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a-killer-obsession · 8 months ago

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Rage [Killer x Reader]

🔞 MINORS DNI ��

You lose control when your bestie almost falls victim to a creep.

CW: attempted rape via date rape drugs, graphic violence, gore, fluff, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, afab reader

WC: 5371

Masterlist || A03

Going out to the clubs was actually a rarity for you and the other female residents of the Victoria Punk . The Kid Pirates loved to party, of course, but the captain and commanders preferred pubs, and you usually had to go where they went. Kid didn't like his crew getting separated at night on unfamiliar islands, especially not his girls, he wanted them where he could see, and protect them. But every now and then, after the collective force of every girl on the ship whining and batting their eyelashes, he would give in and let the crew go to a dance club instead.

On this particular evening you found yourself grinding on the dancefloor with Quincy, your bestie on the crew, and the two of you had no issues touching each other and dancing provocatively to attract someone to spend the evening with, though truth be told the most ideal outcome would be if a certain first mate took notice and decided to take you home. It was unlikely though, Killer had never returned any of your flirtations, and whenever your eyes turned his way, you never caught him watching. No matter, plenty of other attractive men were out on the floor tonight, and plenty were watching your clear display with Quincy. The plan was in full force and you had no doubt you'd both be getting laid tonight.

The tempo of the song changed and you and your bestie decided it would be a good time for a quick rest and drink break. You'd both been on the floor for a fair while now, and you could really do with something to wet your lips. Quincy offered to grab drinks while you headed back to the table where the commanders sat, perching on the edge of the booth seat next to Heat so you could take off your heels and rub your sore feet for a moment. You didn't really need to rub them, sore feet from heels was something you were more than used to every time you went clubbing, but you were sat across from Killer, and at this angle as you bent over slightly, he had a clear view down the front of your low cut dress. His mask tilted down so slightly that you would have missed it, if the view hadn't been entirely on purpose. A little butterfly wiggled in your stomach at the small win, Killer was definitely checking out your tits, even if you couldn't see his eyes.

You looked back towards the bar to where Quincy was ordering drinks. The barkeeper had just placed two cocktails in front of her when a man slid up beside her and engaged in conversation. You smiled as you watched her laugh at something he said. He pointed to something behind her and she followed his finger, and as she looked away you watched his other hand move. It was subtle, but you saw it, there was no mistaking it.

“Son of a bitch,” you growled, shoving your heel back on and standing.

The commanders all looked at you expectantly as you began to march towards the bar. They all knew that walk, either you were about to shoot your shot with someone, or you were about to kick some ass. They all shot up and followed behind you, knowing full well that in this case, it was definitely the latter.

Quincy raised a drink to her mouth just as you approached, and you slapped it out of her hand, the delicate martini glass hitting the floor and shattering. She was about to protest when you grabbed the man beside her by the collar and shoved him against the bar. Quincy wasn't one for fighting, and quickly backed away, sensing something was amiss here. You would never just attack a man for no reason in the middle of a night out, not when she knew you were on the prowl for a lay. And you would never come between her and getting laid unless you had a very good reason.

“The fuck kind of piss ass slease needs to drug a girl to get with her, huh?” You spat at the man.

“No idea what you're talkin’ ‘bout, doll,” the man smiled, putting his hands up in mock defeat.

You reached into the pocket you'd seen him pull the drugs from and pulled out a bag of pills, waving it around for all to see. Nosey bystanders made a ‘ooooh’ sound and security began to close in. You looked at the closest guard, who had moved in to break up a fight, but seeing the baggy had now focused his attention on the man, a scolding fury written on his face.

“No worries babe, we'll take care of this cunt,” you told the security guard. They gave a quick nod and began to clear a path to the door, wanting the mess outside as quickly as possible. Heat and Wire quickly flanked the man, and you let go of his collar so they could drag him outside, but not before giving him a hard kick in the dick. He groaned in pain as they pulled him through the club doors, and you followed them out, anger bubbling and fists clenching in preparation. Quincy tried to follow, but you gave her one stern look and she knew better, retreating back to the safety of the other Kid Pirate women.

The commanders dragged the man to the alley down the side of the bar, and threw him hard against the wall. Killer moved to hit him, but you placed a firm hand against his chest. This was your fight, you wanted to do this. You needed to take your anger out on this man or it would fester, and fuck were you angry . Killer's mask tilted to look down at your hand, ready to argue with you, before Kid spoke up from behind.

“Let her have it Kil, this is her find,” Kid commanded. Killer took one look at Kid and gave an obedient nod, before stepping back to give you space. The men spread out around you and the stranger, ensuring he had nowhere to run.

Like a fool, he tried to run anyway, and you quickly made it clear he was going nowhere with a swift kick to the head. You may have been only a medium height, but you were agile, and strong, kicking his head was easy for you, even if he was taller than you. He went down quickly, clutching his head, and you followed with a hard kick to his stomach. He gagged, one hand moving from his head to his gut as he curled up in a protective ball.

You turned to your captain, your eyes flicking between his and the dagger strapped to his chest, asking silent permission. He handed it to you without a word, curious as to what you'd do with it. You had killed plenty of times, but you usually prefered a quick kill with a gun, you weren't keen on torture. He got the feeling though that this was different, it felt personal. You'd never insisted on killing someone yourself before, and he could see the way your eyes were dark with rage, your head twitching every so slightly whenever you looked at the man. He still wasn't entirely sure what you were mad about, but he couldn't care less, he was happy to lean against the wall and watch one of his girls kill.

You leant down next to the man, twisting your fingers through his hair and pulling hard, yanking his head up to force him to look at you. At the same time you pressed the tip of the dagger to his throat, just enough to pierce it a tiny amount, the threat of death made very real as a thin line of red ran down the man's front.

“What were your plans with my girl, huh?” You spat, “feed her your drugs, drag her away, maybe to this very spot, and rape her? Leave her broken and dying in this alleyway? Did you think she was all alone?”

The man whimpered as you pressed a foot against his groin, pressing the sharp heel of your shoe right against his dick. The men around you silently grimaced as you began to press harder, the stranger starting to cry out in pain as your shoe began to dig into his delicate parts.

“Pathetic little tiny dicked man,” you growled, pressing harder yet, “the only thing you're good for is dying”

You slid the dagger down his chest, cutting a long strip down his front, then you brought your foot up and kicked him back. His head slammed against the concrete wall with an audible crack as you stalked towards him. He tried to stand, groaning in pain, and you charged forward, jamming the dagger right into his stomach. Pinning him to the wall, he screamed and clawed at you as you twisted the blade, before pulling it out along with a small segment of his intestines. He grappled at his gut, and you dug the blade back in, higher this time, leaving it in his gut as you grabbed his wrists and pressed them against the wall behind him.

“Kid, pin this bug for me would you?” You asked sweetly. Kid compiled with a small chuckle, sending sharps of scrap metal from the alleyway straight through the man's hands, effectively nailing him to the wall. He screamed out, his hands beginning to bleed and tear as his legs started to give way underneath him, and his guts continued to spill out. You grabbed the blade that was still wedged in his gut, twisting it again for good measure before pulling it loose.

The man was writhing and screaming, on the edge of passing out from either blood loss or shock, whichever happened first, and you saw red as you realised you didn't have much longer to make him pay. Who knew how many girls he had hurt, how many Quincys hadn't had the good fortune of a friend looking at just the right moment, how many girls whose lives he had destroyed for the sake of an easy lay. Quincy was your best friend, you imagined finding her in the alleyway, unconscious and unclothed and beaten and used. You wanted to scream, cry, vomit, but most of all you wanted to kill.

“RAPIST CUNT! DIE!” you shrieked, charging back at him and stabbing over and over. You didn't bother to focus on where you were forcing your blade, sheathing it in any piece of his flesh that you could. His chest, his arms, his groin, even his face wasn't untouched. You blacked out, unleashing every ounce of fury you had pent up inside you on this man.

He was growing cold, long dead, and you continued to stab, his blood splattering all over the large amounts of skin you had exposed in your little black clubbing dress, your shoes starting to get slippery from the blood pooling inside them. You almost fell because of it, and two strong arms caught you, looping under your armpits and dragging you backwards as you fought against them, blade still in hand.

“Kid, she's out of control,” Killer spoke up from behind you, struggling to keep you steady as you slipped out of your heels and attempted to fight your way out of his grasp, still intent on burying your knife in the unrecognisable red mess of the stranger. Kid knew that bloodlust well, he had seen it in the mirror, but never on one of his girls. It startled him, and until Killer had spoken, he'd been in a haze, pride turning to concern as he watched you continue to work away at the corpse till you couldn't stand. Finally, snapped out of it, he used his devil fruit to pull the blade from your hand, receiving an almost inhuman growl from you in return. It sent a shiver down the spine of all four commanders, and drove home just how out of control you really were.

“Take her back to the ship, clean her up,” he told Killer, “Heat, stay with the girls, Wire help me get rid of this mess”

Killer swept you off your feet, in a way that would have been quite sexy if not for the fact that you were growling and hitting him, still trying to get at the dead man, and he began a quick march towards the ship. You saw Heat hurry back inside as Kid began to drag the body to the nearest dumpster, Wire holding the lid open for him as he threw the bloodied mess in, before Killer pulled around a corner and they were all out of sight.

The short walk back to the ship was a blur, and it wasn't until Killer placed you in the shower and turned the cold water on that you finally stopped fighting him, suddenly snapped out of your rage by the icy water pouring over your bare skin. You took in a sharp breath as the water prickled you, pressing your back against the wall of the shower in instinctual self defence and almost slipping in the process. Killer pinned you against the wall to keep you upright, his feet still outside the tub and his clothes getting drenched.

“Are you going to stop fighting me now?” He near growled.

You looked at where his eyes would be, coming back to reality far too quickly and realising all of a sudden what you had done. You had never been so violent in your life, you didn't know what had come over you. You grabbed the strong forearms that were either side of you as you felt your legs threaten to give out.

“I- I-” you stuttered, starting to hyperventilate.

“It's okay, I've got you,” he said, softer now. He guided your body down, letting you slide safely down the wall till you were sitting in the bathtub, and he switched the water to warm as you began to shiver. “I'm right here, I've got you” he cooed, almost a whisper, running a hand through your blood soaked hair so gently that anyone watching the exchange would mistake him for a lover.

“I don't know what happened,” you shivered.

“You were protecting Quincy,” he told you, “he was going to hurt her, you were right to be angry, I would have fucked him up just as bad. Hell, I was planning on bringing him back here, taking my time with him”

You stared at Killer's blank mask as you realised that, while extremely violent by your standards, he was right. You probably did the man a mercy by killing him so quickly, had Killer brought him back to the ship he would have tortured him for days. Maybe that would have been better, given what he'd done, what he was planning to do to Quincy. Maybe you did a bad thing, by stopping Killer. Selfish.

Killer saw the way your thoughts were beginning to spiral and curled a gentle finger under your chin, tilting your face back up. “Hey, don't let your mind play games with you, you did good, Kid was impressed, Quincy will be thankful, and who knows how many girls you've saved from a similar fate”

You sniffed a little as Killer leaned away, giving you space to compose yourself. Both of you were still fully clothed, drenched by the shower, and you were absolutely covered in blood. There were even bits of organs and skin stuck in your hair, you wanted to gag at the thought.

“This is disgusting,” you sighed as you pulled a piece of some unknown flesh out of your hair and flicked it towards the drain, “and my dress is fucking ruined” you pouted.

“It looked good while you had it, at least,” Killer remarked. You lit up, your eyes practically glittering at the compliment. It was the first time he'd ever said something nice about your appearance.

“Yeah? You liked it?” You pressed.

“Made your legs look real good,” he smirked behind the mask, knowing the little ego boost would help you out of your mood, “and I appreciated the view earlier” he would have winked if not for the mask. He stood and pulled his wet shirt over his head, revealing the tight muscles and the blonde trail of hair that ran down from his belly button and disappeared under the light blue sash he wore around his waist. He tossed it in a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom before grabbing a towel and dabbing at the exposed hair that had gotten wet. He watched the way you eyed him hungrily, biting your lip a little and tilting your head ever so slightly, so focused on his rarely seen bare chest that you didn't even notice the way he was showing off for you. It was an expertly planned distraction, you'd all but forgotten about your rage induced overkill as you watched a stray bead of water run down his front. You very nearly moaned watching it run over his muscles, and he stifled a laugh.

