#as for networking. Well. gestures

[cleromancy]

i would be wayyyyyyy more likely to see tim pursuing higher education if he had graduated high school (~*new earth continuity post*~). bc what he did like about school was socializing with peers and the aspect of normalcy and like... hes absolutely not going to re-enroll back in hs atp. hed have to get his GED. and he... could do that. but he'd have to be motivated enough to want to go to college enough to schedule the GED i think months in advance plus needing to wait for the next semester of whatevwr gotham community college hes looking at to start... And Also the very high chance that he would miss his appointment for the test LMAO like it would be incredibly on brand for him to sleep through it or like be stuck in, idk, brussels or someplace on a mission and misremember the time difference. furthermore after a certain point hes gonna start feeling like he missed his window particularly if what he *actually* wants is to be around normal ppl his age and feel tethered... like at that point just go see if ives has a tabletop rpg thing going u can join baby yk

[k-hotchoisan]

the scentist

<san x fem!reader>

Your neighbour—Choi San—is such a gentleman on top of being a complete hunk and smelling so fuckin good. Especially so when he offers his hoodie when he sees you being drenched. Well, nothing could come out of such a simple gesture of kindness, right?

Genres/Warnings: perverted & obsessed scentist!San, Olfactophilia (sexual arousal from scent), masturbation on clothing, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, cumming untouched, armlock (light) breeding, pussy drunk San💙

💙 @san-network 💜

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify

A/N: WE BEEN KNEW THAT I’D LEAVE MY FAVOURITE MAN FOR THE LAST!! 😮‍💨 don’t be sad that this event is ending ok,, we got more to cum come 🥰 thank u for giving my fics so much love as always!!

🩷back to staying perverted

Lavender. Sweet pea. Azalea. Gardenia. 

The scents of the florals fill his lab, something he’s so used to already. As the concoction bubbles, he walks over to the other flowers potted along the shelf, pressing the petals against his nose, taking in their smell before he pulls away. He pulls off his goggles, walking over to his desk, staring at the standing whiteboard, filled to the corners with flower names, chemical compounds, and other miscellaneous details. Even though he’s doing fine, he feels that something is missing. Choi San feels stale and stuck. 

The rain is pattering down heavily against the pavement, he stares at the raindrops hitting the leaves of his plants. San often gets compliments on how beautiful his plants are, and how natural he is at gardening. San would don his signature smile and he would thank them for the compliment. Sometimes, his neighbours would come by to ask for gardening advice and San would gladly entertain them. This evening was no different. Another one of his neigbours who was growing greens had wanted to express appreciation by buying San his favorite fertilizers. Stacking them neatly in his cabinet, San then decides to head down to the reception to receive his parcel. 

Fuck. The downpour was so sudden. It totally caught you off guard, and you were drenched before you realised it. You make it to the entrance of your apartment complex, shivering slightly from the air conditioning. You shake off the excess water off your arms, and when you look up, your heartbeat quickens—your apartment complex crush is standing at his letterbox, filtering through his mail while he holds a parcel in his arms. He’s in a grey hoodie, and for some reason, it makes him look big, and it’s driving you insane. Shit, shit, shit. You pray that he doesn’t turn around and see you.

“Hey. Good evening y/n”, San greets cheerily. You force a smile, “Good evening San.”

San has his eyes on you, and you swear he’s eyeing you down—probably judging you for being drenched and shit. 

“Looks like you reached back just in time”, he teases, and you pout. 

“I feel like a drenched dog. Is this how dogs feel after a shower?” You reply, brushing your hands through your wet locks, all in an attempt to stop yourself from staring at San laugh—his voice is hypnotic enough to make you melt into a puddle already. The cold air from the air conditioning hits you once more, and this time you’re beginning to shiver uncontrollably on top of struggling to open your damn letterbox and not looking like a circus in front of your crush. 

You focus on fidgeting with your letterbox keys, your fingers reaching out to snatch the letters. When you close the latch, San has his hoodie unzipped, and he’s removing said outerwear. 

“San, what are you-“

He’s about to hand you the hoodie, but he instead opts to put his parcels in your hands, and he fucking fits the hoodie around your shoulders, and when he does, his smell floods your senses. He smells like a mix of floral—with hints of spice and citrus, and although for a brief moment, you have it locked in some part of your brain. His fingers brush against yours as he takes his parcels and letters from you, and it doesn’t help that he’s in a black shirt that hugs his biceps, shoulders, and chest a little too well. You barely muster the strength to peel your eyes away, feeling your heart flutter when his fingers brush against yours as he retrieves his packages back from you.

You look up, hoping that the fluorescent lights don’t highlight the heat that’s rushing to your cheeks. You’re still shivering, but suddenly you don’t feel as cold as before. 

“Thank you, San”, you smile. “I’ll wash it and return it to you ASAP.” San smiles in response and the both of you walk to the lift together, light conversations and laughter filling the spaces as your body and your heart gradually warm up.

San is exhausted—he’s been at the lab back to back, drafting report after report, and it’s been taking chunks out of him. Palm against his neck, he tilts his head, shutting his eyes as he stretches his neck, and then he sighs. His superiors finally approved his reports and now he has the god-given chance of going home and catching up on his sleep for the night.

The muffled sounds of his doorbell stir him up from his sleep. He doesn’t shift for a couple of seconds. Then his hands shift across the bedsheets to feel for his phone. The doorbell sounds a couple more times and San grunts in his groggy state, his fingers hitting against the edge of his phone, which he pulls closer to him to check the time.

It’s 2 pm. He crashed for 14 hours last night. 

He slowly sits up, letting his sight adjust to the afternoon sun filtering through his windows before he walks over to the front door. He’s slightly grouchy from the amount of sleep he clocked in, but as he swings the door open, the remainder of his sleep dissipates when he sees that it’s you standing before him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask, rubbing your neck. “I wanted to return you this..”, you bring up a paper bag to San’s view. San is still registering this.

“But you weren’t home for the past couple of days, and I don’t have your phone number..” 

San blinks. Then his hands reach out to take the paper bag, and his eyes glance downwards. 

Ah, it’s his hoodie. 

He looks up back to you. “Thank you. Don’t tell me you’ve been coming here every day to try to pass me this?” 

“Yes and no..?” you answer with a smile. It spreads to San, who suddenly feels a shot of guilt for making you come to his unit when he wasn’t even there half of the time. 

“I’ll treat you to dinner for the trouble I’ve put you through”, he says hastily. He thinks the way your eyes widen and how pink is flushing at the tip of your ears is so adorable, and then he cuts you off before you attempt to decline his offer, “Pass me your phone.”

The phone in your hand is in his now and he types in his phone number before he hands it back to you. 

He leans in slightly closer, and there is a particular scent that slowly starts to make its way to his brain. Is it coming from you? For some reason, he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since the day he lent you his hoodie. And there it was again, faint, but it was definitely there.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, y/n?”

He’s almost disappointed when he sees you shake your head, but at the same time, he has lab work to do, so he shuts the door after he sends you off with a smile, not knowing that you omitted that you wore his hoodie a couple more times after washing (mostly due to the cold weather).

He drops off the paper bag on his bedroom floor before he heads off to his home lab.

Unfortunately, the extra 14 hours of sleep still doesn’t spark inspiration for his chemistry, and he ends up spending barely an hour in his lab, mostly tending to his flowers, before he decides to call it a day. 

San is back in his bedroom, and he decides to unpack his hoodie from the paper bag. His hands reach into the bag and retrieve the hoodie, and when he unfolds the hoodie, his mind immediately hazes at the scent coming off the garment. Fuck. It’s even more prominent. It’s the scent that he can’t get out of his fucking head, and now it’s pretty much in his hands. 

You smell like fucking heaven, San thinks, placing the outerwear under his nostrils once more, inhaling, the smell completely entering the crevices of his mind. He groans and curses at the way his erection is pushing against his pants just from your fucking smell. It’s more than just the detergent you use—it’s so much more intimate and intoxicating than that, and it’s undoubtedly driving San fucking crazy. He’s so sure that this is the scent that he’s been chasing after.

San walks over to his bed, comfortable on the mattress while he pushes his pants past his thick thighs, his cockhead pushing against his underwear, forming a dark and wet spot. He inhales shakily, teasing himself, the precum thickening and staining more of his underwear. It doesn’t take him long to kick off his sweats and underwear completely, letting his cock spring out with a relieved sigh, before he slowly starts fucking his hand while his other hand has his head filled with your pheromones. 

The thought of you on that rainy evening, the way the rain had drenched your white shirt through, your bra showing, cupping your tits so fucking teasingly. San wonders if you did it on purpose because he would have just ripped your shirt open right then and there. His repressed fantasies begin to bubble up—the thought of him inviting you to his unit instead, letting his hands feel you up, making sure your goosebumps are from his touches rather than the cold because he swears he can warm you up quickly. He would press himself against you, taking in your scent, before he’d slip his hands underneath your pathetic white shirt, cupping your tits, then sliding your pants off—he knows he can’t even wait till the both of you reach his bedroom—the furthest the both of you would go? The fucking couch.

Your smell floats, and it’s dragging him deeper and deeper. San bucks his hips against his hand, soft moans pouring out his lips, whining your name against the fragrant garment, his precum turning thicker by the minute. He’s liked you ever since he met you when you first moved in, and now you’re filling up every part of his olfactory senses. He’s desperate to fill you up with him, make sure you’re holding your shirt up with your teeth, your eyes filling up with tears as he slams his cock into your warm pussy, over and over, forcing yourself to stay quiet so the neighbours don’t hear.  

Fucking hell. San’s thighs shake slightly at the thought of it. He takes another inhale, and it’s like a dopamine reset once more, perfect at the moment when he’s bringing himself to the edge. Your voice echoes in his head, the pretty sounds you’d make, the expressions that he would indulge in for himself.

Thick streams of cum bubble from his silt, and he almost suffocates himself from the sick pleasure of burying his face in his hoodie drenched in your scent, he catches his breath as the scent slowly fades when he pulls the hoodie from his face, panting from an orgasm that he knows will never be enough one time. 

As San washes off his high in the warm showers, he decides to attempt to recreate your scent, wanting to keep it all for himself. And he knows just a hoodie isn’t gonna be enough.

You’ve been flipping your apartment upside down, looking for your panties. At first, you didn’t notice that one pair went missing—chalking it off as you misplacing your laundry. But when the second one you swore you dropped off in the fresh laundry hamper disappears, along with a third, you realise something was amiss. You retrace your steps—you did have a couple of people over recently, but the majority of them were your girl friends, if you minus off how you and San have been going over to each other’s places for meals ever since the both of you exchanged phone numbers. Undoubtedly, your feelings for him have grown exponentially, especially when the both of you spent time with each other in (almost) close proximity. San had always been polite and helped around with cleaning up the dishes, and he had a very endearing habit of leaning in closer to you—whether to just tease you or to hear you better—it would never fail to make you act flustered around him before you would roll your eyes and push him away. 

Needless to say, the relationship had blossomed since that rainy evening. You just didn’t expect to grow so close with your apartment complex crush, and while there were nights where San’s face, San’s voice, San’s body would bubble up to the surface when your orgasms washed over you, leaving you squirming and shy once the post nut clarity hit, you thought to yourself that the relationship between the both of you was good enough for now.

You scratch your head, racking your brains as to where your panties might have magically disappeared to. You’re lost in thought until the ping from your phone brings you out of it. You go over to check, and it’s from San—reminding you of dinner at his place. Right, the panties can wait for now. 

“I hope I’m not late”, you smile as San opens the door for you to let you in. San returns it, “No, I just placed the order. It’s gonna take awhile.” 

You take a seat on his couch. No matter how many times you’ve been to his place recently, you always feel that it’s still so spacious. 

Then he breaks your train of thought. 

“Is there something you’d like to do while waiting?” You let your eyes wander around his apartment again, and they land on the potted plants on his window sill. 

Your eyes dart away from how San is staring down—his body is facing towards you, giving you his fullest, and it’s making you slightly self-conscious. 

“I’m wondering what you’re always so busy with.”, you say. You’re ready to be rejected when San doesn’t answer right away. Right, it’s probably something personal to him too. But you can’t help but overthink when he doesn’t reply immediately sometimes. It makes you feel so childlike. 

He stands up, gesturing you to follow him. “It’s a little embarrassing”, San replies as he guides you to the tightly shut door. He presses his fingertip onto the keypad—it lights up green and San pushes the door knob down, and the door pushes open. 

It is as if it is another world. The lights are dim and the air is a lot cooler, albeit slightly more humid thanks to the myriad amount of plants littered around the room. He has so many species—differentcolours and different flowers. The scents hit you next, the floral scent floating around your nostrils at different intensities. 

“A whole nursery?” You exclaim, walking near to some of the flowers. 

“Yes and no. It’s more of a lab”, San corrects you, walking over to the heavy desk just full of lab equipment. “Sorry, it’s kinda messy.”

You shake your head, still taking in the sight of his botanically busy room, amazed. 

As you near more of the equipment, the scents grow stronger. The whole lab smells so fragrant, and you’re surprised that it’s not overpowering, to say the least. 

“So, what do you do here exactly?” You ask, taking another whiff of the fragrance while staring at the rows of test tubes before you. 

“I make scents. It’s just a side hobby of mine on top of my research”, San explains. He picks up a test tube and gestures you to take a whiff, and so you do, pleasantly surprised at how much the scent smells just like him. 

“Then what’s your little project now?” 

San pauses. He doesn’t look you in the eye for that split second. As he parts his mouth to answer, the doorbell rings, and it jumps him out of his thoughts. The food is here. 

Seated across San, as you always do, San is plating the takeout while you prepare the utensils. The topic of his lab comes up again, but you completely forget about asking about his projects.

Midway through the conversation, the rice cake that you were trying to eat somehow slips off the utensil and drops onto your clothes, causing you to jump in surprise, somehow toppling your plate with the leftover sauce, on top of staining on your clothes, much to your dismay. 

“Shit”, you curse, casting an irritated glance at the splatter on your clothes. The plate clatters on the floor. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded at the situation. You’re wondering if you should just head home to change out, considering that your unit isn’t too far from his. But before you have the chance to bring up that suggestion, San cuts you off.

“You can drop your clothes into the washing machine. In the meantime, you can borrow my hoodie. It should be on the clean laundry hamper.”

“San-“

He turns to you with a comforting smile. “It’s fine. Rice cake sauce isn’t the easiest to clean off when you leave it for too long. I’ll clean up the floor.”

You realise arguing with him isn’t work out in your favour, nor will it get the rice cake sauce off your clothes any quicker, so you decide to heed his words and head to his room.

Undressing yourself once you shut the door, you drop your soiled clothes into the washing machine. It was then you realise that you are pretty much naked, in Choi San’s fucking bedroom. Struggling to keep your head out of the gutter, you decide to focus on finding that damn grey hoodie. Your eyes scan his room, trying to search for the grey hoodie. And your eyes land on a thick-looking piece of garment on one of the laundry hampers. You walk over to pick it up.

You put his hoodie over, and there it is again—the spicy citrus smell. Choi San’s smell. Your thighs push against each other a little tighter this time. Then something in your peripherals catch your attention—a lace garment. You inch closer, and your heart drops. 

It’s a pair of lace underwear. 

Fuck. Is he seeing someone and he didn’t tell you? A thick lump forms in your throat. 

And then it goes away when you start picking up another two more panties from the hamper, and the realisation hits you like a fucking truck—these are your fucking panties. 

Things are not adding up in your brain, that’s for fucking sure. 

At that moment, San bursts into the bedroom, and a panicked expression scribbled across his face. His eyes are blown wide open when they land on the three pairs of panties in your hands. 

You stare back at him, almost mirroring his expression, the only difference being confusion for you instead. 

The corner of San’s lips pull into a half smile. “Oops.”

“San, what’s the meaning of this?” You ask, feeling your face flush rapidly. 

“Well”, San pauses. “you asked what scent I’m making next right? It’s yours.” 

“My scent?” You echo back in question to him. San sighs, his shoulders relaxing as he inches closer to you, trapping you underneath him when you finally hit his bed. 

“Yes, darling. Your scent”, his voice almost turning into a whisper, dropping octaves lower. “You’re so cruel—keeping something so intoxicating to yourself.” 

You swallow hard. San’s eyes still reflect his usual gentle demeanor, but now it’s slowly being tinted with something else. Something more ominous. Despite that, it only draws you in, like a prey being slowly hypnotized by her predator. You should be shocked, terrified even, but the only thing streaming through the nerves of your brain is the internal begging for San to just eat you up right now. 

You suddenly realise that the hoodie isn’t zipped up, the outerwear slipping down your arms. You remain still, your heartbeat slamming against your ribcage. 

“You can run out of my apartment now. I’m giving you five seconds”, San tells you, and your mind is spinning at the thought of him even giving you a chance to leave. 

Five seconds pass. You’re still staring up at the male above you, whose lips are curling into a satisfied smirk. 

His fingers cup your jaw, and he tells you, “Open up.” Sparks splatter across your eyelids the moment his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer on instinct, the feeling of his thick erection behind the two layers of fabric sending you into an orbit on top of his tongue teasing yours. He pulls back, licking off the strings of saliva between the both of you. His gaze is locked onto yours.

“Please? Let me taste you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good”, his request sounding more like a beg. Your mind is hazy. Choi San? In between your fucking legs? You swallow hard, and then you nod. 

San lowers himself to your clothed cunt, his eyes shut in bliss when he presses himself against your pussy. 

“Heaven”, is all he mutters, his eyes casting you a glazed expression that was definitely about to drive you fucking insane, before his fingers pull against the waistband of your panties, slipping them off you. 

The moment you feel his tongue press against your pussy, your mind threatens to shut off. San is breathing heavily against your soaking pussy, taking in the sight, taste, and smell of what you’re finally giving to him. Every time your thighs jerk to shut at the sensation of his tongue licking you up, his hands push you open for him forcing you to take his tongue in your cunt, and it’s wiping out any remaining rational thoughts you didn’t even know you had. 

Your fingers tug against his scalp, pushing your hips deeper onto his tongue, your back arched from how fucking good he feels. His tongue is lapping you up, teasing your clit over and over again once he hits the sweet spot, his fingers leaving imprints on your thighs when he hears you whine and moan his name. 

All San can think about is how fucking amazing you taste—he knew it would be another fucking level than pressing his nose against the fabric of your panties and fucking into his hand for the past few weeks, but actually letting you fuck his face? He’s on fucking cloud nine. 

His glazed-out eyes shift to look up at you, watching the way you’re squirming under him, the sounds of his wet tongue fucking you, tasting you, echoing around his room. Your cream and pussy are the only things he can register, and he wants to keep it for himself, forever.

“S-San-“, you cry out, your mind just threatening to blank out at every flick of his tongue. He’s building your orgasm at such a dangerous pace, and tears are pooling at the corners of your eyes when you feel something funny bubbling at the pit of your stomach. “I think I’m gonna fuck-“

“That’s it. Let it go for me. That’s a good fucking girl”, San encourages, before his tongue presses against your clit, giving you another lick before white washes over you, your cunt pulsing violently against his tongue from the sheer pleasure, then clear fluids splattering onto San’s pretty face—who seemed unfazed, considering he’s still lapping your cunt up, while you’re almost thrashing above him as the overstimulation starts to sink in. Your moans sound like cries when you beg him to stop. San doesn’t relent, and he only stops when he suddenly whimpers, switching over to kiss your thighs, decorating your plump flesh with love bites. He pushes a finger in, letting you stain and coat his fingers, enjoying your whines before he pulls out and towers over you. 

“Fuck, if I’d known you’d taste this good, I would have stolen your panties sooner”, he mutters, cleaning his fingers with his tongue, desperate to taste you again.

You’re catching your breath from going through the most mind-blowing orgasm, watching San pulling his shirt over his head, and then slipping out of his sweats, your breath caught in your throat when his fat cock comes into view, thick and heavy, and covered in thick cum. 

San’s fingers curl around your neck, and he lowers himself to litter kisses across your neck and jaw, it’s giving you goosebumps, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. 

He pauses right at the shell of your ear. 

“I want to wear you over and over again. I want to lock you up in me—bottle you up so I can keep you for myself.”

“Then do it. I’m here for you to dip into your pretty little fantasies in, San.”

You swear you see something snap in the poor male, especially from the way he takes a deep inhale—shakily— before he parts your lips with his, leaving you breathless when your little steamy make-out session ends. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, darling”, San cautions when he pulls back. His hair is tousled but fuck, he still looks so fucking good. “And I’m not stopping even if you’re screaming.”

Fuck. 

He fucks his hand, soft sighs leaving his lips, as his cum dribbles down his length, before he lines up to your hole and pushes in easily. 

You hear him groan above you, your eyes are fixated on the way he’s losing himself in your pussy, and your mind is finally growing blank the more his cock fills you up. He’s stretching you open so fucking good, filling you up to the hilt. 

“You’re squeezing me so much, darling. Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyebrows are scrunched, his hands holding your legs up while he lets you adjust to his cock. 

But he doesn’t warn you before he starts moving, his impatience completely overriding any ounce of rationale he has left in him. 

“So good. San, you feel so fucking good”, your moans sounding like cries whenever his hips snap against yours, the obscene sounds only adding to the tension. 

“You take me so fucking well, darling”, San’s voice is ringing in your ears. “Look at your fucking pussy just swallowing me up like that.” 

You don’t even reply to that, your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your head is somewhere in fucking heaven where San is definitely fucking you into. 

Just when you feel that you were about fucking fall apart on his cock, he pulls out, and you barely manage to catch your breath when San instructs you to turn over. You do, your ass up for him, and he enters your cunt once more, before fucking into you from the back. You don’t fucking know how, but you swear that his cock feels even thicker from the back.

His hands press against your hips, fucking you deep before he lets his hands slide down your body and he stops at your neck, gesturing you to look up at him as he leans down to press his lips against yours—all while rearranging your guts from the back. 

He lets you pull back when you feel your neck is growing sore, and then he puts his body weight onto you, his arm tucking underneath your neck. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me. You feel so fucking amazing”, San whispers, tickling every crevice of your brain as he presses his nose against the curve between your neck and shoulder, his thrusts turning more like ruts. The arm lock around your neck isn’t cutting off oxygen thankfully, but the thought of him choking you out only drags you closer to your high. 

“Cumming, I’m cumming San-“, you whimper, tears trickling from your eyes from how much his cock is constantly hitting in such deep fucking spots of your pussy. 

“Me too, babe. Gonna fill you up so nice and good, that’s what you’d like, right?” San teases, his cock twitching in you before he groans, his warm cum filling you up so good right at the same time your orgasm hits you once more, making you squeeze even more cum from San, perfectly milking him dry in your pussy. 

“So fucking perfect”, you hear San mutter, and you can’t help but flush, even though he just fucked every ounce of sanity out of you. His lips trail down the nape of your neck, his eyes are locked onto you, hazy and tinted with a hint of a growing obsession you could never tell. 

He’s not letting go of you. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Corporate Rivals

Bruce is really excited to hire a boy genius from a small time town. He found him by accident while scrolling through some creative writing competition past winners on various school sites. He originally wanted ideas for his own contest for the annual Wayne Young Writers Scholarship when he stumbled up Amity Parks Youth Authors.

Daniel Fenton's science fiction had won second place, and Bruce thinks he only lost due to the judges not realizing all the science of the gadgets his charaters used were real. Real, well explain and proper research. Daniel obviously knew his stuff and knew it well.

He had reached out to Daniel with a science scholarship opportunity, wanting to see what he would come up with. He gave him a basic assignment asking him to fulfill a prompt "Software or Hardware development for disabled" in either theory or model. If he created something worthwhile, Bruce would send him ten grand.

Daniel did not disappoint, not only doing the theory paper but also sending back a prototype of a pocket ASL translator. It would be an app on a phone that would have an AI watching through a camera of the person doing sign language and say out loud what the person was saying. It had a few bugs here and there, but for a high schooler, those were very impressive accomplishments.

Bruce found himself sponsoring the boy for early high school graduation. The young Fenton boy was a genius just like his parents, but he lacked proper motivation. Bruce suspected it was due to his school not challenging him enough much like Tim.

When Daniel got his diploma Bruce offered a few rid to Gotham University with the condition he would be a employee at WE. Daniel agreed under the condition it was as a proper employee and not a unpaid intern. A little daring for a kid getting already a amazing deal but Bruce liked his moxy and agreed.

Daniel Fenton was to be a worker in the RD department for WE tech in one week.

He couldn't wait to introduce him to Tim. Two young geniuses would get along swimmingly with their shared brain prowess!

______________________________________

Tim hated the new guy.

They were the same age, but everyone acted like he was amazing for finishing high school and starting university while also being a top WE reseacher and Devloper at such a young age.

Oh Tim was CEO, but as many people have whispered, he didn't graduated Highschool or have a GED so the only reason he got to be CEO was because of nepotism. Danny on the other hand got his position through hard work.

Which was ironic, seeing as the company has never done so well since Tim came on board. Their sales, PR, and production numbers all tripled because of him. Danny, on the other hand, was a sloth with little to no ambition. He didn't even work well with others! He mostly did solo projects and everyone seemed fine with that since genius "need their own space"

Tim has been networking since he was three years old, and failure to do so had always reflected badly on him and his company. He spent his entire life careful choosing his words and his actions. Even his appearance, what he wore, his hairstyle even the hand gesture when he talked, were planned before hand.

Then comes Fenton, who avoids crowds, dressed in the worst formal wear Tim has ever seen . Black jeans were not formal!- and acted like this important office was just a after school hang out spot. Now Tim was much more laid back than his board co-workers, who were all in their fifties or older, and even more relax then the mangers or superiors of lower stations but even he could not understand Fenton blaring music, bags of chips lingering everywhere and his ordination skills were none existing!

Not to mention the fact Daniel didn't believe in using computers unless he had to. His office was covered in towers of paper that he scribbled and work on! It was such a waste!

And yet, despite all of that, Daniel was rapidly becoming an asset to WE. His ASL translator app wasn't finished, but it had everyone buzzing with excitement and would be well received when it was released with Wayne Phones as a built in app.

Tim tried to avoid him as best he could least he get offended by his lack of work proper behavior

Daniel Fenton did not understand what it meant to put your all into something that you lost yourself along the way. Best to ignore him.

________________________________________

Danny couldn't stand his company CEO. Timothy Drake reminded him a little too much of the A-listers but without the bulling bit. Somehow, that made it worse.

Timothy was popular because he was well liked. He didn't need to relay on his good looks or aggression to make other yeild to him like Paulina or Dash. Even if he was ridiculously good looking to the point, Danny confused him for a siren when he met him.

He had the ability to walk into any room and take command if it. Timothy didn't even need to speak, his very presence commanded attention and awe. Not to mention how great he was at his job.

WE had always been a popular corporation but under Timothy's command they rose to one of the most important corporations in the world. Bruce Wayne was raised to run a company, Timothy Drake was born to run it. There was a large enough difference between the two that anyone could see Timothy was superior at running things.

Danny was nothing like that. He couldn't talk to people, couldn't make them like him, and often he was overlooked for his sister or his wacky but loveable parents.

He was the other Febton. The one that was there and nothing else. A few months ago he was even considered the dumb Fenton, who somehow was skipped over for intelligence.

Then he wrote a little story and everything changed.

Danny turned out to be a proper Fenton, after all, having gotten the attention of Bruce Wayne for his mind. His parents haven't been so proud of him in a long time, and he found himself accepting the job position after graduating high school early before he knew it.

Along with the job came a move to Gotham city. He went after debating it a great deal with his family and friends, but the deal was too sweet to turn down. Now he was in Gothem and he knew absolutely no one.

Danny didn't know how to make new friends here. Tucker and Sam had been the ones to approach him at the beginning of their friendships. He also was scared of getting close to his co-worker less they suspect his Phantom powers.

He knew that Metas was not welcome, and he thought Batman wouldn't care that he was technically dead and not with a meta gene.

So he focused on his work, avoiding large crowds and keeping his head down. He would turn on music to help pass the loneliness and would gater papers to write down his thoughts less they made him mad by running around his head all day.

This anxious insecurity was something Timothy Drake would never understand. He just shone like a fallen star, dazzling the masses with his neat press suits, easy charisma, and intelligent bedroom eyes. Best to ignore him.

________________________________________

Dick never really ventured to WE now that he moved out. He made a habit of trying to visit Tim every two weeks for lunch to fix this. He also really wanted to spend more one on one time with his little brother now that they reconsidled from Bruce's timeline fiasco.

He was still well known by the employees, even new ones, so when Dick arrived to the lobby he was waved in by security. The receptionists were all huddled together muttering to eachother and missed his entrance since security didn't call out to him.

Dick could tell the gossip they were talking about was juicy based on the way Lola was wiggling her eyebrows and Stacy and Isaiah's reaction.

He creeps closer to the front desk, hoping to hear something good.

"Isn't that against the rules?" Isaiah asks.

"WE doesn't have anything like that. Not since Thomas Wayne married his old PA and had Bruce. I think it's cute that Mr.Drake is following in his adoptive Grandfather's footsteps."

Dick paused, shocked. Tim liked someone at WE!?

"They aren't even dating yet, Lola"

"Yeah but you can cut the sexual tension with a- Mr. Grayson! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. How can I help you?"

Dick blinks. "Oh I'm here to see Tim for lunch. But what was that about Tim you were saying?"

The woman pales as the other two quickly become busy with some email or another.

"Oh, um, I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't have -"

"It's fine I don't mind a little chat between co-workers. I'm just curious"

Lola stares before nervously blurting "Rumor has it that um, Mr.Drake has a thing for Daniel Fenton"

"The new boy genius?" Dick thinks about it considering what he knows of Tim's type and his past preferences in partners before nodding "That tracks actually"

He says his thanks and hurries away to Tim's office unaware he may have confirmed a relationship between Tim and Danny.

The gossip circles in WE exploded with the news everyone careful not to let the two subjects hear a whisper.

[xomakara]

Movie Night Mischief

SUMMARY | You go on tour with your best friends, Mark and Jaemin. You're watching a movie with them one night, when things take an unexpected turn.

PAIRINGS |  Mark x Reader x Jaemin

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  idol!Mark, idol!Jaemin, non-idol!Reader, smut, threesome

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, threesome, female masturbation, fingering, blowjobs, double penetrative sex (vaginal/anal), unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  5,194 words

TAGLIST |  @shuadotcom

NETWORKS |   @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I was inspired to write this because of this video. I would have happily sat my ass down lol. MarkMin has been gracing my feed and I'm going absolutely feral over them. Thank you @shadowkoo for the beautiful banner! I'm absolutely in love with it. I hope you all love this fic~ 💚

"Where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, staring down at your two best friends.

Mark and Jaemin looked up at you standing in front of them with a bowl of popcorn. The boys, seemingly forgetting you, exchanged a look. When you were asked to join NCT Dream on tour for TDS3, you jumped at the chance to be a part of the staff, though they were asking a lot more of you than you had originally agreed. All the members had grown close to you throughout your time working as a stylist throughout the years and you became close friends with Mark and Jaemin especially.

And though you knew that relationships could cause problems, not everyone could say the same and your crush on both of them had not gone unnoticed, unfortunately. If Jeno had picked up on it then, the rest had as well, seeing that Haechan teased you the most about your secret crushes. The boys were playing it like they didn't know, but it was very apparent they knew and used any and every moment to torment you. But you weren't sure if Mark and Jaemin knew about your crush on either of them.

"What do you think? Just sit here," Jaemin gestured for you to go ahead and take the place between the two as he patted a little. "Go on, don't make us stop our movie marathon."

With a small scoff, you decided to squeeze into the tiny spot between them. You rolled your eyes, while popping the pieces of popcorn into your mouth. Mark snickered before stretching his arm along the back of the couch so that it could be comfortably placed around your shoulders. Your friend nuzzled himself a bit closer into you until you could feel the heat from his body.

"Ah... this is much better," Jaemin mumbled to no one in particular. You ignored him, as he stretched his arm in the other direction, draping his body even closer. Now you were smothered by both boys and, in turn, the musky, familiar scent of them.

Mark hummed as well as he started eating his own popcorn, and watched the film in front of the television. "Right?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your lips. "What are we watching anyway?"

Mark shrugged. "Honestly, no clue."

"Jaem?" you turned to Jaemin on your left.

The male sighed, "No idea."

"Great," You deadpanned, "I should just leave."

Jaemin shook his head, "Oh no, no... if we're watching, so are you. Now sit your ass down." 

He yanked you back down on the couch and you crossed your arms across your chest. "I should have gone to hang out with Jeno and Haechan instead of spending my time with y'all."

"Excuse you," Jaemin laughed. "You know you'd rather be here with us. Right, Mark?"

"And here we thought you were our best friend!" Mark faked shock, widening his eyes, and opening his mouth with fake hurt.

You shoved the bucket of popcorn in front of his face. "Shut up, and just eat the popcorn."

Mark continued to chomp down the popped kernels and you tried your best not to roll your eyes again, the soft movie sounds humming from the TV. You peeked to see what Jaemin was up to. His eyes were glued on the movie, his fingers picking up a single kernel from the bowl that sat on your thighs and popping it into his mouth. You weren't aware of the soft thumps inside your chest at the simple, innocent, action he had done. Your eyes flickered to his lips that parted with each bite of the snack, the movement almost teasing. He didn't even spare a glance in your direction and you felt that was a good thing.

Mark reached over to pick up a single piece of popcorn too. His hand briefly rested on top of your thigh when he brought it back over. It was a completely accidental and friendly gesture but somehow, you wished that it meant a little more than a harmless, kind movement. His hand had been soft on top of your knee and then slowly crawled up a bit higher than his initial resting place. Your breathing quickened slightly and you bit on your lower lip, glancing at him from your periphery. 

