pillow. “We’ve been cooped up in the house all day, but we do have a dinner reservation at a five-star restaurant tonight that’ll make up for it. She knows how to make me happy.” She breaks out into a dreamy smile you know all too well about.

“You’re so lucky,” you sigh, envious of your friend’s love. “You guys have been together for a long time though. Five years! That’s crazy!”

Nami nods, still looking in love and happy. “And it takes a lot of work, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. You’ll find that again, too Y/N…with the right person, of course. That scummy ex of yours was just a closed door.”

You peer out over the water, seeing a sliver of Ace’s farm through the thrush, green forest. From this angle, you can see the wagging tails of horses in their shed and hear the crowing of roosters. “I guess,” you sigh.

As if reading your mind, Nami discusses the man who has been on your mind since yesterday. “Well, how ‘bout you do some practice on that cute cowboy you told me about?” she suggestively purrs. “You are there for a week. Why not use it to dust off that–”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you cut her off, putting up a hand. “I’m not having any kind of sex with a stranger, no matter how cute or sweet he is. Besides, I don’t even know how old he is! He could be a fuckin’ teenager for all I know.”

Despite you making logical excuses for not going over to his house and hopping on that man’s dick right now, you still can’t stop yourself from thinking about him. Yesterday afternoon, you went out into town to shop for some cute dresses and groceries for meals (including the wine), thinking this would help distract you from nasty thoughts of him.

But alas, when night fell and you finished your glass of wine and your much-needed blunt to end the evening, your dreams were all about him whispering dirty, sweet nothings to you in his Southern drawl while he bounced you on his cock. You were so pent up that you had to relieve yourself with the toy you packed and then take a cold shower…both did NOTHING to tame you.

You want him bad. You’ve never felt such an attraction to someone before. Not since your ex, anyway. It’s exciting but also alarming. Your plan wasn’t to use a man to get over your breakup or writer’s block. Speaking of which, you haven’t written much of a first draft for your book yet. You most that you’ve gotten is a plot outline and you feel even that is lackluster.

“Well, who is he?” Nami pushes. “You didn’t even tell me his name!” You once again roll your eyes and lower your voice as if the cowboy can hear you over the lake: “It’s Ace D. Portgas.”

Nami’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Omigod!” she squeals into your ears, making you jump. “Y/N, I know him! You remember my friend Luffy’s adopted older brother? The one who owns his own farm?”

Your mind traces back to the moment any of this was revealed to you and you realize that it was a year ago during a trip to the zoo where Luffy gushed over the horses and said his brother trains them. “Oh, my God, that’s him?!” you gasp, laughing in disbelief. “The wealthy one? What a small world!”

“Now you have a reason to talk to him, girl!” Nami encourages you. You go over to his place, ask him for a drink, and spend the rest of your trip in his bed…and then you’ll take me on a cruise when he cuffs you.” She winks at you, but you know she’s serious.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you chuckle. “He’s a nice guy, but I didn’t come here to hook up with no cowboy. I came here to relax and write my book.” The redhead pulls a look, rolling her eyes. “And what better way to do all of that than get with a country boy? Besides, that would make for a great story.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Whatever,” you scoff as she giggles. “Just go and tell Robin I said hi. And if I do happen to build a relationship with the cowboy, she’ll be the one I take on a cruise.” Nami, with her dramatic ass, gapes at you. “Take that back!”

“Love you, byeeee!” You blow her a kiss before ending the FaceTime call and lowering it facedown on the table to avoid the sun burning the screen. You take another sip of your wine and then hunker back down to your book that you’re no closer to outlining.

So far in the plot, a woman named Suzi has received notice of a house she has inherited from her deceased grandmother whom she realizes has many secrets, including setting her up to marry Johnson, a wealthy owner of a wine garden that her grandma somehow knows.

But all those ideas go down the drain when you happen to look up and see the man who has been haunting your frequent dreams. And he’s shirtless. Though his back is to you, that doesn’t mean Ace’s back doesn’t make your stomach flutter like it’s filled with butterflies. He is busy tending to his horses, filling their drinking station with fresh water and cleaning out bails of old hay. His arm and back muscles flex in the sun that glints off of the sweat dripping off of his tanned skin. “Oh, fuck,” you exhale.

He’s a beautiful, beautiful man. You can almost taste the sweat off of his skin as you lick up his skin and neck. His back is tatted with a purple skull with a bone caught between his teeth. Your body reacts just as your mind does, arousal making you throb. “Dammit,” you sigh, slamming your laptop closed. You definitely can’t write in this condition. This man is making everything too damn hard for you!

Now you know another distraction won’t do anything for you. You need to just swallow your pride and fear of rejection, and just go over there!

To not make it seem like you just came straight out the house to see him, you go inside to strip off your bikini and change into some sneakers, running shorts, and a sports bra that holds up your girls. You take your phone and house key with you before cutting through the woods for a short time towards Ace’s place, lightly jogging as you do. The sun glints through the trees and sweat begins to gather on your forehead and under your boobs.

Finally, you cut through the woods to the front of Ace’s house and nearly scream at the sudden sight of a caramel-colored horse galloping in front of you, nearly knocking you over. “Suzi!” Ace calls. “Dammit, don’t run in the street!” He whistles, causing the horse to stop before she gets any farther away and flips her tail.

You turn, finding the shirtless cowboy standing behind you. You nearly combust at the sight of his cut abs, the silver bars in his pink nipples, and the scattering of tattoos on his skin. One is of a skull engulfed in flames on his shoulder and the others are two names inked across his wrists.

“Oh, hey!” he chirps, looking happy to see you despite your short-circuiting brain. “What a surprise. You decided to take a break to come see little ol’ me?”

He puts his hands on his hips, drawing your eyes to his V-line. “I-I was just takin’ a jog,” you stammer. “And I just wanted to thank you again for helping me yesterday. Sorry I was so hesitant.” Ace looks happy nonetheless and you think you even see his eyes quickly trace over your outfit. “Don’t even apologize. You enjoyin’ yourself so far?”

He snaps at Suzi who comes tottering up to him, her hooves clicking. You nod, admiring the pretty steed. “Yeah, you’ve got a nice little home here. Went out shopping yesterday and did some writing today.”

The cowboy nods, petting Suzi’s side. “Uh-huh, I saw you soakin’ up those rays earlier…n-not that I was starin’ at you! I just happened to look over and see you.” His face grows adorably red at his jumbled words. It only makes him more endearing to you.

“I get it,” you giggle. “I came over to pay you for yesterday, but if you still aren’t gonna take my money, maybe I can pay you back with lunch or a drink?”

The words just slip out, possibly because of how confident you feel over Ace’s blush and nervous blunder. You don’t know what you expect, but definitely not what he says next:

“Oh,” is all he replies with.

The silence that follows makes you want to die. “O-Or not if you’re busy,” you quickly add. “Or if you don’t want to! I just wanted to repay you.” You bite your lip to shut yourself up, feeling as if you never should’ve said anything. That damn Nami! Why did she have to encourage you to do this?

But as luck would have it, Ace agrees. “I was gonna say yes to lunch, but I’m a little booked right now with the farm. I’ve got people tourin’ my place tomorrow, so I need to make sure it sparkles. Does dinner work better for ya?”

The horse’s tail flips as if to say, ‘Say yes, stupid!’ and you nod, speechless. “Dinner sounds great,” you reply, doing your best to not break out into a big, goofy smile. The caramel horse softly winnies and Ace snorts, patting the horse’s behind. “This is Suzi,” he chuckles. “She’s extremely dramatic. I got two other ones at the stable.”

You smile at the horse, admiring the way her blonde mane looks in the sun. “She’s beautiful.” Unbeknownst to you, Ace admires you admiring the horse. “You like horses?” You nod, gently patting Suzi’s soft fur. “Love ‘em. I wanted to be a cowgirl every Halloween.”

“You wanna see the others? I can give ya a tour of the farm, if ya want.”

“Alright, alright, we’re comin’!” he calls. “And these are my Stallions, Sam and Sabo, named after one of my brothers. He lives all the way in London workin’ as an actor.”

“That’s amazing.” “They look like they need a brush, poor things.”

“It’s the heat. They shed a lot in the summer.” “Why don’t you let me?” you ask. “You seem so tired. Don’t worry, I pick up fast.”

“Just slowly brush their sides,” he explains, motioning his hands as an example. “It relaxes them. And don’t worry about scarin’ em; they’re well-behaved and they love attention.” “Hey, there, boy,” you coo. “I’m just gonna brush you.”

“Not bad for a city girl,” he whispers in your ear. “Oh, so you got jokes now,” you scoff. “Well, your horses seem to like me more than their owner. I think that proves I’d make a great cowgirl.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks. “You ever ridden one before?” “Uh…no,” you hesitantly answer. “Not since I was six at a petting zoo.”

Ace gives you a smile full of mirth and trust. “You wanna try now?”

You have no idea what propels you to say yes, but suddenly find yourself standing beside Sabo in the open field while Ace straps a leather saddle on his back. He then turns to you and opens his arms. “I’ll help ya up,” he says, flashing you a smile. “And if ya ever feel uncomfortable, I promise you we’ll cut the ride short.”

“There we go,” he huffs. “Now up I go.” With a grunt, he carefully hoists himself up on Sabo’s back and straddles the seat behind you. You bite your lip at the throb you feel between your thighs at the feeling of his strong arms coming around you to hold onto the reins with you. His thighs and chest brush against your back, the scent of sweat and pine rolling off of him.

“Now, gently tug on the reins twice and click your tongue,” he instructs. Nervously, you do as he says, his presence a comfort for you. You wouldn’t know what to do with this big-ass horse alone. Sabo slowly begins to walk in the field, taking a languid pace that is relaxing and not at all as scary as you thought.

“See?” Ace laughs. “Not bad, right? You can use the reins to steer him or go faster, just like a car. If ya want him to stop, just tug on the reins once. If ya wanna go a little faster, just snap the reins so he’ll totter, like this.”

He helps you give them a slight snap and Sabo picks up the pace. You gasp as you feel his back jump with you and Ace on top, your body instantly tensing.

“Hang on,” he chuckles. “It’ll get a little bumpy.” You side-eye him, your heart about to explode out of your chest. “A little?” you scoff and that makes him laugh even harder.

His thumbs begin to stroke your knuckles, trying to calm you down. “You’re so sense, sweetie,” he coos. “I promise you’re okay. Just enjoy the ride.” His voice is soft and reassuring, only arousing you more.

However, despite the images of him fucking you stupid in your mind, you fight against your visceral reaction to change and relax. “Good, good!” he praises. “You really are a fast learner! Good boy, Sabo! Take us home!”

Sabo turns around and totters back to the farm, bouncing you on top. You giggle, feeling free with the sun and wind in your hair. When Sabo comes to a stop, Ace jumps off first.

He holds out his arms for you and you reach down, clinging yourself to him as he takes you off of the horse. Once your feet are on the ground, you sigh, relieved, but an underwhelming feeling descends upon you at ground level again. It was exciting being on Sabo’s back above ground, but you think most of the thrilling, excited feeling you got was from Ace being so close to you.

“Nicely done, city girl. I knew ya had it in ya to ride a horse.” “Well, it helps when I’ve got a great teacher, country boy,” you giggle, but it comes out way more seductive than you meant it to.

Thank goodness the splashing sounds of the horses slurping down their water stops you because who knows what would’ve happened? “Uh…drink?” he sheepishly asks. “I’ve got fresh lemonade in the fridge.”

But as soon as you’re in the house, Ace suddenly whirls you around to face him and grabs you before his lips finally mesh with yours. You make a small noise of surprise as he twirls you around, but it quickly melts into a soft moan as his soft, juicy lips press against yours. They are just as heavenly as you thought they’d be. The kiss is tentative and careful at first, but the more you press into him, the more passionate and open Ace becomes.

His tongue slowly licks your bottom lip and you part your lips, granting him access. The taste of whiskey on his tongue and the wet, sucking sounds of your heavy makeout make your shorts feel tighter and your nipples hard under your bra. Ace’s hands caress your back while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer until you’re sharing the same air.

When he pulls away, he is softly panting and his eyes are ablaze. “Sorry,” he pants. “I just couldn’t resist. I’ve been wantin’ to do that since yesterday.”

You smile, leaning in to peck his lips again. You can’t get enough of him now that you’ve had him. “Don’t apologize,” you whisper. “I have, too.” Oh, and have you!

Ace smiles, looking pleased to hear this. You’re just as happy to know that he’s been sweating over you the way you have been for him since yesterday. “You’re here for a week, right?” he huskily asks and you nod, too afraid to speak. You don’t want to ruin this.

His big hands slide down lower and lower until they meet your ass. Finally. “Then if it’s alright with you, darlin’, I’d like to make your first time out in the country one you’ll never forget. If this is just a summer fling to you then that’s cool. I just wanna make you feel good and make ya forget all about that asshole ex of yours back home.”

The passionate promise burning in his eyes is too tempting to resist. You run your hands down his chest, feeling him up and letting him know just how much you want this. “I’d love that,” you purr. “Now kiss me again, cowboy.”

Ace doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, his lips sweep yours up again as he grips you to him, his hands caressing your thighs. You’re so deep in his kiss that you barely feel the wall suddenly pressing against your back. You moan as Ace presses himself into you, his hard body like another wall squeezing you between the one behind you. He takes your arms and pins them over your head, stealing the air from your lungs.

He chuckles, smiling against your desperate lips. His hands move unde your thighs and he scoops you up with ease, making you feel oh-so little. He laughs at your little gasp as you find yourself hovering off of the floor in his arms. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he says. “You’ll enjoy this ride. Bedroom?” You nod, wrapping your limbs around him like a koala bear, and away he goes with you in tow, thunking around in his cowboy boots and hat.

You get a tiny tour of his place when he goes upstairs and finally makes it to his bedroom that is filled with sunlight pouring in through the window. “Don’t close the blinds,” you purr as he kicks the door shut with his foot. “I wanna see you in the light.”

He smirks, loving your freakiness. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, tasting your lips once more. “Now if it’s alright with you, I’d like to get these clothes off ya.”

