#i think there's like ONE italian place open but i would have to walk the 20 minutes back to work to get there and im not sure i can face it

[unopenablebox]

haven’t properly eaten anything today, do i go to mcdonalds now at 5:30 or do i wait and try to figure out if there are any nice restaurants not closed on this godforsaken nonsense day

[artytaeh]

a honorary thought about how theodore nott would be with you, mrs. nott, his wife— during those blessed first vacations as a married couple; your honeymoon.

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. use of italian provided by google translator, if i have readers who speak italian fluently, please don't murder me! </3

honeymoon!theo who seems extremely relaxed, calm and unprepared for this first vacation with you as his wife, to italy— his home country. what you don't know is that theodore had been thinking and planning these weeks for months, maybe even years, during those mornings at hogwarts that he woke up before he needed to leave his bed and prepare for classes. unbeknownst to you, theodore is prepared to suggest names for your future children: that's how well theo has thought (and planned) for a future with you.

honeymoon!theo who doesn't give you much context or details over what you'll be doing during those weeks; you know that it'll be in italy, and got some advice over which clothes would be a good idea to bring in your luggage. if you expected one week of vacation— yeah, dolcezza, not happening. italy is a beautiful country; given the opportunity to show you around, theodore will make sure that his family's money is put to good use, and ensure at least three weeks of walking around.

honeymoon!theo who has most of the days planned; he made sure that three weeks was enough time to see part of italy's best spots, yet never giving you one day that makes you feel exhausted. at most, you'll see or visit three different places during the same day, yet not far enough that'll get your feet hurting from walking too much.

honeymoon!theo who had a hard time selecting where to take you during these three weeks— at the same time that he wants you to see how lively, colorful and amazing his homeland is, theodore doesn't want to have you exhausted in a matter of days. in the end, theo decided that he'd give you the best of two worlds: the beautiful cities, and the breathtaking countryside.

honeymoon!theo who makes sure that you'll have a taste of most of italy's native dishes. desserts, treats, appetizers, dinner and even drinks; theodore makes it a point to show you why he slandered hogwarts' food on a daily basis. however, if you're a picky eater or have a few food limitations, theo makes sure to only encourage you to eat what he knows that you'll like. never forces you to taste anything that you might not like, should it have any ingredient that you don't eat / don't like.

honeymoon!theo who will buy a slice of pizza, a cup of pasta or other treats as you stroll around the streets, making sure that you taste some of them and are never the slightest bit hungry.

honeymoon!theo who teached you a few sentences and phrases in italian, helping you with the pronounciation just right. simple things, really, like petnames, simple phrases (how to say thank you, how to say hello and good morning, even a few curse words should someone be a jerk to you and because you cursing on his native language turns him on).

honeymoon!theo who refers to you as mrs. nott. if you're at a restaurant— theodore will be a gentleman and make the order for the two of you, saying what he'd like to have, and what mrs. nott chose instead for today's meal. will teasingly refer to you as mrs. nott, if you ever engage playful banter or have a silly argument. if you're angry, well, being called mrs. nott dissolves any annoyance that you might have towards your husband.

honeymoon!theo who takes the chance of being in italy again, to buy his favorite brands of cigarettes; he promises to smoke a little less, though. one in the morning, as he waits for you to finish dressing up for the day— then one at night, leaving the windows open after you two were intimate, as you are comfortably laying on his chest. one hand holds the cigarette, while the other runs its fingers through your hair; here, theodore has each hand holding two of his biggest addictions. surely, if possible, theodore might sneak one cigarette during afternoon or after lunch; if you don't like the smell, theo will make sure to do it away from you. is there a shop you'd like to check? while you explore it, theo might smoke his second cigarette of the day.

honeymoon!theo who never gets his hands out of you. waist, lower back, holding hands or intertwined fingers; now that you're his, he has even less reasons to let go of you. italy is a crowded, famous country for vacations; between locals and tourists you walk together, as theodore guides you along, making sure that he never loses sight or hold of his wife.

honeymoon!theo that has a morning routine; lazying around in bed for a little longer, forearms feeling the softness of the pillow as he rests his head there— prompted up enough to see you. his gaze never wavers; theodore watches as you walk around the bedroom, each step being a soft pad on the floor, as you rummage through the wardrobe and seek for what you'll wear today; making your way then to the bathroom. if he's too sleepy, theo will take a light nap as he waits for you, lulled by the muffled sound of the water running for your shower; should he feel a bit more energetic, or more of a morning person, theo will follow you like a puppy, hugging your waist from behind as he kisses his way to shower with you.

honeymoon!theo who decides that his vocation is to help mrs. nott, his stunning, gorgeous wife getting ready for anything. oh, so you're preparing yourself to sleep? theodore will be more than happy to brush your hair, or to have you teaching him what products to apply, and how, to your hair— are you too lazy to take off your make-up? don't worry, theo does it for you; and even throws a dirty joke about removing your make-up in another, more elaborate and definitely much more pleasant, way. specially after a long day strolling around the streets, theodore will be more than happy to just let you relax, while he takes care of you.

honeymoon!theo who also loves to help you getting ready to leave, too. do you need this thing from the wardrobe or from your luggage? don't worry, he'll get it for you. are these the shoes you're wearing tonight? sit on the bed, bella, i'll tie them for you. do you need him to hold something or even help you with your hair? theodore nott is a very competent husband (or does his best to learn how to be very helpful for you). if you don't need help, well, theodore will sit on the edge of the bed, with those icy blue eyes gaining a new loving shade, as he looks at his bellissima getting ready to leave the room with him.

honeymoon!theo who took you to some window shopping with you, at venice and milan. two beautiful cities, where people proudly dress to impress; the shops didn't disappoint you at all. each dress or mannequin that you stared for more than two seconds got theodore to hold you by the hand, and gently dragging you to enter the shop; theo was more than happy to hold bags for you, one arm wrapped around your waist, while the other proudly holds his wife's bags from all the stuff you bought (correction: what theodore persuaded you to bring along, strictly using his family's money).

honeymoon!theo who perfected the art of convincing mrs. nott to agree with allowing him to spoil her; why shouldn't you be pampered by your own husband? in fact, theodore argues that doing so is a significant other's duty (and privilege). should you argue that everything's too expensive, well, theodore has two valid arguments for that: one, the nott family is ridiculously wealthy— one dress won't make his wallet lighter; and two, it's your money too, now. so why shouldn't you use it?

🗯️ : but teddy, darling— this is too much. i won't have enough space in my luggage to take all of these extra clothes with me.

t : don't worry about that, carina. if anything, we'll buy an extra luggage for you. fanculo, you know what? let's buy you a bigger one so you'll have to buy more things to fill it up. here, cara mia, look at this shop.

honeymoon!theo who takes a few nights to take you to dance around with him, strolling around some streets with good bars— a fancier version of those slytherin parties that you went together, except the lack of excessive green, besides lorenzo and mattheo's tendencies to start a brawl over flirting with an already taken girl. theodore dances with you, the two of you swaying with the rhythm, having the most fun, as you try to talk to each other sometimes or exchange a few comments here and there. if a younger guy has the audacity to look at you, theodore will glare at them in such an intimidating way, that the bloke doesn't even have to know about how theodore nott was a feared rival at hogwarts; should he be older, theodore will yell a clear threat in italian.

t : guarda ancora mia ragazza e ti garantisco che nessuno incontrerà i tuoi occhi dopo che li avrò cavati davanti a tutta la tua famiglia, stronzo del cazzo.

🗯️ : theo, what was that? what did you say? i didn't understand...

t : nothing, dolcezza; would you like a drink? here, let's go buy one together.

honeymoon!theo who translates anything and everything to you, specially if you ask him. if you're at a museum and would like to know what the description of some painting is, then theodore will explain or straight-out translate for you. don't worry, he's more than happy to do that— theo does it so patiently, that you would notice that he actually enjoys it. maybe he's returning the favor, for those few times that you've helped him pronounce a few words before class starts; maybe because theodore finds it heartwarming how you show such interest for his culture, and how endearing it is to see you trying to understand a few words here and there.

honeymoon!theo who separated these few days strolling around the city, walking around the streets and seeing a few attractions that he knew that you'd like (a few museums, for example); and got you to another city, one where he planned to have a more lighthearted routine. summer in italy is hot; to have you not enjoying the heat with one day or two to tan, to enjoy a pool or simply lazying around would be wrong; a waste, even. during those days, theodore made sure to let you rest on your chair, while massaging the sunscreen into your skin. those few days spent like that were fun; you didn't do much, but sometimes, doing nothing is the best.

honeymoon!theo who got to drink a few cocktails with you during those few days, sunglasses shielding your sights from the blazing sun, and swimsuits ready to have at least a swim together. conversation flows as easily between you as ever; taking a sip of your cocktail while the other talks, taking turns to share opinions or to continue the conversation. perhaps theodore took the chance to lightheartedly discuss what you'd do after these weeks— would you like to live with him to nott's estate, and leaving your shared cozy apartment for the time being?

honeymoon!theo who would only not shower with you if you two really had to get ready as fast as possible. otherwise, he's joining you; kissing your shoulders while you wash yourself, hugging your waist as he hums to whatever you're telling him. unless you'd rather wash your own hair or have a specific way of doing it, then theodore is more than happy to do it for you; as soon as he's done, he'll poke your nose with your shampoo's foam, signaling his concluded work. surely, theodore marvels at having you hugging him and washing his back at the same time— hey, where are you going? no, hug him for a little bit more; his back should be properly washed, you know?

honeymoon!theo who finds these weeks blissful. no quickies, no hurries; contrary to hogwarts, that even your own dorms weren't the most private places; or your daily life, where some of his friends are comfortable enough to visit without invitations— here at the hotel or alugada house you're at, there's privacy, time, and no restrictions for noise.

honeymoon!theo who takes his time with you. taking each piece of clothing with a calm movement, kissing every inch of skin in display; making sure that tomorrow morning, you'll have to complain or pout at him, due to those new bruises his lips will leave on your skin. neck and thighs are two favorites of his; however, there's something sinfully attractive and arousing about marking up your chest. a little dirty secret of his, one that only his eyes are allowed to see— besides yours, of course.

honeymoon!theo who gets a little insane in the head each. single. time that you have the audacity to speak italian to him, specially during these intimate moments. it doesn't matter if your pronounciation isn't perfect— even a single amore does things to him. whisper fanculo a me to his ear, and you might have to choose a more lighthearted agenda tomorrow, for the sake of your sore legs.

honeymoon!theo who becomes impossibly possessive. having been an overprotective boyfriend at times, making sure that each single student and their mothers knew that you're taken for life, these few weeks are feral. it becomes calmer as the days pass by, though; theodore takes some time to normalize the overwhelming reality that finally, finally you are his wife— mrs. nott.

so, honeymoon!theo who doesn't shut up. theodore needs to tell you how long he's waited for this, to have that ring on your finger; that same hand that he holds as he thrusts into you, or pleasures you in anyway— thumb tracing over the piece of jewelry exchanged on that day that you two got married. his fingers intertwine with yours, blue eyes bewitched by the sight of you under him, and even more intensely if you go on top. theodore nott is a shameless man; he'll only encourage you to moan louder for him, to tell him how good he makes you feel. theodore nott is so, so shameless, that he won't hold back any moan, any groan, anything he wants to say; this man will continue his rambling over how long he's dreamt about putting a ring on your finger, about being wed to you, about showing you his homeland— he'd say all of his in italian, though. if you're lucky, you'll catch up a few words; if not, well, theodore's voice sounds even better when he speaks his native language so fluently.

honeymoon!theo who doesn't have to hold back his baby fever anymore. will get you that final orgasm, with you sitting on his lap, his cock deep inside you, your back flushed against his warm chest; your hips feel those calloused, warm hands holding your hips down, making sure that the two of you can see the reflection of that mirror in front of the bed— one that theodore, shamelessly, requested to have it placed there. blue eyes lock their gaze there, where he disappears inside you, as you take him so well.

honeymoon!theo who doesn't shut up as he keeps you like this for a long moment, as praises leave his lips; 'you're stunning, cara mia, davvero bellissima— you'll look even prettier with our babies inside you.' as he speaks, theo presses kisses to your neck, one hand moving to rub circles on your clit; as if he wasn't already buried so deep inside you, pressing against that spot that has your legs shaking. theo doesn't let you stray much farther from his aching erection: 'brava ragazza, you'll take it all, won't you? we can't have a single drop leave your pretty little cunt.'

honeymoon!theo who secretly hopes that you'll come back to england with a baby in your womb; as much as he absolutely adores this life with you, on getting your full attention, falling into a domestic routine— theodore can't wait to see how your child would look like. theo can only pray that they inherite your lovely smile and beautiful hair, but keep his eyes. blue eyes, identical to the ones his mother, phoena nott, had. besides, if you do end up pregnant and keep the baby— next time that you go to italy, there would be a tiny human keeping you two company. theodore daydreams about that day.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪸 ’

౨ৎ calling out my name ♡ ͡

in the summer rain, ciao amore . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— spreading the 'theodore nott being a loving husband and slightly obsessed with the love of his life' agenda; this boy had the first draft of how your honeymoon would be after your fifth date with him.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[watchmegetobsessed]

SOFT LAUNCH

A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual. 

Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple. 

Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends. 

There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors. 

It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together. 

There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details. 

It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him. 

So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home. 

