#hand and mouth kisses are laurent

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.” 

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 

“He was just drunk.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles��� eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

[gurugirl]

Pervert

sugardaddy!harry x yn

Summary: This is a flashback (before he and Romy split) based on this request. Harry calls Y/n to his office in the middle of a workday.

Word Count: 3k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating (technically), public sex (sort of), a touch of degradation kink

The Arrangement Masterlist

Y/n was in the elevator with coffee from Starbucks for Harry and Sean and their guests. She had two trays balanced in her palms and the strap from her gorgeous new purse from Harry, hanging from her shoulder.

She bit her lip thinking about the man she shouldn’t be thinking of like she was. She knew he was married and it was just an arrangement but she was so far gone for him. And he’d said so many things that got to her. That had her head playing his words over and over and over again. How much he missed her between meet-ups, how he wished she could stay in his house with him so he could have her when he wanted. The way they’d just sit and talk for hours. The way he’d wind his eyes over her face with his gentle gaze, his fingers softly brushing over her jaw or her cheekbone before he’d kiss her. It had her insides glowing hot.

When the elevator had made it to the office floor the doors slid open as Y/n stepped out but she didn’t get far. Hands clutched her forearms under the coffee trays and walked her backward into the elevator, “Let me help.”

Harry pulled a tray from her hand and then scooped her in by the back of her head and smashed his mouth against hers wetly as the doors closed behind them.

He wasted no time in getting his tongue against hers and making her feel blurry and faint.

“Needed to do that all day,” Harry leaned his forehead to hers, “You’re wearing the dress I bought you.”

She smiled, “Well everything I wear these days is something you bought me.”

“Harry pushed himself off of her and looked down at the fit of it on her, “I suppose that’s true. That doesn’t mean I don’t love seeing you in things I paid for. God, you’re gorgeous.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened up to Jessica standing there, “Oh! The elevator doors must have closed on you two. Need help?” She eyed the trays and then Harry.

“Oh, we’ve got it. I noticed she was struggling so I came to help her but the doors closed behind me,” he laughed, “But thank you, Jessica.”

Y/n and Harry slipped past Jessica as she got into the elevator.

“That was close, Mr. Styles.” Y/n teased.

“Come to my office after this meeting. Okay?” He pushed the entry door open to let her pass him with the coffee tray.

“Sure. Whatever you want, sir.”

She walked into the conference room and gave everyone their order before quietly leaving. Harry watched her on her way out. He was quickly letting himself get too attached to the girl. But he wasn’t sure he could help it.

An hour later Y/n watched as Harry walked past her desk to his office. He glanced at her as he did so and she quickly got up from her spot to follow him.

“Close the door.” Harry took his suit jacket off and sat down on the couch as he watched Y/n shut the door.

“Now come here.”

She complied, walking toward where he sat and stood opposite the coffee table in front of him.

“Turn around for me. Let me see how pretty this looks.”

She cracked an embarrassed smile and turned around for him before giggling and looking down at her shoes.

“What’s underneath?”

“Mm…” she thought back to what she’d put on that morning, “The yellow lacy panties and bra from Saint Laurent.”

Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs, “Take the dress off. I want to see.”

She swallowed, “Uh? Here? Should I lock the door?” She looked toward his office door and then back at him.

Harry laughed and got up, walking past Y/n to lock his door.

“Now it’s locked. Show me what’s mine, Y/n.” He walked to stand before her.

She felt hot all over as she stepped out of her heels and then began to unzip the back of her dress, letting the fabric fall down her torso before she caught it, and slowly stepped out to drape it over his coffee table.

“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath as he walked around her, taking in all of her skin and the pretty fabric of the set he’d bought her.

He stepped behind her, his hands starting at her shoulders and slowly moving down her chest and over her breasts before he lowered his mouth to her neck and began to softly run his lips over her skin making her sigh.

“Every time I see you in such pretty panties looking so feminine and put together, it just makes me want to ruin you. Can I ruin you, baby? Can Daddy take what he wants from you?”

She whimpered softly as she leaned her head back into his shoulder, “You can have whatever you want, Daddy.”

Harry smiled into Y/n’s neck as he pulled away from her and began to undo his pants. She turned to watch what he was doing and his eyes were already on her.

When his zipper was down he reached for her hip and pulled her in before he smoothed his hand down to her crotch, rubbing circles over her lace-covered clit. He could feel the moisture seeping through already.

“Filthy thing. Getting these expensive panties all wet, dirtying them,” he dredged his fingers up and down, her arousal, making his fingers slick as she moaned softly, “Do you know these cost more than Jessica makes in a whole week? And here you are just making a mess inside of this delicate, hand-stitched, Italian fabric.”

He tsk’d at her as he as he watched her eyes. He loved it when she started to melt for him, “Daddy buys all these pretty things for you and this is how you treat them?”

She inhaled and balled her fists to her sides to keep herself from reaching for his arms or his shoulders to hold on to, “Sorry, Daddy.”

Harry nodded, “That’s okay baby. I know you can’t help it when you’re around me. Like an excited puppy who needs potty training. Isn’t that right?”

His demeaning words were spoken low and quietly as he continued slipping his fingers over the panties, spreading her arousal all over the front.

“I just really want you.”

“Well, you have me already. What is it you want right now?”

She let out a shaky breathy and her rounded eyes fluttered when he switched from using his fingertips to glide over her panties to his knuckles, creating more friction, “You. I just want you. Whatever you want. Anything.”

Harry licked his lips. He loved the sound of that. And he knew she would let him do anything. That was the thing about Y/n. She loved it all. She liked it rough and soft and painful and slow. She never said no even when he gave her so many chances. She liked everything. She was perfect for him.

“Since we have to be quiet and quick I can’t do what I really want to do to you right now. Do you know what I want to do to you right now?”

She shook her head as Harry dropped his hand away from her pussy and walked toward his couch before sitting.

“Come here into Daddy’s lap and I’ll tell you what you deserve. What I’d do if no one could hear us.”

She felt her limbs buzzing as she followed after him and climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs with hers. Harry lifted his hips and pulled his hot, angry cock from its confines.

“I’d make you bend over the desk and tie your hands down and your legs apart, tied at the ankles so you were just spread out for me and at my disposal.” He nudged the wet fabric at her crotch to the side and pushed a finger into her entrance slowly as he watched her swallow harshly.

“I’d use whichever hole I wanted at different times. First your cunt,” he punctuated as he jammed his long middle finger inside of her deep making her coo softly. “I’d use your wet hole to fuck into and please myself. Get myself off while you are immobile and grunting and whining.”

Harry’s palm smeared over her clit as he pulsed his finger in and out of pussy, “I’d dump my come deep inside your tummy and make sure it was all fucked inside of you as deep as possible.”

She began to pant and wiggle against his hand while his other hand moved up to pull her tits from the lace. He pinched softly over her nipples as he continued, “You’d be drooling and crying, begging for me to let you come but instead, I’d go back to work to get things done because I’m a very busy man, you see. You’d have to lie there for me all spread out and needy while I work and make money so I can keep spending on you.”

The sound of her pussy being fingered was dirty as she tried to maintain her breaths and keep quiet.

“But then I’d see this pretty ass,” he pulled his finger out of her pussy and reached to the back of her panties, and hooked his finger into the flimsy fabric to grant himself access to her tight hole before he circled it with her arousal, smearing her wetness all over, “And I’d need to fuck it too. Use this pretty hole to get myself off again. But you’re a nasty girl who likes getting her ass fucked, isn’t that right?”

Y/n nodded in desperation. Her lips were parted as she breathed heavily. But when Harry pushed his middle finger into her tight hole she gasped and widened her eyes.

“You’d be so pathetic and helpless. Just desperate for more come and I’ll give it to you because after I’m done I’ll watch how it drips from both of your holes while you’re shaking and acting like a desperate slut. You’ll be lying there begging a married man to use you and breed you.”

She continued to nod with her mouth dropped open as she kept her eyes on Harry.

“Now sit on Daddy’s cock. I can tell you need it, baby. We’ll get these panties all stretched out and wrecked since you don’t care for them anyway.”

Y/n raised herself upward and placed her hands at the back of the couch to steady herself as Harry kept his finger in her asshole.

She was so wet and so swollen he fit inside of her easily as she slid down his shaft.

Her head began to spin as he lifted his hips and began to fuck into her slowly, “There we go. Soaking wet for me, darling.”

Harry’s dirty talk ceased for a few moments as he reveled in the way she felt stretched around him all creamy and tight and warm. The couch squeaked the smallest bit when Y/n began to ride him up and down slowly.

The feel of his thick cock spreading her open and dipping deep into her guts with his finger in her ass had her shaking and holding in a moan.

“Getting yourself all worked up aren’t you, baby?”

She pouted as she began to roll her hips and ground her clit into his pelvis, “Daddy… can I come? Gonna come really fast, you feel so good…”

Harry smiled and leaned his head back into the couch as he looked from her soft tits to her scrunched face, “Wait for me, baby. I’ll tell you when you can. Just a little more,” he panted.

Slushy, slick noises, and heavy breaths filled the room as they moved together, getting each other off. No one did it for Harry the way Y/n did and he wasn’t sure if that was a shame or if that was a good thing. He certainly felt no guilt when he thought of the way Romy couldn’t even compare to Y/n.

“Fuck baby, you always know just how to squeeze around me like that,” Harry gritted his teeth, “So much better than my wife. You deserve to be filled up and dripping with my come because you’re mine. Isn’t that right?”

Y/n’s insides were sparkling and pulsing. She was doing her best to hold back but Harry’s words always got to her and his cock felt so good taking up every inch of her cunt, “Yes…” she breathed, “I’m all yours, Daddy… please!”

Her please came out too loud so Harry pulled her in by the back of her neck to crash his mouth to hers as they both felt their orgasms begin to unfold and take over.

“Come on Daddy’s cock baby,” Harry spoke against her lips before shoving his tongue into her mouth to keep her quiet.

She trembled and let out muffled moans as her pussy fluttered around Harry’s shaft and swallowed him deep. He felt his cock being wrung out by her as his come poured out from his tip inside of her. Where it belonged.

They moved their mouths together to mute their gasps and moans as they released together there in his office on the couch he used for clients and co-workers.

Part of Y/n didn’t care if anyone heard. She wanted him to herself and she wanted everyone to know that she was getting his cock on the regular. That his wife could never make his ears ring and his thighs shake like she did. He never felt so desperate for his wife that he needed to fuck her in his office in the middle of a workday. Never dreamed of her the way he dreamed of Y/n. Didn’t masturbate to the image of Romy while he was showering but rather he imagined Y/n’s eyes and her lips, and her fingers when he was fucking his fist. She was his dream girl. His favorite girl. Y/n was. Not his wife. And Y/n knew this to be a fact.

