#amour floral

[maitreahokpe]

EMPÊCHER UN DIVORCE EN 48 HEURE

EMPÊCHER UN DIVORCE EN 48 HEURE MEDIUM VOYANT RECONNU, Comment empêcher un divorce? Vous aimez votre homme ou femme, mais il ou elle menace et insiste de divorcé. Alors que l’avis n’est pas partagé, Je peux vous aider. Même si des sorts récents ont échoué avec vous ou que ce soit la première fois que vous décidez d’entrer dans le MONDE merveilleux de la magie. Ainsi je vous propose une gamme…

[angebleue2]

[cowboylor]

gold-skinned eager baby

— the only thing that can bring charles down to earth after a race. charles leclerc x fem!reader (18+) oral (f. receiving), soft dom charles, (1) spank.

your sundress is hiked up to your waist before he sinks to his knees.

charles fists the floral pattern in his hand, snaking the other to hastily rub his fingers against you—quickly, without keeping rhythm in mind, anything to keep you whimpering into his neck.

“charles,” you’re saying between his rough kisses. “baby—”

you can't finish any thought when he gets like this. so stoic and eager to have his way with you that you can't help but abandon all words and let him spread your legs however he pleases.

when he finally trails past your navel and he's peering up at you from his knees, you're dry-mouthed and not sure where to put your hands.

“let me taste you,” he orders gruffly, using both hands to keep your dress above your panty line. your head falls back when you feel his breath waft over your clothed core. pressing his mouth against you, he murmurs, “open up for me, mon amour.”

you’re suppressing your moan through bitten lips, resisting the urge to press yourself deeper onto his face but trying to remain considerate.

“you—” you feel your eyelids involuntarily flutter when his nose nudges against your clit. “you don’t have to.”

your body shudders when you feel him chuckle against you, before moving to look you in the eye. you swallow roughly, staring back at his dark eyes that seem more blown out than usual.

“this,” his fingertips hook around the band of your underwear. “is for me.”

it becomes clear. pleasing you is always something charles has been able to control. something that he takes pride in—hearing the noise you make whenever he takes you over the edge is something he'll remember even after he forgets his own name. it's a constant. it can't be taken away by a bad qualifying session. and when would you ever deny him?

he’s quick with it; his calloused hands running up your thighs before gripping them tightly, pulling you against his mouth again. he presses a wet kiss against your swollen bud, murmuring incoherent praises into you until you’re whining and pulling his hair with nowhere to go but the wall behind you.

“charles,” you gasp his name like a prayer. “please.”

he hitches your leg over his shoulder, his mouth continuing to work against your cunt—drawing sloppy, figure eights with the tip of his tongue and glancing up at you for stolen looks at your fucked-out expression.

“right there,” you muse through bitten lips. “you’re good—you’re so good.”

your praise is met with a swift slap to the side of your thigh.

his muffled agreement against your cunt makes you stifle a smile and you have to resist the urge to tell him how good he is again. how good he is at everything he does and especially, how good he is at making you fall apart on his tongue.

“fucking—” he growls between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. “—soaking.”

you’re mewling, arching against the wall and as he holds your thighs apart. you just about melt when he peers up at you again, eyebrows knitted in frustration from everything else and desire for you. your mouth runs dry. his face is smothered against you before you could remind him how much you love him.

“come for me,” he groans into you—the vibration sending shocks down your spine. “come all over my mouth.”

there are not enough oh god's left in you by the time the heat in your lower stomach coils and you're tugging on his hair harshly. when his nose presses harshly into your clit as he lapping at your core, your thighs begin to shake.

when he pulls your sundress back down, he’s turning you around just as quickly. pressing you against the wall from behind, you gasp as he moves to press himself into you.

“you can take more, can’t you, cherie?” he’s muttering on the cusp of your ear. your eyes roll back because yes, yes—you would take everything he gave you in this moment. “be a good girl and take more for me, yes?”

[rosedere]

May I request a Oneshot with Rook Hunt? So the premise is Reader getting it one with Rook on Vil's bed. They're bedding Rook in Vil's room is out of jealousy. Our MC!reader gets the wrong idea about their relationships idea and thinks they're running out of time.

Naturally I think this scenario is best suited for smut but do what you wish.

(Whether this means RookVil is an open relationship or non-existent in the romantic sense is up to you)

(AFAB Anatomy please)

I gotchu Anon!!! I’ll admit I might have went a bit freaky with the prompt but I will gladly rewrite it if it isn’t exactly what your wanting 🫶

(Smut below the cut 18+ pleaseee)

Tw: Female/ Afab Reader, Smut

“Rook–” you tried to mumble from under his gloved hand covering your mouth, your dress that Vil and you had picked the other day ripped off of you leaving your now perked breasts uncovered from the sequin and rhinestone top of the dress, your underwear currently the hunters focus, his own thick dorm uniform still draped around his body only bothering to unzip himself to straddle above you.

“Let me go— I swear I wasn't trying to hurt Vil”

“Mon amour, you seem to be very vocal tonight,” his hand crept between your thighs, eagerly warming his calloused ungloved hand between your heat. His eyes never left your body.

Trying to prompt him to move his hand to respond was only met with the lead grip he had over your glossed lips.

His finger brushed your exposed breast only gently fondling it causing an exhale.

“strange since you were just being a sneaky petite Souris when I caught you looking around here alone” Excentuating each word with a tug to your plumb breast had you squirming under the hunter's stone-hard thighs pinning you to the bed.

You could only let yourself become breathless as Rook helplessly teased your body, shocked he was able to keep a calm composure as he began to finally move from your breast to your slit, toying with the sensitive glands now becoming wet under his gentle rubbing.

By now your worst scenario wasn't Vil coming back or Rook telling on you to his beloved House warden but instead, you staining the bed with your liquids as Rook took his two fingers inside invading your tightening walls, the squelch ringing out the room as you began to moan out loud in ecstasy.

Of course, this was prompting Rook to invade your taint hitting the right sensitive spot in your walls.

“Mnng–” you called out only looking up at Rook with a fluster that would be scandalous if anyone were to see you.

“Please rook—ng– just hurry and” You felt him speed up ever so quicker causing you to let your tongue lull out of your mouth as he moved his hand to lean over and kiss you sloppily.

The taste of outside accompanied by a floral fruity taste reminiscent of strawberry or apples was all you tasted only making you feel more excited at the prospect of Rook indulging you.

Your climax was as messy as it felt, the translucent liquid spraying into Rooks Palm, instead of trying to pull his fingers out of your folds he only began to curve his fingers soaking your discarded underwear below you and Vils bed sheets.

-

You were being rutted into like never before, your arms tied to the intricate bedpost with strips of lace from Veil's bedside.

Your back arched as Rook ruthlessly hammered his cock into your tender walls as you tried to grab a hold of anything in front of you.

Blissed out as the heat inside of you was beginning to quell;

Your slick cunt leaves a white ring around Rook's girthy length from all the teasing to your puffy slit.

“It's not that bad isn't it la princesse?” Rook kissed the back of your neck,

You shook your head before gasping at the abrupt halt of this thrust feeling yourself squirt translucent liquid around his veiny shaft.

His balls quivered at the sight of your swollen lips swallowing him whole as you pushed yourself up against his hips.

His gloved hand reached up to your hair smoothing it out so gently.

“Exhausted yet mon amour? I don't want to hurt you” he said leaning in once more to peck the side of your cheek.

But to your dismay, he pulled himself out of you leaving you overstimulated.

“No! K-keep going” you whined.

Rubbing his still erect penis against your heat for a moment the chill ran down your backside.

“I need you” 

“Please Rook do this for me”

Rooks thrust and moans began to slowly pick up, thrusting a bit quicker once more inside your begging hole.

Pulling your hair only excited you as it seemed like he was approaching his own orgasm despite you having cummed on his cock several times from how long it was.

His words spoken in French were deafened by your mewls of enjoyment as you mindlessly got off on his cock

You clenched against his large cock once more as he began to quicken before abruptly stilling himself inside your walls.

Hazy you wanted to keep him slotted inside only to feel him release all over your labia with his warm semen.

A cloud over your head you only felt bliss. Toes curling and the scent of sex and you and Rook's natural smell permeated the fairest house warden's room.

Little did you know, only known to Rook, was the fairest House warden watching silently in the dark room.

Only leaving his shadowy place of secrets next to this wardrobe once you had scurried away, semen still decorating your thighs and underwear under your dress.

Rook still stayed shirtless in the bed, cleaning himself off from his lewd display for his queen.

“So did that satisfy your curiosity, Rook” Vil let a lone painted manicured nail trail around the hunter's back.

“I hope you don't forget about me totally in favor of (name)” He snickered, before leaning into his cheek staining the apple of his flushed cheeks with the berry-toned lipstick Vil wore.

“Of course roi du poison, you will always be the fairest one of all in my heart” He shifted his eyes towards Vil.

“(Name) will have to chase harder if she wants to catch me after all” Rook said to himself quietly.

-

Note: Btw thanks for requesting!! Im just getting around to finally having time to work on requests again so expect my activity to go up from now!

[saintsstranger]

the art of lies | t.s. (fantastic beasts) - chapter three

Chapter Summary: secrets are meant to be unraveled

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

warnings: mature themes, implied sexual content, sexworker protagonist, pleasure house (brothel), smoking

the art of lies masterlist

BENEATH THE STEPS OF THE ARCHWAY and golden street lamp, Theseus would’ve thought you looked heavenly. Almost resembling an angel. 

With your hand holding onto a luggage with all your belongings, waiting for him.

“Run away with me?” 

You would’ve asked. And right at the moment, Theseus needed not to think about the future, he would say yes. 

He didn’t understand why or how it came to be.  You were an angel of seduction, smiling at him with a hand outstretched. Only for your eyes to not gleam like he wanted to.

This was a sweet— sweet lie. 

