#but the inner arm finally is and so when i'm standing straight on it's like full coverage

[peakvincent]

i got new TATTOOS today and one of them is a lil gap filler and it’s a tooth and i think it’s so cool.... i’m really happy with it.... and two of them are FRUITS i got STRAWBERRIES and RASPBERRIES and i’m happy.... and now i’m high and watching a bad movie. everything’s nice here! happy thursday

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Wingspan

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Minors denied. Don't want me to write the list of all shameful things I wrote under the cut

Because I've spent whole week with sick 2 years old child, managed to get sick as well and I'm deprived of Azriel because last two months I'm writing only Heal me and as soon as he appeared on scene, this invaded my mind.. Honestly too many reasons to write something silly ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

"Okay, guys. You know why we are here," I started. "At first I'd like to thank you that you voluntarily signed up as subjects for this research."

"We compare our pricks whole life. It's our pleasure that somebody finally took it seriously and wants to write a whole book about it," Cassian teased, laughing hard.

Rhysand was trying really hard to keep a straight face the whole time, but after Cassian's comment he was about to lose it, and Azriel standing in the dark corner rather disappeared in his shadows after this comment.

How did I even get into this situation? Well, I knew how. It all happened because I was a passionate researcher. Too passionate for my own good.

It all started with mated Archeron sisters and Mor who wouldn't stop debating about this thing of a correlation of wingspan with the size of Illyrian male's private parts. It picked up my interest and I searched the entire library to find out more info about it. Utterly failing in the process, there wasn't a single mention. There wasn't even a proper documentation of their wings alone. So I took it upon myself to collect necessary data to confirm or deny truth of this rumour. I briefly mentioned it to Rhys hoping he could help me find enough subjects for the research. Which he did in surprisingly short time. And as if it wasn't enough he and his brothers signed up, too.

"That part I will leave to you. I hope I can count on you to deliver accurate numbers. If you try to cheat I'll have your mates to do it properly," I laughed, but I meant every single word.

"I'm sure Nes would be all for it," Cassian grinned proudly.

"As if Feyre wouldn't," Rhysand lost it. I had to laugh. I was afraid it would turn into something awkward, but with these two it was impossible. They were like kids, turning everything into a funny game.

I met Rhysand under the mountain. He witnessed the moment my ex betrayed me and when Feyre saved us all, he picked up my remains and brought me to Velaris to heal. In the end I decided to stay here. I buried love, lust and everything related to it as deep as possible and focussed on what I liked - research - occasionally helping inner circle.

"At least they certainly won't cheat," I smiled. "This research origins in their concern after all."

The three of us laughed so hard we cried. Only Azriel stayed silent hidden in his corner.

"And who will make sure Azriel doesn't cheat?" Cassian wondered.

"Why should I," Azriel stepped out from his hideaway, lowering a challenging gaze at me.

"I believe Azriel is the last one of three of you to use such dirty tricks to manipulate the results," I said, returning his gaze. "But if he does, I'll personally make sure he delivers true data."

His hazel eyes lit up with mischief and corners of his full lips slightly moved upward in a hardly there smirk. He wasn't so different from his brothers. More serious than these two? Certainly, but he could be playful, too.

"Okay, guys, let's get it done. Who is the first to show off the wingspan?"

This was the part I'd been looking forward the most. Illyrian wings, the most important subject of my research and to be honest, the main reason of this fuss. So sacred that sometimes even their lovers weren't allowed to touch them. Not that I could touch them by any mean. Boys only granted me to take measurements and a close look to make detailed sketches. Totally understandable given how sensitive they were.

All three of them took turns one in a time, helping me when my arms were too short. I took measurements of different parts of their bodies, too, just to be sure I have all I could possibly need to get accurate results. I wrote down numbers into my notebook, already amazed by the results.

"That's all for today. Thank you for your time. When can I expect the other data?"

"You can get them even right now, if you want, but I guess you don't want to see it, do you?" Cassian, always such a tease. I shook my head laughing.

"Would tomorrow morning be a soon enough for you?" Rhysand purred, flashing a smile. "Tonight we're going to have a lot of fun with Feyre."

"It would be perfect," I agreed. The sooner I was done here, the sooner I could go to camps to collect data from volunteers Rhysand had found for me.

Cassian and Rhysand left soon after, but ever-silent Azriel stayed behind.

He seemed to be so flustered and nervous while I was taking his measurements. Cassian was picking on him for that, but Azriel stoically ignored him and held still. It seemed he didn't even breathe. I knew he didn't like to be touched. It was the biggest of the surprises that he voluntarily signed up for this, so I was extra careful with him.

Ever since I met him, he was always very kind and considerate to me. However it took some time until he opened up. It's just few months since we started to hang out more. Not that I wouldn't like him. If I were honest, I would admit that he was very interesting person, I liked him a lot and he was so incredibly handsome. Too handsome to be real.

But that's exactly the way I wasn't suppose to think about him. I'm the type who falls easily and hard, and loves with all her being. That's why I was so devastated last time. Nobody could possibly love somebody like me. I'm unbearable in many ways.

Plus he is too high league for somebody like me. He can have anybody he wants and the line of prospects is long. Elain and Gwyn for example compete for his attention for years. Successfully. There's no way he would think of me that way. I shook my head to get rid of these self harming thoughts.

Turning I smiled at him encouragingly. Azriel cleared his throat, wings rustled behind his back. He did this often when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"The camps.. are you planning to go there alone?" His deep voice always did this strange thing with my insides. And today was no different. I pushed the feeling aside, to the box of things I shouldn't think about and shut it closed.

"No, I believe last time Rhysand mentioned something about sending an escort. Mor is going with me, too."

"Okay," he nodded. His one word responses the were death of me. It was so hard to keep conversation going.

"Uhm.. So tomorrow? You don't have to hurry if it's inconvenient for you."

"Tomorrow is fine."

"Oh.. So.. uhm.. I'll see you tomorrow." Shadowsinger just nodded looking down at me a little longer than necessary and then finally he turned and left. I let out a long breath.

Next day Rhys came as the first one as soon as I entered my office. I guess he couldn't wait. Cassian stopped by as soon as the training with priestesses was over. I checked their results with their mates during the lunch break just to be sure the numbers are correct.

It was almost evening and Azriel was nowhere to be seen. I packed some of the stuff I needed to take to camps and took a look around. There was nothing else to keep me occupied, so I decided it's time to go home. I was about to open the door when a knock sounded. It was Azriel.

"You came," I greeted him with smile.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner. I was-"

"It's okay," I interrupted him. "You really don't need to apologise. I'm grateful you signed up for this."

He made a small noise and handed me a piece of folded paper. I took it and returned to my desk where I left the notebook with all data.

"Were you going to go home already?" he asked while I unfolded the paper.

"Yeah, you came just in time. One minute later and I would be gone." I looked at the number and froze. No way, this was certainly wrong. I compared it to the other numbers. Definitely wrong.

"Something's wrong?" he stepped closer, peeking down on me.

"What?" I was so immersed in my thoughts I didn't hear him. "Excuse me," I said boldly and reached for his crotch. Just to make things clear, I wasn't completely myself, otherwise I wouldn't dare to even think about doing so. In that very moment I was simply researcher and nothing else.

Azriel sharply inhaled, eyes widened, but he held still, blushing heavily.

"As I thought," I mumbled to myself releasing him. "Sweetheart, you were supposed to measure yourself when you are.. You know.. 'excited'. I really didn't think you would try to sabotage the research," I tried to joke to lighten his embarrassment. "With your .. equipment.. there's no reason for you to lose. I thought you are quite competitive."

He just silently looked to the side while the shadows danced around him as if trying to hide him.

"Or did you want me to help you with it?" I smiled teasingly. His head snapped up, hazel eyes finding mine. "Sit down there," I pointed to an armchair near the window. While he did as I asked him, I took a chair, placing it next to the armchair, facing the other side. I took the notebook, a towel and a tape measure I used the other day, and sat down on the chair.

I looked at him amused. From this angle I could see only his face and shoulders. "Go ahead. I won't look." With that I opened the notebook looking for the page, but he hadn't moved gazing up at me.

I smiled still leafing through pages. "Let me tell you a secret, okay? We have something in common, Az." I leaned closer to him as if it was really a secret I was about to reveal. "When I say I won't look, then I really won't do it." I looked straight into his eyes to make it clear that I meant it. "I can even measure you without seeing it. I don't need to touch you either. All I need is for this measure to touch you. That's all. So take your pants off and let me know when you are ready."

At this moment he was panting heavily, his pupils dilated. "Do you want me to chit chat you through it? Or do you prefer silence?" I added, arching a brow at him when he just sat there gazing. Finally he moved and I heard as his pants slid down. Azriel's gaze darkened, his eyes never leaving mine.

He swallowed, his broad chest heaving. "I'm ready" he rasped, his usually deep voice deepened even more. I'd be lying if I said it didn't effect me. Now it was my turn to blush.

I handed him the towel. "Cover yourself." I stood up slowly to give him enough time. I turned to him placing notebook on a small side table within arm's reach. I gasped when I looked down at him. My heart went crazy, running for marathon and I could only wish he didn't hear it.

Azriel sat in the armchair in full grace as if it was his throne, his bare legs with muscles on right places spread wide, towel crumpled in his fist. He grinned challengingly.

Okay, maybe we have more than one thing in common. I hate losing, too.

My mouth went dry and I was panting as heavily as Azriel. My head emptied. It took me every ounce of self-control to step between his legs, control my trembling hands and measure him. But I did it, I didn't break.

"Much better," I said coolly as I wrote results down. I collected my things, ready to leave.

"You want to leave me like this, Y/N?" Azriel growled lowly.

I made the mistake and looked into his beautiful eyes. I wasn't sure what I'd seen in them, but it dug out all forgotten feelings. As wave of lust washed over me I lost control over myself. I sat down on the armrest, my legs brushing his thigh lightly. I placed hands on his shoulders and leaned in.

"You are right. I should repay you," I whispered inches from him.

For a while Azriel watched me as a starved man. Slowly, very slowly he erased the distance between us, his soft lips colliding with mine. The moan that came out from his throat made me forget whatever happened after that.

When his fingers found a waistband of my pants and started unbuttoning them, it was like a cold shower. I broke the kiss, untangling my fingers from his silky dark strands. Eyes still closed, his lips followed after me. I squeezed his fingers in my hands and he looked up at me. I could see he wasn't pleased that I stopped him, but he didn't try to pressure me.

"This part of me is not on offer," I said calmly sending him a sad smile. There wasn't reason to be mad. It was my fault in the first place, I was the one to provoke him. "For you it might be just another one night stay that you forget all about very next morning, but I'm different." I stood up fixing my clothes. "I take male to bed only when I have feelings for him and vice versa." He frowned, ready to say something. "I'm trying to say.. for me it isn't just sex.. To do it, I need real relationship, real feelings, security.. Lust isn't enough. I'm sorry." I left quickly and he didn't try to stop me this time.

Next day early in the morning I left to collect data at camps. Work helped me to forget about that night, but as soon as I stopped, it all returned. The most scary thing was to return back to Velaris and meet him. So I extended my stay as much as possible.

Four months later I was sitting in a sitting room of River House, chatting with Feyre and Mor by the fireplace after the family dinner. I collected all data to get some presentable results and currently I was half through writing in down. (Just between us, the rumors have proven to be true. Larger wingspan equals bigger you-know-what)

It was few weeks since I returned to Velaris and so far Azriel was avoiding me as much as possible. When we happened to be in the same room, he didn't even acknowledge me, looking the other side. So much for my fear.

Did it hurt? As hell. He was my friend. The feelings he awakened that night also didn't disappear over night, haunting me down every spare minute I had. I pushed them deep down, but it was too late. I'd already fallen for him.

During our stay at camps, Mor found out that something must have happened before we left, but she'd never asked about it. Which I was very grateful for. I wasn't ready to talk about it.

Now she kept peeking somewhere behind me, biting on her lower lip, unusually silent. Something was obviously bothering her. I could ask her straight away, but I decided to give her 5 minutes to see if she would start to talk on her own. It took exactly 3 minutes.

"Uhm, Y/N, tell me. Something happened between you and Az?"

"I may have hurt his male ego. Why?" I replied as casually as possible.

"He keeps eyeing you and I know that look too well. He watched me like that for five centuries, but it's never turned into something so... Desperate?" She turned to Feyre. "What do you think?"

Feyre inconspicuously peeked behind me, too. "Yeah, definitely desperate. And sad. Rhys said that lately he isn't himself. As if something was wrong with him? Maybe bothered him? But he won't talk about it."

Mor nodded. I had the urge to turn around and see for myself, but I resisted.

"What happened?" Mor asked and Feyre leaned closer, eager for details.

"Well, he kind of misunderstood the situation.. and I told him.. that I don't do the one night stay thing.."

"He actually went after you?" Mor beamed lowering her voice.

"Not really. I might have provoked him a bit," I reluctantly admitted.

They giggled like small girls, looking at each other.

"Y/N, believe me when I tell you that you can't provoke him," Mor whispered enthusiastically. "Nobody is able to break him. He is like.. granite."

"There must be something more behind it," Feyre added. "You should go and talk to him."

"You should," Mor agreed. "He looks to be on the verge of total breakdown." She again peeked behind me. "Go. Right. Now."

They both gave me nod, stood up and moved to another chat group. I stayed alone, just like Azriel who sat in an alcove with window behind me. I inhaled deeply, slowly breathing out. I could at least give it a try. Standing up I took my glass and walked to him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he answered lowly. I hardly heard him. His face was as unreadable as usually, but his impossibly beautiful hazel eyes.. Yeah, they were right. He looked to be on verge of breakdown. Even his posture was all wrong. Slumped shoulders, hunched over, wings hanging down. The shadows hoovered around him like embodiment of his current mood.

"Everything alright?"

He nodded looking away. Ouch. He didn't want to talk with me. I probably hurt his ego more than I thought. I was lost for words. Did he expect me to apologise? I certainly wouldn't do that. I had every right to stop him back then.

Oh, male and their ego. Suddenly memories of my ex flooded my mind. And I got mad. Rage was the only emotion that never disappeared completely nor healed.

I turned around, ready to leave before I could take it out on the wrong person. Strong fingers wrapped around my arm, stopping me. They held me gently, but firmly. I looked back at Azriel and all the rage was gone instantly.

"Would you mind to it down with me?"

I couldn't speak, still shocked by the pain in his eyes. Just when I was seated in the alcove, he released me and sat back down, too. Silence stretched between us.

"I meant to say this much sooner," he started slowly. "I'm so sorry for my poor behaviour. I'm so ashamed." My fingers curled into fist, but I didn't dare to interrupt him. "I know you were just joking to make me feel better, to relax. I knew it even back then. I wish I could explain why I did it, but I can't. I was.. dick."

And how big dick. I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself. This was serious situation. But in all seriousness, he broke the records. Nobody had bigger than him.

"I should have covered with towel as you asked me. I shouldn't have stopped you. I shouldn't have kissed you," he whispered the last sentence. "I should even be sorry that I kissed you, but I am not. I wanted it. Really wanted. Still want it. I'm trash." He stood up quickly. I managed to pull him back down before he could run away. My pulse skyrocketed.

Waitwaitwait. Had he just said that he still wanted to kiss me? My rational part demanded answers. I had to solve this question before my reckless heart could come to own conclusion. I didn't need another heartbreak.

I looked deep into his eyes. I looked only for truth and nothing else. "Tell me, Az, why? Why do you still want it?"