You giggle as he sets you down on the bed before joining you. “The feelin’ is mutual, cowboy,” you sexily reply. “Just leave the hat and boots on…please.” You feel your face grow hot as Ace laughs at your request, taking your chin in his hand. “You’re a freaky one,” he purrs, biting his bottom lip. “I like that. You’re a woman who knows what she wants.”

Of course, you are! Any girl alone with a sexy cowboy would know what they want and right now, you want this man naked and to fuck you dumb. As you share heated, sloppy kisses, you help Ace strip off your bra, kicks, socks, and shorts, leaving you in on your panties. He takes a moment to ogle your body as you stand between his thighs.

“Fuck,” he huffs and you grow hot, realizing that this is the first time you’ve heard him cuss. “You’re a work of art, babydoll…is it okay if I call you that?” If it ain’t your hard nipples that give him a yes, it’s the kiss you give him. “Yes,” you whisper. Yes to everything. Ace grabs you and begins to kiss up your body, gently sucking on your nipples and licking your neck.

“I’m all sweaty,” you whine, slightly self-conscious. The cowboy raises a brow at you as if to say, ‘And?’ before scooping you up into his arms and tossing you onto the bed.

Now on your stomach, Ace takes advantage by bending your knees and hiking your ass up for him. “Stop,” he chortles. “I’m from the South, darlin’. A little sweat don’t mean nothin’ to me…now pipe down and let me enjoy you.”

You’ve never been with a man who loves eating pussy. You’ve never been with a man that eats pussy quite like Ace. But you should’ve known when he finally got your panties down and finally saw your exposed, glistening pussy all for him. “Goddamn,” he exhaled before spreading your asscheeks and giving right into the depths of your cunt.

His first few licks are gentle and slow as he gets to know your body. He asks you what you like and what you dislike. What makes you tick. The fact that he’s so interested in what you want and like makes you even wetter. Once you tell him and he gets right to work, it doesn’t take long for you to melt into the bed as his mouth works your pussy.

You grip the pillow now, your moans, whimpers, and whines falling onto Ace’s ears like a sweet symphony of music. “Ohhh, fuck, Ace!” you sing into the pillow, pushing your ass back into his face. He welcomes you, his hands gripping and smacking each cheek in time with his magical tongue lashes against your clit.

“That’s it, sing for me, darlin’,” he coos into your pussy, his words slightly muffled. “You sound so fuckin’ good.” He then pulls away from your pussy to slide his tongue up to your ass, much to your enjoyment. While he does this, he takes one finger and lightly glides it up and down your slit, sending shivers and sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

“Your ex ever do this for you?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your lowerback. “Did he ever take care of you like this?” He moves down to give an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy, emitting a loud moan from you. “Or this gorgeous girl?” he purrs against your clit. “Tell me.” Gently, his finger begins to prope your hole, sinking into your folds.

You gasp, gripping the pillow. “N-No,” you stammer. Ace makes a noise of approval. “I knew it. This cunt of yers is just too damn wet for me…not that I’m complainin’. You taste so, so good, little darlin’!” His tongue slides down your asscrack to your clit again, sucking on it while he fingers you.

You are a writhing, squirming mess, grinding your hips back into him, riding that wave of pleasure. The more he licks, sucks, and strokes, the more that knot in your core tightens, threatening to snap and cause you to spill all over his tongue. But his ministrations also cause something else: need. A desperate, blinding, unbridled need for him inside of you. “Stop, Ace!” you beg and he does, immediately. “I need you to fuck me. Please! I wanna cum around your cock!”

Ace pauses, taken aback by your request. But then you hear the joyous, thrilling sound of his belt buckle jingling and his zipper coming down. “So naughty,” he chuckles. “How’d you know I like naughty girls? You must’ve come outta my wettest dreams, babydoll.” You feel his cock slide against your slit, warm, hard, and thick.

You both moan as he taps it against your clit, his head nudging against the little bundle of nerves. “And per your request,” he says, laughter in his voice, “I’ll keep the hat and boots on for ya. But I want ya to look at me while I’m inside you, okay?”

Slowly, you turn your head and behold your eyes to the sexy man sporting his cowboy hat, boots, and nipple piercings behind you, his eyes burning with want. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his thick cock and heavy balls that are begging to be tasted. But later. Right now, you need him in you. “Yes, sir,” you purr. “Now please: fuck me.”

Wordlessly, Ace grasps your hip with one hand and fulfills your request by taking his cock and sinking himself inside of you. His head sinking between your soft, wet folds cause you both to gasp, the contact explosively pleasurable. Ace goes slow, filling you to the brim with every slow thrust of his hips. It’s unbearable, almost agonizing how slow he’s moving.

Ace senses your change in demeanor and gently pulls out, leaving only his cockhead in you. “You alright?” he whispers, worried. “You’re shakin’ like a leaf. Do you want me to stop?”

The very thought of losing this feeling makes you desperate. You turn to him, your hair a sexed-out mess and your eyes lidded. “No,” you exhale, giving him a smile. “You’re just goin’ too slow.”

Instantly, all of the worry and uncertainty in Ace’s eyes disappear, replaced with only lust. A slow smirk stretches across his lips at your naughty request. “Well, why didn’t ya say so, darlin’?”

He pushes himself back in and grips your hips before pistoning into you, giving you the deep dick that you’ve been craving for months. A loud whine leaves your lips as he fucks you like you belong to him, causing your body to shake even more and that arch in your back to wobble. “Fuck me back,” he demands, his voice rough and raspy. “Don’t make me do all the work here. Take what you want from me, baby, c’mon.”

You push yourself up on your forearms and push back into him, tossing your ass back into his mind-blowing, bed-shaking, orgasmic thrusts that make you see stars behind your eyelids. Ace’s dick strokes every part of your insides while his hands grip your hip and one of your tits, molding the globe of flesh and teasing the tight nipple between his fingers. “O-Oh, my God!” you moan, your voice bouncing off of the walls. “Yes, Ace, just like that! Fuck me just like that!”

“Like what?” Ace asks, a smile evident in his voice. “Like…this?” He rolls his hips in a way that glides against your G-spot, causing you to damn near scream in pleasure. You just about hit high notes that would put Mariah Carey’s career in the dirt as Ace loops a hand between your thighs to rub your clit. You keep grinding back into him, much to his enjoyment.

He loves watching you move, your body so enticing while you squeeze around him. “God, darlin’,” he groans. “I can’t get enough of these hips. You ride me so well. Can’t wait to see how you ride my cock.”

He leans down to whisper into your ear, still pounding your pussy like it’s his profession. “I bet you’d be so good at it. I bet you’d be my good little cowgirl, wouldn’t cha? Bet you’d make me cum deep inside this pussy.”

His tongue slips against your earlobe as he begins to suck on it. You loop an arm around his neck to bring him close to you, his sweat-sticky body pressed against yours as he ruts into you from behind.

When your orgasm begins to peak, you can’t stop it and you don’t want to. This feels too good.

“F-Fuck, Ace!” you gasp. “I’m gonna…gonna cum!” Ace hums in approval, moving harder and faster, frantically rubbing your clit with his thick fingers. “Do it,” he practically begs. “Cum for me. Give me what I need.”

When you cum, you cum hard. It is so intense that it takes you a minute to make any noise as the rush of pleasure hits you, but once it does, you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard yourself make as you gush all around Ace’s cock. He grunts as your pussy hugs him, squeezing him like a vice as you coat his shaft in your cum.

“Thatta girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You softly whimper in acknowledgment, gripping the sheets as you ride your orgasm wave.

Once your high fades, Ace quickly pulls out as if you’ve burned him with your pussy, desperate to not cum yet. “Shit,” he hisses. “Look at how messy you made me, baby. You’ve gotta clean it up now.” He sticks his cock, shining in your juices, in your face, a lust-filled expression on his face.

The orgasm has done something to you, turning you into an insatiable, needy little slut. Suddenly feral and in need of him, you swallow his cock and slurp up all of your cum, even taking his balls in your mouth when you can. But when you’re too busy gagging all over his dick, you massage them in one hand with the other plays with his pierced nipples. Ace is enjoying himself immensely. He can’t believe his luck having such a beautiful woman in his bed, let alone a celebrity, sucking him off and teasing his overly-sensitive nipples.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he moans, tilting his head back at the feeling. “You keep doin’ all of that and I’ll cum. I still need more of ya.”

You hum in agreement, slipping off of his cock with a soft pop that your wet lips make. You look up at him through hooded eyes, making him so hard that it becomes painful. “If ya still want another round, I want you to ride me,” he huskily requests. “I wanna see this body bounce on top of me while I finally bust inside of you.”

You shiver, immediately soaked from the idea. Wordlessly, you stand on your knees and brace your hands on his chest before shoving him down onto the bed. He laughs, the sound making your heart melt, but it’s quickly replaced with a desperate moan as you climb on top of him, mounting him like he’s your own personal Stallion…or dildo. He doesn’t seem like he’d protest either.

But as you wrap a hand around his cock and bring it to meet your pussy, he stops you. “Wait, wait,” he protests. You stop, confused, until he takes his hat off and places it on your head. “Now ya look the part,” he comments, making you giggle. “Now ride me like a good little cowgirl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You come down to take his cock inside of you, drawing a moan out of both of you once your tight, wet walls squeeze around him. Bracing your feet on the bed as you straddle Ace, you place one hand on his chest and slowly begin bouncing, becoming used to how he feels in this position. He is so deep, touching every single part of you, stretching you out more than he did in doggy.

“O-Oh, my Go-o-od!” you gasp, each word punctuated by your bouncing. You tilt your head up to the ceiling as you roll your hips, grinding your clit against Ace’s pelvis. The pleasure makes you throw your head back and your eyes flutter closed, each delicious burst of pleasure taking you on a ride.

Ace is enjoying his ride as well, watching you bounce that perfect pussy and body on his cock. “That’s it, babydoll,” he groans, gripping your hips. Y

ou ride him like he’s stolen, your gorgeous titties jiggling in his face. His hat perched on top of your pretty head is just as yummy–it’s the cherry on top for him. Watching you makes him want to make you yours; make it so no man, whether in the country or city, can ever have you again.

“How’s it feel?” he asks, staring up at your pretty face. All you let out is a pathetic whimper that gives him the urge to burst inside of you. “I know it feels good, darlin’, but I need your words. Tell me how that dick feels.” He begins to rub your clit with his thumb, causing you to let out a loud whine.

“S-so…so good!” you gasp, alternating between bouncing and rolling your hips, giving him more and more of that pussy every single time. “You feel so good, Ace!”

Suddenly feral, the cowboy leans up and swoops you into his arms, pistoning his hips up into yours from below. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he pants in your ear, his voice low and tantalizing. “Tell me you love it.”

You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear if it means he’ll keep doing this to you. “You’re the best, Ace!” you sob, gripping his shoulders. “You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had! I love the way you fuck me!”

That’s all it takes for the cowboy to keep fucking you stupid as you grind into him from above. The both of you fuck each other like you need it, the bed shaking and your moans echoing throughout the room. You kiss sloppily and messily, your tongues swirling with one another as your pussy squelches and gushes around his cock.

When your second orgasm comes, all you can do is let out a sob, your nails skating down Ace’s back and skull tattoo. He gets his nut just after you, letting out a loud “Oh, fuck!” along with a series of porn-worthy moans as he explodes inside of you. You gasp, feeling a gush of warmth flow into you as you cream all over his cock, your cum sliding down his balls that have completely emptied themselves inside of you.

The high is just as intense and as blissful as the first time, especially since Ace is joining you on this ride this time. You both share an exhausted, messy kiss before he exhaustedly falls back against the pillows, breathing heavily. You roll off him and fall beside him on the bed, his hat still on your head.

For a while, you both lie there in silence, panting heavily from the activity. The only sounds in the room are the birds chirping and the horses neighing outside, giving a very peaceful atmosphere after some good sex. Finally, Ace turns over to look at you. “So how ‘bout that dinner date?” he asks.

You burst into laughter and he follows, the both of you in a fit of giggles that feels just as freeing as the sex. “I could use a steak,” you reply once you calm yourself. “My treat.” Ace makes a face like he’s offended by the very idea. “My treat,” he corrects you. “You deserve it for that ride ya just gave me. You certainly knocked my boots.”

He wraps those big arms around you that you happily snuggle into, wrapping your own around him too. You feel so content and safe despite only knowing the man for two days. Maybe this is a sign. “Mine too,” you sigh. “Oh, and just so you know, I’m familiar with one of the names tatted on your wrists: Luffy. I know him.”

You watch as realization dawns in Ace’s eyes at the mention of his brother. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, excited. “You know my kid brother?” You nod, giggling. “He’s told me about you. Said your the brother that’s a cowboy, but I just forgot.”

He lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes you laugh with him, adoring his childlike personality. “Wow, what a small world!” he chuckles. “I guess in a way, maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

Though you wouldn’t have admitted it first, you think the same thing. If this blooms into something more, it could work. You could take the train to see him and vice versa…if he is interested. It isn’t just the sex you enjoy. You also enjoy talking to Ace. You love how he pushes you to try new things and is so in tune with your feelings. Most men aren’t, so whoever raised him did it well.

You also think about how great of a plot this would be in a book…and just like that, you have the sudden inspiration to write a new series filled with action, mystery, thrills, romance, and a lot of steamy sex with a cowboy who may or may not be inspired by the one you’re currently curled up with.

You look up at Ace, your muse, dreamboat, and possible summer-fling-to-not, with the same adoring, satisfied smile he gazes down at you with. “So steak dinner it is then?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod, snuggling into his shoulder. “After round two,” you purr. “And a snuggle and shower….in either order.” You beam up at him, a hunger for him rising in the pit of your stomach. You don’t want to waste a minute of this week out in the countryside.

Evidently, neither does Ace judging by his hardening dick against your thigh. He takes your wrist and kisses it before rolling on top of you and grinding himself against your core.

“I can do all of that, little darlin’,” he murmurs. “You can even wear my boots this time.”

THE END.