He finished drying his hair and flung the towel over his shoulder, before grabbing another clean towel and hanging it on a hook next to the shower for you. “Get yourself cleaned up,” he said as he turned to leave. You'd almost forgotten you were still sitting fully clothed, covered in blood, under the running water. “I'll find you something to wear,” he said as he left, closing the bathroom door behind him.

You let out a heavy sigh at his sudden exit before registering all of a sudden that you were in his bathroom. You'd never even been past the eave of his bedroom door before. You shot up, your eyes darting around the room as you took in every little detail. To be fair though, it was unbearably clean, barely anything to be nosey about. With a slight disappointed pout you began unzipping your dress, wringing it out slightly before throwing it to the laundry basket, along with your bra and underwear. You took the bobby pins out of your hair and left them along the side of the tub to retrieve later, along with your earrings, one of which was broken. You'd have to ask Kid very nicely to mend it for you later.

You let the water run over you freely to remove most of the blood from your skin and hair before finally turning to Killer's array of products, neatly lined up along an inset shelf next to the tub. No wonder his hair was always so nice, you couldn't think of any other man you'd ever met who used hair masks, and Killer had several to choose from. You opened and sniffed each product on the shelf carefully out of curiosity, before finally starting to wash your hair and skin. You would have liked to have used a hair mask, but you'd already spent more than enough time fucking around in Killer's bathroom.

Satisfied that your murderous rampage was entirely cleaned from your body, you turned off the shower and patted your hair with the towel, letting the rest of your body drip dry till you felt like your hair was dry enough. You wrapped the towel around yourself, drying off the last few rogue drips, before taking a deep breath and walking out to the bedroom.

You weren't sure what to expect from Killer's room. You had seen glimpses of it from the hall, but never the whole room. It was tidy, not many personal belongings out on show save for a few books and a small metal elephant that Kid had clearly made him. Even less expected was Killer himself, who was lazing on the bed reading, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants. Let me repeat that, nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants. Your eyes flicked between him and his mask, which sat neatly on his side table, as he turned to the next page of his book. You stood frozen in the doorframe, steam slowly escaping the bathroom behind you as you stared at Killer, his icy blue eyes moving side to side as he read.

“There's clothes for you on the dresser,” he said without looking up, like he wasn't casually unmasked for the first time in front of you, “my briefs are probably too big for you but it's better than nothing”

You took a quick look around the room, finding the dresser right beside you, an old band tee and boxer briefs sitting on top of the wooden drawers. ‘Fuck that’ you thought to yourself, marching confidently to the side of the bed. Killer finally looked up just in time to watch you drop your towel, a sly smirk spreading on his face. His lips, to your surprise, were painted purple. Now that you were closer you could see how sharp his features were, and the unseen portion of his scruffy goatee that was usually half hidden by his mask.

“I wondered how long it'd take you to finally cave,” he said coyly, returning to his book. You grabbed it and threw it across the room, climbing on to the bed and straddling him.

“Your mask isn't on,” you said plainly. You weren't sure if it was a question or a statement.

“Fuck, really?” He toyed, “I hadn't noticed”

Your playfulness suddenly wavered as you realised the gravity of the situation, sitting down on his thighs and looking at him more intensely.

“Your mask isn't on,” you said, softer. This time it was definitely a statement. His hands found your waist and his thumbs made small circles against your bare skin, leaving goosebumps and making you shiver.

“I know,” he replied, his voice gentle and quiet.

“Kil..” you almost whispered. Your hands came up and cupped his face, thumbs running over his cheeks as you held his face carefully like it was the most fragile thing on earth. “.. why?”

“I'm not sure myself, to be honest,” he replied, his eyes searching your face anxiously for any hint of rejection, but finding nothing but adoration, “it just felt like the right thing to do. Plus, this is my room,” he finished with a more playful tone and a small smile. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing his smile for the first time. Your eyes flicked between his eyes and his mouth, and his smile waived as he misread your expression as disliking his smile. He began to turn away, but you held his face steady, before finally closing the distance and pressing your mouth against his.

It was a soft kiss, experimental, you may have been entirely naked in his lap but you somehow felt insecure about whether he actually wanted you. The insecurities were quickly lost though when he returned the kiss, one of his hands travelling up your back to find your hair, holding you steady as he pressed back against you. You made a small moan in response, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, running his wet muscle against your own.

You raised yourself on your knees, hovering over him, to give yourself better purchase as his head tilted and your tongues fought against each other. The raised position opened you up to him, and he wasted no time sliding his other hand from your waist to your lower stomach, tracing down to your mound with an index finger. You moaned into his mouth as his hand ghosted across your slit, before finally sliding between your folds. He groaned as he found you already wet, and his fingers played with your silk before finally settling over your clit, circling it with his thumb. Your hips bucked as you tried to get more from him, and he took the hint, slipping a finger inside you and beginning a gentle movement.

You had to break from the kiss for air as he added a second, your hands running down his chest and your face pressing into the crook of his neck as he began curling his fingers and pumping you, his other hand holding to you steady against him as you whined. You made the occasional kiss and nip on his neck, hearing him grunt as you made little marks across his skin, and you whimpered as he added a third finger, stretching you out and targeting your g-spot. You fluttered around him as you climax rapidly built, moaning against his shoulder and leaving his skin damp from your hot breath as you panted.

“Let go [y/n], I can feel how close you are,” Killer purred, pumping you harder. Your legs shook and you were grateful for his support as you came hard, your release coating his fingers as he kissed and sucked on your neck, cooing praises. He guided you to sit back as he removed his fingers, keeping you upright with a strong arm around your waist as you sat against his thighs. Your pussy left wet patches against his sweatpants and you watched through half lidded eyes as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked your release off his fingers, an almost inaudible moan escaping you at the lewd sight.

“So sweet,” he purred, “such a good girl for me”

You whimpered at his praises and he helped you lay on your back beside him, rolling on top of you to settle between your legs, keeping his weight off you with an arm either side of your torso. “You're so beautiful underneath me like this,” he whispered, his face dipping down to run his nose over your clavicle, taking in your scent before running a tongue up your neck to your ear, where he nipped and tugged at the lobe. “I want to taste more of you,” he whispered, “can I have you?”

You could barely tilt your head to look at him, but you managed to catch his ocean eyes for a moment before capturing his lips again, pulling gently at his hair as he kissed back with equal feverish need. You pulled away, gasping for air. “Take whatever you want from me Kil,” you panted, “I'm yours”

A small lustful growl of appreciation was his reply, overly eager at your submissive response. It fueled his ego and he began making quick kisses down your body, trailing down your centre. He stopped for a short while to admire your breasts, and the way your chest was heaving from arousal, squeezing them and pressing his face between them. It was heaven on earth to be buried between them, but what he really wanted was to watch you writhe again, so he continued down till his face was between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open and making sure you weren't going anywhere, before running a fat stripe with his tongue between your folds. You whimpered and instinctively shied away, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but he held fast, keeping his mouth firmly on you. You felt the vibrations of his groans as he alternated between focusing on your bud and plunging his tongue inside you, your moans now flowing freely from you as he quickly brought you to a second climax.

He eagerly drank up your juices as you nearly crushed his head between your thighs, the lack of oxygen making him light headed but only adding to his arousal. When you finally released him he gave one last long stripe before sitting up, kneeling between your legs and running his hands up your body as he licked his lips.

“Fuck, Kil…” you panted, a forearm resting over your face as you came down from your second high. He gently took your arm and moved it away, hovering over you and looking at you intently.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, a small smile on your face. You spread your legs in a not so subtle hint, giving him the greenlight to continue.

“You sure?” He replied, his still clothed erection pressing against your centre. You moaned and rolled your hips against him, and his arms almost failed to hold his weight off you as he grunted.

“Please Kil,” you mewled, grinding against him again, “I need you inside me”

He moved faster than he would in battle to strip his pants and boxers, throwing them to the floor and settling back between your legs. The fat tip of his heavy cock rested against your pussy and you bit your bottom lip, looking down between your legs at his impressive size and wondering how you were going to fit all of him.

“I'll be gentle,” he near whispered, like he could read your mind, “just tell me if you want to stop”

You nodded eagerly and held his forearms, holding yourself slightly up so you could watch as he sunk his tip inside you. You immediately wavered in your strength, falling back against the mattress and moaning as he filled and stretched you. He let out a groan as he finally reached the base, pausing to enjoy the way your walls held him so tight before slowly pulling back out again. He started a slow, gentle rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back inside you, groaning softly every time he bottomed out.

Confident that he wouldn't hurt you, you rolled your hips to meet him, encouraging him to go faster. He happily obliged, increasing his pace bit by bit. Every time he settled in to a new speed, you would roll your hips and reach for him, beckoning him to move faster and harder till he was ruining you, fucking you hard in to the bed while you balled the sheets in your hands, screaming out in pleasure at every hard thrust.

He pulled your knees up, putting them over his shoulders and pulling your ass towards him, putting you in a mating press and somehow fucking you even deeper. You reached for him and your nails sunk into the muscles that covered his arms, leaving crescent shaped indents as you writhed underneath him. His rhythm became erratic and his panting in your ear grew heavy as he bent over you, his groans only spurring you on more as you hit your third orgasm quite suddenly, screaming his name and drawing blood as your nails finally broke skin. He swore and gave two final hard thrusts before stilling and throwing his head back, letting out a primal groan as he emptied himself inside you.

He slumped forward, releasing your legs from his shoulders and resting against your chest, both of you panting heavy and struggling for air. You ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you enjoyed his weight on top of you, his face against your shoulder and his cock still buried deep in you. Finally he rolled off of you, making you whine as he left you empty, but he pulled you with him, holding you close against his side so he could enjoy you without worrying about crushing you.

“You know,” you forced out between heavy breaths as you traced his muscles with a index finger and his thumb rubbed small circles on the small of your back, “if I'd known all it would take to get your attention was going ape shit on some creep, I would have gone on a violent rampage much sooner”

Killer huffed a silent laugh, his eyes shut as he laid on his back and enjoyed the feeling of your warm body pressed against his, “actually, it was the dancing that did it”

“No fucking way,” you smacked his bare chest playfully, “Emma didn't think it would work, HA!”

“It was very… provocative,” Killer hummed.

“That was the point,” you mused, raising yourself up to rest on your elbow so you could look at him, “you're very handsome, you know. The mask is sexy but this is a face carved by angels”

A clear blush spread across Killer's face before he quickly silenced you with kisses.

#killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction

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pepperstories · 5 months ago

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Emergency Contact | Joseph Quinn

Warnings: SMUT! MDNI! Don't suck cock and drive please. That is very dangerous and also against the law. This is pretty much a series. Booty Call Joe. Tasty morsel of a man that he is.

Word Count: 3384

NSFW! 18+

A photo shoot prop worth the joy ride. Joe drove a smidge above the speed limit and enjoyed the gust of wind rattling through the sports car. The photo shoot was a success. The suit was ridiculous, but worthy of the name and the exciting chill he felt through his scalp from the excess water made him feel alive.

That was until he got a text from you.

You weren’t far away. A hideout bar in the centre of London, drinking dirty martini’s with work colleagues after a gruelling, unforgiving day in your black suede heels he loved so much.

He pictures you in the almost see through white shirt. A peekaboo bra that threatened to reveal the secrets Victoria longed to keep. A grey or black pencil skirt that shaped and hugged you perfectly enough to seem professional but flattering to draw the attention from the eyes of those in the dark bar you currently sat.

It was casual. A hook up that was established long before his current limelight and claim to fame. A mere Tinder date that was successful enough to lay the ground rules to some of the best fucks he’s ever experienced without the need for chocolates, flowers and general validation.

But he cared for you. You spoke about past relationships and how it just didn’t fit around your lifestyle. You’re favourite Ramen flavours when you’ve had too much red wine to cook an actual meal. The books you have strategically placed around your apartment that threaten to fall each time he makes an impromptu thrust of his hips into your welcoming cunt.

You cared for him. His love for the theatre and the books he had gracing the walls of his single occupancy flat in the centre of London. His flourish of knowledge on Hollywood gossip you wouldn’t find in the gossip columns of magazines. And his expert technique of making you cum with a tightening of his fingers around your neck and a flick of his tongue on your clit.

It was an understanding between the both of you: Things were perfect just the way they were.