He blushed fiercely and tried to look away, but I wouldn't let him. "Please."

"I..love you," he whispered and my heart stopped for second only to start racing at a crazy pace later.

I wasn't sure he really said that. That must be just my imagination, right? I gazed at beautiful, elegant Elain with big doe eyes sitting on the other side of room, laughing with her sisters. Yeah, I imagined it. But when my eyes slid back to him, he was gazing right back, tensed, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I think I misheard," I smiled nervously.

"I said.. I love you," Azriel repeated quietly, but clearly.

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't think. I couldn't. I just surged forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a heartbeat and then his strong arms wrapped around me and held me firmly. Another tear followed the first one and then another, until it turned into an endless stream. I felt a cool touch of his shadows. They hid us from prying eyes. Or so I thought.

World tilted to the side and we were in my office where it all had started.

"More private," Azriel whispered when I released him to take a look around, confused.

I quickly wiped tears away. "Oh." I still wasn't ready to talk. My head was a total mess. Love. Azriel just told me he loved me. And he was still waiting for my answer. But I wasn't currently able to put the words together to make even a simple sentence.

"Do you need water?" he offered, helping me to sit to an armchair, the very same armchair where he.. Nope, I couldn't think about it now. It would be too much.

What was the question? Ah, water.. Did I need it? I nodded anyway and he handed me a glass. I emptied it immediately.

Azriel watched me carefully as if I could explode any second. I was trying to find something to ground me and my eyes fell to the notebook. "Wingspan," I blurted. His brows furrowed. "You have the largest wingspan."

He huffed in amusement. "Do I?" Azriel took a step back, his eyes were sad again.

Maybe I was crazy, but I reached out and pulled him down on me. "I believe I still haven't repaid for your help."

He shook his head. " You don't have to-"

"I want." I cupped his cheeks between my hands. He hesitated searching my face, his body tensed above me.

Azriel slowly leaned down and kissed me. It was nothing like the last kiss driven by lust and desire. This kiss was careful, exploring. I pushed against his shoulder and we exchanged our positions.

Just like the last time, Azriel was sitting in the armchair and I was above him. I made sure there was space between us. I didn't want to provoke him, sex was out of the question yet. He knew it, too, and kept his hands on my waist.

I deepened the kiss and soon enough we both turned into a panting mess. Azriel's moan startled me.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

I giggled. "You moaned back then, too."

"I can't help it," he smiled. Azriel leaned forward, keeping small space between us. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply again and again. "Touch them."

I swallowed. "What?"

"You can touch them," he spread his wings wide around us. "I've never allowed anybody to touch them. But now I want you to do so."

I was speechless second time today. Sacred Illyrian wings and he asked me to touch them. This was Illyrian way to say he trusted me. He trusted me even with his life.

I ran my fingers through his soft hair. "You know that.. there will be no sex today nor any time soon.." I hoped it came out as a joke. Truthful, but still joke.

He laughed breathlessly. "I know. That doesn't change the fact I want you to touch them. You said you want to repay me. So please.." He kissed the sensitive spot under my ear.

He got me there. If he only knew what he had called upon himself. I wanted to touch them, badly, but not only because they were his. I wanted it because I was the damn researcher which equals to a monster at times. I longed to feel the texture of the skin, to feel every single bone and muscle in them, everything.

"Are you really sure about this?" My attention was already trained on the beautiful enormous wings around me. This was his last chance to back out of this.

"Absolutely. So put those damn little hands of yours on them already," he rasped, landing another kiss to that sensitive spot.

He didn't need to repeat it again.

I gasped as tips of my fingers traced the soft skin around the bone. It. Was. Perfect. I expected them to be cold and rough to touch. Even though I touched him just lightly, I could feel every single muscle, even the smallest ones. The bone seemed to be so fragile and strong at the same time. Skin was so warm, stretchy and impossibly soft like baby's skin. I mapped every vein running through the membranes, his pulse drumming under my hands. I traced every scarred tissue I found, paying it extra attention.

I was so immersed into exploring his wings that I hadn't noticed what my curiosity did to Azriel until he came under me with a wall shattering roar. I winced, looking down at him.

His head was tilted back, eyes closed tightly. He was trembling and panting, his broad chest heaving heavily. Streams of sweat were running down the column of his exposed neck. His hands were fisting the material of armrests so tightly he almost torn it into shreds.

I couldn't believe I'd missed something so..amazing. Azriel was a piece of art in every possible meaning. My fingers traced the vein that bobbed out on his neck. He shuddered, his eyes slowly opened, looking up at me. Shadowsinger smiled weakly. "Only you can do this to me," his voice was hoarse.

I brushed away a damp strand of hair that fell to his forehead. My heart was beating wildly as I leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply. His hands embraced me, pulling me closer.

"I love you," I whispered to his mouth.

I wasn't scared anymore. In this very moment I was more confident than ever that I would spend the rest of my life with this perfect male. Because he was mine and I was his.

[macfrog]

la petite mort sex on fire chapter four

bonsoir my children. it's your cool slutty daddy, ceo!joel, back for round two of paris trip. please enjoy, i hope this one causes less confusion but just as much heart failure as last chapter. love u guys long time. literally SO much. 💘✨💓

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you spend your second day in paris being spoiled by joel, who buys you anything you set eyes on. you’ve a treat of your own in mind as a thank-you, later on

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) another fucking confusing flashback, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, more obscene spending, sexy french speaking, sugardaddy!joel, BIG flirting, alcohol consumption, sexy lingerie, lapdance, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected piv sex, titty appreciation, assplay, double penetration, dom!joel, softdom!joel, ripping of expensive lingerie (rip), overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!joel, angst, themes of abandonment, fluff in the end i'm a romantic at heart

word count: 6.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first. “Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.” “Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?” “No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

The late afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. The wind’s picked up, too. You’re standing on the terrace of your suite, elbows propped on the metal railing, watching the light slowly drain from the sky, and melt into tiny twinkling headlights on the roads below.

Paris stares straight back at you. Melancholy, in this light. A little faded, worn, a washed gray as she loses her fight with the slow-setting sun. Your eyes trace the skyline, jumping from buildings to streetlights, following birds in the distance as they loop and soar over the city. Free. Held down to nothing, and no one.

When you close your eyes, he’s on the couch beside you. Blue-eyed stare cloudy, eyes puffy and red with tears he’s doing everything to hold back. Calling you sweetheart, telling you we can work through this. He’s got your bare fingers in his, thumbs running across your knuckles, rubbing circles around the empty space on your third finger. You have an impulse to stand up and walk out. You think you might follow through with it.

You don’t even hear him come in, don’t hear him call your name. Only feel when his arm snakes around your waist and he turns you to face him. Your eyes flutter back open.

“Hey,” Joel says, leaning back to look you up and down. “Nice robe.”

His fingers toy with the belt, thumb running across the soft terrycloth.

“You smell like whiskey,” you mutter, hands resting on his chest. You take a deep breath, pushing the relief you feel now that he’s back, down to the pit of your stomach. And then you finally look him in the eye. “How was Jean-Marc?”

Joel shrugs. “Same as usual. Wants to meet you.”

“You mentioned me?”

He bypasses your question. “Said I’d check with you, but he wants to have us for breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

Joel grumbles, his lips tighten, and he looks out over the view behind you. You tilt your head and his hands take yours, dropping them to your side. His eyes fall low, past the tie he was just messing with.

“You gettin’ ready to go?”

“I was about to, yeah,” you reply, breathing a laugh when he starts to kneel in front of you. “Joel.”

“Mhm?” he asks, but he’s not listening, is he? His hands run up your legs, starting at your knees, and push the edges of your robe apart the higher they go.

“We – gotta – Joel,” you sigh, head rolling back, hands gripping the railing.

Joel’s lips part on your inner thigh, his tongue runs along your skin, trailing northward. His hands precede, pushing under your robe now to cup your naked ass, when he lifts his chin and glances up.

“Nothin’ on under it, baby,” he whispers, tsking. “’m I gonna do with you?”

“We have–” you shudder when his fingers move between your legs, “–to go get ready.”

“So go.”

Fucker.

You lean back against the glass, eyes quickly scanning the hotel in front of you, searching the neighboring windows for any prying eyes, but in the slow-moving blanket of dusk, mixed with your will to care quickly depleting, you find none.

Your attention draws back to Joel, whose lips run dangerously close to your center.

“Open, baby,” he says, and you don’t think about it. Your body just does what he tells it to.

Your legs fall open, head lulls to one side, fingers move through his hair. His jaw lowers, breath gently tickling your soft skin, and then his lips cup around your mound.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which quickly morphs into a moan, open-mouthed and broken, when Joel’s tongue sweeps over your clit.

“There,” you whisper, a little more serious than you intended, “do that – again.”

He obeys, wet tongue licking you again while his hands pull your thighs over his shoulders. Your weight shifts onto his body, back arching as he sucks on the sensitive bud.

Your hips roll, needing him a little more and a little further south. And he hears you, again. He takes a hand off of your leg, middle and ring fingers joining together to push up between your folds and inside you, dragging a whine from your lips.

“Yeah,” you moan, feeling yourself driving into his mouth and fucking yourself on his hand at the same time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbles, mouth preoccupied.

Your head falls back, body slung over the balcony, thighs spreading ever so slightly to have more of him on more of you. And then your head starts to dizzy, your body hums in pleasure, your cunt starts to throb.

But before it goes any further, he’s pulling away.

His lips leave first. Then he draws his hand from between you, sucks his fingers clean and stands. Is he fucking –

“– serious?” you ask, jolting back to life.

He smirks, tongue pushing around his cheeks. “Hurry up ‘n get ready. I wanna go down to the bar for a drink before the car comes.”

And then he’s turning on his heel, striding back inside.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” he calls over his shoulder.

Your hands hit your thighs with a slap. “Fucking…sadist,” you hiss after him, following him into the warmly lit living room of your suite and down the hallway to the bedroom. Trying to ignore the ache between your legs which only grows worse the more you move.

“I’ll take good care of you later, angel.”

He sits back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, nods toward the black dress you’d laid out on the mattress an hour ago.

“Go on.”

“Go on what?”

“Show me the dress I paid three grand for on you, instead of it laying on the fuckin’ bed.”

You roll your eyes and storm by him, grabbing the black fabric, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“’n don’t you think about finishin’ yourself!” Joel calls through the door.

“Fuck you!” you throw back, hearing his cocky laugh echo around the room.

You untie your robe in front of the mirror, letting it drop off of your shoulders into a pool of white cloth at your feet. Your eyes flit down your naked body – scanning from your shoulders over your breasts, around your tummy and down your thighs. You slip the black material over your head – a little stretch in it, just enough to mold around your body – and tug it down until it sits comfortably on your thighs.

The smooth skirt sits perfectly on your hips, curving around your ass and pulling in at your waist. You adjust the thin straps, fixing your breasts into place above a cut-out, just revealing enough. Backless, of course, straps crisscrossing over your skin.

It's skimpy, and it’s sexy, and it’s enough to make you look expensive as fuck and also make Joel want to rip it off of you the second you two make it back to the suite.

Enough to make him want to rip it off you before you’ve even left the suite, going by his reaction when you step out of the bathroom. He catches you in the mirror whilst he buttons his shirt, and turns, mouth falling open, eyes dancing all across your body.

You wordlessly sit, slip your feet into the heels you’d chosen, and fish the diamond-encrusted jewelry Joel had bought you from its box – pull the necklace around your neck, clip the earrings into place, and push the bracelets over your wrist. Then, you sling your jacket over your arm, and stand.

“I’m ready.”

“You…” His eyes scan down you again, settling on your chest for a couple seconds. “Yeah, baby. Give me five minutes.”

----------

The hotel bar reflects perfectly the intimidating grandeur of your suite, despite being a small room. It’s intimate, and pleasant, lit in a warm glow, and as you stroll in on Joel’s arm beneath a huge, ornate chandelier, you feel a smile pull across your lips. You’re not fucking sure why.

He leads you over to two heavy leather stools, pulling one out and waiting for you to hop up on it before he sits beside you. He orders two glasses of red wine, and the waiter craftily pours a small drop into one glass, setting it down in front of you and waiting for you to take a sip and approve before he pours the rest.

“Pétrus,” the waiter says, focusing intently on filling Joel’s glass. “Most expensive wine in France.”

You shoot Joel a look, but he’s already lifting his glass, glint in his eye. You hesitantly pick yours up and bump it into his, taking another sip.

“Good?” Joel asks, licking his lips.

You nod. “A little too good.”

He laughs. Then he nods at the waiter, who smiles, turns to you, and winks.

You smile back, a little embarrassed. “Merci beaucoup.”

As the waiter leaves you both, Joel turns, a look on his face you’ve never seen before. “Nice accent,” he says.

You scoff. “I hope it’s a nice accent, I studied it for six years.”

“Studied French?”

You nod.

“When?”

“High school, and then all through college.”

“How did I not know that about you?”

“It’s on my resume,” you say into your wine glass, “which I now know you didn’t read when you hired me.”

“Didn’t have to,” Joel replies. “I took one look at your pretty face ‘n decided you had the job.”

Him and his quick fucking wit. He almost catches you blushing, but you save it by shaking your head, and looking at the striped-wall room around you. There’s a framed picture of a horse on the wall behind Joel. Two men sit in animated conversation on the velvet couch below it, one of them clutching a wine that’s about to spill over.

When your eyes drift back to Joel, his are fixated elsewhere.

“Oh, be less obvious, Joel,” you mutter, corners of your mouth twitching.

“Can’t help it,” he finally draws his gaze from your chest, “they look so good. That dress is…” He shakes his head.

“You chose well.”

“Say somethin’ French to me.”

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yeah. Tell me I chose well in French.”

“Tell me how the meeting went.”

Joel sits back, pushing air out of his cheeks. “Can’t do that.”

“Then no French.”

“Baby, c’mon. Just for me.”

You shake your head, pouting your lip. “Nope.”

Joel pleads a few more times, promises he’ll buy you more things, promises he’ll order more wine, even promises he’ll fuck you in the bathroom right now if you’ll just say one sentence in French to him.

You don’t relent.

Not until you’re a couple more wines deep, leaning into one another, your knees between his, pointing out other guests in the room and conjuring make-believe backstories for them.

“That one,” you say, hushed, shoulder brushing off of Joel’s, “in the corner, by the lamp. He’s waitin’ for a date, a Tinder date, who–”

Joel snorts. “A Tinder date?”

“–a Tinder date, who used photos of Cindy Crawford on her profile.”

Joel’s head tips back with laughter, his hand steadies himself on the bar. “If Cindy Crawford ends up walkin’ in here, you’re gonna be real sorry.”

You lean into his shirt, giggling into the cotton. When you lift your head, the two of you quietening again, you look into his eyes.

Blurry around the edges, a little too much wine in your system, you whisper: “Kiss me.”

Joel’s head cocks. He leans in, and you lift your jaw. His lips part, breath hot over your red lips, and he says, “You’re gonna get us into trouble, darlin’.”

“Je m’en fous,” you reply.

“Monsieur,” a voice from your right breaks between you, “your car is outside.”

Joel straightens up, clears his throat, and thanks the waiter with another nod. His palm runs along the bar toward your arm, which he takes, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, and he nods again toward the doors.

----------

Dinner was as fucking extreme as all of this has been. Food you’d never seen before, a menu you could barely translate even with language experience. Waiters who arrived at your table if you so much as looked up at them.

And more wine. A lot more wine.

