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dingochef · 2 months

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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Protected P in V, oral (female and male receiving), age gap, CougarOFC!, mentions only of mommy and daddy kink, mentions of cheating

Summary: A chance encounter at a bar with a man on the young side leads to a delightful night.

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.5k

On the Prowl

You saddle up to the bar, sighing as you try to expel the frustrations from stupid negotiations you've had to deal with today. You were trying to make a deal between your aerospace company and another to be the exclusive suppliers of the next versions of the F-whatever fighter for the Navy. You order a Manhattan hoping the sweet burn of the vermouth and whiskey will sooth away your frustration.

The bartender has barely slid your drink across on its coaster to you when a man approaches, about your age. You snort internally to yourself, there is nothing about your overall air and appearance that makes you approachable. Your hair is frazzled, your giant laptop bag is slung on the stool next to you, and you're pretty sure your residual resting bitch face is dialed up to an 11. Still, the prospect for a possible quick romp in the sheets and the slim possibility of an orgasm, makes you turn ever so slightly as he sits down next to you.

“Tough day?” he offers to you, after ordering a drink.

“You could say that,” you humm, noncommittally and take a sip of your drink.

“Well, I'm all ears if you want to talk about it,” the man replies, offering his hand,

“I'm Mike, and you are?”

You take his hand and tell him your name.

“Pretty name for a pretty lady,” Mike responds. You stifle your eye roll at the cheesy line. The drinks arrive and you fall into a light if stilted conversation of small talk. The usual topics are covered the weather, why you're both in town, and a few sports references. You're pondering if you want another drink when Mike leans closer to you,

“So this bad day. You want to talk about it,” he says as his hand sliding out to catch your wrist, “Or do something about it?”

He rubs his thumb over yours and you catch the glint of a wedding ring that you had missed earlier. Any thoughts you had of maybe seeing where this could go are immediately stopped.

“You're married,” you state, flatly.

“It's complicated,” he counters.

You let out a long exhale,

“Not complicated enough that you didn't even go through the smallest bit of effort to hide the fact. I'm not interested in being the other woman. A little too recent experience from the other end of “it's complicated.”

Mike nods, properly chastised and walks away with his drink.

You sigh and lean down on the bar with both elbows, letting your head hang down as you feel more frustrated, the possibility of some distractioning sex long gone now. A disappointing thought forms in your brain as you remember that you did indeed forget to pack your vibrator. But somehow you remembered condoms and lube, ever the optimist. Not a hopeless situation, but would have been better with some “assistance.”

You're brought out of your pity party by a slight southern twang delivering this line,

“A woman so beautiful deserves to have a smile on your face and I'm just the man to do it.”

The line is accompanied by the dazzling smile of a very handsome blonde man, definitely younger than you and with memorable green eyes.

“Has that line ever worked?” you ask, your patience strained by your interaction with Mike the Adulterer, as you survey the man in front of you.

“You tell me,” he replies smoothly, the corner of his mouth tugging up into an endearing smirk. He's gorgeous but young enough it's a little beyond your usual range in men. Tired by the evening so far, you take a harsher tack back.

“You're out past your bedtime, baby boy,” you volley back, drinking the last bit of your drink and chewing on the cherry.

“Baby boy? I assure you I'm all man, I could be the man of your dreams if you let me,” he counters, smirk still firmly in place. You contemplate your next move as you chew on the cherry from your drink.

“What do you want with me? I'm sure Addison or Kayla and her other twenty something friends would be more than willing to be wooed by a cheesy line and nice smile,” you say, flicking your head towards the gaggle of giggling coeds at a high top table near the windows. He looks over and shrugs,

“There's a difference between women of quantity,” he tips his head towards the giggling girls, “And a woman of quality,” he waves his hand at you.

You laugh,

“Okay, that's smooth. What's your name baby boy?”

“Jake, Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” he extends his hand, “And you are?”

“Y/n,” you reply, setting your hand in his.

“Nice to meet you, y/n, can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, why not,” you shrug.

The bartender comes over and you order,

“Manhattan with rye, please.”

Jake nods and says,

“The same.”

The bartender walks away to make the drinks and you consider Jake.

“So, what's your game here, Jake? I'm a little old for you if you haven't noticed,” you state.

“You're beautiful and you're not that old. What 35, 38 tops?” he replies.

You laugh,

“Try 45, I use sunscreen. What are you, like 28 maybe? Can you even rent a car?”

Jake laughs in response,

“32, I use sunscreen.”

His parroting response makes you laugh. He slides his hand into yours, running a soothing circle with his big thumb on the pulse point of your wrist in an understated gesture.

“And my game is that, you are gorgeous and everything about you screams that you're in control. The tailored business suit, the designer bag, expensive shoes, and a watch probably worth more than my first car,” he pauses for a second,

“Let me guess, you're an upper level executive in a high stress industry in town for a conference, because I for sure would have remembered you if you've been here before. So, here's my bet, you're either a woman who knows exactly what she wants in bed and leads the way or….,” he leans in closer, “Needs someone to boss you around and take control, so you can let go.”

He leans back and gives you a brilliant smile.

“Either way I know I'll have a hell of a night.”

Before you can answer, the bartender reappears with your drinks. You take a sip and consider your response, Jake doing the same with a quirked eyebrow in question.

“You're a confident little shit, I'll give you that.”

He smiles, wide and bright.

“And yes, I'm in San Diego for business. Yes, I'm a COO for an aerospace firm. As for the other question, that's something you'll have to figure out.”

“I'm up to the challenge,” he replies.

You take a moment to consider the man before you. He's tall, broad shoulders, dark blonde hair, and a delicious amount of stubble that you can already conjure up the feeling of on your inner thigh. He's wearing a dark brown leather jacket over a navy blue button, dark jeans, and charmingly, cowboy boots. All in all he is gorgeous.

“Allright, Jake, I'm game,” you say, leaning into him, close enough you can smell his aftershave, a cedar wood smelling aroma. He grins and takes another sip of his drink.

“A few deal breakers to get out of the way. Married?”

“No. You?

“Recently paroled.”

“Congrats on your newfound freedom.”

“Girlfriend, or other romantic entanglement, such as it's complicated?”

He laughs,

“Nope, I don't have anyone or anything tying me down. I don't even own a houseplant.”

“Good, protection is required. I have some in my room.”

“Agreed.”

“I give what I get, if you want me to suck your dick, you'll need to eat me out first, and be good at it.”

“Don't think that's going to be a problem, sweetheart. I'm a man of many talents.”

“And finally, you will not call me mommy or any other similar derivative. If that's an itch you need scratched, then maybe Addison and her friends would be happy to call you daddy.”

He laughs,

“Not my cup of tea, darling. So where's this hotel of yours?”

“Right across the street,”

“Then by all means lead the way,” he says, as he pulls a fifty out of his wallet and leaves it in the bar.

Jake offers his hand to you as you step down from the stool. He grabs your laptop bag and easily slings it over his shoulder as his other hand finds the small of your back. The walk to your hotel is quick, Jake has pulled you close to him.

The lobby is relatively empty and the echo of your heels clicking across the marble floor fills the space. Once you're In the elevator, Jake sets your bag down and pulls you close for a kiss. It starts out soft, he is almost tentative, a surprising contrast to his unmatched confidence earlier. But now you crave a different energy tonight; after a day of frustration you're going to get what you want.

You run your hands through his perfect hair and lick at the seam of his lips, begging for entrance as you press your whole body against his. You back him up to the wall of the elevator. A heavy roll of your hips against his makes him moan and your tongue slides in next to his, finally.

His hand slides from the chaste placement at your waist and grabs a firm handful of your ass as he shoves his tongue down your throat. The heat between you escalates but before you start fucking in the elevator the bell dings announcing your floor.

You step back and appreciate your work.

Hair askew, your dark cherry lipstick smeared across his mouth, Jake looks ready to fuck.

“You look good like that. It's a great color for you,” you tease stepping out of the elevator with a quick glance over your shoulder

Jake snaps out of his lust induced trance grabbing your bag and trotting quickly to catch up with you. He places a trail of kisses down your neck as you press the key card to the handle, a warm hand kneading at your waist.

The door opens and you almost tumble in,

Jake is quick to drop your bag as you lock the deadbolt.

When you turn he closes in on you and backs you up against the door. He initiates another kiss that you eagerly return. The same heat from the elevator returns and burns brighter as you start to pluck at each other's clothes.

You push Jake's jacket off and start to work at the buttons of his shirt. Lips never leaving each other finally he is shirtless in front of you and it is a glorious sight. All hard planes of pure muscle with a delicious amount of chest hair.