This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside. 

You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.

“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.

“Well, should I?”

“Told you, I love you both ways.”

“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him. 

“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”

He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same. 

“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly. 

“Just five more minutes!”

“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”

“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”

“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.

A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days. 

Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his. 

When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed. 

But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it. 

Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on. 

When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame. 

Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story. 

The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his. 

“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen. 

“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug. 

Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with. 

“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him. 

“Yes baby?”

“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”

He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.

“I have, yeah.”

“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”

Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact. 

His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”

“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.

“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”

At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid. 

“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips. 

“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”

“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss. 

Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds. 

“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.

“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it. 

Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you. 

When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you. 

“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.

“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”

“Will we also be doing that?”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[daisyblog]

Styles in Rome

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry, YN and Grace have their first family holiday in Italy.

Based on this request and a big thank you to @howling-wolf97 for helping me.

warning: body insecurities

Italy was like a second home to Harry and YN. The last few years they had spent  lot of time there, whether that was work related for Harry or to enjoy some time as a couple. It only felt right for their first family holiday to be to Rome. 

Travelling with a 7 week old baby had definitely tested their travelling skills of needing to pack more, travel heavier and plan their schedule to the inch of their lives. 

Harry had managed to organise their flights so they would land early evening, meaning they could try and stick to Grace’s routine as much as they could. 

Their first full day began with a 7am wake up call from Grace, who was letting out small cries from her travel cot next to their bed. YN stirred first, adjusting the Italian sun shining through the large glass window.

Gently picking up Grace from where she lay, she carefully cuddled her into her shoulder and picking up her blanket. “Shh…it’s okay…Mummy’s here…are you hungry my girl?”. 

YN walked through their apartment and opened the door to the balcony, that overlooked the sea. Sitting on one of the chairs, YN gently lifted her top and allowed Grace to latch on for her morning milk. Stroking the little one’s cheek, she couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was. “Your Daddy and me love it here…and I’m sure you will too”. 

ynstyles story

Replies:

harryfan4 ITALRRY PENDING!

harryfan9 choke her with a sea view!

annetwist Missing you all already❤️

harryfan2 Enjoy!!☺️

lottietomlinson Have fun!! Miss and love you loads🩷🩷🩷

Harry appeared at the balcony doors, two mugs in his hands before placing them on the table. “Morning my girls!”. He left a peck on YN’s lips, before placing his finger in Grace’s hand as she still fed. “Are you having cuddles with Mummy? Are you taking all my cuddles?”.

“I think Daddy’s jealous”. YN pretended to whisper to Grace, adding a smirk as she watched Harry sit in the chair next to her.

“You can’t blame a man for wanting some cuddles with his wife”. YN couldn’t hide her smile as she stared at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”.

Her smile only got bigger, as she glanced down at Grace and back at her husband. “I just love it when you call me your wife”.

“You’ve been my wife for the last twelve years…but it’s just official now”. Harry did mean what he said. They may have only been married for a couple of months, but nothing has changed between the couple. They’re still happy, still madly in love but now they get to share that happiness with their daughter.

“I love you more and more everyday”. YN lifted Grace up as she noticed she had finished her morning feed.

“It will never beat my love for you two”. Harry opened his arms as YN gently placed Grace into them. Seeing Harry with Grace always sparked a burst of joy in YN’d heart. She watched as Harry looked down at Grace in his arms with pure love and him being a dad was definitely YN’s favourite look on him.

“Your dad era makes you ten times hotter!”. YN couldn’t control what she was saying. The postpartum hormones and the lack of intimacy the last few months has definitely caught with her. “Long hair era has gone to second place!”.

“You must really fancy me at the moment then…you used to pounce on me every change you got when I had long locks!”. Harry teased as he cuddled Grace into his arms, placing a delicate kiss to her head.

“They were the days!”.

---

After they had eaten some breakfast, got showered and dressed for the day. They decided to spend a couple of hours at the beach.

As they arrived at the quiet beach, Grace had fallen asleep in the carrier so they laid her down under the large umbrella out of the sun. Harry quickly removed his T-shirt, which left him in his dark green shorts and tattoos on display. YN let her eyes stare, taking in the view and admiring her gorgeous husband. She couldn’t help but let the insecurities take over and question how someone so effortlessly beautiful could want her.

Harry covered himself in sunscreen, before his eyes noticed that YN was doing the same to herself after she had put some on Grace. But what he was surprised at was that she was still wearing her cover up.

“Not that I don’t like your cover up…but I was hoping that since Grace isn’t in need of those right now that I could admire them”. Harry tried to joke about wanting to see YN in a bikini.

YN’s lips twitched knowing Harry was teasing. “Oh…uh…I’m a bit chilly”. She cursed at herself knowing how ridiculous that sounded considering how warm it was.

Harry frowned as he realised that there was more to this than he originally thought. Sitting down on the large towels covering the sand, he slid his arm around her waist, his hand landing on her hip. “Hey…what’s wrong?”.

YN thought about lying again, making something else up, but she knew Harry had already caught onto her hiding something. Without looking at him, as she felt his hand rubbing her hip gently, she spoke the truth. “It’s just…since I’ve…I…I’m embarrassed of my body since having Grace…and that’s not Grace’s fault…I absolutely love that my body grew such a beautiful little baby…but I can’t help but think you’re going to look at my new body and just…I don’t know…not love me anymore!”.

Harry listened to every words his wife said, and the words stung. He blamed himself for how YN was feeling and annoyed that he hadn’t noticed. He thought carefully about his next words, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Gently turning her head to face him. “Babe…I could never not love you…if anything I love you more now than I ever have…you’re more to me than just your body, you’re my wife…you’re my best friend…my soulmate…the mother to my baby and future babies…nobody else is you and I want you…I’ll always want you…I’m in love with you”.

YN had carefully closed her eyes as Harry spoke, and he could only assume it was to stop herself from crying, so his words only continued as he pulled her closer so he was cuddling her.

“You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you…And you'll never treat yourself right darling, but I want you to…if I let you know, I'm here for you…Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh…And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth…’Cause it's you, oh, it's you…It's you, they add up to…And I'm in love with you…And all these little things…I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth…But if it's true, it's you…It's you, they add up to…I'm in love with you…And all your little things”. Harry sung softly as YN laid in his arms, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as he sang the meaningful lyrics to her. “But you’re perfect to me”.

---

layla_tpwk

liked by harryfan6, ynstyles and 682 others

layla_tpwk I MET HARRY AND YN STYLES!!❤️BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!! View all 103 comments tagged: harrystyles ynstyles

harryfan3 italrrry!!

sarah_70 So pleased for you darling! A dream come true💕 ⌞layla_tpwk thanks mum🫶🏼 ⌞ynstyles sarah_70 Your daughter is an absolute credit to you. She was so polite, kind and respectful today, especially towards our newborn Grace🩷Layla, a big thank you from Harry and I x ⌞harryfan7 YN!!! ⌞ynrryfan4 OMG YN LIKED AND COMMENTED!! ⌞sarah_70 ynstyles She’s beautiful inside and out. Thank you to you and your husband for giving up some time to chat with her, you’ve made her beam💜 ⌞layla_tpwk ynstyles it was so lovely to meet you both and baby grace 💕

ynrrydaily Story time please???? ⌞harryupdate desperate for this one because yn has liked and commented🙈 ⌞layla_tpwk ok..I’m still in shock but I’m on a family holiday in Italy. I was with my dad and we were walking around and then I spotted harry and yn walking towards us. At first I thought I was dreaming but then I could see yn carrying grace in a carrier. I didn’t want to disturb them but my dad knows I’m a huge fan so he spoke to them first and explained I had been a fan since 1D were on X factor. Honestly they were so kind and even recommended some places for us to go to. yn is literally the sweetest human ever and grace is soooo cute!! I am so happy tonight❤️ ⌞harryfan4 I am very jealous!! ⌞ynrryfan8 I want to meet Harry, YN and Grace😢 ⌞ynfan does grace look like harry or yn??? ⌞layla_tpwk she’s definitely a Tomlinson💕

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994

[little-diable]

The Faeries - Tommy Shelby (smut)

The faeries keep following me around ever since those two small Tommy drabbles I wrote. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy and the reader have been using codewords around their children to talk about enemies. But when his enemies manage to kidnap the reader, their children are quick to tell Tommy who has been behind this all.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, outdoor smut, mentions blood, angst because of kidnapping (?), but mainly fluff/smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.7k words)

Smoke engulfed Tommy as he walked up to his house, taking a last few drags of his cigarette. Ever since this morning, he had been engulfed in an uneasy feeling, clinging to him like a shadow sewn to his frame, not daring to let go of him. Tommy hadn’t been able to pinpoint it, like a whisper in a foreign language he couldn’t decipher, forcing him to leave his office desperately needing to be close to his family. 

He had been aching for (y/n)’s touch since stepping out of their bedroom in the early morning hours. She had always been the one he could turn to, the one that knew his darkest secrets, wanting to love every part of him or nothing at all, an ultimatum Tommy had given in to when first meeting her. 

“Love?” Tommy’s voice echoed through the house as he shrugged out of his coat, expecting (y/n) to meet him at the bottom of the stairs as she normally would. But all Tommy was met with was silence, an eerie silence that left him frozen for a moment. He called out (y/n)’s name, hoping that she had simply been distracted, but nothing could be heard, nothing besides the sounds of naked feet meeting the wooden flooring.

Tommy’s icy eyes snapped towards the stairs, his gaze found the wide eyes of his three children and their young maid. Within seconds, he had run up the stairs, open arms pressing his children to his chest.

“Where is my wife, Madeleine?” The words came out harsher than he had intended, forcing the young girl to flinch. (Y/n) would have scolded him for his tone, and would have given him a push to instantly apologise to Madeleine, but time was ticking, an apology could wait until he had (y/n) back in his arms.

“The faeries, daddy.” His eyes met those of their youngest daughter. Confusion swapped through Tommy at her words, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. 

“They spoke Italian, Mister Shelby.” And then everything clicked into place for him. Annoyance and anger began to mix deep inside of him, a deadly emotion for those daring to go against a man like Tommy Shelby. But as much as he longed for his wife, he didn’t fear for her, knowing that the men who had taken her would be faced with her wrath, making them quiver in fear as she gave in to the anger simmering inside of her. 

It wasn’t the first time his enemies tried to rip (y/n) from Tommy, men who had been greedy, arrogant and stuck up, thinking they could rip a mother from her children without any consequences. The first time Tommy had found her, fearing for his wife, she had been covered in blood, and yet not one single drop had been her own blood. She had been on a rampage, clawing out the eyes of those men, ripping them open with a single blade. It had been a cruel sight that had left him feeling awfully proud of (y/n). 

“I’ll get mommy back, I promise.” 

……

“Were you always this violent? Or is this what Tommy Shelby has made out of you? You should have married me, yeah.” Alfie Soloman’s voice rang in (y/n)’s ears as she cleaned herself with the cloth he had pushed in her direction. She felt awfully dirty, covered in blood and mud, from being dragged through dark streets. Angry screams had ripped through (y/n), knowing that being loud was her best shot at finding her way out of her situation.

“I’m sure you understand what it means to fight for your family, don’t you, Alfie?” Their eyes met, looking at one another for a while without speaking another word. Both were connected by a strange bond that had formed in their childhood years, binding them together like siblings who weren’t connected by blood but by something even thicker. 

“He should be here soon. What will you tell him?” Alfie squinted his eyes at (y/n), trying to read her expression, the emotions tugging on her features. He had found her in the warehouse, a bloody mess he had been forced to face as he guided her out of the place, the first to hear of the commotion that had taken place. 

“That it is time to move. I’m tired of these unwanted guests showing up every few months.” The chuckles rumbling through Alfie lured a few chuckles out of (y/n) herself, momentarily closing her eyes as tiredness swapped through her. But before either one could relish in old memories, trying to pass the time, the door to Alfie’s office was pushed open. 

“Tell me, Tommy, why is it always on me to rescue your wife?” Tommy didn’t spare Alfie a single glance as he came to a halt in front of (y/n). His cold hand found her chin, allowing his concerned eyes to take in her dirty features, looking for wounds. The relieved sigh ripping through Tommy as he didn’t find a single scratch on his wife rumbled through all their bodies. 

“I’m alright, Thomas.” (Y/n) squeezed his hand as she rose to her feet. She let go of her husband for a moment to walk towards Alfie, to press a kiss to his cheek, and to murmur a soft “I’ll see you on Sunday for tea.”

Both men watched her walk out of the office, ready to find her way back home, set on letting go of the memories of this very night.

“Thank you, Alfie. But the next time you look at her like that, it’ll be me who starts scratching out eyes.” 

……

“What are you doing, love?” Tommy’s soft voice broke through the quiet night. He had his icy eyes focused on her naked frame, watching her sink into the bathtub with a quiet whimper. Only a candle placed on the table standing next to the outdoor tub managed to alight their surroundings, giving Tommy a perfect view of her body. 

“I need to take a bath before bed, I feel dirty.” With a sigh leaving him, Tommy walked up to the tub to take her hand, slowly interlacing their fingers. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m alright. By now, they should know that taking me won’t do them any good.” 

“Charlotte told me you were taken by the faeries.” His words coaxed a laugh out of (y/n), who kept staring up at her husband with love swimming in her pupils. She tugged on his hand, wordlessly asking him to join her, to press her body close to his for a desperately needed distraction. 