#ace d portgas #ace x black reader #ace x reader #ace x you #my baby daddy fr #one piece smut #one piece x y/n #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #cowboy!geto

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babe-bombadil · 11 months

Text

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield On Vacation

Fili is the first to get stopped in the metal detector for carrying knives

Ori also gets stopped but that’s just because he's wearing overalls

Bifur gets stopped at the metal detector too for obvious reasons, but he just sighs and waits for Bofur to pull his doctor’s note out

Nori’s carry on bag gets stopped because his bottle of hair gel is over the 100 ml limit

Stirs up a fuss when he won’t throw it away

Balin has to step in and resolve the conflict that’s literally his job description in Erebor

Kili looks at the arrival/departure screens and sees that a flight got canceled and just immediately assumes it was theirs

Convinces half the dwarves they need to go back before Bilbo actually bothers to double check

Gandalf claims he “accidentally” booked himself in first class while all the others are in economy although he honestly deserves it after the stress of trying to get every dwarf on the plane

Gandalf also “accidentally” booked all the dwarves seats in the very back of the plane

He gets a Thorin Glare™ when they figure this out

Kili claims he needs to sit by the window so he doesn’t get nauseous but really he just likes to look at the clouds (and stars!)

Oin is out COLD before the plane even takes off

The others pretend not to be jealous he can fall asleep so easily

Bombur usually falls asleep quickly but makes sure to stay awake because he’s excited for the free snacks is very disappointed when he realizes it’s only a tiny bag of pretzels

Gloin’s seat accidentally got switched so he’s sitting in the front of the plane next to a middle aged couple

He doesn’t care but soon gets them into a conversation about their children

Talks for hours about his own son Gimli(!!!)

The couple absolutely loves him and by the end of the flight Gloin gets invited to their daughter’s wedding

Fili reaches over and presses the call flight attendant button on Ori’s seat

Ori is extremely embarrassed and flustered when the flight attendant comes over and apologizes for bothering her so many times that it starts being awkward and the flight attendant just slowly backs away

Bilbo reads a book for the entire flight like the nerd he is

Bofur nearly gets kicked off the plane after trying to start a group song doesn’t understand why the other passengers wouldn’t join in

Dori claps when the plane lands

FIli and Kili join him as a joke and start cheering loudly

Dwalin hits the back of their seats but can’t do much more because security’s been watching him since he arrived

Thorin has the darkest circles under his eyes because this man has MAJOR insomnia

Tried to fall asleep the entire 10 hour flight and only got 5 consecutive minutes also couldn’t sleep the night before

Is officially in his Grumpy Cat Era™ because he hasn’t slept in 36 hours and is dealing with a LOT of travel stress

Falls asleep in the car on the way to the hotel

There aren’t enough seats in the rental car so they just stuff Fili and Kili in the trunk don’t worry it was their idea

Bilbo is driving

Gandalf tried to be the driver but his drivers license was revoked years ago

Balin tries to tell the company about cool landmarks they pass on the way to the hotel but everyone is so tired no one responds

He doesn’t seem to notice and will continue giving a history lesson the entire drive

Bilbo runs over a pothole and Fili and Kili hit the ceiling with a loud THWACK

No one bothers to check on them until they get to the hotel sorry not sorry

Bonus:

Thranduil and Legolas are the ones who wear full suits to get on an airplane Legolas tries to get out of this but is told he will be disowned if he wears sweats

They are also the kind of people who will get off of a 15 hour red eye looking fresher than a daisy

Have to avoid paparazzi in the airport

They bring Tauriel with them for crowd control

Can definitely afford a private plane but don’t get one because of the high carbon emissions remember elves are the biggest tree huggers

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adore-laur · 10 months

Text

PINK VELVET

— an italian getaway full of sunshine & surprises 💗

——

SALERNO, ITALY

Crystalline blue waters sparkling under the sunshine, ornate architecture standing high among the cliffsides, and mopeds burning rubber on the cobblestone streets—it's all pure, unadulterated bliss.

Sharing that bliss with your boyfriend enhances the experience. Both of you have been staying at a villa rental for a few days already, and the surrounding greenery and stucco buildings on the precipice rocks of the Tyrrhenian Sea bring a much-needed sense of privacy. It's a getaway for your third anniversary with Harry, and while it's a more extended vacation than usual—two weeks to be exact—the mellow atmosphere makes you feel like you could stay in Italy forever.

Harry said he plans on wooing you with the foreign language, having bought a book filled with romantic phrases at the airport's souvenir shop. You're dreading it because once he starts, he won't stop.

It's four in the afternoon, and you're getting ready to kayak off the Amalfi Coast. The heat will be sweltering, especially out on the open water, so you put on jean shorts over your swim bottoms, leaving just your bikini top on. Harry is standing in the doorway of the master bathroom and tying the strings of his swim trunks. He's wearing a white tank top that you know will be taken off eventually.

A cooler packed with snacks and drinks is by the front door. Once you reach downtown, the journey to the kayak launch takes about fifteen minutes, so you and Harry will drive in the vintage Cadillac he insisted on renting and park on the street before walking the rest of the way.

"Ready?" Harry asks, giving your ass two pats as he walks by.

"I guess," you say flatly.

He smirks and steals a scrunchie from your makeup bag to put around his wrist. "That's enough out of you."

You hoist the cooler over your shoulder, sling a beach towel over the other, and then stroll through the spacious villa rooms toward the door. When you open it, a blast of humid air immediately hits you. Harry brushes past you while jingling the car keys, a drawstring backpack on his back. You lock the door before heading toward the luxurious car you don't want to know the cost of.

Harry swings the passenger door open for you like a gentleman, but you decide to mess with him by ignoring his gesture. You open the driver's side door and smoothly crawl over the console until you're in the passenger seat. Harry slowly shakes his head, reaching forward to pluck your bikini strap with his fingers and lightly snap it against your skin. He throws his backpack under the seat before sliding behind the steering wheel.

The engine roars to life. Harry's hand places itself on your headrest, his body twisting around so he can carefully reverse down the circular driveway. You take his hand and set your interlocked fingers in your lap. He glances at you and smiles, his hair blowing beautifully in the wind and the sun casting a golden hue over his face.

When you arrive downtown, Harry parks along a random street. He removes his hand from yours and claps once. "Okay, here's the game plan. I reckon we should rent one kayak for both of us. It'll be cheaper and more fun, and we can work together like—"

"Absolutely not."

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry, but being stuck in a kayak with you sounds like my personal hell. You'll somehow manage to tip us over or get us lost." Harry can live in a world of his own sometimes. You really want to avoid ending up stranded in the deep, expansive ocean.

"Baby," he says, looking at you with wounded eyes. "What if I drift away and we lose each other? I need you. I'll do all the work while you sit back and relax."

You can't possibly say no to him when he looks like a literal Greek god basking in the Italian sun, his lips irresistibly pink against his tanned skin.

"Fine," you surrender. "I'm not letting you do all the work, though, because we'll probably end up in a different country. Also, I'm sitting in the front seat. Deal?"

"Sì, amore mio," he says, passion dripping off his tongue. "And, um... I may have already paid for just one kayak when I booked the reservation yesterday. Well, singular ticket."

"You're unbelievable." Stepping out of the car, you stretch your limbs while Harry puts his backpack on and grabs the cooler. You hold onto his free hand and begin walking to the beach. Many people are out and about—vendors selling gourmet cuisine, kids riding bicycles through the alleyways, and tourists stopping at attractions.

At the waterfront, kayaks are stacked on racks, shimmering under the sun. Since Harry booked a reservation ahead of time, he walks toward the man who appears to be running the operation. You watch them shake hands and converse. Harry knows enough basic Italian to navigate through any language barrier yet to come.

Eventually, they both wander over to you, and the man caresses your hand and kisses your cheek. You smile and shyly mutter an Italian greeting. The man then excitedly leads you to the kayaks, taking a maroon two-seater from the bottom rack and dragging it toward the water. While following him, you notice only a few people are on the beach today. Only a couple of other occupied kayaks drift in the ocean, looking like mere silhouettes from where you stand.

"You know the rules, yes?" asks the man as he pushes the front of the kayak into the shallow water.

"Yes, I've done this before. I'll teach this guy," you say, pointing at Harry while draping your towel over the seat.

Harry smiles mindlessly, placing the cooler and backpack between the two seats. The man briefly leaves to grab life jackets and oars, leaving you and Harry to get into the kayak. You let him go first since he's sitting in the back. As you grip the side so it doesn't rock, he removes his tank top and hands it to you before steadily climbing in and bending his long legs to fit in the restrictive space.

You're next. Harry plants his foot in the sand to keep the kayak balanced and then offers his hand to grasp. Once you're situated, you sigh relievedly.

"This sucks," Harry mutters, nudging his knee against your back. "I can't even see your face."

"You could've solved that problem if you got us two kayaks."

"Yeah, but I wanted to be close to you," he says, sliding his shoes off. "Just look behind you every once in a while so I can get my fix."

You laugh, looking at the water that endlessly expands past the horizon. The man comes back with two life jackets, and you clip one to your body as sturdy oars are placed across your and Harry's laps. The man gives a thumbs up and slowly maneuvers the kayak away from the shoreline.

"Grazie!" Harry shouts, waving to him as the both of you drift further from land.

"Ciao! Stai al sicuro!" he shouts back.

The destination of the cliffs is a short one; their imminent height is visible far out to the left of the coastal village. You begin paddling, alternating sides to stay on a straight path, while Harry opens the cooler to take out a package of crackers and a bottle of water.

"Please tell me you know how to properly paddle," you say, taking a break to sip some water while the kayak naturally rides the ripples.

"Obviously. I'm kind of the backbone of this kayak, so I know what I'm doing," Harry replies with faux confidence, still not picking up the paddle.

"That's funny, considering I'm literally doing all the work right now. Get to paddling, or I won't turn around so you can get your fix."

"Calmati, bellissima," he murmurs, snatching a handful of crackers before finally helping.

A comfortable silence ensues, with only the sound of water splashing and the slight creak of the kayak that comes with each movement. Harry whistles a tune every so often. A content smile pulls at your lips.

However, it doesn't last long because if there's one thing Harry loves to do, it's acting like a child sometimes. He disrupts the long stretch of peace by pretending to tip over the kayak by rocking slightly back and forth in his seat, gasping like he's not doing it.

"Harry, I swear," you say with a nervous undertone, holding on to the edge of the kayak so you don't actually tip over into the vast ocean, infested with who knows what. "You're like a five-year-old!"

He listens immediately, apparently noticing your anxiousness. He settles back in his seat, stretching his legs next to your body and nudging his foot against your thigh as a silent apology.

"It wasn't me. I think there's an animal under us," he says, playing with your hair to distract you. It doesn't help, because you know that there are probably massive creatures swimming below you. He knows one of your biggest fears is drowning, so he should feel like a jerk now after his little charade.

"Are you going to sit there and braid my hair, or can you help me get to our destination before it gets dark?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, grabbing his paddle and helping you turn left toward the rock formations. They aren't too far away now.

"We're almost there," you encourage softly, dialing back your slight attitude. Harry is quiet, so you turn around to see him pouting softly. "Why are you sulking?"

"Am I being annoying? You sound annoyed with me," he says, avoiding eye contact and setting his paddle down.

"No, honey. I just want to get there as quickly as we can and swim for a bit. We have wine tasting after this, so we can't dilly-dally."

"Dilly-dally," he repeats, laughing at your chosen phrase. "Okay, I'll behave. Kiss?"

You capture his lips with yours, tasting the tomato and basil crackers he's been munching on. He kisses you back and reaches out his hand to push some hair behind your ear. Pulling away, you see the cliffs only about two hundred feet away. You both begin paddling again in serene silence.

At the side of the cliff, you stop the kayak by a large, flat rock that peeks out of the water and appears safe to stand on. You hold onto it; the waves are more active in this area, and you tie some rope around the post provided. You assume it's there for other kayakers and cliff divers to take advantage of.

Once you climb onto the rock, you offer your hand to assist Harry and pull him up. "We made it!" you exclaim, lifting your arms. Harry high-fives both of your hands and bends down to kiss you.

You unclip your life jacket, then do the same for Harry. Free from obstruction, your arms naturally loop around his waist for a hug. He embraces you, his large hand cradling the back of your head. You stay like that for a while, watching waves crash against the rocks as the sun starts painting the sky with blue and orange streaks.

"Wanna do something stupid?" you say into his chest before lifting your chin to look at him mischievously. He has more freckles due to the hours spent sunbathing.

Harry peers at you with furrowed brows. "What?"

"Let's jump off that rock," you say, pointing your finger behind him.

He turns you both around, still trapping you in his arms. A tall, cliff-like rock surrounded by several smaller rocks makes it easy to reach the top. You don't wait for Harry's answer and pull your shorts down, revealing your cherry-red bikini bottoms. Venturing your way up, you glance back at Harry. He grins and immediately follows suit, walking behind you with outreached arms in case you slip.

At the top, you both stare at each other with knowing smiles. This is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Out of nowhere, Harry experiences a burst of spontaneity and quickly lunges forward, cannonballing off the cliff and into the water. He emerges after a few seconds, shaking his hair and letting out a loud holler, probably caused by adrenaline or the cold water.

You shuffle toward the edge and get ready to jump. Harry's gaze never wavers as you daintily leap off, plugging your nose and closing your eyes on the long way down. When you hit the water, a powerful sensation rushes through your body. You glide to the surface and find Harry swimming toward you, his drenched hair plastered to his skin.

The water is at an uncomfortable temperature, so you move briskly to climb back up on the rock the kayak is tied to. Shortly after, Harry lifts himself up, droplets dripping from his body. You dry off with the towel, then hand it to him. Once he finishes, you take your phone out of the backpack and tell him to pose. He presents both middle fingers, sticking his tongue out with a smile. The breathtaking evening view in the background makes the picture ten times more perfect.

"Let's head back," you say after soaking in the skyline. "The wine tasting is at six, and it's a little after five right now."

Harry nods, and you both put your life jackets back on before situating yourselves in the kayak. You untie the knotted rope, push off the rock, and then head toward the coastline. He helps paddle the whole way there, kissing the back of your neck every so often.

Bliss, bliss, bliss.