Mark's eyes were on the television but his fingers drummed against the spot on your bare leg where your shorts had ridden up a bit from the position you were in. His thumb tickled the area around the skin and he casually placed a single kernel onto his waiting tongue. Your lips were dry, so you ran your tongue across them to add some moisture. He sucked his thumb into his mouth briefly, making sure the digit was cleaned of any salt he hadn't eaten.

With your eyes trained on the TV, you brought a popcorn piece into your mouth and chewed it thoroughly. There was no need to overthink your feelings for Mark and Jaemin. These feelings would die off in no time.

Little did you know they were gonna be harder to hide.

The movie you were watching started to become a bit risqué. There was a sex scene involved and suddenly you were the one shifting uncomfortably. What was even the name of the movie they had chosen again? You couldn't recall. But apparently, Mark couldn't either, his face scrunching a bit at the scene playing out in front of him.

Jaemin reached over to the bowl and grabbed another piece. You peeked at his side profile and sighed when you knew he was fully engulfed into the movie. Then your attention shifted over to Mark. His brows knitted and he was still chewing the popcorn, eyes watching the TV intently. If you stared hard enough, you could see the subtle flush along his face.

The sound of moaning soon reached your ears and your skin started prickling with nervousness. The sex scenes should not affect you this way—even though it had been a long time since you had experienced an orgasm or someone had fucked you. In fact, you wanted one of those right now. Your stomach was coiling, hot and heavy, as you got hot and bothered from the scene. The actor's heavy panting rang clearly in your ears, causing your mind to think lewd thoughts. You shuffled and you were already uncomfortable under their gaze, your breathing coming out a little heavier than normal.

"You good there, Y/N?" The low, raspy voice of Mark entered your hearing. You cleared your throat and slowly nodded, unable to look into his eyes.

"I'm fine," you squeaked. There was a subtle nod of your head. Mark simply let it go as he kept his eyes in front and you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. With another attempt to look forward, the erotic visuals filled your eyes. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip when the loud groans vibrated throughout the room.

Oh how badly you wished one of them was kissing along the length of your neck, grazing the delicate skin with their teeth and leaving possessive marks on it. Your pulse picked up at the thought, heart pounding hard and fast against your chest as you could feel something pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

Jaemin and Mark were surely doing no better.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mark subtly adjusting the semi-hard-on forming in his pants. He cursed softly under his breath, the neediness in his voice loud and clear and fuck, if that didn't get you dripping wetter. Jaemin was seemingly worse because you could actually see the tent in his sweats—it wasn't huge but it was just enough to know he was somewhat aroused by this scene. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth, dark eyes intensely focused on the film.

The moaning just increased from the actors. That sound plus the slick sounds of cock and pussy hitting each other was too much. God, you wanted them. They were so fucking handsome, perfect in every way and their ethereal voices made you quiver with want. The sensation between your legs was making the rational thoughts in your head start to dissipate and was clouded with the need to touch Mark, to kiss Mark, to touch Jaemin, to kiss Jaemin.

So, when one of the characters ended the sex scene by moaning the name of their partner loudly, you couldn't hold it anymore. You grabbed onto one of their sleeves and pulled. Mark and Jaemin broke from their lustrous state and they met your flushed and flustered state.

"Fuck me, please. Right now," your words were breathy, rushed and impatient as your chest rapidly heaved from the pent up frustration and arousal coursing through your body. Your knuckles tightened their grip on their shirt, pulling them closer to you as their brows twitched upwards with lust. "I need one of you, right now."

Without hesitation, Jaemin leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss while Mark maneuvered his face and mouth next to your ear to let his hot breath hit the delicate skin and whisper sinfully lewd and naughty thoughts into your ears. He began by nibbling your earlobe before planting soft kisses. Then he grazed along the shell with his tongue and the side of his mouth.

The kiss Jaemin and you were sharing was wild with just pure unadulterated lust. You slid your fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, lightly gripping it to bring him closer. Both of your heads shifted and tilted with each lick and bite. Occasionally your lips would detach for a few seconds so you could both catch your breaths. Mark turned your head towards him and captured your lips in his to break yours and Jaemin's connection. It was a warm embrace at first before Jaemin attached his wet and swollen lips onto your neck, licking and sucking with the utmost intent to mark.

Mark's and your kisses were sloppy, wet and rough. The nipping of your bottom lips, the suckling on your tongue and the slurring moans and groans echoed into the shared space of the hotel room. After what seemed to last an eternity, the three of you pulled apart and caught your breath.

"Y/N…" Mark spoke into your ear. Your name sent goosebumps all over your skin as his husky voice reverberated in your hearing. "Baby girl, you know this will change things between the three of us, right? It won't just stop at today."

The palm of his hand slid along your bare skin and it caused the hairs on your skin to stand. He had gotten underneath your t-shirt, thumbing the edge of your shorts, ready to dip it in. He needed some form of consent—as did Jaemin who stared deeply into your eyes, and sucked a red mark on the exposed skin above your t-shirt collar, rubbing soothing circles to calm your nerves.

This was what you wanted—to be touched, kissed, worshipped, by these two. Mark and Jaemin wouldn't do this unless you asked for it. And the thing is, you really did want this. To be touched by the both of them, their hands roaming all over, and giving you so much pleasure it was just enough for a whole week's worth of work.

You leaned back on Mark, head thrown over his shoulder to reach his waiting lips with yours. A hand tugged at Jaemin's neck so you could look straight at him when you agreed.

"I do... now do whatever the hell you want to me," you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.

"Wanna get your sweet and pretty little ass up on the bed and put on a show for us? We wanna see you play with that pretty pussy for us. Put those beautiful fingers inside that soaking and leaking cunt of yours," Jaemin whispered.

Fuck. That was hot.

You shuddered as you stood up and removed the clothes you were wearing. Then you slowly moved up onto the bed until you were propped on your elbows in the center, looking at Mark and Jaemin with a needy yet playful gaze. 

"We want to watch you finger that sweet, juicy cunt. Please, baby," Jaemin requested in his usual honey tone. But it was different, lower, darker and raspier and holy shit if that didn't light the fire of horniness all over in you. You would say Mark and Jaemin could make the dirtiest things sound like pure heaven. 

Hands tugging on the waistband of your panties, you slipped the small piece of clothing off in a painstakingly slow fashion. When that was done, your fingers ghosted on the outline of your mound, following your hand down, as the two men watched intensely. This continued until your digits swirled over your entrance and when it came across a pool of wetness that was spreading steadily and causing your thighs to clench.

Mark groaned loudly, a low, strangled sound, his eyes staring at you in such a way that made you feel utterly devoured. Your pussy tightened as your gaze found Jaemin as he drew his eyes away from the apex of your thighs to stare directly at you and God did you want them, so, so badly.

Mark and Jaemin crawled onto the bed until their presence loomed over your smaller figure.

"Sweetheart, please stick those pretty fingers inside your delicious and soaked pussy. The sooner the better," Mark muttered.

You listened to Mark and shoved your finger into you, your walls tightening immediately around the new feeling. There was a little groan escaping you, too—pure ecstasy. There was nothing more than being fingered and eaten out.

The moan encouraged the males and both started to divest themselves, losing their shirts, sweatpants and boxers, revealing their erect and proud cocks. Precum glistened on the red tip of their cocks, your eyes fixating on the two members and fuck you couldn't believe how lucky you were right now. You took in every last detail of them and damn, it only caused your arousal to become ten times better. 

Jaemin smirked before speaking. "Put another finger inside that little tight cunt."

You complied with his words by adding in a second finger. A sinful mewl resounded in the quiet room. 

Jaemin tutted. "What a naughty little girl, I bet I know what she's thinking of right now."

Mark paused, seeming to ponder before speaking. "Something like getting her mouth on our dicks. Don't you agree, Jaem? To have those plump lips stretched to their limit and moaning as she tastes us on her tongue. Having both of us choke her with our cocks."

There was a purr of approval and an adorable hum. "Mmh, she'd look so cute too." 

Fuck.

This time Jaemin was the one groaning, as both watched you moving your fingers in and out of your hole, your wet and glistening juices practically coating every part of your lower lips. The slide of your fingers in and out was delicious, but it would feel even better when Mark's and Jaemin's dicks would enter you instead. Your nipples tingled as they grew taut and stiff while a needy ache pulsated with growing heat and force.

It was arousing.

It was hot.

And so damn alluring.

"Such a needy little girl," Mark commented and both Jaemin and him now gripped their cocks.

The sight of their leaking and dripping dicks triggered something in you, you could feel yourself dripping as your insides clenched around the two fingers inserted inside and out. But God, were they still not enough. Your thumb moved over to your swollen clit. That bundle of nerves finally got the attention it deserved and you were crying and releasing a low and loud mewl as waves of pleasure vibrated from inside. It was good, very good.

But it still wasn't enough.

No. You wanted more.

"Fuck. That's not—fuck—enough," your voice strained at the end of your sentence as you were heavily panting.

"Tell us what you want," Jaemin stated low and huskily, "Baby, we'll give it to you if you just tell us."

"Your mouths and fingers—" you rasped, gasping between every word, "in…in me."

Mark cooed softly and reached over to cup your cheek with a rough palm. The contact alone made you melt in bliss.

"We can do that baby," Mark pressed his lips briefly to your lips before moving back. "How about Jaemin eats you out while I fill this pretty little mouth of yours with my cock and give you what you desire?"

Your cunt throbbed hard at the mention. That's exactly what you wanted. You removed your fingers and whined softly as that gaping and emptiness could be felt. Mark crawled up to your face with a knowing smile, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. He positioned himself over your mouth until his hardened cock was directly over your lips, dripping down precum.

Without delay, you licked it up. The salty flavor and the heavy weight in your mouth made you suckle hard and you gained an animalistic groan from above you. While you tended to Mark, you felt a tongue against your slit as your taste filled his mouth. Jaemin wasted no time in deep-thrusting his tongue past the folds to plunge into your core and groaning at the slick mess already drenching you. His eagerness, and hot tongue massaging against your entrance and folds made you shake, sucking on Mark's cock faster.

Jaemin's hands spread your legs a little wider, your thighs flexing hard and you tried to keep them that way. Your body jerked and jolted every time his lips would lap against your sensitive bud, rolling your hard clit against your teeth. Mark continued to thrust his hips shallowly, unable to keep from fully fucking into the soft and wet depths of your hot mouth.

"You're so good for us, aren't you Y/N?" Mark praised, running a gentle hand through your hair and grinning when he felt your eyes open to look up at him through your eyelashes. "Take every inch, you pretty thing. Stay like that. Take all of me."

Your mouth continued to service him until your gaze rose up and looked at Mark above your frame.

Oh fuck! He looked ethereal—that beautiful, handsome and well-built body covered with a sheen layer of sweat. His throat bobbing from the moans. Those lean yet muscular arms stretched over you, firm and lean. Oh how badly you want to feel that skin. Your whole body is ignited by every touch of those muscular palms. It drove you mad, the scent of his arousal strong.

His lips slightly parted and his jaw muscles straining with restraint, "Fuck. Fuck, Y/N. Y-your mouth."

Without warning, Mark snapped his hips and pushed his full length in, the abrupt action having you gag and wince. His apology fell on deaf ears as you enjoyed the cock stuffed inside your mouth, throbbing on your tongue. Jaemin followed suit as you bucked your hips a little harshly into his mouth, grinding your pussy into him as fast as you could. Your desperation increased as your eyes caught the vision of Jaemin's perfect form between your thighs, his dark head of hair bouncing up and down. Jaemin removed his mouth momentarily, his saliva mixed with your wetness being lapped up. He hummed. "Holy fuck, sweetness. Your pussy tastes so divine. I can't get enough."

Jaemin placed his thick and hot tongue back onto your clit, swirling the muscle against that nerve ending and sucking simultaneously while two fingers roughly slid into you and pumped into a rhythm.

You were reaching a point of oversensitivity, body wrecked under the actions of both Mark and Jaemin, leaving you trembling with carnality.

"So fucking wet. Baby is squeezing my fingers so tight. Will she squeeze around my dick next time?" Jaemin commented while smirking and taking another look at your pussy. He placed a final kiss on your clit before pulling out and planting another onto the fluttering folds and sat back on his heels, as his attention turned towards Mark who was in the same state. Both nodded and removed themselves.

Mark moved over to take Jaemin's spot, his face gliding over the exposed skin of your sides with kisses, until he arrived at your heat. Mark took some seconds to admire the delicious mess which is between your thighs, your swollen lips all dripping in juices. You let out a piteous and faint noise, your neglected cunt flexing over thin air and gifting him with a burst of wetness. 

"Mark, please," your voice was barely recognizable even to your own ears, having lost count of how many times you pleaded. Mark just quirked a dark brow at you.

"Let me taste you a bit first and then you can have my dick," And then his tongue sunk inside, licking up any moisture accumulated. You clawed the bed sheets under the sheer sensation of the heat pooling, curling and breaking your body apart like a bomb. Fingers returned to your pussy, turning every single movement and motion agonizingly intense. 

Fucking intense.

"Please," you wail as your hands dart through his hair, "fuck. Stop teasing. Want your cock. In my pussy. Now, please, now, please, Mark. Please."

"And me, sweet pea?" Jaemin husked at the last syllables before fluttering his long lashes up and down.

"Please. Wanna cum. With both of you." Your voice hitches an octave higher and breathier by the end of the request.

"Anything for our girl," Mark says calmly as he moved away from you.

Jaemin was lying on the mattress, as you crawled your way up him before sinking down, the both of you relishing the feeling. His cock pulsed into your needy and drenched core, the way the plump head spread through your walls.

He then bottomed out, the smooth motion filling you full, full, full. It was a stretch and you loved it. Jaemin, a handsome angel and the epitome of the dream guy everyone could and should ever dream of was buried deep within you.

"Shit, baby. Can you feel my cock, stuffing you up and getting you all wet inside? Fuck. This pretty pussy can't handle this big cock, can you?" Jaemin growled lustfully. "Do you want Mark to fuck your tight ass, baby? Bet that little asshole of yours would stretch so wide. So fucking perfectly."

"Yes," you practically sobbed, the vision only spurring on the all consuming urgency surging through your nerves. "Yes, I need you and Mark to stuff me full…so damn full. Please."

Mark smirked and produced a bottle of lube he picked up from somewhere, before pouring a generous amount over his fingers and dick. After slicking it up, his fingers travelled to your hole, tracing the sensitive entrance before stretching it with his fingers and loosening it until it relaxed. When he noticed your squirming and pleading for his cock to go in, that was when Mark began sinking his hard member in until there was nothing left but his hip and your ass.

The feel of his dick spreading open your inner walls and burying deeply sent shudders through your whole being. The sensation of your holes stretching at both ends made your chest heave.

"Shit," both Mark and Jaemin ground out, coming down from the immediate wave of pure bliss enveloping the three of you.

For a moment they let you adjust, until the buildup of desire in all three of you started to become too much to bear. When they noticed the whimpering noises, they immediately picked up the pace, Mark and Jaemin rolling their hips and snapping in an irregular rhythm.

The both of them were talking now, filthy, lude praises, lewd moans, dirty whispers and naughty nothings in between grunts and sighs and praise. You heard snippets like how gorgeous and perfect you are. How well you are doing. How much of a fucking beautiful kitten and how perfect you look being taken by them. Both dicks deep and pumping hard, the gliding motion pulling frictionless strokes.

"What a perfect pussy and what a sexy little ass. Gonna ruin both and make sure you can't ever think or walk normally. Gonna make you ours," Jaemin grinded hard.

"Feels so good...you both feel so fucking good," was the response he got from you, accompanied by mewls. "Fu-ck. Shit. Please. Harder."

"How does Mark feel, baby?" Jaemin coos softly, petting your hair slightly as if rewarding a good kitty.

"Good," you sighed, "good, he's really filling me and stretching me."

Mark's groans grew more heated at the confirmation, snapping his hips and pelvis. He leaned in and grunted more erotic words. "You're taking us so well, baby. You're gonna be walking crooked and sore after we're done with you."

"We need her to know we're never letting her go," Jaemin mused.

Your high-pitched screams reverberated off the walls, bouncing into Mark and Jaemin's ear, causing them to chuckle. Your eyes closed to concentrate on the way Mark and Jaemin could command a good and nice pace.

It was intense and erotic.

It was messy and hot.

It was unravelling.

It was sheer pleasure.

You were being consumed whole.

"Baby, your moans," Mark stated breathily. "Such sweet, heavenly and pleasing noises. And that's coming from us. From two cocks filling both of those delicious holes."

"Be louder," Jaemin suggests. "Scream for us louder. Let the rest of the members know who's making you feel this good. That you're only ours."

You squeaked as Mark brushed your hair gently to the side so that he could kiss the nape of your neck and collarbone. His touches were electric as his palm rubbed and squeezed the swell of your breasts and caressed your body sensually. He switched it up occasionally, applying light kitty licks and bites and harsh sucks, taking note of your sweet noises and what parts of you brought forth that sort of reaction. You squirmed against the sheets, one hand gripping the cotton of your pillow tightly, the other draped on Jaemin's bicep.

"Fuck," you whimper as they kept pumping mercilessly, pleasure unfurling and rolling inside you, unfocused with nowhere to go. "Shit. Fuck."

"Tell us what you want Y/N," It was a low rumble coming from Jaemin. "Just say it."

"I—I wanna cum," you whimpered.

"We want that too, baby," Mark mumbles right into your ear. His breathing sounds jagged. You're pretty sure you weren't the only one going out of your mind with anticipation. "Cum for us, baby."

"Y-yes. A-ah…ha…" You whine, choking up a throaty scream as the loud squelch echoed along the room in the rhythm of the pounding, joined by a deep grunt here and there from Jaemin and Mark. "M-Mark, please...Jaem...J-just."

"That's a good girl," Mark states as his palms massage the curves and dips of your body as Jaemin takes turns running his teeth and lips against the side of your neck and over your delicate shoulder, rough and passionate. 

"Take every inch, beautiful. We'll leave you satiated and stuffed full. Mark is gonna fill your tight ass full of cum, whilst I cum deep inside your lovely pussy," Jaemin huskily added, voice dark and coarse.

You groaned, keenly aware of how full and hard they are inside of you. Oh how badly you wanted the boys to reach their peaks. How you wished Mark and Jaemin's powerful bodies would shudder and convulse as euphoric pleasure ripped through. How badly you wanted Mark and Jaemin's expressions twisted into sweet bliss and then dissolved in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby. We're right here," Mark soothed, voice dripping with affection and fondness, "Take all the pleasure you can get."

"Oh, shit. So good. Yes. Shit!" you finally reach your limit and tip over the edge, gushing and convulsing with a loud drawn-out whimper.

Both Mark and Jaemin fuck you right through it, milking both orgasms. They only lasted a few minutes longer, finally spilling and letting ropes of cum paint and coat your insides. Mark groaned from above you, a sound so sexual and captivating and Jaemin stifled a moan in the crook of your neck. They kept their cocks for a minute and came down from their respective highs before withdrawing from both stretched holes. Cum dribbled down your lower lips, pooling the bed sheets.

There was a silence before Jaemin and Mark cuddled closer to you from each side, the both of them panting heavily until the room was filled with deep inhales and exhales.

"Can…we do that again?" You manage to voice, surprising Jaemin and Mark with the bold statement.

They responded by bursting into soft chuckles. Jaemin made a noise. "That's asking a bit too soon, isn't it princess?"

"No…like, during your tours, when we go back home. In your free time.  I-If it's not inconvenient with schedules, of course," you rush out. 

Mark raised his brows. "Are you sure, Y/N?"

"Uh, y-yeah," you gulp a breath. "I really enjoyed this. But only if you want to as well."

"Believe me princess," Jaemin purred softly. "We love being with you as much as you love being with us."

"Of course we would like to. Our place is with you no matter what," Mark interjects, his soft hands smoothing down your messy and sweaty hair before slipping an arm around you and pulling you against his warmth. The affection made you blush even more. Mark nudges his nose and kisses the top of your head. “Besides, I did say this was going to change between the three of us right? That this won't stop at today.”

"Who would have thought that I'd fuck my best friends," you breathe out, staring at the ceiling in complete bliss.

"We should have done this a long time ago. Next time we do this again, let's bring Jeno with us," Jaemin admits cheekily, the utter statement catching you by surprise.

You slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir. How bold."

Mark laughed. "I don't think I want to share Y/N with the others, Jaemin. Only us two are enough for this lovely lady."

"Ah, I'm kidding," Jaemin winks before tilting his head. "Mostly." He wags his brows playfully, making you groan and hit him lightly. Jaemin grinned before dragging your palm and placing a kiss on the inside of it. "Relax baby, you have our hearts wrapped around your finger."

Mark hummed in agreement and buried his face into the crook of your neck and placed a tender, heartfelt kiss and patted your thighs. He mumbles sleepily into your ear and you hear Jaemin repeating the gesture, the two voices simultaneously filling your eardrums. "We're yours, and you are ours. I'm sure this is going to be the start of something new and good. Don't worry." 

You relaxed, letting their breathing and the warmth of their skin lull you to a peaceful sleep, right alongside them and in their arms.

[chilling-seavey]

Enchanté (gr63)

↳ A/N Desperate to get back into posting my writing on here. Please take this 25,000 words of straight filth as my first solo George writing on my blog. How the times have changed. How I have grown.

↳ Summary: On a brief business trip to Paris, you find yourself enamoured with this handsome stranger and the fleeting promises he offers in the city of love

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Stranger!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 24.5k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, basically pwp, one night stand, use of explicit language, oral (f & m receiving), rimming, exhibitionism, minor anal play, choking, spitting, spanking, some biting, squirting, overstimulation, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), George has a (very skilled) dirty fucking mouth, unprotected sex (and unprotected creampie...whoops)

The crowded Parisian bar was riddled with tourists who strived pathetically to appear as locals. From your spot at the bartop, you had a view of the classy interior that surrounded you and you found yourself people watching over your icy alcoholic drink for some entertainment that wasn’t the lively jazz music that filled the quaint venue. Your black heels hooked effortlessly on the foot rest of the leather bar stool and you haphazardly stirred your straw around your glass as your gaze passed over the crowd aimlessly before you turned to look over your other shoulder. 

You weren’t overly familiar with traveling by yourself but when your company offered you an all expenses paid trip to Paris to network for the firm, you could never dream of declining. It had only been for a long weekend and as Saturday night was progressing, the realization that your short-lived trip to Europe was coming to a close was settling on your conscience. Although a little lonely, you had no complaints, and you decided to locate a bar to celebrate a successful business trip with a well deserved drink or two. 

When the bartender walked up to you on the opposite side of the bar top, you glanced up at him just as he set another glass in front of you. Before you could remind him that you didn’t order another, he gestured farther down the bar and told you politely, “From that gentleman.”

He disappeared and you followed where he had pointed to locate the stranger who had bought you another drink. The empty stools that lingered between you felt almost meant to be as the vast expanse of bar made the otherwise crowded place feel like it was only you present. Said gentleman sent you a warm smile as he lounged meticulously on his own barstool, nursing an icy drink of his own, with his light hair styled in neat perfection and his collared shirt ironed crisply and tucked into slacks. You felt silly that you hadn’t noticed him before - his handsome good looks were enough to take your breath away for a moment - but maybe the intrigue of pathetic strangers pitched more entertainment than anything else. 

You sent him a polite smile back and a silent slight nod in appreciation as you swapped out your nearly empty glass for the fresh one. He took that as his invitation and stood from his stool to make his way over to you and you looked away to keep from staring at him as he approached. 

When he was beside you, he spoke gently, his voice smooth and rich in an accent that was too British to be a local, “Hope that wasn’t too forward of me…sending a beautiful stranger a drink from down the bar.”

You allowed yourself to look up at him with a polite smile, finding yourself warm under his handsome gaze, and you replied, “Not at all. I’m flattered.”

He gestured to the free stool to your right, “May I?”

You nodded and permitted him to join you. 

Once he sat and set his own drink down on the bar, he offered his hand out to you, introducing himself as George. You politely took his handshake and introduced yourself in return, to which he let his hand linger in yours for a moment as a friendly smile pricked at his lips. 

“What brings you to Paris?” he inquired.

He was facing towards you on the stool as if in a subconscious way of telling you that you had his full attention. You nursed the icy glass in your hand and let the cold condensation seep into your clammy palm as you told him about your business trip and your luxury design firm that paid for most of it. He was tickled impressed by that and pressed on about how the city was treating you and how you were managing there for the weekend. 

“You’re talking to me like a local, but you don’t sound French.” you noted aloud, “So might I ask what brings you to Paris?”

George smiled faintly to the bar top as if he had been caught red handed, but he played it off with a modest shrug before looking back at you and answering your question, “Work, too. I’ve been here a few weeks just taking in the sights and letting the feel of the city feed my creativity.”

“Are you an artist?” you asked. 

“More of an appreciator.” he stepped over the question before turning the conversation back to you, “Have you been able to see much outside of your tight schedule this weekend?”

You didn’t press him further about his personal life but you didn’t mind sharing some of yours, “A little, but not as much as I’d have hoped. It’s my last night so I’m afraid I might have to book a separate trip to see the sights like a real tourist.”

“Too bad.”

“I know. Then I’d have to pay for the trip myself and no one has that kind of money.”

“Do they not?”

You sent him a pointed gaze but his borderline ignorant statement was countered by his wide teasing smile. 

He sipped his drink. You sipped yours. 

Despite the fact that you were virtually strangers, you found yourself trusting him and you didn’t turn away his questions about you or your life even when he stepped around your inquiries in return. You spoke about art and fashion and design and shared thoughts on recent events and fads. His answers seemed to be shallow and simple but he pressed for depth with yours, luring you into more descriptions of architecture and design and artwork that spoke to you. He was hanging onto your every word, resting on his arm on the bar top with his aquamarine eyes staring unwaveringly into yours like there was no one else in the room. 

Who was this handsome stranger and why was his attention sending butterflies through your stomach?

You found yourselves wasting an hour in that bar with the strangers you once watched fading into the background noise of the jazz music that surrounded you. After a weekend alone, it felt nice to have company and you made sure to tell him just that amidst a momentary lull in your conversation. 

George gave you a smile and dusted his fingertips over your arm, sending shivers up your spine, as he said, “Can I take you to see some sights before you have to leave?”

“It’s kind of late for things to be open, is it not?”

“Not when you know your way around.” he countered. 

You contemplated his offer since he was truly still a stranger, but you were in the city of love and he seemed respectful enough and you found yourself meeting his smile with your own, “Alright.”

George stood from his bar stool and took his wallet from his back pocket to slide his credit card over the counter towards the bartender. He then offered out his hand to you, “Shall we?”

You carefully set your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours so naturally, and you replied softly, “We shall.” 

He helped you off the bar stool and the bartender returned his card to him and George thanked him, pocketed the card, and then gestured you towards the entrance of the bar. 

“I haven’t paid yet.” you protested quietly. 

“I paid for you.” George set his hand faintly on the small of your back, “Now come on.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” you replied bashfully as you made your way through the narrow bar and the crowds of late night patrons towards the door. “I wasn’t-”

“My pleasure.” he insisted, cutting you off with a smile. 

He opened the door for you and you stepped outside into the crisp spring air. George was close behind you and soon you were walking side by side down the Paris sidewalks and passing many closed storefronts and lively nightlife restaurants and bars that lined the streets. The dark sky above was polluted with the city light but you still inhaled the lingering scent of French pastries and wines that made up the city of culture and dreams. You habitually tucked your arms over your chest as you walked, trying to keep yourself in that moment.

“Cold?” George asked. 

“No. I’m okay.” you replied. 

“I’d offer a jacket but I don’t have one on me either.” he chuckled. 

You smiled to the cobblestones for a moment.

Your footsteps fell in steady time against the quiet streets together, walking among the gorgeous architecture side by side with the warmth of alcohol in your veins. With your arms still crossed over your chest, you looked over at George again to speak, “Do I get to know where you’re taking me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered. 

“Well, knowing that I have said yes to going out with some stranger in the middle of the night in a strange city…I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just giving you a perfect excuse to kill me.”

George replied without missing a beat, “You’re too pretty to kill.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, “thanks, I think.” 

You looked at each other from equal heights and you shared tipsy little smiles and he bumped your arm playfully so you knew he was teasing. 

He led the way through the historic streets of Paris and down a few blocks until you reached a spacious green area and he stepped off the path and onto the grass, helping you step over the short rope fence that divided the sidewalk from the gardens. You found thrill in the feeling of his hand in yours so you didn’t pull away, even once you were safely stable on the grass alongside him. George let you hold his hand and his other slid into the pocket of his trousers as you walked side by side slowly. 

The city felt so vacant and yet so full of life all in the same. It was dreamy. George tilted his head back to breathe in the nighttime air and he let it out with a hearty sigh. 

“Nothing like being buzzed while walking through the streets of Paris to make you really feel alive.” he announced. 

You giggled softly and nudged yourself against his arm, finding yourself staying warm from his presence and from the alcohol that had taken to your system, “Very true.”

Straight ahead, at the far end of the lengthy green space you strolled down, the Eiffel Tower stood out from the inky night sky backdrop out in its trims of gold lights and iron. It was nearly breathtaking and you felt the excitement in your chest as you mentally checked a sight off your bucket list. You had only seen it in passing on your short and extremely busy trip to Paris so this was your first time actually having a chance to admire the beauty of its architecture. Better late than never. 

George led you to a nearby bench that faced towards the monumental structure and, without letting go of your hand, you took a seat together. The silence was peaceful between you for a few minutes, both of you just staring up at the Eiffel Tower glittering before you, just living in the moment with a friendly stranger at your side. A few people strolled past in the dark, making their way to their own late night destinations and a couple groups even stopped for pictures of the Tower before continuing on. Seemed as though you were the only two willing to sit and appreciate the man-made beauty with your eyes rather than your cell phones.

When George's hand left yours, you glanced over at him just as he draped his arm over the back of the bench behind you without tearing his eyes away from the beauty of world-renowned architecture. But at the feeling of your eyes on him, he looked at you too, sharing a calm smile through the peaceful night and you naturally felt yourself ease back into the curve of his arm. 

“This okay?” you asked softly, hesitantly. 

“Yeah.” George answered just as gently. “What do you think of our destination?”

You tore your eyes away from his handsome face to look up to the Eiffel Tower again and, with a small smile, you responded, “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s usually so crowded during the day…it’s nice to come past at night and just take a second to sit with your thoughts.”

“I was worried I’d miss my chance to see it.” you confessed. 

“Good thing you chose to go drinking instead then.” George teased. 

You scrunched up your nose with a faint giggle, “Shush.”

He lifted his hand from the bench and gently brushed his fingers through your hair before setting his arm properly around your shoulders. You could feel the shivers down your spine from more than just the chilly night time breeze and you felt your attention drawing to his gaze again. Had he always been that close? Maybe you should have figured he would be since you had gladly leaned into him when you sat down but now you were much more attuned to the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. He was no more than a stranger to you but there was a pull in your chest to learn more, to figure him out. 

“Why don’t you talk about yourself?” you asked him quietly. 

He shrugged and glanced back towards the Eiffel Tower, “I don’t think there’s much to say. I’d much rather listen to you than drone on about myself…you’re much more interesting.”

He looked back at you with a calm smile.

You scoffed faintly, “I highly doubt that.”

“Miss big fancy designer on her all-expenses-paid international trips. No time for sightseeing but still has an unwavering appreciation for art and literature and everything good in the world. Everything that is just as beautiful as she is.”

His simple explanation of you had you licking away your bashful smile and looking away from him as if needing to hide your blush from the revealing light of the nearby street lamp. He danced his fingertips over your shoulder which sent shivers down your arm and you forced yourself to look back at him. 

“I wanna know more about you, mister knows his way around Paris. Buying tourists drinks in bars and sweet talking his way through intelligent conversation about fashion and art and all the greats. I wanna know why no one has scooped you up yet.”

George shrugged with a faint smile on his lips, “I dunno. No one’s really caught my interest. I’m not much of the settle down type. I like to have the freedom to roam. Today, Paris. Maybe tomorrow; Milan. Athens. Monaco.” 

“Ah, not a man to be tied down, are you?” you teased lightly. 

“I’m 26. I have lots of time.”

“I envy that mindset.”

“You don’t think the same? Taking these years to focus on your career and travel? It seems you do.”

“That’s true.” you agreed, lolling your head forward again to admire the twinkling Eiffel Towel in front of you, “I just sometimes crave to be craved, y’know? Work and travel can only satisfy so much.”

“Love?”

“Yes, but even less than that I’d be willing to have. No one has ever really taken an interest in me despite my best efforts. I want to be one of those summer-fling, no strings attached, live in the moment kind of girls but…I guess that is not me. Not written in my cards.”

You weren’t looking at him but you could feel him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. It felt weird to confess such things to a stranger of all people but at the same time, you would likely never see him again so what did it matter. His fingers scratched gently over your shoulder and that same arm gave you a little squeeze. 

“You cannot be telling me right now that no guy has tried to get with you.” he spoke in near disbelief. 

You looked over at him again, your body resting so close against his side, and you answered honestly, “Nope. And believe it or not, you were the first guy ever to buy me a drink like that.”

“Well, I’m damn proud of it then. I don’t shy away from gorgeous women…unlike clearly every single guy from where you’re from.” 

You set your hand on his thigh with a soft, “You flatter me.” 

He set his opposite hand on top of yours, “You…are beautiful.” 

One look into his eyes and your heart was thudding hard in your chest with a warmth that had to be more than just the alcohol in your system. You didn’t want to look away from him - not even to gaze upon the beauty of the Eiffel Tower just beyond. Instead, you kept your eyes on his and silently took in every inch of his handsome face as if to engrave it into a monument of your very own in your mind. You couldn’t help but worry about the night coming to an end, already getting so ahead of yourself. 