So as he drove at top speed, his destination a small, darkly light pub just shy of the Shard. Just past 1 am and he could feel his cock twitching at the prospect of fucking you in a vintage sport car. Too far from home to even attempt the chivalry of fucking you in a nice comfy bed after a long 8 hours, he needed you now.

The narrowing streets were enough to tell him that he was close. The one way system was a permanent tattoo in his brain from growing up near the City. The small enclosed lanes getting tighter and tighter as he neared the corner you said you would wait.

A flash. His headlights. They caught the silvery grey of your duster jacket and you checked your watch and adjusted your handbag. A slight tilt in your step which he believed to be the alcohol.

Smirking at your anxious and somewhat impatient rocking that you do when you’re horny, he pulled up swiftly. You stood where a space was available, how thoughtful.

Glancing into the car, your face was a slight tinge of red. An alcoholic flush that kept you warm but caused a shiver to run down your vertebrae. A sports car was just the icing on the ever growing arousal that kept you from calling it a night.

“You looking for a good time?” Was all you said before swinging the car door open.

———————

Cramped. That was the only word that came to mind as you lifted your leg over to straddle him. A small enclosed piece of land between zones was where he decided to park. Not conspicuous in the slightest, but added enough danger to the situation to make the event much more pleasurable.

“Could you have chosen a smaller car?” You breathed out. The smell of tangy lime and stiff alcohol on your breath as it puffed into his face. He could only laugh at himself. He thought you would find this sexy.

“I thought I would impress you?” You scoffed slightly, manoeuvring the lace of your underwear down your leg and chucking it onto your bag in the back seat. His obnoxious zipper catching the inside of your thigh.

“You don’t have to impress me. You do that enough already.” It was flirting. A slight blush rising from his neck as he pulled you into a kiss. Both of your hands threading into the near dry curls on his head. He moved his hands from the dip on your back to between you. Unfastening the belt and trousers he had put on in a rush this morning. Not exactly the easiest combo for this soirée.

You settled on neck, just below his earlobe, where he liked it. His head dipping down every so often to see the progress of getting the trousers off his waist. A frustrated grunt here and there as he struggled with the angle. Too conscious of the fact that you were already a mere inch from a concussion should you jerk up suddenly.

“Fuck! I thought this would be hot as fuck.” His frustrated outburst was enough for you to sigh. His attempts at removing his pants were unsuccessful unless you stepped out of the car. Not ideal should a passing motorist or God forbid, a police car, should pass you.

“Why don’t we just go back to mines?” You suggested. More for the fact that your unforgiving hangover tomorrow will be better settled in your own bed. A walk of shame was not on the cards this weekend.

“I have an early shoot tomorrow. I also need to bring this car back.” His grimace was enough to tell you that this wasn’t going to happen tonight. Kissing his lips, you settled yourself back over into the passenger seat. The cool air settling between your legs as your sat back.

“It’s fine. Could you take me back into town? I can get a cab.” There was a hint of a smile. Enough to tell him that you were disappointed but not angry. Adjusting his seat and trousers. He nodded, pulling the seatbelt over his shoulder and starting the engine.

——————

City lights were the best part of going into London. Illuminating the skyline with hues of the colour wheel. It reflected on your tired face as he drove through the still busy streets of London. His cock still twitching in his trousers, he adjusted and readjusted too many times for it not to go unnoticed.

Tilting your head round to him, you looked around the busy streets and glanced into the rear view mirror. No sign of flashing blue lights or an impatient motorist tailing too close behind.

Adjusting yourself in the seat, you simply advised to keep driving, eyes forward and don’t be too obvious. Unsure of the command, he simply nodded and set his gaze forward, focusing on the crude rusted metal of the Vauxhall Corsa in front of him.

Ripping away the buttons and zipper on his trousers, you pulled his cock free from his boxers. The soft pale flush of skin a dull comparison to the angry red tip. You weren’t completely settled on the idea of getting him off and leaving the small motor without at least some relief. Although he was driving through London city, your focus was on the task at hand. A tight squeeze of your fingers around the base of his cock, you pulled the soft foreskin down enough to reveal his leaking tip and the pulsing skin of his frenulum. All and all, he was fit to burst.

You sensed him raising his hand above the crown of your head and then settle back on the wheel multiple times. His concentrations wearying as you hollowed out your mouth and slide down the full length of him. Tongue flat against his soft under side of his cock, you bobbled and sucked. You done it within an inch of your life. You didn’t tease, you didn’t force yourself down. This was for his pleasure and you needed him to cum.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me wreck.” His eyes were rolling on their own accord. His hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. No red lights, no busying traffic, he found himself driving towards the Burroughs where you lived. Without setting your sights on the location, you hummed and moaned against him. His stomach tensing, his body rolling forward at the sensation. The tip of your tongue tracing the sensible vein that ran alongside his shaft.

Although you were no amateur to fallacio, your attention to detail haltered slightly when he seemed to get harder and larger in your mouth. Realising that his anatomy was so finely tuned to the need your body had.

“I’m going to cum. Fuck, hold it there.” He spread the palm of his hand out across the base of your skull, thrusting slightly up into your gaped oral cavity and causing the stream of saliva to drool out of your mouth and on to his smart grey trousers. The strategically placed uvula that dangles at the back of your throat now coated in his spent, he done his usual thing: grunt, gasp and heavy breath between his chapped lips.

Cleaning off the rest of him, you suctioned off his cock with an obscene pop, looking up at him as you done so. The beautiful scarlet red of his lip stuck between the pearly whites. Lifting yourself back into you seat, you realised he had stopped. The dimly lit street was familiar and you gave him a confused lift of your eyebrow.

“I thought you had to give the car back?” Your tone was teasing but serious.

“They know where to find me.” Was all he said before pulling your crinkled shirt in his hands and pulling you over the handbrake for an open mouthed kiss. His hands sliding into your hair where your skull meets your spine. Fingers splayed and massaging the tense muscle. Sliding your tongue into his mouth, you felt his wandering free hand skim up the fabric of your work skirt and feeling the hold ups underneath. Pulling away from the kiss, he looks straight into your glazed eyes and kneed the seam of the lace hidden so carefully underneath.

“They’re your favourite.”

——————

It wasn’t a matter of how quick he could get you up the stairs, but if he could restrain himself enough to get you in bed. With a turn of the key, he bundles you up from behind and slams you against the nearest wall. Your face smooshed into the wallpaper and he pulls your jacket from behind and tosses it into your flat. His arms rounding you to pull apart the shirt he loved so much. All the while, he whispered filth into your ear. Sucking on the delicate lobe, he asked how wet you were, imagining the pressing and tightening of your thighs all night as you waited for him. How he was going to fuck you against this wall because there was no way he could walk the 20 paces into your bedroom.

He pulls the shirt off your shoulders, letting the garment hang around your skirt where it was tucked. The soft skin on your shoulder a reddish hue from your bra strap as he pulled it off to place wet opened mouthed kisses to it. Your panting and wanting was only urging him forward in his mission. Thumbing both nipples over your bra as you pushed your arse against him. His kisses roamed your cervical spine, placing soft pecks to the inter-vertebral discs as he watched you relax further into his touch. Reaching the middle of your back, he replaces his mouth with his fingers, rubbing two fingers underneath the clasp of your pretty bra and using his thumb to pull free. You whipped it off before he could and turned in his arms as he took to his knees in front of you.

He had no words. Your eyes a drunken, sexual glaze. Your neck hollowed from the deep gasping breaths you were taking and your perfect tits sloped and pert just for him. He decided he wasn’t going to take the skirt off at that very moment. Tilting his head to at you, he places both hands on each ankle. Running his hands up the velvety soft material of your light stockings and pushing up the impossibly tight pencil skirt. The fabric releasing it’s grasp of your full thighs and wide hips and nestled just below your bellybutton.

Nothing. You were bare to him. The V-Shaped valley of your cunt in perfect view. The modest little wax job you had since the last time you saw him left a tuff of curly hair that rested just above your clit. The rest was the perfectly smooth and hair free skin he couldn’t wait to taste. Your puffy lips rippling with anticipation as he leans forward to place a kiss on your pubic bone.

Pulling a leg over his shoulder, he licks a long thick stripe from your hole to your clit. A shaking breath coming from you and pushing your splayed fingers through his soft curls. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he flicks at a quick pace and marvelled in the mewling sounds you make from above. Gripping his hair tighter and moving your leg higher for him, he latches on harder and licks faster. His lower half holding up your sliding weight as you arch off the wall.

You weren’t sure what to feel in the moments leading up, but your body was buzzing with pleasurable electricity. His tongue grounding you with his fast and hard licks. His soft tight curls in between your clammy fingers. You gasped and tightened as he suctioned your clit between his lips. Suddenly he stood, grabbing your soft cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. Lifting your leg around his waist as he began to grind his hips into your soft cunt. The perfect hard friction you needed to cum loudly into his mouth.

He was surprised at your quick finish. Your shaking leg against his hip as your cunt pulsed against his clothed cock. It was enough for him to pull away from the kiss, unbuckle his belt and feel then slid down his legs. Taking your other leg, he pulls you up against the wall and forces you to wrap and hold your weight against his hips.

Gasping into his open mouth, he shifted his weight back and held you with one arm. The adrenaline from what was about to happen giving him the strength to hold your entire weight against him. Doing his signature move, licking a thick saliva filled strip down his hand and looking you straight in the eye as he done it, he pumped his cock straight into you.

It was the fullest you ever felt and it told you a lot about what was happening. The head of his cock striking your cervix straight on as he pushed straight in. The feeling of his cock still a stranger to your being as he moaned into your mouth. He settled into you before he began his thrusts. It was hard and true as he fuck you straight into the wallpaper. The slick feeling of his cock causing you to moan and pant into his mouth as he licked at your top lip each thrust he done.

A slick sound in the air of your small apartment as the headlights from the passing car gave you a glimpse of his thrusting cock into your wet hole.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Was all he said as he thrust up into the spongy interior of your cunt. Your legs becoming somewhat numb from the position you had adopted. Words were hard to form in that moment. Biting back a sense of reality to relish in the continuous stokes he was giving you. It was a sense of passion you had never felt before. Warm brown eyes staring straight into yours. Forget about corporate mergers, Excel spreadsheets with broken coding, too tight a skirt and dirty martini's with colleagues you hardly knew. This is where you wanted to be.

It wasn't long before your breathe hitched. His mocking gasp in your face and the smirk highlighting the crinkle cut laughter lines on his face as he brought you closer. The stamina of his hips meeting yours. The angle he had you placed was striking that pink wet wall at the base of your cervix. Enough pain to produce pleasure and enough pleasure to dull the pain.

"I'm gonna cum, keep fucking going." You didn't recognise your own voice. Whether it was the alcohol in your system or the fucked out A-lister pounding his way into your womb, your voice sounded miles away.

"Wasn't going to. Never will." He grunted. A squeeze of your arse cheek and a hike of your leg pushed you further up the wall but him closer to your breast bone. The shlick of sweat gathering between the valley of your breasts was no match for Joe's skilled tongue laying flat and gliding up the column of your neck.

The creamy base of his cock pulled strings of moisture up to your clit, the friction being enough to pull a haunting groan from your lips. Something Joe was quick to pick up on.

"Right there? This where you need me?" He moved impossibly hard now. Deep thrusts that were wet and plentiful. He felt it before you, the pulsing ripple of your cunt swallowing him whole. No award. No character he played ever made him feel like this. Never made him work so hard to please. It was all you.

"Fuck!" He felt you jolt as it took you higher. A soaring wave that made your fingernails bite into his shoulders, your head fall against the wall and his cock to sputter inside you.

"Where do you want me, love? Hm? Inside? You want me to cum inside and fill you up?" His thrusts were calculated now. The aftermath of your orgasm tittering out as you thrashed and pinched your eyebrows at him. You almost looked savage as you growled and rolled your hips to meet his.

"Inside. Fuck, cum inside me." You said through gritted teeth. A manic, desperate look in your eyes. Just looking at you was enough. He felt himself slipping and sliding inside your cunt. His hands holding the majority of your bouncing weight as he felt his cock slide against your public bone. It made him possessed.

Howling into your neck, he came with three striking thrusts. You didn't think you could get any further up the wall until he proved you wrong with his finish. Heaving, wet breathes into your neck, he grounded his feet below up and held you close.