When they both finally slowed their movements and Y/n parted from Harry’s mouth she felt the way she’d drenched his lap and looked down, “Oh god. Sorry!”

Harry laughed and eased his finger from her ass, “I have a change of pants here for just this kind of emergency.” Harry tapped her bottom, “Up you get. I’ve got a call to make and you’ve work to do.”

Y/n slowly dragged her pussy off his cock and he hissed at how sensitive it was. She stood up and began to slip her panties down her hips but Harry stopped her, “Keep them on. Want you to sit in your wet panties with a pussy full of my come so you remember exactly what bad thing you’ve done today,” he smirked at her as he stood and took his pants off to switch them out for a clean pair.

“But I’ll get my dress all wet too,” she looked down at the yellow lace and back up at Harry.

“It won’t show through your dress. No one will know you’re all messy and freshly fucked.”

She pouted as she moved the crotch of her panties back into place and readjusted the bra before picking up her dress.

Harry pulled up his clean pants and sighed as he looked at Y/n trying to avoid getting her dress a mess as she stepped into it, her face scrunched.

He walked up behind her and helped her zip the back of the dress, “Darling, you know you can take them off if you want, right? I’m not that mean.”

She turned to look at him, “But you said–“

Harry shook his head, “It’s just a fantasy. You don’t have to suffer through wet panties just because I’m a pervert,” he grinned.

She smiled at him, “You’re not a pervert. And if you want me to keep them on I will. I love making you happy.”

“I know you love to make me happy. It’s why this works so well,” he pulled her toward him and kissed her, “But you’re a big girl and you can make your own decisions can’t you?”

She nodded.

“Do you want them off?”

“Well… I mean. It is uncomfortable. It’s so wet.”

Harry laughed, “I know they’re wet. You completely destroyed them. How about this, we’ll compromise. You take them off but that means you get to feel my come dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day. Every time you get up or move a little bit will seep out. That’ll be your reminder.” He had his long fingers wrapped around the front of her neck as he spoke.

She grinned, “Okay.”

When her panties were finally off Harry took them and stuffed them inside of the pocket in his dirty trousers, “I’ll have the housekeeper clean these up and make them like new again. Then I’ll bring them back to you. How’s that sound?”

“Okay. But what if your wife sees them?” She asked as she slid her heels back onto her feet.

Harry shrugged and tossed his pants behind his desk, “So what if she does? She knows I’m fucking someone else. Knows someone else is giving me what she can’t.” He stepped toward her and pushed her back to his office door, “I don’t care if she sees them. I hope she does. Hope she finds them all sticky and dirty and knows what kind of good girl I’ve been enjoying.”

With her back pressed into the wall next to his door and his hand on the front of her neck he gave her a soft and sloppy kiss before pulling himself away, “Now it’s time to get back to work.”

Y/n nodded and bit her lip as she slowly walked out of his office and back to her little cubicle, his come dripping out of her cunt and down her thighs as she went. The feel of him warm down the inside of her legs made her smile knowing that she was his favorite.

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[wrenaspun]

what about the prompt that damen starts dating laurent but laurent thinks it's only casual to damen and is dying inside while damen is planning for their future 👀

👀 👀

Damen’s hands were warm on Laurent’s hips, grounding, the sole point of steadiness in a dizzy world. His eyes were very dark. Laurent’s whole body was flushed and trembling. He’d lost track of how long they’d been in bed together; he knew his thighs were sore. His back was sore. He could barely keep himself moving, but the thought of stopping was unbearable. He hadn’t known anything could feel this good.

Damen pushed up into him, grip tightening, and Laurent felt another impossible pulse of searing pleasure, heard himself make another helpless, embarrassing noise. He was submerged in sensation, utterly conquered by the sweep of Damen’s thumbs over his skin. Coming was almost irrelevant. He wanted to stay like this forever.

Underneath him, eventually, Damen’s body tightened as it did when he was close. “Laurent,” he said, and just the sound of his voice was sensual, rough and fucked-out. Laurent shuddered, a breath away from coming. Damen kept murmuring to him, endearments, encouragement, praise, and then one hand moved to stroke softly up Laurent’s side — and it was that which brought Laurent over the edge of pleasure, the sweet touch which was impossible to defend against.

Laurent’s body was weak and shaky in the aftermath, overwhelmed. Damen gathered him close, kissed his cheek, the tip of his nose, his slack mouth, and that was also impossible to defend against, in a slightly different way. Laurent’s heart ached, but he was never strong enough to deny himself this, the tender moments after their lovemaking when he had an excuse to cling to Damen, to nuzzle close and breathe him in.

“Lovely,” Damen was saying now. Pleasure always left him loose-limbed and loose-lipped, prone to saying horrible things. Like now: “Sweetheart. You look so lovely like that, taking your pleasure. I missed you.” He kissed Laurent’s temple. Laurent had been roped into visiting Auguste over the weekend; two whole days they hadn’t seen each other. Damen’s arm was slung over Laurent’s waist, their legs tangling together like he wanted to erase the memory of their separation. “Will you stay for dinner?”

The first time Damen had said something like that, Laurent had kept his wits about him enough to keep smiling. “You don’t have to flatter me,” he’d said. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Damen had just furrowed his brow, looking earnestly confused. “I’m just telling the truth.” He’d kissed Laurent’s bare shoulder, soft, very tender.

That was just the kind of person he was, Laurent had realised. He was open-hearted, always willing with his affections… He was entirely earnest when he called Laurent his sweetheart, said he was lovely, wonderful, precious. It didn’t mean — what Laurent wanted it to mean. It didn’t mean what it would have meant if Laurent was the one saying it. Sometimes he wondered how Damen would talk to a real partner, someone he really loved instead of a convenient rebound hookup, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He hated that person already.

“Yes,” said Laurent now. And realised, with a humiliated flush, that he’d come straight to Damen’s flat after work, that if he went to his apartment now there wouldn’t be any food in the pantry. He’d expected this invitation so intrinsically that it hadn’t even registered as an expectation.

Damen stretched and got up, all rippling muscle and smooth motion, moving with the ease which came with perfect command over his own body. He kissed Laurent once more, said he’d be in the kitchen, and left.

Laurent rolled over and buried his face in Damen’s pillow. He needed to get a grip. One of these days Damen was going to do something casually nice by his standards and Laurent would just stop functioning. He was barely managing now. He knew better than to expect anything of a man who’d just come reeling out of an engagement, but — he was barely managing now. He made a noise of abject despair into the sympathetic pillow, then got up and wrapped one of Damen’s shirts around himself and went into the kitchen.

Damen looked over and grinned to see him, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. “Sweetheart,” he said, abandoning the vegetables he was stir-frying to come over and press a kiss to Laurent’s mouth. And then, looking almost shy, he gestured to a little vase overbrimming with bright flowers: “I almost forgot. Happy three months.”

Laurent stopped functioning.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you think any of the OI characters could be convinced to put on a sexy nurse outfit, while taking care of their sick partner?

I am giggling! (I really tried not to just be like YES to all of them, but I am a weak, weak person.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: silliness, references to sexy times

Word Count: 465

_____________________________________

Steven: Giggles the whole time, and puts on a fantastically over the top accent to go with the new character he’s created. You have to kiss him to shut him up when he starts quoting Carry On, Doctor.

Marc: Will put on the outfit and make you take your medicine and go to sleep. “I’m taking care of you, so you feel better, why did you want something else?” Is a little shit about it until you beg him for kisses.

Jake: No sooner than the words are out of your mouth, he’s already scrambling to get changed. Nurse Lockley is here with medicine (his dick) and to take care of you (fuck your brains out if you’re up to it.) 

Nathan: Nathan ‘I’m not putting that fucking thing on’ Bateman. Getting all grumpy and muttering under his breath. The second you are out of the room though and (preferably) laying down, he’s knocking on the door in the most outrageous outfit you’ve ever seen and telling you he’s ‘been hired by Dr Bateman to take care of you’.

Anselm: You never have to even bring up the idea, because Anselm has already dressed up for you in a nurse’s outfit many times. (He has several for different occasions, but tends to prefer a custom made latex one that is skin tight and crotchless.) 

Cecil: Thinks the idea is hilarious and gets a little too into character. Tries to wear a pair of very high heels and you just about manage to convince him to take them off before he falls over and gives himself a concussion. 

Club!Blue: Doesn’t mind dressing up at all and is far too into it. (If a guard knocks on his office door, he will be answering it in full costume and with his cock out.)

Orderly!Blue: Please do not encourage this man. 

Jack: Has a disturbingly realistic outfit with blood stains that you do NOT want to ask where they came from. 

Santiago: Takes some convincing because it makes him feel a little self conscious, but he wants to try to not only cheer you up but also to get over some insecurities and he knows he’s safe with you.

Shimmer!Kane: Puts it on without a second thought, clothes are clothes, right? However he does like that it makes you happy. 

King John: Even though this is not historically time period accurate, I can’t help myself - he’s gonna fuck you in a plague doctor mask. I’m sorry.

Rydal: Will be a brat about it, because he wants you to spank him in the outfit.

Laurent: Starts going on about how he’s a ‘wet nurse’ and keeps shoving his boobs in your face.

Poe: As if this man doesn’t have 400 outfits on hand at all times.

_________________

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[gojossocks]

Bf! Gojo Headcanons

nsfw content below the cut

★ Has a mediocre fashion taste. usually hit or miss with his outfits because his build is really nice AND he is really good looking so no one really pays attention to how he dresses 

★ but then you came along so you gave him the ‘girlfriend effect’ then suddenly you transformed gojo into this fine ass even more attractive man because you made him he look richer 

★ spends money on absolutely ludicrous things .

“babe i got us Saint Laurent condoms!” he excitedly says, holding up 5 pieces of them. 

 “Satoru, I am on birth control.” 

★ loves touching you ALL THE TIME

★ like it’s even at a subconscious manner at this point, one time he gropes your ass while you were at a grocery store and you gave him no touching privileges for 3 hours.

★ he gets really pouty when he doesn’t get what he wants and you give in all the time because who wouldn't?

★ gets cocky when he makes you a blushing mess 

“shut the fuck up, satoru.” 

“I will if you kiss me.”  then that would get YOU to shut up and him smirking at you. 

★ Gojo has an oral fixation so he also makes it your problem. candy wrappers everywhere and he tastes sweet all the time because of that.

★ Speaking of kisses, he is absolutely addicted to your lips. won’t stop until you’re both out of breath and your lips are swollen— gets filthy while doing it too. 