——

After returning the kayak and packing all the stuff in the car's trunk, Harry says he's going to find a nearby bathroom so he can change into his outfit for the wine tasting. He hands you one of his sweaters out of the bag—a gray crewneck. It's your favorite and still smells like him, no matter how often you've worn it.

You have no idea what outfit he brought; he manages to take it out and quickly runs into a shop while you're distracted by the lively village. Waiting with anticipation in the car, you cozy up, growing tired from the strenuous paddling and calming atmosphere around you.

Five minutes pass before Harry appears, and you immediately laugh at the sight of him. Not because he looks silly, but because his outfit is too fancy for less than an hour of wine tasting in some restaurant's cellar.

"Harry," you say breathily, taking in his outfit. "I'm wearing a sweater, and you're wearing a suit. Where did you even get that?"

It's a bubblegum pink suit left open over a plain white button-up. White dress shoes are on his feet, and he must've fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror.

"Eh?" He spins around. "You like it?"

"You look very handsome, but now I feel severely underdressed. Why didn't you tell me to pack a dress?" You obviously don't have the time to go back to the villa and change, but you're curious as to why Harry didn't say anything about the apparent dress code for tonight.

"I wanted to surprise you, darling. Plus, I know you would be worried about spilling wine on something nice. It's a private tasting, so no one will see you but me and the chef I mentioned."

Harry had booked a wine tasting with a man he'd met when he last visited Italy, the friendly owner of a family-owned restaurant in the village. He has always been able to leave unforgettable impressions on everyone he meets, so the man gladly moved some things around so that he could have you two come to the cellar for an intimate experience.

You sigh, realizing there's no point in arguing. They won't care, so why should you? You have no doubt that Harry will make you feel comfortable once you get there.

"You're right. Hopefully, he doesn't care that I look like I just crawled out of a lake."

"Basta. Sembri un sogno," Harry says, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the car.

You assume he said something incredibly charming. Your face naturally warms as you distract yourself by picking nonexistent lint off your sleeve before walking the bustling street toward a restaurant called Dahlia. The man Harry knows is waiting by the arched front door with a jovial smile.

"Ciao, Signore Styles!" he greets enthusiastically. "Ah, la tua ragazza. Benvenuto!"

Harry shakes his hand. "Che bello rivederti. Questa è la mia ragazza, sì. Cominciamo, va bene?"

"Yes, yes. Seguitemi, cari."

The two of you follow him through the small, packed restaurant and descend a narrow flight of stairs that leads to a wine cellar. Harry is behind you, his hands on your shoulders to ensure you don't take a tumble. His dress shoes click against the polished wood with each step.

At the bottom, you turn down a dim hallway. Endless wine bottles are meticulously stacked on shelves against the walls. There's a table and chairs, and two wine glasses and napkins are already set neatly on the surface. There's even a plate of bread.

You sit, and Harry does the same. He immediately begins shaking the napkin out and placing it in his lap, like he's done this a million times before. You cross your legs and angle your body toward him, admiring his features in the low, yellowish lighting from the antique wall sconces. He grins handsomely.

The man brings over two bottles of expensive-looking wine, and you think of your preconceived notion of what wine tasting would be like—rolling hills and vineyards in the countryside, getting wine drunk with middle-aged moms wearing patterned blouses, gossiping about their cheating husbands.

Where you are right now is undeniably better. Who wouldn't want to be in a cramped room with their boyfriend, who's wearing a pink suit and looking at you like you're the only thing that exists?

The man fills the wine glasses with an adequate amount of blood-red liquid, then stands back to observe your reactions. Harry spins it around in his glass and sniffs it, acting like he's all fancy. You want to laugh at him, but keep it inside so you don't seem disrespectful. Instead, you bring your glass up to your mouth and take a small sip, tasting wild berries and a hint of an unknown aromatic herb. Harry sips his next, eyes locked on yours the entire time. He smacks his lips after swallowing and exhales, obviously pleased. You roll your eyes at him secretively. He's acting like he owns the place, and it's shameful that you find it attractive.

You rip off a piece of bread from the loaf in front of you and eat it, the buttery dough instantly melting on your tongue. Harry smiles at you, resting his hand on your chair as you rip some more off and offer it to him. He puts it in his mouth and mouths a silent swear, then picks up the entire loaf of bread and inspects it like he's Gordon Ramsey.

"I need the recipe for that," you whisper humorously.

Harry, of course, takes it literally. He beckons the man to come closer and places a friendly hand on his shoulder. "La mia ragazza adora cucinare il pane. Potrei avere questa ricetta per favore? Questo è sorprendente."

"Ovviamente! Tornerò," says the man while hurriedly going upstairs.

You turn to Harry with confusion, needing help understanding the exchange.

"He's getting the recipe for it," he explains. "You can make it before we go home."

"Harry," you say with a sigh. "Stop being so nice. I could've just found an online recipe. What if it's a family recipe that's super important to him?"

"Stop worrying, my love. He doesn't mind."

Before you can respond, the man returns with a tattered recipe book. He opens it to a bookmarked page and sets it in front of you. "Fai una photo, caro. Fammi sapere com'è quando lo fai," he says, pointing at the bread drawing—not a picture—on the weathered page. Was this recipe from medieval times? Goodness gracious.

You can't understand him, so Harry takes your phone out of your pocket and snaps a picture of the handwritten words on the paper. You can't believe this man you just met is so willing to give you a recipe from his own restaurant.

"Grazie," you say shyly. Harry smiles at your sudden bashfulness, scooting closer to you and kissing your head.

The wine tasting continues for the next hour. Throughout the various sips of eclectic flavors, Harry amps up his lovable antics—slowly and dramatically reeling off flavors he gets from the wine and spinning the liquid in the glass so quickly that it spills onto the napkin in his lap.

Anything to see you smile.

After what feels like gallons of wine, you and Harry thank the man for his graciousness and ask if he could drive the car back to the villa since driving back yourselves while tipsy would be idiotic. Harry offers to pay a hefty amount for the favor, and the man happily obliges, saying he will drive it back when he finishes closing the restaurant. Harry hands him the keys before you leave, shaking hands and kissing cheeks with the other chefs on the way out.

You're both wine-drunk—arguably the best kind of drunk—and stumbling on clumsy feet with cheeks that won't stop smiling. It's dark out now, and the streetlights guide you to the Corvette. Harry calls for a taxi, speaking in full Italian, which makes you weak in the knees.

Harry removes his suit jacket after hanging up the phone, leaving the white button-up in all its glory, his tattoos and chest hair peeking out from the few buttons undone. You take your belongings out of the trunk, set them on the ground, and then stand beside Harry. You kiss his chest, nuzzling your cheek against it and closing your eyes. He rubs his hand along your back and begins swaying with you under the streetlight.

You look up at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, admiring his matching appearance. "How do you say 'pretty' in Italian?" you ask, getting lost in his gaze.

Harry pouts, thinking. "Patatina," he replies after a few seconds.

"You're patatina," you say lovingly.

He snorts at your cluelessness, smearing a kiss on your forehead.

"What?" you ask, looking at him with confusion. "Is that not what it means? That's not nice, Harry. What did you just make me say?" You gasp. "Is it something dirty?"

He's still giggling, with crinkled eyes and deep dimples carving his face. You poke his ribs to get him to answer. "Sorry," he says, breathing out a final laugh. "No, it's not dirty. Patatina is a term of endearment I read about in the book I bought. It means little potato."

You stare at him with a deadpan expression, thoughts about why you decided to date this boy running through your head. "Little potato... it's actually kind of cute," you admit, shuffling closer to Harry's warm body. "If you're a patatina, what am I?"

"Cipollino," he murmurs, cradling your face. It translates to 'little onion.' The book said it pairs well with patatina, and we're, like, a pair."

Your nose scrunches. "But an onion, out of everything? That's probably the least romantic vegetable. I want to be rhubarb or something, you know? They taste sweet, and I think... I think I'm pretty sweet. Right, Harry?" The wine is making its way to your dizzy head.

"Correct," he says. "And I'm patatina, not Harry."

"Shut up."

"Kiss me, then. Shut me right up."

You don't question him, lurching forward to give him a searing kiss, fingers hooking in his belt loops. He returns the kiss with the same, if not more, passion. You can taste the residue of wine on his cherry-colored lips, opening his mouth with your tongue to suck on his.

You suddenly hear tires rolling up and turn to see headlights shining on your figures. Great timing, taxi. You part from Harry's swollen lips, short of breath, and hastily pick up your stuff. You hope no one witnessed anything too wild.

Harry hands the driver a wad of cash before he climbs in the backseat. You follow suit. The vehicle drives off into the night, and your head rests on your lover's shoulder the whole way back.

——

The villa looms exquisitely under the starlit sky. You're relatively sure you fell asleep five minutes into the drive. Harry helps your sleepy body out of the car after grabbing all your belongings, then walks you up the driveway. He sets you on the outdoor sofa surrounding the fire pit before disappearing through the sliding door. The whispering breeze makes you shiver and burrow deeper into his sweater, which still clings to your figure.

Harry returns with two wine glasses and a bottle of... cranberry juice?

"If I have any more wine, I'll puke. So, cranberry juice?" he says, his voice rising to a higher octave.

"Sitting by the fire and drinking cranberry juice out of a wine glass with you," you say dreamily while scooting over to make room for him. "I can't think of anything better."

You soak up his company. When he went inside, he changed into grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and he looked like such a boyfriend. It's ridiculous. He's always so inviting and lovely. You find yourself wanting to touch him and absorb the warmth he exudes.

Sleep overtakes you again while you're tucked into his side. The next thing you wake up to are silk sheets on the king-size bed. You instinctively curl up to Harry's body beside you. He must have opened the vast bay window that provides an impossible sea view because a beautiful breeze flows over your skin. It has you sinking further into the mattress.

"Want me to get your pajamas?" Harry asks quietly.

You sleepily shake your head, perfectly fine with sleeping in his sweater. However, you do slide off your shorts and bikini bottoms.

You're dozing again when Harry clears his throat. You open your eyes, feeling his heart rate speed up under your cheek.

"I have something special planned for our anniversary tomorrow. It's in the evening, so we have time to do other things. Just letting you know."

"That makes me nervous, but I trust you."

"Tomorrow will be even better than today. I promise."

"Can't wait." You yawn. "Goodnight. Love you."

"I love you more than anything," he says, lightly scratching your back.

You grumble an incoherent response, drifting off to your dreams, which always pale compared to life with the man next to you.

——

The following morning's ambiance consists of Harry's snoring and glorious sunshine pouring through the wind-blown curtains. You must've slept like a rock because the bedside clock reads nine-thirty. You decide to abandon the soft sheets and let Harry get more sleep.

You wrap yourself in your satin robe and pad down the hallway toward the kitchen. One glance at the oven, and you remember the bread recipe from last night. It'd be a pleasant anniversary surprise for Harry, considering his surprise for you is shrouded in mystery. Plus, making bread is oddly therapeutic—the kneading, the delicious smell, the endless possibility of flavors. Luckily, all the simple ingredients are in the pantry, so you can start making the dough.

By the time it's in the oven, Harry is still dead to the world, and the time is nearing eleven. Some days, he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to go on a stupid run, or he'll sleep until noon on the weekends after a long week of work. There's really no in-between.

While the bread bakes, you clean up the mess on the counters before sitting at the kitchen table to aimlessly scroll through your phone. Another twenty minutes pass before you hear feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. You glance up to find a puffy-eyed Harry rubbing his face. He's wearing black swim trunks, and that's about it, except for the sunglasses on top of his head.

He bends down and kisses your cheek. "Buongiorno, mio piccolo cuoco," he says, his voice as raspy as the slight mustache above his lip that seems to have grown overnight.

"More like good afternoon." You shut your phone off and set it aside. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm, the best I have in ages," he answers, scratching his stomach. He then smiles lazily, his eyes looking more awake. "Happy anniversary."

"Three whole years. I don't know how I've gone putting up with you this long."

"Hey. I can go back to bed if you want," he says, pointing his thumb toward the bedroom.

"No, stay," you plead softly. "By the way, I'm making that bread recipe. It's my present to you for being an average boyfriend."

"Being sassy this morning, are we?"

"You love it."

"Got that right," Harry mutters, nosily peering into the oven. He sniffs the bread dramatically and whistles impressively before shutting the oven door. The mouthwatering aroma reminds you of wandering the Italian streets yesterday.

"Going for a swim?"

"Yeah. Join me?"

"I will once the bread is done." You stand and send him on his way with a peck on his lips. "Go ahead. I'll make you a fruit platter."

"Dragonfruit, please?" he requests, opening the sliding door that leads to the infinity pool.

"Got it. Don't forget to put sunscreen on!"

He gives you a thumbs up, leaving the door open to welcome the pleasant breeze. You grab hot pads and take the finished bread out, setting it on the cooling rack before turning the oven off. While it cools, you change into a swimsuit, tie a chiffon wrap skirt around your hips, and then arrange a platter.

You gather the cubed fruit you've both been eating the past couple of days—cantaloupe, watermelon, strawberries, and, per Harry's request, dragonfruit. He wanted to buy some after his wonderful mother grew it in her garden. Then, you precisely arrange the fruit in a circle on a floating breakfast tray that can go in the pool, keeping the middle open for slices of buttered bread. You sincerely hope it tastes close enough to what you ate yesterday.

Lastly, you fill glasses with orange juice before carefully heading outside to keep Harry company. You see him floating on his back, arms open, and eyes closed. You set the platter down on a table and tiptoe to the edge of the pool.

To hell with it. You're going to scare him to get him back after trying to tip the kayak yesterday. It's only fair, right?

He's oblivious to everything around him, a peaceful glow on his face. You almost feel bad for deciding to disturb it—especially on your anniversary—but what good is a relationship without a bit of havoc?

You mull over what you could possibly do to frighten him. Maybe throw a cantaloupe piece at him or pretend the car came back destroyed. These are two vastly different ends of the mischief spectrum, and ultimately, the latter is the obvious choice—and the most fun.

"Harry?" you say quietly, changing your expression to make it seem like you're distraught.

"Yeah?" he replies, keeping his eyes closed.