George lifted his hand from yours on his lap to dust his fingers over your cheek and he tucked some of your loose strands of hair behind your ear in the late night breeze. You shivered at his ghostly touch and your eyelids fluttered when he caressed your jaw and held your face in his warm palm for a fleeting moment. But your eyes stayed locked through the moonlit night, illuminated by the sparkling Eiffel Tower nearby, and when he licked his lips briefly, your insides flip flopped in giddy anticipation. 

“This okay?” he asked.

“Mhm.” you hummed contentedly without tearing your gaze away from his perfectly plump lips. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to kiss them until that very moment. 

George's thumb gently dusted over your cheek and he guided you in slowly to let his nose bump testingly against yours, causing you to instinctively turn your face towards his a little more. Your breath shuttered slightly in your chest with your hand resting motionless on his thigh, not wanting to move an inch in case you scared him off; this was too good to be true. 

But in seconds, without hesitation, his arm around your shoulders pulled you closer just as his lips captured yours in a slow kiss by the guidance of his warm hand on your chin. Despite the cliché call for a swell of music and fireworks going off behind the Eiffel Tower, the silence that filled the Parisian streets in your reality rang in your ears with absolute perfection. You both stayed motionless for a few seconds, testing the waters, until George took the initiative to part your lips with his own and your head tilted just enough to go in for a deeper kiss. 

With your hand still on his thigh, your other lifted up to rest on the back of his neck just to make sure he wasn’t going to move away any time soon. He certainly wasn’t planning on it, and the way he kissed you was proof of that. His lips were so pillow soft against yours and they caused the most beautiful butterflies to erupt in your stomach and right down between your legs from only the gentlest kiss. He was so tender with it like he was almost nervous you were going to break at the first touch but then it was your turn to take initiative and you ghosted your tongue along his bottom lip. 

French kissing in Paris. Shamelessly, you mentally checked it off your bucket list once his tongue met yours. 

In the wide open greenery surrounding the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you sat together on a bench without a care in the world, letting the night around you swallow up your public display of affection. It was so out of character for you but it was thrilling all the same and you swore you could have stayed there all night just like that. He kissed you slowly and sensually, his lips fitting so effortlessly with yours and his tongue teasing against yours just the slightest amount. 

George gently took his hand from your face and set it blindly on your lap, sliding his warm palm over the hem of your tight pencil skirt and the outside of your thigh without taking his lips from yours for more than a second. Your body tried to arch against him from your spot at his side with his arm around your shoulders and you could feel him clutch you a little closer under his grasp, tilting his head to the other side for a change of pace through your kisses. 

You could taste the remanence of alcohol on his tongue as you licked your way deeper into his mouth, your fingers holding possessively to the back of his neck and along the high quality fabric of the collar of his shirt. But he fought back insistently for his control as if he were determined to keep the lead of your passionate French kisses and you would never have dreamt of declining him that. In fact, you found yourself so easily succumbing to him that your heart was racing in your chest and you didn’t want to let him go. 

His hand on your thigh left fire in its wake as he caressed you over the fabric of your skirt and dangerously close to the curve of your waist and your ass. In return, you slid your hand farther along the inseam of his slacks, earning a soft moan from his mouth into yours that you swore was the equivalent of angels singing. You couldn’t help but kiss him harder, desperate to taste more of him and those handsome sounds that you prided yourself on the ability to lure from his throat. 

When George started to pull away from your kiss, you leaned after him to chase his kiss for more with a gentle pull to the back of his neck to get him closer. His low chuckle fell against your cheek as he refused your kiss and you settled for a dusting of your lips across the corner of his mouth and his smooth cheek. He smelt so good, so manly, so fresh, so foreign, and you just had to breathe him in for a second. 

His hand rubbed over your thigh and then up your arm to gently grasp your bicep while he leaned his head back just enough to look you in the eye. Then, he offered with a voice so rich and smooth you felt it in your soul, “I have a complimentary bottle of champagne back at the hotel that won’t drink itself.”

His hotel was only two blocks away and neither of you really spoke on your walk over, and especially not about how you both seemed to walk a little quicker than before either. You were silently surprised by the five star hotel he led you into the lobby of, past doormen and sleek modern marble floors towards the elevators. 

Once you reached the sixth floor, his room was only a few paces down from the elevator bay and he pulled the key card from his wallet and opened the door for you politely. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest and in your ears as if your pathetic inexperience was thrilled with the concept of being ruined by whatever lay behind the closed hotel room door. 

The room itself was modest in size but decorated in modern finishes and furniture that matched the ritzy glamour of contemporary Paris filling the entirety of the well-known Pullman Hotel. He had kept his room generally neat with his suitcase resting closed on the floor beside the desk and only his laptop and a few belongings littering the surface. Just inside the entry to the standard hotel room was a mini bar where said bottle of champagne was resting in a half melted bucket of ice. With the door locked behind you, George stepped over to the bar and grabbed the neck of the green bottle to lift it out of the cold water. 

Your eyes were locked on him in his pink toned button up shirt and flattering slacks and you licked your lips before speaking, “I’m just going to freshen up for a sec.”

George glanced over at you and cracked a polite smile, “Sure. I’ll meet you out on the balcony.”

You smiled right back, “Okay.”

The bathroom was just adjacent to the entry door and you helped yourself, closing the door behind you to take a second to pull yourself together. You had never been so reckless with a stranger before and if the past half hour was any inclination of where this night was leading, you were really facing uncharted territory. But you still wanted it so badly and the faint haze of alcohol in your body was enough to mute your anxieties for a little while, just enough to get you to give into the temptation that pulsed within you. 

You took a moment to stare at yourself in the LED framed mirror and wiped the corners of your eyes free of the smudged eyeliner and mascara after a long day and then you fluffed up your hair a little, trying to buy yourself a few seconds before facing the rest of the night with your handsome stranger. He was waiting for you. 

Across the modest hotel room, past the neatly made king size bed and blue upholstered lounge chair, you could see his silhouette on the balcony through the floor to ceiling windows and sheer curtains. As if drawn to him, you were right away drifting across the carpeted floor to the partially open glass door. George looked up at you when you emerged from inside and he sent you a smile and held out a filled glass of bubbling champagne towards you. 

You thanked him softly with a polite smile of your own and took the long stemmed glass from his hand. Then, your attention was captured by the sparkling lights over the railing and, sure enough, the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud over the darkened rooftops of the surrounding buildings, in perfect view from the balcony. 

“Holy shit.” you grinned, reaching a hand out to rest on the railing so you could get a proper look to the right about 30 degrees with the famous monument right beside you. It was even closer than when you had sat together in the park and you peered over the edge of the balcony to look down the street to see the looming shadows of where the large iron feet of the tower rested in the tree lined concrete only a block away. 

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” George spoke from a step behind you. 

“Incredible. I don’t even want to know how much this hotel costs per night with a view like this.” 

George chuckled, “Worth it.”

“Seems so.” 

When the initial awe-struck shock of your view tapered off, the two of you sat on the outdoor chaise lounge together with your glasses of champagne. Like he had in the park, George draped his arm around the back of the seat so he could angle himself towards you slightly to engage in conversation as you saw fit. But you were perfectly happy just staring at him for a little bit, finally able to get a good look at him by the illumination of the balcony light above you. He was so gorgeous. You wondered if this was real. 

“Was it okay that I kissed you earlier?” he asked softly, reaching his thumb out from the back of the lounger just a few centimeters to ghost over your shoulder. 

“Yeah. It was really…really okay.” you admitted with a bashful smile. 

George mirrored your expression and then you both sipped your drinks. 

“Haven’t been kissed like that in a while. And especially not by such a handsome stranger.” you said honestly, hoping he couldn’t quite see the pink of your cheeks in the limited light you were both bathed in. Flirting wasn’t necessarily your forté but somehow, your comment had him scooting a little closer. 

“When was the last time you were kissed at all?” he pressed. 

“Over a year or two.” you answered. “Maybe even more than two…”

George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “That long?”

“Mhm.”

“Certainly didn’t feel like it.”

“You were leading.” you protested softly. 

His fingers raised from the back of the chaise to brush your hair over your shoulder, “And you kept up effortlessly.”

You shared breathy chuckles before you pitched his same question back at him; how long had it been since he was kissed.

“Maybe a month.” he replied as he lifted his glass to his lips as if to hide behind it. 

“Okay.” you scoffed playfully, trying to ignore the feeling that lingered dangerously close to that of jealousy in your chest, “So you’re a handsome art enthusiast who travels wherever he wants thanks to an undisclosed job and hangs out in bars to take tourist ladies back to your hotel room. Starting to see why you don’t feel the need to settle down, mister bachelor.” 

“Hey now.” George tisked, “I’m not a player if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“Oh no, of course not.” you assured him casually, “I don’t kiss players.”

His lips perked up at the corner and you sipped your drink behind raised brows. 

George’s head cocked to the side slightly, curiously, and he pitched a question to you, “Well, what do you think my intentions were when I invited you back here?”

It was a teasing inquiry that definitely put you on the spot but you had the wit to counter his remarks. You swirled your glass of champagne gently in your hand with an easy response, glancing out across the night covered city, “To try French champagne with a movie-esque view of the Eiffel Tower, of course.”

George stared at you with that sly little smirk, “Mhm.”

“Why?” you glanced back at him innocently, “Was there something else that you had intended from your generous hospitality?” 

You were sure he had shuffled closer when you weren’t looking and you were almost as close together as you were on the bench moments earlier. His index finger twirled through your hair and then the back of it caressed your flushed cheek as he spoke softly, “Just to show you how a real gentleman appreciates a lady as beautiful and as fascinating as you.”

“Oh yeah?” you licked your lips habitually, your gaze drifting between his eyes and his lips, “And how might that be done?”

“C’mere and I’ll show you.” he whispered.

His voice alone had the ability to make your insides twist with lust and you didn’t need to be asked twice before you were leaning in those few extra centimeters to meet him halfway for another kiss. Your lips locked effortlessly as if the practice at the park came in handy and after your first one, he was pulling away just long enough to move in for more. His hand danced around the side of your neck and the pad of his thumb pressed gently to your jaw to guide you into your sensual kisses on the private hotel room balcony. 

You both leaned into it at the same time, tilting heads and parting lips in unison with champagne glasses held forgotten in your hands. His soft moan into your mouth made your pussy throb and you gave him a little hum in reply, peaceful and content and not wanting him to stop. He read your non-verbal language perfectly as his hand cradling your face slid farther around the side of your neck and his fingers pressed in place there to pull you into him. Your free hand reached out to catch yourself on his thigh thanks to his insistence to get you impossibly closer but you gladly kept right up with his lips and his tongue that teased yours. 

The night air felt hot in that moment and yet you didn’t want to stray even a millimeter away from him. In fact, when he tried to take a second to break away from your kiss for a breath, you reached up from his lap to grab his cheeks in your hand and pull his lips back to yours. His chuckle was warm and low against your mouth and you could taste it on your tongue as his pushed back against yours in retaliation. Your kisses were lustful and full of silent desire but they were slow and savouring as if each single kiss had your entire heart and soul put into each one. You sucked on his tongue greedily, earning another pretty groan out of his chest and he nipped at your bottom lip and gave you one more off center kiss before he was dropping his face into your neck. 

Your hand that had taken to his cheeks slid around his shoulder instead and your mouth fell open, peacefully agape, as you stared out towards the Eiffel Tower in the near distance, sparking against the inky night sky, while your handsome stranger kissed up your neck. His lips were so heavenly and your eyes fluttered with bliss as he trailed open mouthed kisses across your tender skin, his hand still secure at the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel his warm breath leave shivers in its wake and you bit your lip instinctively as your senses were focused all on him. 

You never knew neck kisses could feel that good and you let him know through soft hums of appreciation and the way your fingers grasped the back of his button up shirt. No one had ever kissed you like that and any hints of nervousness that had once grazed your mind were thrown out the window by his effortless touch. He sucked gently on your supple skin before soothing it with a modest lick and you leaned your head back so he could take the hint to let up from your neck in exchange for your lips again. Gladly accepting, you shared a few more loud sloppy kisses before he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip and gave it a little tug as he pulled away. Side by side on the outdoor chaise lounge, your eyes met in your close proximity, pupils blown wide, and your half-empty champagne glasses were still held in your hands.

George licked his lips and you shifted your hand from the back of his shoulder to trace the shape of them with the pad of your index finger. He spoke to you quietly through your touch, “You said guys don’t really take interest in you…so how far have you actually gone before?”

“Such a salacious thing to ask a lady.” you tisked in mock offense before bringing your hand back to your lap.

“Just trying to set our boundaries for tonight.” he protested with a handsome grin that he licked away.

“I will be comfortable with anything we decide to do.” you answered honestly and almost too easily.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” you pushed back at him. “I need a little sense of mystery too. You can’t be the only mysterious stranger here.”

He cocked an eyebrow behind a sip of his drink before answering, “Touché.”

“My experience is limited.” you elaborated slightly, “But I am more than willing to experiment.” 

George swirled his finger around the rim of his glass with his eyes focused all on you as if he were debating his next move. You waited, willing to make him work for it a little, tucked up beside him in the Parisian night with a gentle breeze in your hair. You were sitting so close together that you could smell him and you wanted to completely engulf yourself in him that instant. There must have been something about the French air that just ignited this unfamiliar lust within you. 

But apparently George was of the same mindset, undoubtedly sealed by the steamy kiss you had just shared, because his next question was so blunt that it nearly took the air from your lungs. He asked it softly, gently, with his hand trailing over your shoulder and your collarbones and down the neckline of your blouse, “So you’ve never had cum on your tits before?” 

You stared at how he stared at you, and you replied with a whisper, “I’ve never had cum on anything before, to be honest.”

“Well let’s change that.” he pitched, “You wanna?”

You bit back your smile and nodded without hesitation. 

He leaned forward to set his champagne glass on the outdoor table beside the bucket of melting ice and you rested yours down too, unable to smother the grin that was only growing wider across your face. The moment his glass was out of his hand, George was leaning back against the back of the chaise lounge and starting to unbuckle his belt. You tucked one leg up underneath you so you were facing towards him a bit better and you caressed down the front of his shirt with a gentle hand while leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and, when he turned his head in your direction, you kissed his lips. 

The sound of his belt buckle clanking faintly as he unpinned it had your insides stirring with lust and as you kissed him like you had only a few seconds before, you reached down to help him out a little. You were both impatient for it and thus you both broke your kiss to look down towards his lap as he finally got his belt undone and you took the initiative to pop the button of his pants and tug down the zipper. His hips flexed up towards your hand naturally with him lounged back on the chaise and his feet flat on the ground, so willing to let you take to him however you saw fit. 

“Did you want me to suck your dick?” you asked softly as if nervous someone was nearby to overhear, with your hand still tucked around the waistband of his pants. 

George stared up at you with sweet blue eyes and a sultry smile to match, “Yeah. If you want to.”

You exchanged a genuine smile with him before you were standing up from the chaise lounge and pitching, “On my knees?”

“However you want, gorgeous.” he answered smoothly. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears and gently scooted the small outdoor table out of the way so you had room to sink to your knees in front of him. The floor of the hotel room balcony was cool and strenuous against your bare knees but your attention was focused on things other than your own personal comfort as you tugged at the waistband of his pants to start to shimmy them down his legs. George shifted slightly to help you take them off and he kicked off his shoes at the same time and discarded both articles to the side, leaving him in only his underwear and his button up shirt. 

Your warm hands slid up his thighs and to his waist, allowing you to lean in towards his lap with your eyes set on the sizable bulge in the front of his underwear. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your mouth was watering and you licked your lips before leaning down to kiss him through the fabric, raising your gaze up to his face when you dropped out your tongue to tease over the shape. With a shaky exhale of anticipation, George brushed his hand through your hair softly to keep it out of your way and didn’t dare to tear his eyes away from you as your gentle hand moved to the front of his underwear and your palm rubbed over him warmly. 

You could feel how hard he was already through the thin material of his briefs and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip lustfully to try and bite back the excited grin that came with the racing of your heart. In fact, you could easily wrap your fingers around the thick shape of his cock and give it a little squeeze just to feel it twitch in response with a soft groan from the man who laid before you. Leaning down towards him, you pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to the kiss of his pelvis that was peeking out from under his underwear and the hem of his shirt before giving him another one right over the Calvin Klein label across the waistband. 

“Didn’t know you were such a fucking tease.” George said quietly, draping his arms across the back of the chaise lounge. 

You smiled up at him proudly before linking your fingers in the sides of his underwear and started to pull them down his thighs, carefully lifting the snug fabric over his hard cock as you released it from the confines. His briefs were dropped haphazardly down his shins and he kicked them to the side to give himself free reign, unable to stop staring at the way you stared at him so wide-eyed and angelic. 

With your hands resting sweetly on his thighs, you were shamelessly gaping at the first hint of masculinity that you had seen in ages and the first one you so desperately wanted to see. You didn’t even realize you could think a cock was gorgeous, but his was. Perfectly shaped with trimmed dark brown hair around the base and down over his balls, you couldn’t stop gawking at him. It naturally rested up against the dip between his pelvis and his thigh from how hard he was, swollen so thick and large that part of you wondered how you were supposed to fit the whole thing in your mouth. And the tip was so pretty and blush pink that you just had to reach out and gingerly dust your fingertip across it, making his cock twitch at your ghostly touch. 

You then wrapped your hand around it to lift it up away from his body and angled it towards your mouth so you could purse your lips and let a thick string of saliva fall onto the head and it dripped down the side. George shuttered slightly and you looked up at his face again just as you dropped out your tongue and licked at the sensitive underside of his pretty pink tip. It was then quickly followed by another precise lick right up the shaft of his cock with your dragging your flat tongue wetly right along his flesh to taste every inch of him. 

Both of you let out soft hums of appreciation at the same time and as George’s lips perked up at the corner at your mirrored responses, you wrapped yours around the head of his dick and slowly sucked on it. His head fell back slightly with a tight groan from his throat at the first feeling of your mouth taking him over and you caressed it with your tongue in messy swirls at the same time. But then you were pulling off him with a wet pop and you tucked your hair behind your ears again before taking hold of the base of his cock again to keep him steady as you sank your mouth down around him. 

Like a true gentleman, your handsome stranger reached down with both hands to gently pull your hair away from your face and over your shoulders and into a snug make-shift ponytail in his grasp. With your hand still holding him steady, you gave him shallow testing motions of your warm wet mouth, making sure to hollow your cheeks on each up stroke to suck on him prettily. 

“God, you’re such a good girl.” George exhaled with that honey rich tone of voice that made your pussy throb under your skirt. 

You moaned around him at his praise and let yourself drool down his cock as you sped up your mouth a little with your hand starting to use your spit as lubrication to stroke him off at the same time. His grasp in your hair followed the motions of your head easily and he peered down at you through lustful eyes as you took his cock in your mouth like it was your day job. 

“You like praise, baby?” he pressed on quietly. 

You lifted up from his lap to look up at him with your hand taking over on his dick in quick pumps as you answered, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” George smirked softly back at you, his eyebrows raising when you dribbled more spit down onto his cock in your hand without tearing your gaze away from his. 

Then you were sinking your mouth back down around him and taking him in against your tongue through plush drooly lips, matching the pace with your hand until the faint wet rhythmic squelch filled the private hotel balcony. It was hard to believe that even after having him in your mouth, you were still salivating for more. 

George played to that perfectly as he kept holding your hair back in one fist as he spoke down to you in that velvet accent of his, “I know you can be a good girl for me and take more of my cock in your pretty mouth.”

Your eyes nearly rolled at his filthy words and you moaned in acknowledgement around him before gently shaking your head to get yourself deeper. Tears pricked your eyes slightly as you forced yourself farther down on him until the head of his cock was nudging into the tight confines of your throat. You gagged faintly around him but kept yourself bobbing your mouth along the length of his dick steadily until your spit was leaking over your hand and down his balls. 

“That’s it,” he exhaled, “Just like that, baby, fuck.”

George tucked one hand behind his head, looking so handsome in that button up shirt and nothing else, his legs spread on either side of you to give you a spot to kneel with your face in his lap. You slid your free hand up his waist and tucked the hem of his shirt in your thumb so you could push the fabric up and out of the way slightly, only moaning around his cock when you felt the faint arches and valleys of his abs under your palm. You just wanted to give him everything. 

The gags that were forced from your throat only got louder as you pushed yourself onwards and bobbed your head down on him a little faster, thankfully still quiet enough to stay within the open confines of the balcony you were on. Your grasp on his slicked up cock kept in time with your mouth in long twisting strokes, guiding your motions effortlessly. 

“Fuck, baby.” George groaned, “Your mouth feels so fucking good, holy shit.” 

Driven with lustful desire, you pulled off of him with your tongue dragging up the underside of his cock in your wake, and you gasped out of it filthily but still kept your hand around him securely as you pitched your plea, “Can I eat your ass too?”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the salacious request that you offered with such an angelic smile but he nodded, “Yes. Yeah, baby, that’s so fucking hot.” 

You grinned up at him and helped him lift his feet up from the ground so his body weight was resting back against the chaise lounge and he let go of your hair so both of his hands could grasp the backs of his knees to keep himself spread for you. You removed your hand from his dick to set both palms on his ass and spread his cheeks open, your heart racing in your chest and your throat as this handsome man laid spread before you, completely at your mercy. 

“Has anyone rimmed you before?” you asked. 

“No. But I’ve been curious.” he answered to the balcony above as if he were almost nervous to look at you. 

“Good.” you leaned down and spit loudly on his perineum, “We’ll each have something new to experience tonight.”

“What’s that saying? What happens in Paris…” George said playfully. 

You shared light laughter.

Then, he asked, “Have you ever rimmed someone before?”

“Nope.” you replied, “But you’re so fucking hot and it made me want to really badly.” 

He couldn’t get another response out before you were leaning in and dragging your flat tongue right over his asshole, smearing your spit right across it and up to his balls. 

“Fuck.” George lifted his head to look down at you.

You sent him a salacious smile from between his legs and slid your palms up the backs of his thighs before leaning in to swirl the tip of your tongue around his tight rim of muscle and you prodded at it gently. His mouth was agape as he stared at you in near awe, watching how you licked and kissed at his asshole until your right hand was reaching up to wrap around his hard cock to lazily jerk him off at the same time. He moaned lowly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to try and keep himself quiet in the open balcony you found yourselves on. 

Your hand around his swollen dick kept pumping him in messy flicks of your wrist angled up towards his abdomen while your tongue swirled and lapped at his asshole to pull another tight groan from his chest. It felt so good to bring him pleasure and you couldn’t help but drop your other hand down to gently grasp his balls in your warm palm, kneading them tenderly, and George’s head fell back against the lounge. 

“Fucking hell.” he exhaled shakily. “God, this feels fucking insane.” 

You giggled sweetly and kissed the doughy flesh of his ass and then gave him one last proper lick before you were rising up onto your knees properly and guiding his cock back into your mouth. He let out a tight grunt at the surprising feeling of your warm wet tongue taking to his aching dick and he heaved his head up from the back of the couch and reached a hand down right away to tangle in your hair again. But you were a step ahead and you were already starting to bob your mouth down around him in sloppy strokes, only made stronger by his little tugs of your head towards his lap that made you choke steady around him.

“I love how you gag when I push it deeper.” he said through his teeth, “Such a good fucking girl.”

You kept your other hand on his balls and cupped them in your palm and squeezed faintly, making his cock twitch against your tongue. You were honestly making a bit of a mess with the tears pricking your eyes and the drool slipping down your chin and over your hands that cradled him lustfully. George’s hand in your hair kept you going a little faster and his feet slipped off the edge of the lounger to rest back on the ground, spread nice and wide for your mouth to take as much of him as possible as his breaths fell heavier into the nighttime air. 

But then he was slowing you down with a, “Fuck, okay, stop a second.”

You pulled off of him right away with a gasp for air, a thick string of saliva breaking away from the head of his cock and it dripped down your chin for you to wipe it away with the back of your hand. He sat himself up a little more from his slouching position and his hand took your place around his dick in those quick pumps. 

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” he asked, although his tone had just the perfect hint of demanding. 

You licked away your grin at what you knew was coming and you hurried to unbutton your blouse in front of him from your knees. It was dropped to the side with his slacks and his shoes and you took the initiative to let your bra join it, too driven by the dangerous combination of lust and alcohol to overthink anything. 

“Fuck, good girl.” he praised with his eyes glued to your chest and his hand keeping strong strokes around his cock. 

You reached up to graze your fingers around your hardened nipples before groping your breasts in your full palms. George groaned lowly and shuffled a little closer to the edge of the chaise lounge, his feet still anchored on the ground with you kneeling prettily between them. His dick in his hand was right in front of you, just below eye level, and you pursed your lips to drip more of your spit onto the pretty pink tip for him to smear in with his secure hand in quick erotic pumps. 

“You’re so fucking filthy.” he whispered strongly, “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” 

“Please.” you begged with a soft voice, peering up at him behind long lashes as your hands pushed your breasts together, “Please cum on my tits.” 

“Fuck.” George groaned through his teeth, his biceps bulging with how close he was getting himself and the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock was apparent over your shared heavy breaths on the balcony. 

“I’m your good little slut.” you breathed. 

You could literally hear him choke over his next breath but that fact only brought a proud smirk to your face as you watched him succumb to your simply crafted words, his hand tugging faster at his cock with his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Yeah, gimme it.” you whispered, “Cum all over me.” 

In seconds, George’s face was scrunching up and his hand was shuttering on his dick just before he came with a moan that was smothered by his bitten lip. You watched with wide eyes as the first pretty white spurt streaked across your chest as your hands held your breasts together for him, giving him room to paint you in ribbons of creamy white. 

“Oh my God.” you groaned heartily as you stared down at yourself and the mess he made, the last few drops slipping out of the tip and down the shaft of his dick towards his fist. Cheekily, you dropped out your tongue and lapped at the leaking slit at the head of his cock to clean him up a little and to watch how it made him flinch sensitively. 

“Oh my God.” George echoed, his chest rising and falling quickly behind his pretty button up shirt while your eyes met. 

You bit your lip excitedly at the realisation of what had just happened and the lust that had taken to your mind only flowed through you even stronger than before. You leaned up from your knees to push your lips on his in an off centered kiss and George gladly grabbed your cheek in his hand to keep kissing you. Both of you were greedy and sloppy with it without an ounce of politeness in sight as you French kissed overlooking the Parisian night sky and George’s hands ran up your hips and over your bare breasts that were still streaked in dripping cum.

You stood up between his legs without tearing your lips or tongue away from his, only mumbling into his kiss as you held yourself up on his bare thighs, “My pussy is so fucking wet.”

He danced his fingertips down your torso to the waistband of your skirt, “Can I feel?”

“Yeah.” you answered easily into his mouth. 

George’s lips locked with yours again as his hand helped itself up your skirt until it was bunching around your mid-thighs and he could glide his fingers over your panties. Standing between his legs and bent over at the waist towards him, you held his face in your hands to keep kissing him even as he moaned into your mouth at the discovery of the soaked through fabric. 

You didn’t stop him as he gently nudged your wet panties to the side to glide his fingers over your pussy, slicking them up in your warm arousal in taunting back and forth caresses. You shared deep moans into each other’s mouths, trying to stay quiet in the outdoor setting but it was hard when the lust that joined you together was unbearably strong. 

“You’re fucking soaked.” George mumbled into your kiss, rubbing his fingers a little harder between your slick lips. 

You sucked on his tongue as you pulled away from his mouth, offering bravely, “Wanna taste it too?”

He licked his lips behind his obvious smirk, “Yeah.”

You stood up straighter as if preparing to swap spots with him but George had other plans. 

He gestured across the balcony, “Lean forward against the railing.” 

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

While you turned yourself around to face the edge of the balcony and the city of Paris beyond, the sparkling Eiffel Tower to the right of the hotel urged you closer to the railing for an idyllic view. The darkness of the night provided sufficient shadows over your exhibitionist scene on the sixth floor balcony for you to feel too shy from any potential onlookers at street level with you in absolutely nothing from the waist up. George was right up behind you in an instant though with his hands on your body and his lips on your neck, kissing right up under your ear to make you shiver and you reached a hand back to tangle in his hair over your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. 

He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point as you could tell by the feeling of his bare chest pressing against your bare back and the sensation of his warm skin against yours was invigorating. But it wasn’t long before he was kissing down your shoulder and down your spine and sinking to his knees behind you, taking your skirt down with him in his greedy hands. You stepped out of it and let him toss it to the side before his hands were groping the flesh of your ass and he nudged his face right between your cheeks, guarded only by the thin lace of your panties. 

George kissed teasingly over the curve of your cheeks and then sunk his teeth into the fabric of your underwear gently, earning a soft mewl from you as you leaned farther over the railing and he gave them a tug. Then they were coming off next and you were standing naked at the edge of the balcony, guarded only by the night sky and the arch of your body in an attempt to keep yourself guarded behind the railing. George’s large hands pulled at your cheeks to spread you open for his hungry eyes and then he was leaning in and licking right up over your pussy. 

You shuttered with a soft gasp, flinching under the touch of his tongue, and your fingers wrapped around the smooth metal of the railing. He lapped at your pussy lazily for a few seconds, tasting his first indulgence of you until he was sitting back with a moan and a lick to his lips. 

“Fuck, you taste so good.” he breathed, giving your ass a jiggle before he was moving back in. 

You giggled softly through the Parisian night and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you focused all your attention on the feeling of his tongue gliding up between your folds and tasting how you dripped for him. He groaned against your pussy and kept his hands on your ass and your hips to hold you on his face as he parted his pillow soft lips to take more of you in his mouth in greedy suckles. 

Your eyes fluttered as you stared out across the rooftops to the sparkling Eiffel Tower under the sensations of his heavenly mouth on your cunt. Spreading your feet a little farther apart in your heels, you pushed back against his face to earn another hearty moan out of his chest and he gently shook his head to smother himself in your body as he licked you out with a skilled tongue. Your body burned for more and you moved a hand from the railing to reach back and tangle in his hair, pulling his face in where you needed him. George took your guidance and shifted a little lower to flick at your clit, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. 

He took a hand from your hip to slide two fingers in his mouth for a quick second before he was reaching between your legs and rubbing his fingertips over your swollen clit. Your moan was muffled by your bitten lip and you pushed back against his touch, drunk on the feeling of him touching you in all the right spots like he knew you so well. His tongue kept prodding at your pussy and licking up the sweet arousal that leaked out of you by his own mere presence, tasting you with pleasant moans of his own. 

You were trying to be quiet as you faced the city beyond but he certainly wasn’t making it easy. Your hand in his hair ended up making it back to the cool metal railing as you were desperate for something to hold onto to stabilize yourself. In the silence of the night, you mouthed a swear word to the sky and rocked your hips back slowly against his mouth and fingers. George hummed against you and then pulled away with a slurp for more quick flicks of his tongue across your cunt.

But then he was sitting back on his knees slightly to ask you quietly, “Can I put my thumb in your ass?”

Your eyes widened, “Really?”

“If you want it.” he kissed your cheek, fingers still ghosting over your clit as if comfortingly. 

You felt entirely trusting of him and you permitted him with a mumbled, “Okay. Be gentle though.” 

He kissed your hip, “Of course.” 

You heard him suck on his thumb for a moment and then pull it from his lips with a wet pop and then he was spitting loudly onto your asshole. This was so far into uncharted territory for you that you swore your eyes were nearly as wide as saucers as you stared across the city and focused on the twinkling starriness of the Eiffel Tower just to your right. The pad of his thumb swirled faintly around your tight rim of muscle before he was slipping it inside just a little, just down to the first knuckle. 

Then his tongue was on you again, lapping at your pussy eagerly with that added fullness of his thumb that had you biting harder on your bottom lip as the warmth cascaded through your body. It was only helped by his fingers on your clit and the way he rubbed quick precise strokes to the sensitive, swollen bud that eased you into this newfound world of lust you had never had the chance to explore before. 

“This okay?” he asked breathily against your cunt. 

“Yeah.” you answered quickly. 

He chuckled warmly into you and let his tongue do the talking, giving you long full strokes in quick succession that had you legs flinching for a second. You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs as the seconds passed, undoubtedly mixed in erotically with his spit as the filthy wet sounds of his mouth grew messier by the second. His cum was slipping down your chest and between your breasts too but what was once a feeling you would have hated was suddenly filled with a new sense of lust that made you feel claimed by him; this handsome stranger whom you trusted all too easily. The moan that fell from your lips was accidental. 

George pulled away from your pussy with a wet slurp and he took his hands back to squeeze your hips before he was dropping out his tongue and licking right up your spine until he reached your neck and his hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head back so he could get his lips on yours. You kissed him gladly, shamelessly throbbing under his obvious dominance, and you reached a hand back to pull him closer by the back of his neck, licking your way into his mouth to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

Standing together naked on the balcony, your silhouettes stood out against the illuminated hotel room to the Paris horizon, and he was so close to you that you could feel his hard cock pressing against the back of your thigh. Despite his obvious physical urgency, he was a gentleman and he let you pull kisses from his lips until you made the next move. Of course, it didn’t take you long since the arousal in your own bloodstream was driving you wild, and when you broke your kiss and his lips met your neck, you breathed your plea into the Parisian evening, 

“Please fuck me.” 

George’s groan against your neck was shiver worthy and you tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed up under your ear. 

“Right here.” you added. “Right now. Please fuck me.” 

He nipped at your ear lobe, “Okay…I gotta get a condom.” 

“Just pull out.” you exhaled, pulling his lips back on yours hungrily by your hand at the nape of his neck. 

After sharing a few more feverish kisses, he asked, “You sure?”

“Are you clean?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Of course.” he answered respectfully. 