You both stumble back into the suite, arms linked, laughter chorusing against the beige walls. Joel keeps a vice grip on your hand as you spin around him, wrapping you up in his arms when you’re close enough, and runs a thumb across your cheek when you’ve stopped giggling.

“That was fun,” he says, and you nod.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For all of it. I don’t even know what to say.”

He shakes his head in response. “You’re my guest.”

“Didn’t have to be,” you say, “could’ve brought Martha.”

“Oh, yeah, Martha. She’d be a fuckin’ hoot.”

He lets go of you, your laughter picking back up, and you split off. Joel wanders over to the minibar, and you…you wander off down the hall.

You’ve something in mind.

Safely in the bedroom, you slink over to your case and lift the bag you’d hidden in there earlier. You sneak into the bathroom, closing the door as softly as possible, and whip your little black dress over your head. You turn back to the mirror.

Same reflection as before. Same naked body. A little faded, a little unfocused, jewelry catching the light like stars in the night sky, but the same.

You reach into the white bag, like it’s a lucky draw, and lift out the soft black lace. One by one, you add each little piece – the bra cups your breasts, lifting them just the right amount. The panties sit on your hips, garter belt just above, hooked onto thigh-high, lace top stockings. And finally, the robe.

You tie it loosely at your waist, leaving it just open enough to reveal the balconette bra underneath. One last hazy look in the mirror, and you tumble back out into the bedroom and over to the door.

Your fingers clutch the gold handle, shaking a little. The cold metal bites against your skin, hot with adrenaline and determination. You twist, pulling gently on the door, and wander back to the living room.

The lights are still out, the room dark against the sparkling cityscape. There’s soft music playing, some seventies soul stuff. He’s on the balcony. The sliding doors open wide, sheer curtains swaying gently in the night breeze. His silhouette stands black against the glittering Eiffel Tower in front of him. He’s holding a whiskey.

You slip out from behind the door and let it close over gently, walking slowly across the soft carpet toward him. He can’t have heard you, you’re being too quiet, but he turns anyway, and spots you in the middle of the room.

His eyes rake down your figure, mouth falling agape. Whiskey almost spilling over from how limp his arms fall.

“Baby…” he whispers.

You take another step forward. So does Joel. Your hand reaches for the back of one of the chairs, tucked neatly under the dining table. You drag it along the carpet, setting it just in front of you, facing him, and stand back.

“Want you to sit.”

Joel nods, a voiceless Okay sneaks past his lips, and he sits back in the chair, placing the whiskey at his feet.

The song fades into a steady love song, string orchestra echoing in the background, slow, sultry. The smooth vocals fill the room, quiet and relaxing, and push you nearer him, rounding the back of the chair.

Your hands run over Joel’s shoulders as you curve around to face him, and slot in between his parted thighs. Watching as his eyes shift up and down your figure. Watching as his breath hitches, his chest shuddering anytime you move.

You’re ignoring the rise and fall of your own chest; nerves and desire and complete fucking disbelief at what you’re doing all fighting to break through. Your stomach is flipping, pulse jerking every time your eyes cross paths with Joel’s.

You nudge his legs open wider, lift his wrists, and place his hands on your waist. His fingers pull on the silk belt, loosening your robe until he’s slipping it over your shoulders, revealing every inch of lace and strap of satin to his lust-blown eyes.

“This all for me?” he asks, fucking…wonderstruck. His fingers dance along the garter belt, dipping where it clips onto your stockings.

You cock your head in a shrug. “You paid for it.”

He smiles. As if it’s Christmas and you just gave him the gift at the top of his wish list. And then you bend your knees, lowering between his thighs and dragging your hands down his front, stopping by his stiffening crotch as you go.

Joel hisses through clenched teeth, spurring you on. You palm him through his trousers, never touching his zipper, only letting him go so far as grinding his hips into your hands, before your palms slip down to his knees and you push yourself up.

Joel meets you halfway, leans forward to let your lips ghost across his. Your back arched, knees digging into the plush carpet, you trail your tongue from his chin down his bearded jawline, stopping when you reach the collar of his shirt.

And then you stand again, taking his hands and replacing them on your body. Anywhere on your fucking body. Feeling him on you is like feeling the soothing flicker of the fire after a walk in the freezing cold, and when his palms aren’t pressing against your ribcage, his fingers aren’t running between your thighs, that bitter cold bites back.

Joel hums, still taking you in through glassy eyes. “So…fuckin’ beautiful, babygirl.”

In response, you lift your knees, placing them one by one on either side of his hips. You settle against his body and push him back in the chair.

Your clothed heat lowers onto his waist, lace running across the rough fabric of his trousers, forcing a choked moan from your lips at the contact. Your skin alight, nerves burning with excitement and arousal, the slightest touch only fuels the fire more.

You grind down on him, hips rocking in time with the music. Letting his hands hold you around your back, letting him feel any part of you he fucking wants. His fingers knead roughly into your round ass, and he bucks up against your core.

You hover over him, running a hand from your stomach over your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits through your bra. And then back down again, to slip over the lace of your panties and relieve the tension there even if only for a second before you’re feeling down your thighs.

You link your arms back around Joel’s shoulders. “You gonna pay me back?” you whisper, head lowering to bury into his neck.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he slurs back.

You suck a mark into the hot skin, breathing against his pulse, “Think you do, daddy. You owe me one.”

His head rolls, bass of his laughter vibrating against your lips. “So fuckin’ slutty, darlin’. You want it that bad?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, lips still tight against his neck, fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt lower and lower.

Joel told Martha he needed you here only to keep him right. Make sure he got everywhere on time, make sure things ran smoothly. Drop off drycleaning, pick it up before he had appearances. Get him pastries from that patisserie he loves around the corner for breakfast. There’s an empty suite downstairs that he made her book for you – an almost three grand per night suite that you both knew the entire fucking time you’d never set foot in. All to keep up with the story.

The story that you’re here strictly on PA duty. Seeing him off in cars, making sure he gets back to the hotel at night. And that’s it. Not buying lingerie with his card, and putting it on for him, and mounting him in the living room of his suite. Not letting him slip your panties to the side and run his cock through your folds, balcony doors wide open, moans escaping out into the late Parisian night.

But now his hands are on you, really on you; strong, wide hands, slipping around your waist, pressing down on the lace of your lingerie, massaging the softest parts of your body and scooping under your ass to align you to his length.

And you’re letting him.

Your hands are sifting through his hair as he breathes you in, his nose buried between your breasts. Your back arches when he finally enters you, giving you what you need most in the form of his thick cock pushing up into your warm cunt.

Like there’s nothing new, or weird, or different. Like this is all you know how to do; all you’ve ever known about him. You’re not in the office; he’s not your boss. He doesn’t tell you to shred files or organize his schedule.

This is what he does. This. He asks things of you with his hands and you fold every time. He runs his lips along the curve of your breasts and peels the delicate fabric of your bra down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, flick his tongue across it until your head rolls back and you’re moaning his name to the ceiling.

“Make yourself cum, baby,” Joel breathes against your hot skin.

His tongue is swirling around your nipple. Teeth grazing the pointed bud. He’s grinning to himself as he does it. He’s fucking lapping this up.

“So pretty when you’re wrapped around me.”

And then his fingers are toying with the clasp of your bra, and as you sink down over and over on his cock, he lets the cupped lace fall to the floor, lips instantly returning to their place on your tits.

You hold his head there, looking down and watching while you slowly bounce on his cock as he kisses, caresses, sucks.

The pleasure boiling between your legs starts to spill over, your body unable to take much more without releasing. And when Joel mumbles against your skin, “Can feel you, darlin’, squeezing me so tight,” you let go.

Your orgasm, nearly four hours in the making, rocks through your body in tidal waves, throwing your head back. Joel’s arms keep you safe on his lap as you writhe, gasping and moaning his name until you can think straight again.

When you come back to, he lifts you up. Carries you like you’re made of diamonds through to the bedroom and lays you down on the soft mattress, calling you angel, telling you you’re the prettiest fuckin’ girl he’s ever seen.

He dips his fingers and traces them along your panties, feeling the mess you just made, humming in amusement. He asks again if this is all for him and when you moan out a desperate Yeah, daddy, he tells you he’s gonna make you cum again.

He takes your waist and flips you over, propping you up on your knees in front of him. He peels the white shirt from his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the dark room, and asks if that’s what you want – to cum again. Yeah, daddy.

And when he asks who this tight little pussy belongs to, leaning forward to align with your wet mess of a cunt, your thighs spreading to accommodate the size of him, every fucking nerve in your body on fire: You, daddy.

“All mine?” he asks, pushing inside. He’s going slow. He’s making you answer him first.

“Y-yeah,” you whine, head falling forward into the bedsheets. “All – yours.”

“Spoiled, ain’t I? Such a pretty little pussy all to myself. You sure you don’t wanna share with anyone?”

“No, daddy. Just – want – you.”

Every fucking time. Every mindless, depraved time, you do it for him. Only for him.

You cum again on his cock before he’s even five thrusts in. His words send you hurtling over the edge by themselves; the massive dick burying itself between your legs is just a bonus – and something to let your walls clamp around when your back arches, chest pushes into the mattress, and your orgasm floods over you.

Joel rocks his hips slowly as you come down, cunt swollen and almost agony. His hands run from your thighs up around the globe of your ass, massaging gently. You push back, wanting more pressure from his hands, and his fingers slip against your tight hole.

You jut forward with a moan. A moan Joel knows all too well.

“Easy, easy.” He holds you steady, replacing his fingers against your asshole, pressing delicately. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “mhm.”

“Yeah?”

You’re nodding, though you know he can’t see you in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. Desperate. Depraved.

He lifts his hand and spits; you feel a bead of saliva dribble down your ass, only to be collected by the pads of his fingertips and dragged back up. Smeared over the ring of your ass, massaged into the sensitive skin around it.

“Daddy…” you moan, hips gyrating.

“’s a good girl,” Joel replies, “just relax, darlin’, you do that for me?”

You can hear in his voice he’s focusing. Eyes glued on your ass, watching as you open up around his first finger, pushing slowly inside.

Your whole body freezes as he enters you. Breath cuts short in your throat. Your mouth falls open, throat constricted around a moan.

“Breathe, babygirl.”

And you do. Well, it’s more of a gasp, a broken whine, and then a long, needy sigh, curled up at the end like it’s a request – a plea for Joel to keep going.

It’s tight. It feels…tender, and overwhelming, and good. More than good. Your hips move backward, pushing onto Joel; a swelling feeling overcoming you, the more of him you take.

“Good girl…” he whispers again.

You’re as fucking shocked as he is that you’re letting him do it – letting him slip inside both holes at once, exploring one while keeping the other content with lazy thrusts.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you tell him, body urging him to fuck you again.

So, he does. His cock picks up speed, finger knuckle-deep, curling around inside your ass. You’re gripping the bedsheets, whimpering softly into them, feeling your stomach tighten as your third orgasm begins to rise.

“Keep – doing – that,” you utter as his hips collide with yours, his thick finger picking up pace ever so slightly.

“Such a dirty girl. So fuckin’ dirty for me. You do this for all of ‘em, baby?”

The laugh you breathe answers his question. No, you don’t fucking do this – for anyone. You didn’t know until five minutes ago this was something you were into. It’s Joel. He’s the only one who could convince you – whether through his words, his expressions, or just his fucking body – to –

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Know you are, pretty girl,” Joel says, “let me feel you. Cum all over me.”

Your body collapses when your high takes over. Electricity thrumming through you, contracting around Joel’s cock and his finger. He coos you through it, whispers words of praise and filth in your ear until you’re no longer screaming, no longer able to hold yourself up.

He slowly removes his finger, soaked with his spit. You whine as it leaves you, missing the feeling, but it’s not long before his hands are on you again, flipping you back over.

He drags the clothes from his legs and pushes you up the mattress, slotting between your hips, one hand coming down to grip the lace front of your panties. He rips it, tearing the material off of your body in one motion.

You gasp, equal parts aroused as you are fucking outraged. You liked those panties. You wanted to keep ‘em.

“Fuck, Joel!”

He pushes back against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to dot kisses along your skin.

“Buy you more, baby.”

“This whole getup,” you moan, “it cost you a grand.”

He lifts his head. “Well, in that case,” he kisses your collarbone, “buy you ten more.”

Your eyes roll back and your head follows, sinking deep into the sheets under your body. You’re sure you know where this is going, what he’s about to ask of you. You’re not sure you can give it to him. Three orgasms deep, you can barely feel when he’s massaging your sex, never mind lining his cock to it and pushing the tip inside.

“One more, angel,” he utters, looking down to guide himself through your glistening folds. “Just one more.”

“Can’t, daddy,” you whimper, but he pushes your thighs up, bending your knees. It’s borderline painful, the stretch you feel when he’s barely an inch inside.

“Yes, you can. Know you can.”

He could fuck you and cum himself without asking you to – and you’d be okay with it. You know it. He knows it. Just a few tight, wet thrusts and he’d be coming undone inside you. But he wants to do it together. Loves the way you feel when you tighten around him, squeeze him, draw his release out of him. Loves the way your voices sound together, the way you grip onto him and pull him flush against your body.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, too. The way he looks when he’s deep inside you, eyes shut, focused on nothing except the pretty noises you make and the sweet way you wrap around him, warm and snug. So you let him take you to the edge again, throw your arms around him, and fall.

Hard.

The shock of it surges through you, stars burst across your vision. You drive your nails into his shoulders, scream out into the night, moans mixed with curses and gasps and – fuck it – cries of daddy loud enough that the thought of a noise complaint at your door floats through your mind.

Joel lets out a deep groan when he cums, filling your tight cunt with his seed, face still buried in your neck. Your legs untense, thighs slip down his waist and onto the bed, your arms unlink from around his neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your skin.

You’re panting, chest lifting against Joel’s. He pushes into the mattress and rolls off of you, dropping in a heap to the bed at your side. You lay like that for a while, waiting for the fluttering feeling to subside, waiting for any feeling to come back to your body.

Joel pushes off of the bed and dips into the bathroom, still groaning anytime he moves. Water runs for a couple minutes, a gentle whirring as he cools his face and washes up, and then he’s back in the bedroom, sinking into the bed beside you.

He props himself up on his elbow and runs a hand across your damp forehead, unsticking your hair from your face. Intimate, vulnerable. You’ve slept together four times now, and this is the closest you’ve felt to him.

You push down an ache, different to the one he just satisfied – four times over. No, this is deeper. Somewhere more hidden. An ache for him to hold you, run his hands down your back until your body feels like yours again. An ache for him to take you in his strong arms and keep you still, keep you steady.

An ache that feels…dangerous. An ache you want to disappear. Now.

“You okay?” Joel asks, and you nod.

He studies you for a while, looking up and down your body, smiling to himself. This isn’t something either of you are going to forget for a while.

“What’s this?”

Joel takes gentle hold of the gold chain around your sweat-glistening neck, running it between his fingers until he’s holding one half of a broken heart.

“Notice you wearin’ it all the time.”

You take a deep breath before replying, watching as he looks at it intently in his hand. “My mom has the other half. It makes up a heart. We got ‘em when I was sixteen, right after…”

Joel’s eyes drift up to yours when your sentence crumbles. His soft gaze encourages you to continue.

“…right after my dad left.”

He almost winces.

You’d always hated Wednesdays. Wednesdays meant Math, and Math meant two hours of sitting in total confusion, dodging your teacher’s requests for answers and counting down the minutes until class ended.

But your dad told you that you should do well in it, so you were trying. For him.