"Um, your friend from yesterday just dropped the car off. Harry, it's—"

His eyes snap open, picking up on your wavering and anxious tone. He stops floating and swims over to where you're standing by the edge.

"What's wrong? Talk to me. Did something happen? Are you okay?" he asks worriedly, his eyes darting between your face and body to check for any signs.

"The car," you whisper, mustering up fake tears. Harry instinctively holds your ankle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "It's destroyed. It looks like it got into an accident. What are we going to do?"

"Seriously? What the hell? How... I don't..." He heaves himself out of the pool and begins walking around the villa toward the driveway. He looks like he's about to punch something, so you suppress your laughter and decide to end the game.

You grab his wrist, spinning him around. He stares at you with panic, and now you feel bad. "I'm kidding, baby. I'm just messing with you. The car is fine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, clasping his cheeks and laughing.

His jaw drops. "You're so mean."

"I'm just getting you back for yesterday. Them's the rules."

"Yeah, but you've been quite sassy all morning, hmm? First, you called me an average boyfriend. Then you didn't even kiss me good morning. That hurts my heart."

"You were completely passed out. How would you have known if I kissed you good morning or not?"

"I can always tell. They bring me back to life."

"Shut up," you scoff, grabbing the platter. "Here's some fruit and homemade bread as a peace offering. Take it or leave it."

"Feed me in the pool, and I'll consider your offer."

"Fine. I'm not getting in, though. I want to sunbathe for a bit.

Harry dramatically rolls his eyes and dives back in. When he emerges, he swims to the edge. You sit down with the platter and let it float next to him before putting your feet in the tepid water. You pick up a slice of bread and hold it to Harry's awaiting mouth. He places your legs over his shoulders, his arms hooking around your upper thighs.

Someone's needy today.

He tosses the bread into his mouth, his eyes rolling back like they did in the wine cellar yesterday. He borderline moans at the taste, his jaw flexing with each chew. After he swallows, he leaves grateful kisses on your thighs. "Deliziosa," he murmurs, paired with more nipping and kissing. You know he's not talking about the bread. The 'a' he added to the end of the word makes it feminine. He's not slick.

Before you both get carried away—wanting to save your pent-up tension for later—you feed him a plethora of fruit before deciding to make both of you an actual meal. You're starving, so you'll catch some sun later.

Harry whines at the loss of contact. You use your foot to push his chest until he's floating on his back again. He throws you a peace sign before you head back inside.

As you whip up a quick breakfast, you watch your boyfriend from the door, appreciating his sunkissed body and tattoos. You smile and think about how time has flown by with him in the most remarkable way.

Three years, and hopefully a lifetime more.

——

You're nervous.

You don't have the faintest idea what Harry's surprise is. All he's said is to dress nicely and not eat anything yet. Maybe he's taking you out to dinner? Or perhaps you'll walk downtown together and stop at vendors. You're stumped. He's annoyingly good at keeping secrets.

It's nearing seven as you add the finishing touches to your makeup. Harry is in the bathroom spraying cologne on his neck, looking casually handsome in a flowing, off-white button-up. He's paired it with matching cotton shorts and sneakers that need washing. You keep telling him to clean them, but he ignores your pleading and claims the dirt gives them character.

A short cherry-colored dress with puffed sleeves adorns your body. Red lipstick to match. Hair loose. The necklace Harry bought you for your last anniversary is glimmering against your neck.

Harry comes behind you in the vanity mirror as you apply a final coat of mascara and starts soothingly scratching your upper back. He can probably sense you're feeling nervous, knowing you don't particularly like surprises. However, you think he looks undeniably handsome, with his new tan and stubble pulling you into his coziness. Somehow, just looking at him eases your nerves.

"Gorgeous," he whispers.

You smooth any remaining wrinkles out of your dress. "Thank you. I'm almost done."

"Take your time," he replies, squeezing your shoulders. "I'll start the car."

You make sure your makeup is smudge-free and then shut the bedroom light off on your way to the front door. Harry is waiting by the passenger side of the Corvette with a distracted look on his face. When he finally sees you coming, he opens the door for you. This time, you accept his gentlemanlike gesture.

He drives to an unknown destination, taking the backroads. You can't even guess where you're headed since everything outside the villa is unfamiliar.

Ten minutes later, Harry slows down and turns right toward what appears to be a small seaside forest. He drives along the path leading through the trees until a hidden beach area eventually reveals itself. He parks the car while you're speechless at the sight before you. The only things on the sand are a round table with two chairs surrounded by tiki torches.

No one else is here. If Harry tells you he rented the entire beach, you'll kill him.

"I rented this portion of the beach for the night."

Of course.

"You're ridiculous," you say, taking in your surroundings. "Thank you, Harry. This is a wonderful surprise."

He ducks his head bashfully. "C'mon, let's eat."

You follow him to the table and sit on the wicker chair across from him. In front of you is a plate of stuffed ravioli with a side of roasted asparagus, cooked just how you like them. Harry has vegan fettuccine Alfredo with peas—a lot of peas. A gagworthy amount.

"I'm floored right now," you say, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you did all this without me knowing."

"I'm a sneaky guy. There were lots of secret phone calls while you were in the shower or swimming in the pool.

You take your sandals off and enjoy the cool sand between your toes. "Yeah, I bet. I'm not even going to ask how much it costs to rent this part of the beach."

"It's not important," he says. "Let's eat, shall we? And talk me through this little outfit you have on. Why on earth haven't I seen you wear it yet?"

Then, both of you eat, talk, and watch the waves glide on the shore. The sun is dipping past the horizon, turning the sky a violet shade with splashes of fading orange. You talk Harry's ear off about random stuff in your life and humorous anecdotes since the trip started. His body naturally leans toward you to give you his undivided attention. He listens the entire time, eyes on you with his chin in the palm of his hand, except for when he pops some spearmint gum into his mouth after finishing his truckload of peas.

After you finish rambling, you wait for him to start talking your ear off. He can usually drone on and on about anything for hours, but right now, he's just sitting and staring at the sunset.

"You're quiet," you point out, gently poking his arm with your fork.

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

He sighs longingly before saying, "I know we still have more than enough time here, but I kind of don't want to leave. I love it here so much. This is the happiest I've ever been."

Your heart melts. "I feel the same way. I could stay here forever and never get bored of it. Especially with you by my side."

Harry finally looks at you, his eyes holding something unreadable yet powerful. He stands abruptly and reaches his hand out. "Let's walk for a bit," he says with a tone that kicks your anxiety into high gear.

You grasp his hand, and he leads you along the shoreline, your feet getting wet whenever the tide washes up. It's quiet except for the pesky seagulls, crashing waves, and salty breeze. Where you are right now makes you want to bottle up the memory so you can keep the feeling forever, replay this trip, and relive the most joyous moments of your life.

Harry eventually stops, facing you with both hands holding yours tightly. He looks... pale. Are his hands shaking, or are you imagining things? Is he about to pass out from sunstroke? Did he eat too many peas?

He clears his throat and visibly gulps, squinting at the sky and exhaling quickly. His feet shuffle nervously. An incomprehensible thought zings to the front of your brain.

Is he about to do what you think he's about to do?

"I might cry and possibly throw up, so please bear with me," he says, his voice shaky.

You just stare at him, unable to say anything. Then he begins lowering himself on one knee, and you just about go down with him.

He removes his hands from yours and takes something out of his pocket. It's a velvet ring box, pink and delicate.

You gasp as Harry opens his mouth, his watery eyes trained on nothing but you. "I love you with all my heart. I'm weak for the things you do, and it consumes me to the point where I feel like I might burst from loving you so much. Every word you speak or smile you give me makes me fall for you deeper and deeper. And you love me back. You love me better than anyone. And I realized when we first met that you're someone I not only want in this life but also need. You're the only one for me, and I'll take care of you, support you, and love you so thoroughly until you get sick of me. I'm rambling now, so I'll shut up and cut to the chase. I want to be your husband. Will you marry me? Please? Il mio cuore è solo tuo. If you want it, it's yours."

Harry finishes his speech by opening the ring box to reveal a silver oval-cut ring that takes your breath away. A tear trails down your cheek as your lips wobble. You nod your head what feels like a thousand times. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. Holy shit."

He laughs beautifully, his eyes squinting so much that the captured tears in his waterline spill over. He stands and shakily puts the ring on the correct finger. It fits perfectly.

You cup his cheeks and bring his face toward yours. "I love you," you say while kissing his flushed and tear-stained cheeks. "You're so sneaky. I wasn't expecting this until you looked like you were going to pass out in front of me."

"Be glad I didn't throw up on your dress."

"That's true." Suddenly, everything hits you. Harry, we're going to get married."

He smiles with unbridled happiness, nodding before picking you up and running into the sea. The splashes he makes strike you with cold splatters, and you squeal, but it quickly turns into uncontrollable laughter when Harry spins you around and dips you toward the water. You squirm with resistance and manage to escape his arms. He stumbles from the waves but remains upright, then stares at you intensely for three seconds before kissing your lips like they're his life source.

"My fiancée," he says, kissing down your face to your neck. "I adore you."

"Can we"—you whimper breathily—"go back to the villa and celebrate? Some wine, dessert, and... maybe some other things."

He can't propose to you while looking this good and expect you not to jump his bones.

"Sì, mi amore."

——

At the villa, palpable tension lingers in the air and throughout your body. The adrenaline from what just happened is still coursing through your blood as Harry makes a beeline straight to the master bedroom. It's only right to follow with shallow breaths and a hammering heartbeat.

Approaching the bedroom, you see Harry already taking off his shirt. You walk over and lie on the bed, waiting for him to initiate the celebration. You're usually the one who likes to be in control, but being the sexually dominant type calls for preparation and the right kind of mood. Now, at this moment, all you want is to writhe in pleasure on silk sheets and feel Harry's touch everywhere.

You're already impatiently aroused because of Harry's teasing on the drive back. His fingers were stroking the inside of your thigh, traveling up, up, up until they reached dangerous territory. He'd start to pull away after realizing how wet you already were, but you would trap his hand with your thighs, making him groan. Two could play at that game.

Now, Harry saunters over to you in nothing but his cotton shorts. His tanned skin looks tempting in the muted lamplight. The rest of the lights are off, and the moon is brightly shining in the indigo sky.

"Ready for me?" he asks lowly, hungrily glancing over your body.

You nod and bend your knees. Harry lies on his stomach and gets between your legs, his hands gripping your upper thighs with fervor. He must've put his rings on when you weren't looking. He knows you love the feeling of them. You're not picky as to where.

"Gonna let me take care of you?"

"Please. Please, Harry."

"Patience, my love. Let me see you."

"I'm right here. Do something. Please, I need you."

He shushes you with a soft timbre, scooting closer to where you need him the most. He lifts your dress, bunches the material up by your stomach, and then readjusts his grip on your thighs. His lips trail closer to your lace underwear, and he looks at you under his eyelashes. His eyes ground you, make you nervous, and leave you spellbound. Maintaining eye contact with him is hard when you know you'll come undone way too quickly from just his intense gaze. You're not giving him the benefit of that. Not tonight, at least.

Instead, you stare at the vaulted ceiling and gasp when his lips graze over your underwear. Soft, purposeful movements have you closing your thighs around your head as a reflex. Open-mouthed kisses over your wet lace drive you crazy. You're clenching and internally soliciting for him to just do something.

"Stop teasing," you say firmly, still not looking at him.

"Don't be bossy."

"I'm not being bossy. You're my fiancé, so you're supposed to be nice to me."

He moves your underwear to the side. "Yeah? Does my fiancée want me to be nice to her? I'm always nice, baby. I'm always good for you; you know that."

"You are. It's true. The nicest man I've ever known. No one has even come close." You squirm with impatience. "Just take them off."

Harry doesn't waste any time, propping himself up to slide the material down your legs. You lift your ankles above his head to fling them off, then plant your feet back on the mattress and spread them wide open so he can resume.

His mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking it, and his nose fits perfectly above it. You moan loudly, your back arching and your hands grasping his neck. You have to look at him now and watch him take care of you like only he knows how. When you do, it's like a sight straight from heaven. His brows are drawn in, his eyes shut, and his pink lips bring you pleasure in the most intimate way.

Harry continues sucking before soothing his tongue along your entrance. Without warning, he removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers. He dives two of them in, curling them in a way that makes you inhale sharply. His mouth occupies itself with kissing the inside of your thighs, biting little marks so you can remember this experience.

The feeling of both his fingers and mouth is overwhelming, and your hand can't help but involuntarily pull his hair.

"God," he mumbles against your thigh. "Do that again, baby."

You pull harder, and a deep, raspy moan leaves his mouth. He begins kissing across your body while his fingers continue to bring you to your peak. He adds a third as he nips your waist, his head exploring under your bunched-up dress. He props one arm up to hover himself over you. You look at him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted, and soft moans escape when he hits a particular spot. He smears a messy kiss on your lips, and you try your best to return it as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

An orgasm quickly forms in your lower stomach. Harry massages your clit with the pad of his thumb to bring you there, knowing your body and when you're about to let go like the back of his hand. He grinds against the bed to soothe his own arousal. He's been hard since your act in the car, having felt your thighs clench around his hands, his fingers so close to his favorite spot. He apparently couldn't help himself.

When Harry hits that final spot that has you crying out, you arch your back and let go. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan from the delightful pressure freely flowing out of your body.

Harry places his mouth back on yours as you finish, removing his fingers from inside you and gripping your hips, leaving a coat of your arousal on the love bites left there. Your body is strong enough to lift yourself on your elbows and leave marks on Harry's neck. He grunts when you bite the sensitive skin below his earlobe and grinds against the bed once more, stilling and then shuddering through a fierce release.

Oh. He came from that one touch.

He falls flat on the bed, cupping himself and breathing heavily. There's a damp spot on his shorts. It's a filthy sight.

"That was embarrassing. I'm sorry," Harry murmurs, his cheek pressed against the pillow. "I thought I'd be able to last."

You brush some sweaty hair off his forehead. "It's fine. I don't have to do any work now."

"Hilarious," he says monotonously. He suddenly jumps up from the bed and shuffles to the bathroom, confusing you. You hear him wash his hands and then turn on the jacuzzi. He returns with a clean pair of boxers and smoothly lifts you from the bed. Your dress covers your exposed state, yet it doesn't hide the slick feeling between your legs. The warm water will feel amazing.