“It fits, don’t you think? Those mischievous little shits are just like them. She’s a smart one, I’m glad she told you.” (Y/n)’s eyes followed his every movement, watching her husband undress with a soft smile playing on her lips. She made some room for Tommy, allowing him to sink into the water, with his front pressed against her back. 

“I am sorry, I should have been there.” Water splashed around them as (y/n) turned, straddling his thighs with one hand finding Tommy’s chest and the other his cheek. For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to take him in, his soft features, those lips she longed to kiss, everything she had always loved since meeting him. 

“Don’t be sorry, I enjoy the thrill every now and then.” His head rolled back as a raspy laugh left him, exposing his throat for her lips to find his skin. (Y/n) slowly kissed her way up his throat, finding his lips at the same time his hands settled on her waist, pulling him even closer against his hardening cock. 

“I need you, Thomas, fast, hard, no teasing tonight.” Their lips met in a needy kiss, letting their tongues meet, sharing unspoken words that lingered in the air. Tommy allowed (y/n) to move freely, knowing that she was ready for him, dripping for her husband. With their foreheads pressed together, (y/n) slowly sank down on his cock, letting go of a low groan. 

“For you and our children, I’ll fight every creature out there.” (Y/n)’s words had a heavy weight to them, guiding his hand to her throat, holding her in place for Tommy to properly look at her. Her walls clenched around his cock as she slowly moved, high on the feeling of being stretched by him. 

“And I’ll always start a war if the creatures don’t give me my queen back.” Even though both were focusing on different sensations, how Tommy helped her move, how his thumb slowly circled her pulsing bundle, both couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of their code words, how they began to speak about what was worrying them years ago. 

“I love you, Thomas Shelby.” (Y/n) moaned her words against his lips, and she began to tremble, knowing that her high was close. Without breaking the kiss, Tommy managed to shuffle them around in the tub, letting the back of her head rest against his hand as he fucked her, hovering over her. 

Neither of them cared about the water splashing onto the grass, neither of them cared about the mess they were making, fully focused on one another. They held eye contact as (y/n) gave in, letting his kiss swallow her moans as he fucked her through her intense orgasm. She was trembling beneath Tommy, having to hold onto the rims of the tub before she’d pass out and give into the call of the dimension he was close to pushing her into. 

Tommy came with a deep groan, letting his eyes flutter close to relish in the sensation. He held onto her, not daring to let go just yet as the cold breeze teased their naked bodies, still running high on their orgasms and the warming sensations. And for tonight, neither of them would speak of the past hours again, until morning came, and Tommy would seize this chance to start another war in favour of his wife.

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 5)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

A first date???

Warnings: Sexual innuendos and working through internalized homophobia

Author’s Note: No beta but this chapter took me wayyyy too long. This week was crazy with getting a new apartment states away and defending my thesis 😵‍💫

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Jacob nervously slipped into the kitchen as Melissa waited expectantly for a ziti you requested to finish baking. He attempted to keep space between himself and the Italian - for his own safety of course. The space between the two roommates had grown after he confronted Melissa a few nights ago about seeing her kiss you. Tonight he was looking to mend the bond between them. 

He leaned on the kitchen island, hands clasped and eyes studying the countertop, “I wanted to, uh... apologize for what happened a few nights ago. I shouldn’t have been so abrasive.”

The redhead only offered him a momentary glance which was harsh and skeptical. It was clear she wasn’t interested in having any conversation about the events Jacob witnessed. While Melissa continued giving Jacob the cold shoulder, he wanted to make it clear he was there to support her, “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.” “There isn’t anything to talk about.” Melissa quickly responded in a monotone with her back to Jacob so she could go about her business of pulling the ziti from the oven. She placed the baking dish on the top of the stove, and took a deep breath as she pulled the oven mitts from her hands and tossed them onto the counter. Spinning to face her roommate, she cocked her head and forced herself to make peace with the young man, “Thank you, Jacob.”

“I found a new puzzle for tonight... if you would like.” The young man gestured towards the dining room where he left the puzzle, earning a smile from the redhead.

With a flick of her hand, Melissa turned off the oven and folded her arms over her chest, “I would like.”

--

When Melissa picked up your phone call and wedged her phone between her ear and shoulder, she had no idea you were sitting outside her house. Before she could get a word in edgewise, you spoke - trying your best to sound smooth and collected so she couldn’t tell you were fearful of her rejection, “Let’s go, Schemmenti.”

“What?” She leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes to hide her enthusiasm from Jacob who sat across the table with his head cocked, staring at her in curiosity. They were about half way through their 3D puzzle of the statue of liberty when you interrupted. 

After opening your car door, you step out and lean against the car door frame, smirking as you catch a glimpse of her red hair through the front window. You doubled down on your mission of taking Melissa out, giving her an order rather than asking, “Come on out here. I’m taking you on a date.” 

“What makes you think I’d go on a date with the likes of you?” Melissa tittered as she tried to hide how she enjoyed flirting with you from her companion. 

You reply sarcastically, feeling a sense of excitement wash over you when you make her laugh, “My good looks and sense of humor. Or perhaps my love of long walks on the beach.”

Melissa finally lifted herself from her seat so she could make her way to the front window where she pulled aside the sheer blinds to catch a glimpse of you. Your cheeky smile melted Melissa’s icy exterior as did the way you leaned your cheek on your forearm as you gazed at her. She had one hand on her hip as she stared you down, “Where are ya’ takin’ me?” 

“I’m still trying to decide between the Olive Garden or some chain sports bar where we can watch the Cowboys play.” You joke, grinning wildly as you watch her lip curl.

She turned her back to you, looking around the room for her purse and shoes, “Are you tryin’ to get me to say no?”

“Just testing to see how much you like me.” You quip as you watch her curiously. More than anything you hope your joking wouldn’t turn her off from the date you had planned. 

“What’s the dress code?” The redhead asked, glancing down at her comfortable outfit of old jeans and an Eagles shirt. She had been ready to slip on her shoes so she could meet you, but she began to second guess herself. 

“Something easy to take off.” Your quick wit made the redhead stifle a laugh as she clumsily began gathering all of her belongings. Her pacing made her seem a little too eager to Jacob, causing him to arch his brow in amusement. You could see her grabbing her leather jacket and purse which caused you to remember the ziti you asked her to make just for this occasion, “Oh, and did you make that ziti?”

“Well, yeah.” She scoffed, almost offended you would question her willingness to cook for you. 

“Bring that too.” 

— Melissa folded her arms over her chest and watched out the window as she skeptically wondered where you could be taking her so late in the evening. When you turned into the stadium parking lot of the Lincoln Financial Field, she glanced over at you with a look of pure disbelief. She didn’t believe you could get her into the Eagles home stadium for a single moment, “And how do you think you are gettin’ in here?”

“I know a guy.” You shrug as your eyes sweep the parking lot for the entry point your cousin told you to find. 

Melissa was all heart eyes in the passenger seat, watching you with complete amazement. Her chest swelled with pride when you ended up handing over her ziti to your cousin whilst telling them she is the best cook in her family. And the cherry on top was how you gave a subtle threat to your cousin to make sure they would return Melissa’s baking dish to you. In a period of five minutes, you tapped into three of her love languages: having connections, bribery through food, and not-so-subtle threats. 

—

Melissa was like a kid in a candy store as you gave her free reign of exploring the sports complex. As a night security guard, your cousin had agreed to give you access to everything as long as you set him up on a date with some girl you knew from high school and Melissa’s cooking was just the icing on the cake. 

The redhead was in her happy place when she settled on the Eagles sideline bench and grinned up at you, “You didn’t have to go to such great lengths to get me to sleep with ya’.” 

“Who said I was trying to sleep with you?” You cock your head as you stare down at Melissa, your heart jumping into your throat as you consider sharing your true intentions for her. While every fiber of your being was screaming for you to stay quiet, you remembered you were conducting your relationship with Melissa on your own terms rather than giving her all of the power. 

You popped yourself down on the bench next to Melissa, stretching your legs out in front of you as you stated your intentions with confidence, “I’m gonna get you to fall head over heels for me.”

“Oh, is that so?” Mel perked up in faux excitement as she loved to challenge anyone when they were filled with a noticeably high level of confidence. Her heart stalled in her chest at the notion of you trying to get her to fall for you - in a way it felt like too much too soon and a long time coming all at once.

You nod, staring out across the field with your chin held high, “Indeed it is.”

Melissa allowed a few moments to pass between you before she spoke again. While the prospect of a new relationship was frightening for her, she was determined to give a romance with you a fighting chance. She leaned into you when she spoke, giving your arm a loving pinch, “This is a good start, but if your guy can get us into the locker rooms, things will go a lot quicker.” 

—

You shifted the car into park outside Melissa’s house and a silence fell between you. The date had gone well, but now there seemed to be a new energy between you that had yet to be felt by either of you before. It was almost as if there was a palpable mutual yearning that expanded far beyond sexual desire. 

This feeling terrified Melissa.

“Everything is going to change.” When she spoke, you felt the need to do a double take to see if Melissa had been replaced with a 16 year old version of herself. Her tone was the same as when she told her father she wanted to be a teacher rather than the next Effa Manley - fearful of disappointing loved ones.

You shifted in your seat to more readily face the redhead. Cocking your head, you tried to give her an encouraging response, “Why does everything have to change?” 

“Didn’t everything change for you?” She asked as she chewed her lip, one hand lifting to her miraculous medal to rub the image of the Virgin Mary with the pad of her thumb. 

While it wasn’t easy coming out when you were teenagers, you remembered the support you received from your family and Melissa. At the time it was all you felt you needed, but of course, after telling Melissa about your attraction to the fairer sex, you did gain a sexual partner - the thought of which made you grin, “Mostly life was better. It helped having good friends.”

Melissa hummed to acknowledge your response before falling deep into thought. She wouldn’t even know where to start. Jacob would be easy, but Barbra? She felt sick at the thought of even discussing the matter with her. 

You broke up her swirls of anxiety with your own question, “Why did you say yes to this date?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Melissa retorted as she was briefly filled with relief of a lightened mood before realizing you were completely serious. Her face fell once more as you left her in a heavy silence to respond to your question. Her reasoning stemmed from your spat that occurred months ago, “When you told me you remembered that night before the wedding… I forgot how you asked me to give you a chance and I never did.”

“I said a lot more than that.”

“So did I.”

When you opened your door to a red eyed Melissa, you were literally taken aback by the redhead pushing her way into your arms. It was the night before she was set to marry Joe - some loser firefighter she had met while tailgating at a Eagles game. You hated him since Mel told you he wanted to take her to a strip club on the first date. 

While you would never tell her ‘I told you so’, you knew he wasn’t the right person for her. You kept your mouth shut, hugging her to your chest and guiding her further into your little apartment so you could close the door. 

She told you through teary eyes and angry hiccups that the rehearsal dinner had gone terribly and that Joe was a complete pig. You didn’t offer an opinion, opting to let the redhead rage as you settled on the couch together. She would wave her hands over her head and curse in Italian while you nodded along, only deciding to pull her to your chest once more when hot, angry tears began rolling down her cheeks. 

Rubbing Melissa’s back was an easy way to settle her anger, but her tears continued to fall regardless of how many times she wiped them away with her sleeves. You held her face to your chest and spoke softly, hoping she wouldn’t turn her anger onto you, “Maybe you shouldn’t be marrying him if all of this is happening and you aren’t even married yet.”

“My parents have already paid for the wedding. I can’t back out now.” Melissa nuzzled her cheek against your chest. She was in absolute despair yet she wasn’t willing to actively do anything to solve her issue. 

“But if you do, then… maybe we could be together.” It was unavoidable for you to sound like you were begging. You wanted this so badly. You wanted her so badly. In the brief moment where she didn’t respond, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying a little harder, “Come on. Give us a chance, pretty girl.”

Melissa only peered up at you, and her furrowed brows and sad eyes broke your heart. “I want to… I just-”

You held a hand to her cheek, brushing her hair from her face. You were desperate for Melissa to come to her senses. Couldn’t she see that you were meant to be together? Your voice was barely above a whisper as you moved to press your lips to her forehead, “I love you, Melissa. Please.”

The redhead eyes lit up at your words - like you had ignited something within her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Melissa shifted to sneak closer so she could press her lips to yours. She kissed you over and over - each kiss was filled with so much desperation it left both of you breathless. 

She pulled away only for a moment, her forehead resting against yours, “I love you.”

From there you fed off one another’s passion and energy like frenzied sharks. You ended up making love on your living room floor, clinging to one another as if you would be separated forever if any distance formed between you. Only if you would have known that distance was fated to form regardless.

Melissa’s face was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she was reliving that night with regret or fondness - perhaps it was a combination of both. You watched thoughts run through her mind and her green hues were pleading when she spoke, “Have your feelings changed?”

“Never.”

Melissa both feared and adored your response.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes longer, spiraling at the omissions of love and not wanting your time together to end so soon. It was finally Melissa who made the move to leave, followed by your immediate reaction to open your door as well. You felt the thrum of excitement as you circled the car and walked the redhead to her door. 

She stopped when she had a hand on the door handle and glanced back at you, noticing you were at the bottom step with no intention to go any further. Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Aren’t you coming inside?”

“No. I’m just walking you to your door.” You shrug, craning your neck back to watch her with a cocky smile. 