What stands in front of him was not you. Merely a shadow of wistful thinking. This was just Theseus’ imagination playing tricks on him. A mere wish from the heart.

Is it because he has been through war for years, and the only sign of romantic attraction he had was back when he was still in Hogwarts, rejected because he was not from the House of Slytherin. This was not a school-boy crush; this relationship—whatever it is he is threading into is such a dangerous game. And this far surpasses such simple childish attractions.

How easy it is for you to tear him apart, break his mind, graze your teeth on his pulse, and make him bleed, but instead, you chose not to. It was pathetic to think he came apart so quickly, he wasn’t always like this. He was a child of war, and he had seen it first hand. And Theseus trusted you fully, baring his heart, mind, and soul.

You only wanted one thing: safety. He can see right in your eyes, the freedom; the ability to walk out of this unscathed. And Theseus would gladly give it to you if it meant the world. The responsibility of keeping you safe didn’t feel like a burden; it was a promise he was willing to burn the world for. 

And for his vow to be true, he needed a way in—just like you thought him, he needed leverage to offer to Madame Blanche, something she does not have. If this was the only way you’d ever get to leave, then he was ready to get his hands dirty.

To be standing right where it began, he looked at the looming structure of  Amour Délicat. The over-nauseating scent of floral-filled his senses, the bite of the cold air was fueling his nerves to a full. This time, he feared, let him grovel to the ground and beg to let you go. He would look into your eyes and, this time, he will ask for you to run away.

Running away with him? Might be a fool's wish. 

Then consider him a fool.

Although there seems to be quite a predicament, Theseus is currently facing two problems. The first is that there is a recent development about the case of the missing delegate. 

Charles Moore had been found. A big problem is that he is dead, located in the muggle world with traces of cruciatus curse lingering on their mangled body. When Theseus and Torquil Travers heard the news, they immediately knew that this was done by someone who wanted to know that their threats were not to be taken lightly. If they had dumped his body right on the grounds of the muggles, then they were a threat, someone who is not afraid to showcase magical acts in front of non-magical people. Someone who wants the world to know about them, the wizarding world.

And the biggest problem he is currently facing is that you haven’t talked to him in two weeks, no letters or planned rendezvous. You must have known what happened to the missing delegate and presumed that your job with Theseus was done, therefore, ceasing contact. Theseus vowed he would provide you safety, and right now you had gone back into hiding; you must have felt disappointed with him. And Theseus who never grew desperate, who always has his head on his shoulders, is running out of options.

Just like the first week he had met you. He came barging right in, and the receptionist's eyes widened in recognition at the sight of the auror. Madame Blanche had posted details about being wary of British Aurors getting information, but it did not pass by the woman’s mind. Since the auror came alone, it must be just another customer wanting a night of debauchery, giving him her customer service smile.

“Welcome to Amour Délicat, where the finest maidens and bachelors are always catered to your liking. How can we be of service?” 

Like a practiced mantra, the receptionist did not miss a beat. Theseus looked at her, then the surrounding areas, not scanning like it was a crime scene rather looking for something… or someone.

“You wish to avail a particular flower, then?” Her voice became white noise to Theseus' senses as he looked for you in the nook and cranny of the lounge. After a minute, Theseus returned to his senses and stared right back at the woman before him.

“No. I am here to gather an audience with Madame Blanche.” That was unpredictable.

“Oh! Then I’ll put you on hold. I need to talk to Madame about your presence. I’ll let you know if she declines your request.” It was clear to Theseus he was unwanted here. After making a ruckus the last time he was here, the young lady at the receptionist must have thought he was here for a service. With a nod, Theseus waited as the young woman walked towards the backroom.

Theseus turned around once more; even with broad daylight Amour Délicat was still full of clients roaming about. If it weren’t for the kind of establishment Amour Délicat has, this would've looked like a regular instance, but the patrons that walked in and out were enshrouded in the anonymity of their privacy. Faces covered by hoods were probably from a line of work that valued discreteness; meanwhile, Theseus and many others were unprepared or were simply here for pleasure, their faces evident in the light, unaware of the possibility of showing face.

Right at the main lounge, the dooming sound of the elevator from Madame Blanche sounded turning around Theseus expected it was Madame Blanche, but the footsteps were far heavier. Far too commanding. 

As soon as the piercing gray eyes of the man landed on Theseus, his eyes lit up with recognition.

“If it isn’t the world-renowned war hero, Mr. Scamander.” The man smiled as he stepped straight towards the auror. As soon as the man looked Theseus eye-to-eye, the auror couldn’t but list all the people he had known throughout his lifetime.

“I apologize. I might’ve come off as brash. Could not help myself to be ecstatic to meet the man who violated Archer Evermonde's emergency legislation. Takes a lot of nerve to help the non-magical people and be an enemy of the wizarding world.” The man held out his right hand, ready to introduce himself. “I’m Baudelaire, Pierre Baudelaire.” 

André Baudelaire, the French Minister of Magic. Theseus has only seen him twice in his lifetime, and it was evident with their eyes that Pierre was his son. Eyes that loomed over anyone who looked their way. 3

Theseus gave him his professional smile and shook Pierre's hand firmly. 

“I wouldn’t say I was the enemy of the wizarding community; I did what I had to do to help those in need.” Theseus, ever the hero, replied. Letting go of Pierre’s hand as the other man hummed. 

“A noble cause for their people… and to be awarded as a hero.” Pierre hummed. “I say the muggles certainly live a different life, wouldn’t you say so? Passing their time through a game of darts.”

“That I would not deny, they taught me how to play a game of cards. They certainly know how to amuse themselves. I assume you to had a fair-share of their cuisine as well?” Theseus, merely inquiring, looked at the man in glee.

“Their liquor was not strong… that I would remark. Although, I was not able to stay for long unlike you had done. A simple tavern.” Pierre smiled. “Alas, I hope I am not wasting your time Mr. Scamander. You must have been here for important matters.” The man started to end the conversation and gave one last pointed look at Theseus. 

“I do not mind Mr. Baudelaire, it was nice talking to you.” Theseus nodded, as soon as the man was out of sight. The faint footsteps of the  faint footsteps of the receptionist came to call for him. Just like the first-time Theseus walked into the halls of the establishment, he was led to lift that had a painting of white flowers dancing in the breeze.

For his second time being in the establishment, he realized what the flowers represented. All the small details, from the catalog of the courtesans being flowers and how your floor was decorated like the night sky. 

And there in the middle of the room sat Madame Blanche, hands on her head as she stared at the papers scattered throughout the desk. It was a far cry from what she looked like the first time they met. Instead of the refined successful woman that greeted the aurors back then, what sat at the chair was a lady far too unkept and stressed beyond her years. Madame Blanche looked like she had too much on her plate as she stared at the unopened envelope with such intensity. And right at the floor was the lone flower out from its vase, water spilling right through the carpeted floors. 

“I presume you are here for another problem, pray tell and hurry on with it. I don’t have all day to deal with you Englishmen. What do you want?” With a wave of her hand, she stared at Theseus annoyed by his presence. 

“I am here to talk about—”

“Here to propose to me your grandiose dreams of buying the indenture of one of my Bouquet de Blanc? Spare me the details Mr. Scamander, she is not for sale, never will be.” Madame Blanche procured a bottle of fire whiskey. 

Theseus' eyes narrowed, straightening his tie. 

She is not for sale, never will be.  

It was easy like that to claim your freedom and yet far from your reach, far from Theseus’ fingertips were the vows he promised you. You did not deserve that, your eyes craved the walls of freedom, the breeze of the wind as you ran away without looking back to your former job. You deserve to be free, to love like a normal human being and yet you are chained body and soul to a job you must have grown to hate.

From surviving the streets, begging crumbs off the hands of the wealthy, and now you were bound to be here forever.

“And why is that? May I ask. You let the other courtesan go easily? Why can’t she?” Theseus argued, eyes fueling with rage as the woman who sat before him only drank in her cup. With a deep sigh, the piercing stare of Madame Blanche went straight at Theseus, legilimency cursing through his veins as he felt the woman crept into his mind but Theseus knew not to yield. He had prior training, and to see what is in his mind is what his weakness scares him, you taught him that he needed leverage in every fight and he is fighting like he was back in war to protect his mind, to protect you. 

“Because with you being a simple lowly auror could never afford her Mr. Scamander.” Madame Blanche scoffed, as her attempts to pry the doors of memories, thoughts and feelings remained unopened to the keys of her legilimency. 

Her words as sharp as knives, as painful as the unforgivable curse spat right out into the open air.

“You are here to offer her love? What can that feed?” Madame Blanche stood up glaring right at Theseus. 

“Oh! You wish for a home? Do you think you can protect her with brick walls made of love? Or you wish to have a family consisting of three? Do you think your children will ask why her mother kept so many secrets? Or how about enemies? You think with all the secrets she knows, there would be no one in the world who would want her dead the moment she stepped foot outside of these very walls? How about when she becomes a mother? Do you think she can handle caring for a child when all she has known in her life is to fight for what she needs… to beg in the streets… Do you think she will be gentle like how your mother was to you? How about you, will you be able to stay through her worst throughout your whole life?” 

Theseus was silent.

“Foolish, that’s what you are Mr. Scamander. I have met the exact fools like you once, and he ended up being a disappointment.” Madame Blanche whispered, her words growing cold in the wind as did her fingertips that grazed lightly in his shoulder.

“You’re wrong.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I came here for her freedom not for love. I came here not to act as a hero rather as a helping hand. Yes, I am foolish but I’ll fight through Azkaban and back to give her what she desperately wants… and if you can’t see that then you must be the foolish one.”

Madame Blanche paused when Theseus stood up and looked at him straight in her eyes. He is indeed a respectable young man, too heroic for his age, too naive of the hurt he will walk through as soon as he opens the doors of Pandora's box of letting you free. Yet, Madame Blanche admired him for that.