“Then yeah.” you wiggled your bare ass back against his cock, feeling the way it slipped so easily between your cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip again as your hands fell gently onto the railing and you ground yourself back on him slowly, tauntingly, impatiently. 

George stood up straighter behind you and shuffled up closer, resting his left hand on your shoulder while his right slid the head of his cock along your pussy to collect more of that creamy wetness you were covered in. You arched a little more for him, bending right over until your forearms were balanced parallel across the flat railing and your ass was pressed right up against his body. 

“I can already feel how warm you are just like this.” he mumbled into the nighttime air. 

“So get inside.” you pitched. 

His hand tightened on your shoulder as he took your invitation gladly and carefully slipped the head of his dick inside you. The initial stretch had your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth dropping open at the stinging ache it pushed across your hips but you weren’t going to offer a single complaint. Especially not when his rich moan at his first feeling of your pussy gripping his cock had you set ablaze. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he exhaled. 

You hung your head with a small whine as he pushed in a little more and both of his hands were at your shoulders before sliding down the curve of your back. You were afraid to speak as if he would be able to hear the quiver in your voice from the way he stretched you open so agonizingly. His palms caressed your hips and up the side of your torso and he gave you a few shallow thrusts. 

“Can I put it all in?” he asked softly. 

You lifted your head up and tried to look back at him over your shoulder in weak surprise, “This isn’t all of it?”

He chuckled, “No. I’m only halfway.” 

“Fuck.” you gaped before turning back to the skyline, “Yeah, gimme it all.” 

You braced yourself on the railing as he sank deeper inside your tight cunt, filling you up snugly until you could feel that aching pressure deep inside you. The soft whimper that fell from your lips when he fit entirely inside you and his skin pressed right up against your ass was involuntary and his hand pressed to your mouth right after. 

“This okay?” he asked against your ear as he leaned over you slightly. 

“Mhm.” you mumbled into his palm. 

“You’re such a good girl.” he praised you lustfully, “Taking every last fucking inch of me with the whole city watching.” 

You moaned quietly against his hand again and he gave you a slow testing thrust that made your eyes roll shut and your fingers tightened on the railing. George’s soft breath against your neck was warm and invigorating and as the strain across your hips faded into more pleasure than pain as your body grew used to it, you found yourself pushing back against him. It encouraged him to thrust into you a little faster, a little harder, and you arched your back a little deeper for him.

“That’s it.” he exhaled, keeping one hand over your mouth with his other grabbing the flesh of your waist to pull you back into his every thrust. “Fuck.”

In only a few seconds, your secret exhibitionist rendezvous on the hotel balcony was growing louder with the wet slap of skin thanks to your own slick arousal and his spit that had slicked you up at the same time, now only made worse by the pleasure he introduced to your body that made you drip down his cock. It was a consistent rhythm of gentle beats, punctuated by his balls hitting your clit at that perfect angle that had you moaning into his hand still clamped over your mouth. 

Your hazy gaze peered over the Paris rooftops and out towards the Eiffel Tower, dizzy with wonder as to how this was real life. It was an erotic movie moment, you were sure. How could a man so glorious as him want to take you back to his hotel like this? You weren’t willing to complain, however. Especially not when his strong strokes had any thoughts tumbling out of your brain and vanishing into thin air right before you. Balanced on your black heels spread shoulder width apart, you were leaning so effortlessly over the railing at its perfect height with that angle that allowed the head of his cock to plunge so precisely into you over and over again. 

“Oh my God, George.” you moaned into his hand, trying to turn away from his restricting palm but he kept a secure grasp over your mouth. So you were stuck muttering against his hand, “Feels so good.”

Your sounds of pleasure pulled a soft grunt from his chest, holding onto you has he fucked you over the hotel railing until you were both huffing with desire for more. But it was overwhelming and addicting and it was getting harder to hold back the moans that were born at the back of your throat, even with his hand covering your mouth. You couldn’t help yourself as you started to get a little loud, struggling to hold back amidst the pleasure he introduced to your body, and soon his hand wasn’t doing much anymore as your moans tumbled over the Parisian rooftops and to the street below. 

“Shh.” George reminded you against your ear, still thrusting away into your pussy just hard enough to keep those steady claps of his skin against yours going. He slipped his index finger past your lips with the rest of his hand still pressed to your mouth and as you sucked on it gladly, he spoke lowly to you, “Keep your voice down. Someone could hear you being a dirty fucking slut for me.”

But, of course, his little ‘threat’ only had you moaning louder with lust around his finger and you greedily dropped your other hand down from the railing to rub at your aching clit. The way your body pulsed around him had him dropping his head back for a moment, mouthing a swear word to the balcony directly above you without faltering for a second. 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, down on street level, there was a recreational park opposite the hotel at which a group of young men were playing soccer. The silence of the night and the vacancy of the street had allowed for the sounds of your attempted secret balcony rendezvous to be carried from the sixth floor and down to the park. One of them spotted you first, pointing up to the balcony to his friends to catch a glimpse of the salacious tourists. One stuck his pinkies in his mouth and whistled loudly, earning the quickly following hollers of his friends in your direction. 

Your attention was pulled from the night sky to the group of young men down below in the park and your eyes widened, “Oh my God.”

You could feel George smirk against your temple, “Wanna put on a fucking show, do you? I told you to be quiet.” 

Now having been found out, George removed his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead and he pulled your head right back so his lips could graze against your ear while his hips shoved hard against yours over and over in quick succession. 

“This okay?” he whispered. 

You nodded, “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? You want me to choke you?”

“Fuck, yeah.” you breathed, staring longingly into his eyes over your shoulder while your fingers kept rubbing messily at your clit. 

George’s eyes darted past you before meeting your gaze again, “They’re fucking watching.” 

“Don’t stop.” you pleaded, keeping your stone grip on the railing. “Please, don’t stop.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty.” he spoke to you through his teeth, tightening his hand around your throat and you whimpered desperately against his lips with how close you were together, your body nearly bouncing on his cock with how strongly he was fucking you over the railing. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes, I wanna cum for you.” you answered obediently, drunk on lust as if the real world were universes away. 

“For me and those men down there watching you get fucked with my cum all over your tits?”

“Yeah.” you whimpered, twitching with pleasure and your heels scuffed across the concrete ground of the balcony. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” George groaned against your cheek, still keeping that steady pace of every thrust into your sopping body. “That’s it, baby, just fucking take it.” 

You could feel your pleasure building and building, trembling inside you with tight warmth that overwhelmed your senses that you didn’t even care about your public standing as you cried out for him euphorically. And he seemed equally enthralled by your desire to be loud for him despite your onlookers, fucking you a little stronger just to help you out a little more with his hand around your throat pulling your lips onto his for a few off-centered kisses. 

“That’s it. Yes!” you squeaked, pulling away from his kiss, “Fuck, I’m cumming!” 

The pleasure that tore through you was unbelievable and your breath caught in your lungs and your pussy gripped right up around him. George’s thrusts stalled for just a second as you tightened up so strongly around him that it was hard for him to move but he recovered quickly and kept fucking you right through your orgasm with hushed praised against your ear. 

You tore your hand from between your legs to join your other on the railing, gasping through the crisp night air as your legs quivered in your heels slightly, “Shit.”

“Good girl, good girl.” George took his hand from your throat to grab two hands of your hips to keep fucking into you, “Stay just like that.”

The feeling of him pulling out had you whimpering and the sound of his hand on his cock replaced it, jerking himself off in a few strokes before he was coming again, right across your ass and a little up your back. His moans were quiet but rich and full of life and your jaw fell slack at the sound like that was enough to finish you off again too. You gave him a little wiggle for emphasis as the warm splatters painted your skin until his hand was resting down against your waist and caressing your hip. 

“That was so good.” you admitted with a bashful smile, resting your face down on your arms that held you up against the railing. 

George leaned down over you and kissed your neck, “Glad you think so.”

“Are they still down there?” you asked in a whisper. 

He glanced over your shoulder down towards the park across the street before answering with a, “Doesn’t look like it.” 

You hummed flatly. He kissed between your shoulder blades. 

“Now what?” you asked. 

“I kinda wanna eat you out some more.” he confessed with his lips ghosting across your back. 

Your eyebrows raised as did your head and you tried to turn to look at him, “Really?”

“If you’re up for continuing what we have just started…unless you have to leave.” George said, leaving another fleeting kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m all yours.” you answered giddily. 

“Okay,” his voice was smiling, “Then turn around.”

You obeyed and stood up straighter so you could turn to face him and right away his hand was sliding up the side of your neck and he was pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands rested against his torso that was only slightly exposed under his open button up and you greedily danced your fingertips down his abdomen and around to his waist to urge him closer. He smiled against your lips and then he was reaching down to grab you by the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you right off the ground. You shrieked in surprise and you shared laughter into your kisses as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and he carried you towards the balcony door. 

Despite the fact that you had already done plenty outside, your entire body felt giddy for more and his obvious desire to give you more was arousing in itself. George helped himself to the hotel room as you clung onto him and once the door was kicked shut behind him, he was dropping you backwards onto the king size bed just inside. Laying naked across the width of the neatly made bed that felt like you were draped across a cloud, you grinned up at him in the sparkling Eiffel Tower lights that leaked in from outside and from the addition of the warm bedside sconces. 

In nothing but that open button up shirt, George dropped to his knees at the side of the bed as if ready to whisper a prayer to you and his hands wrapped around your calves to yank you closer to the edge. With a lick to his lips, he stared down at your glistening pussy with how you were casually spread for him and he dragged two fingers right between your folds, lightly spreading you open for him to drop a thick string of spit right onto you. You were already plenty prepped but it was clear he liked it messy - not to mention the mess of his you were still smeared in over front and back - and you would never dream of complaining. You swore he could do anything to you in that moment and you would take it gladly. 

But at the same time, you were still quite sensitive from your escapades on the balcony so the first touch of his tongue on your pussy had your entire body flinching. He held your thighs back and licked right up from your ass to your clit in one strong solid stripe with his blue eyes finding yours as you gaped down at him from where you were resting back on your forearms against the bed. He licked his smirking lips and turned to leave a few slow wet kisses to your inner thigh before nipping teasingly at the skin and then soothing it with a lick. 

Then he was moving back in towards your pussy and he was lapping at it like a sweet kitten with his warm hands circling your thighs to hold you on his mouth. You whimpered to the ceiling as your head fell back and your fingers behind you grasped onto the tightly pulled duvet. You were just so sensitive that you tried to close up your legs and push yourself away from his mouth with pitchy moans that tumbled from your chest so freely. 

George wasn’t giving up without a fight and he shifted his hands around your thighs in exchange for his arms and he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed to keep you from squirming away, smothering his mouth right up against you and his tongue deep inside you. You gasped hard to the ceiling, nose scrunching up, and you dropped onto your back against the plush bed with a tight groan as your hand tangled in his hair. He ate you out like he had known your body his whole life, finding all the right places with his tongue while his nose brushed and nudged against your clit. 

“Oh s-shit-” you squeaked, desperately trying to push yourself away from his eager mouth with how sensitive you were, the intensity shooting up your spine in shockwaves. 

George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and another kiss to your thigh before he was instructing lowly, “Hold your ankles for me.” 

You easily followed his demands, taking your ankles in your gentle grasp and you wiggled your heels off your feet at the same time so they dropped to the carpeted floor dully. 

“Spread your legs as wide as you can for me and hold them there.”

George spoke like he knew what he was doing so you didn’t question it as you guided your legs out to the sides widely, held in place by your hands around your ankles. 

“Good girl.” he praised, running his hands up your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “You’re such a good listener for me.” 

With his eyes on yours, he leaned back down towards your pussy and left a slow open mouthed kiss right over your clit, leading with his tongue, and you flinched at his ghostly touch. 

“Mm, do you wanna cum again for me, sweetheart?”

His voice was so buttery smooth, you could feel yourself pulse by only his words and he felt it too as his lips pricked into a smile and he took that - and your soft whine - as answer enough. George wrapped one arm around your thigh so he could dust the pad of his thumb over your clit in soft caresses while his tongue lapped at your leaking pussy. 

“Oh my God.” you groaned, tightening your hands around your ankles, “Keep that up and it won’t take me long.” 

“Mhm?” George smirked against you, turning his head slightly so he was almost resting his cheek on the dip of your thigh and your pelvis, still teasing his tongue along the slit of your cunt. Then his fingers were following and they were slicked up in his dripping spit and your warm arousal, sliding over your pussy and between your glistening lips and under his tongue and then he was slowly sinking two inside you. 

Your angelic “ahh” had him hushing you sweetly as he watched his two fingers sink deeper inside of you. His thumb pulled away from your clit and gave your doughy hip another tender squeeze as he praised you honestly, “Good girl, taking my fingers almost as good as you took my cock.”

You hummed in half appreciation, until his tongue was on your clit and you were gasping hard and arching against the bed. His hot breath on your wet skin was shiver worthy but the way his tongue dragged over your most sensitive spot had your eyes rolling. 

He started to thrust his fingers into you shallowly and as he did so, his tongue matched that pace on your clit. Your body rippled with pleasure again and you groaned loudly to the ceiling with your legs held wide for him until your hamstrings were aching. It was easy to hear how wet you were - and how wet he made you - with his fingers thrusting into you like that, nudging against your g-spot dead on with lewd squelches as you soaked his skin and dripped down his hand. His tongue flicked precisely over your clit in that same strong pace, desperate to please you as much as he could. 

You could feel that coil building inside you again and fast, and your chest heaved for breath as you struggled to keep yourself together. It was so much and so fast that you dropped your right hand from your ankle to tangle in his hair again to try and ease him up as you tossed your head back against the bed with a pleasured moan. 

Without that grip on your ankle, your leg naturally tried to close in to shut him out with the intense overwhelm. But George didn’t waste a second and, without faltering, he blindly reached out his left hand, grabbed your ankle, and shoved your leg back himself. Keeping you spread like that was just what he needed as his fingers and his tongue worked at that consistent pace that had you crying out loudly through the hotel room. He could feel you start to pulse around his fingers and he kept going even as his jaw was starting to ache slightly and your wetness was leaking down his hand. 

“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” you sobbed, gripping hard onto his hair as you felt the beginning of that pleasure wash over you fast. “Fuck, George!”

He moaned right up against you, keeping himself going even as you clenched and creamed around his fingers and you tugged at his hair, almost smothering him in your pussy that he took gladly with fingers and tongue. You shuttered through your strong orgasm, crying out his name breathily to the walls as your back arched off the bed and your legs trembled from where they were held wide open in mid-air. 

George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and he, too, was heaving for breath as he stood from the ground at the side of the bed. You lifted your hands up to run through your frazzled hair as your chest rose and fell quickly and you hid your grinning face in your palms. Your legs rested lazily down against the bed with only the slightest quiver to them as you came down from your orgasm. His hands ghosted over your knees and your shins and he stood between your legs almost proudly, staring down at your naked body laid out before him. 

“You sound so fucking beautiful when you’re so vocal like that for me.” George complimented honestly. 

“God, you don’t make it difficult.” you chuckled, finally removing your hands from your face to drop against the mattress above your head. 

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. 

You bit back your grin in his direction, “Yes, please.” 

“Yeah?” he grinned right back as he finally pulled his collared shirt from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground alongside your heels, leaving him gloriously naked for your hungry eyes to devour. He was already hard again and you shamelessly were staring, naturally spreading your legs for him with that desire to be filled again. George tugged you a little closer to the edge of the bed and then propped his left foot up beside you so he could get nice and close. 

You stayed flat on your back as he dragged the head of his cock between your lips and your wide anticipatory eyes stared up at him lustfully, fingers twisting through the ends of your hair. Then he was pushing into you slowly, moving easier now with how much wetter he made you from your recent orgasms and the familiar size of him that your body had already taken once before. But it still pushed a tight stretch across your hips and you groaned to the ceiling, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your hands grasped the sheets above your head. 

“Oh my God, you feel so fucking incredible.” you breathed. 

“Uh huh?” he set his hands on the backs of your thighs so your legs were pushed towards your chest and left you on perfect display for him to sink into as deep as he could go. Once his balls pressed against your ass, he was dropping his head forward with a breathy, “Motherfucker.”

With your pussy just teetering off the edge of the bed, you were in the perfect position for him to fuck you how he pleased although his first few strokes were slow and testing and he kept sinking into you with shaky sighs like you were a cup of tea after a long day. But he started to speed up as the seconds passed, as if his natural instinct started to take over, and soon he was thrusting into you properly in strong strokes. 

His foot that was propped up on the edge of the mattress allowed for a bit more leverage and he could get so much deeper that way, easily causing the hotel room to fill with that lewd wet smack of his skin colliding with yours again and again. You swore you could feel it in your stomach, letting him fuck the quiet breathy moans from your chest as your fingers tightened on the sheets above your head and you shut your eyes to focus on that pressure he pushed deep inside you with every snap of his hips. You dropped a hand down to press against your abdomen out of habit, desperate to feel more of him, and the way your palm added to that pressure made you whimper loudly as you stared up at him with a sweet pout. 

With each thrust, you could feel his cock nudge against your insides so strongly under your hand that it was hard to keep your eyes from rolling. You were fucking burning for it. Truly because of this, you had no choice but to reach both arms straight down to grip the edge of the mattress on either side of your body, needing something to hold onto. He wasn’t taking his eyes off yours, like he didn’t want to look at anything else for the rest of his life. Even when he wrapped his right hand around your throat and held your head down against the bed with just the right amount of pressure, he was staring dead into your eyes with his bottom lip between his teeth. He was so handsome that just the sight of his face staring at you like that had you fluttering around him.

You definitely weren’t going to be the first one to break your eye contact even as you struggled to keep yourself composed under his deep consistent strokes. Instead, you offered him the sweetest whimpers he had ever heard, the sounds falling from your pouted lips almost involuntarily at the thanks to his natural skills. The whole world fell away. 

Until he was pulling right out of you which felt like a sudden snap back to reality and you let go of the edge of the mattress to reach for him with a soft, “Give it back.”

“Turn over.” George ordered, licking away the cocky smile on his face that came from your gentle plea. “Hands and knees.”

“Oh my God.” you giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, “Yes, sir.” 

You got your knees under you and George’s hands were on your hips to adjust you where he needed you, pausing to give you a soft smack to your bum in the process. 

“You can slap me harder than that.” you encouraged. 

He tried again, getting a good spank across your ass as you were sitting back on your ankles and bent over at the waist, forearms holding you up on the bed. You looked back at him over your shoulder as he nudged the head of his cock against your pussy but you reached a hand back to grab his wrist, halting him. 

“Spank me like you fucking mean it.” you pressed strongly. 

Your demanding tone seemed to take him by surprise as he stared back at you with wide eyes for a fleeting moment before that arousing lust flashed across his face. He pulled his hand back and slapped it down hard against your ass, the sharp sound echoing through the hotel room and quickly followed by a squeal from you. 

“Yes!” you gasped, quickly cut off by another hit from his full palm, “Fuck, that’s more like it.”

“Holy fuck.” George chuckled lowly as he easily slipped his dick back inside you in one smooth motion and his hand held you down by the back of your neck, “You really don’t seem like such a fucking slut until your clothes come off, huh?” 

With your face held down against the mattress, you could only groan in reply and he gave you another hard spank with his free hand, already blushing a pink handprint against your skin, and right away he was picking up where he left off. You weren’t sure how he was so fucking good at turning you into putty in his hands but the way he fucked you kept your brain from doing too much thinking at all anyway. Your fingers bunched the sheets into your fists on either side of your head, the mattress capturing your moans into muffled sounds, and the hotel room welcomed the lewd clap of his skin against yours. 

George gave you another spank right across the ass before grabbing a snug handful of your flesh as he fucked you over the side of the bed, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust and you couldn’t help yourself but spread your knees a little wider so you could feel more of it. You swore you were drooling into the sheets, toes curling, knuckles turning as white as the duvet, and you habitually tried to arch your back deeper for him. 

“Naughty girl.” he praised strongly, giving you another echo-worthy spank across your ass. “You just bend over so fucking easy for me, don’t you?”

“Uh huh.” you answered with your sounds muffled by the bed. 

When he took his hand from the back of your neck to hold your hips in both hands, you tossed your hair over one shoulder to stay resting with your chest against the bed, trying to peek back at him from the way you were bent over at the waist. It felt so good that you just wanted more and more and you ended up reaching back to grab your ass and spread yourself open for him to hit deeper. 

George slowed down a little in surprise of your action which only made you start to fuck yourself back onto his cock yourself with a desperate whine. He lifted one hand to slip his thumb in his mouth, praising you with a rich groan as he met your little motions with gentle short thrusts of his own, staying nice and deep inside you to keep that burning pressure across your hips. But then he was dropping his hand back down and swirling the moistened pad of his thumb around your asshole before slowly slipping it inside. 

The way your body tensed right up had him hushing you sweetly, even as you cried out his name breathily towards the bed and dropped your palms back down to grip the sheets. With his thumb hooked in your ass, he let his other hand come down hard against your cheek as he started to fuck you steadily. You stretched your arms out in front of you until your fingers could wrap around the opposite edge of the mattress and your forehead rested against the sheets between your arms, allowing you to let the pleasurable moans and gasps be fucked from your throat by his precise thrusts. 

You could only focus on the sounds he made in return; those handsome moans and panted breaths that expressed nothing but pleasure as he drove himself into you again and again. It drove you crazy in the best of ways and you silently prayed he never stop fucking you, raising your gaze to the ceiling as if you were really trying to speak to God. When he pulled his thumb out of your ass again and slapped his hand down hard across your blushing cheek, you didn’t hesitate to use His name in vain either. 

George’s hand in your hair started you and he yanked you right up from the mattress so you were on your knees and your back was to his chest. You barely got your surprised gasp out of your mouth before he was wrapping his hand around your throat and suddenly fucking you so hard that your breath completely froze in your chest for a second. Eyes rolling and head dropping back against his shoulder, you gripped his wrist around your throat with one hand while your other flailed through the air dumbly for a moment as you struggled to find something to grab onto. 

“Fuck!” you finally squeaked out, louder than the erotic clap of his skin against yours in time with his rapid thrusts. 

But only seconds later, he was stopping completely and you were gasping for breath and trying to fuck yourself back on him to get him going again. You could feel his smirk against your cheek and his hot breath on your neck as he asked you outright, “Are you gonna ride my cock like a good little slut now?”

“Yeah.” you exhaled dreamily, sliding your hand up the side of his neck and into the ends of his hair to pull his lips on yours over your shoulder. 

You shared a few sloppy kisses before he was gently pushing you forward and he pulled out of you. Shifting on the bed to let him join you, your hand found its way between your legs and you rubbed impatiently at your pussy and the sensitive ache he left behind. Beautifully naked, George sat himself on the bed and shuffled towards the middle so he could comfortably rest back against the plentiful down pillows in a mostly horizontal position. He patted his thigh and held out a hand to guide you over and you happily tossed a leg over his lap to straddle him.

You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to look even better but the way he stared back up at you while you were on top of him was nothing less than thrilling. George’s hands slid up your thighs and over your hips and you reached between you to angle his dick up against your leaking pussy, easily able to sink down on him until your ass met his thighs. You shared breathy sighs in response and your palms rested flat against his chest to anchor yourself. 

“Fuck, darling.” he groaned with a lick to his lips and his hands went roaming up your torso to grab your breasts, “Why didn’t you get on top of me sooner? Look at you.”

You chuckled bashfully and gently started to bounce on him from your knees. With the pleasure that tore through you, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan fell from your parted lips, savouring each inch of him so deep inside you. 

“God, I love your fucking dick.” you spilled out honestly. 

“Yeah?” his hands moved back down to squeeze your hips, holding them a little tighter so you were forced to stop your shallow bounces. “Back and forth for me, sweetheart. Grind on it.” 

You started to rut your hips forwards and backwards on him with your hands still resting on his chest to keep yourself steady, giving you ample room to rub your clit against his pelvis while the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot at the perfect angle. Mouth falling open with pleasure, you gaped down at him behind fluttering eyes. 

“Holy shit.” you exhaled. 

“Uh huh?” he kept your eye contact as his hands on your hips started to speed you up, almost yanking you back and forth on his lap himself, “Just like that?”

“F-Fuck!” you gasped, “Yeah!” 

“Yeah, keep going, baby, show me how good that feels.”

“So fucking good, George-” you whimpered, keeping those strong strokes going yourself even when he moved his hands away from your waist. The bed was squeaking underneath you with how hard you were taking it, riding him with all the power left in you until the headboard was starting to hit the wall in messy time. The noise had you hesitating for a moment, slowing down, nervous about the neighbours for a fleeting moment. 

George just grabbed your hips again and tugged you back into the motions, “Did I say stop?”

“No.” you whined, pressing your nails into his chest as he took you over again. 

“Faster. Ride it as hard as you can.” he ordered. 

His hands grabbed your breasts as you kept going on your own again, ignoring the bed hitting the drywall and instead focused on the tingling pleasure that tore through you. Your head fell backwards and you let out a moan to the ceiling, straining from your knees on either side of his lap as your sloppy pussy squelched with each stroke on his cock that filled you right up. 

“Good girl.” he praised, “Show me who owns this cock.”

“Me.” you breathed, flicking your hips stronger on him. 

“Yeah, show me that this is your fucking dick.” 

Your eyes were struggling to stay open and the intensity that grew quickly within you had your body shuttering for a moment and you stopped yourself with a quiver. 

George’s hand slapped down hard on your ass, repeating a strong, “Did I say stop?”

“No, sir.” you groaned, ignoring the ache in your thighs to keep yourself going again. 

“That’s it.” his eyes flickered between your face and your position on his lap, his hands starting to yank you back and forth again, “Keep going. Don’t fucking slow down.”

Your face was screwed up in concentrated pleasure, whimpering for him, “I’m gonna cum.”

“More.” he ordered through his teeth, “Gimme more.”

“Yes!” you squeaked, leaning farther forward on your hands against his shoulders with your nails digging into his muscle, hips rutting hard on his lap. “Yes, fuck!” 

A few more seconds and your eyes were blurring with tears from the strain on your legs and the pleasurable pressure building in the pit of your insides, chasing that orgasm desperately. The whole world started to fall away again as he took over your senses and you were forced onto a one track mind. 

Then suddenly, George’s hands tightened on your hips and he halted your movements, “Stop.” 

Your body shuttered with the sudden change after getting you so close and you whined loudly in protest. 

“Oh,” George chuckled lowly, “feel you fucking throbbing for me.”

“So close.” you whimpered, trying to start moving again but he held you firmly in place. 

“Where are your manners?” he pressed. 

“Please?” you exhaled, peering down at him longingly with a look of desperation you couldn’t bother to hide, “Please let me cum on your cock.”

George gave you another spank, “Keep going.” 

You sat back a little more to rest one hand on his thigh while keeping your other against his chest still and you gladly took his invitation to get back to those addicting grinds. Your hair tumbled out of your face as you tilted your head back slightly, letting the uncontrollable moans fall from your pouted lips. 

George’s hands on your hips kept yanking you back and forth some more and he spoke up to you strongly, “God, you look so fucking sexy when you ride me.”

“Feels so fucking good, I wanna cum for you so bad.” you cried. 

“Show me.” he ordered, letting go of your waist again to let you take over and do it yourself. 

The lust drove you crazy as if it were some sort of out of body experience and you rode him harder, faster, stronger, despite the ache of your thighs and the sweat across your skin. You were almost dizzy and the feverish whimpers and moans that spilled from your chest were certainly no help. George was staring up at you with his bottom lip captured between his teeth, such a handsome man so willing to just let you use him. 

His large hands then grabbed your wrists, pulling you away from steadying yourself on his body so it truly was only your hips doing all the work. His blue eyes focused on where you were connected, licking his lips as the sight of you rutting yourself on him so hard that the headboard was hitting the wall, not to mention the sound of your wet pussy taking him to just prove how badly you wanted him. His fingers around your wrists tightened as he held your hands out to the side to let your hips do the talking. 

“Just like that, gorgeous, good girl.” he praised loudly, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

“I’m gonna cum.” you whimpered, hands bunching into fists from where he held them. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum!” 

George stayed quiet minus his few pleasurable sounds of his own, letting you draw yourself closer on his lap second by second. But then, just as you were tensing up, he shoved your hands aside and grabbed your hips hard, “Stop.” 

“Oh!” you shrieked at the sudden halt again, your body trying to bounce on him to make up for it but you ended up just rolling right off his lap, your legs trembling. Your knees curled towards your chest and your ankles linked together with your hand between your legs to try and ease the throbbing ache that pulsed through your cunt. With a shaky voice, you cried out a weak, “Fuck you.”

George just chuckled lowly and turned over after you, reaching above your head to grab the pillows and toss them to the floor to give you both free reign of the entire bed. His strong arms held him up on either side of you and he leaned down to kiss your neck wetly. You rolled over underneath him onto your right side, wrapping a hand around his forearm as your body trembled from being edged by him and you sunk your teeth gently into his flesh to muffle your displeased moans. 

“Such a whiny little cockslut.” George spoke against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, “Just wants to cum so fucking bad.”

You hummed in agreement just as he sat back from you on his knees and he straddled one of your legs with the other still curled up towards your chest. Your pussy was on clear display for him this way, glistening wet in the nighttime light of the city that streaked in from the open balcony curtains, and he dragged the slick head of his cock through it before sinking inside you again. Your mouth fell open with a hearty moan, eyes fluttering shut, and your hand tightened around his forearm. 

“Look at me.” George instructed as he took his hand from the mattress and, instead, pushed his index finger into your mouth. 

You turned your head slightly to open your eyes again and look at him over top of you just as he thrusted hard into you, making you moan around his finger. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” he praised as he started to thrust into you consistently, “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

You were a mess of noises and you sucked and drooled around his finger without thought, gladly accepting his cock inside you powerfully over and over again. One of your hands reached down to tug at the flesh of your ass to try and open yourself up for him at your 90-degree angle of your hips, wanting to feel every inch of him entirely through you. 

“You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he reminded you seriously. 

Pulling off his finger, you cried in protest, “It’s not enough!”

“More?” he asked. 

“Yes.” you pleaded, wrapping your hands around his forearms on either side of you. 

He fucked you harder into the bed, forcing that hot pressure to be felt deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You had never thought it was realistic for ones eyes to roll from pleasure but there you were, gaping to the ceiling with your eyes fucking rolling for him from the euphoria that rose a sheen sweat across your bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes-” you chanted heartily. 

“Mhm?” George reached a hand up to the top of the upholstered headboard, giving himself more leverage to thrust into you, while his other grabbed your thigh and pushed your leg closer to your chest to spread you open wider. 

“Oh, fuck!” you squeaked, habitually turning your face away from him and into the sheets instead to muffle your overwhelming moans as your fingers clutched the linens. It was almost as if you were trying to claw yourself away from him, torn between wanting more and being overwhelmed with the intensity of it all. 

George put you right back in your place with a hand around your throat, pinning you back down against the mattress so you were staring up at him and his peaked brows as he ordered, “Look at me.”

“I’m-” you shuttered, “so close-”

“Look at me when you cum.” he demanded, tightening his hand around your throat, “Don’t fucking look away from me.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you squeaked, your nose scrunching up with how quickly he was getting you there again. You pleaded with him without tearing your eyes away from his, “Please can I cum?”

“Yeah, cum for me, baby. Squeeze my cock and cum all over me.” 

You tried to keep his eye contact but as your body tensed up and the pleasure had your ears ringing, you had no choice but to scrunch your eyes shut as your head arched from the bed and your broken cry was expressed to the ceiling. George groaned lowly as you squeezed right around him when you came, creaming all over his cock as you shuttered underneath him, and in seconds he was pulling out of you. 

He shoved your leg to the side so you were flat on your back and spread properly for him and his hand took to his cock himself, stroking himself off in quick flicks of his wrist right over top of you. You just stared up at him with mouth parted in near awe at how he sparkled in the city lights through the window under that handsome sheen of sweat across his toned body. And his moans were something else, so erotic and angelic that you could have listened to him until the end of time, and you reached down to help him with your gentle hand. Only a few more pumps and he was coming right up your stomach with a broken groan and an extra little squeeze of your hand around the swollen head, pulling more pretty streaks of white out of him to paint your stomach and your pelvis in his essence. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed, sliding your hand up his abs and his chest as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You shared a few hot breathless kisses before he was leaving one more to your collarbone and another between your breasts and then he was settling between your legs and guiding them up towards your chest. Your fingers raked through his hair with a gentle warning, “My God, George-”

His mouth was on your clit again in a fleeting moment, making your whole body jolt in sensitivity, but he held you securely on his mouth even as your strained moans reached all four walls of the hotel room. You were gaping dumbly to the ceiling as your arms straightened completely with your fingers tangled in his hair as if wanting to get him away from you, back arching off the bed and toes curling in mid air. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you squealed, only getting louder and pitchier as he sucked on your clit. 

George smothered himself in your pussy with his fingers pressing indentations into your thighs, taking you over with his tongue like you were his last meal. You were so sensitive too that it was hard to keep still and you were gasping and whining to the hot air of the hotel room, tugging at his hair until he was groaning up against you. 

“Christ.” he huffed as he pulled away from you with a filthy slurp, “You taste fucking incredible.”

You barely had a second to catch your breath before his fingers were gliding between your lips and shoving back inside your snug cunt, taking him in gladly. He stared at your body taking him in with all the lust in the world, you swore, and his teeth captured his bottom lip in near concentration as he fingered you possessively in precise purposeful thrusts. It was obvious how aroused you were by the squishy wet sound of his fingers inside you and it made him just have to lean back down to lap at your clit again. 

“Oh my God.” you said through your teeth, dropping your head back against the bed with your eyes screwed shut. 

“Too much?” he asked you as he pulled away from your pussy again, keeping his fingers going. 