“Aren't you just the prettiest?” you coo, obviously checking him out, manicured hand running down his sternum and teasing at his belt buckle

He simultaneously preens and blushes at the praise.

“On your knees,” you order and he quickly complies, one eyebrow raised in question, just enough attitude to make it interesting. He looks up at you while you unbutton your blouse and drop it to the floor, revealing your black lace La Perla bra. He kisses the hem of your skirt, green eyes blown with lust watching your every move. You raise your left foot and put your Louboutin on his denim clad thigh and ask him,

“Help me out of these heels, sweetheart.”

The last word is said with a little bit of mocking, a bit of manufactured twang. Jake smirks at your teasing and unbuckles your shoe, setting it aside. You switch sides and he repeats the motions.

He thumbs tentatively at your skirt awaiting your permission

“Go on. Let's see those skills, pretty boy,” you taunt. He slides your skirt up and groans when he sees the matching garter belt and stockings to your bra and no underwear,

“Fancy lingerie, too,” he says, his mouth close enough to your bare mound you can feel the gentle puffs of air against your skin.

“Enough talking, get to it,” you order, the earlier frustration of your day seeping back into your mood.

He nods and places a firm hand on your stomach to anchor you to the door. His other hand slides along the seam of your stocking clad leg starting at your ankle gently lifting your leg up to rest your thigh on his shoulder, granting him even more access to your glistening cunt.

“You smell so good, I bet you taste even better, sweets,” he coos.

Before you can implore him to hurry the fuck up he dives in, parting your folds with his tongue to begin his attack on your clit. The intensity knocking your breath out of you. There is no warm up, just all the way to 100 right away. Your heartbeat speeds up to match the fast strumming of his tongue against your clit. You card your fingers through his hair to ground yourself just as he teases your slit with his finger.

Jake circles around your opening with his thick finger, a mischievous look in his eyes as he looks up at you, tongue never ceasing on your clit. You roll your eyes and push your hips down desperate to get his finger inside you just as he relents and slides his finger in quickly followed by another. The stretch is more than you've had in awhile, no thanks to your ex and busy schedule that makes dating difficult, but it is exactly what you need right now. And then Jake curls his fingers just right and sparks blur the sides of your vision. He earns the privilege of having you pull harder on his hair and moan a breathy,

“Fuck, that's good.”

He raises his eyebrows down below you, smugness apparent even when his mouth is full of your pussy.

“Don't let it go to your head,” you say back, lacking the bite you had hoped for.

He laughs into your cunt, but continues his mission. Fingers pumping away at you. The band inside of you starts to pull taut, that exquisite build up to release starting to form deep in your belly.

“You better not fucking stop! Fuck, right there,” you shout. Looking down you catch Jake's eyes and his gaze is as unwavering as his rhythm is steady. He continues his assault on your clit and cunt, the sounds of your arousal and his tongue obscene in the quiet darkness of your hotel room. You've always been loud when you come and tonight is no exception, the words rolling off your tongue,

“Fuck, so good. I'm close, Jake. Make me come, pretty boy.”

He responds by thrusting his hand harder and faster and lapping at your clit at even higher speed. He just grazes his teeth on your clit and you're gone.

“Fucking God, I'm coming, don't stop. More,” you shout as the bliss breaks over you, grabbing Jake's hair and holding him to you. The pleasure is so much that you go up on the balls of your feet before you come back down and continue to grind your pussy on Jake's face. Jake complies and keeps up the intensity and soon another climax is barrelling down on you. This one is so intense that when it crests, you practically collapse over Jake, your knees having gone weak as the pleasure ebbs through you. He catches your hips and guides you down to his lap. He holds you as you catch your breath, sweetly kissing your temple as your chest heaves.

Breaking the silence he asks,

“Did I earn that blow job?”

He earns a dry chuckle from you as you turn to straddle his thighs.

“I think that was at least adequate,” you mumble as you lean down to kiss Jake, licking the taste of yourself from his chin. He deftly unclasps your bra from behind and drops it to the floor.

“Been wanting to see these beauties since I saw you at the bar,” he murmurs as he slips your nipple into his mouth, his rough hands cupping your breasts. Your hands again find themselves in his hair, pushing him harder into your chest, your tits heavy and full with desire. As much as you enjoy Jake's efforts, the marble floor of your hotel suite is cold against your overheated skin.

“Get on the bed and get naked,” you command Jake after harshly pulling him away from your chest by his hair. You notice the wave of pleasure wash across his face from the pain. Confidently, you get up and walk over to your bag, making sure to sway your hips in an enticing way. A quick search of the bag and you find the condoms you're seeking.

When you turn back Jake is on the bed, on his back completely naked. He is gently stroking his hard cock as he watches you stalk towards him. Throwing the condoms on the nightstand you lower yourself to the bed near his feet. Like a lioness on the prowl, you crawl up the bed towards him.

“I knew you'd have a big dick. No one is that confident without one,” you say as you get even with him. He grins in response, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watches you approach. You settle yourself so your wet cunt is on his abs, achingly close to his dick but so far away at the same time.

“I know my assets,” he says, reaching up to pull you down for a kiss. You slide your lips along his jaw, trailing a path of kisses down his neck and across his chest. You lap at the hard buds of his nipples as you grind yourself on his rock hard abs. Jake lets out a whine as you continue your efforts. You stop all your movement and look up to Jake where he is clenching his jaw.

“You want something, pretty boy?” You taunt, sliding your pussy just a bit lower. The movement occupies the last two brain cells he has available and his words come out in choppy mess,

“Want–need your mouth. On me, suck me please. Fuck, please.”

You laugh condescendingly as you pretend to ponder his request,

“I did say I give as good as I get and you did get me off. I suppose I could be nice and return the favor.”

He visibly relaxes, the worry flowing out of his face. He pushes himself up on the bed so he is in a sitting position, primed to watch your every move.

You position yourself so you are kneeling between his legs, his delicious cock standing proudly at attention.

With the faintest of touches you let your fingers trail up and down his dick. Surprisingly he stays stock still, waiting for you to move at your pace, his dick twitching at your feather light touches.

“Look at you, pretty boy. So ready for it, hmm?” you ask as you grip him a little bit harder. His eyes roll back as you start to stroke him, the throbbing veins in his cock gliding along your palm.

When you lean over and start to kitten lick the ruddy tip and Jake snaps open his eyes, not wanting to miss the splendid sight in front of him. The groan you pull from him when you spit to aid the glide of your hand is one of the best things you've ever heard. Your grip gets firmer as you slide your hand up and down, increasing your pace. On the next downstroke you follow your hand with your mouth, lips matched with your fingers.

It doesn't take much for Jake to hit the back of your throat and you relax to take him down your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake pants as you work to diligently suck his cock. Your eyes locked with Jake's as the pleasure rolls over him.

“So good, you look so good sucking my cock,” he drawls, his accent getting a bit thicker with arousal. You're about to change up your technique when Jake cups your chin and pulls you up to him for a kiss.

“As much as I would like to come in your mouth. That pretty pussy needs to be fucked,” he says, flipping you on your back as he reaches for a condom. He quickly rips the wrapper and rolls the condom down on his hard cock.

“You ready for this?” he asks, gliding his tip along your clit.

“Yes, just fuck me aleady,” you answer, a little exasperated.

When he finally slides home, you're glad that you had the little warm up with his fingers against the door. He's huge, probably the biggest you've ever had and it is amazing. He goes slow, dragging out the experience, a low moan escaping his mouth when he bottoms out. A gentle rhythm forms between the two of you as he starts to thrust and you roll your pelvis to meet him each time.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunts.

You laugh,

“Thank my pencil dicked cheating ex-husband. Didn't give it to me for over a year.”

“What a fucking tragedy, this beautiful pussy needs to worshipped,” he agrees, thrusting particularly hard into you causing you to cry out.

“Give it to me good, pretty boy,” you scream, wrapping your legs around his waist as he sinks deeper into. Every thrust hitting deeper and deeper.

“Harder! Jake, harder,” you cry out.

“If you want harder, you'll get it, sweets,” he pants.

He pins your hips to the bed as he pulls out earning a discontented squeal from you. Before you can express the thought, Jake flips you over with ease and you land on your stomach. He is quick to grab your hips and pulls you flush to him as he kneels on the bed.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he grunts as he slides back into your warmth. His strong grip on your hips the right side of too much, you clench around him at the thought of bruises tomorrow, aching slightly as you sit through hours of meetings and negotiations. He slams into you and bottoms out quickly. His pace is relentless as he pounds into you. The exquisite way your pussy flutters around his cock is pushing you closer to the edge. Each slap of skin from his strong thighs against your bare ass ratcheting up the growing tightness in your belly.