“As much, as this meeting is amusing to me Mr. Scamander, I do commend you for standing your ground. You are too naive—” As Madame Blanche walked towards her chair. 

Theseus has seen it, Madame Blanche’s eyes. “You two are the same.”

“You are great liars, but there is a slight tell-tale of the both of you lying. I can see right through it without needing to pry your mind. Like mother… like daughter.” The truth coming right off Theseus lips like waterfall as the whole room has gone cold.

“What did you say?” Madame Blanche remained steadfast unlooking towards Theseus' revelations.

“That’s why you have gone to great lengths to find her, you wanted to protect your own daughter, and the only way for you to see her safe is to add her in your catalog. You didn’t want anyone prying into your weakness and using her against you. Yet here you are, bare to the world as you remain not looking at me, it’s because it is the truth. Isn’t it, Madame Blanche de Roux?” 

Madame Blanche's jaw went rigid.

“Who was it? How did you know?” Madame Blanche’s stare was far from what she looked earlier, this far by surpass the anger that he had seen earlier. 

“From her.” He didn’t mean it, Theseus never did but whenever you are traversing his minds as you are giving him your memories, another door opens and this time he had seen what looks to be an old door. 

In that memory, curiosity got the better of him as he had seen what seems to be Madame Blanche cooing at the young babe in her arms. But the words he could never understand as the couple before him fought, the only notable about the man was his own uniform of the french auror. There stood in front of him a nameless man, worried lines written all over his feature as he kissed her daughter goodbye. Daughter which features the same face that stood before Theseus. One could never forget.

“Your own daughter unknowingly showed me a memory.”

a/n: prepared for the long-due author's note

[a-midnight-rabbit]

Rook Hunt x GN!Pomefiore!Reader

no content warnings

➽────────────────────────────❥

The halls of the dorm were only dimly lit as you made your way down the corridor with soft footsteps, lights out having been several hours ago, the rest of the Pomefiore students long asleep. You however, had found yourself amidst a torrent of nightmares for yet another night.

Repeated scenes of inky overblots and your classmates embroiled in their own self-destruction running in a loop in your head. Stopping in front of a familiar door, you were relieved to feel the knob turn freely in your hand. Slipping inside the dark room, you quietly shut the door behind you, ignoring the light switch and leaving the room encased in blackness. Rook was currently absent from campus, and so it would be strange for the light to his room to be on. He had assured you that his absence would be brief, and that he would return in a few days. Some sort of family affair he hadn't elaborated on.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, you rolled onto the empty bed. Comforting, yet chill to the touch. You'd have to apologize for the wrinkled sheets later. Folded neatly at the side of the bed sat Rook's everyday school uniform. Resting atop the pile was the same white collared shirt that most of the students wore.

Pressing your face gently into the pristine white fabric the scent of a light perfume, ever familiar, met your senses. And just underneath that, though much more faint, his scent. Almost unnoticeable to just about anyone else surely, but so easily recognizable to yourself. Surely you'd been pressed so closely to him uncountable times enough to have it ingrained deep within your memories. The mix of bright florals and his natural scent brought you some comfort, at least.

Without much thought, you found yourself slipping off the shirt you'd fallen asleep in, letting it slide off the edge of the bed as you wrapped Rook's over your bare shoulders, slipping your arms into the sleeves and buttoning the first few buttons before letting your fatigued body drop back into the pillows and sheets.

Exhaustion creeping none too slowly into your body, you told yourself it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for just a few minutes. It wouldn't do to be caught here in the morning, but you could steal just a few moments of pitiful solace.........

.........your perception of time blurred, you awoke slowly, warm under the covers, as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you, strong and secure. Rook gently adjusted your body's position to press himself comfortably against you, gentle words of affection breathed softly from his lips between feather-light kisses brushed against the pulse point of your neck and the underside of your jaw as he settled in beside you.

"I missed you." You mumbled sleepily. Your lover placed a sweet kiss to your lips in reply. You weren't sure if you were awake or in yet another dream, but it was too pleasant for you to care either way. You let your eyelids drift closed once more.

➽────────────────────────────❥

"Sleep well, mon amour."

[thatsdemko]

hard work - a.leclerc

pairings: Arthur leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: slightly proofread + nsfw + not intended for minors

a/n: clearing out my drafts.. feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

the days have been long and boring without your lover in Monaco. he’s hours ahead of you, peacefully asleep in Australia, while you finish up an essay only wishing for those sweet lips against your shoulder blades.

he’d always congratulate you on your hard work. lips tingle all over your body while his hands pull at the material of your shirt, he pulls you into his lap saying he’s been so patient and now he needs your fingers all over him.

it doesn’t take much convincing for you to press the call button on your phone, you stare at yourself on the screen figuring maybe he needs a congratulatory message.

the shirt you’re wearing is thrown to the side revealing the lacy bra you’ve been sporting all day, it’s his favorite if you recall correctly.

the line says “connecting” and soon enough you’re greeted to a dark screen and the sounds of the hotel air conditioning, “amour,” he groans, you can hear the things on his nightstand fall as he swears trying to the light switch of the lamp.

when he finally does, he squints a little trying to get used to how bright it is, the bright red floral lacy is all he can see, and when his eyes adjust he blinks a little at the sight.

“where’s that pretty face?” he asks, you hear him click a screenshot before you move backwards to reveal all of you. you’re in his sweatpants and his favorite lacy bra.

“what’s this for?” he groans, you have no idea just how hard you made him. it’s nearly three in the morning and he can’t believe how bad he missed you. he never got like this, and you never FaceTimed him this horny before.

“just to congratulate you on being one of the best drivers in formula 2.” you flip around on the screen, hands working the hooks of your bra, he watches the material fall down your front and drop to the floor.

“turn for me.” he begs, a little whine escapes his lips when he sees your breasts come into view. he licks his lips, head tilting backwards as you see he took a photo of the FaceTime.

“you kill me.” he whines, you hear his breath hitch, he wants to show you how you make him feel, but he’s too busy watching you slip out of his sweatpants to reveal the tiny thong.

he groans, your name sounds like a whine against his lips, he can’t stand you. as much as this was all about showing him how proud you are, he wishes you were in the hotel bed with him. he wishes your fingers were stroking his cock rather than his own.

“I can’t wait for you to get home.” you lean against the mattress, sweet innocent smile on your lips watching him toy himself.

“you’ll be the death of me one day.”

[hookhausenschips]

Rhythm of Us {CL16}

Navigation

Summary: In a crowded nightclub, Charles Leclerc is instantly captivated by Y/N, a confident and magnetic woman, and draws her into an intimate dance that transcends words. As they move in perfect rhythm, the chemistry between them ignites, creating an unforgettable night of connection and temptation.

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: Mature Themes (This story contains sensual/romantic tension, with descriptions of close physical contact) & Alcohol Use.

16+

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

 The club was alive, pulsing with energy, bodies swaying to the heavy beat that echoed through the room. I found myself on the balcony, momentarily retreating from the chaos inside, just needing a moment to breathe. But my mind wasn’t on the night, the crowd, or even the race that was coming up in a few days. It was on her—Y/N.  

From the second I saw her; she captured my attention in a way no one else had. Her russet brown skin glistened under the lights, smooth and radiant, her hair cascading in soft, natural curls that touched her waist. The highlights in her hair caught the light in a way that made her stand out from everyone else in the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was magnetic, effortlessly stunning. I watched as she laughed with her friends, confidently ordering her own drink at the bar. 

Something about the way she moved, the way she held herself, pulled me in. I hadn’t seen her here before, but I knew I couldn’t just stand there and watch her all night. She was far too captivating for that. It wasn’t right for her to be buying her own drinks, not because she couldn’t handle it—she clearly could—but because someone as gorgeous as her shouldn’t have to.  

I straightened up, gathering my nerve as I stepped back inside, weaving through the crowd with purpose. She hadn’t noticed me yet, but that was about to change. When I was close enough, I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear to make sure she could hear me over the music. 

"Excuse me, amour. Can I come dance with you?" 

She turned her head, locking eyes with me. For a moment, I couldn’t read her expression, but then the corner of her mouth curved into a playful smirk. 

"You don’t waste time, do you?" she teased, her voice smooth and confident. 

I grinned, shaking my head. "Not when it comes to you." 

That seemed to catch her off guard. Her smirk softened into a real smile, and she nodded. "Alright. Let’s see if you can keep up." 

I chuckled, offering her my hand as she set her drink down on the bar. She placed her hand in mine, her touch warm and soft, and I led her onto the dance floor. The beat shifted to something slower, more sensual, and I pulled her in close. My arm slid around her waist as we moved to the rhythm, and immediately, I could feel the spark between us. The chemistry was instant. 

Her body fit perfectly against mine, and for a moment, it was like we were the only two people in the room. I could feel her breath, warm and steady, against my neck as we moved in sync. I caught the scent of her perfume, something floral and sweet—Kana, I recognized it instantly. It made my head spin. 

"You smell amazing," I murmured close to her ear, my voice low. 

She looked up at me, her dark brown eyes meeting mine, and there was a hint of amusement in her gaze. "You’re full of compliments tonight." 

I shrugged, smiling down at her. "Just calling it like I see it." 

We swayed together, the music guiding our movements as the heat between us intensified. Her hips moved in time with mine, her body pressed against me, and I could feel the tension rising. It was almost too much, too fast, but I didn’t want to stop. She made me feel alive, like there was something more to this moment than just a dance. 

After a few minutes, I pulled back slightly, just enough to give her some space, not wanting to overstep. "Sorry," I muttered, my voice husky. "Didn’t mean to—" 

Before I could finish, she smirked, her hand slipping up to the back of my neck as she pulled me closer again. "Do it again." 