Harry gently sets you on the sink counter as the tub fills up. He grabs a washcloth and dips it under the faucet before cleaning you. It's comfortably silent, with only rushing water in the background.

When the jacuzzi is adequately filled, Harry helps you stand and remove your dress. Once naked, you quickly go to the bathroom while Harry removes his boxers. He then leads you to the jacuzzi to sit down. When he climbs in, you cling onto him for a cuddle as sleepiness washes over you. Harry presses a button to turn the jets on. Everything feels so lovely.

"I can't believe you said yes," he says.

"You knew I would. How could I possibly say no to you after a speech like that?"

"Dunno. We're, like, together forever now." He rubs the ring on your finger. "Well, not yet. But when we actually get married, it's a lifetime with each other. It's wild to think about, but I want nothing more."

"I get what you mean," you say, scrubbing the red lipstick stains on his neck with the pads of your fingers. "I want this with you too."

When you softly rub around his lips, he kisses your finger and looks at you with disbelief. You pluck his swollen bottom lip with your thumb, then lean in to plant a truthful kiss there.

Everything with him is so simple. Every touch is meaningful. Every unspoken word holds the weight of a million words. Every laugh leaves you teary-eyed with a heart full of love.

He is pure love. What he gives so naturally is exactly what he is.

Once your skin turns wrinkly and the water becomes lukewarm, you and Harry get out and dry yourselves off. He retreats to the bedroom to grab pajamas. When he returns, you put on an oversized shirt and walk out of the bathroom after draining the tub, running toward the bed and bellyflopping on it like a kid. Harry shuts the bedroom light off and flops beside you, letting out a long and blissful sigh.

"I'm hungry," he says.

You snort. "You ate a million peas not even an hour ago. How are you still hungry?"

"Sex makes me hungry. And stop making fun of my love of peas. Hey, can you get the cantaloupe? I'm knackered."

His rapid change of topics makes you laugh. "Anything for you, pea boy."

You hear him faintly whine at your new nickname for him as you stroll into the kitchen. You open the refrigerator to grab a bowl of cantaloupe cubes and then return. Harry's eyes are fluttering shut, and his limbs are spread out on the mattress. You climb over him, sitting against the headboard, as he blindly reaches his hand for some fruit. He chews against the pillow, his cheeks squishing adorably.

"Thanks," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Mm-hmm. I'm going to sleep. I'll put the bowl on the nightstand for you."

Once you've moved the cantaloupe, you scoot down and lie on your back. Harry keeps reaching for the bowl without moving his head, sometimes missing entirely and waving his hand around to find it. You eventually close your eyes, a smile making its way to your face when you realize you'll wake up tomorrow as an engaged woman next to your future husband.

Harry finishes all the fruit in the bowl and then turns off the lamp. He tugs you against his chest, and you exhale happily, his warmth effortlessly pulling you under into a deep sleep.

——

Two Weeks Later

After situating yourself in the airplane seat, you pull out your phone and open Instagram. You and Harry are on your way back from Italy. It was an unforgettable two weeks together, and not one day went by without you making new memories.

You had told only the closest people to you about the engagement—your parents and Harry's. No one else knows, so you decided to announce the news with an Instagram post. You wanted to wait until after vacation to worry about making phone calls and giving details about how it happened.

Now, you start creating a post on the fourteen-hour flight to California. You already know what picture to use—Harry cutely holding a bottle of wine along the lusciously green countryside, ready for a picnic date in a park. Also with an impressive mustache. Throughout the ten days after the engagement, Harry decided to grow his faint mustache into a full-fledged one. You don't know how it grew so fast, honestly. You also didn't know how to feel about it at first, but you're accustomed to liking it now. It makes him look mature.

How it feels between your thighs—well, that's a story for another day.

Harry has chosen to post a picture of the ring, gleaming brilliantly in the pink velvet box. And with him being the artsy, moderately strange social media poster, he had to add something extra to the picture—a paint swatch. Both of you spontaneously went paint shopping one day when you got bored in the villa. You had been talking to him for months about redoing the bathroom at the house, so you went to a local paint store to look at different options. Harry, being the sentimental and cheesy man he is, suggested painting it the color of the ring box he proposed with. You remember thinking the diluted pink would complement the white tiles and granite counter of the master bathroom perfectly.

You couldn't possibly refuse the idea, especially since it would always remind you of that special evening on the beach.

You had searched with him to find a color that resembled the box, all while goofing around and laughing at the bizarrely specific names of the swatches. You pointed to a light green swatch appropriately named Peapod and told Harry he should paint the kitchen that color since he loves peas so much. He pouted at you and dramatically walked down another aisle. Typical. And so sensitive about his peas!

Harry is sleeping beside you, his head snugly settled on a pillow propped against the airplane window while soft snores escape his mouth. You'll wait for him to wake up so you can both post at the same time. As for now, you rest your head on his shoulder to also take a nap. Harry stirs and drowsily slaps his hand onto your knee to keep you close.

You'll miss Italy's golden sunsets, good-natured people, and ethereal views. However, the thought of going home and beginning a new chapter with your fiancé doesn't sound too bad.

Bliss, in all its glory, takes hold once again.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #pink velvet

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strangemaleswaps · 1 year

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Strange Sleepy Swap

I absolutely hate family vacations. Don't get me wrong, the vacation part is pretty nice. The fact that I'm with my family is the problem. Each year we go to some new crazy location, which would've been fun if they didn't embarrass me every single moment. Normally it's some dumb place within the states, but this time we're going out of the country. I turned 18 a few months ago and just graduated high school, so my parents thought it was a special occasion. Oh, it's going to be special all right - it's the last time I'll be forced to go with them! As soon as the summer's over, I'm moving across the state for college, and hopefully I'll never see them again! But for now, my parents set their sights on Brazil. I guess that's where they went on their first trip together. But I'd rather go to much cooler countries like France or Japan.

So, arriving in Brazil, we moved through the airport - me, my dad, mom, and little sister. There were so many hot guys and good looking people in general walking through the halls. I wanted to flirt with them so badly! But my parents would probably call the police if I went out of their sight for a single minute. We took a taxi and arrived at our hotel room. I found out that there were only 2 bedrooms - one for my parents and one for my little sister and I. I can't even jerk off in the privacy of my own bedroom anymore! I unpacked my stuff anyway, just as my mom walked into the room.

"Are you hungry, kids?" I hate being called a kid. I'm 18! Nobody seems to understand that I'm a legal adult now!

"Yeah," we both replied.

"How about we visit some of the local places to see some culture?"

"Lame," I said.

"Jackson, YOU are going to go with us and YOU are going to like it!" My mom ordered.

"Fine."

Outside the hotel, my dad arrived with our rental car. We drove through the streets but ended up parking in what looked like the poor part of town. I thought we were going to a nice restaurant?

"What the hell are we doing here?"

"Language, Jackson! This is what I was talking about! What better way to see the local culture than to visit the local marketplace?"

We got out and I looked around. The roads and buildings were all run down and there was a gross scent in the air. The marketplace was thriving anyway, but the people there were all ugly. No hot guys! We bought some kind of pastry, eating it at a nearby table. It tasted awful! When we finished, we all split up to explore the rest of the marketplace; I didn't even bother to look at anything else because I knew I wouldn't find anything good.

I walked down the road and saw an open garage-like area with some people inside. Outside sleeping in a chair, was an obese guy with a belly so big, it hung right out of his blue tank top, and covered his knees entirely! His belly button was so big, you could probably fit an entire fist in there! He was probably the grossest human being I've ever seen in my life! It was guys like that that made me feel at least somewhat grateful that I'm so young and skinny.

I walked right past and suddenly he grabbed my arm. His eyes stayed closed though, so I guess it was some form of sleepwalking. I was disgusted anyway, so I jumped backwards and shouted at him.

"Get away from me you disgusting slob!"

He stayed asleep even after that. But I definitely needed to wash my arm now. Who knows what kind of diseases he was carrying? I started walking towards a restroom, when I felt like I was being watched. I looked to my right to see a creepy old lady staring at me from between two buildings. She was so hideous, she looked like a witch! I ran inside and quickly washed my hands. I walked out of the bathroom, only to come face to face with the witch lady.

"Ahh! Who are you?"

"You don't like your family do you?" Is she trying to relate to me or something? Gross! I answered her anyway.

"Yeah. So?"

"Would you do anything to get away from them?"

"Yeah I guess. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about." Anger rushed to my brain and out my mouth.

"Nothing? You can't just ask about my problems then offer to do nothing! Get out of my face you old hag!" Her smile changed to an angry frown but then back to a smile.

"Very well, you want me to do something? I will do something." She took a piece or chalk and started drawing a circle around my feet.

"What? Are you using your witchy magic or something?" I said, sarcastically. She ignored me and continued. With a full circle of purple chalk around me, she put her hands together and started mumbling something. The circle below me was glowing! Not just that, but I was actually sinking into the ground! Is this some kind of portal? If I could teleport to my college campus that would be great! Even better, a gay bar or somewhere I can freely be myself!

I sunk lower and lower until it was just my head and neck sticking out. I looked up at her and said "Thank you." For some reason, instead of a friendly smile, it seemed like an evil smirk. As my eyes were about to fully submerge into the ground, I closed them.

When I opened them back up, I was sitting down inside, but was disappointed that the same bad smell was in the air. Looks like she teleported me, but it wasn't very far. I knew that witch was full of shit. I guess I should find my family again; it had been an hour and they were probably worried. I tried to get up but something was wrong. I looked down to see what was keeping me grounded when my heart started thumping extremely fast. Gone was my slim body, which was replaced with an overly large hanging gut. What the fuck happened to me? Is it touching my knees? Wait, I recognize that gut! It can't be! I've turned into that one gross slob! Was this that witch's way of getting revenge?

I didn’t want to, but I felt compelled to touch the gut. Unlike before, he was completely shirtless so the massive hanging blubber was visible for everyone to see. I looked at my huge sausage fingers, and poked it. It jiggled. I took my whole hand and pressed into the flab over and over. My whole belly rippled like a body of water. It was actually kinda fun and felt nice. No, what am I doing? I gotta get my body back.

Trying to get up was the hardest part. I had to summon all my strength in order to force the weight of the gut off of me, and plant my feet on the ground as hard as I possibly could. When I got my ass out of the chair, gravity took hold of my gut and I nearly fell over. Slowly, I got myself back onto my feet.

I couldn't even see the bottom of my gut but I could feel it touching my knees! I grabbed the bottom of it and shook. I stuck my hands between the overhang and my waist, and felt a river of sweat hiding underneath. I swear if I ever get back to my body, I'll never insult any fat guy ever again!

I tried walking back to the same bathroom I was just at, but it was more like a waddle. The gut was swinging back and forth, slapping my knees every time, pain with each slap. My back was killing me too. My entire body ached! How did this guy let himself go this far? I squeezed through the door and saw my face for the first time in the mirror. I had gray hair and silver stubble. I was an old man! My whole face was huge and I had a double chin. This can't be happening. I'm only 18!

I walked out of the bathroom just as my family strolled by. Finally! For once I was happy to see them! It'll be weird but I'm sure they can help me get back to normal somehow. I waddled over, approaching them, and freaked out when I saw…me! There was a college aged guy who looked exactly like me alongside them. Is he the owner of the body I'm in? He must be!

"Hey it's you! You have my body!" Everyone turned around, surprised to see me. My parents narrowed their eyes.

"What? What's this about bodies? Who are you?" My dad demanded.

"Mom, Dad, its me, Jackson! There was a witch that swapped our bodies! That guy isn't me!"

"What? Who do you think you are, talking to my son that way? Get out of here creep!" The guy in my body pretended to be just as confused as they were. That liar! Instead of taking any action, they just walked away, shaking me off as just some homeless creep. They probably assumed I wouldn't be able to catch up to them…and they were right. I felt exhausted already, but managed to shout one last sentence at them.

"Wait c-come back! I'm sorry! I'll never complain about vacations again!" The guy who stole my body turned his head around and gave an evil smirk at me. I looked to my right to see the witch again.

"You wanted to be away from them and your wish was granted. Here, you might want this." She tossed me what looked like a shirt, but it was huge. "Paolo gets especially lazy sometimes and doesn't feel like putting on a shirt. You'll get used to it, but here's one just in case."

I wanted to argue but I couldn’t. I just…gave up. I was feeling tired so I slipped the shirt on, pulling it as far over my belly as I could, and waddled over back to the garage area. My knees were killing me at this point so I stood next to the chair I was sitting on earlier, rotated myself, and firmly plopped onto it. All the pain went away and I started feeling drowsy. I rolled up the shirt a little and stuck my finger inside my belly button, playing with it. Am I getting hard? I shouldn't be so turned on but I am! I then pressed my belly in, seeing and feeling the ripples until I finally fell asleep. Haha…Maybe this won't be so bad afterall. I'm finally away from my family, and I can just sleep the day away…everyday…

#strangemaleswaps #male body swap #body swap #weightgain #young to old

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unremarkablehouse · 2 months

Text

"If I were that Stoned..." Ch 1

Mature | MSR | S1 | WC 2,424 | AO3 | Ch 1/2

Summary: based on the prompt “Following the end of the “Deep throat” episode, Scully finally answers Mulder’s question ‘If you were that stoned what?’l

Notes: cleaning up my Master Fic list and posting stories from exchanges on my Tumblr.

Tagging: @today-in-fic

His head lolled on the passenger headrest as they drove in silence, oblivious to the shards of glass on the seat and the broken window. Disoriented and struggling to find his bearings Mulder ran through the last few days in his mind until he hit the blank spots. It was as if a word was caught on the tip of his tongue, and try as he might he just could not conjure it up the missing memories. As they passed the street the Budahas’ lived on Mulder suddenly became very animated and insisted they stop and check on them. Certain that if someone knew what the Base did to his memories, it was Colonel Buddahas. Their arrival to the house was met with a cold dismissal from Mrs Buddahas and Mulder’s indignation was enough to make Scully snap, her own sense of discombobulation from the turmoil of the last day catching up on her.