"Too hot. Too much. Too fucking good." Was all you thought as Joe rubbed his forehead into your breasts. His heavy breathing sweeping over the lace of your bra and cooling your damp sweat slick skin. Pulling his head up to look at you, you searched for something. A weaver of doubt. An inking of regret. Instead, you saw a stillness. A familiar relaxed lull in his eyes that made you feel safe. It was intoxicating.

"We're far too good at that." Was all he laughed out as he sighed against your neck. Soft little pecks to your jugular and needing hands on your thighs. "Hmm, I bet you never spoke about this in your interview's" A little snarky but witty, he softly bit the taunt skin of your chin making you yelp as he pulled out and slide you down his body until your toes touched the ground. He held you firmly against the wall still, tippy toes just allowing you the height for him to kiss you soundly and passionately on the lips. A thank you.

"Wait." You mumbled against his lips, his dark chocolate eyes opening again to look at you. A cute little head tilt thrown into the bargain. "How do they know the car is here?" A raised eyebrow was enough to make him bite his lip. Anticipation building as he pondered the right response. "You're my emergency contact."

#joseph quinn #Smut #Joe Quinn #Red Car Smut #pepperstories #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader

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dailyflicks · 10 months ago

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VICTORIA PEDRETTI as Dylan in FALL RISK 2024 — dir. Alex Martini

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mixxedthoughts · 11 months ago

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victoria pedretti and caitlin stasey in the short movie "fall risk" (2024) directed by alex martini

#photo #victoria pedretti #caitlin stasey #fall risk #i'm not ready for this movie #wlw romance

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tasxcha · 10 months ago

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Shut up! No one touch me! Fall Risk movie trailer is officially out! OMFGAAAAAAWD!

I can't even begin to put into words how obsessed I am with this already! Dylan played by Victoria Pedretti is everything! Just these clips have me madly in love and feeling for her! I am unwell!

youtube

Oh the fanfiction I am going to write for Dylan!

On the realest note, how incredible is it that Alex Martini has made this film about a true story in her life? I think it's so amazing she is making a film about something not a lot of people even know about multiple sclerosis is rare but incredible life altering and I want to see more films like this. The main characters are all women and the plot is juicy! This film is going to alter my brain chemistry!

#victoria pedretti #fall risk movie #alex martini #fall risk #wlw #lesbian films #queer films #multiple sclerosis #real ass plot based on a true story #we need more queer films that are real as fuck #Youtube

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pjisskullourful · 6 months ago

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𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

⏰Damiano × reader

part 27 [series masterpost]

NSFW🚨 nasty shit, the word nut makes an appearance in a way that has nothing to do with food

° Damiano David/female reader insert ✨ cameos by Victoria De Angelis, Ethan Torchio & Thomas Raggi

wordcount:: 13,492

° wonderfully requested by the wonderful @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic 💋 i’m imagining stained sheets!damiano backstage at a må show with the reader [...] the point is !!time limit!! and damiano says to the reader “you’ve got about four minutes, kitty. either you cum now or you don’t get to at all later,” whilst fingering her. a delicious idea to spend time on! thankyou!!

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

° none of the lyrics included belong to me!

Australia may have been the furthest you had ever been from home. You had some vacation days saved up at work, cashing them in to join this part of the world tour. The flight had felt torturously long, but it had been worth it. You and Damiano had taken the touristy photos with koalas, kangaroos and other native animals. You had even gotten some time at the beach, feeling just how warm it could get here.

But it wasn't just about sightseeing and going to vintage clothing stores. Your boyfriend was busy, there were sell-out concerts he had to deliver at.

You had spent an extra stretch of time in bed at your Sydney hotel room, staying asleep while he left for sound check. At dinner last night, you had enjoyed a few too many cocktails with the distinctive name Porn Star Martini. When you didn't have work to worry about the following day, and you had a tour company paying for everything, you found it nearly impossible to not indulge. There were photos of you ruddy-cheeked and pulling down the V-neck of your dress to attest to this. There had even been a part of the night where you had tried to wear Damiano's shirt with him, your heads poking out of the same hole, bodies smushed together.

You were awake by the time he came back to the hotel to collect you. You were dressed and sitting on the floor, in front of a mirror to apply your makeup. You sipped on an iced coffee, getting yourself ready for all the excitement that (still) came from attending a show.

He had been pacing around the room behind you, talking about nothing in particular for a while. Before he paused and seemed to become focused. “I should shower, but should I have a cigarette before or after?”

You scoffed sarcastically. “There's never just one ‘after shower' cigarette with you. You're gonna have a bunch tonight, regardless of when you take a shower.”

“It's part of my artistic process.” He said and you laughed with more sarcasm. “Certainly you're not questioning my artistic process, are you?”

“Oh, most assuredly not. I was just thinking about my artistic process, this makeup doesn't just apply itself. And part of my process is to be given pet bunnies, so many of them.” You said.

He rolled his eyes. “Right, bunnies.”

“Are you questioning my artistic process?” You asked.

“No, no, no.” He said as he crouched down next to you, your eyes meeting in the reflection. “But I do have a question about your process…”

“Mm-hmm, which is?”

His eyes left the mirror, now looking at the side of your face. “At what stage of your process do you get in the shower with me?”

“Alright, I've just powdered on top of my concealer, so… um, never. There is no space in my process for that.” You said, continuing on with your makeup.

“Babe…”

“I’m already doing my makeup, getting it all washed off in the shower now would be such a waste. And I wanna look good for tonight, for you.” You tried to reason with him.

He rested his head on your shoulder, exaggerating disappointment. “But I'm gonna be naked in there.”

“You'll be naked out here, too.” You said. “I know what I'm giving up, and I'm at peace with it.”

He sighed then dropped the dramatic act. “Okay, I don’t understand your decision, but I’ll respect it.” He raised his head, looking at you as he pouted both lips out. You accepted this silent invitation, turning your head so you could kiss him quickly. After this he stood up and you went back to your makeup.

He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, which slowed him down in the process of removing his clothes. He picked up his phone, tapping at the screen as he pushed his pants down with one hand. You kept your mouth shut against any teasing or sarcastic comments, trying to not become another distraction.

“... should sing that Jet song in the shower, I still don’t think I’ve got the lyrics one hundred percent.” He said of the cover track that was a region-exclusive of the show’s running order.

“That’s a good idea.”

He nodded decisively and looked up to orientate himself toward the suite’s bathroom. “Yep, sound check just for you.”

With the door shut and the water running, his voice didn’t come through very clearly. As you sculpted your eyebrows into the shape you wanted, you couldn’t pick out any of the words he was singing. And you didn’t know the Australian rock song well enough that you could recognise the tempo - you just assumed that he was singing it correctly.

Until he finished in the shower and opened the door, letting you hear each word as he sang it. It was a song you had heard more than once last night, not because he would be performing it tonight. But because Ethan had gotten it stuck in his head.

“Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama…” He wasn’t singing with all of the power his voice box held. “Get up on the floor and move your booty, mama…”

“Still?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to where he was towelling his naked body off. “It’s still stuck in your head?”

He nodded as he kept his spot in the Black Eyed Peas song. “We the blast mast’as…”

The old track had been brought up during dinner last night. A song in the restaurant’s playlist had reminded Ethan of it, but he hadn’t been able to remember its name. Almost everyone sitting around the large table had tried to help him in the task of recalling the title. The easiest place to begin was with the lyrics, but all he could remember was a moment of Fergie singing ‘la-la la-la-la’.

It hadn’t been a quick process of elimination, but eventually the desired result was reached: Hey Mama, it had been a top ten hit.

But not everyone was sure they had heard it. So Ethan went up to the bar, seeing if it could be played soon. When the staff had confirmed it, he thanked and tipped them.

You hadn’t recognised the party song. Victoria knew it and remembered how short Fergie’s skirt had been in the accompanying music video.

There had been some humorous misunderstandings of lyrics. So Ethan had gone back, asking them to play it again, allowing him and a couple of the others to check what they heard against what the online results said.

“I heard it three times last night, what do you expect?” Damiano asked.

The third play had come as your party were preparing to leave the restaurant, the staff doing this of their own volition. One of the team’s assistants, Gianna, had pointed out that this could have been prompted by the fact that tipping wasn’t commonplace in Australia. Ethan providing money with his request may have been a big deal to the staff, prompting them to be more generous with the amount of plays.

Damiano had been sporadically singing snippets of the song to you in the time since the restaurant. But now it seemed that he planned to sing more than just a few lines. And you couldn’t help getting distracted by it. There was a smile on your face as you lowered the small brush, giving more attention to this impromptu, naked show.

He saw you watching and put some more purpose into his movements. This was only a fraction of the energy he would charm the audience with tonight - but it was more than enough to keep you engaged. He had begun smiling, too.

He jumped to be side-on to you, showing you how he matched the swinging of his hips to the next lyric. “...to shake your bum-bum-ah. Come on now, mama.”

You shook your head a little. “I believe that the lyric was actually bam-bam-a.”

“And what the Hell is that?” He asked. “I’m going to sing it my way, which means I’m singing about bum. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking a corner down to keep it in place for the time being. With his shoulders, he did a little shimmy as he took some measured steps around the end of the bed, getting closer to you.

“We the blast mast’as…” He sang. He held your eye in the reflection as some exaggerated swinging of his hips accompanied the steps that delivered him to the space behind you. “...blastin’ up the jamm’a.”

He pointed one finger directly down at you and luckily you knew what he wanted, not embarrassing yourself. You sang at about half the volume he had been singing at. “La-la la-la-la.”

He wasn’t entirely still, making you think that the song continued to play in his mind. “I definitely did not learn the verses.” You laughed to yourself as you picked up your powder, ready to set the work you had done on your brows. “But there’s another part I do know…”

You were trying to not give him so much encouragement. You couldn’t stand the thought of being part of the reason for him not running on time for the show. As much as you were entertained by him, you wouldn’t let the priorities get muddled up. You dipped your brush into the powder, your eyes beginning to travel away from him for brief moments.

His dramatic pause ended with him raising both arms above his head. “The pre-chorus.”

He put his hands together, reaching over to the right. At the same time he jutted his left hip even further out to this side. As he started to sing again, he alternated from side-to-side, his movements fast and well-coordinated. From what you could recall of the beat, he was matching it.

“Now y’all know, who we are. Y’all know, we the stars…”

His next energetic movement made you forget about pressing more powder over the dark colours of your brow. He performed a smooth body-roll to the right. At the same time he lowered one of his hands, licking the tips of his fingers. This was then swiped down and across his nipple, keeping the smile firmly on your face.

“How we rockin’ it, girl. Without bodyguards…”

Before he could reach the next chorus, you were working more consistently on your makeup. You noticed him gathering up the bottom of the towel, but you didn’t try to anticipate what he would do next, just picking up your eyeshadow primer instead.

You got the applicator out of the component, but you didn’t have the chance to touch it to your skin. Things got suddenly darker and you felt something soft pressing against your face, thanks to him throwing part of the towel (which was still attached to him) over your head.

“...dance to the drummer.”

“Damiano.” You snapped, automatically looking up. When this didn’t give you much, you started reaching for the white towel. “Goddamnit…”

“What?” He asked, acting at being oblivious. “Is this not part of your process?”

You were aware of the back of your hand brushing against his cock. But you didn’t let this distract you from your goal of getting free of the towel. You yanked the soft fabric away from your face, stripping it from him in the process.

“Can’t you hold your chaos in until I've finished my makeup?” You asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror again. “Then I’ll play and we can fool around to your heart’s content.”

He picked the towel up, slinging it over his shoulder without a shred of modesty. “I don’t really know why you’re bothering, you’re just going to sweat all of that off before the end of the night.”

You scoffed. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Okay, I was actually referring to the temperature.” He said.

“When are you going to learn to believe in the magic of setting spray?” You asked.

“We could see about sweating it off another way, if you would like, babe.” He said, beginning to run his fingers through your hair.

“Oh yeah, that song just seduced me so much.” You said sarcastically, dabbing the primer onto your eyelids one at a time.

The change in his smile was only subtle, but you had seen it enough to recognise it.

“Can we have a little play right now?” He asked. “I’ll let you finish your makeup, I promise. But I’m feeling like maybe some special Daddy-kitten time is part of my process tonight.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by this proposal (maybe you should have been expecting it since his request to get you in the shower). You had been too drunk upon returning to the hotel last night, sex hadn’t been any kind of option.