“Little.” you confessed shakily. 

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

The insistence behind your reply made him chuckle lowly and with his two fingers still knuckle deep inside you, he shifted between your legs to rest a bit more at your side. You took that brief moment to breathe and your hands pushed your tangled hair out of your face before resting on the mattress on either side of your head. Nude and spread for him, you let him do as he pleased to you in the nakedness of his own, loving how he took you over like he had known you for your whole life…like you were his to play with. And the way he so obviously loved to bring you pleasure was insanely attractive. 

Once situated slightly to your right and facing your body, George’s fingers were starting to curl up against that soft squishy spot inside you while his left hand raised to his mouth to suck on two more fingers. You gently grasped the fitted sheet under your head, lip captured by your teeth, staring up at him with blown wide eyes that held the expression that made him want to ruin you. He pulled his fingers from his mouth and set them down gently against your swollen clit, hushing you sweetly as your body jumped under his tender touch. 

“That’s my good girl.” he whispered, finding a matching pace with his two hands - one inside you and one out. 

You succumbed to him so easily, the soft moans tumbling from your bitten lip as you stared at him, still covered in his cum like he owned you. And honestly, it felt like he truly did. Every single touch he offered you felt like pure electricity, complete erotic bliss filling your senses all over again. 

“Feels so fucking good.” you exhaled, eyes focused on his face. 

“Uh huh?” George tore his eyes away from your pussy to meet your gaze, allowing his fingers to move a little faster; one rubbing at your clit and the other reaching that perfect spot inside you. “Think you wanna cum for me again?” 

“Yeah.” you exhaled. “You make me cum so fucking hard.”

“Mhm.” he licked away his smirk and looked back down to his task at hand, “And you take it so well, gorgeous.” 

He kept those consistent shallow curls of his two fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot right on until your breaths were falling shallower again. Your head arched back against the mattress with a small groan, your legs struggling to keep themselves open, and you grasped tighter onto the fitted sheet. George hummed in appreciation for how easily you took it and he shifted again at your side to rise up a little onto his knees for a new angle, removing his hand from your clit to hold your leg closest to him to the side. Then, with his occupied arm perfectly straight, he could really work those precise curls of his fingers against your g-spot in harder upwards jabs. 

“O-Oh-” you gasped shakily, dropping a hand down out of natural habit to try and lessen the intense feeling but you stopped yourself at your stomach, your hand haphazardly swiping through the mess of cum that was still streaked across your sweaty skin. Your middle finger inched to your clit where you rubbed yourself a little as if he needed any help. 

George’s jaw was clenched with how seriously he was taking it, fingering you strongly until his bicep was bulging and your thighs were trembling with the quick onset of pleasure. The heat was rising across your body again with the blood rushing to your ears until you swore you could hear ringing but the pressure that was building in the depths of your stomach took the cake. It felt tingly and dangerous and you tried to slide your hand down to cover yourself. 

“I have to pee-” you whimpered, as if in a futile attempt to stop him, barely heard over the ridiculously wet sound of your pussy. 

“Feels like it, huh?” he taunted strongly with his fingers still engraving him into that precious spot inside you with the power of his entire arm, “Give into that for me, darling.”

“I don’t-” your body shuttered, “I’m-”

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Don’t hold anything back.”

Your moans only grew pitchier and pitchier until you were literally squealing to the ceiling and your hands were flying out to grab onto his thigh and the duvet. The pleasure was insane until the whole world fell away and your vision went spotted for a second followed by a rush of relief. You cried out for him loudly as the first trickle slipped out of you and he was pulling his fingers out to let you squirt all over the bed and him. 

“Good girl.” he praised loudly through his teeth before shoving his fingers back inside you to keep you going through your orgasm. “That’s my good girl! Make a fucking mess for me, baby.” 

Your thighs curled up towards your body until you were nearly squeezing him out with broken pleasured sobs falling from your chest, grabbing his wrist between your legs to try and get him out of you as the pleasure tapered off. Writhing against the dampened sheets, you were soaked in sweat, cum, and your own liquids, and even the ghost of his breath on your skin had your whole body flinching with sensitivity. 

“That’s enough.” you panted, leaving your hand around his wrist even as he pulled it out of you. “Holy shit, I almost blacked out.”

“You okay?” George chuckled and shifted down beside you, laying half on top of you as he brushed your hair out of your face and let his eyes scan your features. 

“Yeah.” you lifted your head up to look down your body at your quivering legs and the mess of wetness you left behind across the perfect white sheets. “Fuck, I’ve never squirted before.”

George smiled proudly against your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth, “My pleasure.” 

You slid your fingers into the back of his hair and guided his lips to yours, sharing a few sloppy breathless kisses before his head was resting against your shoulder with a content sigh. His arm laid heavy around your middle and even laying together in the nude, the air conditioning of the hotel room didn’t do much to cool your sweaty bodies. 

“I think I need some water.” you whispered. 

George was moving away from you and got off the bed right away, “I got it.”

He disappeared just around the corner to the small built in bar where he grabbed two glasses and then filled them in the bathroom sink. When he returned, your eyes couldn’t help but soak him up in his glorious nakedness in the moonlight and by the warmth of the bedside sconces. Never have you known a man so handsome and perfect that it made your heart skip a beat even when he wasn’t necessarily doing anything to justify your lust. But maybe it was those rose-coloured glasses talking since he had just given you the most erotic and pleasurable night of your entire life. 

The water glass felt heavy in your hands but you took it from him with thanks and you sat yourself up slightly before sipping the water with relief, not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. George settled himself onto the bed beside you and leaned back against the upholstered headboard with a sigh and a drink from his own glass. It was almost surprising how quickly you downed your drink and soon you were setting the empty glass on the bedside table before turning to face him. 

With those pleasure hormones still swirling through your brain and your bloodstream, you just wanted to get closer and you slid your hand up his bare chest and around the side of his neck as your lips met his smooth jaw for a lingering kiss. George smiled and rubbed your thigh before gently guiding your leg over his just to keep your body as close as possible to his. Your sweaty skin stuck together faintly as if to remind you how you felt as one that night.

He turned his head to you slightly, nudging your cheek with his nose to silently urge your face towards his so your lips could meet in a slow sensual kiss. You lingered there for a moment together, motionless, lips locked, breathless and sweaty, until he was pulling away gently. He licked his lips habitually and seemed to inhale you contentedly with his eyes half closed in pure peaceful bliss. The moment of silence lingered between you as if the reality of your situation was starting to settle and yet your minds swirled with thoughts surrounding nothing but each other. 

Your hand on the side of his neck guided his lips back to yours and he leaned into you gladly, sharing in your dreamy kisses that had your insides curling with lust after he had given you the absolute most. It was crazy and unheard of to be so greedy, but he was a drug to you and you only craved him more. You exchanged slow open mouthed kisses that could pass as nothing but chasté if it weren’t for the setting and the circumstance you found yourselves in. The taste of his lips was addicting and the fact that the reminisce of your own arousal still clung to him and teased your senses as you dragged your tongue along his bottom lip was dizzying. 

George pulled away from you long enough to reach past you and set his empty water glass on the bedside table beside your own before he was licking away his smile and guiding you in by the chin to kiss you some more. Without the barrier of water glasses or clothes, you embraced each other urgently in warm arms and sweet kisses, sharing breaths as one amidst your dance of lips and tongues. And, with a sudden influx of bravery that coursed through you, you shifted at his side and tossed your leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. 

His hands guided you gladly, letting you sit rightfully on his lap as his tongue helped itself into your mouth and against your own while your fingers were tangled in his hair to pull him impossibly closer. Your body arched into his as if needing to feel every inch of his skin against yours and his hands on your waist wrapped tighter around you until your chest was flush against his. It was as if the previous escapades were forgotten about as the fire that burned between you was stronger than ever and you could start to feel his dick hardening underneath you and you ground down on him faintly to feel more of it. 

George’s soft groan tasted heavenly and you sucked on his tongue for a moment before pulling out of his kiss and dragging your hands down his shoulders and his chest. His fingers caressed your hips and along your spine and you stared at each other for a moment as you let the feeling of your body heat lure your hearts closer. But then he was leaning in again and capturing your lips in another feverish kiss that had you giggling into his mouth, your hands holding his face in your palms. 

Between his insistent kisses, you pleaded with him sweetly, “Please can you fuck me again?”

“Again?” he chuckled lowly as he broke your kiss, brushing his nose across your cheek as you held onto each other. “Blimey, has no one ever fucked you properly before? Never had a man as generous as me?”

“No.” you replied easily, ready and willing to butter him up to get that reward you craved. 

“Mhm?” he shifted underneath you without breaking your eye contact, turning you both over so you could be laid down on the bed again while he taunted you lustfully, “Or are you just that much of a slut that you just can’t get enough dick?”

“I’m your slut.” you answered with a giddy grin that you tried to bite back, pulling him down by your hand at the back of his neck to get his lips on yours again. 

His body rested heavily on top of you and your ankles tucked behind his calves to hold him close, slinging your arm around his back with your nails pressing greedily into the toned muscle of his shoulders. He spoke into your mouth with his lips brushing yours, his voice low and rich, “You’re fucking crazy and I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Fuck me.” you begged strongly. 

George pushed himself away from you long enough to grab your thighs and shove them up towards your chest so when he leaned back down over top of you, your ankles were resting against his shoulders. He licked his fingers and then dropped that hand down between your legs to smear across your soaked pussy before the head of his cock was taking its place. His eyes met yours, “You sure you can take more?”

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

He took your words as truth and then slowly pushed his stiffening cock inside you, catching himself with flat hands against the mattress on either side of your head and his eyes locked on yours. You held onto the side of his neck with your legs stretched messily up to his shoulders until your thighs burned just as much as your insides but you’d never dream of stopping him. 

You were so achingly sensitive and growing sore from your long night but you had missed the feeling of being filled by him until you were stretched out around the girth of his cock, mouthing to no one in particular, “Oh my God.” 

George’s lips were on yours again in an instant and you moaned happily into his sloppy kiss as he started to grind deeper into you. You clung onto him warmly and when you couldn’t get him close enough, he let your legs move from his shoulders to around his waist. That also gave him a bit more freedom of movement and he ducked his face in your neck as he started to thrust into you properly. 

Gasping into the hot air of the Parisian hotel room, you let your nails press into his back as he fucked you for the nth time that evening and it still felt just as gloriously good as the first time. He was still growing harder inside you until every thrust was delivered with strong curling precision that had your eyes rolling. 

“Holy fuck,” you whimpered, “How are you still so fucking hard?” 

George’s low chuckle fell against your neck and he shifted a little bit closer to you to thrust harder into your sopping cunt, “You don’t make it difficult.” 

You meant to smile but the growing intensity of his dick pistoning inside you had your face fluttering with waves of intense pleasure that teetered on the border of pain with thanks to how sensitive you were by then. You were trying to keep your breath steady but he had a way of fucking the air from your lungs until you were holding your breath to try and feel every ounce of pleasure from him as well as holding yourself back from the pressure of his cock nudging against your cervix. 

“Harder.” you pleaded to him. “Fuck me harder.”

“Naughty girl.” he pushed away from you slightly to get his hand around your throat again.

He pinned you down against the mattress that way with the perfect squeeze and your hands clutched onto his biceps as you peered up at him above you. He was getting rough with it again and those pretty moans found their way past your lips once more, blessing the hotel room alongside the rhythmic sound of the headboard starting to hit the wall. Your eyes were rolling for him, jaw clenched, your body tense with steadily rising pleasure. 

“Don’t pass out on me.” he warned seriously with only a hint of teasing to his tone. 

“Mm mm.” you shook your head faintly with your eyes scrunching shut. Your hands slid up his biceps to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer the best you could. 

“Want me like this?” he asked as he lowered himself on top of you again, staying perfectly close with your legs around his waist so his every thrust hit as deep as possible. 

“Mhm, fuck.” you whimpered, tangling one hand in the back of his hair and dragging the other across his back. 

“You feel so damn good.” he exhaled against your cheek, breathless from the effort he was putting into you. “So fucking perfect I never wanna pull out.”

“Don’t.” you held onto him tighter. “Don’t fucking stop.” 

The way he fucked you into the cloud-like king size bed had you swearing it was all a dream, far too good to be true. He fit inside you so perfectly that you swore your bodies were made for each other, entangled as one, just like it was meant to be. You hardly knew him but you were so attached - a connection stemmed from shared pleasure and the most intimate moments of human nature. 

George wasn’t going to last much longer after the extensive night you had already shared and proof of that was only shown in the way his hips shoved sloppier against yours like he was chasing something hungrily, his arms around your head and his face in your neck. He was all over you. The erotic creak of the mattress underneath you made shivers tear up your arms as if in reminder of how well he treated you body, how he made you moan and writhe and sweat like you never knew possible. So many firsts given to this handsome stranger.

You couldn’t help yourself but want more. 

The words left your mouth in a soft tremble as he fucked you into the duvet, “You know something else I’ve never had?”

“What’s that, my love?” he replied breathily against your jaw without missing a beat. 

“I’ve never had someone cum inside me.”

George groaned and slumped his forehead onto your shoulder, “Fuck, darling-” 

“Please cum inside me.” the urgency made your heart race and you linked your ankles together behind his back as if physically trying to convince him.

“I-”

“Please? I wanna feel you cum so fucking deep inside me. Wanna feel your perfect fucking cock throbbing inside me while you fill me up.”

Despite your startling pleas, he didn’t stop fucking you as if driven by a desire outside of himself, even if his words tried to argue gently in reply, “That’s so fucking dangerous, baby.”

“Show me I’m yours.” you ignored him, dragging your nails across his back, “Please cum with me.” 

“Shit, are you sure?” 

“Yes. Please, sir.” 

“Oh my God.” he groaned through his teeth, wrapping himself in you as you shared the journey to that blissful conclusion. 

It wasn’t difficult for you to get there either as your previous escapades had left you terribly sensitive and the warm pressure that he pushed into the depths of your body with every sharp thrust was building that sensation inside you. You held onto him tightly, bodies moving as one, breaths shared, the hotel bed housing your desperate sloppy one night stand that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop.” you squeaked out, fingers pressing into his back and raking your nails across his skin, “You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“That’s my good girl. Fucking cum with me.” 

“Don’t pull out.”

“Won’t.” 

“Please.”

“Fuck-”

It was the first wave of your orgasm that sent him over the edge himself, that first grip of your pussy around his aching dick that shot pleasure up his spine until he was shuttering in your arms and moaning into your neck. You clung onto him tightly, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as if trying to keep yourself quiet as you squealed and cried out through your uncountable orgasm of the night. But the feeling of him coming inside you was even better than the dopamine hit and your heels pressed into his bum to tug him as deep as possible, whimpering against his cheek as he filled you with thick warm spurts. 

“Fuck.” you squeaked, barely heard over his own euphoric groans as his sharp thrusts died down into curling grinds to really make the most of it, giving you every last drop. You whimpered his name against his ear and his lips found yours blindly in an off-centered kiss that was more tongue than grace. You held his face in your trembling hands and he let his entire body weight rest on top of you for a moment as you shared a few more breathless kisses. 

“Well,” he exhaled out of your kiss, “What happens in Paris…” 

You let out a soft giggle and he carefully shifted away from you so he was sitting back on his knees before slowly pulling out. Your hand reached down to take his place, sliding your fingers along your slick pussy and just inside, feeling how wet you were thanks to the both of you. And as your muscles clenched and released from the ending of your orgasm, his cum was starting to be pushed out of you and you gladly let it drip onto your fingers. 

“Holy fuck, it feels so good.” you breathed, lifting your head up to look down your body to where your hand was positioned between your legs. 

George just smirked proudly down at you, gently caressing your quivering thighs with his fingertips as he watched you lazily play with yourself. He spoke to you softly, “Can I get you water and a towel?” 

His manners had you smiling up at him and you nodded, “Yes, please.” 

“Okay,” he patted your thigh, “be right back.”

He took your empty glasses from the bedside table and disappeared around the corner into the bathroom again, leaving you for a moment alone on the king size bed. Your fingers fell to a stop between your legs just coated in his cum while your head lolled to the side slightly to peer out the balcony windows to see the glittering Eiffel Tower in the near distance. It was such a dream. 

George returned to you shortly and joined you back in bed with your water and a towel. You took the towel first and shuffled it underneath you before using the edge to mop up the worst of what spilled back out of you; even if it was all too late for the duvet to be spared. The two of you then shared in the silence and the appreciated hydration, side by side. You were utterly exhausted and your head rested against his shoulder even as you slowly sipped your water and his hand rubbed innocent circles on your bare thigh. 

“Was this all okay for you?” he asked after a few moments. 

“Yeah,” you said, “It was so perfect.”

“Perfect?” he chuckled. 

“Mhm.” you wrapped your hand around his bicep to hold him close, “I swear to God, I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life.”

He kissed your head, “Me too.”

“I should clean myself up a little.” you shifted away from him and sat up a little straighter, glancing down at yourself and the mess of the night that was left behind between hand prints, hickeys, and drying ribbons of cum across various body parts. George let you go. 

While you took to the bathroom on wobbly legs to do your business and wipe yourself down with a cool damp cloth, George tidied up the hotel room and brought in your clothes and your drinks from the balcony. By the time everything was arranged and you were cleaned up, you emerged from the bathroom in your shy nakedness as he was putting the half empty bottle of champagne in its bucket of melted ice on the mini bar. He had the modesty of underwear by then after having snagged it from where his briefs had been discarded on the balcony earlier in your evening plans but he was unbothered by the vast expanse of your body and his hand inched around your waist to lead you closer. 

“You okay?” he asked, his thumb caressing the small of your back. 

“Yeah. I’m just really tired. I should call a cab.” you whispered. 

“Stay.” he offered, “I don’t want you navigating the city this late and this exhausted.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Of course, I’m sure. I’d love it if you stayed.”

A small smile dusted over the corner of your lips, “Okay. Thank you.”

You both leaned in at the same time for a fleeting kiss before you were slipping past him and farther into the hotel room. He directed you to your clothes that were draped on the lounge chair in the corner and you followed his lead to just pull your underwear on and nothing else. The concept of spending the night with him was almost just as thrilling as the concept of hooking up with him as the promise of feeling his skin against yours made your heart race. 

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked as you climbed under the heavy and well used duvet. 

“Noon.” you sighed, “And I still have to stop by my hotel to grab my things.”

“That’s not bad.” 

He joined you in the bed like he had been doing it every day of his life and you naturally shifted closer to each other under the sheets. Even though he was a stranger, you felt so safe with him and with his arms around you, sleep seemed to take you over all too easily, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat without another word spoken.

You had fallen asleep with the curtains open so as morning rose, the bright light woke you naturally. Blinking away the faint headache from your alcohol infused night, you tried to place your surroundings and orient your dizzy brain properly. George’s arm tossed around your waist  brought you back to reality with ease and you smiled faintly at the memories that flooded your conscience. He was sprawled on his stomach and snoring faintly, his body tucked right up beside yours, and for a second, you just stared at him. His bare back was exposed under the slipping white sheets and you gently traced the red scratches you had left him as a souvenir across his caramel skin. 

The stiffness in your limbs was obvious and you soon had to shift and stretch, ultimately jostling him enough to rouse him slightly. He sighed heavily and reached a hand up to rub his eyes and his face as he rolled onto his back. 

“Sorry.” you whispered. 

“S’okay.” he mumbled, his voice deep and rich with lingering sleep. 

It made your heart flutter.

Laying on his back now, he draped an arm above his head and tousled his fingers through his messy hair, blinking his eyes open to look at you through the unpleasant morning light that had just started to peek over the horizon. He held his arm out again despite you shifting and invited you in, “C’mere.” 

You licked away your smile and shuffled closer to him so you could melt into his side with his arm around your shoulder. Laying together in that heavenly bed, you shared in the view of the Eiffel Tower blessed by the morning sun as it rose into the sky of pinks and oranges with teasing hints of brilliant blue. With his arm that wasn’t around your shoulders, George's hand found yours over the sheets that kept you decent, tracing your fingers with his and then intertwining them tenderly. For the uncountable time since meeting him, you silently swore that this was heaven. 

“You hungry?” he asked after a few long minutes of serenity. 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, not having thought about it until that moment, “starving, actually.”

George took his arm from around your shoulders and he leaned across the bed to his night stand where the hotel phone was. In a tangle of sheets, he lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk to order you both a huge breakfast spread from room service. As he did so, you greedily reached out to brush a hand through his messy brunette hair and down his muscular back, watching how you drew goosebumps in your wake. 

While your food was prepared, the two of you watched the Parisian sunrise in bed together, sharing kisses and caresses and perfect silence like this was your shared romantic vacation. For a fleeting moment, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was. 

George’s finger trailed down your neck to the hickey that stained your skin and he tapped it gently, “Airport security is gonna give you some weird looks.”

You hide your bashful smile into his shoulder, “We made some bad decisions last night.”

“I think we made great decisions.” he countered.

“Mm, yeah.” you agreed easily, “They were pretty great, huh?”

“You sore?”

“Quite. But in a good way.”

His hand captured your jaw and gently guided your lips to his for a few lingering kisses. 

When you pulled away and rested your palm against his bare chest, you confessed quietly, “I still can’t get over how you knew just how I liked it without me needing to tell you.”

“All in your body language, baby.” he replied modestly as your eyes met, “You’re so easy to read.”

“You’re such a gentleman.”

You both leaned in at the same time for more kisses, smiling into each other’s mouths. 

Room service came shortly after and George got out of bed to let the bellboy in with the rolling table filled with French breakfast, even if he was only in his underwear. He made sure to tip the young man and your eyes lingered on the €50 bill he passed over like it was nothing alongside his thanks. You sat in the middle of the cloud-like bed in a pool of sheets and George shifted all the plates onto the duvet so you could share your feast together in bed. 

Crepes and waffles and fresh fruit and sausages and mimosas felt never-ending but you swore it was the most delicious meal you had since arriving in Paris - but maybe it was your company and your well expected hunger that just made it feel so much more rewarding. The view of the Eiffel Tower certainly wasn’t anything to complain about either. 

With plates emptied and appetites fulfilled, you lounged back together against the headboard, cuddled up close. Your eyes were closed peacefully with your heads leaning together and George’s gentle touches to your arm with the back of his finger felt homely. You knew you had a plane to catch but it was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Kinda don’t wanna get outta bed.” you confessed quietly. 

“Mm,” George agreed, “me neither.”

“Could stay here forever.”

“Me too.”

A pause. 

“Thank you for last night.” you said. 

“Thank you for last night.”

“Lots of firsts.”

George chuckled faintly, “Oh, yes.”

You shared peaceful breathy laughter and he turned his head to kiss your temple and then your cheek and then you let him kiss your lips. 

“You have a plane to catch.” he reminded you. 

A sad smile came to your lips and you replied with a barely audible, “I know.”

With another kiss and no complaint, you tore yourself out of his arms and out of his bed and walked across the carpeted floor to your clothes. He watched you dress from the bed with fondness in his features and you ignored the pit in your stomach that grew with your fast approaching parting. When you were dressed and ready to go, you turned to him. 

“Now what?” you asked. 

George slid out of bed to join you with that handsome smile of his, “Now what, what?”

“I’ve never…done this before so I don’t know the proper protocol for leaving.” you rambled. 

“You just kiss me goodbye.” he shrugged, guiding you closer by your hands. 

Part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to say goodbye but your mouth abandoned you. So you kissed him once more, lingering on those heavenly plush lips of his, before time was pulling you apart. 

“You’re gonna make some guy into the absolute luckiest bastard on this planet some day.” George said like it was what you needed to hear. 

You gave his hands a squeeze, and let your gaze linger on his face as if trying to memorize the man you had no pictures of. 

“Good bye, George.” you breathed. 

He let your hands slip out of his, “Till we meet again, my love.”

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[mariasont]

Sundress Season - S.R

a/n: spent all friday & saturday writing so sorry 4 dumping so many works 2night lololol

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer decides to come help you out with some research and gets a little more than he bargained for

warnings: fluff, thigh kink if you SQUINT LIKE SQUINT

wc: 0.9k

You crossed one leg over the other, your nails drumming against the table, while your eyes bored holes into the book that lay open in your lap. You loved reading, more than most people, but when it was something you were interested in, not when the pages were smeared with the arcane symbols of mathematical algorithms that you could not seem to comprehend. It was giving you a migraine. 

At the call of your name, your head lifted abruptly, a welcome excuse the cast aside the loathsome book, expecting your coffee to be awaiting you at the counter. You weren't, however, expecting to see Spencer standing there. Your brows knitted together in a moment of confusion before you face relaxed into a warm, welcoming smile.

"Spence? Hey, what are you doing here?" 

"JJ said you were researching the neural network algorithms," Spencer said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement as he pulled out the chair across from you. "I figured I could lend a hand."

“Oh, bless your heart, Dr. Reid,” you praised, hand dramatically pressed to your heart, “I could kiss you.”

The subtle rosiness that blossomed on Reid’s cheeks didn’t escape your notice, and you couldn’t deny the small thrill of saying things designed to elicit the delightful blush. It was cute.

“May I?” he asks, gesturing towards the book, ignoring your words.

You give a nod and pass it over, his fingers brushing over yours in the process. It was hard not to stare at his face, admittedly, your scientific knowledge (or any knowledge) didn’t rival his, yet surely there was some explanation for why you found him so attractive.

You watched, curiously, as he made quick work of the pages, absorbing the information with the ease of a child flipping through a picture book. Maybe that was it—his intelligence, now that wasn’t far off. I mean, who didn’t want a man who could effortlessly recite pi to the hundredth decimal?

You found yourself following the lines of his face— from the subtle shadows under his eyes to the rhythmic movement of his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he concentrated, down to the soft dip of his lips. God, he was so beautiful. And even that term barely did him justice.

Your blatant starring was broken only when you realized his lips were moving.

“Yeah, totally,” you said, bobbing your head in agreement, clueless to his actual words but hoping you said the right thing.

He regarded you with a puzzled glance, his brow raised while carefully marking his place in the book. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

That famous, gorgeous smile of his spread across his face as his eyes darted around the coffee shop. His fingers patted his cheek thoughtfully in silent, teasing challenge.

“Wait, what?”

“The issue was with adjusting the weight initialization to prevent the vanishing gradient problem,” he remarked with an easy shrug. “Seems like the perfect time for that well-deserved kiss.”

His words sent a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks. Was he serious? You decided you didn’t care. Rising just enough to meet him, you cupped his face and planted a sloppy kiss against his cheek. As your drew back, you couldn’t help but delight in the sight of his ears, now tinted with a charming blush of red.

The intimate bubble burst as the barista’s voice rang out, announcing that your coffee was, in fact, prepared at last. You tapped his nose lightly before standing fully. “My hero.”

Spencer watched with a slack jaw as you walked away from the table, his eyes drawn to your thighs. The air seemed to escape him in a rush, his gaze locked on your outfit, now fully revealed as you stood up. He was so used to seeing you in dress pants, he’d never seen you in a dress, a sundress at that.

He was already burning from the feeling of your lips on his cheek but now it was spreading through every part of him as he traced your curves before landing once again on your supple thighs. God, you were beautiful, and that ass—

He was on the cusp of entertaining some rather less-than-holy ideas when the shrill ring of his phone intervened. He mentally berated the caller, wishing to preserve every detail of your image in his mind. Morgan. Naturally.

He swiped deftly at the phone, realizing it was FaceTime. Morgan’s head filled the screen, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in Spencer’s appearance.

“Morning, lover boy.”

Spencer was unsure what he meant. “Huh?”

Morgan simply flicked his cheek with a smirk. “Looks like ya missed a spot, hot stuff.”

Spencer’s face warmed with a fresh flush, hastily angling the phone away, his fingers working to erase the lipstick stain.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, man! You on a hot date or something? C’mon, Reid, who’s the lucky lady?”

Once assured his skin was free of the pink evidence, Spencer lifted the phone again. He didn’t get a chance to ask Morgan’s reason for calling, as your face appeared behind him, curiously glancing at the phone.

“Oh, hey Morgan!”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “No way! You’re kidding me! Penelope is going to freak—,”

His words were cut short as Spencer swiftly hung up.

[loserlvrss]

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 l. minho ( 이민호 )

synopsis | minho will always take care of who he loves, and you love that.

pairing : lee minho x fem!reader genre : drabble, domestic fluff warnings : mentions of being sick & food, skinship word count : 0.6k authors note : i know u know lee know btw

“just sit down,” your boyfriend was pushing you into the barstool beside the kitchen island.

your arms crossed over your front, features pouting. “you know, minho, i’m sick, not useless.” you exaggerated with your hands, swinging them out beside you. “i can—i can, i don’t know, cut up the carrot or something!”

he smiled adoringly at you, like one would a cute animal or small child, and shook his head. “what kind of chef boyfriend would i be if i made you do the work?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing that it was ultimately useless to argue with the lee minho; he’d get what he wanted in the end. and frankly, you weren’t good at cooking. that’s why you two worked so well, he had his little hobby to destress and you were always fed. a win-win.

so, when you woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache, only sleeping a couple hours after that, he was quick to jump into the kitchen. he wanted to make you something his mom would make when he was sick as a kid—you found the gesture sickeningly sweet. he must really love you, you thought.

he’d gotten started in silence. usually he’d let you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, but he’d never pry if you didn’t feel like it. and, today must’ve been one of those days, as you just watched with closed lips.

he looked so beyond good when he cooked—arguably better than the food. and nothing was more attractive than his desire to take care of you. he didn’t even go back to sleep until he knew you were okay, trailing you into the bathroom and getting you medicine before you even asked. he made sure you were warm and properly cuddled under the blankets (in his arms), rubbing your back until peacefully off in dreamland.

honestly, you owe those couple of hours to him.

“hey, minho?” the silence was finally broken, your boyfriend stopping all his movements for a second and looking at you. his eyebrows rose in a non-verbal approval to go on and ask. “i know we’re already dating, but i have a big crush on you. i just thought you should know.”

he huffed out a laugh, “is that so?”

“yeah, in case you want to do anything with that knowledge.” you admitted innocently, “like marriage or something.”

“i plan on it, love.”

you made a face, something between disbelief, mock-disgust and blushing. “if you were over here i’d kiss you… thrice.”

he eyed you suspiciously, “you just didn’t want to say twice ‘cause then i’d start dancing to alcohol free.”

“maybe,” you joked, getting from your chair and making your way around the counter. he pretended to be offended, steadily chopping up the various vegetables again, and ignoring you. “you know i love your one-man show, baby.”

he smirked slightly—though you couldn’t see—but still was childishly giving you the silent treatment. you pleaded, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his clothed spine once, before pressing your cheek to it. “there’s literally no one else i’d rather listen to sing red velvet while they shower.”

“i knew you listened, weirdo.” he chuckled, “if you wanted me to sing to you, i would, you don’t have to creep around.”

you lightly squeezed, “oh, shut up.”

and then suddenly he burst out into song, scaring you, but then sending you into a fit of giggles as the choreography soon followed; the knife safely out of his grip.

you watched in awe of his playfulness, disguised by straight lips and lidded eyes. you really couldn’t read a book by its cover, you thought, because this stupidly-handsome book always knew how to make you feel better.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet

taglist : @seomisaho @mystarsohee @jihyokat | send an ask to be added. 

back to masterlist !

[perfctvelvet]

can you do sabrina carpenter!!

Happy Fucking New Year; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, alcohol mention, semi-public (hooking-up in the bathroom of some rich person's house), making out, oral sex

No one wanted to be alone this New Years and you were no exception. The only problem was that your friend, the one who happens to the social butterfly brought you to a party where you don't know anyone here besides her. Everyone was dressed to the nines; shimmering dresses with make up to match and expensive suits. Having a friend who works in PR was an unexpected perk in her life, but having a friend who works in PR means when you're out they're always in networking mode. Coming here, to some random person's mega-mansion, was thrilling at first but the shine was beginning to dull immediately.

You had lost your friend somewhere in the fray of the fancy just less than an hour before midnight. Many people were here with partners, spouses, and lovers, and to you it seemed like you and your friend were the only single ones. You didn't let it get to you because you had her, but now she was gone. All you had was your too-small purse and a vodka soda you weren't a big fan of.

Just as the night couldn't get more painful, someone bumps into you. There was no love lost for the beverage that you spilled but now it was all over your dress. You may have been feeling alone, but your dress was the only thing you had. You got it one random day in the summer at the encouragement of your friend that she will give you a reason to wear it. You felt confident walking out of the car tonight and into the party. That was only two hours ago and oh how everything seemed to cave in.

"Fuck! I'm so, so sorry!"

This woman who bumped into you sounded sincere in her apologies. At first you thought you were being mocked, but the way she tried to wipe off your dress before it could stain seemed too real.

"I-It's okay."

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her. Instead you were looking around you at the people who were beginning to look at the commotion. You were hoping to lock eyes with your friend so she could rescue you, but she was still nowhere to be found.

"Ugh! C'mon!"

Before you could register what was going on, you were being dragged away by the woman who ruined your dress. You were too relieved by being saved from the embarrassment to make a fuss. She lead you to one of the many guests bathroom in the house. She was bold, shutting the door behind you two and almost forcing you to sit on the counter. She grabbed one of the fancy, embroidered towels and wets it to continue her efforts to save your dress. Even though you appreciated her eagerness to fix her mistake, you can't help but be enamored and a little amused by the situation.

"It was just a vodka soda. Don't worry, it's not going to stain my dress."

It seems as if your voice is what gets to her. She slowly stops frantically wiping off the parts of your dress that is covered in vodka and looks up at you. She's stunning, so much so that you begin to lose your confidence.

"I hope I didn't take you away from whoever you cam here with." She finally puts the towel down and you get to hear her voice in a more relaxed state.