Taking control of the situation, Scully made it very clear that she would not be indulging Mulder anymore, and for the first time he realized just how mad she actually was. Dutifully, Mulder got back into the vehicle, becoming more cognizant of his surroundings as they drove off. The road towards the Base fence was ingrained in his consciousness but he didn’t dare question Scully as she pulled to a stop near the damaged fence instead of their motel. Wordlessly, Scully placed a gun in the car's glove box and locked it, Mulder’s concern grew wondering how she got her hands on the gun and the car.

“Mulder, hand me the car keys.”

It took a moment for him to comprehend her instructions, but he found the keys to the rental in his pants pocket and dropped them in her waiting hand.

“Mulder, I want you to get out of the car and wait for me at our rental, and God help you if you go near that fence.”

Not wanting to test her, Mulder quickly complied and made his way over to the rental car he had abandoned earlier.

Struggling to piece together these tidbits of information, Mulder felt a swell of remorse at the memory of stranding her at the hotel. As he walked to the passenger side door he spotted a tuft of ginger hair resting against it. The stoner kid had been waiting for him, his trusty moped ready nearby. Mulder gently nudged the teen’s shoulder to wake him, and was greeted with a big relieved smile.

“Mulder! Dude, we were worried about you.”

“I’m alright-”

The teenager eyed Mulder’s bedraggled state carefully, both of them aware that the ordeal he had endured was not something that could easily be brushed off. The slam of a car trunk got the teenagers attention, on high alert for danger like a spooked squirrel, still tense when he realized the noise was made by Agent Scully.

In a hushed tone the teen whispered to Mulder, “man, you should have seen your Partner, she went all Rambo on this Suit. Stole his car and held him at gunpoint just to find you.”

“What?”

Mulder looked over to his petite Partner standing by the strange car and started putting the pieces together.

“Dude, you don’t want to piss her off, she’s a badass.”

Scully’s footsteps approaching in their direction was enough to hurry the teen along, obviously intimidated by her. Mulder gave a bemused grin as the kid took off on his scooter, shouting “bye!” in an obvious attempt to avoid Scully.

“What was that about?” Scully asked as she opened the driver's door and let Mulder into the passenger side.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Scully wasn’t thrilled by that response but was focused on moving and quickly got the car on the road. Mulder noticed smoke coming out of the car that they had just vacated, suddenly it was engulfed in flames as they sped past in their rental.

“Scully, what the hell did you do!?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Scully replied in an ascorbic tone, not bothering to turn her head to even glance at the car she just torched.

Mulder was sure he was having some sort of psychotic break. His goodie two shoes FBI partner just stole a car, held a man at gunpoint, saved his ass, torched the car and didn’t even break a sweat. Who the hell was this woman!?

Making quick work of driving back to their motel, Scully ordered Mulder to stay in the car while she grabbed their things. Mulder felt a sting as she made sure to take the car keys with her; it was clear that Scully no longer trusted him. He wanted to make a crack about leaving the radio on for him but he could see she was in no mood for his glib jokes and he was fresh out of righteous indignation to justify his behavior. Mulder had fucked up big time. He had screwed over his new partner- who just proved to be a trustworthy ally, and all it got him was fragmented memories. Not to mention the Air Force would probably come gunning for him. And her. As he realized his actions could very well have cost Agent Scully her job too he felt sick with regret. He made a mental note to contact Deep Throat and the Senator when they got back, vowing to do anything and everything to protect her job. Just as Mulder was about to bury himself in a hole of self hatred, Scully opened the car door abruptly and handed him a bottle of water and two aspirin.

“Take these,” she instructed, Mulder quickly obeyed while Scully ran her fingers through his hair looking for signs of trauma.

“Do you have any dizziness or nausea?”

“A little nauseous and my head hurts, but I’m ok.”

Scully’s concern for his well-being was touching and definitely more than he deserved.

They drove in a weighted silence, Mulder resting with his eyes closed again and trying to summon the right words to say to her.

“Scully, I’m sorry. I never should have taken off on you like that.”

“It was stupid Mulder, you could have gotten killed or God knows what. I was worried about you.”

“You’re right, but also thank you for what you did back there, getting me off the Base.”

“You don’t have to thank me Mulder, I’m your Partner, but you need to decide to trust me or this is never going to work. Not that it really matters now, this is probably our last case.”

“I’ll make sure that it’s not, but trust goes both ways. I know I screwed up but I think we could be a really great team, if you still wanted to work with me.”

With his earnest tone and his sad puppy dog expression, Scully was powerless over her smile.

“Good to hear Partner. We’ve got 4 hours until we hit Sioux City, why don’t you try and get some rest.”

“Okay, Doc.”

Sioux City, Iowa

He found her in the hotel bar, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her legs swinging from the chair with two empty shot glasses in front of her sipping on a coke. Scully didn’t look old enough to be drinking at a bar, but you could never take this woman at face value he mused.

“Hey Lady, can I buy you a drink?”

Scully twirled around on her stool and her face lit up when she saw him. Her brilliant smile affected him, stealing his breath for a moment.

“Shot of whiskey,” she answered and Mulder motioned at the bartender to prepare two shots which were unceremoniously placed in front of them. Mulder clinked shot glasses with her but before he could drink Scully grabbed his wrist, “Mulder, wait. You shouldn’t be drinking, you were showing signs of delirium that could have been brought on by any number of drugs.”

Mulder was amused by her constant consideration, “I’m feeling a lot better now, no more nausea. Maybe they fixed that loose screw?”

“Okay, you can have one,” Scully agreed warily and resumed her post clinking shot glasses with him. They didn’t break eye contact as they drank, issuing a challenge to one another. The air was charged and Mulder found it incredibly sexy that Scully downed her shot in one smooth motion, not making any facial reactions. Mulder tried to suppress his wince, but the liquor burnt all the way down and then left a painful residue in his mouth. He grabbed for Scully’s coke and took a hefty swing to get rid of the taste. To his surprise, and relief, it was just coke and it instantly soothed the burning.

“You okay Mulder?” Scully was affectionately amused by his less than suave drinking abilities.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Mulder admitted with a sheepish grin that earned him a gentle reassuring arm squeeze from Scully. Mulder’s body was filled with a warm sensation and he wondered whether he was intoxicated from the whiskey or from his Partner. He was willing to bet the latter.

“Come on Scully, I ordered a pizza, let’s eat.”

Mulder motioned to the bartender for the bill and closed out Scully’s tab, before she could complain he gave her a look and silently gestured that he owed her.

Grabbing his arm with both her hands Scully pulled herself down from the stool and allowed him to guide her to his room.

“Take me to your pizza-“ Scully commanded in her best Alien impersonation that made them both chuckle. Yup, Mulder was definitely drunk off of Scully.

The playful mood continued as they bantered and teased each other while sharing dinner in Mulder’s hotel room. Like magnets, they couldn’t seem to stop touching each other with gentle nudges and bumps, sitting closer than needed in order to maintain some form of contact.

Mulder’s eyes betrayed the intelligence of his mind as his brain tried to formulate a question. With a steady look, Mulder’s tone turned serious.

“Scully, the Stoner kid said you held a guy hostage and demanded he take me to you.”

“Mulder, with the amount of drugs he’d consumed he’s hardly credible witnesses,” Scully responded with a smug grin.

“Ok, but why did you torch the Base guy’s car? They obviously know you’re the one who took it?”

“They stole our guns, cut off our phones and did God knows what with you. I was pissed.”

Unable to suppress his laughter, Mulder was filled with sheer wonderment.

“Remind me not to piss you off!”

“Ditch me again Mulder and see what happens,” Scully said as she playfully bumped his shoulder.

“So let’s circle back to what you’d do if you were that stoned?” Mulder nudged Scully back trying to steer the conversation back into safer territory.

“I don’t think you could handle it, Mulder. What about you, have you been that high?”

“I smoked a little weed in college, but not much because it made me paranoid.”

“You, paranoid?!”

“Shocking, I know. But this one time I was in Amsterdam with an ex-girlfriend and I ate what I thought was a blueberry muffin from a cafe before we were meant to do a tour of the city. It turns out that it was Space cake, needless to say I missed the tour. My ex found me outside the cafe 3 hours later. Apparently, I had spent the whole time trying to cross the road to meet up with the group but I kept missing the light at the crosswalk.”

“Why didn’t your girlfriend go back for you sooner?”

“Scully, in my experience, I’m not the guy people go back for.”

The look between them was rich as they silently pledged their loyalty to one another.

“So what about you Scully?”

“No, I’ve never eaten Space cake in Amsterdam. I just smoked a little in college and Med school. One thing I miss-“ Scully stopped herself and cut the story off with a never mind. Mulder was instantly intrigued and he had to know what she was about to say.

“It was nothing. It’s just, have you ever had sex while stoned?”

Mulder shook his head, excited to see where this conversation was going. Scully had his undivided attention and she decided to draw it out for him.

“You know it’s an experience. The whole world reduces to just you and your partner. All that exists is the sensation of them touching you and release. Everything is heightened, it can be intense.”

Mulder’s heart was in his throat and his whole body was frozen, just when he thought he knew this woman she flipped the script on him again.

“Alright Mulder, I’ve rendered you speechless. My work here is done, I’m going to bed.”

“Wait... We could watch a movie… they’ve got Showtime-“

Mulder internally cringed at how lame that sounded but was delighted when Scully looked interested.

“Alright Mulder, let me just change into my pajamas and we can watch a movie.”

Mulder quickly attempted to clean up while Scully disappeared into her adjoining room. Brushing his teeth Mulder retrieved his worn pajama pants and Knicks T-shirt, wanting to make sure Scully didn’t feel underdressed when she returned. Scully’s blue satin pajamas were a far cry from the frumpy flannel pants and baggy sweatshirts she wore on their first case. Mulder didn’t know what elicited the change, but he liked it.

“Are these new?” Mulder asked, running his fingers over the soft satin sleeve.

“Yeah, they were a gift from my sister actually.”

“So soft. I like them!” Mulder declared with a boyish grin that made Scully laugh in a way that was not entirely platonic.

“Come on, let's watch a movie, but no aliens or horror.”

They settled on an old Humphrey Bogart movie, both of them fans of Film Noir. It was not long into the movie that Scully stopped quipping with him, and Mulder looked down to discover she’d fallen asleep. In her sleep, her hand reached out and grabbed his, and his heart constricted at the sight of her tiny hand clutching his while she slept. Mulder wasn’t sure whether he should wake her, but carefully adjusted himself so he could comfortably lie down next to her with their hands joined.

He woke up to darkness, it was early morning and she was gone. The spare hotel blanket had been placed over him and she’d turned the tv off. Mulder smiled as he attempted to go back to sleep, his new Partner definitely was a badass.

#txf #the x files #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #txf fanfic #xfiles fanfiction #x files fanfic

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son-of-drogo · 1 year

Text

Adulting protips with Jaz:

-if your underwear is crunchy after it's been though the wash, throw it away.

-always keep a can of minced garlic in your fridge. Not only does it ward off vampires and the British Royal family, but it's a super easy way to flavor your dishes without having to cut up garlic.

-Keep these things with you whenever you go out: condoms, tampons, and a first aid kit.

-And make sure you have colored band aids, it's super helpful if the person who's injured is a kid.

-If you live in an area where it gets cold, spend the money on a good pair of winter boots. It's better to spend $100 or more on a pair that will last 5-10 winters than $20 for a pair that will only make it though one.

-Actually, when you can, always buy good quality. I have knives that were my great grandmother's that have lasted better than the knives I got five years ago.

-Do not ever, ever answer your phone on your day off when work calls. And above all, if they ask if you can come in, always say no. If you say yes once, they'll know you're willing to come in on your day off and keep calling.

-Don't go above and beyond at work. I know you want to seem like a good worker, but if you do that you're gonna end up doing the job of three people for one person's pay.

-Just always assume that your job is trying to take advantage of you. Because 90% of them are.

-A vacation does not have to be expensive. You do not even need to go out of state. Seriously, just take a few days off and find something cheap and fun to do.

- in that vein, beach towns are obscenely cheap to visit in the off season. We went to Myrtle Beach this past March and it was like half the price for a rental and there was still plenty to do.

-Buy the shit you want, do the shit you want. We only get one go around and as long as you're not hurting yourself or others, do what you want.

-In the same vein, eat whatever you want, unless there's some medical reason you can't.

-Your hobbies do not have to have value. You do not have to learn a skill to make money. Sometimes it's just fun to make things.

-You will get so much further in life if you just listen to people (unless they're bigots obvs). Especially marginalized people.

-If someone does not treat you well, you do not have to keep them in your life. This includes family, this includes longtime friends. You do not owe anyone a relationship.

-Setting boundaries is a totally normal part of any healthy relationship.

-if therapy is available to you, I highly recommend going. It's a great way to work through your thoughts and feelings with an unbiased person.

-Always, always, ALWAYS trust your gut. It can literally save your life.

-You're probably not going to stay friends with the people you knew in high school. As you grow up, people grow apart and that's totally ok.

#adulting tips

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obscureblorbofics · 1 year

Text

Dracula and Chill (NSFW)

Foxy Coltrane x gn!reader

18+ only! Minors be gone!

Summary: reader goes on vacation to Mexico with friends and meets Foxy in a bar.

Warnings: smut, mention of Foxy being a serial killer (does it really need to be said? If you've watched the movie you already know), alcohol

Length: 3.5k words

(For the purpose of the fic, reader is American and AFAB)

-----

Your phone rings.

"Any chance you'd want to go on vacation with us next month?"

Alexis had been your friend all throughout high school and was trying to set something up with a few friends so you could catch up without the pressures of work or responsibilities. You think for a second before responding back.

"I have some vacation time saved up. Let me know when and where"

"Durango, Mexico. Not the most interesting place but it's cheap and it'll definitely be a nice change of pace for a week. Thinking February 16th to the 23rd. Brooke already said that week is free for her and I'm still waiting for a response from Ryan"

You check your calendar, seeing nothing pre-planned to stop you. You put the call on hold and call your boss to ask about getting that week off. He makes note of it and tells you to have fun.