“Satoru, please stop kissing me. My lips would bleed at this point."

“Can’t help it baby, you taste so sweet.” he would smile before plunging right back to your lips and would let out a satisfied hum when you gasp into his mouth, granting him access to slide his tongue right into your mouth. That way, your lips would get their rest, because he is tongue fucking you :D

★ Also has a huge fixation on you, good luck on having anything done with him in the same vicinity as you.

★ You have a paper to work on? No worries! You can sit between his legs while you do it. It’s not his fault that you can’t concentrate on writing when he’s just being a good boyfriend, licking and giving you hickies on your neck. It’s also not his fault that you were just wearing his shirt and those baby blue lace panties that he loves so much.

★His hand would travel under his your shirt to cup your boobs,  while the other that’s resting on your hip slowly inched its way to your covered cunt. 

He would chuckle when he elicits a needy whimper from you when he moves his hand away from your pussy. Well, you’re busy so he’s going to have fun, right? 

Gojo’s obsessed with your tits, he’s shameless when he’s kneading and squeezing them, his thumbs grazing over your hardened nipples– savoring the way you squirm. 

“pay attention to your paper, babe. don’t mind me." Then seconds after, he’s bringing his lips to yours as he rubs your clit through your panties, swallowing your moans. 

“I’ll give you what you want when you’re done with what you’re doing.” He murmurs softly to your ear. 

“p-please…Satoru, quit teasing me–” he loves it when you guide his hand where you need it the most. He gives in of course, ripping your panties so he could insert his long fingers inside your pussy.

He would overstimulate you, your paper long forgotten as your laptop falls off your lap. Don’t even think of trying to stop him, he wouldn’t stop until he’s satisfied. 

“You asked for this. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” 

Once you come down from your high, he brings his soaked fingers into his mouth, savoring the taste of you. Then maybe if he makes you cum twice or thrice more, he would reward you with his cock— filling you to the brim the whole night. Who cares about your finals? He could just pay your professor to make you pass.

★ He is an absolute menace but he is the best boyfriend ever.

Wanna read more?

[senqv]

LOVEGAME !

blue lock ! fanfic featuring : michael kaiser x gn! reader

warning(s) : lots of mentions of feminine stuff like dresses & makeup but still can be read as gender neutral ( hopefully ??? ) , kisses <3 , a bittt suggestive , loserboy kaiser , established relationship , no proofread so prolly some spelling / grammar mistakes , lmk if there are more !

kaiser as the rich football star who loves spoiling his lover. he brings in around 2 million usd annually, so just say the word and he will deliver it. anything from givenchy to giambattista valli; or even the custom-made garments from paris couture week starting from the tens of thousands to several millions.

he’s also quite accustomed to playing around with makeup, loves it when you offer to do his eyeliner for him <3 but really, what he enjoys the most is dressing you up all pretty just for him !!

“gorgeous,” kaiser whispers, lithe fingers going down the side of the navy satin gown from saint laurent, teasingly flitting just below the hemline. his fingers press down onto your thigh at the way your makeup preoccupies you instead of paying attention to him, tilting his head to the side as he meets your gaze in the vanity mirror. “just a sec,” you continue to apply your mascara without a care in the world, oblivious to the impatient taps of your boyfriend’s fingers. he leans forward with a sigh, hands caged at either side of your frame.

kaiser frowns in displeasure at your refusal to spare him even a glance, and you can tell he’s getting restless at the way his fingers drum aggressively against the table. “kaiser,” it’s almost funny how fast he looks up at the call of your voice. “sit behind on the bed or something, please ? you’re distracting me.” you say, leaning even more forward to properly apply the opalescent highlights on your eyelid, disregarding the way your boyfriend’s jaw nearly drops at the sheer audacity ?? how dare anyone, much less his own lover, disregard his presence ????

kaiser’s frown deepens as he opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it as he begrudgingly sits on the side of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. he crosses his arms, biceps flexing visibly below his rolled sleeves that were just a tad too tight. from the corner of his eye, he can see you uncapping a tube, recognising it as the rouge hérmes lipstick he gifted to you not too long ago. the wine red sheen makes your lips especially ravishing, and he has to tear his gaze away before he gives in to his desires to kiss you until you can’t think. not after that stunt you pulled !!

kaiser purposely avoids your gaze as you walk towards him, glancing to the side and keeping his arms crossed as you climb into his lap. “kaiser,” your voice is a teasing lilt, and kaiser turns his head away from you, powered by pure spite and pettiness. “michael,” voice dropping to a saccharine sweetness, and usually this would do the trick. but kaiser seems hellbent on teaching you a lesson today. and so he continues to glance away from you, bottom lip jutting out adorably.

your lips curve down into a pout, pulling out all the stops. your pointer tips his chin towards you, sultry voice akin to dripping honey as you call out a “darling ?” you can see the way his adam’s apple bobs as heat rises from his neck, flushed face and all. finally, he turns towards you, still futilely trying to evade your gaze.

“ja? mmh-!” he is cut off by the press of your lips against his, jolting from the sudden kiss. you don’t think you’ve ever heard kaiser whimper as he shakily snakes his hands around your waist and behind your head, melting further into you. his tongue licks at your lips as you part breathlessly, desperate for more. his lips are stained a delicious red, and you’re sure that your mouth, too, is awfully smudged by that gorgeous carmine. his chest rises up and down unsteadily, pupils dilated and blown wide.

“you-“ you pay no mind at his protests, swiping on another layer of lipstick as you end whatever he was about to say with another kiss on the corner of his lips. then on his cheek; down his neck, the tip of his nose; he shivers at every touch of your lips, and if someone were to walk in, they’d think you were bullying the mighty emperor with the way he was shaking, a wild flush on his face.

you giggle as you admire your finished masterpiece, red kiss marks littered all over his face and down the dip of his half-buttoned shirt. he looks dazed, sharp blue eyes unusually cloudy. you take a glance down at his patek philippe 1915 watch. “hey, we’re gonna be late.” suddenly, you’re hauled back onto his lap, his grip on your waist tighter than ever. his gaze is electrifying, staring with a certain vivacity you’ve only seen him have on field. “again,” he whispers, eyes lidded as he brushes his lips against yours. “wait- kaiser!”

he is practically feral, leaning down and bending you back that you would fall if it wasn’t for his unwavering grip at your waist. a kiss at the side of your lips, against your mouth again, and repeat. “mmh- enough, ‘s too much-” you whine tiredly, hitting his back in vain. “too much? ” a mocking smile forms on his face. “im just getting started.”

[boredzillenial]

Sweet Relief

Laurent finds you during a difficult time of the month, he wants to help you feel better.

Themes: period sex, f!reader, reader has rough periods, fingering, pinv, a silly amount of whimpering, praise kink in full swing

Word Count: 1.1K

A.N.: this was fully self indulgent while my own uterus was trying to kill me, hope y’all can indulge as well 😘 special thank you to @ominoose for the beta read & encouragement 🥰

You were used to Laurent visiting you almost every night. But it’d been a couple weeks without a word… Worry gnawed at your gut along with wave after wave of pain. Menstruation had never been easy for you and it appeared this month would be no different.

You laid in bed, body too drained of energy to stand let alone work in the shoppe below. Another washed over your stomach and lower back as you heard footsteps approaching the door.

“I already told you I can’t work today.” Your shout twisted to a whimper. A gentle knock wrapped against the wood. “I said -“ your wrecked shout cut short as your gaze landed in the figure in the doorway. “Laurent…”

“Don’t worry I snuck in through the back.” He offered a soft smile as he locked your bedroom door. “Thought this may help.” He set a paper bag down on the edge of the bed.

You shuffled forward with a groan and opened it, “Yarrow… where did you-“

“At the market, though I think the woman who sold it to me was a witch.” He grimaced for a moment before he smirked. “Figured a lock of my hair was a fair trade, she wouldn’t do anything weird with it do you think?” His smirk turned to a grin as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“Laurent what if-“ you started to protest before he leaned in again, ending your objection with the soft press of his lips.

“They don’t know I’m here. We’re fine.” He nuzzled your nose with his as he whispered against your lips. “The shoppe is very busy, lots of customers, lots of noise…” his voice trailed off as he kissed down your neck.

“Laurent, please I can’t.” You mewled despite leaning back and uncurling yourself. “It hurts.”

He adjusted, hovering his body over yours “Let me help.” He whispered against your neck as his kisses trailed back up to your lips. A groan grew in your throat, another wave of discomfort washed over. Laurent swallowed the sound slowly, tenderly. “Just trust me.”

You nodded against his lips and laid back fully against the mattress. “Sorry for the -“

“Do not,” Laurent’s voice was low and stern, “don’t you dare apologize.” He nipped your lip and slowly grazed his hand down your stomach, sliding beneath your undergarments.

His fingers circled your clit softly, pulling a whimper from you. “How’s that?” He murmured, you bit your lip and nodded in response. He leaned forward and slotted his mouth against yours again as his touch grew rougher against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

He swallowed another one of your pitiful sounds with a smile as you reached for his wrist. “Ah my love please-“ he shook his head and dipped his tongue into your mouth as his pace quickened. Before you knew it you reached your peak as you clung onto him. The euphoria washed away the painful grip your uterus held you in. “Thank you, thank you.” You groaned as you reveled in the relief.

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not finished with you.” He nipped your lip with a mischievous grin as he pulled away. He picked through the pile of spare linens you had stored away for your monthly intrusion and wiped his hand clean. He picked through again and grabbed a dark thick towel, “Lift.” He instructed softly as he laid the towel under you. “Now undress…”

Anxiety roiled in your gut while you removed your garments and laid bare before him. “I’m already a mess, if we get caught…”

“We won’t - the door is locked, the shoppe is busy, and you’ve plenty of linen for us to clean up after.” He smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head, the light from your window highlighting his toned tan chest. “You my dear, are out of excuses.” His trousers dropped with a soft thud.

You sighed, he had a talent with removing your feeble reasoning. He always had from the moment you met and he made his first advances. In all the nights you’ve spent tangled together the sight of him throbbing for you never ceased to excite you.

“Now just let me do the work, I intend to draw as much pleasure from you as you can take.“ he shifted onto the bed, lining up his fat tip with your soaked folds. “Deep breath darling.” He coos as he sunk slowly into you. You winced at the stretch of him as the pleasure from your first orgasm faded and pain crept back into your belly. “I know I know, you’re doing so well.” He encouraged as he sunk to the hilt and pressed his body against yours. “I’m sorry I’ve been away - fuck, you’ve gotten so tight.” He groaned.