“Can feel you getting close, darling. Just when I thought this pussy couldn't get any tighter, you're strangling my cock,” he grunts out between harder and harder thrusts.

“Less talking, more fucking,” you volley back, meeting each of his thrusts with your own. Jake lets out a low chuckle,

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

On his next thrust he extends his hand to wrap around your shoulder pulling you against him abruptly, your back to his chest.

“Fuck,” you pant, this new angle hitting all the right spots deep inside you. A strong arm wraps around your waist as Jake's free hand snakes over your garter belt and parts your folds. When his rough finger contacts your clit you cry out, arms and hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Jake guides your arms up and arounds his neck, your hands tangling themselves in hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunts in your ear, “So fucking tight, can't wait to feel you come on my cock.”

All you can do is moan in agreement as he circles your clit with practiced and precise motions.

“What a beautiful pussy,” Jake pants, his ability to speak now impressive,

“And fuck I'm glad you gave the me the sweet, sweet privilege of fucking you tonight.”

He pinches your clit and the building wave inside you crests as you come apart clenching hard on his cock.

“Oh fuck, fuck, I'm coming,” you scream, definitely loud enough to be heard by your neighbors.

“That's it, give it to me. Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts.

He maintains his rhythm as he fucks you through your orgasm intensfying each aftershock. Jake is holding you up as writhe in pleasure seeking his own, hips pistoning away. You tug hard on his hair as you command him,

“Come for me, Jake. Come for me.”

All of it comes together and Jake holds you hard against him as he spills inside the condom, a long low groan rattling up from his chest. Your mutual rhythm slows like a swing coming to rest and you fall to bed, Jake following, flopping on his back next to you.

The silence after is filled with yours and Jake's heavy breaths, willing your heartbeat to slow down. Jake is lying with his forearm over his eyes, a light sheen of sweat on his chest.

You roll over and pull his arm down, and ask,

“Did you figure out your answer?”

His brow furrows as he contemplates your question,

“That I lead or let go in bed?”

He laughs,

“You're definitely in charge and I'd let you lead me anywhere,” he replies, laughter in his voice. He gives you a quick peck and slides out of bed to take care of the condom. You stretch and sit up and start taking off your stockings. Jake is picking up his clothes and watches you shimmy out of your garter belt. He puts his clothes back on as you get ready for bed, starting with removing your makeup.

He comes to stand behind you as you swipe the cloth over your face, his full clothing a nice contrast to your naked skin. He kisses your shoulder gently,

“As much as I'd like to stay for another round, I'm due at base early tomorrow.”

“No hard feelings, pretty boy. Thanks for a good night,” you reply, turning around for one last kiss.

He sighs when your lips part and gives you a kiss on the cheek as he breaks away. Turning back to your nighttime preparations, the sound of the door opening and closing filtering from the main room, you smile to yourself. As you slide into bed, you see the note on the hotel pad,

“Call me if you want some more company.

–Jake.”

A phone number is written under the note.

The next morning finds you holding a latte and being shown around hangar after hangar at North Island. What this is supposed to do for your negotiations, you don't know but it beats sitting in a stuffy conference room. Admiral Simpson is droning on about the fighter weapons school when he catches the eye of someone behind you.

“Ahh, here is one of the test pilots for the new F-series,” he says as you turn around and meet some now familiar green eyes,

“Y/n, meet Lieutenant Jake Seresin, call sign Hangman.”

That goddamn smirk is firmly in place as he shakes your hand.

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#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hangman #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #hangman smut

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asha-mage · 8 months

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WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd

A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-

It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.

Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.

The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.

The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.

I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.

I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.

That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?

I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.

The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.

(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).

I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.

Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.

I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.

RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT Musing #WoT Book Spoilers #ToM Spoilers #WoT On Prime #WoT s2 e3

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tachimichishrine · 6 months

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"never enough"

⫭◦ପଓ◦⫬

tachihara machizou x fem!reader {bodyguard AU!}

warnings: nsfw ; oral (receiving); car sex mentioned; cursing ; idk it's kinda vanilla

he was a spy within a spy within a spy.

first, the hunting dogs; they were not family. they were reminiscent of days, stupid days where he would thrive off of only wet smoke in the early hours of the day and the adrenaline of doing bad, doing something. cracking open safes, breaking into banks and carrying around his own weapons for the fun of it, just to see if he could. and boy, could he get away with it until that fateful day.

he was thrust into a world that was not his own. bloodthirsty, holding some kind of compulsive desire to exact revenge on the fiends and criminals of the world no matter the cost. it was not him, it was never him, but they were the family he was given.

then, the port mafia; his second life. an agent, an outsider among men and women who had dedicated their entire lives to this organization. he never felt like an outsider when he would command the black lizard or be commanded by his superiors. it felt natural. it felt real. too bad they were just a cover, a mission and a statistic among all the other cases and criminals he'd dealt with and would deal with throughout his life.

until the day mori asked him specifically into his office, offering him a third life. it was getting hard to keep track, but what other option did he have? a woman who was near and dear to mori's heart who had been loyal to the mafia for many years as a supplier of weapons. you didn't live in the underground, the opposite really: your toes dipped in crime only through the port mafia, but your entire body waded listlessly in the life of a regular person who was some kind of accountant or financial advisor or something unimportant enough to slip through one ear and out the other as soon as he heard it from the boss. you were good at providing them with artillery, though, and that's all that was relevant.

recently, mori had explained, your identity was leaked and many organizations have been simultaneously threatening to kill and recruit you. you dialed him nearly every evening, begging for some kind of help. for the longest time, that help was under the form of an escort named chuuya, whose presence alone by your side was enough to deter those pursuing you.

however, the executive had more important affairs to attend to for the coming months. a trip overseas, a negotiation, a mistake that needed correcting. sending one of his most powerful tools just to escort a regular civilian home at night was not viable. he would need an alternative. tachihara.

he did not want to be a babysitter. fuck, he was meant for more. besides, what kind of intel could he gather if he was stuck spending his time receiving calls about suspicious characters, begging for him to come and rescue you? he didn't have time for a damsel in distress. he didn't have the patience for it.

the first time, you were nervous, shy even. understandably so. tachihara thought it was funny when you'd eye his gun nervously or gently pull your body away from his whenever he got too close. no wonder people were targeting you; you make it too goddamn easy.

the second time, he was woken up at 2 in the morning with a call. your breathing was heavy and it sounded like you were recently crying from the short sniffling and wavering of your voice. someone was outside your apartment, and they were yelling at the window that they were going to send every limb of yours in separate boxes to 'your old pal mori'. he thought you were scared shitless for no reason. by the time he got there, bodies littered the ground. you were dragging one by the legs, and gave him a look. "aren't you gonna help me with these?"

the third, he had a little more respect, but still remained skeptical. turns out his role as a bodyguard involved more scaring off people and disposing of bodies than it did actual defense. not that he minded, he just didn't understand it. mori seemed to believe you were completely helpless when in reality you carried weapons on you at all times. of course you did. you were the port mafia's largest supplier, after all. he blurted out his question at you; you laughed and said that he wouldn't understand. the conversation ended there.

after two weeks, you were calling him nearly every day. word had got around that chuuya wasn't guarding you anymore, and a lot of people wanted to try to make a move. tachihara was glued to your side as soon as you'd finish work, and would sometimes crash on your couch if he was too exhausted from beating thugs to a bloody pulp on your way back to your apartment. he was beginning to understand that you didn't need protection, you needed the image of it to keep you safe. maybe you weren't so ditzy after all.

a month in, you were ambushed in front of your apartment. tachihara suggested you move, even though you both knew it didn't matter where you lived. blood splattered across his cheek and white shirt when he stepped into your room. he was washing it but it refused to come out. he stepped out to find you in your bra, scrubbing your shirt as well. his eyes met yours and something stupid happened. pants dropped on the floor shirt tossed in the corner boxers torn off his skin. teeth sunk into flesh and fingers running along lines of ecstasy. he did not sleep on the couch that night.

he'd lost count of how many times it had been after that.

his phone would buzz and a pool of excitement would build up in his chest, not knowing if it meant you needed him or you needed him.

heavy panting and the smell of sweat and gunpowder would emanate from the car he'd escort you in. the frame creaking as he pounded you senseless or your hips rocked hard enough to make him see spots of black among stars. he had to keep the collar of his jacket up to cover all the love marks you plagued his skin with, the rest of them vanishing from his thighs and chest. red blooming in stripes along his back from where your fingernails desperately pulled him into you. he'd always be gone by morning and it was never enough.

he didn't know how he'd gotten here.

fucking your thighs, which were clenched together as your face was buried in the sheets and ass slammed against his abdomen with every thrust. one hand was on your hips while the other was plunged between your legs. and he could feel the way you would tremble when his throbbing cock would glaze past your pussy, not close enough to relieve the aching pulse but just enough for him to feel your arousal dripping onto him.