One Wednesday, Miss Pepperman handed out the results of the previous week’s test. You’d scored well, maybe not as good as some of the others, but decent by your own standards. You snuck the test paper into your bag to take back home, show your dad. Make him…proud.

When you rounded the corner to your street, his car was in the drive, trunk wide open. Suitcases inside. You caught him leaving as you wandered by the beat-up Toyota.

Your mom wants you in the house, he’d said, a cardboard box of files in his clutches.

You tried to ask what the fuck was going on, but he’d yelled at you and thrown the box into his back seat. And then you brought up the test paper, twisted around to fish it out of your bag, like some stupid C would convince him to stay. He yelled louder, and you disappeared inside like a spooked cat.

Your mom was on the couch, face in her hands. She lifted her head, cheeks stained with mascara and tears. As you sat down beside her, you heard the engine of his car roll away. You never saw him again.

You don’t tell Joel all of this. He doesn’t need to know, and he doesn’t ask. Telling him about the C in Math risks telling him about the way your dad looked at you when you held up the crumpled paper, and that risks telling him about everything you’ve ever held back from saying to anyone, for fear of seeing that same bored, disappointed expression.

It feels like a hand you’re not quite ready to play just yet. An ace or two missing, only a couple of cards off of feeling confident enough to show him.

Instead, you shrug, and say, “That was…thirteen years ago now. And we just never take ‘em off. It’s like our little promise to, like…stay together, or whatever.”

He nods, letting the necklace rest back on your naked chest.

There’s something in the air between you. Quiet, unassuming. An understanding, though you’re not sure what of. But it feels comfortable, which you weren’t expecting when he asked the question. Nobody knows much about you and your dad – not even your closest friends. And here you are, naked and exhausted, letting the words tumble out to none other than your boss.

But he’s so blasé about it, so unperturbed by it that, if he hadn’t been the one to ask himself, you could mistake it for disinterest. He just listens, nods, and lets it pass over. Lets you drop it, when you’re done talking about it.

For the second time tonight, this time a little more sober but a little less guarded, you say, “Kiss me.”

And this time, he doesn’t ask you to speak French. Doesn’t make any witty quip, doesn’t warn you you’re walking dangerous territory. Doesn’t even hesitate, not for a beat. Just leans in, cups your cheek with one hand, and presses his lips to yours.

Warm, sweaty, almost quivering lips. Soft, and kind, and safe. You melt into him, wrapping both hands around his wrist, shutting your eyes and pretending just for a moment that you’re not teetering along a knife edge right now.

You pull back, losing your balance on the tightrope you’re walking, and Joel’s hand slowly drops from your face. His eyes ask if you’re okay, and you nod. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up with a sigh. “You want a drink?”

You nod again. “Water, please.”

He strokes your thigh once and walks out of the room, leaving you in the quiet dark by yourself.

You bring your fingertips up to your eyes. Exhale deeply into the palms of your hands. Think about what just happened, and then tell yourself not to think much about it. Think about that fucking twinge in the bottom of your stomach, the one that felt like…yearning. And then tell yourself, fucking – order yourself not to read too much into it, or you’ll drive yourself up the wall.

Because the truth of it is: you’ve one more full day in Paris, and you highly suspect that what happened here tonight, is gonna happen all over again tomorrow. And that leaves room for that yearning feeling to come back. Resurface, like a silent predator in murky waters.

That won’t happen tomorrow. It can’t happen tomorrow.

You stand and throw that white terrycloth robe over yourself, heading for the living room.

----------

taglist:

@serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @noisynightmarepoetry @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @kittenlittle24 @suzmagine @adaslittleblog @bbyanarchist @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @totallynotastanacc @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana

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[bigenergy777]

Steamy~ Liam Dunbar

WARRING~ Cursing, Shower sex, Unprotected sex.

Hello, I hope this isn't too bad. This is my first time writing smut, and I hope you like it. If you have any tips, I'd gladly take them.

After washing your body, you closed your eyes for a moment. Only opening them when your shower curtain was yanked open.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you saw, which was a bottle of shampoo.

“Ow, you could have knocked my eyes out.” Is the first thing you hear before finally seeing that familiar blonde hair that you're used to running your hands through every night.

"Liam!" you groaned. "I told you to stop doing that! You can't just break into my house like you're going to murder me!"

"I'm sorry, I should have called.” He smiled sheepishly, standing naked in front of you.

"No shit," you muttered, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Can I get in?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Go ahead. You're already naked. You would have gotten in anyway." You giggled at him. "That doesn't mean I'll entertain you, though."

You tried your best to keep your face and your eyeline straight as Liam got in.

He was behind you, and you could feel him pressing up against your body as he softly kissed your neck. sending a shiver down your spine. 

"I missed you," he smirked, hearing your breath hitch.

"Well, I didn’t miss you.” You say you are trying to keep a straight face.

"Ouch, you wound me," he chuckled, placing a hand on his heart. Taking his hand, he starts tickling you. “Stop, Stop.” You squirm in his arms.

“Take it back. Tell me you missed me, and I’m the most amazing boyfriend in the world.” He continued tickling you.

"No, never,” you giggle. trying to get his arms off of you.

“Not until you say it, say it.” He held onto you tighter.”

“Okay, okay, I missed you, and you're the most amazing, sexiest boyfriend in the world." You giggle.

 "See, that wasn’t so hard, baby.” He smiled, turning me around and looking down at you. "Yes, it was horrible.” You giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled against your lips, pulling me in closer by the waist.

“I love you too, Liam.” You smile, lifting up on your tippy toes and kissing him.

Liam’s groans kissing you hungryly and eagerly. trailing his hands up and down your body, making little moans fall out of your mouth.

Separating his mouth from yours, Liam starts trailing kisses from your lips to your cheek, down your neck, and towards that sweet spot behind your ear. 

“Liam, please.” You moan, fisting his hair, not knowing what you want but needing something, anything.

“Patience, baby patience.” Liam smirked, getting on his knees and trailing kisses down your body.

He was on his knees, looking up at you with his gorgeous, sparkling blue eyes. It was probably the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on," he grinned, kissing all over your body and skipping the spot where you needed him most.

"Please,” you whine, closing your eyes.

“Please what?” He smirked, nibbling on your inner thighs.

“Please, touch me; please, I need it so bad.” You begged, gripping the back of his head, trying to push him to where you needed him most. "Well, since you asked so nicely, how could I say no?"

He smirked. His hands grabbed your ass, and his face was just beneath you. You gasped as he pressed tiny kisses directly on your clit. holding onto a fistful of his hair. He went straight for your clit, sucking aggressively as you pulled on his hair.

"Oh, that feels so good, baby, so so good," you gasped. Liam sucked on your clit, like he was starving and you were his meal, roughly parting your legs a bit as he did.

You could feel his fingers teasing you. He slipped a long finger in, making you gasp slightly.

You felt him ducking beneath you, trying to push you over him completely. His finger hooked upwards,toying with your G-spot expertly. He rubbed at it almost professionally.

You could barely keep it together at this point. Making more room for himself, he slipped another one in, which felt like ecstasy.

He growled furiously as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and finger-fucking you faster, sloping in a third finger. His fingers are amazing, and he knows all the right places. You could hear him chuckling to himself. Cocky little shit.

And still, you could tell he was even getting off on it. He loved pleasuring you, especially when he got to watch you completely fall apart on his tongue.

Lifting his head, he replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing fast circles on your clit and fingering you harder. making you shout.

"Yeah, you like that, baby, huh? Am I making you feel good?” He asked with a smirk, watching different expressions flash across your face.

“Stop, stop.” You moan, trying to push his head away.

"What? can't take it, baby." He chuckled 

“No more, take your fingers out, fuck me, please fuck me.” You begged, pulling his hair.

“All you had to do was ask.” He chuckled, removing his fingers, pressing one last kiss on your clit, making you whine, and then got off his knees, standing up.

Once he’s stood up, you grab the back of his neck, pulling him down and smashing your lips together. 

Grabbing the back of your legs, he lifts you up, shoving himself all the way in without warning. 

You moaned almost pornographically, digging your nails into his flesh as he thrust aggressively.

He growled quietly in your ear as he aggressively kissed all over your neck. His thrusts were loud, banging you against the wall over and over again. But you didn't care. Hell, you couldn't even feel the pain.

All you could feel was the pleasure that he brought to you, banging you against the bathroom wall as he cupped your ass, nibbling his teeth against your soft skin, and your nails dug into his back, drawing blood from how hard you were clinging on to him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he was groaning out your name.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good, baby.” He groaned, shoving his head into your neck. 

"Oh, Liam, yes, Liam." You moaned

"Yeah, you like that, baby. God, you're so tight.” He groaned, sucking bruises into your neck and collarbone.

You moaned as he fucked and kissed you, putting equal amounts of energy into both. 

With even more aggressive thrusts into the wall, he twitched inside of you, and your breath hitched in pleasure. 

"You make me feel so good, such a good girl. Huh, your daddy's a good girl, aren’t you, baby?” He moaned in your ear.

"Yes, I’m a good girl. I’m your good girl, Daddy." I’m going to cum. Can I come, please, Daddy? I need to so badly." You whine, pulling his hair, earning a grunt in return.

“Come on, baby, I can feel it. Cum for Daddy." He moans, reaching down towards your clit and rubbing fast circles on it while sucking on your nipples.

Both of you moaned as you came together.

You sighed, throwing your head back, exhausted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, still holding you up against the wall as if you weighed nothing.

"God, I love you.” He said he was pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you too.” You giggle, squirming in his arms.

Sinking to his knees, he held you up against the wall. He parted your legs, grinning eagerly. "Round two."

"Ugh, you have the best mouth, and I hate it," you admitted. "I don't know. I think you love it." He smirked, shoving his face back in between your legs, leaving you breathless.

[braxlrose]

request: bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader hcs😌 I mean, she knows she's hurting herself but she doesn't care? doesn't sleep (and even if she does, she goes to bed very late and then gets up very late, so she's usually restless, tired and barely alive/ barely in touch with reality), barely eats (and even if she eats little , I drink too much energy drinks and takes tranquilizer pills), probably does sh and takes drugs (cigarettes, alcohol and drugs) and it all makes her look practically zombie but she likes this lifestyle?

cw: self harm, alcoholic tendencies, drugs, slight ED, toxic relationship, tons of angst, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD.

bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader

• when you two first met, it was at a party and you guys ended up sleeping together that night. you fell asleep right after so he ended up staying the night at your hotel room.

• when you woke up in the morning, you brushed your teeth and then went over to your drawer to get on new clothes when you felt hands on your hips.

• you turned around to see bill smiling at you. "Sooo, how long do I have to wait before I can ask you out on a date, hmm?" you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

• "Uhmm, never? You don't wanna have to deal with my shit." you said as you pulled your jeans up.

• "Oh come on, everybody has shit."

• "Not like me. So, you should just go." you pulled on your shirt and turned back to him. He was just staring at you, smiling for God-knows-what. you had to admit, he looked amazing. he only had his boxers on, and he looked great shirtless.

• "I'll get you one day, y/n y/l/n." he smiled at you and pulled on his clothes. you rolled your eyes as he kissed you on the forehead and left.

• then you two met again at a music festival and that's when you finally decides to give him a chance after the hours of flirting he spent on you. you weren't scared though, you were sure he'd leave after he saw what you were really like. and you had accepted that.

That was a couple weeks ago. Bill became very aware of the "shit" you were talking about pretty quickly.

• whenever you were at a party with bill you'd always drink too much to the point where you couldn't see straight and your head was pounding like no tomorrow. Bill would take you back to your hotel room and lay you down on your bed and tuck you in. Then he'd sit with you until you finally fell asleep since he knew you'd just stay awake if he didnt.

• one night, you were completely wasted and he had to carry you back to your hotel. again.

"Mmm... Billy I want you soooo bad. pretty pleaaaasee?" you whispered in his ear, giggling and pouting as he unlocked your door and dragged you inside.

"You're drunk. That's not happening, okay?" He said, setting you down on your bed and beginning to wipe your makeup off.

"But Billy..." You'd whine and pout, while he'd just sit there and comb through your hair till you fell fast asleep.

"Goodnight, Schatzi." He'd whisper to you and place a kiss on your forehead.

• you'd also get angry a lot. you were in your hotel room, bawling your eyes out on the bathroom floor. It was 11 PM. your wrists were bleeding a bit from you scratching at them for so long, and your cheeks were bright red from the crying.

• you just wanted to sit there forever and wallow in your own self pity when you heard the door to your hotel open.

"Y/n! You in here?" Bill yelled to you, as you did your best to stand up and wipe your tears away. You gazed at your eyes in the mirror and there were streaks of mascara running down your face. You wiped them off your cheeks and opened the bathroom door to greet him.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" He turned around to see you but you saw his face drop.

"Are you okay? Were you crying in there?" He pointed to the bathroom. You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. You pushed the inner part of your arms against yourself so he didn't notice.

"What? God no, I'm just tired. You should probably go." You said as you walked past him and started to change your clothes. He walked over to you and slightly grabbed your chin with his hand. He tilted his head at you and ran his fingers through your hair.

"Come on, just tell me what's wrong." You slapped his hand away and pulled on some shorts.

"I said I'm just fucking tired! Will you back the fuck off?!" You pushed him away and went to grab a new shirt to sleep him. He was bringing up emotions you didn't want to feel. You wiped away a couple tears when you felt his arms wrap around you. He placed some kisses on your shoulders and rubbed his cheek against you.

"I'm here for you, okay? Let me help you.." You could feel anger boiling up inside you. Your eye twitched. He's acting like you needed to be fixed or something. Why would he say shit like this?! You turned yourself around and pushed your hands against his shoulders trying to push his away.

"Can you get the fuck off of me! I don't need your fucking with anything just get the fuck away!" you yelled at him, tears pouring down your cheeks now. You slammed your hand against his shoulder trying to push him away.

"You don't need to push me away, y/n! It's okay!" He wrapped his arms tightly around you as more and more tears came flooding from you.

Your finger nails dug into his shoulders, harder and harder with every word. You could see him wincing in pain but he only hugged you tighter. Why would he want this?

• you hated that he stayed around. you didn't understand why he'd wanna be with someone like you? you set yourself on a path of destruction and ruined everything in your path, why would he take his chances like this?

• you were laying down in your bed when bill came around again. like before, tears were running down your cheeks and mascara was wiped all over your face but you were just laying there. not feeling anything. you had taken a couple different kinds of drugs so you were basically emotionless at this point.

• when bill walked in, he dropped everything and ran to your aid. he sat on the bed and cupped your cheek in his hand to make you look up at him.

• when you turned over at him, he couldn't see anything in your eyes. nothing. all you could remember is how sad you looked.

• he laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulders.

"do you want me to stay?" He asked, brushing your hair off of your face and pulling you closer to his body.

you just nodded and laid down against the pillows as bill whispered sweet nothings in your ear and rubbed your sides with his hands.

• it was about a month into your relationship when bill realized how little you ate.

• at first, he just thought you didn't eat breakfast but over time he noticed you didn't really eat anything unless you were offered something.

• bill also took notice when all you ate was slim jims and energy drinks. Thats when he started bringing you food.

• in the mornings, he'd come in with breakfast and give you a little kiss on the forehead. "Wakey, wakey, baby." He'd say to you and place a bunch of little kisses on your face until you wake up.

"Mmm...what are you doing here?" You said to him groggily, wiping your eyes.