Your soft whimpers filled his ears as he slowly rolled his hips. “Shhh shhh, just breathe.” He sunk as deep as he could go, his soft curls pressed against your clit. He kissed across your neck and shoulder as his hips churned.

You pressed your lips against his shoulder to stifle a groan. Another wave of pain mixed with the pleasure building from his fluid motions. The fullness of having him fully seated along with the curls along his pelvis pressed against your clit sent you reeling.

You arched, your body plastered against his as he continued his motions. He smiled down at you and quickened his pace. His forehead against yours, carefully watching for any serious signs of pain. “How’s this.” His murmured and pressed harder against you.

Your brow furrowed as you held his gaze. “Good, so good.” You whimpered, the pleasure the pressure brought overwhelmed all other sensations in your exhausted body.

His tender gaze remained locked on every expression as he continued to chase away your pain. “Cum for me darling. I need you to feel good again.” He panted.

That familiar pressure built in your belly as his thrusts continued. His embrace tightened as he felt you tighten. “That’s it, right there.” His hand snaked up behind your neck. You hadn’t realized what his aim was until your climax washed over you, instinctively you bit down on his shoulder. He winced and hissed against the pain but the feeling of your channel fluttering around him sent him over the edge.

There you laid together, whimpering, sweaty, smiling messes as the afterglow washed over. You spent the rest of the afternoon like that. You, handling the waves of pain as best you could. And Laurent, doing his best to take your mind off them with mischievous smiles, his hands, and his cock.

—————-

Y’all I am SO SORRY this took so long to put out but I hope y’all enjoyed it!

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[nu11lar]

𝓢 uggestive content ◞ mdni !

"stick out your tounge," his thumb tapped your chin gently, index finger raising your head up slightly to meet his eyes. the afterglow from constantly kissing your lips awakened something to rindou, his bony and slender fingers now cupping your puffed cheeks. the cold metal of his rings made your body jolt and shiver from the sudden movement, giving your cheeks a light squeeze, your lips puckered up before you slightly stuck your tounge out. revealing the tip of your tounge to his view as he amusingly chuckled,"more, stick it out more." his voice was firm but you could hear just a little amount of gentleness being present to his tone.

you obeyed, sticking out your tounge more until your mouth was fully agape,"good girl." licking his lips, he harshly (almost aggressively) smashed his lips against yours in a hungry manner. even though he already suffocated you with his previous kisses, it never failed him to become more eager and anticipated to give another taste of your sweet lips. with a surprised moan he pushes your body against the stiff mattress of the bed, his hands finally having the chance to touch you all over again.

he absolutely adores the way you just helplessly give your submission to him. knowing that he's the one who can make you feel this way, and the one that's always in control during foreplay and during sex.

his fingers trail along the way to your hips, squeezing them lightly as the kisses intensified. his tounge rubbing against yours, intertwining together and twirling against eachother like a whirlpool. his eyes are half opened, pupils dilating as he takes in your struggling but pleasurable reactions to the kiss. with a bold move, his hands slip under you pleated skirt, his fingers almost within the reach to feel the cotton fabric of your panties. a gasp hitched your throat, body jolting from surprise as rindou chuckled softly against your mouth. his fingers teased the hem of your underwear, brushing through the tiny bow that was placed in the middle of your panties.

words cannot describe how much he wants to remove (or rather rip) your panties off and just have his way with your pussy throughout this entire night. he can wait but he also couldn't, not when your reactions are this cute and... so pathetic to him. your reactions were evident that you were enjoying this, muttering "more" against his lips like a needy slut. after a few more harsh pecks, he withdraws from your lips and immediately goes down to your neck,"i want to fuck you," his hot breath hitting against your skin, making your body shiver from the close contact,"wanna ruin this pretty face..." he huffed, hips dryly bucking against yours in almost a desperate movement,"fuck..." he whispers against your jaw, his eyebrows furrowing from how aroused he feels.

"you're driving me wild." he admits, he has never felt so turned on in his life. you were the first girl he can imagine fucking for the rest of his life.

your legs managed to wrap around his waist, his fingers entangled in the hem of your panties. his mind wanting to strip away all your clothes and fuck you like he misses you,"you know i love you, hm?" he snuggled more against the crook of your neck, his nose taking in the sweet and alluring scent of your yves saint laurent black opium perfume, paired with other scents such as the almond butter body cream,"m' never gonna feel the same way for anyone else, got that?" rindou's actions were way different than his words, he was saying such sweet things all the while he was devouring your body like a five course meal.

he couldn't wait any longer, pulling away from your neck he looks down to see how much he's marked you up recently. he wasn't ashamed nor did he regret doing all of this, he is yours, and you're his, nothing in between. an airy chuckle filled in your ears as his hands finally left your lower part of your body, now his hands sensually going up to your torso, feeling every inch of his palm and fingers turned you on (again). his calloused hands made its way to your clothed breasts, squeezing, fondling, and kneading them like a stress toy.

"what am i to you?" you whispered softly, causing rindou's ears to perk up from the sudden question. it almost made him laugh, what were you to him? what a dumb question,"you're my girl silly." a lazy grin curled up his lips, giving your breasts another squeeze,"want me to show you a different way pretty?" oh that made you wet instantly, vigorously biting down your lower lip you nodded hesitantly, making rindou sneer at your reaction. his hands moved to where his belt located, slowly but almost eagerly unbuckling his belt as the both of you await for what is about to come next.

with a sharp cling being heard from his santos de cartier belt, you knew there's no going back. looking down to see the poking bulge peek through his slacks, his lavander eyes remained glued to every expression that lands upon you. leaning down to press a little amount of his body weight against yours, rindou whispered in a raspy voice,"close your eyes, don't think about anything else okay?" all he was received was a simple nod from you, showing that you understand on what he wanted you to do for him.

you and rindou had one thing in common, you were both crazy about eachother.

[rainbowwinedemon]

joukai fucking in costume 👀

sjsjsjs i hope this fits what you wanted. it’s a bit silly, and kinda messy, but it was really fun to write.

i don’t know if they ditched the party or if they never made it in the first place. you can chose which one you like the most

nsfw under the cut

“Why are you pants so fucking hard to take off?” Jounouchi grunts, giving up and unbuckling the belt, mouth twisted around the prosthetic and scoffing at Seto’s raised eyebrow. “What? These are supposed to be stripper pants.”

Jounouchi yanks the pants, hoping to hear a tear. Of course, the cloth stays firmly put together, with Seto giving him that ‘you’re stupid’ look.

“These are custom made Saint Laurent,” Seto says, lifting a leg when Jounouchi taps his thigh so he can get to work on unfasting his sock gathers. Really, he’s lucky to have such nice legs, Jounouchi wouldn’t put up with him otherwise. “Do you really think I’d put on cheap costume?”

Jounouchi drops the gathers on the bed and shuffles forward, sitting on his knees between Seto’s splayed legs. He’s propped on some pillows, hair spilled around, the careful slick back style he had for the party messed up. His lips are still a bit pinkish and tender, from Jounouchi kissing him earlier without taking the prosthetic teeth out. Jounochi leans forward, resting his hands at each side of his head, caging him in. Seto gives him an unamused look.

“You’re expensive as fuck costume was still bland shit,” Jounouchi says, and hooks his fingers on the waistband of equally expensive boxers brief. “Who were you supposed to be? Dracula’s pompous cousin?”

Jounouchi is way less gentle with the briefs than when the pants, making Seto yelp when he takes them off. He gives him a shit-eating grin, placing a hand high up on Seto’s thigh and brushing his cock with the tip of his fingers. Seto kicks him on the side, lightly, and Jounouchi wraps his hand loosely around him and starts stroking.

“I’m Dracula,” he says, sinking into the pillows when Jounouchi moves his hand faster. “I’m wearing customized archive Saint Laurent, it doesn’t get more in character than that.”

Jounouchi tightens his grip, Seto’s precum malik the slide easier. He leans forward and takes his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling on it and making sure Seto can feel the slight sting from the prosthetics.

“Still bland though,” he quips, chuckling when Seto tries to protest but it gets stuck in his throat because Jounouchi swipes his thumb over the head of his cock.

“And what were you supposed to be?” Seto asks, once he catches his breath. “The neighbors’ generic dog?”

“Excuse you?” Jounouchi pushes forward, spreads Seto’s legs wider. Seto moans in approval. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Still a dog, though.”

Jounouchi plans on keep arguing —there’s a big difference between a dog and werewolf, thank you very much— but then his fingers slip downward, brushing Seto’s rim, and they find something very interesting.

“Uh,” he whistles, a leering grin spreading around his face. He rubs his fingers around the base, and it doesn’t seem to be wider than two of his fingers together. “A little surprise for me?”

Seto huffs, but he can’t help his moan when Jounouchi pressed the plug deeper into him before pulling it out. He’s flushed, cheeks rosy and the tip of his ears red when Jounouchi lifts his head.

“Not for you,” he says, managing to make it sound scornful even when Jounouchi sinks a finger into him. He’s soft and wet inside, still tight, but it’s nothing that his fingers and cock won’t solve. “I didn’t go through all this work for someone who calls my clothes bland.”

He’s so petty, Jounouchi thinks, getting another finger in and letting Seto move his hips at the rhythm his wants. Of course his suit is not bland, Seto chose a maroon color that matches with Jounouchi torn-up and makes him look paler, blue eyes popping up. He looked gorgeous, when Jounouchi saw him before going to the party, but Jounochi won’t deny he wanted to see Seto in that tiny sailor skirt he has hidden in his closet.

(He told Seto about it, of course, and Seto just rolled his eyes and said he just wanted him to dress slutty. Which —yeah, it was true, but Jounochi didn’t wear a torn up shirt and a collar because just because he liked it. He did it because Seto asked)

But it doesn’t matter. Because yes, Seto is a bit of an asshole and he wore all those layers —suit, vest and a cape— but he also took his time, slicking himself up and putting on that plug. Jounouchi bites him lightly on his collarbone, letting the prosthetic teeth scrape him.

Seto slaps him on the arm.

“I’m supposed to be the vampire,” Seto wiggles on his fingers, and they slip out. Jounouchi takes the changes to pull out his cock and spit to slick himself up. Seto licks his lower lip. “Stop mauling me, or do I need to tighten up your collar, mutt?”

Jounochi grabs him by the hips, drags him down until his ass touches the tip of his cock. He presses the tip and grins. Seto rolls his eyes, but relaxed, wrapping his legs around his back.

Jounouchi’s smile widens.

“Please?”