"Yea I'm free that week. Need to get my passport updated before then but we should be good"

The plane lands, jolting you awake. The drunk bachelorette party a few rows in front of you woops and hollers rowdily. You look to Alexis, who had mentioned a headache a mere 20 minutes into the flight. You offer a sympathetic glance, to which she responds with a smile. You grab both of your carry ons out of the overhead bin, handing her hers and checking on the row behind you that contained the rest of the group. The four of you exit the plane and go through the usual post-flight bathroom breaks.

After everyone is out and accounted for, the group heads to the rental desk and goes through the process of renting a car. After maybe about twenty minutes of driving, you come upon the shabby little hotel Brooke's uncle owned and had left to her cousin upon his death.

Once checked in and settled in your rooms, the four of you leave to get dinner. You find a little restaurant nearby and order food.

Dinner conversation is mostly tame and what you'd expect from the group. Alexis commented on how Brooke's cousin flirted with her when offering the group a discounted rate. Ryan tells the group about scoring his dream job that he'd be starting in April. Brooke showing everyone pictures of her son and talking about how motherhood has treated her.

The next morning the group of you set out sightseeing in the city nearby rather than stay in the small town for the whole time. Once you head back, Ryan has an idea.

"I saw a bar not far from the hotel. We should check it out. Might be interesting" he shrugs and you all agree it's worth trying.

The four of you make your way to the bar and order your drinks. They're out fairly quickly, and you get to exploring the place. There's a few rowdy men throwing knives at a particle board target, some women who seem to be there mainly for the purpose of getting laid and not much else, a few isolated groups of patrons, and the trio at the other end of the bar. They're all roughly middle aged, but the blonde woman with them has the energy level of a teenager. She seems to be the life of the party in the bar.

The two men with her, however.. The older one seemed irritated at the woman's antics, clearly trying to pick up a woman at a table nearby. The other one was attractive to say the least. Tall and lanky, with longish honey brown hair and blue eyes. You'd always had a thing for older men. And he was looking straight at you. His face broke into a smug grin and he winked before bringing his attention back to the other people he was there with.

You take this as a sign to get back to your friends as well. You tune back into the conversation, noting it to be about everyone's college experiences. Not much for you to add. You finish your drink up only to see another slide in front of you once you put the empty one down. You arch an eyebrow in a silent request for explanation. The bartender shrugs and points to the end of the bar. At the man you were just observing. He gestures for you to come over.

You let your friends know you're going to look around some more and 'socialize with the locals' as you so put it, before slipping away and joining the stranger.

As soon as you approach him, he gives you the same shit eating grin as earlier. "Hey sweetheart, come here often?"

You roll your eyes at the cheesy overused line. "First time. Vacation with friends. What about you?"

He shrugs. "Been living in the area 'bout 3 months. Not much to do 'round here" He pauses for a moment. "Oh where are my manners? I'm Foxy."

You offer a weak smile at his introduction. "I'm (Y/N)."

He smirks. "Lovely name for a lovely person. Mind sticking around a while?"

"I don't see why not."

He offers you a chair and you sit down.

The two of you talk for what seems like hours before Brooke approaches you. "We're heading back to the hotel. Here's the spare key to the room whenever you're ready." She drops the key in your hand and you stash it away in your pocket.

Foxy takes a look behind him real quick. You notice the other people he was there with are gone. "Well. It looks like Otis and Baby ditched. How bout you join me and we ditch too?"

You agree and he pays off your tab for you, throwing an arm around you and guiding you out of the bar. After walking down the street for maybe ten minutes you come upon a modest building. The other man from earlier, Otis you presume, is sitting in a lawn chair with a beer. He notices the two of you and waves at Foxy but says nothing.

Foxy holds the door open for you, and swats at your behind as you enter.

You take a look around, checking out your surroundings as you head for the couch. Nothing too out of the ordinary besides the large number of weapons either openly out on display or poorly hidden. To be fair you did hear about some gang activity nearby so it couldn't hurt to be cautious if you live in the area.

He sits down next to you. The two of you talk about backgrounds for a while. You find out the people he was with earlier were his siblings. Otis you had seen on the way in and Baby was out doing who knows what. He mentions being really into classic movies and having amassed a fairly large collection of them. You offer to watch one with him if he didn't mind and he leads you to the bedroom.

The inside of Foxy's bedroom is exactly what you'd expect. Old movie posters on the wall and a large hunting knife on the nightstand accompanied by several empty beer bottles. You sit down on the bed and he puts a VHS tape in the player before sliding into bed next to you. Once the movie starts you notice it's the original Dracula.

About twenty minutes into the movie Foxy wraps his arm around your shoulders and you instinctively lean into him. You don’t take your attention off the movie to look at him, but you hear a low chuckle beside you.

After another half hour or so a hand makes its way to your thigh. You ignore it at first, but then it slides higher and begins to squeeze, so you glance over at the man beside you. Same shit eating grin you’ve come to associate with him.

“Well don’t look at me, babydoll. Pay attention to the movie.”

You cautiously obey, not sure where this would go, but certainly not mad at the development. A minute or so of squeezing and rubbing your thigh later, he goes for your pants button. You turn back around to say something about it, but he quickly stops you, shushing you gently before replying in the same cocky tone that got you into this situation to begin with.

"I said focus on the movie. Don't mind me havin’ a feel."

The second he says that, you feel his hand slip into your underwear. He uses the arm still around you to move you into his lap. His fingers make their way down, checking for evidence that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. He drags his fingers through the wetness he found there, bringing them up to play with your clit. At first he was gentle, barely touching you. Ghosting over where you wanted him most and teasing you experimentally to see what made you gasp and squirm. He figured this out rather quickly, judging by the way you were panting and squirming and trying to close your legs around his hand.

You lay back into his chest and feel him hard and poking into your back. This somehow makes you even wetter. He gets you right to the edge but when you're about to cum, he backs off.

Foxy waits for you to cool down before he begins again, filling this time by placing soft kisses all over your neck. You moan and tilt your head to give him better access.

Once he deems it safe to continue without you finishing too soon, he moves a finger down to your entrance. It stays there for a moment, gathering you juices, before he easily slides it all the way in. You gasp and grab onto his thigh next to you. Your legs begin to shut again on their own accord, but he holds them open, making sure you can’t move away. He pumps it in and out experimentally, waiting until you calm down to add a second. His fingers curl up inside you, perfectly hitting your g-spot. When he figures out he found the right spot, he rubs it in soft circular motions. Your eyes flutter closed and he stops.

“Watch the movie. It’s almost over. Wouldn’t want you missin’ the ending, now would we?” Foxy flashes you a toothy grin and you try to focus on the screen.

He starts again, and you’re careful to keep your attention on the movie rather than Foxy. You only really have to hold out another ten minutes before the movie ends and the screen fades to black. As soon as the movie is over, he grabs your throat, squeezing just hard enough to be pleasurable.

He pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them off in his mouth.

“Damn, doll. You taste good. You should have a taste.” and with that, he kisses you. It’s sloppy and dirty, but still soft enough to be enjoyable. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he’s right. It is good.

You get off his lap and stand up to take your clothes off. He watches closely as you expose more and more skin.

Foxy jumps up and joins you, quickly throwing his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. He rips his pants and underwear down his legs and pushes you down on the bed. His hand cracks down on your ass and your hips jolt forward, away from him. He cackles like a madman at your reaction and slaps the other side with just as much force. This time you’re expecting it, and it actually feels good. So naturally, you lean into his touch.

“Dirty little thing, aren’t ya?” You nod, rubbing your thighs together to try to get some friction. “Ya want some more?” You nod again. “Gonna have to ask me nicely.” You whimper out, trying to muster up a singular brain cell to give him a coherent response.

“P-please Foxy. Please give me more.” you stutter out shakily.

“Gladly.” He rapid fire gives you six more slaps before grabbing and squeezing your ass. It stings and you can feel the warmth radiating from your flesh, but you can also feel how soaking wet you are. So can he. You feel the head of his cock slipping through your wetness. You try to push back on it, desperately needing filled up. His grip on your hips stops you in your tracks.

“Patience, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon. I like to have a little fun first.” He takes the next few moments to slowly, torturously tease you with his cock before he finally lines up with your pussy and pushes inside. He lets out a deep pleasured groan directly into your ear. You moan at the feeling of finally being stretched open. It’s been a while, and Foxy is giving you exactly what you need.

“Damn, dollface. You feel so good. Might have to keep you around just for this.” He rolls his hips a few times experimentally, figuring out what you do and don’t like, and which spots to hit to make you writhe beneath him. Just like with his fingers, he finds it quickly and you moan, definitely louder than you should've considering there are other people in the house, but you’re too focused on the pleasure Foxy is giving you to think about anything else. He grabs your hip with one hand, and the other goes down to rub your clit. The room is full of the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass, your wetness squelching around his cock, and the combined noises from both of you and that ambiance is more arousing than you would’ve thought. After a few particularly hard thrusts and his hand that was previously on your hip making its way around your throat, you feel yourself begin to get close. The hand around your throat squeezes enough to make your vision start to blur and it intensifies everything you're feeling in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“Foxy, yes! Don’t stop!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm moments away.

“That’s it. Cum for me, sweetheart”

Your orgasm hits, and it’s blinding. You’re vaguely aware of Foxy groaning beside your ear and a warm feeling spreading inside you. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and rolling to collapse beside you. You crawl back up into the bed and he follows you. Your head makes its way to his chest, sweaty bodies slightly sticking together in a way that would otherwise seem gross, but in your post-coital bliss is endearing. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep in your comfy embrace.

The next morning, you wake up, naked, in an unfamiliar place, using someone’s stomach as a pillow. You look around and remember the events of last night. Finding someone at the bar. Going home with him. Watching Dracula. The sex.

You quickly get dressed and sneak out of the house, walking back to the hotel. You unlock the door to the room you’re sharing with your friends, and they're having breakfast. Brooke glances up to look at you, and laughs.

“Ooh the walk of shame. Assuming things went well with mystery man from the bar last night?”

You nod, looking anywhere but her. “I’m going to go shower.”

That night, the group decides to go back to the same bar, reasoning that they had decently good drinks and were reasonably close to the hotel, so they could get drunk without worrying about having a designated driver.

The group orders their drinks and finds a table. Not long after sitting down, Ryan elbows you in the ribs to get your attention.

“Hey (Y/N), isn’t that your guy from last night?”

You cautiously turn your head to look in the direction he’s gesturing to and see Foxy with his siblings that you briefly met yesterday. Otis and Baby, you think. But of course you weren’t focused on too much other than him.. And that damn movie he wouldn't let you look away from. You nod.

“You should go talk to him” Alexis encourages, quickly catching onto the gist of the conversation.

You shook your head. “Nah. I figured it was more of a one night stand than anything else.” The thought was tempting though. He was cute, great in bed, and from what you knew you got along well with him. But he lived here and you were just on vacation. You had to go back home in four days. Better not to get too attached to people you meet on vacation.

However, across the room, Foxy was debating the same thing. Hook ups were nice and all, but sometimes he got greedy, wanting more than the limited connection allowed by one night of sex. He had explained his dilemma to his siblings. Otis laughed, accusing him of going soft on them, then suggesting he just kidnap you. That wouldn’t work. They had just built a decent life where no one would be looking for them, it wouldn’t be good to ruin that because he wanted pussy.

Baby, however, was a little more sympathetic to his situation and had better advice than kidnapping. She suggested that he just talk to you. To lay the charm on thick the way he was known to. He thought about it for a moment, before concluding she wasn't wrong. It was at least worth a shot. So he got up and started heading for your table

The conversation had moved on from what you did last night to what your former high school classmates were up to now. Ryan’s eyes widened slightly, and you didn’t have time to ask why before a set of hands settled themselves on your shoulders.

“Damn, sweetheart. Didn’t even wake me up for a proper goodbye?”

You blushed. Apparently the decision of whether or not to talk to Foxy again had been made for you. Your friends immediately started paying attention to the two of you, deeming this much more entertaining than what they were previously talking about. You, however, didn’t really want to have this conversation with an audience. So you got up, telling Foxy you wanted to go somewhere more private to talk. He agreed, and led you to the bar’s patio area.

The two of you sit down at a table outside and discuss the things that happened last night. How you liked the movie. How you liked what happened during and after. Why you left without waking him. He found a piece of paper and scribbled his phone number down on it, hoping you’d at least stay in contact for the rest of your vacation. You shoved it in your pocket with the key for the hotel room, making a mental note to call him later. Then he drops the line you were hoping to hear, but unsure if you would. He wanted last night to happen again. So did you. So it did. You actually waited for him to wake up before leaving this time and were rewarded with some nice morning sex. That happened two more times before you had to leave.

Once back in the states, you had maintained loose contact with Foxy. Of course a good majority of your phone calls would end in phone sex, but getting to talk to him was always nice, long distance fees be damned. One night, you’re on the phone with him while you make dinner. The news is playing on the TV in the background, and you're only barely paying attention to it. But the one time you do look over to the TV, you drop the phone in shock. Three mugshots are displayed on the TV with the information that there’s been a search for them for several months. One of them being Foxy, and the other two being his siblings that you’ve come to be acquainted with during your visits to their house. You knew they seemed familiar for a reason. You scramble to pick up the phone and put it to your ear to catch Foxy asking if you’re still there and asking what happened.

“You’re.. You’re on TV” you manage to whisper out.

“Aw fuck, babydoll. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out” He then briefly explains what all happened and asks if you’re going to try to turn him in. Your mind however, is somewhere completely different.

“Wait.. your name is actually Winslow?”

“Yeah.. really doesn’t fit me too well, does it?”

“I absolutely get why you go by Foxy now.. No offense, but Winslow is an unmoanable name if I’ve ever heard one.” you chuckle, completely unfazed that you’re talking to a serial killer. To you he’s still Foxy, the guy you met in a bar in Mexico, and got a little too attached to.

“To answer your question, I’m not going to turn you in. This won’t change much. Besides, I always did have a thing for bad boys”

#winslow foxworth coltrane #foxy coltrane x reader #winslow foxworth coltrane x reader #3 from hell #foxy x reader #foxy coltrane smut

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