Her words sent a shock of excitement through me, and I didn’t hesitate this time. I tightened my hold on her waist, pulling her body flush against mine, my other hand gently cradling her lower back. She let out a soft laugh, her head resting against my chest as we moved together, our bodies practically melting into one another. 

I could feel her heartbeat through the thin fabric of her dress, fast and in time with the rhythm of the music. Her laughter was intoxicating, and the way her body fit so perfectly against mine made me feel like I’d known her for years, like we’d done this before. 

"You’re really something else," I whispered, my lips brushing against her temple. 

She tilted her head back, looking up at me with a raised brow. "Good something or bad something?" 

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Definitely a good something." 

She smiled, biting her bottom lip for a second as she let her gaze roam over my face. "You’re not so bad yourself, Leclerc," she teased, her voice light, but there was something more behind her words. A curiosity, maybe even a bit of temptation. 

The music slowed further, the beat becoming a steady, pulsing rhythm that matched the tension building between us. I could feel the heat radiating off her body, and every inch of me wanted to pull her even closer. But I didn’t want to rush things. Not with her. 

"Another drink?" I asked, my voice rougher than I intended as I brushed my thumb against her hip. 

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Only if you’re making the toast." 

"Deal," I said with a grin, motioning to the bartender. When the drinks arrived, I raised mine, looking into her eyes as I made the toast. " À la femme la plus belle de ce club et la meilleure partenaire de danse que j'ai jamais eue." {“To the most earth-shatteringly beautiful woman in this club—and the best dance partner I’ve ever had} 

She rolled her eyes but smiled, clinking her glass against mine. "You’ve got lines, don’t you?" 

I laughed, taking a sip of my drink. "I’m just being honest." 

She set her glass down after taking a sip, stepping close again. "No more talking," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "Just dance with me." 

I didn’t argue. I took her hand again, pulling her back into my arms as we started to move in perfect rhythm with the music. Her body pressed against mine, her hands resting on my chest as we swayed to the slow, sensual beat. It felt like we were in our own world, the rest of the club fading into the background as we lost ourselves in the moment. 

We didn’t need words. The way she looked at me, the way she moved, said it all. This connection, this energy between us—it was electric. And I wasn’t ready to let go of her, not yet. 

A/N: Just a lil something something for you guys, this was loosely based on Don't Talk by Jon B🩷

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chérie amour

[ rolan x fem!tav smut ]

summary: Rolan comes home from a long day at Sorcerous Sundries stressed and irritated and channels all of his frustrations into orally pleasuring his lover. warnings: oral sex, slight body worship, service top rolan, stress relief words: 4105

find part two here

click here to read on ao3 or read below:

Another day had come and gone. The sun had risen and set, casting irregular shapes of orange and gold across the worn floorboards of the high-ceilinged study as it inched across the sky. It had been another day that Rolan had risen from bed and left for his work at Sorcerous Sundries along with it without so much as a feather-light kiss on Tav’s temple to wish her a good day. Another day of wondering if he’d be back in time for dinner, and another day of the pot on the stove going cold. 

The bright golden hue from the candle in its ornate silver holder casts a ghostly glow onto the canvas that Tav has busied herself with. She paints broad strokes of mauve colored paint to bring the withered edges of a floral arrangement to life – beautiful flowers left to wilt in a beautiful vase after they’d been plucked from a well-tended garden. Under the flickering light, the colors shift and change, never quite right, and she takes a step back to unfocus her eyes. 

It’s too blue. 

A touch of red would do nicely. 

Yes, that’s exactly what it needs. 

She dips into the pigments with the tip of her brush and mixes them together, attempting to find that perfect hue to make that darkened edge. Still, something looks wrong. The lighting is throwing her off. Her work feels incomplete apart from the background having yet to be filled with color, like something is missing apart from that stubborn decay. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that her paint is beginning to muddy – or maybe her tired eyes are finally beginning to play tricks on her. 

She frowns at the mess on her palette and prepares to create a new color from scratch when the distinct sound of a key finding its lock fills her ears and sounds like the most beautiful composition of music she’s ever heard. 

Eyes still fixated upon the pigments, she can’t help the way her mouth twitches up into a smile. 

Finally – her lover has made it home. 

She listens carefully for a long moment as he fumbles with the key and fails. The front door has always been a bit tricky at the worst of times. He tries again. The lock refuses to grant him entry into his own home and she swears she senses the frustration in his actions when he gives up on the pesky thing and casts knock instead. The sound of the lock clicks loudly throughout their home and the faint tingle of magic flows in from down the hall, brushing up against the bare skin on her arms like a pleasant springtime breeze. 

Rolan doesn’t take his time like he usually does once he makes his way inside. He skips basking in the simple pleasures of being home after a long day and doesn’t take the time to sit on the stool by the hearth to unlace his boots. Usually he’ll search her out when he’s all finished and dressed down into his casual attire, two glasses held carefully together in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other to share as the two of them talk about their day and wind down by the fire. 

Tonight is very different. 

He doesn’t stop by the kitchen and definitely doesn’t take the time to remove his boots as he approaches the door to their study with heavy feet and long, even strides. Tav stills. Curious. The brush in her hand lifts slightly from the palette as he comes closer and closer and she turns her ear towards the door to focus on the sound. 

It’s clear when he enters through the threshold that the poor tiefling has had quite a day. His usually bright, amber eyes are tired and dulled and his mouth is turned down slightly into a frown. 

It’s a look she hasn’t seen in quite some time. Not since he was an apprentice under Lorroakan. 

She doesn’t like it. Not one bit. The smile that had begun to grow as a result of him being back home with her is quick to slope downwards on her lips. Something isn’t right. 

The creases above his brow are worn, accentuated by the candle’s light coming from atop his sprawling desk, crowded with piles of flammable tomes and towers of rare books.

“Quite a long face,” she points out when they catch each other's eyes, and she carefully lays her brush down on a clean section of her palette to give him her full attention. 

He walks further into the room, his jaw clenched tight, and passes her at her shoulder without as much of a word to swipe the candle from his desk and relocate it to a surface far less combustible. The light disappears from the face of her canvas. 

“I thought I told you to not light a flame on my desk.” 

His tone is sharp and bleeding with sudden irritation that he doesn’t mean to transfer to her. She knows he doesn’t mean it, but it stings all the same. 

“I’ve been watching it carefully,” she tries to assure him. “I just needed the right light and the evening sun was beginning to wane.” 

He doesn’t respond, just begins to undo the ties of his robe in thick, uncomfortable silence. 

Tav continues, her voice smaller and caught slightly around a lump emerging in her throat. Perhaps he was upset with her. Her fingers catch on the hem of her painting smock and run along the rough stitching there. “I apologize. I won’t set it there again.” 

He catches it–the way she has retreated–and he lifts his head to look at her, fingers stilling for a moment. His brows tilt upwards and together and he shakes his head, a wash of unpleasantness dousing him as he realizes his mistake. Guilt fills him. His tone tends to go sour at the worst of times. 

“I didn’t mean it like that - it’s fine. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” 

He waves his hand in an attempt to dismiss her apology as unnecessary but something within Tav still feels insecure. 

She pretends to organize the brushes alongside her easel. 

Rolan sucks in a long breath. His tail flicks back and forth behind him. 

He’d spent his entire day counting down the hours until it was time to leave, counting down the minutes until he could hold her and kiss her and make up for the time spent apart, and he’d managed to ruin a nice moment for both of them in a matter of seconds because of his inability to hold back the bite of his tongue. He huffs, disappointed only in himself, his jaw clenching together tightly as he does. 

He shucks off his robe and tosses it over the back of a nicely upholstered chair, now dressed down to his trousers and undershirt, and rounds around the front of Tav’s well-loved easel to peer at her canvas. It shines with the layers and layers of wet pigment, but the picture itself is difficult to see apart from a rough outline of irregular shapes. Rolan is a wizard, not an artist. His right hand finds her lower back and Tav is quick to melt into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as he tries to make sense of her work and rubs at her spine through her shirt. 

Even his hands are tense, she notices. 

“What’re you working on?” He asks, and she’s more than happy to explain to him her vision for the project, however ambitious it may seem. 

He hums in acknowledgement and tilts his chin down to press his lips lightly to the crown of her head. They linger for a moment. 

“Are you at a place where you could stop?” 

She doesn’t have the heart to explain to him that she can’t continue without the light from the candle that he’d moved, so she instead settles for a nod and reaches around her back to pull at the strings of her painting smock. Rolan is quick to take over the task, nudging her hands away when she begins to untie them herself. 

It’s the simple gestures and acts of service that remind her why she loves him so much. 

He helps her remove the paint-covered article and hangs it up on its hook. Then he sighs, attempting to curl the ends of his permanent frown into an assuring smile when she turns to peer up at him. 

“It’s been a long day,” he admits and Tav hums, placing her hand on his forearm and trailing it downwards to tangle their fingers. “There was a mishap with cataloging a shipment of new scrolls. They had to be organized with the older ones and I had asked Cal to bring me a list and it just seemed wrong. He messed up. A whole room – just passed over. And business has been great, but trying to make sense of what's new and what remains in the midst of it all has really been quite the burden…” 

Rolan’s work at Sorcerous Sundries has made the two of them nothing but proud, but it does have quite the effect on the tiefling at the end of the day. Most days he comes home beaming with pride and bursting with excitement to tell Tav about something new he discovered in the archives or to tell her about a difficult spell he perfected, but other days have him drained and stressed. Days like these are dreaded. 

“How long did you have to work on them for?” 

“It’s been three days.” 

His words take her by surprise, as does the way his shoulders slump inwards when he’s done admitting them. She squeezes his hand and gently, he squeezes back. 

“Rolan–” 

“It’s fine.” 

It wasn’t really fine, no matter how many times he could say it or stop her from asking any more questions about it. Three days and she’d just now heard about it. It explained why he’d been coming home so late the past two nights. Made sense why he’d had to eat his dinner alone after it had long since gone cold with Tav asleep upstairs in their bedroom. 

Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d given her a kiss. A real one, not a chaste one as he slips out the door, nor the one he’d pressed to the top of her head just earlier. She craves him–their intimacy. Gods, now that she thinks about it she isn’t sure she even remembers the last time they were intimate. Just the thought makes her heart ache and her core yearn. 

Tav opens her mouth to begin to speak but he stops her with his own voice and the feeling of his other hand delicately fixing the crumpled collar of her shirt. 

“I– I just need a distraction. I would like to pleasure you – if you’ll allow me to. It’s the only thing that's been on my mind and I cannot possibly think another second about Sundries lest I abandon it entirely.” 

Tav notices immediately how his eyes have since flooded with something new. That dullness that had been there before is gone, replaced by what she recognizes as desire. 

Rolan continues, hands shaking when he smoothes out the fabric of her shirt over her collarbones. 

“It’s likely why it’s taken me so long to catalog those damned scrolls. I’ve been thinking about you. The way you feel, the way you taste… The way you love me… My stress has stolen me away and there is nothing in Faerûn that I would like more than to bring you to bliss, my love.”

He sinks down to his knees before her and Tav waffles, pulling at the collar of his undershirt to pull him back up to his feet. 

She should be the one on her knees, not him.  

“Let me–” she begins, and Rolan slides his hands up the outsides of her thighs to rest over the perfect swell of her hips. 

“–Please,” he pleads, and she doesn’t fight him any more on it. 

The wizard struggles to keep his composure, feigning patience, as he unties the silk laces at the front of her pants and hooks his fingers into her waistband, pulling the article down her legs alongside her underwear and assisting her in stepping out of them. One foot at a time. Then with gentle hands he guides her backwards until the back of her knees find the edge of the chair strewn haphazardly with his robes. 

She sits, reclining back into the plush, deep backing of it, cradled by his scent, and a pretty noise falls from her lips when he crawls forward in between her legs and spreads them apart, opening her up to him and planting a kiss to the inside of her knee. He takes a moment to cherish her body. His hands find the tops of her thighs and press, knead, and grope in a way that only makes her blush with crimson, then all at once he hooks his elbows under her knees and pulls her hips closer to the edge of the chair. The unexpected shift makes her squeak. 

He wastes no time burying his face between her thighs. He finds her clit with an open mouth, burying his nose into her mound as he gets that perfect first taste of her, moaning long and drawn out at the taste that is uniquely her. 

He’d needed this. He’d been waiting for this. Finally, he has her right where he needs her. 

He laps at her core slowly at first, holding back his avidity, taking the time to relish the blooming taste of her on his tongue as she finds her arousal, and the sound he makes when his frustration begins to bleed out from him through his tongue is divine in Tav’s ears. It makes her stomach flutter and her core tighten around nothing. Rolan wraps his lips around her bud and sucks. 

It’s as if something inside of him snaps. The little bit of restraint he had held himself back with disappears within a millisecond and the tiefling shuffles forward on his knees as if the moment could slip away. The rapid flicking of his tongue through her folds is quite a surprise, but the way he immediately drops his chin to lick and prod at her hole has her gasping and fumbling for a grasp on his left horn.

He wraps his arms further beneath her legs and she gets the hint, folding her thighs up over both of his shoulders as his hands find purchase on either side of her waist. His claws press in, leaving little indentations on her skin when he flexes his fingers or reaches out for handfuls of soft skin. She whines beautifully. Her voice is caught in her throat, trapped behind a lip pulled between her teeth, and she tosses her head back when he flicks his eyes up to watch how her face contorts in pleasure. Her jaw falls lax, open at last, and she moans loudly when he offers her the hot, broad flat of her tongue to grind against.  

“Oh– Rolan–!” 

“That’s it,” he says, a small chuckle laced between his words. An encouragement of sorts. “Give it to me. All of you. I want it.” 

Tav does her best to tilt her hips against his tongue, searching for that glorious pleasure that only his tongue can provide. The hand wrapped around his horn pulls slightly with a gentle pressure and he leans in impossibly closer. The slight change in angle is divine. His tongue slides against her core, his nose bumping perfectly over her clit with every pass, and Rolan slips his eyes shut to allow her to ride it out. That pretty gold disappears and he gets lost wholly in her body. 

The hands on her waist squeeze tighter. If he isn’t careful his claws could leave little bruises by morning. If they do, she’ll wear them with pride. 

The floorboards under Rolan’s knees groan when he shifts his weight again to settle back on his heels. When he pulls away and slides his hands downwards to rest on her knees Tav’s chest heaves, her features drawn up in sensual satisfaction. Rolan’s chin shines with slick and saliva. The sight only makes Tav want him more. He opens his eyes to gaze upon her and his breathing matches hers. Their chests rise and fall together in a synchronized pattern. Shining gold flickers down to her core, then back up to her eyes, and finally down to where the collar of her shirt has slipped enough to expose the subtle swell of the top of one of her breasts. 

Any other night the sight would have him hastily removing the pesky fabric entirely to gain access to them, but tonight is different. Tonight, his mind is set solely on dissipating the tension in his muscles and relieving himself of the displeasures of his work through his lover’s pleasure. 

Cataloging scrolls and organizing books can be tedious, boring work – especially when cursed with having to fix your brother’s careless mistakes. There’s uncertainty, and unpredictability, and unforeseen failure in the commerce of magic, but this – this, he can do. And he knows exactly how to flawlessly execute his lover’s euphoria. 

There is no failure in this. He will be sure of it. 

“Are you done?” Tav asks after a moment of stillness, when the wizard has failed to return to her core. In typical wizard fashion, he has found himself lost in thought. 

He catches her eyes again, a smirk curling upwards onto his lips as he shakes his head and leans back in, his hands carefully guiding her legs to either side of his head as his breath ghosts over her folds. 

“Not even close.” 

His tongue darts out to taste the lingering wetness on his lips. Then he dives in to drink it from between hers. 

She shivers a full-body shiver when he finds her clit again, sucking and flicking the swollen bud with quick flicks of his tongue to make up for lost time, soothing it with broad licks and nice vibrations from his own groans of pleasure. He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else but on his knees, between Tav’s legs as they flex and threaten to squeeze his ears with every ministration of his talented mouth. 

When he breaks away again to pet at her with his fingers, she reaches forward tenderly to run her nails across his scalp. The feeling pulls a drawn out moan from his throat. She follows the flow of the russet-colored strands back to where he secures his hair up and pulls at the tie there, already half undone and messy, and watches as his hair falls forward around his face and tickles the sensitive insides of her thighs. Rolan doesn’t make an effort to push it away. He stays still, rooted in place, his hooded eyes transfixed on how her sex flutters and stretches around his worshiping fingers. His breath is warm against her most delicate flesh. She combs her nails across his scalp again and he thanks her generously with his mouth. 

He teases her some more, running the pads of his index and middle fingers through her folds and occasionally dipping shallowly into her hole, before finally pushing them deep inside and making Tav gasp out. Her back arches, lifting from the upholstery and her toes curl behind his shoulder blades when he curls his fingers just right, searching for that spot inside that makes her nerves light up – and light up they do. 

He’s careful of his claws through the whole thing and continues to push in and out until the reddish flesh on his palm glistens with her wetness. The sight makes him throb and he huffs when his erection twitches and strains against the rough fabric of his trousers. 

“Rolan, come up here, darling. I need to kiss you.” 

Her voice is breathless. Pretty. He’s drawn to it like a harpy’s luring song. 

He crawls up her body with the help of her hands as they twist into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer by his biceps. When he settles down over her body he groans between sharp teeth when his belly presses up against her cunt. It’s warm through his shirt and he removes his fingers from her hole to ruck it up enough and allow her to slide slickly against his skin with slow, deliberate movements of her hips. As for himself, he grinds against the edge of the chair where his dick is trapped, moaning with each roll that puts pressure against it. It’s not enough to get him off, or even get him close, but that doesn’t matter to him. This isn’t about him. It’s all for her. 

They kiss languidly despite how both of them blindly search out pleasure with their hips. They revel in the distinct tastes of each other and catch up on how much they’ve missed out on while the last few days have dragged on impossibly slow. If Tav could freeze time and stay in this moment forever, she would. Rolan, too. Their lips slot perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle – disconnecting and ever-changing in shape – yet each time their lips meet again it’s a perfect fit. 

When she slips her tongue into his mouth he curses into her hers, a pleased noise. She runs the tip of it over the edges of his teeth, searching, mapping out the ridges and the points while stealing back the heady taste of herself from his saliva, all the while he breathes lazy and open-mouthed against her lips. They share a breath or two as hands and mouths wander, and it’s far too soon that Rolan can’t help but slink back down towards the floor. 

He throbs in his trousers and he feels the stress in his bones on the verge of spilling over, overcome with his desire to please and pleasure. He chases the feeling as he leaves kisses down her torso and across her tummy, trailing down her hips until he finds himself at eye-level with her glistening mound again and reacquaints himself with her eager bundle of nerves. 

It doesn’t take very long for both of them to spill over – not when the wizard accesses his knowledge of what makes her truly keen. He licks at her with practiced ease and drags his fingers in and out of her velvety walls until her belly tightens and her thighs press together on either side of his head, muffling the sound of her voice in his ears until he mourns it. 

He moans when she tightens, encouraging her further to let go, and finally she stumbles over into her orgasm when his other hand plants itself over her belly and pushes into the tender skin just below her bellybutton. 

She sings so beautifully as she cums. Rolan feels her voice and her body whisk away his frustration until he’s groaning in blissful harmony with her, muscles going deliciously taut before leaving him a shuddering, panting mess between her thighs. 

She looks beautiful with her cheeks flushed and her shirt hanging lazily from her shoulders. He gives her sex a few final light flutters of his tired tongue until her breath hitches sharply and her muscles spasm with increasing overstimulation, and then he’s drawing back only slightly and resting his head to the plush inside of her thigh. 