You tilted your phone to check the time, not letting yourself give in very much yet. “Won’t that make us late? I don’t want to delay everyone else’s night. You act like it’s nothing, but I know it stresses you out when you run behind for stuff as important as this.” He listened to you, not waiting to butt in. “I’m just trying to be responsible and help out future-Damiano.”

“You’re a good girl. But we don’t have to be late. If we don’t do a whole production, we can meet everyone as soon as the car arrives.” He said, still playing with your hair.

You noticed how he neglected to mention any further time allocated to you doing your makeup. But his determination was so compelling, how could you stand up to that? And did you even want to?

“Do you promise that we won’t be late for the car?” You asked, picking up the bottle of setting spray, instead of going for the eyeshadow palette you had already selected.

He continued to gently play with your hair. “I promise you.”

“I need you to promise that we will stop when time runs out. No matter what part we’re up to, it will be over straight away.” You said.

“Of course I promise, one hundred percent.” He said. But he would have looked more serious in this vow if he could get that smile properly off of his face.

“I think I’m going to need to hear you swear to it.” You said, considering his expression in the reflection. You briefly shut your eyes, applying some of the preserving mist over your eyebrows, which had maintained their shape through the towel attack. “Swear on not accidentally fucking your leg up again.”

This ripped the smile off of his lips. His jaw fell open at the mention of his injury the previous year, which had not only been painful, but had messed with some of his work responsibilities for a while.

“You would wish something like that on me again? That’s cold, babygirl.” He said. But his put-on surprise didn’t result in him getting turned off, his eyes remained on his prize.

“I’m not wishing it on you.” You defended. “I just need you to swear on something serious.”

“Okay, I swear it. Can you suck my dick now?”

“Is that what you want?” You asked.

“Uh-huh.” He said, his smile getting wider now. “I figure I should take advantage of the fact that you didn’t get up to the putting on lipstick part of your process.”

You began to turn around, keeping your eyes up and on his face, even though your own face was immediately lined up with his hardening cock. “You can’t just destroy the makeup on my face. Please let me look a bit presentable. We can get feral later tonight.”

“Feral? I’m gonna hold you to that.” He said.

Your eyes left his face and you considered something of a mental catalogue before making first contact with his cock.

You could see that he wasn’t fully hard yet. So you worked at changing that, applying your tongue to the side of his length with long strokes. He let out a deep exhale and you positioned yourself comfortably on your knees, a stance that could be maintained as you were prepared to somewhat lose track of time too.

You let your eyes flutter shut and tilted your head, your tongue getting closer to his balls as you kept moving consistently. You put your hands to his thighs and you could feel him getting tenser against your tongue, the skin getting tighter.

You progressed until your mouth could reach his sac. You swirled your tongue around one of his balls, spreading your saliva even further. You swirled your tongue around the other and his hand returned to your head, appreciatively stroking your hair.

You pulled yourself back as an immediately enticing idea came to your mind. “Were you planning to wear shorts for the show, or…?”

It took him a moment to figure out how to respond, his brow furrowed. “Actually I haven’t properly decided yet. I picked a few different options and they’re at the, uh, venue already. But no, I don’t know for sure which I’ll wear. There is an option with shorts, but I really haven’t made my mind up yet. Why?”

“I’m feeling kinda into the idea of scratching your legs a bit.” You said, running your hands up-and-down his thighs. “Nothing too vicious, just something that would feel good for you.” He had started to smile. “And then you and me would have a sexy secret. Under your pants you would have some little kitty claw marks. It seems hot to me, but you-...”

“No, no, it is hot.” He rushed to tell you. “Do it, and I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You began to drag your nails up his bare skin, not trying to leave any marks yet, just wanting him to feel what you were prepared to use on him.

With nothing left to say, you wrapped your lips around his head. You slowly ran your fingernails up-and-down his legs. At the same time you moved your lips further down his length. You didn’t hesitate to take in as much of him as possible, rubbing your tongue on his underside as you took him deeper.

You kept your mouth set in place around him, a firm seal that could certainly get tighter. You heard his nonsense sputtering as you deeply inhaled through your nose.

Then you plunged down further, adrenaline pulsing through you as you took his head into your throat. You sucked your cheeks in, earning eager whines from him.

You had definitely stopped thinking about time, now you were just experiencing his pleasure through him. And you were planning how to unlock more of it. You treasured how his fingers stroked through your hair, to the sounds of his increasing moans.

You challenged your gag reflex for just a second. Then you eased yourself back, your nails truly scraping him in their continuous voyage now. You moved them a little faster up-and-down his thighs, copying the tempo you adopted to suck his cock with.

He twitched where he stood, his whimpers starting to coordinate with how you concluded each stroke with him hitting the back of your throat. You worked your lips back-and-forth, making sure he wasn’t far from your throat for long. His shaft was getting slicker, the movements coming so much easier.

You plunged yourself all the way down, getting him nestled into your throat. It contracted as you held him there. But you didn’t back off and you could feel how he throbbed in response. He was so hot and so heavy against your flattened tongue.

“I hope you don’t think that I’m not noticing how you’re trying to rush me.” He said, his fingers twisting around some of your strands of hair.

It was true that you weren’t giving him the kind of prolonged treatment that he may have been expecting. You didn’t typically take him into your throat so soon. You had bypassed the time you would dedicate to working him up.

“But your throat feels too good for me to care about correcting your behaviour.” He added, giving your pride a boost.

You tried to not move too vigorously, bobbing your head just a little, while keeping him mostly in your throat. You gave him some friction and he whimpered, clearly pleased by this small effort.

You held off from giving in to your need to draw a breath for as long as you could manage. But essentially it had to be done, you pulled back until your mouth was empty.

You let your hands still, holding onto his thighs as you gave all of your energy to refilling your lungs. You started to notice the details around you again. Your heart was racing and you recognised that his legs now bore some thin red lines.

“Oh, you’ve got so much drool on your chin now.” He said and you tilted your head back, giving him a better view of your face. You had been aware of the moisture building up on your chin before his comment. “Truly, it looks like it’s about to drip.”

You could have wiped some of it off with the back of your hand, or there was a box of tissues closeby. Instead you licked your lips.

“Oh, you like getting messy for Daddy, huh? You’ve made me all messy too.” He said. He put his hand to the back of your neck, the other wrapping around his wet cock. “I’m already leaking precum.”

On his tip you could see some thick and milky drops of his essence, begging to be used. And you couldn’t ignore it.

You put your mouth to his pink head, giving it a kiss and you were soon feeling the consistency of his cum on your lips. Then you parted them and took just his tip into your mouth. He held his shaft steady as you rubbed your tongue all over the tip, massaging as you cleaned him. The primal taste filled your mouth as you planned a couple of steps ahead how to draw more from him.

His fingers clasped harder on your neck as you continued to work your tongue.

“Babygirl, that’s so good. Clean me up just like that. Clean me up before we-...”

His explicit thought went unshared. The atmosphere in the room instantly changed in response to an authoritative knock on the door. He froze and you promptly yanked your lips off of him, your eyes looking over to the locked door.

“Hey guys, we’ve been trying to call you.” It was Belle’s voice, a member of the touring team. “The car is leaving for the venue in about five minutes. And we kinda need you to be in it. We could organise a second car, but…”

“We’ll be there.” Damiano called back, adopting the composed tone of voice he needed. “She’s just lacing her shoes up now and I wanna roll a smoke for the ride. We’ll meet you at the parking lot door in a few minutes. We won’t miss it, promise.”

“Okay. See you down there.” She sounded convinced.

His hand was still holding tight to the back of your neck, you thought it might keep you from getting to your feet. You grabbed one of the tissues, wiping your chin as you looked at your surroundings. Your thoughts were rushing as you tried to plan at least five steps ahead, trying to figure out how you could quickly get yourself ready.

“Okay, just put me back in your throat real quick.” He instructed and you could feel the subtle pull on your neck. “I’m super close, it’s only gonna take a couple of minutes.”

“What? Damiano, no.” You said firmly.

He let go of your neck, a slightly hurt look coming onto his face. “Really? ‘Cause I can feel how close I am.” You took the chance to stand up, gathering some of your makeup supplies as you went. “I’m sure that all I need is another minute in your throat, then I can nut and we’ll go.” You moved beyond his grasp, rushing over to where you had already packed your handbag. “I’m one hundred percent sure that it’ll take just one minute.”

You shoved your makeup and phone into the bag, swiftly progressing to snatching up the dress you had pre-selected to wear. “You need that minute to put some fucking clothes on.”

“They’re right here, I…” He collected the clothes he had been wearing when out for sound check. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, yes. I don’t wanna be late.” You said, shoving your feet into a pair of shoes. “I’m not letting that car leave without us.”

“It’s not gonna leave before…” He trailed off with a sigh. As you put a piece of gum in your mouth, you thought you had never been so pleased by the sight of him pulling clothes on. “I can’t believe that you’re really gonna make me put my aching cock and balls into these pants.” He covered his scratched legs with the faded denim. “Rather than just helping your daddy out.”

“You promised.” You said, wiping both your hands, chin, neck and chest with more tissues.

“Yeah, I did, but-”

“And I don’t need to hear your insider's secret about how a five minute warning actually means ten. We will have time later for me to absolutely drain your balls.” You said.

He finished getting dressed, putting shoes on and picking up a jacket. The weather meant that he didn’t need to wear it, instead he carried it in front of himself, disguising the bulge that his boner created in his pants. It was already less noticeable now and you were sure it would be gone by the time you got to the car.

Once in the elevator, you rushed to slather your lips in dark lipstick, hoping this would make you look more put together than you actually were. Then you raked your fingers through your hair, trying to get rid of its dishevelled appearance. You used the mirror mounted on the rear wall to guide you before you caught Damiano watching you in it.

“I’ll make it up to you.” You said.

“I know you will. I’m sorry that I got kinda pushy after your no.” He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You turned around but you weren’t entirely distracted by the doors sliding open now that you were at your destination. “I genuinely didn’t notice.”

You shouldered your bag and accepted his offered hand as you left the elevator. He walked with his head tilted slightly down, but no strangers bothered him as he led to the lesser-used exit.

You didn’t know exactly how long it had been since Belle had knocked on your door. But it had felt like it had taken a long time for you to get out of the room.

You were relieved by the sight of the van, with Belle lingering at its side. With two of the side doors remaining open, it didn’t look like it was on the verge of leaving the garage. You didn’t doubt that Damiano had a ‘told you so’ ready to share with you. But you didn’t look at him to give him the chance to say it, just getting into the van to find a seat.

He paused to provide an excuse to Belle. “She forgot to take her phone off silent after her nap, and I left mine in the bathroom. I’m sorry we missed your calls, we weren’t trying to.”

“It’s totally fine.”

You sat down on the right-hand side, leaving room next to Ethan for Damiano. In the row in front of you were Victoria and her girlfriend. You noticed amongst the other occupied seats that Thomas wasn’t present.

As soon as Damiano had sat down, you pushed your handbag into his lap, on top of the ‘just in case’ jacket. “You hold this while I do my eyeshadow.” You pulled out a palette and a brush.

Victoria turned around with a swish of blonde hair. “Are you still doing your makeup, how much did you oversleep?”

“Are you roasting my girlfriend right now?” He asked, protectively putting a hand on your knee.

But you understood where her words were coming from, and they had little to no effect on you. You were distracted by needing to come up with a cover story for you and your boyfriend. “Only ‘cause I’m always roasting myself. I could easily take four hours to do my makeup, and a professional could do the exact same thing on her in about forty minutes.”

“But you need time to break for cups of tea.” He said.

“I would never diss her, that’s my sister.” She said, it wasn’t the first time she had shared this sentiment.

You had looking into the palette’s mirror as an excuse to not make eye contact with the others as you began to deliver your lie. “I got distracted from finishing. We were watching other Black Eyed Peas music videos.”

“You still have that song stuck in your head?” Ethan asked Damiano.

“Yep, and thanks a million for that.” He said sarcastically.

“They have way more songs than I first realised.” Ethan said and you were pleased by how your cover story had given him a tangent that would distract from you entirely. Using your fingertips, you swiped a pink glitter pigment across each eyelid. “I thought they had that one really big era where they were literally everywhere. But they were everywhere for a long time.”

“Yeah, across multiple albums.” Damiano said as you were using a brush to buff out the sparkly pigment.