"I brought you breakfast. Come on, geeet up." He'd lift you up by your arms and place the food in front of you, then he'd sit down next to you and wrap his arms around you to make sure you're eating.

"I'm not hungry, Bill." You'd say to him, resting your cheek on his arm.

"Too bad, eat up." He would take your fork and cut into your waffle and place it in front of your mouth until you opened up to eat it.

You eventually would give up and just start eating.

"Why are you doing all of this? I'm just a burden, y'know?" You say to him with your mouth full and your eyes looking up at him all cute and widened.

" 'cause I like you. And I think you're cute." You rolled your eyes and continued eating but bill would have a big, fat smile on his face.

• during the day you'd be like a zombie. your eyes would be dull and half open. Big, dark circles under your eyes and you wouldn't do much. But bill didn't mind. He would lay down with you on the couch and give you massages and kisses on your temples to relax you.

• when bill found out that you hurt yourself, he kissed up and down your body for hours. Whether it was your arms or your thighs, he'd be kissing it. He told you how much he loved you and didn't want you to hurt yourself.

• he didn't want you to feel pressured about talking about your feelings but once you did he would just hold you and listen to you talk, getting everything out. and he would never judge you for anything.

• you told him that you'd stop hurting yourself and you did. for a few days. But that changed once you got away from bill for a little while and you got high at a club.

Bill wanted the best for you but you werent good for him. You knew that, you tried to change yourself for him because you loved him so much. But in the process of being with you, he got hurt too much. You tried to tell him, but he couldn't help but love you. In his eyes, you were perfect.

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey

[onysfavreader]

Gun slut

Gunplay w/ plug!Kirishima plug!Bakugou plug!ony in mind

He looked up from cleaning your gun as you came back into the living room. "What" “I'm bored” You pout standing in front of him in just one of his shirts. “Turn around” He exhaled reaching to pull his dick out of his sweatpants.

-

You've been sitting on his dick for at least thirty minutes. All you can do is whine not being able to move as you feel him grow inside of you. The slow stretch of him becoming harder driving you crazy.

“Daddy please” You whine as your pussy clenches around him quickly growing impatient. “Damn you're that desperate” He chuckled. You nodded trying your best not to move your hips.“Couldn't even wait for me to finish cleaning your toy” He teased, pushing the magazine clip into place.

Your eyes widened hearing the click before he spread your thighs further apart with his own. You gasped feeling him drag the cold metal press against your inner thigh. Goosebumps covered your thighs as you clenched around him. Your eyes focused on the weapon as he dragged it up to your clit.

He smirked at the look in your eyes as he rubbed your clit with your gun. The obvious fear and teasing almost bring you to tears. But he knew you so well you were so desperate for him to please you. Soft moans left your lips grinding against him as you tried pushing your clit against the metal. All the fear you had somehow went straight to your pussy. The cold of the metal rubbing your clit making your mind fuzzy.

He moved his free hand up forcing his fingers into your mouth. He chuckled at the small gag you made sucking his fingers. You hazily sucked his fingers covering them in spit. The gun toying with your clit almost forgotten as you swirl your tongue around his digits. He shoves his fingers to the back of your mouth before putting his hand under your shirt to spread your spit around his nipple. You moan spreading your legs. He kissed your neck rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Mhph ahh~”

“Relax ma you're squeezing me so tight” He mumbled licking a stripe up your neck. You moan, laying your head against his shoulder. “Yea just like that”

The cold feeling of the metal playing with your hot cunt made you moan. “Like that daddy” “Yea” “Mhm please can I cum” “Not yet we just started” “But”

“Keep talking you might get another hole down here” He teased pointing your gun at your clit. You shook your head whining as you tried to close your legs. He spread his legs opening yours further.

“But you like it don't you” You nod feeling him kiss your neck sucking in certain spots. He lightly tapped the gun against your clit before bringing it up to your face.

“You see that baby you got it wet” He cooed, showing you juices covering the metal.

You roll your hips as he dragged his nails across your thigh.

Sticking your tongue out you taste yourself. The slight taste of metal making you want more.

“Fuck” He groaned grabbing your face “You really are a gun slut huh ma” He said squeezing your cheeks making your lip poke out to kiss the tip of your gun. “My pretty girl” “Please” You beg clenching around him. “You want it that bad” You nodded looking over at him.

“Show me princess show me you want it”

You wrap your hands over his before taking a bigger lick. Treating the weapon almost as if it was his dick. You took it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Slightly bobbing your head you moan as he finally plays with your clit.

Watching you pull away from the gun he finally set it to the side seeing you were down. Your body relaxed, noticing the full bullet case. “You're ok baby” He whispers in your ear wrapping his arms under your legs.

You knew you were never in real danger around him. He never has his unlocked while cleaning them let alone loaded.

The fear in your eyes only being a part of his game. He liked having your body tense around him too scared to move. He loved finding new ways to tease you.

“I know daddy” You nod “Do you” “Mm- Fuck~ mhm” You moan when he lifts you up only leaving his tip in before slamming you down. “Can't let anything happen to my girl” You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back your moans. “Just like that mama” You use your free hand to turn his head pressing your lips together. You moan as he uses your body, lifting you up and down his dick.

You moaned finally having him fuck you. Handling you as if you were just his fleshlight and you were. You let out choked moans as your skin slapped together. Desperately sucking his tongue you knew you were close.

“Aww you gonna cum already go ahead” He cooed “Mmm~ so close will- will you let me- ahh~ please daddy” “I said you could cum princess make a mess”

[ficsbynats]

❝ And maybe, all will be better now ❞

Part 1

In which you accept that your heart lies with katsuki and katsuki only, and run to reach him, hoping -praying- you reach him in time.

Content: fantasy!bakugou x princess!reader, epic chase™, reader is just a tad bit dramatic, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw, 1k words.

─────────────────────────────────

So you ran. Faster then you've ever ran before. Before the doors had a chance to open to a terrible fate, you let go of everything and ran the opposite direction.

You made your way to the carriages, praying that they be still there. Running as swiftly as your heavy dress would allow. You ran through the carriages searching for that one.

"Princess!!!", Relief flooded your senses when you heard the voice of kirishima and spotted the pale carriage. Instantly you saw kaminari mount his horse and kirishima open the carriage door.

But as fate would have it, just as you slid into the carriage, your dress caught on the door. As you and kirishima both turned to remove it, you hear hoove stomps. You give a look to kirishima, "quick! go, just drive the carriage. Get us out of here."

"But princess your dress-"

"I don't care about the dress, quick! they're coming!"

Giving you a nod kirishima mounted his horse and just as quickly the carriage moved forward. Before long you were out of the mansion grounds and moving towards the road that leads out of town.

But the knight squad was on your tail. Seeing them out the window you had an idea. You looked over to the front of the carriage seeing both your friends struggling to keep ahead and said "hey, can you guys slow down a little? Just as long as they can get like a feet within range?"

"Are you crazy?!", You heard kaminari scream.

"No, just trust me!"

After a moment of silence, whence you imagined both guys exchanged glances, you felt the carriage slow down. Then with the sharp edge of the inner caricature of the carriage you tore your netted Vail in half as well as the hem of your dress. Now with a bunch of heavy, white, bedazzling fabric in your hands you opened the back window of the carriage.

Lo and behold you met face to face with a horse just a few feet behind. With all your might you threw the garment straight in it's face. The horse disoriented and the knights behind your carriage lost formation.

"NOW RUN!", You screamed back.

Thankfully with their skills, you successfully managed to evade the knight squad that was in your pursuit. It wasn't long before the city gates were visible. It wasn't long before you crossed the bridge leading into the city, it wasn't long before you could see the red tents hauled up a few ways from the main traveling road.

But it was long enough.

It was long enough before you saw him again. His face evident with shock when he saw the carriage charging at him in such a rush, before slowing down mearly a few ways ahead of him. The horses now slowed to a trot as the carriage approached the campsite. But it was long enough, so without thinking you swung the doors open and heaved your dress up and ran.

Ran to him, dress torn and your veil swishing in the breeze, until finally you reached his arms and captured him in a hug. Holding onto him like a lifeline.

With tears falling down your cheeks, your voice cracked as you told him, "Thank you. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for not abandoning me. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry how horrible I was to you." , and cried in his arms.

And he let you, of course he did. His arms only tightened around you, as if he never wanted to let you go again. He was never the best with words, you knew that better then anyone. So, just like that, both of you stood there for a long time, and you would've kept standing there for an eternity perhaps if the universe allowed.

But he was never good with words, you knew.

When you softly pulled away, you realised the crock of your neck was wet and katsuki had his eyes closed. You put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, then he finally looked at you. It had been months since you had last seen those ruby eyes. As much as you wanted to get lost in them right now, you had something important to say. So you looked up at him and smiled then you got down on one knee, finally speaking up in a scratchy voice, "katsuki bakugou, heir to the viking tribe, will you do me, the fourth princess of the northern kingdom, the honor of marrying you?"

Then you heard laughter, the sound that heard so rarely but everytime you savour the memory. Just what you had wanted, "hell, princess, that's supposed to be my line, you idiot!", to which he unhooked a chain from his neck and took out the ring showing it to you, in response to which you did the same, as you stood up to face him.

Promise rings you had swapped long ago. The rings finally found their rightful place on the ring finger of both of your hands.

"Hah, yes princess. I will.", katsuki replies to your question with a scoff and then pulls you into a kiss.

The future is uncertain. You both potentially have two kingdoms after you, but that doesn't matter right now. Katsuki is beside you again, right where he should be. The world makes sense again.

───────────────────────────────────────────────────────

A/n: And that's a wrap. This is by far the longest fic I've written (unless you count my failed Wattpad fic (•_•⁠;⁠), this was all supposed to be a single post but it was too big so I decided to slice it up. Now I'll be going back to hibernation until I get a new idea. Meanwhile, check out the other fics on my blog? As always, stay safe and take care ♡

Replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Drop a request.

[wintaerbaer]

so eden sank to grief (knj)

summary: He just wants to make you happy. It seems to be the one thing he can no longer give.

pairing: Namjoon x Reader

rating: sfw (but maybe tears?)

genre: established relationship au, breakup au

word count: 1.2k

warnings: HEAVY ANGST, implied infertility problems, this is just the straight-up collapse of a marriage (i'm sorry)

a/n: found this buried on my old college laptop. i wrote this for a class a decade ago and figured i'd give it the fic treatment because why not (though i'm a little wary because i think it showcases how my writing has since declined lmaooo)

MASTERLIST

Namjoon’s never been a religious man, but when he sees you walking down the aisle towards him, he’s suddenly certain that there must be a heaven. With your eyes lit up like fireflies and your smile stretched wide across your face, you’re looking at him like he’s everything.

You look happy.

And it’s all he’s ever wanted to give you.

From where he stands he can see you tugging on your father’s arm, taking too-fast steps in that so-white dress, and he tries to project the thought that he’s not going anywhere—you don’t need to rush. Your father leans over to say something into your ear, and it must be along that same string of thought because you slow down ever so slightly, a frown momentarily dipping into the bow shape of your mouth before twisting back up into a grin even brighter than the one that came before it.

When you finally—finally—reach the alter, your father places your hand in his, and your fingers curl around each other, so warm as you turn to him with your tongue poking out from behind your teeth.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You laugh in response.

The officiant begins to talk, but all he hears is static because all he can think about is the svelte line of your body in that dress and your soft curls all pinned back and how it feels to have his hand pressed against the bare curve of your hip, tangled in white sheets, and he’s probably staring at you like a slack-jawed, lovesick fool, but he can’t really bring himself to care about any flack he might receive later.

He loves you.

You’re happy.

That’s all that matters.

The ceremony passes in a blur of sound and color, and then at last he’s kissing his wife—wedding band wrapped around his finger and the church bells ringing in his ears.

He wakes at 2:13am, the pang in his gut becoming too much to ignore even in sleep. The weight of the day hangs around his neck like a noose, choking him until he’s gasping for air. He rolls over, finds your face on the pillow next to his. Even in sleep, your features are twisted, crumpled.

You look broken.

It makes him ache in a way that he just can’t handle at the moment, and so he swings his legs over the side of the bed and presses his feet into the carpet that’s turned pearly white from the moonlight dancing over it. It’s too good of a color—too innocent, too pure—and he curls his toes as if he could scrape it away, make it feel the pain that he feels, make it reflect the inner turmoil of his soul.

He stands and makes his way into the hall, fighting every bone, every muscle, every pore that begs him to stop—demands instead that he lay down and die. And it is too much—it really is—as he stumbles into the small bedroom and throws himself down in the middle of it.

It hurts even more in here and for some distorted reason that makes it better. Here, he can feel every welt, bruise, and contusion of his heart and somehow—somehow—giving in to the pain makes it hurt less.

And so he sits alone in the nursery, save for the pale walls and the wooden rocking horse that he had bought one summery afternoon during a useless fit of optimism. For reasons he can’t even begin to understand, he finds himself crying over that damn horse—over how it no longer has a purpose, how it’s essentially been condemned to sitting alone in this empty bedroom day after day. He winds up curled at its side, choking on great, heaving sobs that wrack his entire body.

It’s the same place where you find him in the morning.

He’s watching film from your wedding when you come down the stairs looking absolutely striking in your sleek black dress with the matching high heels.

“What are you doing?” you ask. And still, after all these months, your voice sounds dead.

Flat.

He gestures at the television screen where the two of you are swaying on the dance floor during your reception. “Remember this?”

Your eyes flick up as you regard the image with what can only be described as complete and utter indifference—the sides of your mouth don’t twitch like they used to when you’d try to hold back a smile, nor do your eyes brighten in any way.

Simply nothing.

You don’t say a word about the homemade movie, just turn your back to him and say, “Can you zip me up?”

He gently places his hand at your waist for support, but you flinch so he pulls it back, grasps fabric instead as he glides the zipper up to the nape of your neck.

And then you’re walking away, your figure retreating into the kitchen for your purse before heading out the door, and he’s left wondering why this all went so terribly wrong—what he or you could have possibly done to deserve having the final, beautiful wisps of your past life disappear like smoke, slipping through his fingers as the two of you were sucked into a raging cataclysm of grief.

He just wants to make you happy.

It seems to be the one thing he can no longer give.

He arrives home in a swirl of shivers and coughs, the downpour outside doing nothing to help his health nor his psyche. He kicks off his boots, flips on a light, and is greeted by what seems to be an empty house.

That’s not right.

You always get home before him.

He takes a few hesitant steps forward, the feeling of wrong wrong wrong wrapping its long fingers around his gut and squeezing and suddenly, he’s speeding around the house calling your name.

You’re not in the living room, napping on the couch with a book propped on your chest; you’re not in the kitchen, cooking dinner with the radio on; you’re not in your bedroom or the bathroom or the nursery-turned-office or the laundry room or the den.

You’re just gone.

He’s always had a feeling that this day would come, but it does nothing to suppress the flood of agony that swells up, rushes in, and drowns him as he staggers back into your bedroom. Now that he’s looking, he can see how things are different—shifted, twisted, tilted.

Your perfumes and jewelry have vanished from the dresser, the painting that you bought a few months back is no longer on the wall, and the pair of slippers that usually sit next to the bed are missing. He moves to the closet, throws it open to confirm what he already knows to be true.

Your side is empty.