“Chivalrous.” Melissa’s dry humor emerged as she abandoned the door handle to stand a step above you - her hands sliding up to your shoulders while she stared down at you. After years of being entwined with one another, you wouldn’t have thought her next words would make you so nervous, “Do I get a kiss at least?”

Wrapping your arm around her waist, you pull her into you, relishing in the feeling of her body weight pressing against you. The feeling of her green eyes staring intently down at you was overwhelming, especially as her focus on you was unwavering. Glancing back and forth, you whispered with a shyness that made you want to swallow your words, “Aren’t you worried about the neighbors getting the wrong idea?”

“Hadn’t crossed my mind.” She whispered in return - a white lie meant to soothe any concerns you may have about her intentions. Melissa had no interest in her neighbors knowing more than they needed to about her personal life, but she chose to wrap her arms around your neck and press her lips to yours regardless. 

You could have sworn you felt Melissa Schemmenti moan as she leaned into you more to deepen your kiss. This wasn’t any moan, however. This high pitch, quiet moan was a ‘please dear god keep kissing me’ moan. It made your heart race and your stomach twist into knots - so much so that you pulled away.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” You lingered close as you whispered your farewell, ghosting her lips with your own before you gingerly took a step back.

Melissa swayed where she stood, her flushed cheeks hidden by the dim lighting of the streetlights. She folded her arms over her chest, shrugging as she hopelessly attempted to find a way to bid you goodbye that wouldn’t rob her of her ‘tough guy’ style. The redhead suppressed a smile and watched you through heavy lidded eyes - she was smitten and hated every bit of it. “Yeah yeah yeah. Get off my lawn before I have to turn a hose on ya’.”

—

Melissa settled onto the couch next to Jacob and was stewing with mixed emotions she didn’t know how to process. For years she hadn’t given you the chance of letting you in emotionally, and the very second she let her walls down, she was tripping over herself to get your attention. She found you to be a perfect balance of everything she wanted in a potential partner, successfully making her feel remorse for how much of your time she had wasted by not pursuing this sooner. Mel was fearful of how you would move forward together, but god she wanted it terribly. 

Jacob interrupted her thoughts with his own - knowing full well he was treading on grounds that could quickly earn him a place on Melissa’s ‘Perpetually Ignore’ list. He was shockingly plain and confident with his words, “I know you are going through something right now, but don’t... hurt your friend in the process.”

Melissa sat in his words, truly taking them to heart. She wanted to do better by you and she knew where she needed to start, but she was fearful of taking that leap. The redhead stared down into her lap as she began picking at her nails, “We aren’t really friends...”

Tears formed in Melissa’s eyes, but she wasn’t about to let Jacob see how scared she was to admit those words aloud. She hadn’t even truly come out to Jacob and she was feeling entirely overwhelmed at the prospect. Jacob wasn’t phased, rather he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. He rubbed her arm gently as he spoke, “I know, Melissa... I know.”

Link to Chapter 6

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore

[itsmrshamilton]

Last Goodbye | LH44

summary: reader is involved in a car accident during qualifying. can Lewis make it to her on time to say one last goodbye

a/n: lol, the summary is way more dramatic than it needs to be. I'm trying a different pov. Let me know what you think. Requests are open.

The sun was positioned high in the sky, the wind softly tickled the trees and there wasn't a single cloud in view for miles. The perfect Saturday afternoon to hold the Qualification Races for the British Grand Prix which would take place on Sunday. Lewis had left earlier that day just like the other racers in order to get to the track on time and begin preparing with their teams. Due to her work, Y/n was unable to attend most races on the calendar but she wouldn't miss the Silverstone race for anything in the world. It was their home race, the one time she got to spend the whole weekend with Lewis and their family while he worked. As scary as it was for her, she loved watching her favourite person do what he did best and inspire millions while he did it.

As was their tradition for home race weekends, Lewis had left Y/n her favourite breakfast in the kitchen, a handwritten note on a counter and a soft kiss on her forehead while she slept then quietly snuck out with Roscoe under his arm. She would have offered to bring their son with her later in the day but she knew that Roscoe had eager fans in the engineers' garage that were waiting to spend the day with him. So she got up and went about her morning on her own, tidying up and making snacks for later when Lewis came home knackered and starving.

She picked up her bag, patted herself down for keys then checked her phone for any last minute requests from her boyfriend. Seeing nothing new since the previous texts she sent, she figured he may have already started racing so she took a quick selfie and sent it with a caption. "I think I stand a chance of overshadowing your paddock outfit today, lol. I'm leaving the house, see you soon. Knock 'em dead, love" She giggled at her awful sense of humour before leaving the house and locking up.

The drive to the track was usually short but on such an eventful day, there were many cars on the road and one could feel the buzz of excitement and anticipation in the air. Y/n wasn't an anxious driver but seeing people pull risky moves between the lanes made her drive with a foot hovering above her brakes just in case.

🖤🖤🖤

"Okay, Lewis, P2 for Q1 was a great start. Let's keep that up and improve if we can. Q2 starts in 10 minutes, yeah?" Fred clapped Lewis' shoulder and walked off to another part of the garage.

"Yeah, thanks, man." Lewis replied as he stood in the red garage looking at the screen replaying his latest performance on the track. Roscoe pawed at his foot and whined, clearly requesting to be picked up. The bulldog seemed to forget that at his old age he was getting heavier but his father lovingly adhered and brought Roscoe to his chest with a grunt and a kiss to the forehead. "Where's your mum, eh? She's usually the one cuddling you during qualy, huh?"

He looked around the garage to see if his girlfriend had entered while he was distracted. He knew that the drive there wasn't very short but she always arrived before Q2 began so he was slightly confused. "Hey Marc, have you heard from Y/n or my dad?" he asked an engineer as he glanced at his phone. "No, nothing. There is traffic at the entrance though so that may be causing their delayed arrival." the Italian responded. Lewis nodded seeming satisfied as he read Y/n's text confirming that she was on her way. He grinned like a love struck fool at the picture she sent of herself decked out from head to toe in Ferrari merchandise. She was truly the most beautiful being he had ever seen and he wondered for umpteenth time how he had lived before he met her. He sent heart emojis in response and went back to watching the recording on the screens.

🖤🖤🖤

Y/n sighed in relief as she reached the last intersection before the paddock entrance. She could see gates from here and couldn't wait to get out of her car and see her son and boyfriend. The red light she had stopped at turned green and she let her foot off the break to move forward. As she was about to cross the middle of the intersection, she noticed the cars behind her screech to a sudden holt but before she could access the confusing situation her car was hit from the side and she was sent jolting forward. The last thing in her vision was the airbag exploding into her face. She was unconscious by the time the horrified bystanders saw her car get thrust into the nearest pole by the driver who ran the red.

🖤🖤🖤

Lewis was seated in the red and yellow car and about to put on his helmet when he saw marshals, guests and staff hurrying in the direction of the paddock entrance. Focused on the next part of the race, he tried to stay grounded and drown out the sounds of shouting. "Lucas, radio check." he said to his engineer. "It's Lewis, radio check." Silence on the other end. He could now hear the sound of sirens in the air. "Lucas? Can-"

"Loud and clear, Lewis. Apologies for the delay, we were receiving a call from the stewards that there has been a car accident outside the entrance so there will be distractions during the second session."

Lewis grimaced and secured the position of his helmet on his head. Car accidents were awful to witness so he really felt sorry for those who were involved. He took hold of the steering wheel.

"That's awful. Do we know who it is? Has help arrived?" He asked sincerely.

"Uh, not really. They say it's a blue and red Audi and a black-"

"A what?" Lewis felt his blood run cold and his suit get tight. He didn't think he heard right. He couldn't have heard that right.

"A blue and red Audi. Anyways, let's focus on the ra-" Lewis didn't let Lucas finish because he shot up and scrambled to get out of the car he was strapped into. He fell out, landed on all fours but got up to rip off his helmet. His knees stung and there were shouts all around him but he had no time to listen. His skin was hot, his throat was tight and DAMN IT, WHY WOULDN'T HIS GLOVES COME OFF! Frustrated, he took off in a sprint towards the paddock entrance, shoving everybody out of his way. In the back of his foggy mind, he thought he heard barking right behind him but was too distracted to check.

When he finally made it off the racetrack property, he was buzzing with adrenaline, covered in sweat and coughing from screaming at the crowd to let him through. At the end of the driveway he could see two green ambulances and multiple police cars parked in a taped off area. "Oh, God. Oh God, no."

He only knew one person with a red and blue Audi. A red and blue Audi that he had gifted them. One person who hadn't yet arrived to the Ferrari garage.

He stumbled forward to take in the scene illuminated by flashing lights. But before he could mumble out another plea to God, he stopped dead in his tracks. A black body bag. Beside what was left of the blue and red Audi that belonged to his girlfriend.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Thanks for reading! Be sure to interact with this post before you leave. Requests are open.

Do not repost on another platform, alter or translate my writing. I don't consent. If you do, I will send evil shongololos to bite your toes off at night.

[bluetimeombre]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Wanting you, under the Italian sun

You and Timmy have most been working hard. For the summer, they decide an Italian getaway.

[a little something that's been sitting in my drafts while i work on some other things, i hope you enjoy. I'm thinking of taking some requests, cause i'm lacking inspiration so if that's something you'd like, let me know and maybe, you'll get lucky]

The car dropped you off at your private villa for the weekend, the wheels rolling onto the stone.

You step out first while your beautiful boyfriend, timothee paid and took the bags from you. You both stare at the old but wonder ours villa which would be your home for the summer.

Timmy threw an arm around you shoulder, drawing you in and kissing your temple. It was an endearing move you revelled in. ‘Are you happy, amore mio?’ (My love)

You smile up at him. ‘Very.’

His lips Slide Over yours before leading you over to the door. You guys had already picked up the keys to the place by the owner. All summer, this would be your own private haven.

The two of you were hidden, surrounded by tall trees to shield you and it was at least a mile walk from the nearest town. You had a stocked kitchen, a pool for your own enjoyment and each other.

You and Timmy had only been dating six months, but it felt like the most blissful forever. Already you knew there was nothing more you could want, you had everything. But still, you both had been working hard over the last few months and knew to keep you both sane, you needed to escape.

You had been working hard on a movie you’re especially proud of with Emerald Fennell (the director of Saltburn). It was premiering at the end of the year and was a high talk of Oscar buzz, but it was taxing. And Timothee had been busy promoting dune two and preparing for Bob Dylan. The only time you’ve shared is surprising each other in different countries, stealing moments of hurried movements of bodies in hotel rooms and several hundred facetimes.

You'd both agreed to get away, knowing it could snowball into stress and terrible times. He was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, a household name and everyone loved him. Meanwhile everyone was looking to you, a trend-setter, so what your next big move would be.

Italy, it would just be you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

You spent your first week sleeping in, bathing in the sunlight that came through the windows, left open for a cool breeze and curtains blowing gently. His hands would run over your bare skin, tracing marks his lips had made the night before. Then he'd roll on top of you and continue the evening.

His lips trail down your neck, biting and licking over a spot. 'Can't get enough of you.'

Then your mornings continue slowly. Sometimes you'd go for a walk around the countryside, or walk into the town and buy some flowers for the villa and Timothee would insist on buying you pretty things.

'A pretty girl deserves pretty things,' he always said.

So, when you brought a bouquet, you always spared a flower for him.

Most mornings, you'd be found in the pool while Timothee made breakfast, bringing it out for the two of you. You'd sit at the set table, next to each other, your legs stretched into his lap as he traced patterns on your skin. Or his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

You guys talked, talked about anything. Your careers, your hopes and dreams for the future, together-obviously. You talked about books and poems and movies and family. It was so easy with him. And at the same time, everything was exciting.

Your bodies knew each other, and in the summer, with so much skin, you had many chances to explore each other, but you also explored each others minds, picking out anything you each wanted to know.

Timothee, on rare occasions, even on holiday, slept in. You spent your time admiring him, his lips parted with soft breaths and his curls fresh and soft. He was naked under the sheets but the white covers were pulled over his chest. He still had an arm draped over your stomach, but it was weak in sleep.

You slipped away easily, taking your books and making yourself coffee and heading to the poolside to relax in the morning glow.

Only half an hour slipped by before you boyfriend wandered out, in his trunks, still stretching out the sleep that held his body.

'Good morning, baby,' you greeted with a smile.

Timothee smiled down at you before urging you to shuffle to the end of your chair. He slipped behind you, legs on either side and arms wrapping around your waist. He kissed one the tattooed marks he left on you last night. That's what he loved about the villa, the two of you wearing barley anything. 'Morning, mon amour. How did you sleep?'

You lean your head back on his shoulder. 'Like a babe.'

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you. It was never quick with him, never swift. His lips were hard against yours, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip to taste the coffee on your tongue.

You pulled back before you could lose your place in your book. But, you pulled your coffee cup from the ground and offered him some.

He took a sip and leant his head on you shoulder, reading over while his hands messaged your stomach and hips. 'Even on holiday you're working.'

'This isn't work, i'm reading.'

'About the architecture of Italy?'

'It's a beautiful place.'

He hummed. 'It suits you, beautiful place for a beautiful girl.' He wears a smirk as his fingers slide over your swimsuit and slowly slip under under it grazes your bare hipbone.

'Timothee,' you warn with the most conviction you could.

'What?' he asked innocently.