[johnwickb1tsch]

Young!John Wick x Model!Reader Imagine

masterlist

deux

-Nearly a year goes by before you meet again in a club in London. You are celebrating Sebastiano’s sold-out Spring collection with some friends when he appears at your side by the railing overlooking the dance floor. You were wearing a crimson red slip dress by Yves Saint Laurent. He gets your attention by running his fingers ever so lightly down your bare spine. You’ve had a few drinks, and when you turn to see it’s him you are too overjoyed to play it cool. You mould yourself against him, and he happily folds you into his arms. Everyone else in the room melts away when your lips touch his. “I missed you.”

Your career did take off after that fateful week in Paris. Your face can be seen on ads for everything from makeup to clothing and sexy underthings. You’ve met so many people and gone so many places in this whirlwind of a year, but you never forgot about your tall dark stranger from Paris, and you never stopped longing for him.

“Likewise,” he tells you with a close-lipped smile that still brings a melting warmth to his dark eyes. You convince him to dance a little with you before you retreat to a dark booth in the corner to make out. You wish you could blame the drinks, but you know you are just absolutely drunk on him, his soft lips on your mouth and your skin. His hair has grown longer, and you love grabbing fistfuls of it as you kiss. It does not even occur to you to protest when his hand slides under your skirt, pushing your panties aside to slip his long fingers inside you, his thumb on your clit bringing you to paradise. You moan your pleasure into his mouth, and you feel his lips curve in a smile against yours.

“You are so beautiful, y/n.”

You hear that a lot. It’s kind of your job, after all. It’s never meant so much to you, as when he says it to you.

You reach for his belt, as though you aren’t in a public venue, desperate to touch him. But he catches your hands in his, dwarfing your little mitts in his calloused ones. “Where are you staying?” he asks.

“The Ritz.” You’ve moved up a bit in the world.

“Can I meet you there in an hour?”

For a moment you’re confused. “You want me to leave?”

He nods, looking around the room. There is something sharp in his gaze now. Something almost predatory. “You should.”

“Why?”

“Please? For me?”

“Okay…”

You do as he asks, because the thought of having him all to yourself in your ridiculously opulent hotel room is far more appealing than the crowded too-loud club. But in the back of your mind you know there’s something off.

There’s a knock on your door exactly at the hour. You pause for a long moment to look at him in the doorway, so tall and darkly handsome, his high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes that are filled with a smoldering warmth just for you. Greedily you pull him into the room, your trepidation forgotten. But there’s a speck of something red on the front of his stark white shirt. Before you can examine it further he literally sweeps you off your feet. “What would you say to a bubble bath?”

You think it’s a fine idea.

-Six months later you see John again in Rome, at a party with Sebastiano at the villa of an insanely rich Italian family. The D’Antonios, you think is their name? The elder sister, Gianna, loves Seb’s designs and buys a lot of his pieces. You’re not entirely sure how they made their money. Imports, is the party line. You are learning in this world of high-powered people that’s code for don’t ask. There’s no room to worry about such things in the fashion world. Seb makes clothes for People With Money, and he says it’s not his job to worry about how they got it. You are still naïve enough in all your youth that that is good enough for you.

A proud young man is trying to chat you up on the balcony overlooking a magnificent garden. He claims he’s the descendent of Italian nobility. This is vaguely interesting to you, but he melts away entirely when you spy a familiar set of broad black-clad shoulders making their way through the crowd.

John brings you a glass of Prosecco, fixing the young Conte with a hard look. This is a side of John you’ve never really seen before, the rules of the jungle at play, and it seems your erstwhile lover may sit at the top of the food chain. Your suitor scurries off with a frightened look and some mumbled excuses, leaving you alone with John. When he looks at you it’s as though a switch has flipped, a roguish heat filling his dark eyes.

He hasn’t even touched you, and already your panties are drenched.

This time you manage not to lose your cool at the sight of him. “Fancy seeing you here.” You’re almost not surprised. He pays you a smile, though there is a tension in the corners of his eyes you don’t entirely understand. It isn’t long before you slip away to a room upstairs, a high-ceilinged bedroom painted with pastel frescoes of chubby putti fluttering on the ceiling. You can’t help but feel like they’re watching you as John pushes your black lace skirt by Dolce and Gabbana up your thighs, and takes you to heaven with his wickedly clever tongue.

You manage not to say it aloud, somehow, but you know as you curl against his muscled chest in the quiet afterwards that you are in love with this man.

“What happened?” you ask as you trace a long scar over the ripples of his abdomen. You can tell it was a serious wound, and the thought of him hurt like that sends ice through your veins, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. It must have taken some time to heal. Did it hurt? Had he been all alone?

“I had an accident,” he sighs, bringing your hand to his lips.

“It looks like it was painful.”

“Yeah.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, so you let it go, pressing your lips to the top of the scar in a gesture meant to soothe yourself as much as him. It’s fine. He’s fine. He is warm, and solid flesh beneath your lips, and he always comes back to you. “Poor baby.” He moans as you make your way down, tracing the raised tissue with your tongue. His fingers slide into your hair as the velvety tip of his now erect manhood brushes your chin. You take him into your mouth, circling the swollen head with your tongue, and his big hands clench in your hair.

“Fuck, y/n.”

Maybe you’re no good at getting him to talk about his life, but at least in this area you can make him come completely undone for you. It makes you feel powerful, and even if you know it’s an illusion, it’s all you have.

Later you snuggle into the warm bend of his neck, brushing your nose against the soft scruff of his beard. He holds you close with strong arms, newly marked with fresh ink on his shoulder. You don’t quite get up the courage to ask what the cross means.

You don’t take him for a religious man.  

-Later you’re sitting with your friend by the pool, painting your toenails. “Where did you disappear to last night?” 

���I left with someone,” you answer vaguely. 

“I hope your hookup was better than mine. I would sacrifice a goat to find one man who knows where my fucking clitoris is.”

You press your lips, thinking about your scintillating evening with John, and the way he somehow took exactly what he wanted, but brought you to heights of pleasure you never knew existed before him. You shudder with the memory, lost in your own world for a few long seconds. Later you realize she is watching you. “Jesus, y/n. That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

“Are you going to see him again?” she asks slyly. 

You shrug, because you want to, but don't know how. This is the third time you've trysted with this man, and you still have no way of contacting him. You wonder if this is the way it will always be…

-This goes on for years. In Paris and New York, Milan and Madrid, Oslo and LA he makes love to you before disappearing again. As usual, you are left with more questions than answers, but the tenderness in your kiss-swollen lips and the ache between your thighs keeps you from demanding to know where he goes in the agonizing interim between. In a way, in the very back dungeon of your mind, you already know. You take an accounting of his new scars with your lips and your tongue every time you see him. Always, they multiply, and you have watched as a certain hardness settles over his features, that only softens for you. You're not stupid, despite the stereo types about your profession. But that man... you would follow him to hell itself, if he offered you his hand. 

-Luckily you have plenty to keep you busy. You’ve started taking photos more than being on the other side of the lens, and your work is well-received. You know that your initial fame and the public’s fascination with you helps that along, but hey. That’s just the game, and you’ve learned to play it well.

-Then, an entire year goes by without seeing hide nor hair of John. In the early days of your acquaintance you can’t say you were exactly celibate, but over the years you lost interest in any one’s arms but his. Not seeing him for so long hurts like a blade twisting between your ribs.

It’s always been up to him when you meet up, but this time you decide to take things into your own hands...

---------------------------

&lt;<PART 1 PART 3>>

[deadgirlsnoring]

THE ONLY ONE FOR ME | DR. SPENCER REID

Summary; When Spencer ‘accidentally’ flirted with another girl, you weren’t exactly thrilled.

Contents; P in V, humiliation, no protection used, begging, slight crying, black reader, reader has female anatomy, little bit mean reader, sub!spence, reader uses she/her pronouns, tiny blood kink, overstimulation.

“I didn’t even know! I- I was just talking back. You know, making conversation?” She crossed her arms, annoyance laced in her face.

“No, Spencer. I don’t know.” He pouted, staring up at her. The boy was sitting down on the edge of their shared bed, while Y/n stood over him.

“Do you really not know what she was doing? She rubbed your arm Spence! Why would she do that in a friendly matter?”

He tried to make words come out but it really was no use, her mind was already set.

“You want her don’t you? I saw the way your cheeks blushed, the way your eyes lit up. Leave.” Pointing towards the door.

“No! No.” He stood up quickly but shortly sat down due to the stare Y/n give him.

Spencer was a good boy. He waited til she was done talking to let his words through, even though he really wanted to interrupt her. Knowing it made her upset, also made him upset and he really wanted to prevent that.

“70% of people associated feelings of embarrassment or discomfort with receiving a compliment. S-So I couldn’t help but blush, you know I always get flustered, I’m not used to compliments Y/n.” She huffed, that she knew.

He kept on rambling, following her around the room with his eyes while she walked in circles. Y/n was removing her clothing, well; except her heels.

They were white Saint LAURENT Opyum heels. She liked designer, and if she could afford it, what’s the issue?

Spencer liked when she kept her heels on, and even though he was still taller than her, Y/n made him feel small.

“Wha- What are you doing?” Clicking her tongue, she shook her head, “I don’t know, you’re the profiler. You tell me Doctor Spencer Reid.”

The way she said his name made him shiver. “Stop. Please?” He sounded so cute, made her heart beat 10 times faster.

She got off her two piece, left in her white bra, along with the matching panties. A shaky breath left his mouth, he liked white. Y/n was teasing him, it’s like she planned for him to be flustered by a random girl.

Just to get him where they are now.

“I like when you beg, but how can I stop when I haven’t even touched you?”

Her hands fell on either side of his thighs, their noses almost touching. She could hear his heartbeat, made her giggle.

“What’s f-funny?” She licked her lips, “Oh nothing, just how hard you are under those jeans. You wanna feel some relief, yeah?”

Nodding his head frantically, he bit down on his lip, hard enough she knows it’ll leave a mark.

“But you just told me to stop.” Faking sadness with a pout, she brushed her nose against the tip of his. A whine slipped from his lips, so she connected their lips.

They moved together in sync, until she massaged her freshly manicured nails against his bulge. Y/n was going too slow, and even though his hips rutted against her hands, it just wasn’t enough.

“Please.” He mumbled against her lips. Hoping that since she smiled into the kiss, she would go easy on him.

So she waited, and waited. Until he realized that she wasn’t gonna go easy on him at all.

Slowly removing his left hand from the bed, he held the hand that was against his bulge and controlled her speed. Y/n was shocked, Reid wasn’t into being control at all, he really was needy for release.

Pulling away for air, she giggled loudly when he tried to chase her lips. “Slow your roll little guy, why are you in a rush?”

Y/n pulled her hand away a little as a tease, her brows raising when he kept her hand in place, applying slight pleasure to his covered cock.