He falls to his knees, the last of his composure crumbling away as he gives himself over to the earth-shattering reality that lies before him—trembling beneath the glint of gold that is your wedding ring lying solitary on the bed.

a/n: apologies for any emotional damage. please feel free to rant at me in the replies or my inbox, and my lawyers will see to it as soon as possible. <3

[shelikesorchids-archive]

Sealed With a Kiss: Al Fresco

Pairing: Earth 65 Matt Murdock (Murderdock) x F!Reader (Kitten)

Summary: You take your dress off and Matt eats you out on the balcony of his penthouse. That's it, that's the fic.

Warnings: Pet names, evil Matt Murdock, cunnilingus. Straight up porn no plot. "Kitten" is a reader insert with no descriptions, but a nickname and a taste for expensive things. YOU are Kitten. You're cool NYC arm candy, deal with it.

Word count: 800 words of straight up FILTH. Join me in hell, I'm driving the bus.

Author's Note: IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS. Not really, but these two finally decided to come back to me after I saw this post. If you wanna read the rest of the Sealed With a Kiss saga, you can find it here.

As much as you loved getting dressed up in expensive gowns for parties, taking your dress off when you got home was your favorite part. You didn’t even bother taking your shoes off, but you unzipped the dress, slid it off, and left it in a heap on the bedroom floor. When you opened the door to the balcony, the night air was cool and inviting, so you decided to step out there in your underwear to feel it on your skin. Sure, people could see you out there in your slinky thong and lacy bra, but you didn’t care. 

Matt walked into the bedroom with two glasses of champagne, and damn near tripped on your dress on the floor. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the thought of you standing on the balcony almost naked, and his cock twitched at the idea of people watching you.

“Kitten, darling,” Matt crooned as he handed you a glass. “What are you doing out here with barely anything on? Aren’t you cold?” 

“I’m fine, baby. But if you’re worried about me catching a chill, why don’t you come out here and warm me up?” you teased. 

Matt licked his lips and flashed you that classic devil grin of his. The wheels of sin were turning in his head, and you clenched your thighs together at the thought of what he might do to you. He set his glass on the small table on the balcony, and ran his hands down your body as he kneeled in front of you. You downed your glass of champagne in anticipation and set your empty glass next to his full one. He licked his lips and plucked at the strings of your thong, then slid a hand between your thighs to gently spread them apart. 

“What are you doing, Matty?” you asked as you bit your lip and giggled. 

“Just feeling like a little al fresco snack, Kitten. If that’s okay with you,” he whispered as he ran his fingers up and down your thigh. 

You hummed in agreement, and he kissed your inner thigh as he continued toying with your delicate panties. His lips lingered there for a moment, lightly sucking at biting at your skin, making you break out in goosebumps. You threw your head back and gripped the railing of the balcony with your hands, knowing you were going to need to rely on the metal for leverage. Once he was satisfied with the attention he paid to your inner thigh, he started nosing at the lacy fabric covering your wet cunt, inhaling the sweet scent of your arousal. You carded your fingers in his hair and gripped it, shoving his face into where you needed him. In response, he gently slid your panties to the side, and slid his tongue right through your center. Your knees buckled, and he guided one of your legs over his shoulder to keep you in place as the tip of his tongue found your clit and he gently teased it. 

“Oh, fuck, Matt. People are gonna see,” you breathed out. 

He rested his forehead against your lower belly and whispered, “Let them see, Kitten. And let them hear, too. So brazen of you to step out here half naked, the least you can do is scream my name so they know you’re mine.” 

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as he wrapped his lips around your clit and he gently sucked. The heel of your shoe dug into his back as your leg involuntarily tensed up in pleasure, and you gripped the railing of the balcony even tighter. He slid a hand up your leg as he continued alternating between sucking and licking, gripping your ass to hold you in place as you melted into his hold. If he didn’t have a death grip on you, you were sure you would have slid off the balcony by now. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you were making the most beautiful music for him. 

“Matt, sweetie. I’m gonna come,” you panted out. 

He didn’t say anything, but he buried his face deeper in your pussy and quickened his pace with his tongue. You gripped his hair tighter and bucked your hips into his face, and with a strangled cry, you came on his face. He slowed the pace with his tongue to work you through it, and he held you as you let go of the balcony railing and slumped down onto the ground. The concrete of the balcony floor was cold, but Matt swiftly brought you into his arms as he gave you a fierce kiss, making sure you could taste the tang of your orgasm on his tongue. 

You broke the kiss and ran your fingers through his hair once again. “Take me to bed, you devil,” you whispered against his lips. 

“Gladly, darling.” 

[kathang-iniisip]

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ exhibitionism w/ aiah! <3

g!p reader, dubcon (?)

[LRT 1 edition lmao] okay for context I scrolled down to the bottom of Aiah's ig and now i'm a lil dizzy she's so pretty my first bini bias 🥰 also see her aura and vibe is just very classy but! with that being said imagine being on a cramped train with her 🥺

LRT 1 is a very cramped train especially during the rush hour, you don't even need to hold on to the handrails for safety because everyone's so pressed up against each other that no one can really move even if the train lurches forward when it goes :/

now imagine: you're standing at the very back of the train car, this beautiful stranger standing so so close and giving you a shy and apologetic smile every time she bumps into you. you'd smile back ofc, you're not a monster... except you kinda are.

It's a long train ride, and it looks like her stop is far. No moves to reach the nearest pair of doors and it's her fault really. She smells so good, her perfume teasing at your nose. Shiny eyes staring into yours intently every time she turns to apologize for almost falling and crashing into you. It doesn't matter if her poor balance is an innate thing or because of her ridiculous heels (who wears heels on the train at rush hour?) all you care about is how every time you two touch and you see her pretty face you lose a little more of what self control and decency you have.

Look. It's a cramped train and everyone's minding their business, too engrossed in their phones to even notice that every time you help the woman in front of you regain her balance, your hand drifts lower from her arms, her back, her waist, and finally her hips. God, she's hot. Built like a goddamn goddess and the innocent doe eyes are really doing you in. What would it look like if she was holding in her moans as you groped her right here, right now?

Another stop, another bump.

"goddamn rush hour" you mutter loud enough for her to hear. the agreeing giggle has you clenching your fists in an attempt to stave off thoughts that weren't for 7:00 in the morning.

Another stop, another bump. This time your hand stays on her hips. She doesn't seem to mind or brush you off even if you feel her stiffening up a little.

"Is your stop near, Aiah?" you ask. Looking at her ID to see her name. "no, not yet. you?" she replies in a low voice. you shake your head no. The train stops again and more people shuffle to get off. The brief period of relief and space vanishes once again as a new set of passengers rush in and take their places, somehow squeezing you two closer together. It's not your fault your arms are pinned on her sides. Would it be more awkward to leave your hands hanging or to actually hold on to her? Well, she didn't say anything as your hands took their places on their hips, albeit lower and closer to the curve of her ass than it was before.

It was an accident, you'd swear up and down if she asked. The first time, that is. The train suddenly halted to a stop and you had accidentally thrusted into her, your boner just about slotting into place between her cheeks. The surprised gasp and the little jump didn't escape your notice.

"sorry." you whisper. you see her nod her head, her eyes looking straight ahead. somehow more people manage to squeeze themselves in. The train lurches forward and she can't help but lean against you, her back flat against your front, your hips slotting together perfectly. So perfect you couldn't help but grind a little into her. The tiny whimper she let out broke your resolve.

It was so easy to do it in plain sight. The bumpy ride serving as the perfect cover for you to hump her to your heart's content. Your head's on her shoulder, mouth panting directly into her ear. Her eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed like she can't believe it's happening. But it is happening. Your hands creeping underneath her tight skirt and gripping her sensitive inner thighs. It's warm inside, making it hard to tell if she's wet or if it's because she's hot. The train's ac couldn't cool anyone down with how many people were inside, all of whom unaware of what was happening at the back of the train car.

"sorry, sorry, sorry," you kept muttering, rubbing yourself against her ass; one hand slipping inside her panties and the other ghosting over her unattended breasts. Her cardigan was perfect, covering for you as you tugged the hem of her skirt up, pulled out your dick, and slipped it inside her panties. she was so wet; lips puffy and sensitive, clenching everytime the tip caught on to her slit. it was a delightful surprise to feel her hand reaching behind her to grip your leaking cock and pushing it inside her folds.

you could go on like this forever, spurting and smearing precum all over the pussy of such a beautiful woman. "I'm five stops away". Or not.

"please cum inside" she bites her lip. "I can't go to class like this."

"of course." you say, sympathetic and finally slipping inside. The relief of it all made her sag against you, and you could feel her thighs trembling with the effort to keep standing. "i got you." you pounded away, finishing just as her stop was announced. A number of people got off with her and you have the pleasure of finally getting a seat and watching her exit the train with a trail of white making its way down inside her thighs, her head bowed low in shame and disbelief.'

[jpitha]

Time to Go

Back when the Human and K’laxi first met, the first K’laxi ship that the humans met was the Unimminen, a research ship, on the run from a Xenni destroyer group, and was rescued by the human scout ship Longview. While fleeing the destroyer group, the humans outfitted the K’laxi ship with their wormhole generator and enough batteries to run it once. As they were doing final checks, they fell under attack:

The noise of the alarms was all around N'ren and it hurt her ears. It bothered the humans too, but it seemed to energize them. They all got more focused, more serious and moved faster.

A human was shouting at her in that staccato language they had, full of fricatives and harsh consonants. Their ship AI, back on board the Unimminen had opened communications with the Longview's AI, and Unimminen sent along updates to their translator modules real-time to help understand the human's speech, but it was still more of a sanitized and generalized version of what they actually said. It still go the point across. It was time to go. Now.

"But, the checks aren't finished!" N'ren said, worried.

*static* "No. No time. Go Now. Your ship talk to our ship. They figure it out." *static* The human was hurriedly putting on an armored pressure suit while talking to N'ren.

"Human Francine is right N'ren." Unimminen said through his radio. The Longview and I have worked out the details and I know how to work the wormhole generator. They have given us enough batteries to run it once, and we should be able to "link" back to K'lax direct! I can't believe I'm talking to an AI from a sapient group that has never made contact! This is so fascinating!"

While N'ren put on her pressure suit - unfortunately not armored like the humans' - she wondered why the Unimminen was sounding so excited. They had never exhibited this kind of behavior before. It was more like she was talking with a person than a ship.

As N'ren tightened the last ring on her gloves, she felt, rather than heard the strikes. Huge booming thumps along the bottom of the human ship and suddenly her suit shrieked that the pressure was dropping rapidly. The Xenni scored a hit nearby!

Her large inner ears coupled with her prehensile tail gave her a better sense of balance than the humans and she was able to feel the Longview start to rotate along it's axis.

"What's going on?" she said over her suit radio in the general channel.

"Longview is rolling to keep your ship out of the firing line." Francine said "Longview big, old ship, she can take it" she said, and grinned through her helmet. She put her hand on N'ren's shoulder and pushed. "Go. Now. To ship." There was another explosion, this one larger. "RUN"

****

As N'ren ran down the halls of the Longview, Unimminen reminded her to run on the right side of the hall as humans - all in pressure suits - ran with purpose around her. Some were carrying weapons and others were carrying firefighting equipment. "Why the weapons?" N'ren said to her ship.

"They're preparing to be boarded." Unimminen said.

"WHAT? The Xenni don't do that!"

"The Humans do, apparently."

N'ren made it to the umbilical that connected the two ships. As she entered the docking room a guard shouted "CAPTAIN ON DECK!" At that command, all of the humans in the room abruptly stopped what they were doing, and standing straight and tall, saluted her.

Taken aback at this show of respect from other sapients, N'ren didn't know what to do. Unimminen said in her ear "Longview says you're supposed to say 'as you were.'" And to her credit, N'ren gave it her very best, pronouncing the human words as best as she could. The ritual satisfied, the humans continued their work.

A human engineer came up to her and said "Captain, your ship is ready. Our ship taught your ship how to work the wormhole generator and we're ready to set you off and escape. We're going to push you with the docking arms, so don't wait to fire your main drive. We'll be fine." He grinned and stepped back.

"But, what about you? What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Oh, Longview is very old. She was a Starjumper before we developed wormhole generators. We're more engine that ship. We'll turn our Stardrive on them as they come around. No worries!"

"No, I meant your wormhole generator. Aren't we taking it?"

Impossibly, the engineer grinned harder. "Oh, no we bottled a message and used the generator to link a beacon back to human space. Someone will come and bring us a new generator in a week or two. We'll be fine."

More explosions wracked the ship. The engineer looked serious. "Go, now. We'll be fine, but if you hold up much longer there won't be any ship left! I'm glad we met. Go home and tell your people."

****

Back on the command deck of the Longview, the ship was relaying information to Captain Melody.

"Captain, the Unimminen has been pushed away, they're boosting from us at their full speed. A small group of Xenni ships has peeled off and giving chase."

At that, there was a blinding flash, and the ship was gone.

"Ahh, looks like Unimminen figured out the wormhole generator." Captain Melody said. "Excellent. Longview, shall we shake off our attackers?"

"With pleasure Captain. Permission to engage War Emergency Power and thrust at 6 gees for 3 minutes?"

"Permission granted. Please warn everyone first however."

From a distance, if someone was watching the battle, they would see the Longview begin to rotate along the axes of the massive flywheels deep in the center of the ship. It oriented itself until the rear of the ship was facing the Xenni. As they pressed their attack, the Longview lit its old Stardrive and a white jet of flame, kilometers long shot out the back as the ship thrust away at a withering six gees. Everyone on board was secured in acceleration couches or command chairs and while it was unpleasant, it was over soon enough.

The Xenni ships were destroyed the instant the torch of exhaust played over their hulls. None survived to report the incident to Fleet Command.

[blueicequeen19]

Fools Gold Pt. 2

Warnings: dub-con, unprotected sex, angst

Part One

I wake up with a groan, my body felt like I'd been hit by a bus. It takes me all of two seconds to realize I'm in a guys bed just by the smell of the sheets. What time was it?

I quickly set up in the full size bed and immediately winced. I push the covers back to look at the bite mark on my inner thigh. It was throbbing. Along with my sore pussy and nipples. There were bruises around my wrists and my ankle that had been tied.

Jesus. He had not held back.

Then it dawns on me. I'm in JJ's bed. Still in my clothes from yesterday. I jump to my feet. Where were my keys and phone? How the hell had I gotten here?

"You might as well make yourself comfortable because you're not leaving." I gasp, stumbling back against the night stand when I notice him leaning in the doorway to the bathroom I hadn't noticed in only a towel. I try not to let my eyes linger but I can't help it. He was sexy as fuck even with that pissed off expression on his face. I could make out the outline of his definitely-not-small dick through the towel. His wet hair was causing water to drip down his abs and my mouth was suddenly dry. I swallow, meeting his eyes.

"You can't keep me here." I finally say, still propped against the night stand. I had nowhere else to go. JJ smirks as he makes his way over to me. I try to scramble across the bed but he catches my ankles and yanks me back, flipping me onto my back and pinning me down with his hard body. I'm panting as I stare up at him and realize his towel has come loose.

"Let's get one thing straight," I turn away but JJ grips my chin and forces me to look back at him. "I own you now. You stole half a million dollars worth of gold bars so trust me when I say I fucking own your ass until you've paid back every penny. You'll do what I say, when I say it. And no cheap pussy is going to get you off the hook." JJ bites out. I narrow my eyes before looking between us at his prominent erection.

"Cheap pussy? Then why are you hard right now? This cheap pussy turning you on, Maybank?" I reach between us and grab his member, earning a deep growl or moan from him. I tighten my grip as I start to stroke him from root to tip, his arms on either side of my head start to shake.