You heard Thomas’ pained yell before you saw him. The exaggerated shout got louder as he was running closer to the van. It broke up, becoming the word sorry over-and-over.

“I lost my lighter.” He offered the explanation as Belle shepherded him into the vehicle. “I thought it would take five seconds to find. But nope.”

He all but collapsed into an available seat. Belle and another member of the crew took their seats, then the driver was given the instruction to go.

Nobody brought their attention back to what you and Damiano had been doing in your room. You worked quickly to add a darker colour to the outer corner of your eyelid. You noticed that the jacket had shifted from his lap, but looking at the crotch of his pants you saw there was no hint of a suspicious bulge.

“Can I do Ethan’s makeup?” He asked you as the car navigated through Sydney’s traffic.

“Of course you can, darling.” You said.

*** *** ***

“Maybe you don’t actually need all of that time you give yourself to do your makeup. You had to rush it, but I think that you look very pretty, kitty.” Damiano said, coming over to stand with you now that he was free of the hands of people helping him get ready for the concert. He leaned against the same wall as you, focusing entirely on you, as if the rest of the green room (and the excited fans beyond it) didn’t exist. “You look great. I would even go so far as to say that you look delicious.”

You blushed under the intensity of his gaze. He hadn’t warmed up to it, just coming in with very flattering words straight away. It was more than you had been ready for, but it was exactly what you needed to hear. You hadn’t felt brave enough to try applying eyeliner to your upper lid in a moving car (the pauses from traffic definitely weren’t long enough, or predictable enough) and without it you hadn’t been feeling your prettiest. You felt like the look was incomplete, your makeup not bold enough.

But he thought your appearance was worth complimenting, something he wanted to stare at. Maybe doubting yourself had been a waste of time.

“Thank you.” You said, easily sliding your hand into his as you moved in closer. “And you as well: definitely delicious.”

He struck a playful pose at that - pushing his shoulders back and placing a hand daintily under his upturned chin. He pouted his lips a little, there was no denying that he had started to get into character for the stage. It was the lead-up to that part of the night where you had to share your boyfriend with the audience. It always impressed you how he could select which parts of himself to highlight, only bringing his most entertaining side forward.

And the audience was going to love him for it, because you loved him for it. This exaggerated, extroverted version of the man you lived with every day was still so sexy to you. You could feel the freedom as he left his doubts, insecurities and worries behind. The extra cheekiness was entertaining to you for the brief window of time that it existed.

“Serving delicious.” He said. “Look, somebody has to do it.”

You cupped his freshly-shaven cheek. “It must be such a burden.”

“It is.” He said, indulging in this dramatic display for a moment longer. “I’m not gonna lie to you kitty, it’s a big burden.” You laughed together, going back to normal. “Are you gonna have fun tonight, gonna behave yourself?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Of course, I will be working. I am a professional.” He said, seeming to be working to keep himself sounding as serious as possible.

Meanwhile, you had begun to smirk. “Yeah, a professional slut. I’ve seen how you work before.”

His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. This set you off giggling, feeling pleased with yourself.

Then his expression changed - his mouth forming a frown as he narrowed his eyes, going for an intimidating look as he leaned in closer. He stuck his pointer finger into the air between your faces. You had stopped laughing, but you continued to smile.

“You should be careful with what you say to me, babygirl. ‘Cause you’re already due for some of my payback after pulling the plug on that blowjob. Don’t make it worse for yourself.” He said in a lower voice than before.

You didn’t act worried because you didn’t feel it, despite the look in his eyes. You also didn’t feel any need to stop. So you put your lips up to his finger and once they were touching, you blew a raspberry.

You counted it as a victory when he groaned and yanked his finger away. He wore a displeased expression and he chose to wipe the moisture off on your dress.

“A-yo, Damiano.” Thomas called out, putting an instant pause on this stand-off. “You wanna run through the song? Make sure we’ve got it one hundred.”

“Yep.” Damiano yelled back. Before going over to the guitarist, he looked at you, giving you some stern parting words. “This isn’t over.”

He started to walk away and you chipperly sang out after him. “Okay.”

He kept going across the floor of this main room of the backstage area. He went over to the lounges where Thomas was sitting, an acoustic guitar propped in his lap. This was when Damiano started to appear truly professional.

You had no responsibilities to worry about, going over to the table where a generous spread of different foods had been laid out. You picked up a few of the crispy-looking spring rolls before going over to where the duo were practising, sheet music laid out before them. You perched yourself on the armrest of the sofa.

“Brig black boots…” Damiano sang before screwing his face up and Thomas stopped playing for the moment. “Wait, let me do that again.”

He adjusted his hands to their previous hold and played the same notes again. He and Damiano were tapping their toes to the same, unheard tempo - holding the music in their heads better than you could ever hope to.

Damiano waited for the right moment, giving the pre-chorus another try. “Blick black blu-... what?” Thomas patiently stopped playing again and Damiano leaned forward, getting a closer look at the lyrics. “It’s all those buh sounds real close together. I can’t wrap my fucking mouth around it.”

“You’ve got it, man.” Thomas said. “You did it last night, you know you’ll have it tonight.”

Damiano stared at the English words, saying them quietly to himself. “Big black boots, big black boots, big black boots…” He cleared his throat and looked up, trying to sing the words now. “Brick bla-... what?” You eased yourself off of the armrest, scooching in closer to him.

“You could sing that Black Eyed Peas song perfectly the whole drive in here.” Thomas said. “But these are the words that are tripping you up?”

You gently got Damiano’s attention by resting your hand on his knee. “I think the issue is that you’re thinking about the sounds of the original and you’re trying to recreate that when you’re singing. But what you should be singing are each of those words, separately, as their own topic.”

“That sounds right.” He said. “I’ve gotta get the words unmuddled in my mind.”

You picked up the paper. “Let me help. Okay, what are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, the words not coming naturally as he tried to over enunciate every syllable.

“So, they’re small, right?” You asked, playing dumb.

“No, they’re big.” He corrected.

“Uh-huh, big flip-flop-kinda shoes, aren’t they?” You prompted.

“Boots, it’s a pair of big boots.”

“Oh. What colour were they again?”

“Black.”

“What are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, he didn’t stumble over any of the words and he was sounding more conversational.

“I was picturing little pink shoes.” Thomas said, his hands poised in position to resume playing the song.

Damiano was smiling as he turned to him. “No, they’re definitely big black boots.”

“Huh, what are they?” You asked and Thomas played a single chord.

“Big black boots.” Damiano said.

Thomas played more chords, it sounded like the part of the song they had been practising earlier. “What are they?”

This time Damiano sang his response. “Big black boots, long brown hair…” He began tapping out the beat on your knee. “She’s so sweet with her-”

“-get-back stare.” Thomas joined in, continuing to play even as he returned to talking. “Keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Damiano said before transitioning faultlessly into the chorus. “Well I could see you home with me…”

As he continued to sing, you followed along on the page. He didn’t stumble nor did he need the page back from you, he was confident in preparing for the stage again. It was a relief to hear and you began to bob your head to the rhythm of Thomas’ guitar. Damiano wasn’t singing with the full power of his voice but you could hear how much more comfortable he sounded.

“Are you gonna be my girl?” He cut the last word off, not giving the note its full moment. “And so on.”

“That sounded great.” You said.

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to run it again.” Thomas said.

“Me either.”

Damiano leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, hugging his body to yours as you enjoyed the sight of a smile on his face. You gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, baby.” He said.

“She knows how your mind works, man. Good luck trying to outsmart her.” Thomas said, taking the guitar out of his lap. “But I wouldn’t exactly hold my breath waiting for the day when you outsmart someone.”

Damiano retaliated by kicking his leg out, striking Thomas’ shin with his foot. Thomas stood up, moving out of the range of possible other attacks. But he didn’t immediately walk away.

“Have you considered quitting your job so you can come with us on the road and be his emotional support person?” He asked, you weren’t sure how much he was kidding. “You know how to calm him down and help him prep for a show. He’s always in a better mood when you’re around, which is definitely none of my business.”

“He needs emotional support with how much you guys bully him.” You joked.

Thomas got distracted, looking around at the reliable backstage staff for guidance. “Do I have time for another Red Bull?”

Gianna was there, nodding after she checked her watch. “Yes and there’s plenty of it left.”

They walked away and you just got to enjoy the fact that this cuddle with your boyfriend wasn’t on the verge of ending.

But you couldn’t totally forget about what this room was so close to. “Do you ever worry when you’re sticking the microphone in people’s faces during Kool Kids that they’re gonna say something nasty?” He repositioned how he laid his head so he could look up at you. “Let’s not downplay that your horny rock attracts a horny audience. I’ve seen the kinds of signs that they bring to shows.”

He smiled as he didn’t disagree with you. “Well what could they say? They don’t get more than two seconds.”

“I don’t know. I just know that I won’t be surprised if one night fuck me gets sang, instead of the lyrics.” You said, making him laugh. “It’s the same amount of syllables.”

He gave your knee a pat. “Just ‘cause you can’t control yourself, babygirl.”

You rolled your eyes, a clever comeback failing to come to mind. “Do you want me to throw my bra at you? It could help you with getting into the right headspace for the gig.” You had never thrown items of clothing when attending any kind of concert. But you couldn’t say for sure that you wouldn’t get pulled into that type of fun, especially if the receiving performer played it up as much as Damiano did.

“Because I’ll do it.” You said, showing him how serious you could be.

He sat up so he could turn around and look at you properly. “I want to know what you would say. I’m on stage, I put the microphone in your face and you get two syllables- what are you gonna say?”

You didn’t already have something in mind. And thinking about it now, the answer didn’t immediately come to you. Because if you tried to picture yourself in his scenario all that you felt was intimidated. The nature of his onstage persona was very intimidating, for the duration of an entire concert. The man he embodied for a profession made you feel even more shy than you had at the start of your relationship.

Even the thought of being faced with that version of him was enough to make you blush and you answered him in a quiet voice. “Meow, meow. I would do the entire song as a kitten.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughed a little. “Oh really? And how might that go?”

You paused to look around, checking how close everyone else was. You were the only two sitting on the sofa, it didn’t seem like anyone was in listening distance.

You began your nonsense meow-singing softly. His smile grew and he rhythmically slapped his palm on his knee, providing you with the beat of his song.

You weren’t trying to sing well, your only goal was to sing quietly because you didn’t want anyone around you to hear. Judging by the look on his face, you thought he would probably enjoy it if you got louder. He loved it when you got proud about the fact that you were a kitten (his kitten). But what he loved even more was when you got embarrassed and started to squirm, showing nerves.

You were relieved when he didn’t try to get you into that state of vulnerability right now. You paused to take a breath and he applauded your effort, giving you the sign to stop - all without any of the other people backstage seeming to notice.

“Incredible.” He said. He put his hands on your cheeks so he could pull you in for a kiss. “That was so fucking great. Do you want to go out and do the whole set for me with those amazing meows?”

You gave his shoulder a playful shove. “No chance in Hell.”

“You’re so great. Well, when you’re behaving.” He said.

You could have tried to defend yourself that you only vexed him as a way to motivate him. It was done to inspire his punishments, which you both enjoyed. But this didn’t seem like the right time or place to get into that discussion.

He spoke to fill your silence. “When I go out on stage, I want you to go into my dressing room and stay there for the entire show.”

“What?” You asked, thinking about all of the socialising you were going to miss out on - the people that he worked with were far more interesting than the majority of your co-workers.

“Yep, you’re gonna keep the door shut and work on being the best behaved girl in the world, for as long as I’m gone.” He said, a stern look in his eyes as he stared you down.

You furrowed your brow, wondering how rude this would make you seem to everyone else. You liked when everything felt united among the band, team and travelling loved ones. You didn’t want to contribute to any form of division, that was important to you.

“Why?” You asked.

He leaned in and produced an invisible muzzle with his next sentence. “‘Cause Daddy says so.”

Your defiance was shattered in an instant because his approval was above and beyond more important for you than anything else.

*** *** ***

It was strange being this close to the concert without getting to experience much of it at all.

You had been looking forward to watching from the side of the stage. There was a lot to be seen from that vantage point and you liked comparing the things you noticed to what Damiano saw and remembered.