“Please don’t go.” Tilting her head to the side she tangled her fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp. When he moaned quietly, she stopped. A pout left plastered on his face.

“If you want something, I want you to say it straight up. No shortcuts Spence.” The man unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down so they flooded around his feet.

He looked up at her hoping it was enough, it’s like he couldn’t say stuff like that. Came out too nerdy and scientific.

Bending down into a squat, she brought both her hands up to massage his thighs, nowhere near where he wanted. “You want me to make you cum?” She cooed, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

“Yes! Mhm, please?” Y/n nodded, tugging his boxers down, he helped too. Lifting up his hips so it was easier.

So needy, he was.

When his dick hit his pale chest and was met with the cold air, he felt a shiver go through his whole body.

Neck hairs stood up in anticipation, she always made him guess what she was gonna do next. Always turning out to be better than what he imagined.

She licked a long stripe from the base of his cock towards the tip, bringing it into her mouth for a long suck.

“Mmf- I’m sorry, so s-sorry.” She let go out of it with a pop sound, licking her lips, “Sorry for what pumpkin?”

“Tal- Talking to her; responding, actually.” Y/n held the base with her right hand, clicking her tongue.

“Why you bringing her up, you want her do to this for you or something?” He shook his head fast, making her smile softly.

“Not at all, I- I want you only. You’re the only one for me Y/n, I won’t do it again. I’ll be good for you, promise.” Even during intimate times he always has to get it across to her that’s she’s the only one.

“I know baby, your dicks standing tall. Just for me, right?” Squeezing her hand, he thrusted up into it, a bright blush coating his face.

“Mhm momma, please just make it better. I’ll do anything.” Her brow rose, he didn’t know what he got himself into.

While her hand was squeezed around his base, the other was moving up and down. Almost too fast for Spencer.

He wasn’t gonna last that was for sure. He was always able to cum whenever unless told otherwise, and Y/n didn’t say anything.

She knew exactly when he was getting close, his chest grew heavier, and the boy would start to mumble words nobody could decipher.

So when that familiar knot in his stomach grew until it was about to unfold, he was gonna let loose. That was until she took her hands away.

“P- Please? Can I cum? Can you let me? I’ll be so good.” Standing up, she ordered him to get up higher on the bed, and that he did.

The look on his face was almost pornographic, the boy looked a mess. Messed up hair, flushed cheeks, and pink bruised lips.

“You want some help with that Doctor?” She touched his tip with her pointer finger, playing with his pre cum.

He couldn’t help but bite on his tongue, nodding so hard you would think his head would fall off.

“No please? Don’t be pathetic now. Where are your manners?” He shook his head, taking him outside his daze. His hair falling in front of his face.

“Please, can you help me? Need you so bad. I could cum right now.” Frowning, she sighed deeply, “I didn’t say you could though. You don’t listen to rules either?”

“I-I’ll listen to you! Wont cum, just.. please momma?”

Smirking, she seductively took off her panties, only added to the need he had to cum. Crawling up in between his legs like a man eater, she straddled him, ignoring his whines of annoyance.

Her wet folds went back and forth over his member, eliciting a shaky breath from Y/n. As she lifted up, his eyes fell down to the slick she left on him.

Y/n’s hands were on his shoulders, as the girl above him teased his tip. She would take him in, a choked moan escaping him, only to turn into a whimper when she lifted herself back up.

She wanted to build his tolerance, he was known for coming too quick.

Needed to train her boy.

“Oh please, am I not good? I deserve this, you. It hurts when you do that Y/n.” Holding his chin up with her right hand, “Why do you think that concerns me Spence, now shh. Can you do that?”

The grip on his chin was too harsh, he couldn’t talk. So he went for nodding instead. While he sunk down on his length, she leaned in for a kiss. His lips were plump, soft.

She bit down on his bottom lip, not letting go even when he whined and whimpered.

Not letting go until she tasted it, that tiniest bit of blood. Not only did Y/n taste that, she felt him. Felt him twitch inside her. The boy was so worried about the pain he didn’t even realize she bottomed out.

Pulling away with his blood on her lips she slowly licked them off, waiting for his reaction. His eyes were closed and when he opened them, they were glazed over.

“Pumpkin?” He hummed, his puppy eyes trailing up to hers.

“Whatcha think, yes or no?” Spencer smiled softly, his hands trailing to either side of her hips before nodding.

“Can you d-do it again?”

“Hmm, where?”

One of his hands lifted to point to his neck, before going back to its original place.

So she listened, slowly moving herself up and down on him while kissing and sucking on his neck. She didn’t wanna bite him again just yet.

Tangling her hands in this hair she lifted his head up to look at her, “You wanna cum?” He mumbled a yes, licking over where Y/n bit.

“M’close, so close. Please?” She smiled when she saw a tear, the way his voice sounded like he was holding back a buttload of tears.

“Doctor Reid wants to let loose huh? Bet it hurts so bad don’t it?” Pulling harshly on his hair he let out a sob, accompanied by a bunch of soft pleads.

“Hurts so bad momma, gonn—I’m begging you, can I? Please?” She made herself look like she was thinking about it, then clenched around him, throwing her head back.

“Close, I’m t-there. P-Please?” Shaking her head, a bright smile on her face, “Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

His eyes lit up, nodding. He was about to say something until she cut him off, “Then no cumming, shh.”

Her left hand scratched his pale chest, a line of red following. Y/n started nipping on his neck, before looking down at him.

“Cum whenever pumpkin.” Her teeth sinking into his skin. The boys eyes rolled back, his mouth wide open but no sound coming out.

He’d never waited this long for a nut, but the way it made him feel, he could wait longer next time.

She let his neck go, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, placing wet kisses along his jaw and chest.

When Spencer finished and came back to, Y/n was laid next to him. Her cunt filled with his mess.

The boy knew she didn’t cum, and he wanted to make it up to her; for what happened and the party.

Even though he was tired, he was never tired enough to eat her out. So he crawled towards her cunt, his hair messy and pink gloss kisses all over his face and body.

It was like he was in a dream, the way he snuggled in between her thighs, spreading them open just a little bit for more access.

Moaning at the taste of both of them combined, he whined into her when Y/n’s hands tangled Into his hair, tugging softly.

“You’re such a good boy.”

xoxo, liah

[winmance]

Big Brother Breakdown

Auguste is not homophobic.

He knows that having to say that probably indicates the contrary, but he is not. He was raised in a very open-minded family and he always had friends with sexualities that were different from his own.

The fact that he may be homophobic didn’t cross his mind until Laurent’s coming out.

Laurent is sixteen when he comes to see him and tells him that he’s gay. Auguste doesn’t make a big deal out of it because it’s not. It doesn’t change his feelings about his brother, or the way he sees him. Yet, he can’t help how his stomach clenches and his heart misses a beat when the words leave Laurent’s mouth. Because Auguste knows men. He knows how they will play with one feeling without a care in the world and he knows that they will hurt his brother. And so he takes Laurent in his arms and holds him close to his chest, before making him promise to be careful.

Laurent does, and after that life goes on and it’s five years of quietness before Auguste’s fears become real.

Laurent is twenty-one when he tells him he has a boyfriend. Auguste is in the kitchen, cooking them his famous lasagna when Laurent walks in and sits on the counter next to him. He immediately knows something is wrong but before he can say anything, Laurent talks.

“I have a boyfriend,” he says. “I, uh, it’s pretty serious. I want you to meet him.”

The béchamel starts to burn but Auguste doesn’t even notice.

“What?”

“I invited him to Jord’s party next Friday. One of his friends also knows Jord and will be here so it won’t be weird.”

“What?”

Laurent rolls his eyes and gets down the counter. He removes the pan from the hob and throws the burned béchamel away. Auguste takes the time to look at him and he thinks he’s going to see a difference, but he doesn’t. Laurent still looks like the baby Auguste held for the first time twenty-one years ago. Yes, he’s taller and has more muscles but Auguste barely notices it. He thinks that Laurent looks so young because so far, his heart has not been broken. He has never dated anyone before, not once, he had told him so himself six months ago, when he mentioned going out with some friends to try and ‘meet someone”. Auguste had laughed. Laurent hates going out as much as he hates meeting new people, so he didn’t ask him any questions the days after.

“How long have you been dating?”

His brother stops his movement and bites his lips. A long time, then.

“We met six months ago so I… I guess we’ve been dating for almost that long.”

What does it mean? Does it mean they’ve kissed on the first date? Did they hold hands? Or does exchanging numbers count as dating? Auguste wants to ask but the thought of Laurent kissing someone makes him weirdly uncomfortable.

“I’ll order some pizza,” Laurent mumbles. “You should go refresh yourself. You look like you’re going to throw up.”

They don’t talk about it, yet Auguste wakes up every morning thinking about Laurent and that mysterious man. He didn’t think of asking for anything, not even a name, and now it seems too late to do so. Laurent has been acting cold with him, but Auguste is so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t feel like confronting him. He tries to think of every time Laurent has been going out those last six months, and he realizes that it’s a lot, compared to before. Laurent also seems more distracted, but he’s also been smiling more, especially when looking down at his phone. Auguste hadn’t thought of it, simply happy to see his brother so relaxed. He feels stupid. All the signs were there, but he pretended not to see them. Hell, there were even some nights when Laurent didn’t come home, pretending to sleep at a friend’s house, which mean s…

“Are you alright?”

Nikandros’ voice takes him back to reality. He’s in the open space and his colleague is looking at him weirdly. They’ve been coworkers for shy of one year and they do get along, but Auguste wouldn’t call them friends either. They share lunch, most of the time in silence, and they’ve exchanged a couple of texts here and here. They went out for a drink two times, and it was during one of those that Nikandros mentioned his friend being with a man.

“You have a gay friend, don’t you?”

It’s not the right thing to say. Nikandros’ face does a weird thing, like he’s about to insult Auguste which , yes, fair enough.

“My brother is gay,” he tries to defend himself. “I don’t - I had gay friends but we never talked about sex or that kind of stuff. Not because they’re gay, just becaus e… I don’t know. It’s not the kind of conversation I have with my friends.”

“Uh. Ok?”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Talk about sex with your friend.”

Nikandros looks at him like he’s gone crazy which may be the case. But it’s already Thursday, which means that tomorrow, he will be meeting that stranger who pretends to be good enough for his baby. He needs to get himself ready, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

“I do, yes.”

“What does he say? What is gay sex like?”

“Well, first of all, my best mate Damen, he’s bi, not gay. He told m e… Well, according to him, sex with men is really different. They’re like , more rough and stuff.”

“Rough?” Auguste repeats, his breathing becoming more agitated.

“Yeah. And they do more kinky stuff. Well, he didn’t say that but we all know that.”