"put it in," you rasped, barely able to wait any longer as his thumb rubbed furiously at your clit, ring and middle fingers too soaked from the way they would pump you up. this was the way it would always go: you would give out the orders and he'd follow through. he would always follow through.

he ran both of his hands along your skin until they were both stationed at your hips, and he tilted your ass further up so he could get a good angle. you didn't like waiting and he knew it, but something made him want to brat a little tonight. he rested the tip against your sensitive spot, but didn't make any motion to push himself into you. he'd already reached his high from your thighs, so he had time before it became unbearable for him, too. although the way you arched your back and tried to back yourself onto him might just prove him wrong.

"you're such a dick," you swore under your breath before pushing your palms into the crumpled sheets and getting up. your back his chest until it was chest to chest and you had him pinned beneath you with a look that meant he was in for more than he could handle. before long, he was paying for his little stunt with the way his lips were sucking down on your pussy, tongue jutting in and out of you as you rode his face. shit, he was hard again.

his fingers left the comfort of your thighs as he kept eating you out messily, hungrily like a man starved, and they soon trailed down his body to relieve himself. except they never got that far— in one swift motion you had his wrists pinned above his head all the while still rocking yourself on his face.

"fucking whore," you grit your teeth, expression sporting a shit-eating grin that had planned for this, but hips twitching and breathing thready like a hypocrite. you were not going to let him out from under you as long as he doesn't work his magic, but he fucking loved it when you took control. if it weren't for the pulsating throb and carnal desire to fuck himself on you, he might've just stayed like this all night.

but you weren't done.

even after you clenched around his tongue back arching head thrown back like you'd never felt this good before, he let his lips rub against your sensitive spot while you rode out your high. as soon as your hips left his lips, he found himself gasping for air but still looking up between your legs like he needed more. you repositioned yourself on him, still holding his wrists above his head, and finally let yourself sink down onto him with a string of curses.

tachihara wasted no time in fucking you from underneath, every drop of your hips meeting the upwards thrust of his own. you let go of his wrists in favour of digging your nails into his abdomen, grip nearly as tight as your pussy around him. he'd been loud all night, but this was the first moment a long, desperate moan escaped his lips rather than the grunting and heavy panting and curses.

you thought he was at his prettiest like this. face smeared with your cum, cheeks red and forehead covered in sweat which made his short strands of hair cling onto his skin. his back arching his hips thrusting into you and every muscle in his body tense as he chased the feeling of you all over him. you wanted to tell him how gorgeous he looked but choked on your own moan as he hit a dull spot deep within you.

it was never enough, but your alarm clock was reading 3:32 and you had called him well before midnight. his skin still had red marks from the way you had him tied up and smacked his ass while he was bent over the edge of the bed. he would never admit it out loud but you knew from the way he would whimper into the pillows as you pumped up his cock that he loved it when you handled him roughly.

even now, as both of you were having trouble breathing properly after going through the most intense of it, you left his length inside of you. you grinded against his body deeply yet slowly, almost imperceptibly so, as you kissed him in the same manner. your hands roamed his body again, until they settled among his tuffs of crimson and pulled his face deeper into yours.

once you grew tired of the taste of his lips, you moved onto that of his jawline, his earlobe and his neck. sinking your teeth into his collarbone, drawing blood only to lick it clean and kiss it all better. he laid down, letting you do everything you wanted. he'd never said no before.

you placed a final chaste kiss against his lips before pulling his face into the crook of your neck and his body into yours. you gently pulled him out of you with a squelch, and felt yourself clench around nothing as the feeling of warmth dissipated.

it was never enough, but it did a damn good job anyways.

#down bad tm #tachi fics #im unwell for them #tachihara michizou #bsd tachihara #tachihara x reader #bungo stray dogs tachihara #tachihara smut #tachihara michizou x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #tachihara x reader smut

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bewilderedbunny · 1 year

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Weedman (Eddie x Reader fluff) 18+only!

This was originally going to be smut but I got distracted by the idea of flirting with Eddie while he makes bad jokes. Just over 800 words, no pronouns are used for reader.

Warnings: Lots of drug use talk, reader's mom speaks of food in a negative way, there's a joke about sex work but it isn't at any sex-workers' expense (it's just Eddie being silly) reader is a stressed out college student, I think that's all.

*I also wanted to mention, I did not come up with the joke Eddie makes at the beginning of the phone call, it's just something I've heard around and I'm not sure where it originates from

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Part 2 is here

You had just finished exams for your Junior year of college and you were drained. Normally, you would stay in the city while working for the summer, but this year you decided to take a break and go back home to stay with your family. You had hoped this time off would provide some much-needed relaxation. Speaking of relaxation, you had become a bit of a pothead while away from home. The amount of weight that magic little flower would lift from your shoulders was incredible. You hadn't smoked in high school, but you remembered the local dealer at the time. "Reefer Rick" how could you forget a name like that? Unluckily for you, Rick was picked up last month and wouldn't be out until your break was long over.

You thought this may be for the best. You had been smoking pretty regularly to help alleviate the stress of school, maybe a tolerance break could help reset your nerves. Then that night your mom asked if you were really going to have dessert since you already had a roll with dinner. You realized weed might not be enough to get you through this break. Maybe horse tranquilizers or a lobotomy would do the job.

After dessert, which you savored every bite of, you went to your room and decided to try to find a new supplier. After a few unhelpful phone calls consisting of people reminiscing about high school (how could these people miss hell so much?), you decided to call Robert Swan. He was a friend of a friend who seemed to know just about everything about everyone in Hawkins. Robert let you know that Rick had someone dealing underneath him.

"Huh, I never took Rick for the "management" type."

"Well, he's not exactly running a Burger King but yeah, he's making his way up. Oh my god, did you hear about-"

Robert rambled to you, gossiping about people you couldn't care enough about to remember. After "oh really?" and "no way"-ing your way through the conversation, you got the information for the dealer, thanked Robert, and said goodbye before he could trap you into listening any longer.

You sighed while looking at the paper you had written the dealer's information on. "Eddie Munson" the name was unfamiliar to you.

You dialed the number given to you and after a few rings, a man answered.

"Hawkin's mortuary, you kill 'em, we chill 'em. Would you like to make a reservation?" You took a second to process what he said before realizing the joke.

"Yes, please. Embalming table for two?"

He laughed and sounded embarrassed "Oh shit, I thought you were someone else. Sorry about that. Thanks for playing along."

"No problem. Out of curiosity, who did you think I was?"

"My uncle, he calls me on his lunches at work sometimes to check in, it's fun to mess with him, make him laugh."

"That's sweet he checks on you."

"Yeah, I guess it is." Eddie leaned against the wall twirling the phone cable with his finger.

"Oh, who is this, by the way?"

You tell him your name and how you heard about him.

"Words getting around that I'm the new go-to man, huh? Maybe I should make business cards."

You reply, "What would they say? Eddie Munson: amateur herbalist?"

He laughs and says, "Was thinking: 'Eddie Munson: Dungeon Master, Musician, Weedman, Phone Sex Operator.' Maybe add a drawing of a wizard or a dragon too."

You giggle at his silliness and say, "Don't forget to add mortician to that. How's the phone sex business treating you?"

"Not great, still haven't figured out where my dick goes in the phone." you hold your head in your hands and laugh. He laughs along with you.

You look at the clock, it's already midnight.

"I guess I should ask you about buying since that's the reason I called."

"Oh yeah. Shit, this salesman stuff is hard. How much do you want?"

"What can $50 get me?"

"$50 worth of weed."

You roll your eyes "Sounds like a deal. Can we meet tomorrow? Say 10 am?"

"10 am?! What am I, a doctor?! Who gets up at 10 am during the summer?"

You laugh and say, "Sorry, I didn't think about your beauty sleep. Please forgive me. How about 2 pm?"

"He agrees and gives you his address

"It's a date. Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

"Sweet dreams, Weedman."

Once you hang up the phone, you realize you've been bouncing your leg this entire time. You're unsure if it's from the general nerves or the fact that you've been flirting with a stranger. Was that even flirting or were the two of you just idiots? You think about tracking down your old yearbook to see if he's in there, but decide maybe it'll be better to have the mysterious Weedman's appearance be a surprise.