Instead you only had four unchanging walls to look at (eight if you counted the attached bathroom). The music was loud and powerful enough to rattle some of the fixtures, but it was a muffled listening experience. You needed the setlist taped to the makeup mirror to help you keep track of which song they were up to. You couldn’t distinguish any of the words when he was singing Are You Gonna Be My Girl. You had to trust the audience’s reaction that it had gone perfectly.

With nothing else to do, you mentally chewed over what he had said. While you didn’t agree that stopping the blowjob early was misbehaving (you still held to your reasoning that you had done it for his benefit). You did agree that your overall behaviour could be improved, you wanted to be the best girl for him, always.

After sharing a few messages with Max (you told her that you were certain her future husband lived on this continent), you sat down and got to a task just for Damiano. From his backpack, you had pulled out his tobacco pouch and supply of rolling papers.

One after another you packed and rolled cigarettes for him. Smoking had never turned into a habit for you - you were sooner to forget a cigarette lit for you than finish it. But you had seen Damiano roll so many that you could easily copy his steps. You knew exactly how he liked them, you could work to get them perfect for him.

Even though he wouldn’t be able to smoke any immediately (Australia’s laws were quite strict), it would save him some time. You thought (and hoped) that your unprompted providing of this convenience to help would win you some of his favour. It certainly seemed like the kind of thing a good girl would do.

It had been a little over an hour since he had left you for the stage, when you noticed a closeby speaking voice that distinguished itself from the murmurs of everyone else that had been going on for most of the show. You sat up straighter on the sofa, trying to pick out what Damiano was saying. Everything was underscored by Ethan and Thomas continuing to play, their instruments were still blasting out the outro of Kool Kids.

“-should be done in the bathroom in plenty of time, but give the door a good pounding when it’s about two minutes to the encore.” You could hear what Damiano was saying now, his voice definitely nearer to the other side of the door. “I can make that run back to the stage in less than two minutes, don’t you think?” He laughed and you saw the door-handle begin to move. “Thanks Belle.”

You were starting to get up as he opened the door, coming into the room unaccompanied. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect.” He said, giving you no reason to doubt him. “I just need you to stand here with your back against the door.”

You completed the action without thinking to question it. You were too distracted by taking in the sight of him - alive with unpredictable energy, sweaty and without the shirt he had been wearing to begin the concert. You were expecting him to promptly disappear into the bathroom, taking some seconds of privacy before going back to give his all for the last two songs. You couldn’t think of any other reason why he would have needed to come in here.

But he wasn’t going for that door. He picked up one of the provided towels to dab himself down as he faced you, not grabbing for a drink or anything else laid out for his convenience.

“Everyone sang the right words for Kool Kids?” You asked, eyebrows raising as he brought his knees down to the floor. “Nobody got cheeky?”

“The only cheeky one is you.” He said and he flicked up the skirt of your dress, keeping it raised with one hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, surprised but not about to resist something so enticing.

“I’m going to see how good you can be at keeping to a time limit when it’s your pleasure at risk of interruption.” He said and he moved the crotch of your underwear to the side, just exposing your cunt instead of going to the bother of taking the lingerie down.

Your heart was racing now and you had forgotten to keep track of whether Thomas’ guitar solo was still going or not. “What?”

He dragged his fingers up your labia, his eyes switching between looking at your face and your cunt. “Yep, you’ve got about six minutes, kitty.” You moved your thighs apart as he continued to rub you, his hand delivering more pressure than you were used to in this early stage of teasing. “So, either you come right now, before Belle knocks on that door because they need me for the encore. Or you don’t get to come at all later.”

“Cazzo…” It was all that you could manage to say, because you knew that you didn’t want to tell him no. You didn’t know much else, your mind was in such a scramble as you struggled to catch up to him on this completely unexpected page.

He knew how to interpret your lack of no. And he adjusted his hand, poising his fingers then swiftly ramming them inside of you. Two at once - you couldn’t help squeezing your eyes shut, surrendering before you had been prepared to. He didn’t wait to start working his fingers within you and you tensely bit into your bottom lip, determined that no one would hear.

He attached his mouth to your clitoris and the pleasure rushed you like a wave, infusing adrenaline into your system. You grabbed for his short blonde hair, trying to help brace yourself. You may not have been ready for this, but there was no denying how spectacular it felt.

He was rushing you, as you had been accused of doing. But maybe it wasn’t rushing for him. It was sexy to think that he may have had this on his mind for some of the show. Had he been building this up as he sang for the audience? The way he had been acting since coming into the room seemed to support this theory, he simply couldn’t hold it back any longer.

You started to experience powerful twitches through your body as he curled his fingers between your walls. He was aiming for your sweet spot while his tongue tirelessly lapped at your clitoris, playing with all of the sensitivities here.

“Daddy…” You choked out, ready to lose yourself completely. “This can’t be payback. Because payback is a bitch, but this feels too damn good.”

His strong and confident thrusting came in at a relentless page. Your heart was thundering in your ears, making it next to impossible to notice anything else.

You hadn’t been trying to keep track of the time. But you were sure that you would hit that climax before he was whisked away. You weren’t worried about it not happening. With this aggressive campaign against your composure, your worry lie in disappointing him by coming too fast.

His lips left your clitoral hood in the interest of speaking, but there were still some strokes from his tongue to savour. “Did you get all worked up when you were sucking me off, toy? Did it make you wet? Did servicing me make you want to come?”

He wasn’t projecting his voice very much, willing to keep the secret the same as you. Underscoring his words were the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet excitement from your pussy as it accepted his fingers deep with each stroke.

He pushed his tongue against your clit before posing his next question. “Maybe you had been wishing that we were sixty-nine-ing so that you could enjoy my mouth as I was enjoying yours?”

The obvious answer that he wanted wasn’t clear in your dizzyingly aroused mind. So you just tried your best to please him. “We can, we can sixty-nine all fuckin’ night. I would love to do that for you, Master.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hummed against the hood of your clit, making your throat momentarily clench. “I bet you fuckin’ would.”

He plunged his fingers all the way into you and your knees felt like they were turning to useless jelly. This feeling only accelerated when he placed his other index finger to your clit. You fought back the cry that wanted to erupt out of your chest in response.

The way he manipulated the hood was driving you wild. It was bordering on more than you could handle as he sought out a new way to tease you with his lips on your thighs. He kissed and sucked both of your inner-thighs, alternating between them with unfailing vigour.

His fingers pressing into your g-spot again-and-again was bringing the pleasure to a brilliant height. With it so ready to overwhelm you, it was easily blocking out your awareness of time passing. It felt like your entire body was reeling, keeping you from thinking or caring about anything. Maintaining the schedule of the gig wasn’t your responsibility right now, anyway.

He grabbed some of your thigh fat with his teeth then clenched his jaw. This made you squeak - he still had exciting surprises in store for you. You clasped a hand over your lips, now that you were so close to falling apart you truly didn’t trust yourself to keep quiet.

“Are you gonna come, babygirl?” He asked before he nipped and bit at your other thigh. “I don’t know if you’ve got much time left.”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined into the palm of your hand. “Close.”

“Aw, keen little kitten can’t wait to come, huh?”

You nodded, helplessly breathless as he kept biting all over your thigh.

Your excitement for the release drove you to start moving your hips. It was wonderful the way that every needy pump intensified his massage of your clitoris.

“You’re gonna write lines for me once I go.” He said. “You’ve got a pad and paper in your bag, right?” You nodded. “Good, that’s going to help you learn this lesson. You’re going to write it is my job to make Daddy cum. And you’re going to write it as many times as you can while I’m finishing the show. I will decide when we get back to the hotel if you’ve written enough or if you need to do more, okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined, unwilling to open your mouth for even a second. You feared all of the loud noises that could escape if you did.

Your muscles all clenched and you gave an unintentional jerk into him. To the feeling of him dragging his teeth down your inner-thigh, you felt your orgasm dawning on you. You gave yourself over to the release at once.

He continued to stroke his fingers between your spasming walls, keeping you at this incredible height. The relief flooded through you as you grabbed his shoulder.

“Yes, that’s a good girl. You came nice and fast for me. I guess I won’t just be edging you until the sun comes up, huh?” He said, making you smile. He took his fingers out of you and ceased playing with your throbbing clit. “I think you’ve left me with enough time to give my hands a proper wash. Wow, great work.”

Not needing any time to recover like you, he immediately got up and went to the bathroom. You remained pressed to the door, not because he had told you to, but because you needed it to support you. You lowered yourself a little, your knees still unsteady.

“Holy fuck, Damiano.” You gasped, struggling to know how you would come down from this. You would need the two songs of the encore to remember how to act normally. “That was so much.”

He was wearing a smug smile as he came out of the bathroom. “But was it too much?”

“A bit.” You said, willing strength back into your legs.

“Do you remember what lines I want you to write?” He asked.

You readjusted your underwear and skirt. “Uh-huh. It is my-”

“Two minutes.” Belle’s voice accompanied her powerful knocks on the door. “Time to start running, my friend.”

He was immediately alerted, striding over and grabbing you by the biceps. He gave you a kiss as he moved you out of the way of the door. “See you in a second, love you.”

“I love you too.” You responded at once.

But you couldn’t be sure that he had heard it. Because as you spoke he had opened the door, letting the impatient roar of the audience come through louder. He disappeared in a flash, the door swinging shut behind him.

You loved the idea of lying down on the sofa and feeling the effects of your orgasm fade out to the sounds of I Wanna Be Your Slave.

But you resisted and kept yourself upright once you were on the lounge. You collected your handbag, unzipping it as you finally caught your breath. The little notebook that you kept on hand was in its usual pocket and you found a pen amongst the other items inside.

You started to write, feeling less frazzled with each line. You listened to this muffled version of The Loneliest, keeping your pen constantly moving.

*** *** ***

You were alone inside the hotel room for the moment. You covered more of the white pages in the sentence you had been told, without distraction while Damiano was out on the balcony. He was further winding down after the show with one of the cigarettes you had made for him.

But it wasn’t time to fade out of this day. This night was just starting and you didn’t know what he had planned for these free hours, just that it wasn’t going to include sleep for a while.

You set your intention for the hours ahead with every word that you wrote. It is my job to make Daddy cum. He had sent you straight to the desk as soon as you had gotten back to the suite, not giving you any time to change your clothes. While he had promptly stripped out of the sweaty outfit he had been wearing for hours, you were still in your dress, still in the underwear that he had made very wet.

You didn’t look up when you heard the door sliding open, you remained facing the wall. You gained the scent of his cigarette as he walked nearer. You heard the thud of him dropping his phone onto the sofa.

“It is still so warm out there. It’s the middle of the night and not even a single goosebump. It’s so great.” He said. “If we lived here I could just be naked all of the time.”

“Well that’s all the convincing I need.” You said, making him laugh.

He stood behind you, his hands going to the chair’s backrest as he leaned down. The temptation to look at him was strong, but you obediently kept writing. Rather than simply reading over your shoulder, he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“How are those lines coming along?” He asked.

-my job to make Daddy cum, you finished off another sentence. “I’ve done lots for you, would you like to see?”

“Yeah, let me see if you need to write more or not.” He said.

You flicked back to the page you had started on, then passed it over. He thanked you as he straightened up. It seemed like a good sign that this exercise was over when he asked you to sit with him at the bed.

But you weren’t to sit on the mattress with him. You sat on the floor by his feet, silently watching as he checked over your work. It wasn’t as simple as him flicking through the quantity of pages, he looked at every single one. You wondered if he was looking for errors, words scribbled over.

As he seemingly read, you let your eyes wander, checking his legs for signs of your scratches. You could pick out a couple of long lines that were red, it didn’t look like you had broken through any deeper than the top layer of skin. There were some shorter red lines that you had managed to leave behind too, scattered across the expanse of his thighs. They weren’t placed in a uniform way, testifying to the frenetic energy he brought out of you.

You compared these to the revenge he had inflicted on your thighs. The inside of each thigh was splotchy, not as bright as it had been in the immediate aftermath. But the random pink patches (each of them about half the size of your fist) that could be seen hinted that you could be wearing this damage for a while longer. His bites might leave you with bruising and you looked forward to repeatedly viewing them.

“It looks like you’ve learnt your lesson.” He said as his eyes moved down the final page, which you had gotten about three-quarters full.

You looked up at him, nodding, no longer feeling the need to express your conditions to challenge his rule. “I have.”

“I know that you were just trying to be responsible, and that’s a really great trait to have.” He said. “I don’t need you to change. But for right now I think you should make something else your responsibility…”

“Cock?”