“But does it - does it hurt?”

Nikandros looks around them and once he’s sure no one is there, he gets closer to Auguste and starts whispering.

“ Once I was with a girl and she put a finger in my ass. It hurt like hell, so can you imagine a dick? It’s lik e… It’s like taking a shit but reversed! I bet there’s blood sometimes.”

“Blood,” Auguste repeats again, his vision going white.

He can’t let Laurent do that. He can’t let him hurt himself like that! And Laurent has always suffered from constipation. Is anal sex really a good idea? He doesn’t think so. It’s dangerous. So dangerous.

“And I tell you, my friend Damen? I’m sorry for every woman and man who slept with him because his dick is huge .”

Auguste hopes to never cross paths with that man. He hopes Laurent never crosses paths with him.

“You’ll see him at Jord’s party tomorrow. I invited him.”

“Great,” Auguste says, not an ounce of truth behind his words. “Is he single?”

“You want him to meet your brother?”

“I rather die. With all due respect, of course. And my brother already has a boyfriend.”

“Damen does too! But I’ll tell you, I would like it better if he was dating your brother. His new boyfriend is such a bitch. I haven’t met him yet, but Damen is over the moon with him when the guy still hasn’t agreed to meet us! They’ve been dating for months but Damen hasn’t even done so much as show me a picture. Yet the dude has no issue leaving his stuff at his place, ordering food from his phone, asking him to come home before a certain hour, and all that shit. I’m telling you, he sounds toxic as hell.”

“He sounds like a nightmare! You think it’s serious between them?”

“Hell yeah. I was at Damen’s place last week and I saw a paper that I was not supposed to see.”

“Oh?”

“He got tested for sexual shit. This means they’ve been doing it raw and let me tell you that Damen doesn’t usually do that. I bet his boyfriend has a breeding kink or something like that.”

“A breeding king?”

“Yeah, you know like , he likes Damen to… uh… Split inside of him? And that’s not all! I accidentally opened one of Damen’s bedroom drawer-”

“Accidentally?”

Nikandros makes an angry noise with his mouth and waves his hand.

“Anyway, he has four or five different dildos? Which is insane and I know they weren’t here before! I’m telling you, his new boyfriend holds him by the balls.”

“Shit. That’s crazy dude . My Laurent isn’t like that. I don’t even think he’s being intimate. O r… Well, maybe, but not like that. He’s very vanilla stuff.”

“I hope so. One of those dildos was so -”

“Auguste, Nikandros, I would appreciate it if you keep your… private conversation for after work, please.”

Their boss is standing in front of them, her arms crossed around her chest and Auguste can see a few of their colleagues trying not to laugh . Right .

“Sorry boss .”

He goes back to his work but can’t focus, not when he has so much new information to digest. He keeps thinking about Laurent and about how much he’s willing to sacrifice for a man that he barely knows. Auguste wishes he could take away all his pain and give it to himself instead, but he can’t. So, when he thinks no one is looking, he goes online and starts doing his research.

“How to make anal sex less painful?”

“What is the best lube for anal sex?”

“How do you prepare yourself for anal sex?”

“Can you die from anal sex?”

“Gay sex without penetration”

“How to tell your brother that he should stay a virgin”

“Am I homophobic if I don’t want my brother to have a boyfriend?”

Auguste is late to Jord’s party and it’s all because of Laurent. His brother texted him during the day that he would go directly to Jord’s party with his boyfriend, given that he had spent the night over, and Auguste couldn’t think of anything else all day long . So he makes mistakes at work, which means he has to stay later , and then he accidentally spits his coffee over his pants. Nikandros and he had planned to go to the party together but they have to change their plans and it’s almost eight when Auguste finally arrives at the bar.

There are a lot of people, which is surprising because Jord isn’t one to party hard, but not surprising when he learns Ancel has been the one organizing the whole thing.

It’s not difficult to spot Laurent through the crow , his golden hair always giving him away. But tonight is different because his eyes land first on Nikandros.

The first thing he notices is that Nikandros won’t meet his eyes.

The second thing is that Damen, Nikandros’ friend that he recognized because he saw his picture, is sitting next to him, his tongue deep into Laurent’s mouth, while his hand is resting on his thigh. They have not seen him yet and Auguste feels like his blood is boiling in his veins.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, after way too long.

It’s like breaking a magic charm: one moment they’re all but eating each other’s mouths, and the next not an inch of their bodies is touching anymore.

“Auguste. Laurent’s big brother,” he introduces himself, even if it’s not necessary.

When he gets up, Damen knocks a few drinks over and almost hits his head on the ceiling lamp. Saying that Damen is tall would be a euphemism, and suddenly Nikandros’ words come back to him. Instinctively, Auguste looks down at Damen’s pants.

“Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Damen has extended his hand for him to shake, but Auguste stays frozen. That same hand had been on his baby brother just a few seconds ago when Mister Big Dick was devouring him alive.

“Sorry about that,” Damen says after a moment. “We… Laurent was telling me that he passed his year and we got carried away.”

“You didn’t tell me you had your results.”

His tone is way more accusatory than he wanted it to be. Damen sits back down. If they were in a cartoon, there would be smoke coming out of Laurent’s ears with the way he’s looking at Auguste like he wants to kill him.

“I just got them today, Auguste. I wanted to wait and tell you in person. By the way, this is Damen. Even if you didn’t ask for his name.”

“I know his name,” he says, before pointing to Nikandros. “He’s my coworker. He told me lots and lots of things about him.”

Damen makes an awkward laugh and looks anxiously in Nikandros’ direction.

“Good things I hope?”

“Let’s drink, shall we?” Auguste says instead of answering the question.

Auguste doesn’t talk to Damen, but Damen does talk to him. He tells him he’s twenty-six (five years older than Laurent), that he has his own car (which Laurent doesn’t, which means that either Damen has been picking him up, or he’s making his brother take the bus to get to his place. The thought alone makes Auguste even angrier), and that he’s working for his father as a salesman in his insurance company (which means he’s a good liar). Damen talks, but Auguste observes him, too. He sees that Damen drinks easily , already being on his second beer when Auguste has barely touched his own. He also sees that Damen is tactile, always touching Laurent here and here, and even strangely, Laurent seems to like it, leaning into the touch whenever he can.

He can see his brother is happy, and that’s almost enough to make him forgive Damen for , well, existing. That’s it before one of Jord’s and Damen’s friends sits down next to him. He’s clearly drunk, enough to be a dick but not enough to be incoherent.

“So this is the new guy you were telling us about! Hell dude , he’s even sexier than you said!”

The man , that Auguste didn’t even bother remembering the name, winks grossly at Damen. To his credit, Damen does seem embarrassed, though not as much as Laurent who looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and never comes out.

This is what you chose? Auguste wants to ask him. This is who you think is worthy of you?

“I didn’t say sexy,” Damen tries to defend himself.

“So I’m not sexy?”

“Yes, yes, you are. But I didn’t use that word. I would never.”

The man spits the beer he was drinking all over his shirt.

“Since when?”

‘Since I love and respect Laurent? And I never used that word for anyone. Stop being a dick.”

“Yeah, yeah, maybe. Sorry. It’s just, it’s so new! I mean, six months? That gotta be a new record! You never keep them around for so long!”

“We were not meant for each other. Not the way Laurent and I are. We’re soulmates.”

He’s holding Laurent’s hand in his , doing little circles with his thumb on the back of it. He must have noticed how uncomfortable Laurent was and now he’s trying to calm him down which is - it’s nice. It is.

The man finally leaves and Ancel takes his spot. Because they haven’t seen each other in what seems like forever, they have a lot of catchup and Auguste can almost pretend not to see Damen kissing Laurent’s neck, or the way Laurent pushes his head back against him when Damen tries to stop. His brother has been drinking, far less than any of them of course, but still enough that he doesn’t mind being so intimate in front of everyone. It’s like discovering a new Laurent , one that Auguste didn’t even know existed.

“Why do you look at him like that?” Ancel asks.

“Uh? Who?”

“Damen.”

“I wasn’t looking. What do you mean like that ?”

“Like you want to take his head off. He’s making Laurent happy. Shouldn’t you be happy too?”

He should, yes. And he is. It’s just that this is all so new and Damen is jus t… Big and scary. Auguste has been wondering all night if he could take Damen down if they were to physically fight , and the fact that he can’t answer for sure doesn’t sit right with him.

“ Oh you’re like one of those moms, aren’t you?”

“What? What moms?”

“The ones that think no one is good enough for their perfect little boy and who lowkey want to date their sons.”

“I don’t want to date Laurent!”

“No, but you don’t want Laurent to love another man as much as you. It’s ok. Weird but ok. You’re an overprotective mom, that’s all.”

And that’s… Well, that’s true. Auguste has never thought of it, but outside of his brother’s pain, there’s been his own pain. Laurent had never been close to their parents, and so Auguste had taken both of their roles, loving him with every inch of his soul and body. Laurent has always looked up to him, as if Auguste was that kind of superhero, and their love for each other has always been so pure and so deep, that Auguste is scared that it will disappear now. That Laurent has found another man capable of giving him the stars and yet looking at him like he’s the whole sun.

He can see Damen loves him, with the way his eyes shine when he looks at Laurent. And he can see Laurent loves Damen, too.

“Oh, so your brother is better than me?” Damen says.

Auguste frowns and focuses on the discussion in front of him.

“Of course he is. Auguste makes the best hot chocolate ever. Yours is good, too, but not as good as his.”

And then Damen laughs, throwing his head back while he slides his arm around Laurent’s shoulders before kissing him on the forehead. Laurent’s face turns to a dark shade of red but he’s smiling, and Auguste feels that soft feeling in his chest again.

“I’ll teach you,” he says to Damen. “So you can do it right.”

“It’s not necessary,” Laurent says. He’s looking at Auguste now, his blue eyes staring directly at Auguste’s own. “You’ll always be here to make them for me, won’t you?”

“Always and forever.”

The rest of the night goes better. Auguste successfully exchanges more than two words with Damen, more for Laurent’s sake than anything else , and when it’s time to leave, he even mumbles something about having Damen over for dinner. Laurent, as expressive as ever, only smiles before kissing Damen on the cheek.

Because he has some self-preservation, Auguste goes outside and waits in the car for Laurent to finish his goodbye. When his brother comes back , his cheeks are red, his lips are swollen , and his eyes are shining with happiness.

“Do you like him, then?”

“We will see. He’s no t… Unpleasant. But Laurent, you need to be careful, alright? The stories I heard about him…”

“And about me?” Laurent challenges him. “I’m sure Nikandros had a lot to say about Damen’s new boyfriend, didn’t he?”