You peck him on the lips, pulling away and leaving him to chase them. 'You have a problem.'

'Yes, I do.' Slowly, he slides the book of the chair, leaving it to thud on the ground and he slowly settles you down, as he slides along your back, slowly taking the straps down with his teeth. 'Will you help me?'

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

As the sun sets on your simple day, the two of you sit at dinner outside as always. You listen to Timothee strum the guitar he brought along, mumble along to some songs he'd learnt for Bob Dylan.

Then, he passed it to you, letting you strum what songs you knew from other movies you'd done.

Once you set the guitar down, it fell quiet.

'You know I want to marry you, right?' said Timmy out of nowhere. 'Not here. Not now. When it's right, for you.'

You look at him. You spoke about futures, but never had he said so blatantly that he will marry you. 'What about you?' you ask.

'I'll be ready when you are,' he says, gently brushing your hair behind your shoulder. 'And this could be our lives. Here. Every summer this could be our villa. You and me. Then one day, our kids. Then, when we've made enough movies we'll do what the old movie stars do. Retire, direct or produce a movie or something. We'd be like those cooky neighbours who throw the craziest parties.'

'Cheeseboards,' you suggest. 'Watching sunsets and sunrises, walking to town to buy ingredients for supper. Then complaining about the kids running around our feet while trying to cook.' you say, playing pretend for your future lives.

Timothee nodded, leaning closer to you, like he could see the future in your eyes. 'We'll hide away here, in the trees, and swim together, naked- when we're alone of course-' you laugh at his. 'and we can spend all day together, I'd get to touch you whenever I please,' his hands slowly caressed up your legs, careful and light.

You blush, smiling and resting your chin in the palm of your hands. 'All day every day touching you.'

'Could you think of anything better?' he smirked, lips brushing yours.

'Well, right now, a few things.' you kissed him and kissed him, thankful forever for the Italian sun.

[sunkissedscribbles]

Only Thing That Keeps Us Apart...

pairing: theodore nott x borderline!fem!reader

genre: angst

tw: mental illness, SA, suicide

word count: 1735

summary: theo has to leave you on his father's will

a/n: @inksoakedparchment i hope this is what you wanted<3

playlist: IF NOT FOR YOU – Måneskin / TIMEZONE - Måneskin / THE LONELIEST – Måneskin

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

You miss him. How could you not? He was your best friend, your saviour, your boyfriend. The man you were supposed to end up with; marry and have children with. How did you two end up like this? – You’re wearing the old clothes he left at your place before he simply disappeared and erased himself from your life. He left – without any explanation, a note, or any clue about where he was going.

As if he were dead.

As if your love didn’t mean anything.

Your flat is cold and empty without the sound of his stupid whistling while doing the simplest of things like chores, him arguing with the old cooker in Italian when it won’t work properly, without his bright personality he’d only let you see, or the bickering over meaningless things like what film to watch – what film to get bored of in the middle and have a better idea on what to do instead, rather.

Now that he left your life like that everything seems so dull and boring, so dark, so pallid and achromatic. Life seems to have slowed down and the once clear sky you have seen daily during Theo is grey and so overly clouded that the sun won’t shine through the thick layer.

Sometimes you feel like he was just a game of your imagination, like it has completely fooled you. But how could he have been fake? It was so real, too real, even. If you really try you can still recall even the littlest of touches, like him brushing his nose against yours in the morning to stir you awake or the way he held you against his body to reassure you you’ll be together, forever.

What a bullshitter.

There'll be no summer There'll be no spring If not for this love of mine Thornes without flowers Bars with no drinks If not for this love of mine

All the lights All the parties would just fade out Shut them down

He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice. He had thought after Voldemort’s defeat things would be different; lighter, easier, and that he’d have a sharper vision of your future together.

Was he naive?

Why on earth had he even thought his father would get sent to Azkaban if he survived the war? Why did he think he’d get a chance to start over, with you?

He had plans, just like you.

Italy – it was his plan. He wanted to take you there, take you home with him, all the while he would have told you about his mother who he lost as a kid. He would’ve shown you all the best places and the best food, and he knew exactly where he wanted to propose to you. Hell, had he bought the ring before he got the call… The plane tickets were purchased, and his place in Italy was all set for the two of your arrival.

And all his plans now are going down the drain because of the family business.

He memorised your landline number – he remembers every time he walks past a phone booth, but he knows he has to stay sensible and responsible. He wants to tell you he’s losing his mind without you, he wants to run away from his father and the literal mafia he’s the leader of but that would only put you in danger. And that’s the last thing he wants.

But what if…

Now I know you're sleepin' Where I'm supposed to be in Wish I could've stayed Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone

You’re trying to move on – but how could you if these memories of you during Theo just won’t leave your mind?

That one time he was walking down the hallway at your place when he suddenly stopped by the bathroom. It was a thing you two used to do – leaving the door open so that you could still talk whenever either of you was in the bathroom.

“Is that blood?” he stared at you half-sitting, half-lying in the bathtub with one leg on the edge of it, a razor in your hand. His face went completely white as he thought you were hurting yourself on purpose, until he noticed the razor.

“...No?” you raised an eyebrow until you saw the red liquid along your shin. “Oh, shit, it is,” you laughed it off with a shrug. You shouldn’t have – he quickly sat down on the edge of the tub and held you an infinitely long lecture about how not to cut yourself with a razor while tending to the little wound. Little did he care that you had another leg to be done that evening.

Or the memory of your first kiss? All he said was ‘woah’ but you understood him perfectly. No wonder he went in for another to devour you.

But there was the time he tried to braid your hair. He had no idea what he was doing, and your explanation of it with your hands and sentences like ‘this over that and the other that over this’ didn’t help the slightest.

But it hadn’t always been happy all the time, either – there was a reason for him to be scared you were self-harming that night in the bathtub as you had a tendency for depressive episodes.

Before Theo, you had no idea what to do with your life – you had been down so bad you didn’t see the light anymore and your episodes were starting to get to your head – you couldn’t handle them properly and you felt like you could never get your life back from the hand of an external force. So when he found you in the Astronomy Tower with fresh cuts he wouldn’t have left you alone. You had many arguments because of this, because of your BPD.

His presence irritated you at first – he was like a lost puppy, running after you–

"Let's put that down, principessa," he stared into your eyes as he reached for the blade in your fist. There was something about his eyes, about those blue irises that were so effective of getting anything he wanted out of you, and that gaze that seemed to be staring right into your soul.

–but you got used to it after a few weeks and warmed up enough to open up to him. It hasn't been difficult to talk about your mental illness anymore, not like this, that he knew what the worst he could expect from you was. Because he showed you that he really did care about your well-being. And because he loved you, even at your worst.

Yes, he did fall in love with your worst and as time went on and your relationship progressed your mental health only improved during Theo.

You're still the oxygen I breathe I see your face when I close my eyes It's torturous Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

He fell for you. It took him some time to give in to his heart, and for you to accept that you're loveable but you did it. You both did.

He's counting the hours, the time difference – he has been since he had to go, and he can't stop thinking about you. He was a player before you, a man as well as a kid during you – but who is he now? He can't find the answers to his current existential crisis. You probably think he's dead. And you think that perfectly. His life has lost its meaning without you, no colour, no more Nirvana, no Billy Jean, no dancin' if you're not part of his life anymore.

'How could I wake up How could I sleep How could I be someone?'

So, what if...

Tomorrow, I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it Mm, instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Your flat is cold and empty – it's his first remark. He walks farther in, calling out for you, "Y/N? Tesoro, I'm home!" and he's waiting for the moment you run out of the bedroom or from the kitchen to greet him with a fist to his nose for leaving you and kiss him senseless right after.

He walks into the bedroom – no sign of you.

Then into the kitchen.

Where the hell are you?

He spots you in the bathtub, fully dressed. "Y/N! I've been calling for you for minutes, honey. What are you–?" he takes in your pale complexion as he walks closer to you.

Closer to your cold and lifeless body.

The realization hits him like a dozen rocks

"No, no, no," he crouches down next to you, seeing the clear and sharp cuts. "Fuck! Please wake up, please wake up! Y/N, this is not funny. Stop this... Please, baby..." he lets out a ragged breath, trying to collect himself. He lifts your hand to check your pulse.

And just waits,

and waits.

He can't let you go. "Had I not told you to be careful with the razor?" he cries out. You couldn't have died, right? You must be hearing him, must be playing a very sick game with him. No, no, you're alive. You're alive... right? He starts tending to your wounds but deep down he knows there's no point in doing so. You're not gonna wake up. He can't look at your face, he's not strong enough as he knows there won't be a smile on it. The smile he loves so much.

The smile he loved so much.

You were lost and afraid before Theo. You were happy and stable during him. But there's no after Theo. There never will be. Not for you. And you’ve known it all along.

You'll be the saddest part of me A part of me that will never be mine It's obvious Tonight is gonna be the loneliest You're still the oxygen I breathe I see your face when I close my eyes It's torturous Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @yelanare

[totalswag]

the last anon gave me an idea, so I'm requesting you

How Drew asks actress y/n to go out on a date, without the friends, only with him this time? How the first date goes? How he/she confesses his/her feelings for each other, without kiss? I mean, we don't kiss at the first date, it's like "see you soon" right?

Also love ur writing! <3

first date gone well — DREW STARKEY

authors note ooo i really like your thinking! definitely see drew being the type to kiss maybe on the second or third date for sure. super sorry that your request is coming out late. so close to 900 followers!!

summary actress!reader and drew go on their first date.

warnings drinking, flirting, shyness, soft!drew

Drew and you exchanged numbers after the party. You haven't stopped texting each other since.

Drew asked you out on a date after a week of texting. He maintained an interest in getting to know you more, and you reciprocated. It's been a while since you've felt this way about a guy.

You were instructed to dress casually for dinner, since he is taking you to an Italian restaurant. There's a surprise at the end that he thinks you'll enjoy.

Drew knocks on the front door; you grab your belongings as you walk to unlock it. When you see each other, you both smile.

"Hey, how are you?" Drew asks, drawing you in for a tight hug; "You look really beautiful too," he says, pausing to admire you.

He smells so wonderful, holy moly!

Blushing so hard right now.

"I'm doing well, and thank you; you look handsome," you say, blushing quickly, hoping he doesn't notice how he's already influencing you, even though the date hasn't even begun.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, Drew had parked his car and walked around to open the passenger door like a gentleman. He let you walk in front of him, placing his hand softly on your back as you entered.

Drew and you sat in a two-person booth near the bar. You both ordered a glass of champagne with a side of iced water. There were several options on the menu. 

"This place is wonderful Drew, thank you," you exclaimed, your gaze fixed on everything in the restaurant.

He smiles, "I'm happy you like it. I was browsing for places to eat and remembered you saying this type of restaurant was your favorite, so I thought this would be an ideal spot to take you."

Everything in your body slid down to your feet. Knowing that he paid attention to every detail you told him indicates his character and good intentions. You felt your cheeks turn red and butterflies in your tummy.

The two of you spoke about work. At the moment you are starting to work on a new rom come movie; you cannot wait to start filming. Drew has been working on season four of Outer Banks and leaving in two weeks to film in Marco.

After dinner, Drew and you returned to his car. He let you choose the music for the short drive you were about to take. You plugged your phone to the car, scrolled through your playlists, and chose the more relaxed option.

Lana Del Rey, West Coast.

You begin humming the melody while closing your eyes and moving your head side to side. 

Drew begins singing a few words, taking you off guard. You turn to face him, surprised that he is singing Lana Del Rey, one of your favorite artists.

"I didn't know you listen to Lana," you say out loud, pointing to the screen.

Drew grins, "Well, I have sisters who listen to her, and the more I listened, the more I liked her music," he adds as he turns the corner leading to downtown.

You feel yourself liking this man even more.

The two of you continue to discuss your favorite artists. Tonight you've learnt a lot about each other and will continue.

"Would you like to grab ice cream and take a nice walk on the beach?" Drew asks with a suggestive tone, secretly hoping you'd say yes to his question.

"That sounds like a good idea, I'd like that" you smile, "I love the beach so much, it's a safe place for me" you explain.

"The beach is somewhere to let go and relax your mind, no worries, no distractions, just peace and quiet" Drew replies.

"Exactly!"

Drew made careful to park near the ice cream business; there was a parking lot. It's going to be a busy Friday night in the summer. You both knew what you were getting into when you walked out together.

You walked close to each other, chatting rather than strolling silently. Throughout the evening, you found that you two can communicate without being awkward or bring up unexpected topics. You enjoy that about him.

A couple fans spotted you coming down the sidewalk and approached you for a photo. You politely snapped pictures and parted ways. They looked astonished to see you two out together.

"My favorite flavor is mint chip," you remark, pointing at the ice cream flavor through the glass.

"That's crazy you say that because thats my favorite flavor" Drew responds, smiling.

Drew paid for the ice cream, leaving a tip for the nice workers. You two could tell it made their day. They kindly asked for pictures too.

The sun began to set as you walked along the beach and ate your ice cream. The cool breeze, the sound of the waves, and the people looking out into the ocean; the scenery was breathtaking.

You pause to bring out your phone and take a couple photos of the scene in front of you. When you walk on the beach or visit the beach in general, you always take pictures.

When you arrived home, Drew walked you up to your front door.

"You know, I had a great night tonight, Y/N. "I'm glad you said yes to tonight and getting to know you better," Drew says, seeming anxious.