He feels the strain of the last few days bleed out of his body as his heart pounds in his chest, coming down gradually to allow him a more-than-deserved rest. The relief in his groin is an added bonus he hadn’t expected, but a pleasant one nonetheless. He could do without the sticky mess in his trousers, but a simple incantation can fix that when he’s ready. 

He feels nothing but contentment and love and holds Tav close while she cards a soothing hand through his mussed hair. They stay there together in the study until the late hour threatens to take its hold on them, and she rubs at the sensitive spots at the base of his horns until his eyes feel heavy and the serene moment begins to pull him under. 

The floor is not the ideal place for the tiefling to succumb to sleep, but for the moment, until Tav decides to take his hand and pull him down the hall to their bed, it is perfect. 

[charthurlover]

What perfume/cologne would the Van Der Linde gang wear

hi!! this is my first tumblr post, and i don’t exactly know how to do this or work the app, so forgive me if this is horribly worded or confusing.

anyways, this is my opinion on what colognes or perfumes the gang would wear. horses and cain included, since they are technically a member of the gang!!

Abigail -

something woodsy, maybe like the forest or a campfire, cedar wood, trees, plants.

examples:

- G-Water

- Tam Dao

- Snoqualine

Arthur -

tobacco, scent of alcohol, mud, outdoors.

examples:

- Jasmin et Cigarette

- Rien

- Earthworm

Baylock -

ashes, grease.

examples:

- Tobacco Blaze

- Garage

- La Yuquam Homme

Bill -

any popular male fragrances, or like gunpowder and fire.

examples:

- 9mm Ballistic Therapy

- High Noon

- Campfire Nights

Boaz -

dynamite, money.

examples:

- Wall Street

- Don Xerjoff

- 1805 Tonnerre BeauFort London

Branwen -

oatcakes, apples, water.

examples:

- Lostmarch Lann-Ael

- Be Delicious

- Cavalli Acqua

Bob -

blood, gunpowder, sweat.

examples:

- Vena Cava

- Richard Dark Side

- Secretions Magnefique

Brown Jack

pomade, alcohol, blood.

examples:

- Classic Fragrance

- Heeley Agarwood

- Molotov Cocktail

Cain -

dog, mud, grass.

examples:

- La Panthere Edition Soir

- Grass

- Zoologist Bat

Charles -

light florals, nature, clean fur.

examples:

- Coach Floral

- Super Cedar

- Coyote

Dutch -

blood, metal, tears.

examples:

- Vassago

- Spacewalk

- Rainy Season of Dresden

Davey -

snow, wood, fire.

examples:

- Waltz of the Snowflakes

- Tobacco Vanille

- Inquisitor

Enis -

whiskey, beer, grass.

examples:

- Tom Oud

- Stout ‘n Smoke

- Dune Road

Grimshaw -

sulfur, metal, cinnamon.

examples:

- Bloody Smoke

- Vanille Absolu

- Jupiter

Gwydion -

birds, leather, salt.

examples:

- Seemannn

- Black Saffron

- Millésime Impérial

Hosea -

moonshine, stew, metal.

examples:

- Moscow Mule

- Starfish & Coffee

- Santal 33

Jack -

water, horse, corn oil.

examples:

- Petrichor

- Cuir de Russie

- Seems Legit

Javier -

mahogany, cotton, musk.

examples:

- Redwood Leaves

- Lazy Sunday Morning

- Urban Musk

Jenny -

snow, wool, wood.

examples:

- Redwood Mist

- Battaniye

- Grey Vetiver

John -

sweat, musk, grease

examples:

- Flores Negras

- Silver Musk

- Cristina La Veneno Ni Puta Ni Santa

Kieran -

blood, grass, oats.

examples:

- Hora de la Verdad Sombra

- Figuier Eden

- Harran

Karen -

beer, guns, whiskey.

examples:

- Beguile

- Wicked John

- Kutay

Lenny -

blood, books, bullets.

examples:

- Seems Legit

- Diamonitirion - elixir atonit

- Moon Child

Mac -

metal, bullets, kerosene.

examples:

- Craft

- Iron Duke

- Nuvolari Rubini

Maggie -

dirt, stone, bog.

examples:

- Le Sillage Blanc

- During the Rain

- Swamp elixir

Mary-Beth -

books, ink, gold.

examples:

- Bibliophilia: Love of Books

- Supreme Vanilla

- Royal Blood

Micah -

rot, corn, mold.

examples:

- Saint Louis Cemetery #1

- Funerie

- French Kiss

Molly -

roses, grass, trees.

examples:

- Roses Musk

- Leila Lou

- Colors de Benetton

Nell II -

sweat, cows, pig.

examples:

- Amyi 3.17

- Cuir de Russie

- Hyrax

Old Belle -

carrots, beer, hay.

examples:

- Carotte

- Sónar

- Basilico & Fellini

Old Boy -

musk, tears, cow.

examples:

- Another 13

- Ozone

- Osmanthus

Pearson -

meat, vegetables, crawfish.

examples:

- Gino: Steak Scented Eau de Parfum

- Eau de Cuisine

- Wild Carrot Oud

Reverend -

whiskey, incense, coffee.

examples:

- 7 Loewe

- Bourbon e Fava Tonka

- Black Opium

Sadie -

blood, tears, gunpowder.

examples:

- Bull’s Blood 2nd Edition

- Cool Glacier

- Rendez-Vous!

Sean -

whiskey, sweat, bullets.

examples:

- Malt Akro

- Monochrome

- Amour Nocturne

Silver Dollar -

fire, wool, metal.

examples:

- Encens Pyro

- The Sheepfold, Moonlight

- Rosenrot

Taima -

deer, blood, meat.

examples:

- Ma Bete

- Trinity Blood

- Good Girl Gone Bad

The Count -

sugarcubes, peaches, pears.

examples:

- Pixie Dust

- Allure Eau de Parfum

- First Base

Trelawny -

doves, rabbits, silk.

examples:

- Ruğa Sablo

- Wet Garden

- Baklava Musk

Tilly -

bullets, baby powder, swamps.

examples:

- 266ts Pontiff’s Harley

- Cashmere Mist Eau de Toilette

- Haxan

Uncle -

manure, horse, cow.

examples:

- D’zing

- L’heure Fougueuse

- Zoologist Cow

again, this is my first post so i’m very sorry about it being bad or isn’t looking right for tumblr. so sorry.

[hihimissamericanbi]

I’ve been waiting to play THANK YOU for the tag lovely @moongays

Honestly at this point I am just tagging so people will play with me but if you haven’t already done this PLEASE DO IT and tag meeeee 🥰

@kaaaaaaarf @kaleidoscopexsighs @theresthesnitch @amethystheart2421 @severedreamerfox @thisliminalspacedaydreams @roadsidehorror @amour-anguis @moonysfavoritedog @moonheavens @itsaash @burningaurora @crushofdoves @ryder-the-writer @honeybcj @impishtubist @spookymoonie @blackberry-sunset @maybebabyplease

[timchalamet-devoted]

First time Valentine

Summary: You've never seen the point of Valentine's Day. Now Timothée helps you see otherwise.

Pairing: reader x Timothée

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something you wanted people to understand was that you adored the holidays, especially when talking about Christmas; you were a sucker for all of it. On the other hand, who wasn't??

However, in all your years, never have you paid attention to Valentine's Day. In your eyes, it was simply a day that flew right by without any significance, so why would this year be any different? That is what you thought in June; it was now February 13th.

(Your perspective)

Your head sunk deeper into your lavender-scented pillow in an attempt to free yourself of the rustling sound that carried from somewhere in the distance. Wait- lavender scented? You forced your eyes open and peeled yourself off of the soft mattress, brows farrowing slightly in confusion as the floral scent enveloped you further. Your arms struggled to support you as your drowsy head tried to make any sense of this, simultaneously picking up the peculiar sounds. Having managed to piece together that its source was, in fact, the kitchen, you kicked off the heavy blanket, swinging your suddenly exposed legs off the edge and leaving the safety of your bed. Curious of the time, you fumbled with your phone, eventually reading 11:52pm. So much for trying to catch up on some sleep.

Your groggy self cautiously made your way out of your master bedroom and down the hallway that led to combined kitchen and living room, pacing yourself as you got closer. Taking a deep breath, you peered through the doorway.

'Timmy?'

Your boy swivelled round, instantly breaking out into that adorable grin that you adored so much.

'Happy Valentine's Day mon amour!'

You burst out in laughter, for the sight that presented itself in front of you was something else: your Timmy standing in the middle of the kitchen, heaps of flowers, little intricate boxes, candles, movies, and bags of goodness-knows-what completely surrounding him, his chocolate curls now entangled with flour, little drops of egg dripping down your apron that now you saw on your boy, and hands submerged in batter, mid-mixing. Your laugh eases into a soft giggle as you walk towards Timothée, hands reaching out and wrapping around his torso, head diving into the crook of his neck.

'Mmmm' you hummed contently, 'Thank you, but what's all this?'

' Well, I just happened to know that you've never actually celebrated Valentine's Day before, which let me say I think is a felony, but that's besides the point, so I wanted to do something special for your first year! And well, this' he nodded his head towards the bowl full of batter, 'Is my attempt at cinamon rolls- HEART- SHAPED cinamon rolls to be specific'

At this point, you looked up at him, pure love and adoiration in your eyes, cheeks now scarlet red, for your boy had gone above and beyond, nothing you thought you deserved.

'I can't comprehend how lucky I am to be spending it with you, Timmy.' You beamed up at him, him grinning right back.

He leaned down slightly, and you reached on your toes, meeting in the middle and kissing tenderly. You could practically feel the love rolling off his tongue, and hoped that he could feel it rolling off yours, too.