#i may do a part 2 if people are interested ☺️#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie fluff #eddie x you #eddie x reader

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buttercream-princess · 1 year

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The First Night In Rio (Oneshot)

Summary: Last year you had more losses than wins, so when the opportunity to go to Carnival in Brazil came along, it was the healing getaway you needed. Along the way, you meet a beautiful stranger at the club who provides you with the sexual healing you also needed.

**I’m terrible with summaries but you get the gist. 😉

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, Peeping Tom Behaviour, Unprotected sex, SMUT, interactive, public sex, cheating

Word count: 7.7K

Paring: Alfred Enoch x Reader

(Only slightly edited | only proofread once!)

Thank heavens, the year was finally over. 2022 was filled with nothing but heartbreak, worrisome regrets, and waves of pain that kept you up every night, leaving puddles of tears on your childhood plushies that always knew how to soothe you. Without your plushies, your go-to sappy playlist on Spotify, and your favorite California red wine, you were sure the earth would've swallowed you whole.

In March, your fiancé of two years, Elijah, called off the engagement without explanation or closure. He left you standing there speechless, surrounded by the half-empty apartment the two of you shared, with just a brief goodbye and dirty dishes in the sink.

"I think it's best this way. We were never gonna make it," he said bluntly.

As Elijah's belongings were already packed and out of sight, you were left to cancel the wedding invitations and hires alone. Elijah didn't even bother to help cancel the suppliers and planner, leaving all the nitty-gritty, heart-aching tasks to you. Your best friend of ten years, Iyana, was by your side the entire time, helping you tick everything off the wedding disaster checklist. That was the easy part.

Administrative tasks come naturally to you, but the hard part was the inevitable loneliness and continuous questioning of "Why?" when you slept on his side of the bed at night, smelling his cologne in the sheets and trying to hold onto what was and the remnants of his love that was no longer there.

The endless headaches from crying and lack of self-care due to the cold sting of depression left you in a mess.

In November, you finally received an answer to your "why" about Elijah. It was during a wine and movie night with your friends, and you were beginning to forget about him, even if only for the moment. That is until Iyalna asked you to call her phone because she thought she had left it in her car.

"Got you, girl. I'll call it now," you said, tapping open your phone and dialing her number.

"Thanks, lovely," Iyalna said as she headed out the door.

You could hear muffled buzzing coming from the kitchen. "Iy, I think it's here!" you called out, but there was no response. "Oh, she can't hear me. She must have gotten on the elevator already..." you thought, following the sound of her phone.

You peeled back a bag of chips that was hiding her phone and pressed down on the home button to turn off the vibration.

Elijah - 2 Messages

Wait, Elijah? Your Elijah? Why would he be texting her?

Two seconds hadn't gone by, and your curiosity got the best of you. You usually respected boundaries and were not a nosy person, but this called for investigation. You unlocked her phone. You didn't know what to expect, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw next.

"Can't you just cancel on Y/N tonight? I swear she asks to see you almost every week. She's so needy, like a sad little puppy 🙁"

"I miss you. Come home soon."

"Also, I'm staying up for when you get back. I may or may not have bought you something that I want to use on you. 😏"

Hell broke loose when you confronted Iyalna with the texts. Extensions were pulled out, and blood was drawn that night. Your other girlfriends had to pull you off of her.

It was a nasty sight but you felt no regrets. A good ass-whooping was all the closure you needed. In a way, you were grateful for the falling out. It answered all of your questions and remedied the painful nights you experienced daily. From that moment, you were completely done with fiances, dating, best friends, and overall letting people into your vulnerable and annoyingly soft heart.

Although you were satisfied with the end result of the whole situation, you felt the burn of two heartbreaks double-time over. You painted on a happy face every day, but you were subconsciously in agony, mourning people who you thought were your soulmates.

Something as devastating as what you experienced called for a life cleanse. By December, you challenged yourself to enjoy life without dating or romance, and without allowing people to toy with or manipulate your heart behind your back. Your emotional wall was up like a barricade on a battlefield.

Sure, this choice of yours had some toxic holes, but it kept you safe. And that's exactly what you wanted: a sense of comfort and "peace".

The agreement you made with yourself did have its perks, you must admit. You learned the beauty of saying "No" to things you had no desire to participate in, whether romantically or platonically. But this boundary was bittersweet; friends started inviting you out less and less, and eventually, you forgot what it was like to be touched by someone with the desire to connect with you on a deeper level.

January was kicking off with a bang. You had taken all your energy and put it into your job at Beleza Do Mar, the most prestigious beauty and wellness company in North and South America. As a social media marketing manager, you spent day and night pushing out magnificent results that exceeded expectations. So much so that work had become your crutch, a rewarding replacement for any kind of relationship.

In fact, you were working so hard that your boss took note and became both pleased and worried. You were working from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m., beyond the usual hours. Psyched up on caffeine and adderall, you sometimes even forgot to clock out and return home. But your presence and dedication were definitely noticed.

One afternoon, after another sleepless night at the office, your boss, Maya, called you into her office.

"So, Y/K, your performance has been phenomenal," she said.

"Thank you. I just want to make sure everything is perfect," you replied, your finger jittering with the hem of your skirt due to the five black coffees you've already downed that morning.

"Yes. Everyone appreciates all the work you've been doing. You've raised our sales numbers just from your insight." A thin-lipped smile formed on her lips. "But..." she lingered, her smile slowly fading into a stern gaze.

"Yes?" You knit your eyebrows together in confusion.

"But at Beleza Do Mar, we can't possibly - or legally - allow you to work more than 38 hours a week. I looked at your clock card online, and you've been working 45 hours per week."

"I don't see the issue. I've been acing every project that's come my way, plus handling the extra tasks of everyone in my team and picking up slack in Communications."

"That's the problem. You're working seven hours beyond our full-time employee bandwidth, and that's not even including the wellness seminars and out-of-office engagements that have been assigned to you." She showed a downward smile as her brows narrowed together. It was as if it was painful to present you with this news.

"So...am I...fired? Please don't tell me I'm fired." Your stomach churned. "This job is all I have left." you say, feeling a teensy bit pathetic, but you couldn’t help being so transparent, it was the truth. This job was your be-all and end-all at the moment.

Your boss quickly jumped to your relief. "Y/N, I know you've had a difficult year. I share my sympathy with you. I know things haven't been easy for you. Beleza Do Mar is a wellness company, and we don't find pleasure or joy in overworking our staff..."

You stared at her, eyes wide open and heart racing, waiting for her to continue.

"We are giving you an all-expenses-paid holiday in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, with three extra invitations for guests of your choosing. It's a yearly trip that the higher-ups go to for Carnival. One of the vice presidents called in sick and couldn't go, so it's been passed down. I figured, out of everyone, you would benefit from the trip the most." She paused, breathing in, and a fixed grin grew on her face. "This is off the record, but my love, you need a break. You've been working yourself to the bone. This would be an enlightening time to go to Rio, smell the flowers, and connect your feet to the welcoming soil of the mother..." She smiled with a glint almost shining off her holy teeth, "Mother Earth, that is."

Of course, she would say that. She's a homeopathic vegan doula turned executive president for a company that was in Forbes' "The Global 200" list. This was something that you could never quite get your head around. She's a product of the company, you guessed.

"I understand...and am extremely grateful. I just can't up and leave my job. I have bills to pay," you said, mumbling the last bit.

"No need to worry about that, flower child. We are covering all the days you are on holiday. You'll be paid for every workday, limitless room service, plus per diems that are quite gracious, if you ask me."

Your posture relaxed in your chair as you heard this. This sounded like a dream. Almost too good to be true.

"What about my projects?"

"Not your problem while on holiday. I'll have Jennie in Socials take care of everything. All you have to worry about is what you're wearing for Carnival and lathering up on Beleza Do Mar 50+ sunscreen while you're there. The South American sun takes no prisoners, trust me." She cheerfully informed you.

You let out a sigh of relief while pondering over your options. Though you had arising work questions and tried to fix made-up dilemmas to protest about, you took a minute to sit on the idea of a holiday. You looked back up to Maya, who had her computer screen turned around to show you the five-star resort you'd be staying at.

A plunge pool and limitless room service didn't sound too bad. You hesitated to respond, quickly gathering your thoughts.

"I mean...I have nothing to lose. Why not..." A thought of consolation eased into your mind as you eyed the kind luxurious bed shown in the photos on the laptop.

You couldn't help the goofy smile as you gave your answer. "Okay, I'll take the holiday."

Maya let out a high-spirited "Fabulous!" followed by reassuring elements about the trip that were sure to put your anxiety-driven mind at bay.

Carnival in Brazil? That was an event you'd always wanted to go to. Once you put your over-eager girl-boss demeanor aside, you were shyly beaming with joy.