"No, no, I just came with a friend, but I lost her somewhere so I was just kind of by myself." You felt like a loser saying that out loud, but something lights up in the stranger's eyes at your confession.

"Glad I'm not the only one here feeling a little dejected."

"What do you mean?"

She points to the spot next to you, gesturing if she could sit beside you. There was plenty of space on the counter and she didn't have to ask, but you made space for her anyway.

"What was supposed to be a girls' night New Years Eve get together turned into us coming here, and just like you I have no clue where my friends with."

It wouldn't be shocking to either of them if their friends found someone gorgeous and well-off to talk to, but you were sure your friend was more concerned with making connections than the imminent countdown to the new year. You empathized with this woman, but still couldn't get over the shock that someone who looks like her was feeling the same loneliness tonight.

"I guess that's a common theme tonight. It's never really happened before so I think that's why it stings so much. I'm Y/n by the way."

"Sabrina," she sticks her hand out for you to take which you do. You two shake hands for a few seconds before breaking away. You felt like you had made a new friend tonight and you were a little proud of yourself. You were never the most sociable one in the room, so it's fitting that your main way of meeting new people is through an embarrassing moment.

"You said you came here with a friend? Just one? Are they a friend or a friend."

"Just a friend. We were roommates one year in college and I reached out to her when I moved out here to LA. She's always been primed for this kind of life, not me, so I needed her to guide me through the upsides and downs of living here."

"There are a lot of ups, like being invited to some rich ass dude's New Years Eve party. The downs would be the perpetual loneliness that seems like a requirement."

"I take it you've been in LA for years?"

"Almost two decades now. Feels like it's been a life time."

"Do you like it? I've only been here for two years and I'm still figuring out how I feel about it."

"Well, like you said, it has it's ups and downs. Some times there are more downs than ups, and vice versa. I would say right now that sitting in the bathroom of a boring party with a pretty girl who is being kind to me after I fucked up her dress is one of the ups."

You break eye contact with her to spare yourself the embarrassment. You feel a heat creep up your neck and beat you right in the face. You never learned how to take a compliment without completely crumbling. You already found Sabrina to be interesting and pretty, but now your heart was starting to beat out of your chest.

"And I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I'm kind of glad I literally ran into you. I saw you earlier in the party and I couldn't stop staring at you. I hope I don't sound like a creep."

"No, not at all! I'm just shocked to say the least."

What snapped you out of your shock was the sound of people cheering and getting rowdy outside of the bathroom. At first you feared someone was going to come in, ruining your solace. But then Sabrina checks her phone and sees that it's almost midnight.

"Two more minutes then it's 2024. I'll be honest, Y/n, I didn't expect to spend my last minutes of 2023 like this. I sort of feel like a klutz."

"Don't be sorry. Like I said my dress is fine, just a little sticky, but one wash it'll be alright."

The both of you end up getting distracted by the rowdiness outside the door. You were half tempted to get up and join them just to watch everyone ring in the New Year together, but you stay put. You notice how Sabrina isn't budging and you get the impression that she wants to stay with you in her last moments of 2023. Soon the start the countdown.

"10...9...8...7..."

In just a few seconds you feel fingers weave through yours and Sabrina grabbing your face. You let her control your body, turning your head to face her.

"6...5...4..."

It takes just seconds for your heart to flutter with an emotion you haven't felt in a long time.

"3...2...1...Happy New Year!"

Sabrina's lips meet yours on the very first syllable of "happy." For the first time in years you genuinely felt the meaning.

At first it felt innocent, just two lonely souls filling the void together, but Sabrina didn't want to pull away. She kissed you deeper, harder. The lust was radiating off of her and it was overwhelming. The last way you expected to bring in the new year was a bathroom hook-up, but surprisingly you weren't turned off to the idea. No one has ever come on this strong to you before and being in LA you were beginning to think you were a love repellant. This kiss left your breathless and starving for more. You grab onto Sabrina, unintentionally laying one hand on her breast in the process. Neither of you seemed to care as your tongues bumped against each other's. It was becoming a little sloppy, with Sabrina taking you there, but you enjoyed it. There is a hint of lemon on her tongue and you wondered why type of drinks a girl like Sabrina would drink. She was bold, yet refreshing.

Sabrina pulls away, panting and her lipstick smudged. She's looks a little messy now but she smiles regardless. She's so happy that you're receptive to her touch and that you seemed to enjoy the kiss too.

"Was that too much?" She wipes the edges of her mouth.

"I think we're beyond the point of worrying about what's too much now."

You're the one to lean in this time. You continue what Sabrina started, the blonde leaning into this time until she wraps her arms around your neck. You were at the point of no return and you wouldn't dare turn back. You wanted more; you wanted her.

"Do you think you can be quiet?" You ask her between kisses?

She hums affirmatively against your lips before you break the kiss. She moans breathlessly when your lips land on her neck. So much for being quiet because her moan fills the room. Of course the party outside still raged on as being in a whole new year put a new life into the party. The sound of the bass of the music thumped against the walls, but nothing could overtake the sound of Sabrina's sweet moans. You finally get between her legs, your knees pressed into the soft rug. She places her legs on your shoulders and you come face to face with her pussy. It didn't surprise you, but seeing her without panties made your face grow hot.

"I hope you don't mind, I left them at home," she says with a salacious tone.

You didn't mind at all, you were happy to have easier access to her wet pussy. You can't go another minute without it seeing what she tastes like. Sabrina whines when your face disappears between her legs under her dress. She pulls it up and catches the very moment your tongue meets her dripping sex. She moans so loud that she has to put her own hand over her mouth. You lick and lick and lick and somehow she's able to keep herself from screaming out in pleasure. It was like you knew her body and knew what buttons to press. She feels a rush run through her and she's on cloud nine. Never has a stranger made her so happy and feels so good. She moves her hand from her mouth and promises herself she'll be good and keep as quiet as possible. She knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the counter.

"Oh Y/n that feels so fucking good," she whines. "I've been thinking about this all night."

The thought of someone being so turned on by you that they fantasized about it after seeing you once was astounding. You were shocked to have that power over someone, especially over someone so beautiful. You felt lucky, lucky to be invited here (the party and between Sabrina's legs). You pull away from her pussy and rub her clit.

"Did you want me so bad that you spilled a drink on me?"

Sabrina doesn't answer, just moans as she throws her head back in pleasure. You stop rubbing her clit to insert a finger into her pussy. When she feels your tongue back on her clit paired with the finger inside of her she almost cums. But she wants to savor the taste, feel this forever. She thinks she's strong enough to hold herself back, but your fingers are stronger than her will. You insert another one into her and her walls wrap warmly and tightly around the two. Your hitting the spot that makes her legs shake. Sabrina desperately wants to cry out loud, but she wouldn't dare risk getting caught and letting the moment end. She's so so close, tettering on that blissful edge. You kiss her inner thigh not once, or twice, but a few times. It makes her legs shake. She forgets about trying to hold back when she feels the 5th kiss pressed to her thigh.

She fears that you might get turned off by how hard she cums, but you enjoy it very much. She closes her eyes, bites her lip, and tosses her head back in ecstasy. A tear runs down her rosy cheek too. Her make-up is probably too fucked up for saving, but no one is going to care, so neither does she.

"Earth to Sabrina...you here with me?" You tease her. You're not sure if she likes that, but she just let you eat her out and finger, a little teasing is harmless in comparison.

She opens her eyes a few seconds later and a sweet, relaxed smile forms on her face.

"People are probably looking for us," you say to her when she finally looks down at you.

"Let them look."

[mothmanwarble]

Was reminded of this post and realized I never elaborated, so here’s a small selection of moments from the chapter books in which Eon’s super tired and generally having a bad time:

This is a man that has not known peace in 600 years, minimum.

obsessed with the contrast between eon’s characterization in the games vs his characterization in the chapter books. it’s so funny to me. in the games he doesn’t do much outside of giving hints and serving as a bookend. but then in the novels he’s just like. actually a guy. with so many mental health problems.

[calmcoldevening]

Back at it again with a prompt idea!

What if the slasher/s are trying to kill a victim but they are immortal and keep coming back

And the victim keeps following the slasher only to annoy and be a little menace to them >:3

(maybe they fall in love later O.O)

What ever slasher you choose is fine for me ;)

Art the clown x immortal!reader

Tw: blood, murdering, torturing? well, yeah. Art is an ass sometimes

• Art has always been a fan of violent and noisy 'games' that chilled the blood in his veins. That was his sadistic nature, and the whole of Miles County and people for hundreds of miles around had already heard a lot about it. A strange man in a clown costume, who sent at least a dozen unhappy teenagers and adults to the next world. He loved blood and horror, and no one would dare stand in his way, not wanting to become another victim of brutal violence.

• Maybe it was fate's will, or maybe it was just your bad luck or an accident, but one day Art saw you in one of the cafes late at night. He was watching you from a dark alley, so it's unlikely that you would have seen him even if you really wanted to. He clutched his garbage bag in his hands, and a cruel grin appeared on his face. You were a good little thing and you definitely could have brightened up this cold night for him.

• Without thinking for long, Art hit you on the head at the most unexpected moment and took you to one of his 'game rooms', which in fact was just a room of one of the old factories in the city. He wasn't in the mood to hunt you down and catch you in your own house for a long time. This game was supposed to be fast but colorful.

• The clown involuntarily licked his lips, watching you slowly regain consciousness and open your big innocent eyes. He walks around you like some kind of fancy Christmas tree. You're sitting on an old wooden chair, badly scratched and already soaked in blood from past victims. Your limbs are tied in wooden material with strong leather straps, and thick barbed wire with rusty, blunt teeth is wrapped around your neck, chest and abdomen. There was a smell of dampness and fear in the air, which made the Clown giggle noiselessly.

• Finally, Art stopped right in front of you and gestured at the trash bag to your right. Making a playful, almost pretended sweet expression, or reached into the bag as if looking for a Christmas present for a small child. In the flickering light, a long thin tool with a convex handle and a bizarrely curved metal tip appears, more like a sharply sharpened blade. A man comes behind you and caresses your tense shoulders with almost uncharacteristic tenderness. His fingers are rough and rough. The clown's palms slowly descend lower, sliding along your clothed back through the open part of the back of the chair. The movements are slow and measured. Suddenly his movements stop and in the next moment they are replaced by acute pain. Sparks dance in your eyes and you emit a strangled cry, reflexively your body gives way forward, blunt spikes painfully dig into your tender flesh. Art laughs soundlessly, continuing to press the blade deeper into your spine, and then abruptly moves his hand down. With a nasty creak, the fabric of your T-shirt is torn, and at the same time your soft flesh is torn. Art rejoices, seeing how his hands and white gloves are stained with maroon lingonberry liquid, flowing in a thick stream onto the concrete floor. Tears are pouring from your eyes as you desperately bite your lower lip in an attempt to control yourself. Your back, which was once a flawless canvas of pale skin, is now covered with a network of terrible red lines, each of which testifies to the cruelty of Art's tools and his relentless thirst for suffering. There is a pungent smell of iron in the air, mixing with the acrid smell of fear that remains on your sweat-soaked skin.With deliberate slowness, I pick up the razor-sharp instrument again, its sinister curves gleaming in the dim light. Your body is trembling, every muscle is tense with fear, while the man is preparing to inflict even more torment on you.In the flickering shadows, a grotesque smile appears on his painted face, a silent promise of future torment.

• Suddenly, the blade hits the blood-soaked concrete with a ringing thud and bounces off somewhere to the dark wall. Art goes back to his "magic" bag and takes out some kind of leather strap. With a deft movement of his hands, he hooks the clips connected by a strap onto your wet cheeks, the gloves wet with blood rub unpleasantly against your face. Art smiles his creepy smile and gently touches your chin with his fingers. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were wet from tears and saliva flowing from your open mouth. But not that you can complain here. All you had to do was mumble something, barely moving your limp tongue.

• An unpleasant crunch filled the half-empty concrete room. With a strong crack, Art broke off a piece of your tooth with pliers, the fragment unpleasantly scratched the already bleeding gum. All you had to do was mumble something indistinctly, to which Art just grinned madly and jokingly grabbed your tongue with the edges of the pliers, watching the despair in your eyes. He broke off tooth after tooth until a dozen teeth had been pulled out in his hand.

• Your throat burned from screaming, and your eyes burned unpleasantly from the tears you shed. You wanted it to be over as soon as possible. Realizing that Art won't get the right reaction from you anymore, noticing your exhaustion, he snorts soundlessly, clearly losing interest. With a graceful movement of his hand, Art deftly takes out an old battered pistol from a trash bag. He slides the edges of the gun over your cheek, drawing uncomplicated patterns. His movements are slow and upward. One. Two. Three. Finally, his hand reaches your head, the muzzle of the gun is pressed against your painfully throbbing temple. You wearily close your eyes, feeling a leaden heaviness in your limbs. His arms and legs were already blue from lack of blood.

• Art blows on the smoke coming from the shower of the gun and throws the weapon back into the bag. The man steps back, admiring his work and your smoking wound on his temple for a couple of moments. After that, he carefully removes the straps from the dead body and puts them in a bag, slowly leaving the building.

• Art pinned a young man to the ground, slowly cutting the meat from his face and putting the skin in his mouth. A soft laugh was heard abruptly behind him, and another pair of hands, softer and softer palms, covered his hands. The man raises his eyebrows questioningly and turns back, meeting your satisfied gaze. Your face still looked tired and tear-stained, and there were bruises and streaks of blood on your neck, but overall you looked almost.. normal?

• Without thinking twice, you grab the scalpel from his hand and with a sharp movement stick the blade into the clown's eye. He screams soundlessly, raising his hands to his face. You step back, watching his agony with a satisfied expression on your face. "You didn't think it would end so easily, did you?" You purred, folding your arms over your chest. The clown frowns, baring his sharp black teeth, and jumps up from the lifeless body. He walks towards you with quick steps and grabs your throat with his cold hands, lifting you off the ground. No matter how thin he looks, the guy has plenty of strength. You giggle, covering his hands with yours. You can already feel the air leaving your lungs, being replaced by an unpleasant burning sensation. Without thinking twice, you reach out your hands, touching the clown's face with your fingers, and scratch his painted face, mixing the paint with the blood from his wounded eye. He presses harder, enjoying the crunch of your airways.

• It quickly turned into a constant game of cat and mouse. Wherever Art was, you were always there. And I was in his way. Art was angry, cursed, and killed you. But you were coming back. Each time, your body was still decorated with old scars, but the man added new ones. He realized that the old scars would disappear. He had to make new ones. It was as if he was celebrating his favorite, best victim in this way. He can't be uninterested in your natural stubbornness and immortality.

• Over time, the clown really begins to look forward to your recovery and return, despite the slight irritation that you cause in him. He feels it in the pleasant piercing of his fingers. His hands crave you, your body, his fingers want to touch your scars and leave new ones.

• Your constant presence in Art's life begins to gradually change his thinking and thoughts, your image has settled in his head like a damn poison.

• Your immortality and lack of fear make you a really worthy partner for Art, he realizes this on an unconscious level. There's something about you. Something that makes his blood boil in his head. He's falling in love with you. Yes, in his own way, but he falls in love. Despite your initial maniac-victim relationship, Art is starting to see you as almost an equal. This is surprising. He loves you in his own twisted way.

• Art and you are in a love-hate relationship, constantly joking and arguing with each other. Despite the constant quarrels, you are united by a deep connection and understanding, which becomes apparent in your communication. You both feel extremely comfortable in such a relationship in your own perverted way (this is especially damn noticeable in sex..)

• Art begins to crave your company and gets annoyed when you are not around. There's something nice about knowing that after a bloody murder, he can properly combine his anger and passion on you. Especially in your intimate moments. Playing with blood, strangulation and other elements of bdsm is an integral part of your pleasure. You are a perfect match for each other, you are feared by all the states in the district.

[itachiiwrites]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃

Pt. 2 of Notice me! Senpai!

Plot: By now you should know he'll do just about anything to get your attention, even if it means being shitty at a job he's good at.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: divider by @cafekitsune , @rookthornesartistry beta by lovely @entirelysein-e | @pixelcafe-network

a/n; I know I'm ignoring my kinktober list..I know...

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚ cw. Minors. Do. Not. Enter. Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, 69, prone bone, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk gojo, gojo is a yearner, age gap (reader is 33, Satoru is 28), canon divergent (it's never gojover :⁠^⁠))

Word count: 2.8k

Gojo Satoru never thought that he’d be so gullible.

Gullible enough to let himself get dumped by you, not that you dumped him in actuality, in his head you were so much more than that one time you sent him a risqué text accidentally, which consequently led to a very eventful thing happening. Key word, sex.

He knew that had to do something to get your attention, which meant doing a terribly sloppy, messy job on a mission. The killing wasn't the part he would suck at, for very obvious reasons but he could unapologetically collapse a few evacuated buildings, spill the guts, bones and blood of the curses obscenely enough that it left a trace even for the non-sorcerers. The consequences would leave him in a lot of deep shit from the higher ups and principal Yaga.

“Satoru, the casualties in Kobe weren’t as much as we expected, but for the love of fucking god! Can you care enough to explain why you’ve NOT done a clean job?” The air pressure in the room seemed to be skyrocketing with principal Yaga’s blood pressure and the way veins on his forehead were perceptibly popping out, contrasted by Satoru’s smirk of unbothered cool detachment. You knew it was bad the moment principal Yaga didn't particularly care about cuss words effortlessly leaving his mouth.

“My job is to obliterate, I obliterate, maybe maid Ichiji is just not doing his job well” You furrowed your brows at the entitlement and smugness in his statement. Shrugging his shoulders with his hands raised up in a gesture of ‘I wonder’, all of this being way too unserious and unimportant to him. What the fuck was that?

Your presence wasn't technically needed here, but you were specially called for since the only person Satoru considered listening to was you. You stood adjacent to the poor, scrawny man currently hanging on a flimsy thread of his sanity, and the risk of the consequences that his senior was so casually posing for him. You watched the meek man deep his head down, that's when you knew you had to step in for your colleague.

“Gojo-kun, take this seriously. Calling Ichiji-san a maid is not very nice either, it's better to be considerate of people who take away the burden from you for a lot of things. A ‘thank you’ would be better than the..whatever way you're speaking.” The stern tone in your voice definitely took him aback, a strange tug taking over his chest, before he let out an uproarious guffaw, almost like he didn’t take what you said seriously. Ouch.

“Fiiine, I'll do it for you, Just for you.” He threw his hands up dramatically and it drew a wringing smile on your lips. Almost. Yaga on the other hand, was technically on the verge of snapping again at his response, but you saw the principal do EFT, making you sigh at how effortless Satoru was at everything, especially at annoying people.

"Well, thank you Ichiji, since my dear Senpai here is telling me to be polite” He hummed with a smile, a little hopeful after a bordered smile that he pulled from you, his beloved.

His fingers played with the seam of the silky fabric of his blindfold. You noticed. It was an action he often did whenever he was in the wrong about something, where he was thoughtful. It wasn't that he wanted to push the blame on Ichiji, he just wanted your attention, some sort of reaction after being ghosted so brutally after that day. The black haired man simply nodded, acknowledging the apology, darting his eyes at you with a glimmer of gratitude, for stepping up.

You knew he was meeting your eyes, though not visibly, through the restraint of his blindfold. This was not the reaction that he expected, his glossed bottom lip poking out in a pout at the non-verbal interaction between you and Ichiji. And oh how it made him feel bitter. “So did that make you happy, Senpai?” pettishly breathed out, the tonality in his voice was clipped, cold, annoyed and you just rolled your eyes, equally peeved. There was nothing poor about him, and he was getting way too comfortable even at work. But he thought he had that privilege, especially after being between your legs. Not that he understood the concept of personal space, ever.

“Forget it! No one can convince this block head, don't waste your energy. Get back to work everyone.” Yaga had evidently given up at the fact that Satoru wouldn't budge from his cockiness even after being scolded upon.

“See ya, old man” Satoru's statement was met with nothing but a door slam, followed by the presence of you and Ichiji leaving as well, no longer in the room.

He huffed, expecting him to give him an arm touch before you left and look at him with your sympathetic eyes before he'd press his lips against yours and source his energy from the suppleness of them. Fuck. He couldn't be nonchalant about you ignoring him, he was spiralling.

Something had to be done about this.

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

You being stern to him didn't really pay off well, Satoru took it too personally, so personally that he was now at your doorstep, his tall stature looming over you, his broad shoulders that were casting a shadow onto you, drenched from the rain pouring outside, almost looking like a wet dog. Your mind brimmed with questions, why wasn't his infinity on? You stepped away from the door, allowing him inside, a soft cringe taking over your features when you saw the splatters of water on your clean wooden floor. Not like he cared.

“Why weren't you carrying an umbrella?” You looked like a mother, who had her hands on either side of her waist, frustrated with her child who decided that playing around in mud was a good idea. That's what you looked like to Satoru. Cute.

He locked his eyes in yours with a snare gaze along with a playful smile settled on his lips. Not exactly in the mood for talking after your treatment towards him earlier. He grabbed your wrist with a firm, determined grip, making you stumble onto his lap, in a straddle with a soft thud. You lamented softly at the feeling of the wet fabric against your dry, warm and crisp ones.

“You're soiling my clothes, Satoru!” You grumbled further, slapping his chest, your hands quick to smooth away the new state of your clothes, as if it would help.

You swivelled your head on your neck upward, looking at him, and his face had an expression of arrogant confidence and no remorse, a smirk playing the corner of his mouth, cloudy hair plastered on his forehead as thick drops of water streamed down his pretty face in rivulets. He had no right to look this good.

“What? You can handle this much.. you've been awfully rude to me, Princess. Besides, I'm gonna get you drenched anyway.” To which your face loomed a rosy pink. He gave a raspy laugh at the end of the suggestive comment then leaned in, his breath on your cheek warm as he pressed a soft, tender kiss onto your shaded cheek, his hands now growing explorative with his touch, slipping underneath your cardigan.

“You know why I got wet in the rain?” He left the question in the air, a rhetoric as his nimble fingers unbuttoned the cardigan, his eyes half lidded, watching the wool slide down from your shoulders, edging below the lace of your bra. ‘Fuck’ he muttered, tracing his fingertips on the swell of your bosom, frantically leaning in to tether wet kisses from your collarbone to your cleavage, his large hands expanding to cup your clothed chest, circling his hands in soft fondles, earning a mewl from your lips.

His eyes snapped at your face at your reaction, face flushed and eagerly watching his each move. You wanted him. You wanted him!

“I did it to have your attention..even that stupid mission that I could've finished in seconds..did it for you, all for you..Senpai” Shaking his head as he confessed, his hands creeping down to grasp at the plush flesh of your thighs from below, picking you up to land the two of you in your bedroom. You were flattered to the depths of your heart but you just couldn't pinpoint or understand where this was coming from. It had only been 3 days since you both were together again after that night.

He slid off the long coat of his uniform, then his pants and boxers with a grunt as it clung to his skin. He moved on the bed, hovering on top of you, your eyes failing to dart away from his cock that was unbearably hard and prodding at your inner thigh.

“It's not like you don't have my attention—” you crooned, your voice to him like velvet, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. It was a voice that caressed his ears and soothed his soul, a sound that made him want to listen to you speak forever; the sweetness and undertone of sensuality. Something an adrenaline junkie like him could get addicted to but he cut you off, to make his point.

“It's not enough…it'll never be enough. I'll never not have enough of you” He spoke in a new found desperation in his voice, his fingers hauling the material of your slacks and panties, prying open your thighs, moaning at the sight of your inviting, sodded, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” He asked in confirmation and you shuddered at the coolness of his fingers that were tempered because of him being wet in the rain priorly.

You nodded your head frantically, your hand settled on his wrist to do something, while he teased your slit so painfully slow, at an agonising degree. “ ‘Toru..please, do something..” that pleading your voice was so satisfying, so affirmative to the light of the fact that you wanted him too. “Fuck.. baby, say it again..need you to say it again..” He pleaded, the azure of his eyes wild and crazed, a feral gleam in their depths that sent shivers down your spine.

“All for you..” That's it. Satoru flipped you over, manhandling you to settle yourself on top of him, now in front of his proud cock, while your ass was on his face, his eyes fixed on your drooling heat.

He dipped in, giving an experimental lap onto your folds, his eyes rolling back at your taste, your essence while his two fingers nudged at the stretchy, entrance muscle, slipping them in with ease, your back arching at the intrusion. His tongue drew circles onto your clit, delving to spread your already profanely exposed pussy with his free hand, smiling at how your nub was poking out, greedy for his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

His hand came down on the globe of your ass with a sharp, stinging smack, the impact making you gasp, a consecutive whine passing your lips when he stopped, your heartbeat in a thrumming beat when he stopped his ministrations and pulled away, giving you another smack, your walls fluttering even at the emptiness. “You're not facing my cock for nothing, suck on it. Make good use of your mouth other than, you know…defending another man.”

“You're full of yourself, you really are..”

Yet you obliged even as you felt vexed by his backhanded comment, your thumb moving up and down on the velvet skin, on his frenum, admiring the curve of his blessed inches before lewdly taking him in your mouth, moaning with your mouth clasped around him when he gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your pussy now bubbling with his spit as he ate you out so voraciously, grunting and whimpering on your core in need, in yearning. He felt a little asphyxiated at you sitting on his face, although the good kind.

The orgasm that coiled in your body finally snapped, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, his happy trail tickling against your chin, his fingers scissoring into you hard and fast, the gushy, squelching noise at the action resounded on the walls—your eyes rolling back at their sockets, his cock slipping out your mouth, red, angry but lustrous with your spit.

“Thaaat's it, fuck, cum on fingers and mouth..make a mess..” He cooed, increasing the rapidness of his fingers. The wave of tingling heat and pleasure washed over you, a wave that crested and broke as you cried out, body arching and writhing under his touch. He sighed, loudly drinking away your juices before detaching yourself from his face, moving your body to hover on you again.

He teased his fingers on your lips, letting your jaw fall slack as he pushed his fingers in. Your mouth immediately surrounded them, swirling your hot tongue to savour your taste, eyes looking in his, all perused. “Look at you, sucking on my fingers like a nasty little slut. You defended Ichiji earlier..gonna let him do this too? Huh? Tell me Senpai..” He mocked pulling out his fingers to let you speak—that led a gasp to erupt your throat. He was satisfied, seeing the glow on your cheeks, the glassed eyes. All for him.

“No Toru..all for you, just for you.. I'm yours” You cloy, tantalising the head of his cock on your slick folds, the environment in the room balmy and humid. That teasing came to a halt when he propelled himself into you with a full swarm. “You're mine, all mine..mine mine mine..no one's gonna..fuck your pussy like me, make you cum like me..no one, princess..”

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

And he fucked you stupid, so primally, so animalistically. Losing count on how many times he pulled an orgasm after orgasm out of you. Now currently having his body overbearingly pressed on yours, his chest on your back, clammy with sweat, his forearms either side of your head, the way your hips were angled made you feel every inch, hitting at spot. He grunted, picking up his upper body away, hands placed on the small of your back that felt like a voltage.

He kneaded onto the flesh of your ass, prior to drawing both your wrists together, holding them down against your back as he plunged into you in a frenzy, harder and faster, nearing the edge. His own dick raw after cumming in you too many times during the night.

Satoru whimpered at the sight of you so ravenously stretched out his length, swallowing him in as he came again, completely milked dry and your body violently quivering. He chanted your name in soft cries as he pulled out, gently fisting himself and getting out every last drop on your twitching cunny.

He dropped his body onto you like it weighed nothing, ragging breaths leaving his lips and yours. He kissed the expanse of the back of your neck, playfully blowing a raspberry on your skin, making you giggle.

“You're a freak.” You turned around, allowing your manicured hairs to trail through his hair, enjoying the texture of his silky strands, as you brushed it back from his forehead. Your touch was gentle, almost reverent, fingers carded through the locks, massaging his scalp with a light pressure that made him hum in contentment.

“I'm your freak..” The giddy, smitten smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Damn it.

“Be my girlfriend..I can't take anymore of you not being mine anymore..” He saw the hesitation flicker across your face and it caught him off guard, the sorcerer felt something drop sickeningly in his stomach. Definitely his heart.

“...Let me think about it, okay?” He rolled his eyes before pinning your wrists above your head in bravado.

“You want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.” He smiled, self assured, seeing the heat crawl on your cheeks at his crude yet factual comment.

“You're blushing..” He pointed, leaning his head downward, fighting the idiotic grin that was slowly lacing his handsome face at your reaction. He hummed, nosing your nipple faintly, before giving it a quick lap.

“So..? Never saw anyone fall for your charm before?” You raise your brow and he snorts, giving a soft bite on the supple flesh of your nipple with a chuckle at your gasp, immediately soothing it with a lick. “Yeah I have seen someone not fall for it, it's you.”

“Well, it doesn't matter because tomorrow I'm telling everyone that you're my girlfriend, especially Ichiji” He proudly replied, pulling you to his chest, inhaling deeply to let your scent tickle his senses.

“You're not gonna lose on this are you?” your arm wrapped around his waist, signalling him that you weren't exactly opposed to the idea.

“Nope, I'm the strongest for a reason” He spoke in his ever unwavering swagger and you could only sigh, being a loser in his love.

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Boss -(long) Oneshot

Word count: 9284 This one got away from me... sorry. Hope you like it, tho!

Part 2 Part 3

Y/N smiled as she stared up at the huge high rise building.  It was her first day working at Avengers Legal, the offices of Barnes, Rogers and Stark.  She had been really lucky to find an opening as one of the head lawyers’ personal assistants, she just didn’t know which one yet.  She had a little background in law, but didn’t go to law school, as much as that killed her parents.  A little bump in the road in the shape of her now ex boyfriend had derailed that future, and after freeing herself she was now working on her fresh start.  She followed the instructions from the head of HR that she had been in contact with, and walked out of the elevator to the smiley woman sitting at the reception desk.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asked in a chipper tone.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.  It’s my first day?” Y/N said.

“Oh!  The new personal assistant!  Yes, Pepper told me,” she said happily.  She stood and held out her hand.  “My name is Kamala Khan.  Receptionist.”

“Kamala, that’s beautiful,” Y/N complimented her, and Kamala smiled even wider.  

“You’re sweet.  I like you already,” Kamala said.  “Follow me.”  She moved around the desk and walked ahead of Y/N towards the hallway to the right.  “Now I don’t know which partner you’re working with,” she said lowly, sidling up to Y/N.  “And please don’t let this scare you off, but each of them work differently.”  

“Okay,” Y/N said, speaking quietly as well.

“If you get Steve, that’s the Rogers part, he’s a sweetie.  Super friendly.  If you get Tony, the Stark part, he’ll tease and make fun of you, he’s very sarcastic, and sometimes he’ll flirt or compliment you like crazy, but it’s never gross and he means nothing by it.  He’s married to Pepper.”  Y/N nodded, intaking all the information as best as she could.  “Then there’s James, the Barnes part.  He’s the more serious of the three.  Friendly, but busy, very professional and no-nonsense.  He likes things done quickly and efficiently.  If he lets you call him his nickname, Bucky, then you know you’re in the inner circle.”

“Inner circle?” Y/N asked as Kamala stopped in front of a door that read Pepper’s name and title.

“It’s like the main team of Avengers Legal,” Kamala said, nearly whispering.  “The partners, their top legal assistants that get to have the most fun or high profile cases, and only the best personal assistants.  Those are the ones that get to travel with them, and usually get to network with top of the line people in the industry.  It opens a lot of doors,” she said, raising her hand to the door.  “So good luck with whoever you get.”

Y/N nodded as Kamala finally knocked.  “Come in!” a voice called out.  Kamala opened the door and gestured for Y/N to enter first.  “Y/N!  Welcome,” Pepper said and stood from her desk.

“Hello, it’s good to see you again,” Y/N said, walking over and shaking her hand.

“Thank you, Kamala,” Pepper called out behind her, and Kamala smiled and closed the door.  “I’m sure she gave you all the beginner’s gossip,” Pepper smirked as she sat back down and gestured for Y/N to sit at the chair in front of the desk.

“Yes, she did,” Y/N huffed a laugh.  

Pepper rolled her eyes.  “The partners are all just overworked, typical men.  Not nearly as special as they like to think they are.”  Y/N bit back a smile.  “That being said, after reviewing your profile and discussing things with them, I think you’ll be best fit with Mr. Barnes.”  Y/N felt a little trepidation at that from what Kamala had said, but nodded.  “He’s…quiet,” Pepper said, choosing her words carefully.  “But honestly one of the best attorneys in the state.  He runs a tight ship, and expects the best out of anyone working under him.  If they disappoint him, he can have quite a temper, but he’s normally very friendly.”

“Are you trying to convince me to back out?” Y/N asked with a smile.

“No!  God no, please stay,” Pepper said, waving her hands in front of her.  “I’m just trying to forewarn you.  He’s had a hard time keeping a personal assistant for the last few years.”

Y/N nodded.  “And he is aware that I’m not a paralegal?”

“Yes,” Pepper nodded back.  “We don’t blur lines when it comes to personal assistants versus legal assistants.”

“Then I’m ready,” Y/N said.

She signed the contract for her employment, then Pepper gave her a tour of the office and had her meet the teams and other partners.  Finally they walked into the office that had his name on it.  “Buck?  I’d like to introduce you to your new personal assistant,” Pepper said as she held the door open for Y/N.  Y/N walked in and took a quick look around at his office before her eyes landed on him sitting in the desk chair.  She had to stop her eyes from widening when she met his gaze.  That is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“Meet Y/N Y/L/N.  Y/N, this is Bucky. Oh!” Pepper rolled her eyes.  “I’m sorry, James.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Pepper but gave her a teasing smirk.  “Thanks Pepper,” he said in a dismissive tone.  

Pepper scoffed then squeezed Y/N’s upper arm.  “Come see me before you leave today.”