You left his side for a brief while to inspect the other items scattered around the room, as he went back to his careful stirring.

'Hey Tim, what's this?' You inquired, picking up one of the many small curious boxes that lay throughout the room.

' Now for that, you'll have to wait until tomorrow,' he replied cheekily, looking over his shoulder into your eyes.

Your eyes flew to the small digital clock that hung above the countertop, and a smirk appeared on your face.

'Looks I won't have to wait much longer '

You remarked just as the numbers switched to 00:00.

'The morning. They'll look better in the sunlight!'

The wink that accompanied that statement made you roll your eyes. Despite that ,you were nothing short of extatic.

'Fineee, do you need any help, love?'

'No! I'm treating you!

You reached up again to capture his lips in yours, striving to express the never-ending gratitude you felt. You sneakily reached up a hand and ruffled his curls, flour cascading all over the two of you, sending both of you into a wild fit of laughter.

You then propped your face in your hands, leaning on the kitchen counter, focusing your vision on his face, still with concentration. You smiled softly as you noticed his cheeks turning a slight crimson.

40 minutes later

Timmy had just finished the rest of the dough and inserted it into the fridge for an overnight cool-down, so you took this time to assist him in wiping down the counter despite his consistent protest. Just as you were finishing up, he stepped over to one of the bags closer to him and pulled out a delicate single, red rose, tapping your shoulder gently to catch your attention.

When you saw what he was holding, you smiled wider than you had all evening, if that was even possible, knowing that he had specifically chosen a red rose, due to your love for the flower.

' I hope you know how much I love you mon ange, mon amour'

Your eyes glistened over, as you gazed into those love-filled eyes. God, you were fully, madly in love with the boy.

'Trust me, I do'

You stood there in silence for a while, simply admiring each other, each of you the favourite person of the other, undeniable love flowing between the two of, and the rose resting in yours intertwined fingers.

He then grasped the rose stem with his teeth, and you completely lost it; you two certainly could not keep anything serious. Way to ruin the moment Timothée! But hey, did you mind? No, not at all, on the contrary, you loved it.

Your Timmy was perfect. <3

[kimchi-bby]

⌦ .｡.:*♡ Random Pink Noun names ੈ♡˳

Name Shop Restock ; Pink Noun Names ✎ Noun names ( fem, masc, neu. ) that are pink ( or red ) in color or give off pink vibes. Can also go in with lovecore or themes similar to lovecore. ੈ♡˳

𓆩♡𓆪 Rose 𓆩♡𓆪 Pastel 𓆩♡𓆪 Lipstick 𓆩♡𓆪 Peach 𓆩♡𓆪 Flamingo 𓆩♡𓆪 Lace / Lacy 𓆩♡𓆪 Coral 𓆩♡𓆪 Salmon 𓆩♡𓆪 Hibiscus 𓆩♡𓆪 Quartz 𓆩♡𓆪 Rosy 𓆩♡𓆪 Floral 𓆩♡𓆪 Dainty 𓆩♡𓆪 Strawberry 𓆩♡𓆪 Cherry 𓆩♡𓆪 Champagne 𓆩♡𓆪 Raspberry 𓆩♡𓆪 Dawn 𓆩♡𓆪 Sunset 𓆩♡𓆪 Soft 𓆩♡𓆪 Fluffy 𓆩♡𓆪 Flower 𓆩♡𓆪 Ribbon 𓆩♡𓆪 Doll 𓆩♡𓆪 Petal 𓆩♡𓆪 Blossom 𓆩♡𓆪 Bloom 𓆩♡𓆪 Poppy 𓆩♡𓆪 Bouquet 𓆩♡𓆪 Corsage 𓆩♡𓆪 Albino 𓆩♡𓆪 Orchid 𓆩♡𓆪 Flora 𓆩♡𓆪 Perfume 𓆩♡𓆪 Vintage 𓆩♡𓆪 Candy 𓆩♡𓆪 Feather 𓆩♡𓆪 Butterfly 𓆩♡𓆪 Aroma 𓆩♡𓆪 Lust 𓆩♡𓆪 Lovesick 𓆩♡𓆪 Eros 𓆩♡𓆪 Cupid 𓆩♡𓆪 Comfort 𓆩♡𓆪 Darling 𓆩♡𓆪 Smitten 𓆩♡𓆪 Soul 𓆩♡𓆪 Lovebird 𓆩♡𓆪 Crush 𓆩♡𓆪 Darling 𓆩♡𓆪 Baby 𓆩♡𓆪 Amorous 𓆩♡𓆪 Amour 𓆩♡𓆪 Pathos 𓆩♡𓆪 Fluff 𓆩♡𓆪 Stardust 𓆩♡𓆪 Poetry 𓆩♡𓆪 Worm 𓆩♡𓆪 Lychee 𓆩♡𓆪 Cotton 𓆩♡𓆪 Axolotl

[that-one-random-writer]

City Of Love Part 2 [Complete]

Kind of an AU drabble multi part words:

Summary: You are a famous fashion designer, Jake is an actor. You style Jake for a photoshoot for his cover on Vogue magazine. It set you up for a night in Paris. Word count: 1,251

Warnings: 18+ for language and NSFW content This is very 2000s inspired.

Part 1 Part 3 My Masterlist

Your foyer has a delicate table in the center holding a gorgeous vase with a fresh floral arrangement. Your housekeepers had just finished their routine. You step across the marble floors, aiming for the hardwood of the dressing room. "Navi dear, help me with my outfit, then you can go home for the night."

Navi followed you to your dressing room. You had texted Jake just before arriving, and he confirmed the date. "So, what are we thinking for tonight?" He questioned while flicking through the hangers. "I'm thinking couture from the 'summer's night in Paris' collection." You briefed your assistant on your plans.

"Fabulous darling. Maybe a string of pearls, sophistication, classy." You waved your hand. "Too old, and the stripe pattern clashes with the shape of the pearls." He agreed and continued looking. "Black choker, with the ankle strapped stilettos?"

Your lips curled into a soft grin. "Simple luxury."

He held his hand out. As if telling you to wait. "For the bag saint laurent, Cassandre Matelassé chain wallet in Grain De Poudre embossed leather." You clapped your hands together with a scream of joy.

"Navi, you are mon amour." My love. He bowed and grabbed the items, setting them aside for you to get dressed. "Go home and get some much needed rest." You smile happily, pushing him from towards the door. He waves goodbye and slips out the door, using his key to lock up the front.

You dressed into the newest pair of lingerie. A red lacy set from Jane's Vanity. You slipped on a simple pair of black leather pants with a black and nude striped bodice style top. Your choker is clasped tightly, with your stilettos clasped on tighter. You checked the time and texted your chauffeur. You clacked down the hall, turning your lights off.

Your chauffeur opened the door, and you stepped in the car, getting comfortable. Your thoughts were on the actor. The way he looked at you. Your bottom lip fell between your teeth. His body was so chiseled and perfectly sculpted. Jake definitely had the confidence to back it. Your mind swirled him into positions above you, below you, and beside you.

Your door opened, and flashes of paparazzi cameras pulled you from your thoughts. You put sunglasses over your eyes to help with the flashing, then grabbed the hand that had been offered. You found Jake pulling you from the car. You stood beside him, and you linked your arm to his placing your opposite hand against his bicep.

His outfit must have been chosen from his stylist. His top was left open three buttons down with his sleeves rolled up showing off his muscular arms. His pants were pleated at the top with a black and thin gold stripe down the legs in a pattern.

His hair was styled perfect without a hair out of place. You smiled up at him, and you were absolutely positive that these photos would be on a magazine cover somewhere.

You both were welcomed by the waiter.

"Bonsoir, your reservation s'il te plaît?" Good evening, please.

Jake smiled politely at the waiter. "Jake seresin."

The waiter looked over the list. "Merci, follow me." Thank you. He instructed, then led you both to a table for two. The table is covered with red linen and a small candle lit in the middle. "mon nom est Louis. I will give you some time to look over the menu. Chef Jean is honored to serve you both tonight." My name is. He bowed.

"Merci, Louis." You spoke up before turning your attention to the menu. "Have you ever been here before?" You glanced up at Jake. He was looking over the menu himself. "No, I haven't, I'm assuming you have?"

You sat down the menu. "Oui, Chef Jean was voted for GQs chef of the year a few years ago. He is one of the best in the world." Yes.

Jake lifted his eyes. "What do you recommend?"

Your fingers trailed across your menu. "The seabream, or the poached cod. Both are incredible."

"Which wine do you think is the best?" He glanced at the wine menu.

"Do you want my honest answer, or do you want my 'being considerate on a first date' answer?" Your voice playful but had notes of sincerity.

"Always Honest..." He trailed, looking up from the menu, meeting your eyes.

"The 1994 Montrachet, it has aromas of deep mineral spice with hints of orange blossoms and star anise. It pairs so nicely with the fish."

Jake smiles politely as Louis reaches the table. "Ladies first." Louis glances in your direction. "I'll have the seabream." He nodded, writing it down. "Yes ma'am and for you, Monsieur?" Sir.

"I'll have the poached cod. Could I get a bottle of the 1994 Montrachet as well, please?"

"Of course." He wrote down the order, took the menus, then bowed dismissing himself to the wine cellar.

"Jake, you don't have to do that. That bottle is ten thousand dollars." You crossed your leg over the other.

Jake smiled the famous smile with his laugh lines lifted and perfect teeth shining under the dim candle light, saying cooly, "I got it." As if he were talking about a ten dollar morning cup of coffee.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. Your lips mimicking his in a smile. "What is your favorite wine?"

"I'm not much of a wine man. I prefer beer." He chuckled, leaning back comfortably in his seat.

"You can take the man out of America but can't take the American out of the man." You giggled softly.

"No, you really can't. So tell me about yourself? What is life like for a French fashion designer?" He spoke with his drawl. It thickened just the slightest.