What were the odds of this trip falling into your lap? If you needed a sign from God that you deserved some sense of calm after the storm, this was it.

_________________________________________

"Okay, and are you wearing the skin-toned sheer tights I bought you with your carnival outfit?" your mom blissfully asks.

"No, Mom. My legs look fine just as they are," you say.

"Sweetie, I told you your cellulite looks like a striped Bengal tiger. It's beautiful, I just love it! Nature, gorgeous. But don't you think you'll catch more bees if your honey is hidden? Or however that saying goes," she blurts out, not even thinking once to mince her words.

"Mom!"

"What? I'm only saying what I think is right. Plus, it's your father's fault you have that backside. Those Y/L/N genes are too potent."

"Oh my god, I'm not speaking about this right now," you blatantly state while shaking your head as the bellboy at the luxurious hotel you're staying at packs your bags onto the luggage carrier, guiding your group into the entrance of the accommodation.

February whined around, and eventually, you found yourself in Rio, ready to get blind drunk, dance until your hips go numb, and practice the Portuguese that you've been learning on Duolingo for the past month. Unfortunately, with the price of unbreakable boundaries, you've burned more bridges than you could count on your fingers, so those three extra tickets you were given were going to waste until you mentioned the trip to your family in a group Facetime. By the time you accidentally mentioned that you didn't have anyone to attend Carnival with, your little sister and mother already volunteered themselves to fill the spot, along with your mother's best friend, Tamara. There was no turning back when they decided they were coming, plus you could use the familiar company. You've been lonely in the city for what felt like centuries.

You near the front desk, tapping the bell as no one is around to attend to you.

Your little sister, Nia, already has her phone out, capturing every second to post on her Instagram story.

"Nia, delete that. Now."

"What? No way. This is funny as fuck. It's only going on my close friends."

"We just landed like 30 minutes ago, and you're already airing out my business? You are unbelievable." You aim to take her phone, but her hand slaps your movement out of the way, and suddenly, the two of you were squabbling over her phone, making a scene in front of everyone watching.

Embarrassment was an understatement, but you were more embarrassed at the thought of her friends in your hometown reporting to their older siblings that your whole derriere was up for shits and gigs.

"Girls stop, you're being ridiculous," your mother says as she takes selfies with Aunt Tamara, already basking in the vacation vibes.

Who would have thought you and your 20-year-old sister would already be bickering over Instagram posts at 7 PM in the afternoon of the beautiful paradise that is Brazil? You were grown but not too grown to put your little sister in her place.

From an earshot, you hear the concierge clear their throat and speak out loudly.

"Boa tarde senhorita (Good Afternoon, miss), how may I help you?"

You instantly end the debacle and give your attention to the front desk, straightening out your clothes and readjusting your hair.

You force a toothy smile as you respond, "Hi, I'd like to check in. We are under Y/L/N. There are four of us."

"Si, let me just check…alright, we have you in our presidential suite. I'll just have to grab identification, and I can get the keys for you."

Presidential suite? Maya wasn't lying when she said this was 5-star, damn!

The handover happened swiftly, and soon you and your family were unlocking the door to the suite.

All you could hear were gasps as you stepped into the room. Soaking in the rich greenery and smell of sea salt water, you run to the deck outside and take in the beautiful scenery. Your heart welled with lovely goodness; this is exactly what you need.

You were a 10-minute stroll from the beach, the sun was setting in a pink-hued orange bake, and the sound of early festive parties for Carnival was all happening on the beach. You were speechless, just in complete awe.

"This is better than I expected. I'll give it to you. This is amazing," Nia says as she comes up from behind you, joining you at the rail of the suite.

She was right; this is beyond amazing.

"Thanks. I'm just happy we're here." You childishly raise a brow and look over at Nia, not being able to hide your giddiness; a smile creeps up on your lips.

"What? Not mad anymore?" She asks.

"How could I be? Do you see this? I'm just…grateful." A single tear escapes your eyes, exhaling out all the stress, worry, and heartache that you carried with you to Brazil, in complete gratitude.

"Aweeee, look at my big baby. It's okay, let it out." Nia wraps her arms around you, embracing you in a tight squeeze as the two of you look out to waves crashing on the shore.

Feelings stirred and brewed in you; you didn't know what it was, but everything coming into place just made you emotional.

"Y'know, even though you're a bitch sometimes, I'm happy you're here. And I love you," you mumble into her hair, hugging her back.

"I know."

"And I know we might both be jet-lagged, but how does 'First night in Rio, getting fucked up off some shots and funk carioca' before Mom and Aunt Tamara crash our night sound to you?"

"I don't know what funk carioca is, but I heard shots, so I'm in." Nia laughs, resting her head on your chest. "And it's better we fuck off before they start getting into the bar. I don't wanna hear Mom singing any Prince to us tonight."

You and Nia giggle to yourselves at the memory of your mom doing karaoke whenever she gets drunk.

"Let's unpack and take showers. Tonight we get fucking scattered." She exclaimed and cheekily smacks Nia's bottom before heading inside to the suite.

—------------------------------------------------

Thanks to Nia's research on the best nightclubs in Rio for young people from Tiktok, the two of you were able to find a hidden gem that played tasteful R&B tunes and served delicious cocktails. As most tourists did not know about this club, the Y/L/N girls were able to stand out, and locals were dancing with and buying drinks for you all night.

After three margaritas and three shots, you were feeling your skin and your confidence was skyrocketing in the outfit Nia picked out for you. She suggested ditching the heels for some flats, as this is something true Brazilians would wear to the club. Thank god you listened to her, as all the girls sported sneakers or sandals.

A local boy who had been buying you drinks all night asked if you wanted to dance, but you declined, saying you were taking a break and feeling tired. He nodded and went to dance with his friends. Although he was cute, he was young, and you would pass him off to your sister. Meanwhile, Nia was preoccupied with a girl with sun-beached curls pressed against the wall of the club, trying to lay some game despite not speaking an ounce of Portuguese. You chuckled to yourself, watching the interaction like quality comedy television.

After a few songs the girl leaves and you mindlessly watch Nia approach the bar, crossing your legs as you waited for her to get you both a drink. A man with a fine muscular build stood next to Nia. He was tall, rocking a bleached platinum blonde buzz cut, wearing green cargo pants and a fitted singlet with a singular necklace hanging off his neck. He was fine.

He said something in Nia's ear, and she laughed. It seemed that this girl was on a roll, as she had almost every good-looking person at the club trying to make a pass at her. Nia listened to him with a look of confusion on her face, turned, and pointed to you, replying back to the man. He nodded and glanced over at you, a sly smirk on his face. You felt heat rise on your cheeks, wondering what they were talking about.

You awkwardly look down at your phone and press away at random apps, distracting yourself from the handsome strangers gaze. Moments later all you hear is rows of drinks being placed on the table in front of you. They looked like nice fancy cocktails, not the cheap stuff. It turned out that the tall guy Nia met at the bar, who was now sitting in VIP, had ordered every cocktail on the menu for you and Nia. He asked Nia what drink you liked, and she told him cocktails so now you were getting a taste of everyone. You were flattered by the gesture.

Looking up at the sexy stranger, you caught him staring you down with a smug smirk on his lips. It was like he knew his attention had you feeling a type of way. You smile and raise one of the drinks up to him, chucking him a thumbs up as if to gesture that it was a good choice. He licked his lips and nodded his head, not sparing you from his effortless sensual gaze.

You clench your thighs together, already feeling your bud starting to buzz. You glance up at him again, but he was no longer sitting at his table. You look around the club, trying to spot his platinum cut, but you couldn't see through the crowd of people. A sigh escapes your lips. "Well, that was nice. For the short time it lasted," you thought.

"I gotta pee, can you mind the drinks?" You ask Nia.

"Of course!" She says, sipping away on a blue cocktail.

You get up from your seat and head to the restrooms, only to find a long line outside the ladies bathroom. You’ve had too many drinks to wait for 20 minutes; you’re just about ready to make a puddle in the club right now.

You decide to make your way to the male bathroom and barge in, throwing the men in the quarters off guard.

"I’ve seen it all before, there’s nothing you have that could shock me. Eu eu? Eu só tenho que fazer xixi! (Me me? Me just have to pee)" You exclaim as you walk in. You were 100% sure what you said didn’t make sense, but that was the least of your worries.

The male clubgoers in the bathroom remark sentences to you in Portuguese that you couldn’t make out, but they clearly weren’t pleased, apart from the flirty foreign catcalls and whistles in the mix.

Most of the men clear the room when you entered and you lean against the wall next to a urinal, waiting for a free stall. Out of the corner of your eye, you can just make out the frame of a tall somebody.