"I had a fantastic night, Drew, and you made it ten times better. You are quite something," you end your sentence in a flirtatious tone, hoping he will catch on.

Drew raises his brows in delight, smirking.

"Oh, really now?" "How about I take you out next week?" He speaks quietly, touching your free hand nearest to his.

"Yes, Drew." You are an excellent young gentleman who made me feel special today, and I would love to go out with you next week," you say, staring at his facial features and seeing how lovely he is standing in front of you on your porch.

"It was a pleasure tonight, Y/N; I'll text you when I get home." "Get some rest tonight, beautiful." He leans down and kisses your cheek before walking back to his car.

After closing and locking your door, you lean against the front door and reflect on what occurred tonight. You smile as you glide your body down onto the tile.

What an amazing night.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@diqldrunks @chenslucy @winterrrnight @rosezza @solanathascientst @runningfrom2am

[bad268]

Hi I really like your stories! And i was thinking that could you possibly write another one for Kimi Antonelli with a reader that can’t speak Italian while they are travelling in Italy? I believe this is going to be really interesting!

Good Enough (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! Some of this is a real conversation I had with one of my friends)

Warnings: Language lol, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1052

Summary: Duolingo can only do so much

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You liked to think that you were well-versed in many things. Italian was not one of those things. That was a bit of a problem especially when your boyfriend is Italian. You would visit him constantly, but you never left his house. 

You were a homebody at heart, so you were more than content to stay at his house whenever you came to visit. It was just who you were.

However, Kimi wanted to show you around. He had a larger break between his Formula 2 season-ender and Formula 1 debut, and you were already planning to stay with him during the winter break. He wanted to take you around Bologna, his home city, and take you to all of his favorite places. This was mainly because you took him to all of your favorite places when he visited you and your home city before the season started, so he wanted to return the favor.

The first place you went to was his favorite cafe.

“But this sign says “bar,” Kimi,” You laughed as you reluctantly followed him to the building.

“Bar is a cafe in Italian,” Kimi laughed as he led the door open for you. You walked in and, true to his word, it was a cafe. You walk up to the counter to order, but everything is in Italian.

“How am I supposed to know what’s here?” You signed trying to recognize anything on the menu. “It’s all Italian.”

“Huh, wonder why,” Kimi joked, “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order for you.”

“Can I just get a coffee with cream and sugar? I feel like that’s easy, right?” You asked looking around at the options, and you saw a bunch of coffee beans behind the counter. Surely they’d have coffee.

“Ciao, vorresti ordinare?” The barista asked as she saw you standing there. You immediately looked over to Kimi for him to respond. 

“Ciao, vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero e un tè con latte,” He said to her before turning his attention to you. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Do they have croissants?” You asked, and he nodded, turning his attention back to the barista.

“E due croissant, per favore,” He replied as he pulled out money to pay. “Grazie!”

“I’m never going to learn Italian,” You groaned as you walked to a table on the outdoor patio to wait for your food. “It’s difficult, and I don’t even know what you ordered us.”

“I could always tell you what I said,” he laughed. “I bet I could also teach you.”

“Please,” You let up as you grabbed his hand from across the table. “Duolingo is not helping. If anything, it’s making it more difficult to understand.”

“You tried Duolingo before asking your Italian boyfriend to learn Italian? Mamma mia!” Just then, the barista brought out your food and drinks before heading back behind the counter. “Here, I’ll help. This,” he said as he gestured to your cup of coffee, “I said I would like a coffee with cream and sugar. Vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero. Try it.”

“I’m going to butcher the accents,” You admitted as you tried it out, and sure enough, you messed up a little, but it was not too far off the original. That could be chalked up to the lack of an Italian accent. “Was that horrible?”

“Not at all!” He encouraged as he took a drink from his tea. “Then I said I also wanted a tea with cream. Un tè con latte. Are you seeing the resemblance?”

“So tè is tea and cafè is coffee?” You asked and were met with a nod from him. “Then latte is cream, con is with, and zucchero is sugar.”

“Yes! That’s all right!” He smiled as he passed you one of the croissants. “Then what would ‘due croissant’ mean?”

“Two croissants, I’m guessing?” You answered nervously but were met with a smile.

“Sì, you’re doing great!” He praised as he brought your hand up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Now, do you know what ‘ciao’, ‘per favore’ and ‘grazie’ mean?”

“Of course, I know ‘ciao’! I’ve heard Bella Ciao before,” You joked. Kimi’s eyes widened as if still asking the question. “It means hi, right?” “Yes, but what about the others?”

“‘Per favore’ sounds like ‘please’ in Spanish, so I’m assuming that,” You replied, “And I bet ‘grazie’ is thank you. You’ve said that a lot, especially after the race, to your engineers.”

“Corretto!” That’s when he noticed you were both done with your drinks and noticed you were done, so he stood up to take the glassware back to the counter before coming back to you. “How about we go shopping? I can keep teaching you Italian while we walk around my favorite places.”

“That sounds fun,” You said as you stood up and followed him down the street, hand in hand. “I need a new jacket anyway.”

“Io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Huh?”

“I need a new jacket in Italian is io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” He laughed seeing your confused face.

“Is this going to be a new theme? Anything I say, you’re going to translate it?”

“Se vuoi che lo faccia,” He said, causing you to glare at him. He laughed lightly before translating, “If you want me to.”

“As hot as I find your accent and you speaking Italian to me, I’d rather you not do that,” You admitted. “Can we just stick to small words that I definitely already know the meaning of and small lessons here and there?”

“Well, what words do you already know?”

“Ciao, per favore, grazie-”

“Word that I did not teach you before today,” He cut you off with a laugh. 

“Uh, amour means love, ti amo means I love you, and um, one that’s not so good willed,” You chuckled nervously as you both walked by a huge group of people. 

“I still want to know what it is,” He pressed once everyone cleared out of the way, and he pulled you to the side in an alley for more privacy. “What is it?”

“Vaffanculo,” You whispered, “It means fuck you.”

“Technically, it means go fuck yourself, but close enough.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[delumimi]

Stay.

Summary: Romantic night with your husband Leon. That’s it.

Gender: Smut with a touch of angst but very soft.

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Just soft sex.

A/n: This is my first smut so don’t make fun of me 😭, i’ve been wanting to write a story like- just vanilla sex because y’all are so kinky it’s scary LMAO. Anyways enjoy your reading and as always let me know your thoughts on the comments, I’ll be answering.

You and Leon were currently arriving from dinner at an Italian’s place, complaining that he could’ve made the exact same pasta at home but after the recent incident when he almost burned the entire house down, you weren’t trusting him again on the kitchen.

Teasing him about his luck on cooking being the same as driving, he gave you a roll of his eyes before getting in the car to start the way home.

The car ride was filled with music on the background and occasionally some small talk between Leon and you as his hand caressed yours kissing it on every stop.

“Tired?” He asked breaking the comfortable silence.

Turning to look at him, you answered.

“A little… Yeah.” You shrink from cold and you rub your arms up and down.

“Want me to turn the heater on?” He turned his head to look at you.

“It’s fine, we are about to arrive anyway.” You gave him a reassuring smile leaning a little him to kiss his cheek.

Smiling back, his eyes returned to the road again.

These types of rides were definitely your favorite, just you and Leon and nothing else to disturb you two after so many days of stress, you finally get to relax a little and pass time with eachother.

It surely has been a long time since you two got to relax and it saddened you.

After a few minutes you arrived home and of course Leon as the gentleman he is, opened the door for you.

“What a gentleman.” You tease him and you stepped out of the car.

“Only for you ma’am.” He helped you get on your feet before walking towards the house door.

Entering the key, Leon opened the door gesturing you to walk in first.

Letting a sigh of relief leave your lips at the feeling of being home, you took off your coat and place it on the sofa before turning to Leon.

You approach him slowly from behind, placing your hands on his chest and resting your head in his shoulder.

“Thank you for the dinner, love.” You said with an evident smile in your face.

You heard Leon chuckle a little before slightly turning his head to the side.

“Anything for you, don’t thank me.” He took one of your hands and kissed your knuckles, you felt your chest grow warm at the gesture.

Suddenly, you felt yourself drown in a feeling of nostalgia. Leon and you finally being able to relax brought you almost tears to your eyes and you think back at the times when Leon used to be trained, returning home at horrific hours of the night and with a lot of injuries that you would treat crying.

Marrying him was easy but waiting for him wasn’t. And the fact that he would be back on a mission tomorrow just made it worst for you.

You knew Leon wasn’t of your property but still… You want to be selfish.

You need it. You need him to stay.

You want to make him forget, get rid of his stress that tormented him every night. Not that you would ever told him, Leon already had enough with his own world and having to deal with your worries will make it worse.

But still, words like “stay” and “don’t leave” will always threat to scape out of your mouth.

Words like “I need you”.

Suddenly, you turned Leon’s body roughly before pushing him into a sweet but desperate kiss. Your hands roaming towards his chest and he gasped in your mouth clearly taken aback but not complaining. You don’t care of the lack of oxygen in your system at this moment, you need him closer.

Need him to stay.

After a while, Leon pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes and god… You will never get tired of the way those beautiful blue eyes looked at you with such an adoration that made your heart ache and skip a beat at the same time.

You caressed his face, lips touching and nose brushing, hands on his chest threatening to get lower.

“I’m glad to finally have you for me tonight.” You whisper in his lips.

“You can always have me to yourself, don’t you know that?” He responds softly.

“Except when you leave.” You closed your eyes, it’s time to tell him. “I know that you have your job and everything but my worry never ceases, you always leave with the promise of coming back to me and I believe you but Leon…” Your lips tremble. “I always need you by my side, I need you when you leave and I need you now and I always will.” You hear your heart on your ears. “Stay with me longer?” You finally open you eyes.

Leon’s bag drops to the floor.

He kisses you.

He kisses you as an apologetic way of saying sorry for everything, for the worries, for the nights you couldn’t sleep, for the tears that fell from your eyes at some point of having an anxiety attack waiting for his arrival.

You feel his tongue entering your mouth making a choked whimper escape your mouth, the familiar ache between your legs forming.

You try to cross your thighs to get some friction but Leon stops you, groaning you look at him with a frown on your face.

“I’ll make it up to you sweetness, patience is key.” A teasing smile forming on his lips.

“You’re no fun.”

“It’ll be worth it I promise.” His hands come down to grip your ass under the fabric of your blue dress. “I will have you naked in any time.” He whispers seductively in your ear, the words alone made a moan escape your lips before you feel him tapping the backside of your knees. Confused, you looked up.

“Let me carry you to heaven.” He says, and who are you to deny him?

You jump and instinctively your legs wrap around his waist, his muscles tense up as he lifts your body up, placing you in his arms gently. He looks at you with a hint of lust in his eyes, his body craving you. Leon’s hands come to rest around your ass again before you feel him rushing to the bedroom.

Leon places you carefully on the bed before leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate but sweet kiss. You spread your legs to make more space for him and your arms wrap around his neck. He only pulls away to take his shirt off, revealing his tone body to you and no matter how many times you see him naked, this man never fails to take away your breath.

You take a moment to look at him as your hands roam against his body, the details and scars painted on his chest… The thought of kissing every one of them crosses your mind, might leave it for another occasion though.

However, there’s one detail about him that makes your eyebrows furrow, the eye bags under his eyes. You knew about Leon’s constant nightmares, making him have trouble sleeping.

He refused to let you know so you wouldn’t worry but after one night of you waking up to see Leon sitting up with heavy breaths and a pale face, he commented on it. You two have made a deal to tell each other when something was wrong so you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain alone.

You thought you were past that.

Your hand comes to gently touch his face, especially his eye bags. He immediately melts under your touch.

“You look tired.” You speak quietly.

“I’ve been not sleeping properly…” He breaks eye contact with you obviously feeling a little guilty.

“You are never sleeping properly Leon…”

“You know me so well don’t you?” He chuckles gently before looking at you through his hair, making him look a little embarrassed and maybe even shy.

“I am your wife, Leon.”

His eyes soften a little before turning again into a lustful look, his hands roaming into your back making you arch against his chest.

“Of course you are,” He leans down, sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck making you whimper. “You’re always here to remind me.”

His hands find the zipper of your dress, not pulling so you could give him the look of confirmation and when you do, his fingers tug your dress off and he stares at you, his eyes filled with desire.

“My beautiful wife.” he whispers and his lips touch yours once more. You feel the possessiveness of his touch, your head spins a little. This man is driving you crazy.

The grip he used to have on your back comes to your breasts, his left hand squeezing one while the other plays with your right nipple, your back once again arching into his hands.

“Please Leon…” You begged, a squeal leaving your lips as he sucks your nipple.

And of course as the asshole he is, he slightly pulls away to look at you.

His fingers run along your chest as he shifts himself to get more comfortable. “Please.. What..?” He asks with a smirk.

Oh fuck this guy.

Wasn’t the begging enough for him?

You whine out of frustration and close your eyes, not getting along with the idea of you begging.

A few seconds of silence pass before Leon breaks the silence.

“Common love we don’t have all night, remember?”

You groan in annoyance before opening your eyes resigning yourself to humiliation.

“Please ugh- need you Leon, I need you to touch me- fuck me please I’m begging.” You look at him through your lashes.

And he was never strong enough to deny you.

He practically rips away you underwear, his fingers running down to your slit capturing the wetness, a raspy moan escaping his lips at the feeling.