"Don't flatter yourself. A hole is a hole." JJ slaps my hand away and shoves off, letting the towel drop and sauntering naked to his dresser. I prop myself up on my elbows as I watch him dress. I couldn't let the free show go to waste. Everything about him was hard. He even struggles to zip his jeans with how hard he is. I smirk and he scowls.

I sense his anger and irritability only growing worse so I jump up and run into the bathroom for a shower of my own. I was so horny from watching him and having him touch me, I needed to take care of it before I burst at the seams. I slapped the door shut and quickly stripped before jumping under the hot spray. I immediately groaned, the warmth washing over me as I dragged my hands down my face. I blink the water from my eyes when I see that the shower head is detachable and I immediately grab it. I plant myself into the corner and prop one of my legs up, quickly changing the spray to jet and lowering it to my throbbing clit. I immediately cry out, the pressure too much and too intense all at once. I move it back, my legs already starting to shake. This was going to be over quick.

My eyes fall closed just as I'm reaching my peak when suddenly the sprayer is yanked from my hands and I'm hauled out of the shower. I gasp as JJ sits me down on the vanity, shoving my legs open wide.

"Only I get to make you cum. Do you understand me?" JJ growls, shoving two thick fingers inside me before I can answer. My eyes roll back and my back arches as I'm brought quickly to my release. My hands grip the edge of the vanity so tightly it hurts but I can't help it. It hits me so hard it steals my breath. I barely register JJ's growl and his hands tight on my hips before he's thrusting inside me. It felt even better than his fingers.

"Hang on to me." JJ orders and I immediately wrap my wet body around his still fully clothed one. He'd have to change again but who cared. He fucked me hard and fast, sinking his teeth into the curve of my shoulder and neck as he pulled out and came all over my stomach and pussy. I shook uncontrollably until he pushed my hands off and stepped out of the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him.

After finishing my shower and pulling on some of his clean clothes, I slowly make my way out into his living room. I immediately smell pizza and I round the corner to see him standing in the kitchen while he eats, washing it down with brown liquor.

"Eat." He snaps, taking another drink. I roll my eyes as I open the box and take out a slice.

"I'm not a dog." I chirp, taking a bite of the cheese and grease heaven.

"You sure act like a bitch though." I pause my chewing as I glare at him. He had a reason to hate me, that was fine. But I didn't have to take his petty disrespect.

"Says the man with the fragile ego." I say after swallowing my bite. JJ finishes off his slice and downs the rest of his drink, his cheeks turning pink from the alcohol.

"So how'd you do it?" JJ asks, crossing his arms as he stares at me from across the kitchen.

"How'd I do what?" Which part did he want to know?

"Don't play stupid. How'd you know where the bars were hidden?"

"You and your group of children aren't exactly discreet on your whereabouts and what you're doing." I finish my pizza and wipe my hands on a paper towel. JJ shakes his head, his face scrunched up in anger.

"I followed you guys everywhere. You never even noticed. Never covered your tracks. I sat back and waited before I made my move. By the time you noticed that, it was gone. Too late."

His chest was heaving so hard I thought he might be hyperventilating but I kept going.

"I'm so sick of this town letting you guys get away with everything. The only one who actually catches shit from the cops is you and that's because you're Luke Maybank's son and everyone knows what a piece of shit he is. I regret not leaving a few bars behind for you but I had shit I had to take care of too." I choke on the last words, fighting down the tears and the emotions that threatened to spill.

"You couldn't report me without raising a lot of questions you don't want answered."

JJ cups his jaw, blue eyes ablaze as he looks at me. The slight shake to his shoulders tells me how angry he is for his own mistakes but I don't care. I'm past caring. Fuck him and his friends.

"We found that gold. We earned it. We all almost died for it and you just stole it and spent it like it was nothing." He's yelling now but I don't even flinch. Not until he rounds the counter after me and yanks me from my place on the bar stool to shove me against the wall.

"That was my ticket out of here! I was free! You took everything from me!" My throat tightens as I stare into his tear-filled blue eyes. I didn't feel bad. I couldn't. I had needs too.

"I don't care about you. I did what I had to do for my family."

"What did you do, huh? Buy an island? Plan a trip to Disneyland? Build a house?" He slams my back against the wall and I fist his shirt, not backing down from his tantrum.

"I paid off my dead mothers medical bills and paid for my little sister to go to school." I growl, slamming my hands into his chest just as my tears start to spill. JJ pauses before taking a step back, his eyes wide as he searches my face for any sign of a lie.

"Trust me, I'd rather have gone to Disneyland." I snarl, wiping my eyes as he tries to find words. Who knew JJ Maybank could be made speechless. Another minute goes by before he checks the time and grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He growls, moving towards the door and pulling on a hoodie. A hoodie? In seventy degree weather?

"Where are we going?" I demanded, crossing my arms in defiance. Fuck him.

"You are going to break into the Cameron Mansion." JJ smirks, throwing another hoodie at me. My jaw hits the floor. Was he forreal?

JJ steps up into my space, glaring at me down his nose. This close I can tell it’s been broken a few times. I swallow, determined not to let him scare me as I stare back up at him.

"I said I own you. Let's go."

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

King of Your Heart

Chapter 7 "It's what you do best"

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is lowkey toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, self-hate (both characters), princess and fish love to argue, FRANKIE IS A DICK, 'i'm sorry but' sex, biting, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

Growth is always happening. You were growing into the 'loving girlfriend' position. Frankie was growing into the 'frightened boyfriend' position. You started to be submissive to Frankie, no more of the tough princess anymore.

You were making sure you were to make him feel good, making sure he knows that is a real man, by giving him the best sex ever or just showering him with affirmations and small gifts. Did you grow enough to finally let yourself be happy? Frankie is wondering the same thing.

He's afraid of making the wrong move and you switch back to being heartless. His heart slams against his ribs every time you walk into the room. Your face is stuck in a permanent scowl until your gaze meets his and your face falls and then beams bright with your lovely smile. Frankie is afraid for the day that you won't look at him with wide eyes and a killer smile. 

He knows you.

At least that is what he's telling himself.

How can his dream be like a chilling nightmare, no blood, no gore, just his inner thoughts playing like a film reel with you and him going around again arguing about being together?

He wakes in a sweat, you still on your side of the bed curled into yourself, that has never changed. You like your space when you sleep. 

Your breathing is so shallow that you look like you barely breathing. Your hair laid out across the pillow and your mascara smudged under your eyes due to giving Frankie head and not taking off your makeup before you passed out before he could even undress you.

3rd night of it being about Frankie, and him not being able to touch you. Frankie runs his fingers through his hair collecting sweat, he walks into the bathroom and gets in the shower. 

The sound of running water wakes you from your sleep, you look at the clock and it is only 2 a.m., you got home and blew Frankie 2 hours ago.

Frankie's side is deserted and you frown wondering why he is in the shower, you stand up, still wearing your clothes from date night. You took the opportunity of a shower, stripped from your clothes, and sleepily walked into the bathroom.

Steam clouding your sight, stumbling your way into the shower and Frankie hunched over himself bracing his body weight with one arm on the tiled wall. 

"Frankie, what's wrong?" You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your wet body against his. You feel Frankie's body tense up and he stands up straight and rests his hands on your arms. This is for real. It's not a dream anymore. It's real life. Frankie is living with you by his side. Frankie needs to let go. He wants his love for you to grow and overtake the cracks in his heart. 

Frankie takes a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to look in your eyes. He unwraps himself from you and turns to face you, his broad shoulders blocking any water hitting you, his body heat warming you up since you were left out in the cold. He looks at you through his lashes, your head tilted back to look up at him. 

Should he tell you? Tell you that are you the reason he's not sleeping anymore? That he doesn't want to dream anymore if he keeps having these nightmares of you leaving? 

"Just a bad dream," Frankie gives a half smile before kissing your forehead. You stare at Frankie trying to get out what his mind is screaming. Frankie drops his smile and turns off the water, he maneuvers you out of the way and leaves you behind in the shower you watch him walk away from you.

He grabs the towel and quickly dries his hair and his body then lastly tying the towel around his waist. You follow suit, you brushed past him to walk to your overnight bag dropping the towel then turning around to watch Frankie pull on a pair of the briefs. 

Still, nothing coming from his mouth, you rolled your eyes and then turned around to your bag finding some panties and a shirt to wear. Frankie turns off the light, not waiting for you to get into bed. You get back into bed and face Frankie who is staring at the ceiling with tears dazzling with the minimal moonlight bleeding through the blinds. 

"You scare me, princess," Frankie whispers in the night air, you bite your lip knowing exactly what he means by that. The ticking time bomb brought to attention, how much longer until this all blows up and you leave him with all the debris and rubble to clean up until you can return for a memorial. Your tears welled up and spilled over, this is the chance to cut the wires and stop the clock. 

"Frankie, I promised you no more games. You have to learn to trust me-" One more cut of a wire, could stop the clock or blow everything up. 

"You have to trust me." 

"Well I fucking can't"

Shrapnel and fire hit you. Frankie hears you gasp and then starts to sob. You watch Frankie crumble.

"I can't trust you, you're going to wake up from this haze and realize you don't want a relationship. B-because that is what you do, you are heartless and run when things get good" Frankie blurted, fisting the sheets and his breathing is heavy. Your mouth fell open just taking in the pain before you start setting the world on fire. 

"It's what you always do! I'm just living in this relationship day by day and it's suffocating. Your love is." Frankie didn't even know his mouth was still yapping away until you scoffed throwing the duvet off of you, pulling on your sweatpants. Shoving your things in your bag. Frankie scampers off the bed and blocks the door. 

"Move, Fish," You said trying to find a fault in his blockade. 

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" Frankie is pleading trying to keep you here, trying to wake himself from the sleep. But no this is real life. You are crying silently with your bag over your shoulder. You push him out of the way and run down the hallway to the living room shoving your feet into your shoes. Frankie is crying out for you, screaming your real name. 

That is what caught your attention. You spin around to see him dressing himself and reaching out for you all at the same time. Frankie was angry at himself, his inner thoughts just had come out like word vomit. 

"Fuck you, Frankie! So worried about me ruining our relationship but never even worrying about yourself!" You cried, the lump in your throat making your voice strain. You opened the door to the sky pouring down rain. You turn to look at Frankie one last time before dashing to your car. The front door slams behind you Frankie is still calling out for you. 

"Yeah, just fucking leave like you always do! That's what you do best!" Frankie really needs to shut up but the hateful words keep spilling out of his mouth. The trunk of your car slams shut after throwing your bag in haphazardly. Frankie is pressing you against the car still spewing bullshit. The rain hits you like a shower. You kept wiping away tears and the rain from your eyes just letting Frankie get his mind empty. 

Here we go around again!

Is Frankie worth it?

All he is doing making you see yourself for who you are. Yes, he is being a dick about it. But that is what guys do. They don't sugarcoat the truth. He's usually sensible when it comes to you but sometimes he has to be a dick to show you that what is wrong. 

"You drive me fucking crazy. But I still fucking love you, princess!" Frankie finally takes a breath, he cups your face and crashes his lips onto yours. You put your hands on his chest to stop him from getting closer. Your force fails because Frankie will always be your weakness. He is taking everything you give him back, a tug at his bottom lip, allowing you in. You should be resisting his kiss but you couldn't help to melt into his mouth. 

You swatted at his chest and pushed him away.

"Let me go!" You cried into the kiss, one final push, and Frankie pulled away, his hair wet and weighed down. You looked at him and saw his jaw clenching, his hands on your hips slipping under your soaked shirt. 

Don't. 

You fisted his shirt and pulled him back down to your lips, locking together. Your thirst for his taste. Rain slipped into your mouths while your tongues were fighting for dominance. 

Frankie taps your hip and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist, going back into the house. The cold air hits your blazing skin, wet clothes thumping against the floor and moans filling the room along with the hum of the AC unit and the rain hitting the roof and windows. 

Frankie is whispering praises while he sets you down on the dining table.

"I'm sorry princess," Frankie whimpers as he thrusts his hard cock into your warmth. You grip the edge of the table and lay back letting Frankie give you everything he's got. You opened your legs wider and Frankie is fucking into you with such force you are being pushed up the table and he climbs on top of it. You whined at the stretch of your walls, Frankie grips your hips to keep you in place. His lips trailing down your neck and travels to where your collarbone and shoulders meet.

His teeth sink into your skin when he pushed his thick cock deeper into your hot pussy. A faint taste of copper in Frankie's mouth. How does your blood taste so sweet too?  

"F-fuck! I'm sorryy Frankie-I need you!" You moan dragging your nails down his back, Frankie welcomes the painful pleasure from your nails drawing blood. His pace picks up and starts pounding into your cunt. It was like he fucking his apology into you, making you fall apart with forgiveness, Frankie brings your legs to your chest and fucking deeper into you. The fast pace and the tip of his cock kissing the right spot making you scream and see stars when your release is coating his cock. Frankie doing what he does best. Making you cum and just fall in love with him.

"I love you," you and Frankie say in unison. Your pussy clenches around his hard length, making his thrust stutter and spilling into you. Frankie hovers above you, breathing heavily and groaning. His cum spilling out your hole and onto the table, Frankie brushing your hair and taking in how your chest and neck are flushed with your orgasm. 

"I'm sorry," Frankie says hoarsely laying a kiss in the center of your chest. 

"I'm sorry too but Frankie we can't be together if you don't trust me," You look away and stare at the walls. It's easy to forgive but should you do it?

[gxdsfavgal]

ok! after reading a few stories, i will be forced to leave my request loolll

how about rafe being really like in love with sarah's bff pogue but she keeps him right in the line of friendship. then, one night at a party he begs her for one kiss and she finally accepts it. then smut with dom rafe trying to convince her he's the one for her?

Hi love, I saw your comments and you honestly made my night when I read them. Thank you again!

Just This Once

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, drugs, alcohol, piv, cum eating, begging, not edited

-

-

Rafe Cameron. Kook king, a druggie, and my best friends brother. It's wild actually, especially with Sarah being a Kook and me being a Pogue.

I guess it's true, opposites do attract.

The thing is, Rafe hates Pogues. He absolutely hates whoever serves him, mows his lawn, or cleans their boat. He will pick a fight with a Pogue for no reason.

Killing a Pogue is probably on his dream board. He has so much hate towards us. Well... ‘us’ in this situation doesn’t include me. Everyone says he has a soft spot for me, I always lie and say that he doesn't. He does.

He treats me like I'm not lower than him. He makes sure Topper and Kelce doesn't say anything bad about me. He makes enough food for two even when he’s the only one hungry, and gives it to me instead of his sisters.

To some people it can look like he is being a nice friend, but to everyone else they know he’s doing that for more than just to be friends. He’s constant with telling me that he doesn’t want to be friends. I’m constant on strictly being friends.

When he takes us to parties, he’ll always be in proximity of me, but if he isn’t then he is always looking at me from afar. Everyone notices, Pogues and Kooks. Tourons will try to talk to me, but of course Rafe swoops in.

Just like the party last weekend, I was talking to a touron. We were by the cooler about to get drinks, the guys arm around my waist as I was standing tense. The two of us were having a decent conversation, and then Rafe comes up to the two of us and ruins it. 

Rafe comes up beside me, his arm hooked around my waist and pulling me away from the tourons grasp. His fingers playing with the waistband of my gym shorts.

“Hey, she’s with me!” the guy started to get defensive.

“Woah little bud, I brought her here.” Rafe wrapped his arm tighter around my waist.