You dare to look, finding that tall somebody to be the sexy stranger who bought you the row of cocktails. "Oh…my…god. Fuck." You think, as he lines himself up with the urinal right next to you.

You knew he was attractive but didn’t know he was this fine. It was almost criminal how beautiful he was up close. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your core starts setting off fireworks.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to snap yourself back to reality, but your eyes remained on his beauty.

He lifts his shirt, revealing his marbled abs. He was cut to perfection. A body so heavenly sculpted, it would put Michelangelo’s work to shame. Your eyes fall to his curled snail trail as he unbuttons his belt, peeling the hem of his boxers down.

He stands completely oblivious to you gawking, as if you blended in with the neon lights and concrete restroom wall. A breeze of his vanilla musk cologne sucks you right back in, and that’s all it takes for you to go feral. Your eyes shamelessly flock down to his manhood, catching a glimpse of just how much wood he was packing.

A low gasp leaves your mouth. You couldn’t hold it back. His member was a shocking 9 inches of lust and astonishing girth. Even on soft, he had a weapon that could demolish your walls, which were already flooded with your slick. Your heartbeat begins racing, matching the beat of your pulsing clit, which had become its own entity at this point, yearning to be fiddled with and sucked on by him.

You look away to hold on to whatever was left of your dignity. Yet when you look ahead, you automatically glue to his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his back muscles flexing as he takes care of his business.

You tightly press your thighs together, trying to put a damper on waves of juices drenching your thong. He chuckles, a sly smirk on his lips. You quickly look away, knowing damn well he caught you out. Heat flushes your cheeks as you throw your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“Shit.” you murmur.

"Eu te mostro o meu se você me mostrar o seu. ('ll show you mine if you show me yours.)"

His voice was deep and warm, inviting even. You didn’t understand what he was saying, but whatever it was, you liked it.

“Oh- I…shit. I’m sorry!” You apologize, not able to find words for your behavior.

He tilts his head and finally looks at you, smug written all over his face while putting his goods away and zipping up.

“I didn’t mean to look.”

You definitely did.

“I’m just waiting to use the toilet. The line for the women's toilet was packed. I, ah… eu preciso urinar? (I need to use the toilet.)”

He shakes his head, laughing at your attempt to speak his language. He walks over to the sink, not saying a word nor responding to your dramatics. Judging by his silence, you can only assume there was a language barrier.

Going off the fact that he or anyone else in the restroom wasn’t processing a single english word you were saying, you thought, “Fuck it. No one's listening anyways,” then went on to babble your train of thoughts out loud.

“Why? Why do these things happen to me? Why couldn’t I just mind my business? No, I had to be nosy.”

He watches you in the reflection of the mirror while washing his hands with a pleased look plastered on his face. You want to run away and hide, but his gaze is pouring unholy thoughts into your mind and you like all the nasty things he was making you think.

You just want him to take you to an alley behind the club, pull your skirt up and put all his 9 inches inside you. You know it would hurt, he's too big, he’d leave you creamed with rug burns for days - you're sure of it.

You snap back to reality when a door to one of the toilers opens, and a man exits. Still thinking out loud, you drunkenly narrate to yourself, burping out giggles here and there as you enter the stall.

You relieve your bladder and wipe multiple times, having to thoroughly clean up the vat of slick on your slit. The disgustingly horny effect he had on your body was evident. You were a mess. Drenched panties, swollen clit, and stained inner thighs from your juices. Even your asshole was lubed up enough to pop a plug in.

“What the fuck? I must be ovulating because how did he make me this wet?…There’s so much, so much…”

After using a week's worth of toilet paper, you flush and head out. The nameless sex god was still present, adjusting his chain in the mirror.

You sigh in frustration, walking towards the sink furthest away from him. You can’t help but feel the nasty sting of regret from your sloppiness. He was by far the most attractive person you’ve seen in your entire life. You're sure any chance with him is out of the picture, all because of your cocktail-fueled actions. You're gutted. Although, it doesn’t hurt to look at him. Shit, if anything, it feels good to look at him, you thought.

Pressing the dispenser for soap, his reflection in the mirror is all you can focus on. Your mindless narration isn’t done; you still have thoughts that need to be spoken out loud.

“I just know that dick is crazy. I would’ve fucked the breaks off him.”

You hear the beautiful stranger snort.

"For what it’s worth, I’d rate your Portuguese pretty good for a foreigner." He says, this time in clear English, looking back at you in the mirror.

Your muscles tense up, and your breathing comes to a hitch. God, no…he understood English the entire time? What the fuck.

You can’t believe it. The possibility of him listening to every crazy thought you word vomited out was too much to process.

“And,” he walks over to you, nearing so close you were engulfed in his cologne and could feel heat radiating off his body, “I’d fuck the breaks off you too.”

An English accent drips off his words like honey. You're just about filled to the brim with surprises, but you’d let him fill you even more if it meant hearing that sexy accent moan your name.

“I didn’t mean to say that. I thought you didn’t speak English.”

He places his hand on the wall behind you and leans his face down to yours.

“I beg to differ. I think you did mean it.”

“It was an accident.”

“Right. I think I recall hearing, “How’d he get me so wet?” Was that also an accident?”

You swallow hard, feeling the pulse in your core pick back up.

“Acci-Yes. Accident.” You stutter.

His eyes wander down to your nether region.

“Well, I’d love to taste this accident.”

Fuck, he was smooth.

He retracts his hand from behind you with a fist of paper towels and dries his hands.

You're speechless. So much happened in a matter of seconds that you were lost for words, your mouth fell open but not a single word came out.

He laughs and leaves for the door, leaving you there standing in a state of shock. Your gaze shifts back to the mirror, your face was red and you were almost shaking of pure embarrassment. Before you could debrief and gather yourself, you hear his voice again.

“So, you coming or what?” He leans against the door with an awaiting look on his face.

You look around the bathroom to see who else he would be talking to. There was no one else in view, only you. He wanted you and he was making it obviously clear. You point towards your chest and mouth, “Me?”

“Who else, a namorada? (Sweetheart)”

Goddamnit. That's all you needed to hear.

You take no time to jump to the opportunity and follow the stranger out of the bathroom. He takes your hand which was twice the size of yours and leads you through the cramped crowd of the club. You didn’t bother to ask where he was taking you, you’d follow this man anywhere, anyday.

He guides you to a red VIP queue barrier and nods to the security guard.

“She’s with me. Also another girl.”

He scans the crowd behind you and points out Nia in the crowd to which the guard nods and heads in amongst the dancing bodies towards Nia’s direction.

He whispers in your ear, “Your sister, right?”

You smile. How sweet of him to remember Nia, you like that kind of consideration in a man.

“Sim (Yes), little sister. Thanks for inviting her too.”

His hand was still clasped with yours, he gently squeezed it and flashes you a wink.

You wave at Nia who was now following the guard towards the VIP area you were in, she waves back at you and starts giggling once she sees you with the sexy stranger from the bar. She knows your type, so she knows you’ll be glued to him all night.

You bring you attention back to him and he continue walking down a hall behind the section, and guides you to a room. It was empty besides the aisle of liquor on the wall and couches and seats. You let go of his hand and walked in the room, it was much more fancy and well decorated compared to the rest of the club.

“So what’s this room used for?”

“Depends on the occasion.”

“Is this a part of the package for the section you were in?”

“No.” He clicks the door locked.

You walk to the bar, eyeing down your drink of choice.

“So we’re stealing rooms tonight, are we?”

“My best mate owns the club. We can go to any room of your choosing. I just thought a pretty lady like yourself deserved the best one.”

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. He was charming, but there was something genuine about the way he spoke to you that made you feel special…and seen.

"Well, I appreciate the gesture. So what do you recommend we do in this fancy room of yours?"

"I can think of a few things," he murmurs.

Before you could grab yourself a glass, you feel his body near behind you. You were stuck between him and the bar and it felt amazing to be against his body.

Your heart races as he leans in closer. He clearly wanted you right now but you weren’t gonna give it up that easily, you already made it too well known how eager you were in the bathroom, it’s time to slow down this burn. His breath is hot against your ear.

"But first, let's have a drink. What can I get for you?"

He grabs the glass you were going for and digs into the ice bucket in the sink with it.

“Tequila. And let’s start with the basics...names. We don’t even know eachothers names.”

“I mean I was fine with callin’ you a minha rapariga.”

He grabs the bottle of 1800 on the top shelf.

“And that means?”

“My girl. But I’d love to put a name to your beautiful face”

You snort.

“Good one. It’s Y/K.”

“Y/K? Oh Y/K. I like the way that feels on my lips.”

He pours the 1800 into the glass, no mixer.