Y/N smiled and nodded at her and Pepper walked out, closing the door behind her.  Y/N took that short moment to look him over.  Tall, broad shouldered, and from what she could see, built under his suit that was impeccably tailored to him.  His dark brown hair was long and tied back in a small man-bun, which was surprising as a lawyer, but that coupled with his full beard offset the austerity of his suit and made him seem approachable.  His bright blue eyes were looking her over, too, like he was sizing her up.  It was an intense stare, and she had to stop herself from shrinking under his gaze.

She took the initiative and walked forward to his desk.  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” she said, offering her hand to him.

Bucky looked at her hand then back to her face, his hand reaching forward as he smiled politely.  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand firmly.  Y/N made sure to be firm in her grip with him, and his smile slightly widened.  “Take a seat, and we can go over what it is I expect from you.”

Y/N sat and took out a notebook and pen from her bag, getting comfortable in her seat then looking up at him expectantly.  Bucky seemed to be watching her carefully, and she could start to see a small tell in the type of smirk he gave as to how he was feeling.  The wider smirk he gave Pepper was a friendly one, whereas these small ones as he greeted her were when he was impressed with something or pleasantly surprised.  They had a good, long discussion about what it was he wanted, how he liked to work with others, his normal routine and the possibility of travel at times, but she wouldn’t hold her breath for that.

“That’s about everything I can think of,” Bucky said.  “Any questions?”

“Yes, what’s your favorite drink order?” Y/N asked as she finished jotting down her last notes. 

Bucky scoffed.  “My favorite drink order?”

Y/N smiled.  “Just in case.”

His impressed smirk came back.  “Lately it’s been sweetened matcha.”

“Sweetened with what?” Y/N asked.

“Surprise me,” Bucky said.

Y/N smiled widely.  “Yes sir.”

Bucky frowned.  “No sirs.  Mr. Barnes in front of clients, otherwise Bucky is fine.”

She beamed at him for accepting her so quickly.  “Alright…Bucky.”

***

This job was a baptism by fire.  Y/N was thrown into work life with Bucky, accompanying him all around the city, taking endless notes in meetings and relaying messages to his legal team.  Per Bucky’s request she became close with all the assistants on his legal team, learning the process of working on a case and seeing how they all worked together.  She also scheduled everything in his personal life, making sure he was getting to doctor's appointments, picking up the dry cleaning, making sure the house cleaner was on time, taking personal phone calls during the work day, and handling anything else she could anticipate for him. 

Kamala was right, he was very particular and wanted efficiency above all else.  He didn’t like people wasting his time, and expected everyone to be at their best while at work.  There were times Y/N would catch him having a casual moment with one of the other partners, Steve, who was his best friend from childhood.  He would laugh at something Steve said and she’d be gifted with the sight of his full, real smile that he rarely gave anyone.  That being said, as the months went by he was opening up to Y/N, teasing her, making jokes and even at times bordering on flirtatious.

Steve was still looking for a new personal assistant, since his previous one, Peggy, he just so happened to start dating seriously, and since they struggled to differentiate work versus their personal lives she had resigned.  Every once in a while Bucky would lend Y/N out to Steve to help with some things that he needed while Pepper was in the process of finding him a new assistant.  “Good morning, Steve,” Y/N greeted him one day while she was helping him for a week.  She daintily put down a large coffee cup in front of him and his eyes widened.

“Oh you angel,” he whispered, grabbing the warm cup.  He brought it to his lips, taking a slow sip and he hummed appreciatively.  “You’re heaven sent, you know that?”

“I know,” Y/N smirked.  

“Oh I see how it is,” Bucky’s voice came from behind her.  She turned to find him walking toward her into Steve’s office with a teasing smile.  “One week with this jerk and you forget all about me.”

“Punk,” Steve spat as he sipped his coffee.

Y/N rolled her eyes and held up the other cup in her hand.  “How could I forget your cafe style sweetened matcha with three pumps of lavender and oat milk?”  Bucky hung his head and huffed a laugh as he took the cup from her.  “You just came here before I had a chance to come to you.  So needy,” Y/N teased him.  She took out her work phone provided by the firm and started scrolling.  “By the way, your date from last week keeps texting and calling.  What excuse do you want me to give dearest Dottie?”  

Bucky groaned and Steve laughed loudly.  “What was wrong with this one, Buck?” Steve snorted.

Bucky glanced at Y/N like he wasn’t sure how to talk about it in front of her.  “Well, judging by these texts, she’s very thirsty,” Y/N said in a deadpanned tone, making Steve almost spit out his coffee.  “Like, all of the time,” Y/N said.  “Shall I?” she smiled wickedly, waving the phone in front of Bucky’s face.

His eyes widened and he slammed the drink down before lunging toward her to grab the phone but she sidestepped him and ran behind Steve’s desk.  “Read it!  Read it!” Steve said, standing from his chair to block Bucky from getting to Y/N.

“Don’t you dare!” Bucky growled as he tried to go through Steve.

“‘Let me know when I can see you again, baby.  We can pick up where we left off,’” Y/N read, her voice taking on an exaggerated Bronx, New York accent like what she’d heard from Dottie’s voicemails.  

“Oooh where did you leave off, Buck?” Steve asked.  

Bucky tried to push past him.  “No where,” he grunted.

“These get worse by the day,” Y/N frowned as she read through them.  She had mostly ignored them every time she saw Dottie’s name pop up, not engaging in her constant ramblings in trying to get his attention.  This was why he gave out the work cell phone number rather than his actual, personal one.  “‘I want your tongue so deep inside me I can taste it,’” she read in the accent again, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised high.  “Good Lord.”

Bucky finally got past Steve and ran after Y/N as she squeaked and ran out of Steve’s office, Steve’s laugh echoing down the hallway as she moved as fast as her heels would allow her.  She ducked into an empty conference room and ran around the table, Bucky on the other side.  “‘I feel like a vampire, I wanna suck everything out of you,’” Y/N read, cocking an eyebrow at him.  “Jesus, Bucky, where do you find these girls?”  He edged around the table toward her and she jerked to the side, making him frown deeper at her.  He suddenly jumped and slid over the table, making Y/N screech as she tried to run but he caught her with his arms around her waist, hoisting her up off her feet.  She kept the phone out of his reach as he tried to maneuver her to take it from her.  “Ooh this one is really naughty,” she giggled.  Bucky pushed her into the corner of the room, making her face him as he grabbed at her hands.  He finally caught her wrists and as he held them together she read: “‘Fuck me like an animal.  I wanna be your little cum slut,’” she finished, laughing at the end of the phrase and losing the accent.

Bucky pried the phone out of her fingers.  Y/N’s laugh died on her lips as she looked up at him and saw the look on his face.  He wasn’t frowning or smiling, but looked surprised and…aroused.  Y/N realized the position they were in.  She was pushed in the corner, his leg between her legs with his knee almost cradling her core, the rest of his torso pushing against her front to keep her there, his hand holding both of her wrists against his chest and his face hovering mere inches from her face.  His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.

Y/N gasped and pushed him away, Bucky quickly backing up with the phone in his hand.  He exhaled sharply, his eyes widening.  “I…I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking down.  “I’m sorry…I got carried away.  I’ll um, let you handle that and you can give it back when you’re done,” she said, glancing at the phone, then gave him a quick look and walked away.  She nearly ran to the bathroom, hiding in one of the stalls and sliding down to the floor as she tried to even out her breathing.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want Bucky to touch her, in fact she’d had way too many dirty dreams starring him doing much worse things to her since she started working here.  She would gladly fuck Bucky, but she didn’t want to lose her job or have to give it up like Peggy had with Steve.  She needed this job.  She needed to take care of herself, so that if he ever came around, she wouldn’t fall for it all again.  

***

The rest of that day she had focused solely on Steve and all he needed her to do.  When the day was over she marched toward the front door by the reception desk where she found Bucky talking to Kamala.

“Oh, have a good night, Y/N!” Kamala called out to her and waved.

“You, too, K,” Y/N said quickly, giving her a quick smile.  She glanced at Bucky quickly.  “G’night Buck.”  She walked fast out of the office toward the elevator down the hall.  She heard Buck say goodbye to Kamala then follow her out.

“Y/N, hey, hold on,” he called out to her.

She sighed silently as she pushed the down button and turned to face him with a polite smile.  “Yes?”

Bucky stared at her for a moment before the elevator dinged and they both entered the elevator.  Y/N pressed the parking floor level button and leaned back against the elevator wall.  Bucky’s mouth opened and closed multiple times before he finally turned to face her with a heavy sigh.  “I’m sorry, again,” he said, his voice sounding strained.  

“It’s fine, Buck–”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupted her.  “I shouldn’t have…roughhoused you like that.”

Y/N chuckled.  “Roughhoused?”

“Yes, I’m an old man, don’t judge me,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes, a small smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I teased you with the texts so much,” Y/N said.  “I just have a bit of a…history, and it threw me for a loop for a second.”  He looked at her quizzically but she didn’t want to explain.  “She’s got quite the vocabulary,” she said with a teasing smirk, changing the subject.

Bucky snorted, hanging his head as Y/N laughed.  “Yeah, it was uh…quite the date,” he said.  “That’s why I didn’t text her back.  It was all just a bit much.”  Y/N hummed and he handed the work phone back to her.  “I politely told her to get lost and blocked her number,” he said.  She took the phone and nodded.  “I really am sorry,” he repeated.  Y/N met his gaze.  He was sincere and repentant, a knowing look in his eyes.  “I didn’t mean to hurt or scare you.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before giving him a small smile.  “I know.”

***

Y/N was walking by the reception desk one day on her way back in from lunch when she stopped in her tracks.  Kamala was speaking to a man that Y/N recognized.  It was Vic, her ex.  Kamala looked uncomfortable and met Y/N’s gaze with a concerned look.  Y/N’s eyes were wide and she shook her head minutely, hoping Kamala would get the message.  Kamala looked down then back up at Vic.  “I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that name,” she said sweetly.  “Maybe you have the wrong address?”  She distracted him, making him face away enough that Y/N was able to slip by down the hallway.  Once she was out of earshot she ran into Bucky’s office, closing the door and locking it behind herself.  She was panting, trying to calm herself.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice came from behind her.  She whirled around to face him.  He looked confused.  She held her finger to her mouth and a call came into his office phone.  He frowned and answered the call.  “Yes?” he asked.  He listened for a moment before looking at Y/N.  “A Victor Creed is here to see me?”  Y/N shook her head frantically, her eyes stinging with tears flowing fast.  Bucky’s face shifted into a look of surprise at her response as he stood.  “I’ll come up front in a moment,” he said before hanging up.  He rounded his desk and reached out to her, taking her hands in his.  “Who is he?” he asked quietly.

“History,” Y/N whispered.  

Bucky’s face twisted in recognition at the conversation they’d had weeks before, then his expression became stony.  “Stay here.  Lock the door.  I’ll knock twice once it’s safe.”

Y/N sniffled and nodded as he squeezed her hands, then had her stay behind the door as he opened it and walked down the hallway.  She locked it behind him and stood stock still as she waited and listened.  She could only hear muffled voices for a few minutes, then Vic’s voice getting louder before a slammed door made her jump.  Footsteps came back down the hallway, then two quiet knocks on the door.  She sighed as she unlocked the door with a shaky hand.  Bucky slowly opened it, watching her carefully.  “He’s gone,” he said, taking a step toward her with his hands up.  “Kamala is calling security to have him trespassed from the building.”  Y/N nodded, gnawing on her lip as her arms were tensed and tightly wrapped around herself.  “It’s okay.  You’re safe.  Everything’s going to be alright,” he said quietly.  She swallowed harshly as her tears kept falling.  “Can I give you a hug?” Bucky asked.  

Y/N stared at him for a moment before a sob broke through, and she nodded as she hung her head.  Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she cried heavily.  She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, shivering against him.  “I told him it was over,” she cried.  “I told him to leave me alone.”

Bucky’s fingers pet the back of her head, running through her hair.  “This isn’t your fault, Y/N,” he said quietly.  “He’s obviously stalking you.”  

She nodded against his chest.  After another moment of him holding her she pulled away and sniffed quickly, wiping her face.  “God, ugh, I’m sorry,” she grunted, clearing her throat.  “I’m so sorry to bring this…drama to the workplace.  I thought I had handled it but apparently not.  I completely understand if you have to let me go–”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Bucky scoffed.  “You’re the best personal assistant I’ve ever had.”  He stepped toward her again and reached for her hands, holding her fingers lightly as his thumbs ran over her knuckles.  “Here’s what we’re going to do.  He’s being trespassed from the building.  You will be escorted by security, or at the very least one of us, to and from your car every day.”

“Buck you don’t have to–”

“Like hell I don’t,” he interrupted her with a stern look.  “You’ll turn on your location on the work phone and share it with me and the others.  And you and I are going to go to the police station to make a report, go online and fill out a protective order or stalking injunction, then drop it off at the court later.”  Y/N’s tears came back.  She hadn’t been able to rely on anyone for years, had lost all contact and close relationships with her friends and family because of him, so to have someone worry and care about her enough to try to help her was overwhelming.  Bucky let go of one of her hands and reached that hand up to wipe away her new tears.  “Okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” she nodded.

***

Bucky, the other partners, and the entire office was a godsend to Y/N.  He had accompanied her when they filled out the protective order and turned it into the courthouse, then to the police station as she made a report.  Working in a law firm was helpful in that she was able to file a cease and desist by the end of the day, and with Bucky’s connections to certain officers at the station was able to know when Vic was served with everything.  Over the next few weeks she was accompanied to and from work from her car in the parking garage by someone, usually Bucky, Steve, Tony, and at other times by some of the paralegals.  Scott was one of her favorites, always making it seem like she was the president and he was the secret service.  

She was grateful to all of them for their efforts and willingness to help her.  It made her feel like a burden, but she was quickly reminded that they really didn’t mind when she brought it up.  Her protective order was granted, and she proceeded into getting a restraining order since they lasted longer.

Five months later as Bucky’s team was working late on a big case she packed up her bag.  “Alright, I’m heading out,” she announced to the room.

They all hummed or bid her half-hearted farewells, their attention all focused on the paperwork in front of them.  Bucky’s head snapped up.  “Hold on, doll, let me walk you down.”

“Bucky, it’s fine, honestly,” Y/N waved away his concern, backing up to the front door.  “It’s been months.  I’m sure I’ll be fine.  You shouldn’t have to babysit me–”

“Freeze,” he barked at her.  Y/N’s eyes widened and she stood still, everyone else falling silent at his raised voice.  “I’m coming with you,” he said with no room for argument.  He slipped his jacket back on and grabbed his keys before walking up to her.  “Let’s go,” he said in a quiet, much more gentle tone.

The ride in the elevator and walk to her car was silent.  Once she had unlocked her car door and put her purse in she turned to Bucky.  “Thank you–”

“Y/N, I need you to understand something,” Bucky interrupted her.  He was frowning, looking down at her with an intensity she’d never seen directed at her before.  “You are not a burden.  I am not babysitting you.  I want to help you.  I want you to be safe.  I need you…” he paused, swallowing harshly.  “I care about you,” he said quietly.  

Y/N stared at him in disbelief.  She had made good friendships at the office, and she and Bucky had become close, with her managing every aspect of his job and life for over a year.  She trusted him, and if she were honest with herself, she liked him as much more than her boss, and more than a friend.  But to hear it from him in this context made her feel emotional.  She felt tears start stinging her eyes and blinked rapidly to make them go away.

“Thank you,” she replied.  “I appreciate that.  I…I care about you, too.”

Bucky watched her for a moment before taking a step toward her.  He looked down at her for a moment, the intensity in his eyes making her knees feel weak.  His gaze fell to their feet then he wound an arm around her shoulders and hugged her, kissing her forehead lightly.  “I’ll see you Monday,” he whispered into her hair.

Y/N gently hugged him back, enjoying how his cologne wrapped around her like a blanket.  She closed her eyes as he held her, then opened them when he stepped away.  “See you,” she said quickly.  She gave him a small smile then got into her car.  Bucky stepped back and watched her drive away.  Y/N didn’t know what to think of the interaction.  It wasn’t necessarily work appropriate, but also not quite wrong between friends outside of work.  When she got home she tried to shake it off as another strange moment as she took off her heels and dropped her bag in the entryway.  She walked to the kitchen, pulling some things out to make a quick dinner when she felt like something was off.  She glanced around, then saw a shadow in the corner of the dining room.  She froze when she saw Vic standing there out of the corner of her eye, watching her.  Y/N knew it was too late, and subtly called the last number she had called, which just so happened to be Bucky.

As it rang quietly she turned around and faced Vic head on, looking him in the eye.  When she could hear Bucky pick up she spoke loud enough for him to hear.  “What are you doing here, Vic?” she asked, her voice sounding angry, which she was thankful for with how afraid she was.

Vic chuckled and stepped toward the kitchen into the light.  He looked rougher than the last time she saw him, like he hadn’t been eating, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in a long while.  His eyes were bloodshot, and with how he swayed as he walked she could tell he was either extremely drunk or high on something.  “Hey princess,” he slurred.  “Just came to see how things are going.  How’s the new boy toy treating you?”

“Boy toy?” Y/N scoffed.  “Who are you talking about?”

“That boss of yours,” Vic snarled, stumbling toward her.  He tried to reach out and grab her, but she quickly stepped out of his reach.  He grunted as he righted himself.  

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Y/N said.  “Even if he was, you have no right to be jealous of me or who I associate with.  We are not together.”

“Right, you being an ‘independent’ woman and all,” Vic mocked her, making air quotes with his fingers.  

“Y/N!  I’m coming!” she heard Bucky’s voice muffled against her chest from her phone.

Y/N tried to keep her wits about her, thinking through her options.  Help was coming.  Bucky was coming.  Just keep talking.  “I am now,” she asserted herself.  She angled her body sideways, getting into a better fighting stance and turning toward the front door.  “You hurt me, Vic.  You controlled, isolated, and abused me.  And I deserve better than that.”

Vic laughed.  “You deserve what I think you deserve.  Which right now, is to be my little cumslut, like you used to be when you were a good little princess.  So, get on your knees,” he said, rushing toward her.  

Y/N punched him, making his head whip to the side, then used his drunkenness against him as she pushed him as hard as she could away from her, making him stumble and fall to the floor.  Y/N held her phone as she ran to the front door.  As she was unlocking it Vic ran up behind her and lifted her off her feet, throwing her back toward the dining room where she fell hard on the floor.  The phone clattered a few feet away from her, and as she crawled toward it Vic grabbed her feet, trying to pull her back.  She kicked and screamed, hearing Bucky’s voice faintly yelling through the phone, a few feet beyond the knife.  

As Vic was able to turn her to her back, she punched him again, enraging him further.  “You stupid bitch!” he screamed in her face.

Y/N screamed back in his face, then Vic was pulled back off of her.  She gasped as she saw Bucky wrench Vic away, put him in a chokehold and fall on top of him.  Vic struggled, scratching at Bucky’s arms and hands as he choked and gasped for air.  Bucky grunted and tightened his grip more.  “Go to sleep, fucker,” he growled.  After another minute Vic slowly lost control of his arms, his eyes rolling back in his head until he passed out.  Bucky let go of him, but stayed on top of him in case he woke up.  “Call the police,” Bucky glanced at her.  

***

She watched the police officers and paramedics work on Vic in the entryway, loading him on a gurney that he was promptly handcuffed to.  They checked her and Bucky over, treating the scratches on Bucky’s hands and arms and her bruises and scrapes. She was questioned by police officers as they took pictures of her and Bucky’s injuries as well as the knocked over furniture in her apartment.  Y/N answered them as best as she could, Bucky sitting with her the entire time until they finally left.  

“Y/N?” Bucky called to her, turning to face her.  She looked at him blankly.  He was watching her carefully, reaching a hand out and taking hers closest to him.  “Do you wanna stay here tonight?”  She shook her head fervently.  “You can stay with me if you want,” he offered.  “Would you like to do that?” 

Y/N nodded absentmindedly.  She couldn’t think of anything better in that moment than a shower and a different place to stay.  Bucky helped her pack a bag, then guided her out of her apartment to the parking lot.  He helped her into his car, and she melted into the front seat.  She felt numb, unable to get her thoughts together to form anything coherent.  The rational part of her mind knew that it was trying to protect itself from the trauma of the night, but she couldn’t quite come to that conclusion yet.  

She was almost falling asleep when Bucky pulled into the garage of a home.  He got out and helped her out of the car, carrying her bag as he guided her into the house.  He led her through the house until he walked into what looked like a guest bedroom, setting her bag on the bed.  He turned to look at her.  “The bathroom is there,” he pointed at a door in the corner.  He looked at her nervously.  “Do you…do you need, um, help?”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment.  She didn’t know what she wanted.  Her eyes flicked around the room.  “I…I don’t…know,” she whispered.

Bucky nodded.  “Okay, well, how about you go shower, and uh, here,” he opened her bag and pulled out some pajamas and underwear, walking to the bathroom and putting the clothes down before coming back out, “and I’ll wait here just in case.  Is that okay?”

Y/N nodded.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  She couldn’t seem to find her voice, afraid that if she were any louder it would somehow make everything real.  Bucky nodded and gave her a small, reassuring smile before he sat himself on the bed.  Y/N walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself.  She felt like she was jerky in her movements as she stripped herself of her clothes, heaping them in the sink.  She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment.  Her hair was a mess from fighting him off, her mascara streaked down her face from the tears she unknowingly shed earlier, and a bruise showing near her hairline from when she hit the ground.  She shivered and turned on the shower.  The water was too hot, but she barely felt it as she washed herself.  

Y/N turned off the water and walked out of the shower.  She wrapped herself in a towel as she dried off, fixing her hair and rubbing her face.  She looked at herself in the mirror again.  Back to normal, she thought.  But this wasn’t normal.  Nothing about tonight was normal.  Nothing about her life for the past few years had been normal.  The adrenaline seemed to all wear off in a second, and her sobriety made her gasp.  She doubled over as the soreness from the fight hit her out of nowhere, and she cried out as she held herself and kneeled to the floor.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called out from behind the door.  “Are you alright?  What was that noise?”  She couldn’t answer.  Her throat was closed, choking on sobs.  “I’m coming in,” he warned her, then the door opened.  He looked around, finding her on the floor in the fetal position.  “Oh, doll,” he cooed, kneeling down quickly.  Bucky’s arms cradled her, moving her until he was able to help her stand.  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her clothes and leading her to the bed.  She cried as he held her, her face buried into his collarbone, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly.  He sat her on the bed and kneeled in front of her to catch her eye, reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears.  “Can I help you get dressed?” he whispered.  Y/N nodded as she hung her head in her hands.  She didn’t care about how awkward or inappropriate this was at this point.  Bucky handed her her underwear, then closed his eyes.  Y/N dropped the towel and put on her underwear quickly.  Bucky then blindly grabbed her shirt, opening his eyes while his head was facing down as he fixed the shirt, then closed his eyes again as he held it up so she could slip her head and arms through it.  He did the same for her sleep shorts, the backs of his fingertips sliding along her thighs and hips momentarily.  

Bucky then stood and opened his eyes, looking down at her as he stepped forward in between her legs.  He slowly cupped her face in his hands and made her look at him.  “I know it’s a really stupid question, but, are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, a fresh wave of tears starting to fall.  “He…he was going to hurt me again.”

Bucky nodded.  “I know, but you did the right thing in calling for help.  I’m just sorry I couldn’t get there sooner,” he said, biting his lip when it trembled.  “And you fought back, Y/N.  You fought hard and you won.  Do you hear me?” he dipped his head down to be eye level with her.  “You won.  He’ll never hurt you again.  You protected yourself, and I’m so proud of you,” he paused, his voice wobbling with emotion.  “I’m proud of you for keeping yourself safe.  God, when I saw him on top of you I–” he gritted his teeth, frowning deeply.  “I can’t lose you.”

Y/N stared at him.  He’d confessed he cared about her earlier that night, but now he seemed like he maybe cared more than he’d let on.  “I’m just your assistant,” she said.

Bucky chuckled.  “Best assistant I’ve ever had,” he smiled.  “But you, you’re…like I said, I care about you.”

Y/N eyed him warily, but she was too exhausted to try to argue or read into it anymore for the night.  She sighed and nodded.  “I need to sleep,” she whispered, her body feeling like it could collapse at any moment.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, moving to the top of the bed and turning down the covers, helping her get situated.  

“Please stay,” Y/N said, grabbing his wrist.

Bucky’s eyes widened but he nodded.  “Okay.”  

He sat at the end of the bed as Y/N got comfortable.  After she shifted repeatedly she looked at him.  “Could you, um…would you please…hold me?” she asked hesitantly.  

Bucky immediately nodded.  “Yeah,” he said, then climbed up the bed.  He settled under the covers and held his arms open to her.  Y/N scooted close to him, her head tucked under his chin, resting against his chest, and the moment his arms were wrapped around her protectively she cried again, this time quietly, her body trembling as it tried to relax.  “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her head.  “You’re safe.  You’re safe here.  You can stay as long as you want.  I’m right here…”  He rambled on for a while, his low voice helping soothe her nerves and lull her to sleep.  The last thing she felt was his hands rubbing her back gently, his lips kissing her forehead.  

***

Y/N woke up the next morning extremely warm and comfortable.  The bed underneath her was…moving?  She shifted herself, realizing that the bed she was on was a body.  Her head snapped up and looked to see Bucky.  He was still asleep, laying on his back with Y/N draped across his side, her head still on his chest, her arm across his waist and her leg hiked up over his groin and legs.  A flood of memories rushed in her head, making her shut her eyes tight at the headache it caused.  She laid her head back down on his chest, groaning at the soreness in her body.  His arm draped across her back that held her against him instinctively tightened and he hummed as his free hand bent up and under his head, making him look relaxed.  Y/N couldn’t help but to stare at him.  Getting to see Bucky asleep was quite the sight.  The nearly perpetual frown he had at work when focusing on cases and handling issues was gone, making him look younger and peaceful.  

Y/N reached a hand up and softly scratched at the beard hair on his chin, caressing his cheek and tracing along different parts of his face.  She felt like she was skipping a lot of steps, and that this was definitely inappropriate, but couldn’t find it in herself to care.  His eyes fluttered as she traced down his nose, and he started to wake up.  She tucked herself back into his side quickly, closing her eyes as Bucky started to squirm.  He groaned beneath her, stretching as best as he could with her nearly on top of him before she felt his lips on her forehead again.  “Y/N,” he grunted, then cleared his throat.  “Good morning.”  Y/N didn’t want to move.  She didn’t answer and his free hand shuffled from underneath his head to reach down and poke her side gently.  “Come on, doll, time to wake up,” he said quietly.

She hummed unhappily, shaking her head against his chest.  “Five more minutes,” she rasped.  

Bucky chuckled, making her shake.  “As comfortable as I am, let’s get you fed, huh?”  She shook her head again, her arms tightening around him.  He shifted himself to face her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.  “Were you touching my face?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.  Y/N hid her face into his chest to hide her blush.  Bucky chuckled again.  “Why were you touching my face?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N replied, her voice muffled in his shirt.  “You just looked so…peaceful and cozy.”

He hummed, the vibration in his chest warming her face.  She finally moved and looked up at him, meeting his tired gaze.  “Hi,” he whispered.

“Good morning,” Y/N whispered back with a small smile.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked quietly, reaching a hand up and moving her hair out of her face.

“Hm…tired, and sore,” she groaned.  Her stomach growled then, and it made him smile widely.

“And hungry,” he smirked.  “Come on.”  They both slowly got up, and separated for a few minutes to get cleaned up and ready for the day.  He met her at the door to the guest bedroom and led her to the kitchen, where he had her sit at the bar stool at the island while he gathered some food together.  “You like waffles?” he asked.

“I love waffles,” Y/N smiled brightly.  

While Bucky worked on breakfast Y/N took a look around the kitchen.  Since they had come to his house late at night and she had been merely surviving emotionally at the time she hadn’t been able to get a good look at the house.  She gazed at the design and layout of the kitchen that was open to the dining room, and just beyond an arched wall she could see into an office, sitting room area.  The entire house was a moody, dark academia style, making her smile again.  Dark and brooding but with charming aspects, like the man making her waffles.

“I love your house,” she said, catching his attention.  “Did you have it designed?”

“I did,” Bucky smiled, plating a waffle for her.  “My sister is an interior designer.”

“Your sister?” Y/N asked with raised eyebrows.  “How did I not know you have a sister?”

“Just because you’re my personal assistant doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you everything,” he smirked as he handed her the plate, along with a butter dish and the maple syrup.

“Obviously not,” Y/N smirked back at him.  She buttered the waffle and poured the syrup before cutting into it and taking a bite.  She sighed happily at the taste, giving Bucky an appreciative nod, making him smile.  “So good,” she mumbled around the mouthful.

“Good,” Bucky said, then turned to make some more.  He cooked up some eggs and poured her some coffee and juice.  He leaned on the island across from her and ate as well, both of them getting their fill until the waffles and eggs were gone.  He took the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before turning back to face her again.  He stared at her for a minute before licking his lips.  

Y/N sighed.  She couldn’t keep playing this back and forth, weird sexual tension game anymore.  Her emotions were all over the place, and annoyance was winning.  “You keep saying ‘I care about you.’  What does that mean?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened as he frowned.  “It means I care about you.  I want to help you, like I said.  I’ve seen these things happen before and I couldn’t just let it be–” 

“‘I’ve seen these things happen before.’  So you wanted to save me.”  She knew she was lashing out, but couldn’t stop herself.  “But it’s never happened to you, has it?”  Y/N slipped off the stool, rounded the island and came toe to toe with him, Bucky backing up slightly at her voice raising.  “You don’t know what it feels like to be afraid every day.  You don’t know what it’s like to be stalked, harassed, beaten, raped, broken!  So why do you care so much?!”  She asked, her eyes burning with more tears falling.  

Bucky’s own eyes looked teary as he looked down at her sadly.  “My sister was in an abusive relationship,” he said quietly.  “He almost killed her.  She got away and didn’t want help, but it haunted her.  She was a shell of herself.  I couldn’t lose her, she’s the only family I have left,” he swallowed harshly.  “So I helped her as best as I could.  It took her a while, but eventually she got better, and is still healing.  I don’t know how it feels.  I don’t know what you need.  I just want to help,” he said, his lips pressing together firmly.

Y/N digested his words, her mind still feeling slow in processing things.  She blinked rapidly as she sniffed.  “Fine,” she agreed.  Bucky seemed relieved and nodded.  “I’m going to get my stuff, then I’ll be out of your hair,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky said gruffly back.  

“Don’t do what?” Y/N asked.

“Don’t push me away just because I offered you help.  Don’t get angry and defensive because someone wants to take care of you,” he replied.

“I never asked for your help,” she said quietly.

“Stop it,” Bucky said, stepping closer to her.  “If you didn’t want help you wouldn’t have called me.”

She stared up at him defiantly.  He was close to her like that day when she teased him in the office a while ago.  Y/N wanted to push him, see how far he was willing to go in this back and forth they’d been having for so long.  “I care about you,” kept rattling around in her head as she tried to make sense of it.  Yes, he cared.  But it felt like something else.  Something more simmering underneath the words.  

“You care so much,” she sneered, stepping even closer.  “Why?”

“Because I’m a good person?” Bucky said incredulously.  

She shook her head.  “And?”

He looked like he was fighting against himself.  “I don’t need another reason.  And I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Is it because you want something from me?” she ventured.  “You help me and I’ll be so eternally grateful I’ll throw myself at you?”

Bucky recoiled.  “Stop that.”

“Well that’s what you want, right?” Y/N pushed further.  “I saw it that day when Steve and I were teasing you, and it went a little too far.  You wanted more,” her eyes flickered to his lips and back to his eyes.  

Bucky shut his eyes and shook his head, taking a step back.  “Y/N, you just went through something traumatic.  You’re lashing out because you don’t know how to handle it right now–”

Y/N said, stepping toward him again.  “All I need is a straight answer.  You wanted more, yes or no?”

Bucky opened his eyes but couldn’t keep her gaze.  “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said, his jaw ticking when he finished.

“Still didn’t answer my question,” Y/N said, sounding more annoyed.  “You wanna help me?  Think of this as my first round of therapy.  I’m working through some rough feelings right now, Boss.  I need an answer!”

“Yes!  Okay?  Goddammit,” Bucky said, throwing his hands up in frustration.  “Yes, I want more with you.  But that doesn’t matter.  Especially right now.  I’m not going to take advantage of a highly emotional moment in your life and try to slip in just to ‘get some,’ that’s not what I want.  And it’s insulting to me that you think that of me,” Bucky pointed his finger at her.  “Some people really do just care about you, you know that?  Some people really just want to help because they care about you, because they like you, they love you!”

Y/N was fully crying again, her arms holding herself even more tightly than before.  His raised voice was making her shrink into herself.  “No one loves me,” she whispered.

“I do!” Bucky yelled.

Y/N flinched and Bucky’s face crumpled.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Y/N said, taking a step back.  “Just please stop yelling.”

Bucky sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his face harshly before he raised his hands in front of himself like he was surrendering.  “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to yell,” he said quietly.  “Please, I…I’m just trying to help.”

Y/N bit her lip as she tried to control her crying, but instead it just made her choke on a sob that broke through.  She wasn’t scared of Bucky.  She knew he would never hurt her, but the raised voice and yelling was triggering.  “I know, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for questioning you and your motives.  I’m sorry,” she tried stepping away but he walked toward her.

“Y/N,” he pleaded.  “Don’t run away.  Please, I’m sorry,” he reached toward her, leaving his hand outstretched with his palm up as an invitation.  