And you weren’t doing any better than him, you were a moaning mess once you feel his fingers rubbing your clit and after what seemed like years, one finger enters you immediately curling.

“Fuuuck,” You arched into Leon, missing the feeling of him being close you wrap your arms and legs around him, you pulled his head down kissing him roughly but so desperately. “Please Leon don’t make me wait up anymore.” You were begging again.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

He begins to pull down his pants and his boxers following.

His hardening and aching cock was released out of his pants, you observe in awe as he strokes himself, looking at you with pink cheeks getting a little shy about the situation.

“Like what you see?” He asks.

“Yes but I don’t think I can wait up any longer.”

You sounded desperate but you didn’t even care at this point, you needed him inside you.

He chuckles at your response before lining up to your entrance.

“Well in that case, you will be taking a lot from me.”

With that final sentence, he pushes himself into you groaning at the sudden contact. His tip going in first slowly and your nails scratch his back, Leon hisses at the painful contact before groaning as he bottoms out inside of you. A mixture of pleasure and pain appears and you take a moment to collect yourself. Leon leans down to pepper kisses in your face making you smile at the warm gesture. The pain soon fades and now you are left with the feeling of pure euphoria. Feeling a little devil you purposely clench around him making him let out a whimper.

He laughs breathlessly before putting a hand on your neck and leaning down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.

“I’m gonna make you regret that.”

And with that, Leon’s pace increments roughly taking you aback, moaning like a mantra with every thrust of his hips brushing your g-spot, one of his hands squeezing at your neck while the other grips strongly on your hip, it will surely leave a mark by the time morning comes.

Moaning even louder when you felt him lean down to suck at your right breast. You truly didn’t mean to hurt Leon this time but when you felt his finger rub at your clit, you pulled at his hair- fucking hard.

“You…Should’ve…Told me…” He says between heavy breaths. “That you felt this way.” He takes the hand that was at your neck giving it a final squeeze before his lips connect at your neck, leaving purple marks and hickeys as he continues fucking you.

“And you should’ve told me you were- Ah!- having nightmares again…” You moan between thrusts as you feel him getting deeper.

Leon seems to read your mind and grabs both of your legs pushing them towards your chest, this new angle made him hit spots that had you seeing white lights.

How can this man be so good in bed?

You close your eyes at the stimulation, tears about to fall from your eyes as you feel Leon’s thrust grow faster and harder. You knew he was close by this.

“L-Leon…” You say his name between breaths and you feel him grab your face.

“Look at me.” He says with a demanding tone on his voice. “I want you to see me while you finish.” And god those words alone would make you cum right here in his arms. Obediently you open your eyes to make eye contact with him and you truly didn’t expect what you found in them.

A look of pure love and adoration.

Even when you two were this intimate, Leon never failed to remind you that he loved you, even like this: wrapped in each-others embrace in a lustful but still romantic way as you whisper “i love you’s” between moans and kisses.

“If I could have you like this everyday and never left to work,” Leon cups you face gently. “I would’ve never leave you, gorgeous.”

And of course you finish, and I mean who wouldn’t after those words? You finish and fucking hard to the point you see starts after your orgasm, clenching around him. Leon knows exactly how to get you to your breaking point more than yourself do, you loved that about him. After so many years of being in love with him and 5 years marrying him, you two have your difficulties but always know how to deal with them… Together, you will deal with everything together.

Leon’s expression twitch at the feeling and with some final thrusts and cursing words, he finishes inside of you.

And you embrace him because another thing you know about him is that he likes being hold, not that he would ever admit it out loud, he isn’t a man who likes sharing his emotions but you… You were special, you were the only one who got to see that side of him.

You hear his heavy breathes on you ear before he pulls out of you laying by your side so he won’t crush you.

Smiling a little and you turn so you could rest your head on his shoulder. He smiles down at you and kisses your head, his lips staying there for a moment.

“I’ll call Hunnigan and tell her I won’t be showing up tomorrow.” Leon breaks the silence, his fingers playing with your head.

“Really? You sure?” You hesitate.

“Yeah, would love to spent more time with you tomorrow.” Leon declares, a soft tone was heard on his voice.

And you believe him, you’ll believe all the promises he gave you because he was Leon Scott Kennedy.

A man of words and your husband.

[phthalomushroom]

The Family (2)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of shooting, alys rivers, Italians

word count: 1.7k

notes: thank you for all the love on the first part, and sorry I wasn't able to respond I've been really busy this week. I changed the name and I think this fits a bit better. I hope you enjoy this chapter the next one will be a bit more drama filled - there's plenty more to come. <333

Six Years Ago….

No one ever got a table at Federicos. No matter how early someone called to ask for a reservation they would tell you they were booked out weeks in advance. If you did get a table they would cancel the reservation on you, apologizing for the important event they had to host. Everyone in town knew this challenge, but that didn’t stop anyone from trying to get inside. 

Well, at least that was how it was for everyone besides the Targaryen family. The Targaryens owned all kinds of shops and restaurants across King’s Landing that were fronts for their other dealings. But Federicos was special because it was just a gathering spot meant for celebrations and get-togethers, the family friend who owned it always had the private room of the restaurant ready for use in case the family had a need for it. 

Aemond didn’t tell you much about the family business, you only knew bits and pieces from overhearing conversations or from the gossip of those in the city. He always said that he never liked the idea of you being caught up in the craziness of it all. 

You’ve known Aemond since grade school, basically grew up together. You’d always catch him staring in Science and English. It was only in highschool when his locker was next to yours did he finally start talking to you. Those brief conversations quickly turned into study sessions during study hall, which turned into after school plans, which turned into him asking you out. 

But tonight, the first big homecoming dance of your senior year, Aemond had booked the private room of Fredericos to celebrate with all your friends. You would say that everyone was going their own way but everyone who grows up in King’s Landing usually stays, either opting to start work right away or going to Citadel University.

Unbeknownst to everyone, not that it was their business anyway, you had applied out of the city, far away places.You had gotten into all of them but were still waiting to hear back from your top school at North College of Winterfell. 

Your phone pinged with a text from Aemond telling you he was waiting outside. 

You finished getting ready, though, Federicos was a formal place you never went over the top. You opted cute and semi-formal, since you were heading to the dance right after. You quickly stuffed your purse with the essentials before bounding down the stairs. 

You walked past your passed out father, the typical beer cans surrounding him, and headed for the door when you noticed today's mail had slipped through the door’s mail slot. You would have stepped over it all when you noticed a big thick envelope at the bottom of the pile.

Bending down you grabbed the letter, flipping it over to see it was addressed to your from Winterfell. You quickly opened it, heart hammering in your chest when you read the words you didn’t know you were hoping to see.

Congratulations.

********

There were people who you never wanted to see again from King’s Landing and there were people who you couldn’t wait to see.

Vincent Federico was someone who you could not wait to see.

The small Italian man was as heartwarming as his meatballs and was always willing to do what he needed to help. When he first heard of your moving out after your blow out with your father, he offered you a job as a waitress to help keep you off the streets. When he found out that you were leaving for Winterfell he didn’t say a word to Aemond about it, keeping it a secret until the very day of your departure. 

Of course he would say he knew nothing about it, but you knew he had overheard your conversation with Baela that night. 

Now walking into Federicos the nerves hit you all at once. Vincent smiled as he saw you come in from where he sat at the bar, getting up from the stool to envelope you in a big bear hug.

“Long time no see, kid.” The man grinned in a way that his gold tooth where his left canine should be shimmered in the light.

“I know, I tried to visit but I didn’t want to ruin business.”

He waved you off. “You're outta your mind.”

“No hug for me Vinnie?” Baela piped up from next to you.

Vinnie grinned wrapping his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground before setting her back on her feet. “I saw you last week, you miss me that much?”

“Of course.”

“Careful, Jace might get jealous.”

“Jace knows that our relationship is one of pure garlic bread, he knows better than to interfere.”

Vinnie chuckled, waving his hand as he turned toward the tables. “Follow me, I got your favorite table all prepared.” 

He seated us at the corner booth that overlooked the restaurant. Vinnie had already set out a plate of his famous garlic bread, knowing it was your favorite, as well as having already poured your favorite wine. Since Baela and you have been coming here for years, you already knew what you were getting and put your orders in. 

Baela and you started catching up on the things that you weren’t able to share over the phone. Baela caught you up on the latest gossip of the city, of the schoolmates you left behind. Unsurprising, a majority of your graduating class  still lived in King’s Landing. 

Which meant you were bound to run into someone eventually.

“So,” you started taking a sip of your wine. “What’s the plans looking like for you and Jace?”

By now your meals had arrived, in between mouthfuls of spaghetti Baela asked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just trying to get an idea of who’s gonna get the apartment in our divorce.”

“Why? Sick of me already?”

You chuckled. “No, I just mean with how serious Jace is I’m surprised you two haven’t made bigger moves for the future.”

“We’re still young, marriage now is like being a child bride.”

You grinned, understanding the feeling. “Oh, I know. But have you two talked about moving in? I mean you’ve been together since middle school, you know everything about each other.”

“We knew everything about each other.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since he officially became part of the family, he doesn’t tell me as much. He keeps secrets from me, tells me it's for the best and that he’s protecting me. I don’t know, this probably sounds cliche.”

“It does,” you admit, but you remembered a similar feeling when you dated Aemond. “But that is who he is now.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You leaned closer. “Anything.”

“If the shooting never happened, would you have ranaway?”

You played with the rim of your glass, causing a slight high pitch noise. “I think I would have left eventually.”

“Would you have left with Aemond?”

You looked up meeting Baela’s eyes. “I think if everything didn’t go down as it did I would have stayed here and I would have regretted it like my mother did.”

“Is it really so bad?” She asked. “Being here, being with us?”

I shook my head, about to respond when a hand slapped down on the table, nearly spilling the wine. Alys Rivers leaned down smiling sweetly at you.

“Look who's back in town.”

Her green eyes were like daggers as she looked you up and down. You returned the gesture noting her skintight red dress, her too tall heels. 

You smiled. “I see you haven’t changed since highschool Alys.” 

She whipped her dark hair over a shoulder, threading her fingers through the strands. “Well, I hope you’d see some change in me (Y/N), I certainly see you have changed.”

You remained composed, taking a sip of wine. Even though she was three years older than you she still found it in her to act like the child she did in highschool. Aemond always told you it was because her dad didn’t give her enough attention but you knew she hated you because you didn’t come from a well off family. You didn’t back down then and you certainly weren’t going to back down now.

“So what have you been up to?” You asked, faking nice.

“Oh, I’ve joined the family business.” She made note to move her left hand to the side of her lips, bringing attention to the ring on her finger.

Your ring. The same oval diamond ring you saw four years ago. 

Which meant…

You let your eyes widen for a second before composing yourself. “Wow, congratulations! I’m happy for you.”

“Aren’t you going to ask who the lucky man is?”

She would not win, you wouldn’t let her. You can spiral later, but not in front of her.

You shot a look at Baela to find her frowning at her plate, she knew and she didn’t tell you. Now you were in the midst of a battle of wills and she was trying to sit it out. 

Hell no.

You kicked Baela under the table, gaining her attention. If she was going to keep something like this from you, the least she could do is help.

Baela cleared her throat. “Who is the lucky guy Alys?”

 “Well, you should already know who it is,” she waved Baela off. “It’s Aemond of course. We’ve been going out for the past three and half years, now. The proposal was long overdue.”

“Of course, you aren’t getting any younger are you?”

Alys sucked her teeth. “What a joy it is to have you back in the city, (Y/N). You’ve really been missed. I just hope that the Targaryen are as welcoming as I am.”

“She doesn’t have any involvement with the Targaryens anymore, Alys.” Baela sat up straighter at the mention of the family.

Her family now.

“Of course she does. Aemond told me everything about your relationship you know,” she leaned closer. “I just hope they don’t find out the real reason you left.” 

Your heart sank but you kept your composure. You finished your wine. “I have no idea what your talking about.”

Alys grinned, clearly satisfied. “Well, it was nice running into you. Send my regards to Jace, Baela.”

She went to leave but before you were relieved of her presence she reached into her black hermes bag and pulled out an envelope, setting it on the table.

“Aemond and I would love to have you at our celebration dinner.” With that she blew you a kiss and joined her friends in the private room.

You didn’t look at the invitation as you grabbed it off the table and shoved it in your bag. “What the fuck just happened?”

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy

[mizusnose]

Valentine’s Day with the Smith’s

An early valentine’s day post about my beloved Mrs. and Mrs. Smith HCs. Enjoy 💓

———

Under the guise of a romantic valentine’s day date, you and Mizu are guided onto the rooftop of a fancy italian restaurant to have a stake out of the table nearby. The sky is an open endless reflection of the city beneath, a sparkling bowl of ink, one that matches the spill of hair on the soft pale of Mizu’s shoulders.

Her shoulders are out, the dip of her back framed by the sparkly red dress that reaches the floor, a slit up the side of her thigh, revealing unending skin that stretches and moves with each step up towards the rooftop.

We should probably order appetizers, Mizu muses, once you’re both seated. She eyes you, closing the menu and gesturing for a waiter to come over.

You try not to focus on the line of muscle that works up to her shoulders when she turns to order. There’s a line of her ribs that are exposed too when she hands the menus over. Her eyes a frozen-over lake as she gazes at you and says: and my wife’ll have the sangria, thanks.