“And yours?”

He rotates your hips so you were now facing him, a smirk on his face.

“Alfie, my mates call me Al.”

He moves closer to you, his hand resting on the bar beside yours. "You know, I've been watching you all night," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And I have to say, I've never had anyone steal my attention like you."

Alfie pulls your hips closer to his and lifts the drink up to your lips to which you swallow. He doesn't pull away, he continues feeding you the alcohol until it was finished. You shiver at the sensation, feeling a rush of desire wash over you.

“All, all, all of it. Good girl.”

The alcohol burned your throat but you didn’t wince, there was something about him talking you through it that gave you all the motivation to stomach the tequila.

Alfie places the glass on the counter and leans in, his lips hovering just inches away from yours.

You feel his breath on your skin and your heart races in anticipation.

"Can I kiss you, Y/K?" he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You nod your head, unable to find your voice as your eyes lock onto his. With a gentle touch, he cups your face in his hands and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is fiery, sending a jolt of desire through your body as his tongue traces your lips, seeking entrance. You open your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss as he pulls you closer to him.

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts through your clothes. You moan softly into his mouth as he pulls away, his eyes dark with desire.

"God, you're so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do this all night to you" he murmurs, his hands trailing down your body to the hem of your dress. With a swift motion, he pulls it up and over your head, leaving you standing there in your underwear.

You blush at his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of him. But his eyes soften as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze tracing every curve and dip of your body.

"Perfect," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

He steps forward, his hands tracing the outline of your body as he presses his lips to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as he moves lower, his hands trailing down your sides to your hips.

He hooks his fingers into your underwear and pulls them down, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. You feel a rush of heat between your legs as he dips his head down, his tongue flicking over your clit, overwhelming you in waves of ecstasy.

Your back spans against the bar as you let out a cry of pleasure, your fingers going over his buzz cut hair while he continues to pleasure you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect unison, slurping on your clit and tugging on your g-spot in perfect movement. You feel your body start to tense, your orgasm building as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Alfie," you moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as you finally fall over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure.

He stands up, a satisfied grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you, sated and blissed out.

"Ready for round two, Bebê (Baby)?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, unable to resist the allure of this gorgeous stranger as he picks you up from the bench and places you on one of the couches, eager to explore every inch of your body.

You lean in, pressing your lips against his ear, "I want you to make me cream," you whisper.

He grins, "I can do that," he replies before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You can feel his hands sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every curve and dip. You moan into the kiss as his fingers, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands continue to explore your body. You feel his teeth graze against your skin and you let out a whimper, your body already tingling with pleasure.

He pulls back, a wicked grin on his face. "You like that, don't you?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

You can only nod, lost in a haze of desire and lust.

He leans in, his hot breath caressing your inner thigh before his tongue makes contact with your core. You gasp, your hands gripping onto the cushions as he begins to work his magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building inside of you. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, he stops.

You open your eyes, looking down at him with a pleading expression.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'm just getting started."

He stands up, his eyes locked on yours as he starts to undress. Slowly, he removes his shirt, revealing a toned chest and abs that make your mouth water, the way he’s built he definitely had to be an athlete, his arms were chiseled to perfection. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him, feeling a delicious anticipation building inside of you.

He climbs onto the couch, positioning himself above you as he leans in for another kiss. This time it's deeper, more urgent, and you can feel his need for you as his tongue takes over your mouth.

His hands roam over your body, teasing and caressing as he works his way down to your pussy, before positioning himself at your entrance.

He enters you slowly, his body pressing against yours as he begins to move in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can feel yourself building towards an explosive orgasm already.

“I’m already cumming!” You moan.

“I know baby, I know.” He groans while his eyes are closed shut, lost in the pure pleasure of your sex.

He picks up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more intense as you both reach the brink of release. And when you finally come undone, he's there to catch you, holding you tightly as you ride the waves of ecstasy, grinding against each other's bodies together.

When it's over, you lay there, panting and spent, wrapped in his arms. You look up at him, feeling a deep sense of connection and satisfaction that words could never fully describe. He leans back and looks down between you two, at the mess you made on his dick

"Look at that. That’s all for me, huh?" He says, a smirk spreading across his face.

You look away smiling, feeling vulnerable and whisper, “Yeah, only you.”

He chuckles, his hand stroking your hair. "I aim to please," he replies, a contented look on his face.

Just as Alfie leans back into your slit for round 2, there’s an abrupt knock at the door.

“Fuck!” you mutter under your breath, reaching for your panties and dress which was scattered across the floor.

Alfie stands up and fixes his pants which had a sight of hard pulsating wood. He quickly fixes it so it was tamed down before checking in with you.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yes, who’s at the door?” You say fixing up your shoulder straps.

Alfie walks to the door, unlocking it to find a security guard waiting.

“Estamos fechando quartos. Só verificando os quartos. Tudo bem Al? (We're closing rooms. Just checking. You all good Al?)” The security asks.

“Sim, estávamos prestes a sair. (Yeah, we was just about to leave.)” Alfie responds while motioning for you to come over to him.

You follow Alfie out the room back to the open space of the club to the VIP area which was filled with Alfie’s friends and Nia, who was busy chatting up with a boy on the couches. This girl was on fire! Well, who are you to be judging, you just got your cat demolished out by a man you just met.

As you walk towards the VIP area, you sit yourself down next to Nia.

“Girl, I know you didn’t just do what I think you did.” Nia says in your ear.

“What are you talking about? We just talked and drank.”

“Oh really?”

Nia catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile, “Babe. Your dress is on inside out.”

You feel a little embarrassed, but more so exhilarated at the thought of people knowing he gave you probably the best dick of your life.

“Oh my god. Okay you got me there!” You laugh off the awkwardness. Nia rubs your back, laughing too.

“It’s okay, we’ve all been there before.”

Alfie makes his way back over to you and introduces you to his friends, who all seem friendly and welcoming. They offer you drinks and chat with you about Carnival and asked questions about America. Most of them spoke English along with Portuguese which made it easy to connect with them, they were lovely and easy to get along with. But your mind keeps drifting back to the intense chemistry you shared with Alfie just a few moments ago.

As the night wears on, you find yourself getting more comfortable around Alfie's friends. They share stories and jokes, and you can't help but laugh and enjoy yourself. But every time Alfie touches you or leans in to whisper something in your ear, you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body.

Eventually, it's time for the club to close. Alfie offers to walk you out, and you gladly accept. As you exit the club, It was almost sun up outside and the nearby cafes and business’s were beginning to open for the day. He takes your hand and pulls you close. "I had a great time tonight," he says, looking deep into your eyes, “I hope to do this with you again sometime, a minha rapariga (My girl)”

"Me too," you reply, feeling your heart rate increase.

Alfie leans in and kisses you, and for a moment, it feels like the world fades away. It's just you and him, lost in each other's embrace amongst the rest of the noise. And as you break the kiss, Nia calls your name.

“Y/K, our ubers here!”

You pull to let go but he hesitates to release his grasp, squeezing your waist tight.

“I have to go…” You shyly say, pulling from his arms. Feeling giddy, you run to the car Nia hopped in and get in the back seat

“Get home safe.” He says, waving you down before throwing his hands in the air and yelling, “Wait, I didn’t even get your number! What’s your instagram?!”

You stick your head outside the window, “It’s Y/KsWorld!”, hoping he heard you. By the smile on his face, it seemed he did because he quickly pulls out his phone and tapped away. Not even 2 seconds later you felt a buzz on your lap and there was a notification: LewisAl88 followed you.

You fall back into the seat, smiling to yourself. You was exhausted and it wasn’t just from the jet-lag, he blew your back out into another time-zone himself. Sure it was just a hook up at the club, which is something you’ve never done before in your life, but you couldn’t deny the tension between the two of you.

You feel another buzz from your phone.

LewisAl88 sent you a message

When am I gonna see you next?

You laugh to yourself, here you thought you were the thirsty one yet he was just as keen to be all over you. Ahhh, that feels like balance to me, you thought.

“What’s got you smiling so hard?” Nia asks.

You show her the notifications on your phone screen, she covers her mouth and joins you in laughter.

“Oh he wants you…bad!”

You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile that creeps onto your face. "I don't know," you say, "I just met him. But there was definitely something there."

Nia nods, understanding. "Well, whatever happens, just be safe and have fun," she says, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze.

You nod, grateful for her words of encouragement. As the car drives away from the club, you lean back in your seat and close your eyes, replaying the night's events in your mind.

#Alfred Enoch smut #Alfie Enoch x Reader #Alfred Enoch x Reader #Alfred Enoch fanfiction #Alfred Enoch

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