Y/N’s eyes flicked from his hand to his face repeatedly.  The dichotomy of wanting to run away and hide versus wanting to be comforted was making her panic.  Ultimately she slowly reached out and gave him her hand.  Bucky slowly stepped toward her, taking her hand and holding it gently but firmly as he pulled her towards him.  She stepped toward him hesitantly, and he moved slowly as he wrapped his arms around her, watching her reactions carefully.  He pulled her until their bodies were flush against each other and her arms wrapped behind his back, tucking her face into the crook of his neck.  His hand moved to hold the back of her head against him gently, running his fingers through her hair as they breathed deeply, and she matched her breathing to his to calm down.  “I do want you,” he whispered in her ear.  “I do like you.  If I’m honest, I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment I met you.”

Y/N huffed a short laugh against his skin.  “I knew it,” she whispered.

“Can you blame me?” Bucky chuckled, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

Y/N smiled.  “Thank you, Bucky.  I’m sorry I…I don’t know what’s going on with me right now.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Bucky breathed, squeezing her tighter.  He pulled away just enough to look at her. 

They stared at each other and she gulped.  “Can I have…could we try…one k-kiss?” she asked.

Bucky’s eyes minutely widened, inhaling sharply.  “I-I don’t know if I could…stop myself at one,” he confessed.

“That’s okay,” Y/N said.  

Bucky’s eyes flickered to her lips and back to her eyes.  His hands moved from her back up to her face, cupping her cheeks and angling her head upwards.  “You want me?” he asked breathily.  Y/N nodded as he leaned forward, angling his head and brushing his lips across hers first, like he was testing the waters of his own sanity.  He finally fully pressed his lips on hers and kissed her softly.  

Y/N sucked in a breath, kissing him back just as softly.  It was just as perfect as she had dreamt it would be, from all those nights she had fallen asleep to the thought of him, while chastising herself for her feelings and denying it.  It ended too soon when he pulled away, though not too far as his nose nuzzled her nose.  Y/N whimpered at the loss, and he had to shut his eyes tight again.  “Fuck, doll, that was a pretty noise,” he groaned.  His fingers slipped back into her hair.  “More?” he begged.

Y/N nodded and he kissed her again.  This one was firmer, heavier, and his grip on her was tighter.  Her fingers fisted his shirt, her arms pulling him by the waist impossibly closer to her as she angled her head more and pushed up on her tip-toes to deepen the kiss.  Bucky grunted, and before she knew it he was picking her up and setting her on the kitchen counter.  The kisses were passionate, Bucky’s tongue sneaking out to lick at her bottom lip and Y/N opening up to him easily.  They tasted each other, nipping at each other’s lips, their hands roaming each other’s bodies.  Bucky was standing between her spread legs, his hands now kneading her thighs up to her hips as she tasted him and sucked on his tongue.  

“Holy shit, doll,” he moaned when she released him.  “I just wanna make it clear that I’m not trying to take advantage of you in a fragile state–”

“Just fuck me, Bucky,” Y/N groaned, running her fingers through his hair and pulling him back in for a seering kiss.

“Yeah…yeah okay,” Bucky huffed against her mouth, picking her up and carrying her back to the guest room.

*** 

When they got to work that next Monday Y/N was greeted with excited smiles and hugs.  Apparently word had spread quickly.  “Oh!  I’m so glad you’re okay!” Kamala said, hugging her tightly.  

Steve stepped up afterward, hugging her like she was his little sister.  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said quietly.  “So proud of you.”

Y/N smiled appreciatively at him.  “Thank you.  Thank you, everybody,” she waved at them all.  “I’m fine, really.”

“Now quit distracting my assistant.  Fuck off!” Bucky said loudly, and they all went back to work in a hurry, Steve just rolling his eyes and smiling as he walked off to his office.  Bucky had his hand on her lower back as he guided her towards his office.  Once they were inside he shut the door.  “Take a seat, doll,” he said.  “Let’s go over the schedule.”

“Alright,” Y/N nodded, getting herself settled and her notebook and phone ready.  “And uh, thank you, by the way, for kinda saving me back there.”

“No need to thank me,” Bucky shook his head.  “Now listen, I know we’re in a weird spot right now.  I want this,” he gestured between the two of them, “to work, but I don’t want you to lose this job on account of that, either.  And you’re honestly the best personal assistant I’ve ever had.  So, I want work to be work, and home to be home.  Does that sound fair?”

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling at how business-like he sounded.  

“Great,” he nodded back.  “So…the schedule.”

THE END?

[itstheghostofmypast]

Big Spoon

Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.

Genre: Fluffish

Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)

Word Count: 1.3 k

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-

"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?

"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.

"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"

"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"

Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!

"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.

"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him

"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."

His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"

"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.

Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"

"We're never getting a puppy."

"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"

With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"

Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."

"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"

"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.

"I like being the big spoon."

Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-

"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."

"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."

With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.

"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

[ataraxixia]

sunday brainrot will not leave me ALONE just thinking abt his little "triple faced gods blah blah tell the truth" AURRRGGHH need to be interrogated by him SO BAD

omg yes

I imagine a scenario where you were his little insight spy without your knowledge and he‘ll use the Harmony to coax the information out of you. But this time- he was jealous of someone he didn't know.

i‘m completely normal about this man I swear

Clematis

pairings: Yan!Sunday x reader warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Reader referred to as „Angel“, god complex Sunday (?)

it was supposed to be a simple meeting with your loving boyfriend.

when he requested your presence, you initially thought he was stressed because of work again and that he needed rest- that he needed you, as usual.

after bidding farewell to the shopkeeper you were currently with, you made your way towards the Reverie Hotel. Some Family members on the way recognized you and gave you a small smile or a simple bow- mostly due to the fact that you were Sunday‘s lover. You reciprocated the kind gesture and gave a quick smile as well, even after having the strange feeling of being watched.

once you were on the plaza in front of the Reverie, you noticed one of Sunday‘s crows on one of the fences, watching you closely. They have always been around the city and Sunday told you to simply ignore them, so you did. But today, they seemed restless; when you left Dewlight Pavillion, when you walked around Golden Hour, when you bought some snacks from a Pepeshi Person- at least one crow was watching you.

opening the doors to Dewlight Pavillion, you were expecting to see Brina behind the reception counter greeting you, but instead, you were met with utter silence- as no one was in the room. A hint of uneasiness washed over your body as you continued to traverse through the Pavillion. Even in the halls, where there were usually some guards, there was silence.

you were filled with worry before rushing towards Sunday‘s office, flinging the door open- only to see him stand leisurely in front of the bookcase.

after hearing you entering, your lover turned around and gave you his charming smile.

„Good, you‘re here, my dear.“ he said, one hand behind his back and the other directing towards an armchair. „Please, sit.“ you slowly shook your head as you turned to the door again, stuttering over your words. „The… e-entire Pavillion- there‘s.. no one.. i-is everything okay?“ as you turned back to Sunday, he gave you a reassuring smile. „yes, everything is fine, Angel. Please, calm down and sit.“ you shrugged before listening to your lover, sitting down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach did not falter one second, but you were telling yourself that you were safe as long as Sunday was there.

„Dear, you seem more stressed than I was a few moments ago. Shall I ease your worries first before I tell you mine?“ you let out a long exhale as you nodded your head. Usually, you were the one calming Sunday down after a long day; stroking his hair, cleaning his wings, kissing his temple- he always said he appreciated these small gestures and you loved to do them.

sunday did the same to you right now. He brushed a few hairs out of your face, held your cheek in his palm and kissed you lightly on the forehead, his wings engulfing your head softly. your body and mind had calmed down by the time he retracted his face and when he smiled again you mirrored it. However, when you looked closer, his smile wasn‘t genuine and behind, there were his crows- their eyes focused on you.

„Have you calmed down? May I now share my troubles with you, Angel?“ he asked like usually and without hesitation, you nodded. „Of course.“

„Perfect. Now, there have been some… ‚issues‘ inside the Family‘s network. The Bloodhound Family has been trying to apprehend a stowaway, and please, don‘t take this the wrong way when I say this,“ the feeling in your stomach only increased and you didn‘t like it.

„you meet a lot of people everyday, and the stowaway was one of them, we believe. You wouldn‘t mind telling me about that, would you?“ Sunday had his hand on your cheek and stroked it softly with his thumb, the fabric of his gloves smooth on you skin, but your breath hitched as his hand traveled to you chin, holding it.

"I'm afraid I don't know a-anything." you tried to sound normal, but the small stutter gave you away, yet Sunday only chuckled. "I don't need any of your lies today, love. My patience has been running thin these past few days." his charming smile was replaced with a small frown and your body was betraying you. You tried to compose yourself, but it was futile.

"I only need truths." Sunday said and his whole demeanor changed.

"Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."

your whole mind was shooting blanks as you felt an unfamiliar dizziness wash over you. The whole room was becoming too colorful, and your lover's face became distorted as he made you look at him again.

"I apologize for the circumstances, but you gave me no choice. Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed." his words were echoing in your ears and you finally realized the situation you were in.

The crows, the empty pavilion, the Harmony: he was watching you.

"Who were the people you met two days ago on the Dream's Edge?" he asked and multiple memories flooded your mind. At this very moment, you were scared. Scared at your Lover. You didn't want to answer but a terrible headache took your mind off the idea.

"...not many, I remember... Chadwick, Colleen, those small birds... and that one... man?" the headache eased once you answered but the Harmony's influence was still present.

"What man? What was his name? What did his appearance look like? What did the two of you talk about?" you wanted to get up from your seat and run away, return to reality- but you knew that your legs had no ounce of strength.

"I don't remember his name, but it was something with A... Adan, I believe...and he had blonde hair, I think... with brown eyes." the room was getting more and more blurry with each second you didn't answer, but the loss of equilibrium made even your memories hazy. "We talked about the view of the Dreamscape... yes, that's it.." Sunday hummed unsatisfied as he heard your answer, clicking his tongue.

"What else? What else did you talk about?"

"I don't remember...! My head hurts..." Sunday held your face in his hands and made you look at him. His hands were soft to the touch and a worried smile was plastered on his lips. "I really didn't want to do this, Angel." he cooed, his face close to yours. "You know I only want the best for you, don't you?" those sweet words made your heart melt as you remembered the times where he took the blame if you accidentally ruined some of the Family's documents or when you broke something in Dewlight Pavilion.

"Angel, I gave you everything, and I can give you even more- I can give you everything that exists in the world, just tell me what I want to know." your breath hitched before he placed a soft kiss on your lips and you think you lost your mind after everything was hazy. Your memory, your view, the voices- everything became duller and duller by the second. Sunday asked something and you answered, but you can't comprehend what you said. You only felt his hand graze your temple before darkness engulfed you and you blacked out.

the soft humming, a calming scent, and a damp towel on your forehead welcomed you when you regained consciousness. as you slowly opened your eyes, a feather before your eyes greeted you and the humming stopped.

"You're awake. I was afraid you wouldn't wake up today." Sunday said softly, his hand on yours, stroking it gently. "...what?" you groaned as you fully regained consciousness, the headache returning tenfold. The damp towel was replaced by a hand, and you heard some whispering from Sunday.

"...oh, Triple-Faced Soul, may their fatigue vanish completely and let the harmony heal their mind."

you sighed as your body and mind calmed down, your worries from before disappearing. "Sunday...? what happened?" you asked when you saw his face full of worry.

"Nothing that needs your concern, Angel. Please, rest up and let me take care of you. Will you allow me?" you nodded at his gentle words and he hummed contently. His hand grazed over your arms as you felt more at ease before slowly falling asleep again. Sunday continued humming, even as he turned his face to his crows.

"Inform someone from the Bloodhound Family of this individual, and let them apprehend this... "stowaway." the crows disappeared in a blinks eye before he faced you again. The frown turned into a small smile again as he bent down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"No one is allowed to 'flirt' with what is mine."

A/N: hehahehafuu I'm going feral because of this man

[mikashisus]

MAY THE WIND PROTECT YOU

SYNOPSIS: kinich recalls each time he heard you speak mondstadtian, each memory making him miss you more than the last. meanwhile, you return home to mondstadt.

PAIRING: kinich x gn!reader

TAGLIST ! @aphrodict @wystiix @tragedy-of-commons @pixelcafe-network @papiliotao

contains: poorly translated german, ajaw, intense pining (on both sides), down bad kinich, last part is not edited

word count: 4.4k

notes: THIS IS A PART 2!! writing this was sm fun guys, i had a field day with each scene. i wanted to post this yesterday on his bday, but gwen told me it'd be such a power move if i posted it today bc today is MY bday, so that's what i'm doing >:) crazy that his bday is a day before mine.

i was listening to this ost the entire time i was writing the mond scenes. when the mc mentioned the lullaby, that song is what i was referring to! anyw enjoy! TY ZIRA FOR PROOFREADING!!

part one!

The first time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was two weeks after you arrived in Natlan. 

A merchant from Mondstadt had set up shop at the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. By pure chance, Kinich had been showing you around the Stadium that day. 

(Somehow, it slipped his mind that you were from Mondstadt— despite the fact that you unintentionally made it abundantly clear you were a foreigner by the way you dressed and your poor attempt to speak the language of Natlan.) 

As soon as you set your sights on the merchant’s wares, you were sprinting over to his stall, eagerly shouting in what sounded like an aggressive tone to the people around you. Kinich followed, worry pooling in his gut at the sudden commotion you just made. 

All your worries about wanting to set a good first impression had been thrown out the window the moment you saw a familiar face. With the way you and the merchant were animatedly speaking, anyone passing by would’ve assumed you were lifelong friends. However, that was not the case. 

Mondstadters were well known for being extremely welcoming and hospitable, especially within their own nation. Anyone who ever traveled there always put in a good word about their stay, claiming that although the nation’s ways of greeting foreigners was a bit odd, the entire populace had this unique charm that made everyone instantly feel at home there. Paired with the ever-flowing wind and the ideals of freedom and peace, Mondstadt seemed to be a true paradise. 

The few merchants Kinich had run into in the past were fairly kind people, though there was always this edge to them that made them feel a bit aggressive. Maybe it was their way of speaking… or their blunt honesty. 

Joining your side, Kinich realized you weren’t speaking the universal language of Teyvat anymore, and that now, you were speaking a language that sounded rough and throaty.

This must’ve been the language of Mondstadt. He only ever heard a few words here and there in passing through merchants he met in the past. 

He couldn’t understand a word you were saying, but he liked hearing your voice in its primitive state. 

The merchant made a gesture towards you, and you threw your head back in raucous laughter. Kinich wondered what you were talking about. A few moments later, he heard the words ‘Dornman Port’ fall from your lips, and he assumed that the topic shifted to where you were from. 

“It’s not everyday you see a Mondstadter down here in the South! Where are you from?” 

“Dornman Port!“ You answered eagerly, ”my family’s been living there for generations, but recently my grandparents moved to the city to get better access to healthcare.” 

“Ah, I see. No wonder your accent sounded familiar! My family’s a bit North of Dornman, more inland towards—“ 

From the excited way you two were speaking, Kinich guessed based on context clues that you and this merchant were from the same hometown.

Finally, you seemed to turn your attention back to the merchant’s wares, and your eyes practically sparkled once you set your sights on his entire alcohol supply. 

(You weren’t a true child of Mondstadt if you didn’t cherish your booze.) 

Pointing to a vintage bottle of something that was labeled in Mondstadt’s native tongue, you fished some mora out of your satchel.

“I haven’t seen many Mondstadters down here,” you said, resuming your earlier conversation, “not that we can’t travel to other nations, I just mean—“ 

“It’s strange?” The merchant finished your sentence. “I get that a lot from the locals. Usually, Fontainians visit Natlan the most, though I suppose that’s not too surprising. The hot springs are great!” 

“Speaking of Fontaine, I was suspected of being Fontainian my first year here. The looks on the locals’ faces after hearing I’m from the Crown of the North were priceless!”  

You took the bottle of Dandelion Wine and smiled. “I bet! I got questioned a bit too on my arrival a few weeks back.” 

He eyed the journal in your hands. “Akademiya student?” 

“Yes, sir! Vahumana Darshan!” You nodded. “I’ll be here in Natlan for six months to work on my thesis.” 

Glancing at Kinich, you suddenly felt a pang of guilt rush through you. Unintentionally, you had been making him wait this whole time. You quickly wrapped up your conversation with the merchant, explaining that Kinich was your ‘tour guide’ and you had to leave. 

“Good luck with your studies!” The merchant shook your hand, his grip firm. It reminded you of your father’s handshakes. “Let the Wind lead, youngster.” 

“Danke! May the Anemo Archon bless you! Tschüss!” 

The second time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was when a yumkasaur had stolen your journal and decided not to give it back. 

(He didn’t think he’d ever heard someone curse so much in his life— aside from Ajaw.)

Although he couldn’t understand what you were saying, he just knew you were cursing that yumkasaur to the high heavens. And as soon as he helped you get your journal back, you cursed the yumkasaur out again as it hissed at you and flew away. 

It took a heavy amount of restraint for Kinich not to burst out laughing. You could’ve sworn a small snort had escaped from his lips as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, but that was the least of your priorities. 

Your main focus was on the big chunk taken out of your journal. 

A few pages of your journal were missing, meaning you had to rewrite three pages (front and back) of all the research you found in some Dahri ruins nearby the Scions of the Canopy. 

To say you had been angry was an understatement. You hadn’t stopped rambling in Mondstadtian for the rest of the week, and Kinich was more than a little worried you were going to throw yourself off the balcony outside your villa. 

(You didn’t, but other people from his tribe did say you spent the remainder of the week in those ruins — which, to be frank, was concerning considering you always outright refused to go exploring during the day. 

When he found you, you were mumbling to yourself and teetering on the edge of becoming someone’s sleep paralysis demon. Long story short, he had to drag you back to your villa.)

Needless to say, that was a fond memory of his, despite your imminent despair that entire week. 

It had been five months since you returned to Sumeru. Five grueling months of convincing himself he didn’t miss you as much as he truly did. 

There was a significant decline in his mood since then. 

Ever since he walked you to the borders between the Children of Echoes’ settlement and the Sumeru desert— where an escort from the Eremites was waiting (he remembered you addressing her as ‘Dehya’) —he’d been all down in the dumps. 

At first, Ajaw had a field day teasing him, until eventually, the mini pixelated dragon got tired of his sour attitude and stopped mentioning you altogether. 

One mention of you and Kinich became snappy and pissy. If he saw something that reminded him of you, he began sulking like a kicked puppy. It was amusing to Ajaw… at first. But as time dragged on, it just made him more and more annoyed. 

(“Are they all you think about!?” Ajaw screamed once after Kinich bought a bottle of Dandelion Wine from that merchant you would always talk to. 

Kinich didn’t answer, but the pout on his lips was enough to make it clear to anyone that yes… you were all he thought about.) 

He found himself back at the same merchant’s stall, immediately putting Ajaw in timeout before he could even utter a word. 

The Mondstadt merchant greeted Kinich with a firm, friendly handshake. “Welcome back! Did you enjoy the Dandelion Wine?” 

Kinich nodded curtly. “Yes. It was quite good. My tribe enjoyed it, as well.” He paused. “Where was it made?” 

The merchant’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He probably wasn’t expecting that question. He stroked his chin. “Well, you’ve probably heard of it if you’re a wine lover, but most alcoholic beverages from Mondstadt are brewed by the famous Dawn Winery.” 

Kinich had heard of it, though only in passing from merchants. 

“The Dawn Winery’s the reason Mondstadt’s even known as the wine capital of Teyvat. Without the winery, Master Diluc, Mondstadt’s fertile soil, and the wine brewing methods taught to us by Lord Barbatos, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” 

“The Anemo Archon taught you how to brew wine?” Kinich raised a brow. 

The merchant nodded. “Why, of course! Back when the people of Mondstadt migrated to Cider Lake, Lord Barbatos taught our ancestors the intricacies of wine making, and over time, his original technique had been refined into what it is today!” 

Interesting. So that was how Mondstadt’s wine business began. 

“We even have wine festivals to honor Lord Barbatos,” the merchant continued, piquing Kinich’s curiosity, “Weinlesefest is the most common. Every harvest, families come together to brew wine and offer it up to Lord Barbatos as a sort of ‘welcome home’ gift for the western wind. If he’s satisfied with the wine, he blesses us with a refreshing breeze.” 

Weinlesefest. He heard you talk about it once in passing with a different merchant. He couldn’t understand what you were saying, as you had been speaking Mondstadtian, but he knew it had to do with a festival; seeing as it was one of the first things the merchant had brought up in conversation. 

“I see.” Kinich nodded curtly, making a mental note to ask you about the Weinlesefest in his next letter. “So… does the whole nation celebrate?” 

The merchant nodded. “Yep! It’s a time of gathering together with family and friends. Mondstadters living away from home usually come back for Weinlesefest.” He let out a heavy sigh. “In fact, it’s happening right now. But work is work, so I can’t visit my wife and kids. I can only hope Lord Barbatos will keep them safe in my absence.” 

Kinich was slowly learning how Mondstadt worked the more and more he talked with Mondstadters. He sent a small smile to the merchant and bought three bottles of wine this time, even going as far as to pay extra. 

“I hope you can return home soon and see your family.” A small pang of something bitter settled in his chest. 

Family. 

“Tschüss.” He muttered, the word feeling odd and unusual on his tongue. 

The merchant’s face lit up with pure, unbridled joy. He shook Kinich’s hand once more, firmer and more enthusiastically than the other times. It was obvious Kinich had just made this man’s day, even if it was something so simple as saying ‘goodbye’ in his language. 

“Tschüss!” 

That night, he sat on his bed, writing out another letter. He occasionally glanced at the last one you had sent him, his fingers gently tracing your elegant handwriting. 

(Name), 

I visited the Stadium today to receive a commission. The merchant you always talk to, Klaus?? was there again. He told me the history behind wine making in Mondstadt. 

It’s interesting that your Archon taught you that. He also mentioned that Weinlesefest is happening right now. I remember you mentioning that festival a few times before. Did you go home for the festival? What does your family do to celebrate? Speaking of… how is your family? And your grandparents?

Everything is going well in the Scions of the Canopy. We’re recovering from the losses of the war, along with the nation as a whole, but there is still a large scar. The toll will be great for a while, but all we can do is move forward and honor the fallen. 

You don’t need to worry about us, by the way. Mavuika is strong. Speaking of Mavuika, she’ll be heading off for the final fight in a few weeks’ time. Everyone’s antsy, but we know she’ll pull through. She isn’t the Archon for nothing. 

-Kinich 

P.S. - Mualani insisted on taking you to visit the People of the Springs the next time you’re here… but knowing you, I don’t think you’ll like the hot springs :P 

P.P.S. U BETER RETURN IN 1 PEACE LOWKY HOOMAN OR I W1LL  KILL U  >:( -AJAW

The day your vacation was confirmed, you jumped for joy right in the middle of the House of Daena. It earned you a halfhearted glare from Alhaitham, the Akademiya’s scribe, but you didn’t care in the slightest. You were just happy you finally got your much needed vacation. 

You weren’t close with the scribe. Your relationship was far from anything like that, but you saw him enough on a daily basis to consider him an acquaintance. He often occupied a table in the House of Daena, either reading a book or writing furiously in a notebook. 

There were a few times you visited his office to drop off parts of your thesis for peer review, though he was never there when you did. His office hours were listed right next to the door in bold letters, yet he was never present for them. It made you raise a brow and wonder how he was even still employed if he never even showed up for his required office hours. 

Though, he did give you the proper feedback you needed for your thesis, so you couldn’t really complain. 

“I didn’t know you oversaw vacation notices,” you said, glancing up at your senior as he stood next to you. “I thought your only job was to record things for the Akademiya. Oh! That reminds me, when is my thesis presentation?” 

He sighed. “Being the scribe is more complicated than that. And yes, all proposals for vacations go straight to my office from the drop box.” 

You hummed. “So like, how does that work? Do you just check a box that says ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” 

“If the proposal was sent in during a break period, then it gets approved. Any proposals sent in after the break period are denied. The presentation for your thesis is scheduled for three months from now in the Vahumana Lecture Hall at two o’clock sharp. The Dendro Archon will be present alongside the Vahumana Sage and the Grand Sage. Be prepared to answer any and all questions from all of them.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you waved him off dismissively, “I already received that info in my mailbox.” 

Three months from now… Did you have anything planned for that day? You thought it over. 

“Shit.” You muttered.

“Something wrong?” Alhaitham questioned, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“My hometown has its annual food festival that week… Ah, well, there’s always next year.” It still stung, though. It would be the first time you missed it. “Besides, I’ll be home for Weinlesefest, so that should be enough.” 

Your parents would be upset, but they’d understand. Your thesis was a big deal, after all. As long as you were home for Weinlesefest, you knew they wouldn’t mind you missing out on Dornman Port’s annual food fest. 

You stood up and grabbed your bag. “Well, I should pack. And mail my letter before I leave.” 

“I’ll be stopping off at Port Ormos later. I can mail it for you.” Alhaitham offered. 

Although he didn’t show it, Alhaitham was kind. This was something you had to learn the hard way after a few misunderstandings. He had his own way of showing kindness, and it was often through his actions rather than his words. 

“Really? That’d be awesome! I have so much to do before I leave, I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to make it to the mailing office.” You dug through your bag and pulled out a letter, handing it to him. 

His eyes scanned the envelope, his brow raising slightly in surprise. He shot you a knowing look, but he didn’t pry. 

“Thanks, Scribe!” 

“Alhaitham.” He corrected, nodding curtly before taking his leave. 

You smiled as you watched him go. Friendship with the scribe: secured! 

The boat ride home to Dornman Port was long and grueling, but the crew was friendly and had a good sense of humor. You found yourself making a few new friends in unexpected places. 

The soft breeze of eternal Spring shifted to a biting chill in the air as the boat neared your beloved hometown. The wind whipped violently, howling like the infamous Wolf King of Wolvendom. 

Up North, the winds were harsher and colder. There was a legend in your hometown— that a god ruling over this section of land during the Archon War had died with many regrets, and therefore, cursed the land with a wintry wind that would never cease. 

Whether or not that had been true was a mystery. The god’s name was long forgotten from Mondstadt, and so too was their legacy. The only person who could possibly provide evidence to those events would be the Anemo Archon himself. 

The boat docked and the sailors let out heavy sighs of relief. One clapped you on the back cheerfully. 

“How’s it feel to be home?” He questioned, a big smile on his face as he kicked a wooden plank onto the docks. 

You smiled, inhaling the cold air you missed oh so much. The same air that you had been longing to feel on your skin for months. 

“Good… great, actually!” you answered, thanking him as he helped you off the boat. 

You looked around, taking in the sight of the familiar bustling port with navy rooftops and tightly packed houses. Lanterns were strung between lampposts, ornate garland hung from the sides of houses and wrapped around streetlights. Market stalls occupied every corner, accompanied by the occasional yell of a merchant trying to sell their wares. 

Dandelions were blown up into the air as children roamed the streets, waving around wooden swords and weaving between adults’ legs. A stray dog followed behind the group, barking happily. 

The sweet tune of a lyre and a flute rang in your ears from a distance, and you quickly realized it was that same familiar Dornman lullaby that all Mondstadtians knew by heart— specifically those of you born in the far North. The song was soothing and nostalgic to your ears, opening the floodgates to a whole range of memories from your childhood. 

You inhaled the biting air again, this time with your eyes closed. “Yeah… it’s more than great to be home.” 

The sailors bid you farewell, claiming they’d see you again once you returned to Sumeru. Enthusiastically giving them your goodbyes, you watched as they loaded trade goods onto their ship before taking your leave. 

Dornman was exactly how you left it: serene yet lively. 

You stopped to chat with a few of the elders, greeting them excitedly. They asked about your studies, how your thesis was coming along, and wished you luck in your future endeavors. 

Passing by a group of kids you swore were only a few apples tall the last time you saw them, they called out to you and asked if you brought any souvenirs back for them. Showing them your empty hands, they began to pout and call you old as you playfully threatened to kick their asses. 

They ran away giggling, pretending to scream at the ‘scary monster they provoked.’ 

Shaking your head with a smile, you continued on your walk home, greeting other familiar faces as you did so.

Tucked away behind a few hills and farther from the main streets of the port, was your parents’ house. Seeing the same, old rickety wooden gate still standing tall was a surprise. You could’ve sworn that thing had fallen by now, but it was still here, on its last leg. 

The eager barking of two dogs could be heard as you unlocked the gate and walked up the stone path. Spotting the beds of flowers outside the windows, you smiled. It seemed as though your father had been participating in his yearly flower competition again with the old ladies that lived just down the road. 

You leaned down to take in the smell of the fresh cecilias, your favorite. 

The old door of your home hadn’t changed, and the decorative basket of flowers hanging from the front hadn’t either. You picked up the handle of the dove doorknocker and waited, listening as the sounds of barking got louder and louder. 

A series of locks clicked before the door swung open and two black and brown dogs came tumbling out, knocking you onto the stone path. You laughed as they licked your face, excited for your return. 

“Millie! Hashbrown!” You hugged each of them, placing kisses on their heads before you stood back up. 

Your father embraced you, hugging you tightly. You returned the hug, smiling as you pulled away. He took your bags from you and ushered you inside, claiming your mother had baked a few pies to celebrate your return home. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with your family, telling them all about your studies in the Akademiya and your long trip in Natlan. You told them about Kinich, a man from the Scions of the Canopy. 

That’s when your mother sent you a knowing look. Nothing ever escaped her know, especially when it had to do with crushes. You assumed it was because of that rumored sixth sense that all mothers possessed. Or maybe the smile on your face as you talked about Kinich was just too obvious. 

You told them how you and Kinich wrote letters to each other as much as you could, though it was getting harder for you to keep that up when exams had rolled around. 

“Speaking of mail,” your father interrupted, standing up, “we received a letter a few hours ago from a ‘Kinich.’” 

He handed you the envelope and you snatched it from his hands, ignoring the way he snickered at you as you did so. He took another sip of his beer and sighed. 

“Oh, and there was a package too!” He rummaged around on the kitchen table before handing you a tightly wrapped package. 

Confused, you took it. You had no idea what could even be inside it, but assuming it had arrived at the same time as Kinich’s letter, you guessed it was from him. Your mother stood up. 

“Let’s give them some privacy, dear.” She patted your father’s chest and ushered your siblings out of the room before sending you a wink. 

You rolled your eyes and opened the envelope, smiling absentmindedly at Kinich’s somewhat messy handwriting and the complete scribbles at the bottom of the page that were nearly indecipherable. Judging by the chicken scratch, you deduced the last message had been from Ajaw. 

You ripped open the package and set aside the note. Inside was a handmade blanket with a small note that claimed it was made by the Flower Feather Clan. 

You admired the swirling designs and hugged it to your chest. So he had remembered how much you loved blankets. Receiving such a high quality gift meant the world to you, as did the thought of him going to such lengths to have it handmade just for you. 

Digging through to the bottom of the box, you found a neatly wrapped vintage bottle of Dandelion Wine, silently cheering. You’d enjoy this with your family during the rest of the festival.

One last item sat at the bottom, so small you almost overlooked it. Pulling it out, you slipped it out of the velvet bag it was in and your jaw dropped. A gold necklace with purple and blue crystals fell into your palm, cold to the touch. 

Based on the fine craftsmanship, you could tell it had been crafted by a blacksmith from the Children of Echoes, and the crystals had been from the Masters of the Night Wind. 

Kinich really didn’t have to get you all this. Was there some sort of special occasion, or had he just wanted to send you gifts? You weren’t sure, but you were already thinking of some Mondstadt specialties you could send him in return. 

Heading up to your bedroom, you placed the gifts on your bed and grabbed a piece of paper from your desk. You sat down near the windowsill and unclasped the latch, pushing your window open. A cold breeze wafted inside, the scent of dandelions invading your room. The wind chimes hanging from your window sang in the wind, their sound comforting to your ears. 

You began to write. 

Dear Kinich, 

Thank you for all your thoughtful gifts!! Based on the fact you mentioned Klaus in your letter, I’m guessing you bought the Dandelion Wine off him, didn’t you? 

Pass on my regards to him! Möge der Wind dich beschützen! 

Weinlesefest has officially kicked off! Unfortunately, I missed the opening ceremony in the city, but tomorrow we’ll be opening the wines in my hometown! At least I haven’t missed that! The opening of the wines is the most important part of Weinlesefest, as it honors Lord Barbatos. 

My family is doing great as ever! Same old, same old, honestly. I’ll be seeing my grandparents in a few days, as my family will be taking a trip to the city to celebrate the festival with them! Unfortunately, I have to go back to the Akademiya in a week to continue my studies and refine my thesis per the Scribe’s suggestions. I wish I could be home longer, but school is school :( 

I’m glad to hear everything has blown over somewhat smoothly and all of you are safe. I can’t imagine everything you’ve had to witness, but I’ll offer up prayers of my own for the fallen (is that okay? That isn’t insensitive right…? Please tell me if it is). 

I hope the healing and rebuilding is going smoothly. If I was there, I would help in a heartbeat. Oh! I have an architect acquaintance in Sumeru! Maybe he and his team could help…? Say the word, and I’ll request his help! 

NO, I think I would melt into a puddle if I ever even stepped FOOT into those hot springs… Sorry Mualani, but I’m good… I’d rather stay in the brisk trees of the Scions of the Canopy.

Thank you once again for the gifts. I’ll cherish them. 

Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen. 

Sincerely, 

(Name) 

P.S. I’ll return back safely to you, Ajaw. Don’t worry! :)

notes: including all the german words were sm fun to do bc i'm german (not too familiar with the language but i'm in the process of learning!) and i am a firm believer that teyvat has their own languages, and dialects within those languages. some translations: danke = thank you, tschüss = goodbye, Möge der Wind dich beschützen = may the wind protect you, Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen = may the fires of natlan stay ever burning

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.