"I am working on a few pieces right now. Fashion week is going to be soon, so Paris is going to be full of life in a few months. What about an American actor? What is your life like?" You rest your arm on the table.

"I just got done filming a new movie, so I've got a premiere coming soon." His body shifting comfortably in pride of his accomplishments.

"I've seen the previews it looks good. You looked really good in it." You leaned forward, emphasizing how you really meant his topless scenes were a part of your enthusiasm.

He chuckled with a smirk poking through. "You think so."

"Absolutely. I got to see the real thing in person. The live version of you undressing was impressive." You eyes traveled down to his lips. Then, back to his sea foam eyes.

"I bet a live of you undressing would be even better." His suggestive tone was quite alluring.

"I can't disagree with you. I've walked a few Victoria Secret shows. I don't normally do a show for free, but I really would like to reenact the sex scene in your new movie. That one position seemed very interesting." Your voice held such power and foward behavior.

Jake's eyebrows lifted, his smirk raised. "I think we can work something out." He tried so desperately to hold himself together. Jake wanted nothing more than to push every delicate, expensive item off the table, disregarding every peice of polished silverware and pick you up, slam you on the table and take you right there, but he held himself together.

The sudden shift in sexual conversation was turning you both on. Neither one of you wanted to sit through dinner anymore, but the food had finally made its way to the table, so the suffering teases had begun.

[anghjulumariacosta]

Fleur Et Eau Idéalisées Par L'ApparitionChimérique De L'Oiseau Cavalier

Quelque part dans cette paresse d'enivrantes couleurs florales, ennuyé au milieu des flux aquatiques l'oiseau cheval reste statique. Désespoir en ses yeux s'évapore dans son immobilité, il s'y cachent les nuances pâle. Cœur brisé d'un amour nuisible reflétant le pavot flétrie... la chimère cavalière mue dans l'esthétique elle s'efface. Disparaît, à tout jamais, et laisse en son jardin si beau, ses souvenirs. l'animal si beau pourtant monumental, oublié d'un amour qui était seulement juste la plus grande absurdité...

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 15: Dentelle Noir (Lingerie)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has a surprise for Spy during a romantic night in a hotel

Tags: Lingerie, oral, hotels

Word Count: 1.6k

The Masterlist

It wasn’t often that you and Spy were able to be alone together. The few chances you did have were spent with quickies, always so fast and messy, with no time for any real intimacy. With how busy the base could be, there wasn’t really any time for the overly romantic gestures that Spy preferred,which you swooned for every time, no matter how cliché they might seem.

That was when the idea of booking a hotel room was brought up. The moment a few days of ceasefire were called, Spy took the opportunity to whisk you away to a quaint little hotel far from the base. A big room, reliable housekeeping, and no risk of interruptions. What more could you ask for? The whole situation had that intimate, erotic thrill that you had been aching for, and unbeknownst to Spy, you had a finishing touch to make it all perfect.

It was easy enough to get ready in the spacious bathroom. It was a simple ensemble, but still eye-catching. You admired the matching black bra and panty set in the mirror, complete with garter belts. You had agonized over that last particular aspect for a while, wondering if the garters would be too much. You eventually decided that the outfit simply wouldn’t be complete without them.

Floral lace adorned the garments, drawing the eye to your best assets without looking too gaudy. Still, you were a bit nervous. You had never worn anything like this before, so you weren’t sure what to expect. You hoped Spy would like it. You grabbed a long, silky robe provided by the hotel. It concealed the risqué outfit, allowing you to maintain the element of surprise. With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom, and into a setting straight out of a romance novel.

Spy had taken it upon himself to prepare everything while you were occupied. The lights were dimmed and the curtains were drawn shut. Scented candles on the nightstand and dresser provided most of the light. To top it all off, literal rose petals were scattered across the sheets of the bed and the carpet surrounding it.

‘ Where the hell did he even get those? ’ you wondered. It was a question that would have to wait to be answered later.

When you saw Spy, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t in anything particularly special, just a dress shirt and slacks. He sat in an armchair in the corner of the room skimming through a travel brochure, patiently waiting for you. In the flickering light of the candles though, he looked oh so alluring. He had even removed his mask, letting you get an eyeful of that often disheveled salt and pepper hair. You cleared your throat, and his eyes rose from the brochure. An inviting smile played on his face, drawing you even closer.

“Hello darling.” He rose from the chair and approached you. “I take it that the room is to your liking?”

“Spy, this is gorgeous,” you said, making no secret of how impressed you were, thoroughly entranced with the romantic atmosphere that he had created in such a short amount of time. You picked up a petal from the bed, feeling the soft texture between your fingertips. Sure enough, they were real. “God, how did you even manage this?”

Spy visibly sat up straighter with pride in a manner one could only describe as peacock-like. “I have my ways, mon amour.”

He walked up behind you while you were preoccupied with the petals, stroking your stomach over the smooth fabric of your robe, enticing you to turn around and face him. His devilish smirk perfectly foreshadowed all that you had planned for tonight. Without a second thought, you pressed your lips against his, finally kicking off a night of unbridled passion.

You were pushed backwards, and the back of your thighs were soon pressed against the edge of the bed. Spy gently wrapped his arms around you, lowering your body onto the mattress tenderly. You reached out to pull him down with you, holding him close and relishing the comforting warmth that was held between your bodies.

A hand slipped under your robe, but paused upon feeling the lace hidden underneath. Spy pulled away, cocking his head to the side curiously. You simply smirked up at him, encouraging him to explore further. You watched as he untied the sash holding the robe closed, revealing your little surprise for him.

Color blossomed in your cheeks as you watched Spy take in the sight. He made no secret of his blatant admiration for you. One thing was for sure, any insecurity that you had previously felt about the outfit had been banished from your mind.

“I’m guessing you like it?” You asked, trying to calm the flush in your cheeks.

“Oui, my love,” Spy whispered dreamily, running his hands over your garter clad thighs. “Mon dieu, you look absolutely gorgeous. Si belle.”

You smiled, ultimately failing to smother your blush. You shifted onto the center of the bed, leaning back on the plush pillows. You made for quite the tempting sight, and Spy followed you without hesitation. Soon he was leaning over you again, pressing heated kisses to your lips before trailing down your neck. His hands played with the waistband of your undergarments as he did so.

Eventually, he managed to feel his way around the garter belts, unhooking them and allowing him to slide the panties off. The garters were left around your thighs, squeezing around the supple flesh in a manner Spy found quite tantalizing. He continued to kiss his way down your body until he finally made his way between your legs, pleased to see that you were already very wet.

You let your head fall back on the pillows, a moan falling freely from your lips when Spy’s tongue made contact. He teased you for a while with long, languid strokes along your entrance, holding your hips steady in case you were tempted to buck against him. You clutched at the bedsheets with your fists when he changed his rhythm, flicking his tongue upward towards your clit and sending sparks of pleasure up your entire body. He was good at this, and if he kept it up, it wouldn’t be long before you finished.

“Oh fuck, Spy!” Your hand weaved through his hair, tugging slightly to convince him to stop. You didn’t want to come just yet. “Please, I need you inside me.”

Spy pulled back, looking up at you with a lust laden gaze, clearly more than eager to fulfill your demands . He sat back up on his knees, removing his pants and briefs. The garments were immediately tossed to the side before Spy made his way back over to you.

Apparently, Spy had enough patience to tease you just a bit more. He slid himself along your entrance a few times, simply tantalizing you with his cock but not yet filling you like you wanted. You looked up at him desperately. If he wanted you to beg, you could beg.

“Spy, please,” you moaned, eyes half lidded and clouded with need. Small bruises were already beginning to emerge along your neck where Spy had laid claim to you earlier. All together, it was a view he simply couldn’t resist any longer.

“Bien sûr mon amour,” he whispered, voice low and dripping with desire. You gasped, arching off the mattress as you felt him finally thrust into you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, desperate for every last inch of him.

With a soft groan, Spy pulled out before thrusting back in again. He continued like that for a while, maintaining a pattern of long, slow, arcing thrusts that hit their mark deep every time. You practically went boneless beneath him, throwing your head back against the pillows once again as you moaned and sighed. However, you soon began to buck your hips up against Spy’s, conveying your desire for a quicker pace.

“Harder,” you cried, hands gripping Spy’s silky dress shirt tightly. You looked up at him pleadingly, and he responded with a quick nod. Taking hold of the headboard for leverage, he began to speed up, his hips meeting yours faster and rougher.

“I love this sight, mon ange,” Spy groaned, one of his hands starting to trail down your body. “So beautiful, and taking me so well, clad in lace like this.”

That wandering hand eventually traveled low enough to reach its destination. Spy rubbed his thumb over your clit as he thrust into you. Your back arched once again at the overwhelming addition of sensation. Coupled with a few hard thrusts to a particularly good spot, you were coming before you even knew what had hit you.

You found yourself clutching at anything you could get your hands on, eventually settling on Spy’s shirt once again. It was most likely thoroughly wrinkled at this point, not that either of you cared. Spy’s moans almost rivaled yours, making it obvious how good it felt to have you clenching around him. With a final hard thrust and a strangled gasp, he came as well, collapsing to your side with a sigh.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you whispered, snapping one of the garters against your legs absentmindedly.

Spy grinned, pulling you against his body once he had regained enough strength. Your head rested on his chest and his fingers brushed through your hair soothingly. “I would have done this a long time ago, if I knew I would get to see you looking so ravishing, chérie.”

Your only response to him was a sly, reassuring grin. You would most certainly be investing in some more intimate garments, and probably more hotel stays as well. Even as exhaustion began to register in your mind, your thoughts raced with all the different colors, patterns, and lace you wanted to model next. As you finally succumbed to the beckoning of sleep, the last thing you remembered was Spy, humming contently to himself and tracing his fingers along the intricate floral patterns of your lingerie.