“Cock, that’s right.” He said.

You changed how you were sitting, coming up a little higher as you moved onto your knees. “Do you want my mouth again? I can finish what I started.”

He caressed your cheek, the notebook now placed aside so all of his attention could go to you. “I’m sure that would be really fun, but what I feel like is fucking.”

“How would you like me, Master?” You asked.

“First things first: get naked for me.” He said and instantly you grabbed for the hem of your dress. “Then how about you take a seat on the edge of the bed?”

He stood up, keeping his eyes on you as you made quick work of finally getting out of your clothes. You left them on the floor, then sat in the same spot he had been occupying.

You parted your knees as he placed himself directly in front of you. In the light cast by the lamp, his eyes moved all over your body, paying attention to some features more than others. With your heart-rate keenly picking up speed, you realised that the only enraptured crowd you needed was right before you. His honest admiration didn’t leave you wanting more and it made you feel as special as if he was a stadium of cheering fans.

He leaned down, one of his hands going into your hair at the same time. His fingers dragged across your scalp as his lips got so close to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and the next second, that very-welcome first kiss happened. There was no hint of haste, you could melt into this as there was a lovely absence of needing to be anywhere else, or to do anything else.

With no orders to keep your hands to yourself, you placed your arms around his neck. As you sought to deepen the embrace in this way, he started to ease his tongue into your mouth. Seeking synergy, it felt like you could leave the rest of the world behind.

He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, but he didn’t let this become his entire focus, drawing his tongue back towards himself before too long. He sucked on your lower lip before moving on from your lips.

You kept your eyes closed as he kissed his way down, his lips treating your chin and then neck. Your thoughts were getting quieter, less significant, until the only thing you cared about was submitting.

His hands were firm on your back as he pressed one kiss after another down the length of your neck. He wasn’t seeking to leave marks this time, appreciating across your bare skin without a hint of teeth. You ran your fingers through his hair, which was back to being soft to the touch.

The lower that he kissed, the more he eased his body weight into you and you started to recline. But you kept your arms around his neck, refusing to allow too much distance to come between your bodies - you were getting to be too needy to let that happen.

His hands discovered your sides next, stroking up-and-down with his fingers following your natural curves. Your eagerness had seen your nipples getting firmer, extremely ready for his mouth as he kept kissing his way lower. He used the tip of his tongue to draw a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth around it. Your gut clenched and you dragged your nails across his scalp.

When he transferred his mouth to the other nipple, he treated it to a suck. You couldn’t help whining, that irresistible heat spreading further under your skin.

“I don’t get to have you as an after-work treat often enough.” He said, keeping the pressure on your nipple with his fingers as he spoke. “Have I mentioned how much I love having you come on the tour?”

“I think you have said it, but you could show me how much you love it.” You said, keeping any bossiness out of your tone.

“Oh, I’m going to.” He said.

His mouth got occupied with your nipple again. More of his body weight eased into you, guiding you down until your back reached the mattress. He was on top of you partially, but you wanted more, the desires building higher as his tongue manipulated the stiff peak of your nipple.

He put his hands under your elevated knees and your thighs were spread even further apart. He moved in to fill this space, his hip bones pressing into the cushioning of your upper-thighs. He got close enough that you could feel how hard his cock had become as it rested against you. But he didn’t make any moves toward penetration, just rubbing himself on you as his lips kept playing with your nipple.

You grinded against him, unable to conjure any patience within yourself. He sucked hard on the nipple and you felt the excited aching in your cunt, so eager to be acted on.

“If you have any doubts about how much I love it- this kind of obsessed with it love…” He said, his shaft getting wetter on your labia majora. “I’m gonna fuck those doubts right out of your head.”

“Right now?” You asked, gripping the back of his neck hard enough for the nails to press in.

“Uh-huh.”

You tilted your hips, expecting penetration. But this continued to not happen, just more grinding that you knew could not get you the relief that you needed. Inside you, the tension coiled and it was impossible to think of anything but this need. There was nothing you could mentally reach for that could help you calm down.

You knew that he would disapprove of you trying to fill your cunt of your own accord. And you were trying to prove to him that you didn’t need any further punishing tonight. So you just moaned through the continuing of this activity that was starting to feel as taunting as it was pleasurable.

He transferred his mouth to your other nipple and you felt the nerve-endings giddy response to his manipulations. It earned a louder wordless plea from you.

This sound extended out when you felt your pussy lips finally being pushed apart by the head of his cock. Your heart leapt into your throat, you were so thrilled to be progressing to the point of feeling your cunt filled.

His mouth remained on your nipple as he started to settle inside of you. He kept massaging his tongue against it, providing a distraction as you adjusted to the new way he was lying on top of you.

He parted from the sensitive bud when the need for air got too great. He gasped and straightened up, his concentration going to fitting more of himself into you. Your cunt had started to throb, all of the pressure in your body needing somewhere to go.

“What’s your job?” He asked, measured rocking of his hips allowing him to gently move in deeper.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, steadying yourself so you could meet his gaze. “Making Daddy come.”

“And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, right?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You immediately replied.

He got about three-quarters of his length into you, but didn’t instantly follow through with the remaining inches. Instead he started to experiment with the current depth, stroking his bare cock inside of you.

He moved himself back-and-forth, establishing a maintainable tempo. You joined him as soon as you could, matching him without trying to rush ahead of him. Your excitement being acted upon was an improvement that you thought could help with your patience. It was enough to just feel yourself building towards the orgasm.

His consistency led him into moving quicker and you stuck with him, unbothered by your recovery time lessening. You were rewarded with accelerating sensitivities, tingles carried out through more of your body.

The increase of his pacing had you gripping the bed-sheets, a tremble in your hands as your breath got quicker. His eyes rushed up-and-down your body, gaining inspiration for his hips swinging - while unable to land on one definite point of interest.

He plunged in the deepest yet, with his next pound forward accompanied by him leaning down. His lips met yours as you rubbed your body against him, celebrating this proximity. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands grasping in a greedy manner.

He worked at this new angle and the pressure it brought to your clitoris made you want to melt. Waves of pleasure surged through the sensitive hood, reaching down into your receptive core. This made your walls respond to his stroking more, the fluttering getting to be constant, and more powerful.

“Squeeze it just like that.” He coached. “Squeeze it on me like you were squeezing my fingers earlier.”

You drew in a breath and made a conscious effort to clench. At the same time your legs gripped his hips tighter. You tensed around him, feeling something truly big still swelling in the deepest part of you.

“Yes.” He told you in a strained voice as he began to jackhammer faster into you. “Yes. Does that make you feel like coming?”

“Yes.” You said with a choked sob, as sticking with his pacing started to take more effort.

“Not yet.” He warned. “Daddy gets to come first, okay? That’s what’s fair.”

“Uh-huh.”

He surged that final amount of his shaft into you, his hips crashing against your body. He barely pulled back before pounding forward again.

This signalled him moving into a faster and more reckless tempo. No time was given to recovering and you could feel the tension inside you starting to fray. How much longer could you fight back getting totally overwhelmed?

He was powering through to his climax, the textured walls of your cunt starting to get coated. He was ready to unload into you. He rested his face in the curve of your neck, kissing between gasps for air.

It was a challenge to keep up with his jackhammering, your body writhing in response to his recklessness.

“Fuck, kitty.” He whined, his hips stuttering to keep him buried the whole way in.

As you were poised on that edge, he plummeted off of it. He was shivering through his climax, pressed into you as his cum unleashed. You held him, not expecting much activity right now.

As his energy stalled momentarily, you stopped the conscious effort of clenching your pussy to him. But that didn’t mean your inner-walls stopped fluttering or otherwise reacting to his continuing penetration. There were still so many sensitivities housed in this area, so you bided your time until they could return to centre stage.

You held your arms around him. Even though you desired nothing more than to make use of the electricity pumping through your system, you bullied yourself into not moving. He was to set the lead, so you just listened to the way he was steadily catching his breath.

“That’s how a good girl does her job.” He said, allowing you to see his face again as he lifted his head.

You licked your lips, expecting an imminent kiss. But he moved too far away, suddenly deciding to stand up again.

His cock remained hugged by your pussy, sliding in deeper as he planted his feet on the ground. You watched him resuming this position as your whole body ached for release. You wondered how he would give it to you, the need sat on your chest like an almost-real weight.

He picked up one of your legs again, his other hand going to your hip. It was a measured and steady plunge that he made into your pussy. He didn’t rush into any kind of pace, instead concentrating on long strokes that could deliver him to your sweet spot.

“I gotta make sure that cum is in nice and deep.” He said. His movements were coming in more consistently now, establishing a thorough but unhurried tempo.

“Uh-huh.” You were still mostly breathless as you responded. Your heart racing and your nerves remaining so tense because that dominating hunger kept you from settling.

He started to raise your leg up higher, lifting until it could be draped over his shoulder. This provided him with an extra ease of movement, his cock gliding to new angles in your slicked cunt. But it didn’t inspire him to go faster, instead he remained fixated on stroking his entire length back-and-forth.

His slow motions were giving you time to recover, which wasn’t what you had been hoping for. The cooling down of intensity was leading you to thinking, coherent thoughts starting to form, even though you deemed them to be unnecessary.

It occurred to you that the orgasm was further away than it had felt before (reality would start to creep back in, demanding acknowledgement soon). You kept moving with him, even though these swings of your hips didn’t seem to be getting you closer to your orgasm, you were still enjoying the sensations allowed to you. This felt better than lying still would - you were certain of this.

Not wanting the fire to be dulled any further, you tried to increase your own speed. You didn’t care to match him as you pulled your hips back. Regardless of how he was moving, you quickly jolted yourself forward, claiming a brief glimpse of the friction you desired.

He maintained control over his movements - either he didn’t notice your rhythm, or he was entirely uninterested in it. He stayed at his own speed, enjoying the thorough follow-through of each stroke.

You worked yourself up to a tempo that felt better than what he was currently providing you with. You arched your back as your needy pumps came in consistently.

You didn’t need him to match you to get you back up to that energising peak of sensitivities. But you couldn’t ignore how the collisions weren’t hitting as deep as you needed. Even as you worked in promising motions, you knew that something essential was missing.

“Daddy.” You whined, letting him hear how desperate you were. “You said that you wouldn’t have to edge me all fucking night. Wasn’t that the deal?”

He paused, going entirely motionless as if he needed a moment to consider this. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to edge you. I was just taking a little extra time to enjoy your pussy.” You could have cussed him out, slapping a hand over your eyes. “Are you ready to come? I didn’t know, you’re actually being so subtle.”

You let the frustration dominate you for a moment. More swears came to mind as you curled your hands into fists around sections of the bed-sheet.

You tried to decipher what he wanted from what he had said. You put your last ounces of logic into the effort.

“Please. Please let me come.” You said, locking eyes with him as you resumed your earlier speed. “Please Master, please, please!”

It got more exciting when he began to match your rhythm. As he met each of your energetic fucks, you were finally treated to those sensations that rocked you down to the core of your being. You strengthened your actions as you tightly wrapped a leg around his waist. This may have been more control than what he wanted to hand over, so you made sure to keep begging.

You didn’t have to hold anything back as you recklessly chased that climax. You went totally wild, rocking with all of your power because you were unbothered by the possibility of being exhausted in the aftermath of this.

“Yes, give it to me just like that, please. Please.” Your voice got louder as you could feel the orgasm coming back within reach. “Please give it to me.”

Your leg slipped from his shoulder as he rocked forward, more of his body covering yours. He grabbed fistfuls of the bed-sheet to help brace himself through the last moments of frenzied pounding.

When your climax finally arrived, it was so vastly different to what you had experienced in the dressing room. Immediately you handed your entire body over to it, crying out as your cunt spasmed through the accomplishment.

Suddenly it got even hotter between your receptive walls. To the sounds of his moans competing with yours, his cock unloaded into you for the second time.

“Oh, my perfect toy…” He gasped, releasing the sheet so he could caress your sides.

You fell out of the tempo quickly, making a fast transition from dazzled to devastated. With absolutely nothing else to give, you started to lower your body down to the mattress. It felt like sleep wasn’t too far off.

After pulling out, he gave you some more kisses, none of them lingering as they had earlier tonight. Then he climbed off of you, seeking his own comfortable spot on the mattress.

“There’s another continent we’ve stained some sheets in. We can tick it off the list.” He joked.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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