“Wife” You think, and accidentally cough on nothing at all. Mizu chuckles and the night commences.

Your targets are in the corner of the roof, a young couple that would look otherwise completely normal had it not been for the mission you’ve both been assigned.

“So, we just wait here? No drop-off, no hand-off?” You tinker with the wine glass, the stem of it firmly gripped by your fingertips: the same place Mizu has her own. Her palms encompass more of it though. Your gut kicks at the sight.

“Guess so. Not much info. Just wait” Mizu has ordered something lighter than your own sangria. It sparkles and fizzles in the moonlight and accompanying golden lights lining the rooftop. The color is golden, translucent, and it touches Mizu’s red lips softly and you wonder what her mouth will taste like after she’s finished her wine. A sweet ripened mandarin? A bitter splutter of raspberry? You wonder and wonder and—

“Your appetizers.” The waiter sets down something much too small for you both. A sparkle of oysters laid out on ice and decorated with some…leaves? Your life before now was far from glamorous, so you poke at it with your fork, confused.

“Like this.” Mizu interrupts, she’s chuckling and covering her mouth. The line of her eyes dark with the eyeliner she’s applied tonight. Her eyes bright and eager, “You’ve gotta like, well, slurp it.”

And Mizu, ever the perfect teacher, puts the clamshell to her lips, the same place her wine glass was and slurps.

You think your soul leaves your body.

“You can try. Though, if you’ve never had it before, might not enjoy it too much.”

You nod, dazed and amazed at Mizu across from you. You both have strayed away from your lives before now. Content with having lazy morning sex in the shower and fucking Mizu on the kitchen countertop when she walks around naked and pretty and tall.

You don’t know the first thing about her, and yet, she’s predictably smug when you cough around the oyster. She teases and brushes her heeled foot against yours under the table.

You smile, and she returns it, shy beneath the curtain of hair she’s let down for tonight. Usually it’s tied up into a tight bun, a single curl brushing her sharp cheekbones. You adore her in either way, but you think it’s rare to see her like this: laid down, spilling with beauty, and sparkling in the night.

The night passes quickly like this. Jokes and banter and easy flirting that turns into Mizu revealing bits of herself you probably wouldn’t have known otherwise.

“Yeah, and I can speak Japanese but kanji is too difficult now. Can’t quite..understand it.”

She’s shy when she smiles around her glass of wine. She eyes you across the table, a wide plane of tablecloth separating you both. You nod, and lean in closer,

“Do you know any bad words?” You grin, pleased when Mizu rolls her eyes and pushes you away, “Nothing awful! Just curious.”

“I don’t curse too often.”

“Sure you do.” You speak lower, get closer and keep eye contact, “Your dirty mouth in the mornings, in the shower, in the kitchen this morning when I ate you—“

“I don’t—!” Mizu is red. The wine had already allowed a blush to crawl of her neck and to smother her ears until now. Yet, her whole face blooms under your gaze, your words, your leg against her, “I don’t curse in Japanese. Not without sounding like a gangster, i mean.”

You hum and let Mizu change the topic, her face calming to the shade of ripened peaches, soft and fuzzy and warm.

The couple leaves and you both pay the bill before hurrying out behind them. Your hasty following turns into a stroll around central park, the night a hazy turn of lights and shadows. A tree blocks the sight of your couple and they don’t mind too much.

“Maybe this is just a set-up.” You wonder, aloud.

“What, like an ambush?” Mizu pulls her blood red dress aside and shows the gun strapped to her upper thigh.

Your mouth dries and your jaw goes numb, dropping open slowly.

“No. I meant—like, maybe this is supposed to be a date? We’re wives after all. Maybe they want us to, you know, act more like it?”

Mizu shrugs, clearly confused. You grab her hand, intertwine your hands together and push through the grass lining the path they’re on.

“Wait—where are we—!”

And then you’re both under the dark of a large tree. The leaves shudder at your arrival and dance in the wind. You put your finger to your mouth and motion to hush. Mizu listens, giggling softly.

“You know, you’re very pretty tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Mizu quirks a dark eyebrow up, challenging and teasing.

“Every night. Every morning. All the time.”

Mizu looks at you, through the darkness and the shadows. A streak of moonlight falls on her face and you say before you can truly think it through:

“You’re hot too. The last mission, your face was covered in blood and—“

“You’re such a perv.” Mizu jokes, but the way her smile lingers on her face makes you continue.

“And your legs tonight, your thighs.” Your palms fall on her hip, drag down to her thigh, the inner part of it, “I want to..do so many things to you.”

“Then do them.”

You kiss under the dark. The clouds cover the moonlight and you’re both drifting together in the sea of darkness. The trains have stopped running by the time you’re done making out. The ride home is tense and by the time you’re both home, you take Mizu apart: piece by piece, scream and yells alongside her incessant begging.

You think it’s funny when Mizu wakes you up with a small simple note:

Mission Completed!

———

Anyways, I love them a lot and i even sprinkled in some sub mizu so hope you enjoyed :)

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where fem!reader is from Europe and one of Alana‘s best friends.She meets Hannibal accidentaly at Alana‘s house and over months they bond over literature/culture, as she dearly misses her home. They often try to recreate a scene from a book, except this time the scene is partially sexual in the end.The reader thinks Hannibal would stop before the scene, but he just goes on (smut?)

Hannibal X Reader: Words on paper

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), Handjob, kissing, mutual pinning, female reader, no use of y/n.

Word count: 1,9K

When you first arrived you were worried you wouldn’t fit in. Alana had gone above and beyond to assure you that everything would be just fine. The two of you had met when Alana spent a small time in Europe for a college course and from the moment you met you’d become fast friends. When you told her you’d be going to America for some time she was quick to invite you to stay at her house, assuring you she had the space and that you wouldn’t be a bother at all. As the days went on you found yourself growing more and more comfortable. The two of you would go out at night, after Alana was finished with work, and she would introduce you to the most interesting people. But by far the person who most caught your eye was Hannibal. 

Your meeting wasn’t planned. Quite the contrary in fact. Hannibal had come over to Alana to discuss something about Will, one of his patients, who you also knew happened to be Alana's friend. As luck would have it you had been laying on the couch reading when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!”

You placed your book on the table and padded your way over to the door. You opened the door, immediately being greeted by the sight of a man in a suit. You gave him a small smile.

“Hello. How can I help?”

“Oh Hello. I'm Looking for Alana Bloom.”

“I’m here.”

Alana peeked out from behind you, calling Hannibal's attention to her. You stepped to the side allowing Alana to move forward. She whispered a small thanks to you as she leaned against the door.

“Everything okay?”

“I came to talk about Will he- Sorry who is that?”

Alana turned to look at you as you walked deeper into the house.

“Oh she’s a friend from Europe. She’s staying with me for a while.”

She stopped to think for a moment. 

“Actually I think the two would get along great. Just a sec.”

You heard Alana call your name causing you to stop where you were and turn around.  She motioned you over with her hand. You made your way back to the two of them. Alana introduced you to Hannibal who placed his hand out to you. You took it, giving it a good shake.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

The rest is history. 

You’d nagged Alana to give you Hannibals number and pretty soon the two of you were seeing each other everyday. You still made sure you had time to hang out with Alana but whenever you weren't with her you were with Hannibal. The two of you shared a passion for art and literature. Hannibal became a connection to your home. The two of you spent hours pouring over the most ancient works known to man. He’d help you with your English and you let him practice his Italian on you. Things between you seemed to click with such ease it was like you had been made for each other.

You and Hannibal had a designated activity for each day of the week. On Mondays you discussed his FBI work, because your view of things helped him quite a lot. Tuesdays were for talking about art and Wensdays were home cooked dinner at Hannibal's house. Thursdays were for Noir films and Fridays you saved for your Girls night out with Alana. But of all the days your favorite was saturday. On Saturdays you’d go over to Hannibal's house and the two of you would act out a scene from the book one of you was currently reading. Neither of you knew what the scene would entail. You found out as you acted it out. 

In all honesty you should have expected the scene to take the turn that it did. There had been signs from the beginning that this was the road you were heading down. It was a romance novel after all. The more you read the more your body is filled with an anxious feeling. You knew Hannibal would stop before things went too far. He’d done it before with other books so you expected him to do it again.

You were wrong.

 You had just begun reading the new paragraph, fully committed to your character.

“He gazed at her, his eyes boring into hers. She watched him take a step forward….”

You stopped, your eyes moving over the next words. In the book the male character, Hannibal, was supposed to kiss the female character, you. You looked up at Hannibal unsure of what to do.

“Keep reading.”         

“O-okay. Uhm. His hand wound around her waist.”

You felt Hannibal's hand against your body. Your breath quickened at the action. You glanced at the page, realizing your character had a line.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It's forbidden. You know what my father will say.”

“Since when do you care about what your father says?”

Hannibal's gaze never left his book but his delivery of his lines seemed so real you couldn't help but get lost in your little fantasy. You turned your page and began to read again.

“Before she was able to response he silenced her with-muff”

He silenced her with a kiss. That was what was written. And that is exactly what Hannibal did. Your book nearly fell from your hand at the surprise you felt as Hannibal's lips met yours. You managed to keep your grip on it as your other hand moved to hold onto Hannibal's neck. Once he pulled away he gazed at your flustered expression for a moment before turning his attention back to the book. He started to read the next passage, his actions mimicking what he read.

“He leaned down to kiss her neck. Hands grabbing desperately at her body as the desire for her grew inside him.”

You gasped as you felt Hannibal suck on your skin, his free hand squishing the flesh of your hip.  

“He wanted to taste her. He wanted to see her squirm beneath him.”

“Hannibal.”

He was fully committed to the story. He would have read through the rest of the chapter if you’d let him. But the whine of his name coming out of your mouth made him break character. He looked at your blush stained cheeks and the dilated state of your pupils. You wanted this just as much as he did. 

Screw the book. 

You two would write your own scene.

Your books crashed to the floor as both of you moved to tug at each other's clothes. You tugged at Hannibal's shirt, removing it from his pants. He continued to assault your neck, his tongue lapping at the skin as he struggled with your zipper. You tangled into each other, moving across the room without any particular destination. You bumped into his harpsichord, wincing at the contact. Hannibal stopped moving at the sound, his head moving to look at you.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m okay. Just wasn’t expecting that.”

The two of you broke into laughter as you finally took in the situation you found yourself in.

“Gosh you make me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

“I know the feeling. When I'm around you I feel like a teenager. Everything you do excites me.”

You give him a playful shove causing him to smile. You grin up at him, moving to place a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Would you mind if we moved this to the bedroom?”

“Not at all. Lead the way.”

Hannibal had been griping at you so fiercely you thought for a moment he didn’t know how to be gentle. 

He proved you wrong. 

Your hands curled into his hair as he buried his face into your cunt. His hands held onto your thighs, keeping you from squirming from him. A moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your clit. You were sure the way you were clawing at his skull must hurt but Hannibal didn’t seem to mind. He was fully content in lapping at your cunt for the rest of the night if it meant you’d continue to moan the way you were. Your vision was starting to become blurry as your eyes continually rolled to the back of your head. You gasped as Hannibal's fingers moved inside you, helping his tongue bring you to your peek. His name spilled from your mouth like a prayer. You spasmed beneath him, causing Hannibal to tighten his grip on your body. He lapped up your cum, feeling your body sag into the bed as you came down from your high. 

You moved your hand off his head, a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You hadn’t realized how hard you’d been holding onto him until your body relaxed. Hannibal kissed your thigh making you look down at him. You watched him make his way up your body, stopping to suck on your breasts for a moment before coming face to face with you. You gave him a lazy grin which he returned with a toothy smile. He leaned down, placing a kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring your body to his. 

As much as Hannibal wanted to fuck you he could tell you were tired. He pushed himself off you, laying beside you in the bed. You turned to lay on your side so you could watch him. His hand moved to his dick, wrapping around it. You inched yourself closer to his body, lips moving to kiss his neck. Hannibal's hand began to pump his dick, eye closing as he did so. You kissed his jawline, your hand moving over his chest. Hannibal let out small grunts as his pace quickened. You body was completely spent but you managed to lay on Hannibal's chest, your hand moving closer to where he was. The feeling of your palm on his hand made Hannibal's eyes snap open. He saw the top of your head, his gaze moving to where your hand was. You wrapped your hand over his. He called out your name causing you to lift your head from his chest.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you out.”

“You don;t have too. I know you're tired.”

“Shh, relax. I want to.”

Hannibal released his hand from his dick, allowing your hand to take his place. Your thumb moved over the head, gathering the pre cum that was there. Hannibal gasped as your hand began to move, stroking his dick at a slow pace. His hips bucked up, searching for his release. You continued to pump him, your head moving so that you could place kisses on his chest. Your teeth scraped at his neck as you began moving up his body. Hannibal's hand wound into your hair as you kissed him, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth. His dick twitched against your hand, causing you to speed up your movements. Hannibal moaned out your name as his seed spilled into your hands. 

You relaxed into Hannibal's chest, arm moving to wrap around his waist. Hannibal nuzzled his face into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. Your eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion started to creep up on you. Hannibal noticed the shift in your breathing, realizing you were beginning to fall asleep. He tugged the sheets over both of your bodies, making sure to cover your bare skin from the cold. He let out a sigh relaxing into the bed as sleep washed over him.