“Rafe, he’s a touron. Let him be.” I said to him all annoyed.

“Who said tourons gets to drink from my cooler?” Rafe stopped the tourist from opening the cooler.

“Rafe.” I looked at him like he’s crazy, mouthing to him to stop but he just replied with that smirk.

“Who are you?” the guy fully stood up straight, just a few inches shorter than Rafe.

Rafe was began to chuckle from next to me, he was entertained by the courage this tourist has.

“Rafe Cameron.” he extended his arm that wasn't wrapped around me.

The tourists demeanor changed and extended his hand out to Rafe until Rafe pulled away with a click of his tongue.

“See, I have this thing where I don't like people who don't ask for stuff. And I am the host... so.” Rafe tilted his head and his tongue rubbed against his inner cheek.

“Rafe just let him have a drink.” I tried to pull away from his hold to get a drink from the cooler, but his arm held me in place.

“Yo dude, I don't think she wants to be with you.” the tourist tried to pry his hands off of me, but I quickly backed away from the two.

“See I don't let strangers touch me.” Rafe stepped forward, his chest puffed out and back straightened.

“Just let it go Rafe. C’mon” I grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards Topper and Kelce.

“Didn't like him. Guys a dick.” Rafe muttered from behind me as I was still pulling him along. 

“Rafe.” I stopped in my tracks, looking down at the sand. “Rafe, we’re friends. You can't keep scaring guys off.”

“You know you didn't like him.” He scoffed and wiped his nose, shoving my shoulder with his as he walked passed me.

He was right. I didn't like that stupid touron, I felt uncomfortable and bored. Fuck, I hate it when he’s right.

Rafe gets what he wants. He always does, just like when he was little to the present day. If Ward says no, Rafe will find his way to get it. That is just how the Camerons were raised. 

I always made it a lesson to teach Rafe that he can't have me, no matter what he does. He’ll always be that student that challenges the teacher.

Being best friends with Sarah after a few years has given be many experiences of Rafe being flirty. Whenever I am at Tannyhill, he'll say some flirty things but I always tell him that we're just friends. We are and always will be.

Right now I'm at Tannyhill sunbathing with Sarah. A shadow covered the sun and I opened my eyes to see what it was that was ruining my tan.

There he was, towering over me as he was eyeing my body.

"Rafe, can you move? I need this tan." I squinted my eyes at him.

"Let me take you out, then I'll move." that smirk. It always gave me butterflies, I wish it didn't.

Sarah beside me sat up and took a rolled up towel and chucked it at Rafes chest.

"Ugh Rafe, go away!" she groaned, rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses.

"Shut up Sarah, let y/n answer." he tossed the towel back to her. "So what do you say?"

I used my hand as a cover from the sun so I can see him better. He was never bad looking, he just isn't what I want.

"Rafe, my answer is the same as all my other answers." I chuckled a little to make the tension lighter.

"At least go to the party with me tonight." he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. His cheeks rosy from the sun or me, I can't tell.

"Party?" Sarah shot up again. "Yes, she says yes."

Rafe cocked his eyebrow to me, ignoring his sister and seeing my answer.

"Yeah, I guess." I huffed out.

The smirk on his face turned into a smile.

"We're leaving at 8" he shouted out on his way back into the house.

"He needs to get over this little crush of his." Sarah giggled, closing her eyes and relaxing in the sun before we have to get ready in a couple hours.

"He'll get over it." I giggled with her.

-

"Let's get a move on!" Rafe yelled from the bottom of the steps.

“We’re coming!” Sarah yelled from her room with annoyance.

I grabbed my shoes and ran down the stairs.

“Look at this pretty little thing.” Rafe sized me up.

I was wearing the usual, jean shorts and a tank top.

“Let’s go!” Sarah pushed Rafe’s head and pulled my arm, leading us to the car.

Once we were at the party, Sarah immediately pulled me to the Pogues. I already knew Rafe was going to get mad at her later, but he just stomped his way to Topper and Kelce.

We all got our drinks and from the look of it, Rafe was already nose deep in coke. Every time I looked around the party, there he was with his eyes already looking at mine.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom.” I shouted over the music so that the group can hear me.

They all nodded and went back to their conversations.

I dodged bodies left and right, trying not to get alcohol spilt on me. Once I reached the bathroom, there was a line. Probably because some people are fucking.

“Hey.” Someone grabbed my shoulder.

I quickly turned around to see who it was. Rafe, of course.

“I know where the other bathroom is.” he held out his hand for me to take.

I put my hand in his and he led me through more sweaty bodies. I huffed and we made our way up the stairs, giving disgusted looks to the couples making out on the steps.

He jiggled the door knob of the master bedroom and with a push of his shoulder, the door swung open. I walked in and quickly made my way to the restroom, closing the door of the bathroom. Once cleaning myself up, I opened the door to see Rafe waiting for me on the bed. 

“Thank you.” I sent him a little smile before slowly walking to the door.

“I- Um- Wait.” Rafe quickly stood up. His body blocking me from leaving.

“Yes?” I looked up at him.

His eyelids were heavy, pupils blown, and his teeth chewed at his bottom lip. His hands repeatedly ran through his hair, rubbed at his chin and back of his neck.

“Let me take you out.” he said quietly, his chin dropped as his eyes looked dark.

“Rafe, I-”

“Fine fine. Okay.” His hand rubbed over his eyes. “Just one kiss, please.”

My eyes shot open, the alcohol was no longer in my system.

“Rafe, Sarah is my best friend and y— i’m a poug—”

“O-one kiss and I’m done. No more asking you questions. No more being nice. None of that.” he voice was deep, the way that the bedroom lamp showed off his best features was throwing me off.

I closed my eyes and sighed out. “Just this once.”

I looked at him and his tongue jutted out to coat his lips. That signature smirk was on is face with his cheeks all rosy. He took a step closer to me, my stomach was turning.

His hands cradled both sides of my jaw, his thumbs rubbing at the blush of my cheeks. He brought his lips down to mine. His lips were soft and warm. The taste of alcohol was muted by the taste and smell of weed. 

We both hummed at the electricity of our connection. My mouth opening and welcoming his tongue. My hands found their place in his hair, gripping and soothing it with every move.

His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. He moved us towards the bed, my legs hitting the edge and making my back hit the mattress. Without missing a beat, Rafe was on me again.

“I can make you feel good.” He mumbled into my lips.

My hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. Fuck.

I sat up and pulled my own shirt over my head, revealing the lacy black bra. If he wasn't coked up, his eyes would probably bulge out of his head from looking so hard.

His mouth began their attack on the tops of my breasts, sucking and marking them with red marks.

“No guy would even come close to you with these.” he moved off my chest to admire his marks.

“Rafe.” I panted out as my hands tried hard to remove his shorts.

He chuckled at my fail attempts. Finally, he got up and pulled down his shorts, along with his boxers.

When I thought it couldn’t get any better, it did. How can someone be this perfect?

“You’re gonna take me until you’re mine. Until my dick is the only thing that can make you cum.” 

I whimpered and closed my legs at his words. I was soaking.

His hands aggressively grabbed my shorts and pulled them down my legs. My black panties that matched my bra caught his eyes.

“Fucking perfect.” his fingers pulled at the waistband of my panties and let go with a snap.

He pulled them off of me and folded them neatly, tucking them into his shorts that were on the floor.

His attention was brought back to me, a whining and in shock mess on the bed. His hand gripped my jaw, making sure my eyes stayed on his.

“After all these years, I’ve been so good for you.” he licked his lips. “I showed you I can treat you good. I can take care of you.”

My eyes were wide. I honestly didn't know how to react, I’ve never had someone confess their feelings to me while I was half naked and in bed with them.

“Fuck!” I jumped at his words. “I- I love you.”

He was laughing to himself.

“I’ve never said those words to anyone.” His fingers dug into my cheeks. “I’m perfect for you.”

He brought his lips down to kiss the indents of his fingers littered across my jaw.

“We’d be the perfect couple. You wouldn’t have to work a single day in your life.” he deeply whispered into my skin as his other hand brought the tip of his cock onto my clit.

Moving it all over the sensitive bud. I hummed a moan every time he nudged my clit. I was soaked, I was dripping down my thighs and onto the random persons sheets.

He slid in with ease, I was tight around him and he gave me the perfect amount of stretch. He groaned into my neck, the vibrations went around my whole body. I still didn't know how to feel about him. He trapped me in this room, but damn he does feel good.

“Fuck Rafe!” I moaned out after trying so hard to not say anything.

He let out a low growl as his hips pistoned in and out of me. 

“I love the way you say my name.” he smothered my neck with kisses and sucked hicks onto my skin.

His dick was reaching all the right places, the room was filled with panting and the sound of skin slapping against each other. 

God, he was addicting. 

“You gonna be mine? huh?” he asked me as he panted.

No answer. I was a moaning mess. My sounds were drowned out by the music playing at the party. 

His hand grabbed my jaw, squeezing my cheeks together. All of his movements stopped, not a single thrust or twitch. He made sure my eyes were leveled with his.

I whined at him, trying to move my hips from under him to get the smallest amount of pleasure back.

He spat on my face, the liquid landing on my lip. His finger dragging over it and spreading it all over my cheek. “You're gonna answer me first, then I’ll decide if we can continue. Okay?”

I nodded my head up and down.

“Now. Are you gonna be mine?” he licked his lips.

I nodded once again, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Words. Are you gonna be my good girl?” his voice was deep. He held eye contact with me.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be yours!” tears started to form at the corners of my eyes. “I’ll be your good girl.”

He pressed his lips against mine, his tongue soothing where my teeth had indented. His hips continued their pounding, my legs spread wider as we both moaned in sync.

“You feel so good around me!” he grunted out.

I was close, I felt the fire all over my body. I could feel Rafe about to let go too, his hips stuttering, his eyelids getting heavier.

“Im gonna cum Rafe!” my nails dug into his shoulder.

“No. We’re gonna cum together.” he groaned out as he was able to fuck into me even faster and harder.

My throat was raw from all the screaming and moaning that he has done to me.

“Fuck baby! Cum!” 

My body shook. My eyes only seeing stars. I was in euphoria as he pulled his cock out and came on my stomach. I moaned at the feeling of the spurts landing on my skin. 

I tossed my head back onto the mattress and my chest heaved, my eyes closed, and my body was sore. I suddenly felt Rafes fingers tracing on my stomach.

I open my eyes and lift myself up to see that he was tracing “RC” onto my skin with his cum.

His eyes were barely open, but he brought his cum covered fingers to my mouth. My tongue savored the warmth and taste of him. I could’ve sworn he got hard just by looking at me with his fingers in my mouth.

“Let me clean you up then I gotta show everyone who’s my girl.” he stood up and walked his naked body to the bathroom to get a warm wet towel.

He was gentle, the most gentle he has ever been. He cleaned me up and helped me get dressed. 

Of course he had a soft spot for me, but never in my life did I think I’d see Rafe Cameron cleaning our cum off of me. I never imagined that I would be marked by him or even let him kiss me.

He didn't just leave me there in the room to wobble my way down the stairs, he helped me walk down the in a way that just looked like I didn't just get railed. He held me tight on the waist and arms, his thumbs rubbing soft circles.

I don't even know how he convinced me to do that. My body and mind was on autopilot. 

Once we reached the party again, he held my hand and pulled me onto his lap at the table with all of his friends.

“You said you were going to the bathroom!” Sarah said from behind me.

All of the Pogues showed their disapproved expressions.

“Sarah, I swear I went to the bathroom!” I told her as best as I could with my raw throat.

“I showed her the bathroom.” Rafe looked back at his sister, white powder on his nose and again his signature smirk.

“Ew, you guys are sick!” Sarah pretended to be disgusted even though I know she probably saw it coming.

[ifidiedinadream]

pspsps @joonasslut 👀👀👀

also on ao3

You're sitting next to Joel at the restaurant. And maybe you scoot your chair even closer to his, totally ignoring his personal space, to cling to his arm and kiss him on the cheek in between courses. This does have its effect; his cheek is always rosier after each peck, and he even turns his face to kiss your lips once, interrupting the chat he's having with Tommi across from you. 

However, soon those bits of attention aren't enough anymore. You're on a mission tonight after all, you decided it earlier today while you were choosing the outfit (the dress made him part his lips when he first saw you in it back at home, and when he closed them, a lump noticeably went down his throat. He didn't say anything but you knew then you had him in the palm of your hand) - and you won't leave the restaurant until Joel is so hard he's too embarrassed to stand up from his seat. 

And hopefully, hopefully, so frustrated about it he'll throw you up against the wall as soon as you get home. 

You carried out the first step of your plan earlier, back in his car while you were driving here: he mindlessly put his hand on your thigh when he stopped at a red light, and you shifted in your seat, legs parting at the touch. His hand slid down the inner part of your thigh, but he kept looking straight ahead, his jaw clenched. You closed your legs again and trapped his fingers in between them. Your knees were pointing towards him now. You squeezed your thighs together, as if to keep his hand warm, and it made your skirt ride up just a bit.  

"You're gonna make tonight's get together impossible, aren't you?" Joel asked when the light went green and his hand was back on the gearshift. 

Oh, he had no idea just how much. 

Now, the next step of your plan is to whisper something in his ear. Next time he leans down to receive what he thinks is another innocent butterfly kiss, you tell him that you're wet, making sure to use the tone that usually makes him palm his cock reflexively. 

He tenses up. You feel it in the arm you're clinging to. He doesn't respond, however, only sits up again, picking up a piece of his steak with the fork but doing nothing to bring it to his mouth. 

Joonas, sitting on the other side of him, catches his attention by saying something funny. You bite at the inside of your cheek: you need to step up your game. 

Your next move is to touch Joel's face with your fingers, forcing his gaze away from Joonas and back to you. Joonas hasn't even noticed, because he's talking to Aleksi now, and you take advantage of the moment to actually kiss Joel, tongue and all. He responds without fighting it too hard. 

"Babe, behave," he tells you afterwards, a warning in his quiet voice. You only flash him a naughty smile. 

He goes back to talking with his friends and your hand almost instantly lands on his thigh. He goes rigid, but doesn't acknowledge you, so you start stroking his leg, up and down, slowly. You can hear how he stutters during his speech the higher your hand moves, and when he finally breaks, turning to you with furrowed brows, his cheeks and nose are completely red. 

"Stop this." 

But all you do is palm his cock. Finally touching him there, like you've been longing to do all night. He's half hard, you feel, the shaft barely taking shape in the whole of his package. He inhales sharply, looking straight ahead, like the backwards "Ravintola" lettering on the glass wall across from him is really that interesting.  

"Stop," he repeats, "we're in public." 

He's just too cute when he's all flustered like this. 

"I'm aware."

He reaches out for his glass of wine, taking a sip of it if only to wet his dry lips. You keep massaging his bulge, his cock hardening under your touch. It's fun; he does his best to respond when his friends, blissfully unaware of what is going on under the table, try to engage him in a conversation. He answers their questions, laughing at their jokes or when it seems convenient, nodding along to what they say, but you know his mind is completely blank except for your hand on his cock. He's avoiding eye contact with anyone, with you most of all, and he's all pink in the face, his lips quivering, eyelash fluttering subtly every once in a while.  

When you initiate the last part of your plan (which is opening up his pants), his hand hastily catches your wrist under the table. He squeezes firmly, forcing you to stop all your movements. That's when you know he has had enough. You grin when he turns to face you, eyes wide in incredulity, his grip tightening at the sass on your face. 

You won't be able to walk tomorrow, that's for sure.