Auguste doesn’t answer but he gets Laurent’s point of view. Perhaps he shouldn’t take everything Nikandros tells him as the truth. When he sees that it won’t do him any good to try and talk Laurent out of this relationship, he starts the car and turns the music down.

“Oh no,” Laurent says.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re going to give me the talk, are you not?”

Laurent has always been too clever. He reads Auguste so easily that it’s hard to remember they’re not sharing the same brain sometimes.

“Is Damen your first… U h… First?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Laurent!”

“Oh my God, yes, he is. But it’s none of your business!”

“Alright, alright. I’m not gonna give you the talk , I jus t… I did some research that I would like to share with you.”

“Research?”

“So, lube: when is it too much? Never. You should use one whole bottle each time you have sex.”

“ Auguste shut the fuck up or I’m jumping from the car.”

“I locked the doors. I bought different brands, all water-based. It’s really important , Laurent stop trying to open the windows, you must use one that is good for your body.”

“I’ll not have sex with Damen if you stop talking.”

That, of course, shut Auguste down immediately. When he looks at Laurent, he’s looking back at him, a smile on his face.

“You’re happy for me, then?”

“Of course I am.”

He can see the tension leaving Laurent’s body and the way he finally seems to relax.

“Good. I thought you were homophobic for a moment. Got me really worried.”

"I'm not homophobic!"

[coffeedrgn87]

Midnight Reverie

The baths of Acquitart were utterly still at this late hour, the silence broken only by the occasional ripple of water or the soft echo of footsteps against polished stone. The air was thick with steam, curling lazily upwards and diffusing the dim light cast by the flickering oil lamps mounted on the walls. Shadows danced along the pale marble, soft and fluid, creating a space that felt timeless and secluded—a world set apart from everything beyond its doors.

Damen let out a slow breath as he stepped into the royal baths. The heat of the water rose to meet him like a welcome embrace, loosening the tension in his shoulders and coaxing his body to relax. His muscles, so accustomed to strain and exertion, seemed to sigh in relief.

Ahead of him, Laurent was already in the largest pool, his slender form barely visible through the haze of steam. The golden light softened the sharp angles of his face, but it did nothing to diminish the striking figure he cut even now, submerged up to his shoulders. His hair, usually so perfectly arranged, was damp and clinging to his skin in loose, curling strands. A few golden wisps framed his face, sticking to his flushed cheeks.

It was Laurent who had suggested this—no, insisted on it. Damen hadn’t been able to refuse. He rarely could when Laurent asked for something directly, and certainly not when Laurent had swept from the dining hall earlier with that inscrutable look in his eyes, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Are you going to stand there all night, or do I need to drag you in myself?” Laurent asked, his voice calm but carrying that familiar note of challenge.

Damen smiled, shaking his head as he stepped into the water. The heat lapped at his skin, and he lowered himself fully, the sensation both soothing and invigorating. “You wouldn’t dare,” he replied, his tone playful.

Laurent gave him a look—cool, imperious, and entirely unbothered. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The water shimmered around them, catching faint reflections of light. Damen settled into the pool, letting the warmth seep into his skin, but his attention kept drifting to Laurent. The heat had coloured his cheeks a faint pink, softening his usual sharpness. Damen found himself captivated by the sight of his hair, darkened and damp, clinging to his temples and the graceful curve of his neck.

He didn’t realise he was staring until Laurent turned his head, meeting his gaze directly.

“What?” Laurent asked, though his voice was quieter now, lacking the sharp edge it often carried.

“Nothing,” Damen said, his voice a touch too soft to be convincing.

Laurent arched an eyebrow but said nothing more, instead shifting slightly in the water. Damen couldn’t stop himself from following the movement, the way the light caught the droplets clinging to Laurent’s skin, the ripple of water as it slid over his collarbones.

“Come here,” Damen murmured, the words escaping before he’d fully thought them through.

For a moment, Laurent didn’t move. Then, slowly, he pushed off from where he was sitting, gliding through the water towards Damen. His movements were fluid, almost lazy, but there was something deliberate in the way his gaze held Damen’s, unflinching and unwavering.

When Laurent was close enough, Damen reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against the damp skin of Laurent’s cheek. Laurent didn’t pull away, his lips parting slightly as he studied Damen with a quiet intensity.

Damen leaned in, unable to resist any longer. The kiss was soft, almost tentative, the warmth of Laurent’s mouth a perfect contrast to the heat of the water. Laurent’s hands rose to rest lightly on Damen’s shoulders, his touch grounding and steadying.

When they pulled apart, Laurent’s cheeks were even more flushed, though Damen couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the steam. “You’re hopeless,” Laurent said, though there was no bite to the words—just the faintest hint of exasperated fondness.

Damen laughed, low and quiet, before pressing another kiss to Laurent’s temple.

After a while, they moved to the edge of the pool, where carafes of cool water had been left within reach. Laurent reached for one first, pouring a small stream over the back of his neck. The sudden contrast made him shiver, and Damen couldn’t help but grin at the rare sight of Laurent looking so unguarded.

“Do you have to look so pleased with yourself?” Laurent asked, his tone dry.

“Always,” Damen said, reaching for his own carafe.

It didn’t take long before the splashing started. Laurent had been the instigator, of course, a quick flick of water at Damen’s chest when he wasn’t expecting it. Damen retaliated immediately, sending a small arc of water over Laurent’s shoulder. What began as playful jabs escalated into a full battle, water flying as laughter echoed through the steamy air.

Eventually, they both relented, breathless and dripping, their hair clinging to their faces and their grins unshakable. Laurent shook his head, water droplets scattering, and Damen marvelled at the rare lightness in his expression.

They sank back into the pool after that, letting the heat soothe them once more. Damen swam a few strong strokes to the far end, enjoying the way the water seemed to hold and buoy him. When he turned back, he saw Laurent watching him.

It wasn’t a casual glance. Laurent’s gaze was steady, heated, and wholly focused, his blue eyes darkened in the dim light. It made Damen’s chest tighten, the air around him seeming to still.

He lifted a hand, beckoning Laurent to join him. Laurent didn’t swim; instead, he waded through the water with deliberate slowness, his movements measured and graceful. Damen thought he might go mad waiting, the anticipation a sweet, unbearable ache.

When Laurent finally reached him, Damen didn’t waste a moment. He caught Laurent’s wrist, pulling him close, and kissed him again. This time, there was nothing tentative about it—just the slow, steady burn of two people who knew exactly what they wanted.

Laurent sighed against him, his hands finding their place on Damen’s shoulders once more. And in that moment, with the steam rising around them and the warm water lapping at their skin, Damen thought there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Like One Of Your

Laurent LeClaire x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 7: Thigh Riding

Summary: Laurent wants to paint, but he gets distracted so easily.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

I'm just gonna gesture vaguely at this.

Warnings: kissing, thigh riding, Laurent being a little shit, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1202

 “A little to the left.” The smile in his voice is undeniable. 

“Laurent.” You turn your head back to face him, scowling, and he just chuckles.

“To the left.” He says, sweet as can be as he lightly touches your jaw and tilts your head back and to the side in the angle he requires. 

“This is ridiculous.” You repeat.

His laugh shakes you slightly from your position. 

“I need the light,” he repeats his pitiful excuse, “this spot is perfect.”

“And why do I have to be sitting on your lap while you paint?” 

“It’s not my lap, my love, it’s just one leg.” He tenses the muscle for emphasis.

“Laurent…”

He grins, leaning close and pressing his face to your neck and breathing deeply. “You only ever use my name when you’re annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.” You huff. 

“Hmm,” his voice rumbles in his chest pleasantly. “I like it, the tone it gives you.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Of course you do.” 

When he sits back, he’s beaming wickedly, “I need to be close so that I don’t strain my poor eyes.” He gestures to himself with the end of his dry paintbrush. He hasn’t even put his canvas on his easel yet. 

“You expect me to believe that?” 

“The truth?” He bats his large brown eyes at you, the image of innocence. 

You tut. “When have you ever told the truth?” 

“All the time?” He mock gasps, one hand to his chest. “You think when I profess my love to you I’m lying?”

“I think-”

“That when I tell you I would gouge out my own eyes if I couldn’t look upon your face ever again?” 

You can't help but laugh. “I think you’re dramatic. And,” he opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can speak. “And that you have a silver tongue,” You tap the tip of his nose lightly, “that you use to get your own way.”

He smirks. “Silver tongue is it?” 

You watch him as his smile grows, trying to work out what wickedness he has in store.

“How about I show you and you can see?” He pokes out his tongue quickly and dives for you, wrapping one arm around your waist so that you can’t completely escape.

You burst into a fit of giggles, pressing one hand against his chest, the other to his forehead to stop him from licking you. “Laurent!” 

“Alright, alright,” His grin doesn’t fade, but he moves back, settling into his seat. “I’ll behave, here look,” he picks up his canvas from the floor, still keeping one arm wrapped around you, and puts it on his easel. “I’m painting.” 

You slowly lower your hands. “Of course you are.” 

He smiles as he prepares his paints, making a bit of a show of it. After a few seconds you relax a little and move back into the position he’d asked of you, with your face turned towards the window. 

The quiet grows comfortable as he begins to paint, the minutes ticking by. Every so often he lets you know with a soft word that you can move and you stretch and wiggle, taking a sip of water from the glass next to you before you get back into position. 

You readjust yourself, rolling your shoulders ever so slightly as you sit, and Laurent lets out the smallest breath. 

The sound is a little above nothing, and perhaps you would have ignored it if his fingers on your hip hadn’t tightened, if he hadn’t pushed then pulled you closer a fraction. 

“Laurent-”

“Being this close to you is painful, you know that?” He mutters, his breath thick as he stares at the canvas. He’s pretending to paint, his brush not touching the surface. 

“Why?” You ask softly, recognising the slight flush of his cheeks, the thickness to his voice. 

“Because it is.” He bites his bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to…”

You stay quiet, giving him space to voice his desires. 

“I want to…” he swallows as he puts his paintbrush down and fully takes hold of your waist with both hands. He tilts your hips gently, making you arch toward him before he pushes you back an inch on his leg. 

You gasp, biting back a moan as the thick material of his trousers and warmth of his thigh run along your core. 

Laurent groans, watching your face in awe. “That’s it, that’s what I want.” 

He pulls you closer, angling you even more so that your clit fully rubs along him. 

You whimper, grabbing hold of his shoulders, “Laurent,” your voice comes out so weak and desperate. 

“Yes, that’s it,” he pushes you again, swallowing hard. “Move with me, my love, move with me, please.” 

You do as he asks, your body following his wishes on autopilot as you rock and rub against the strong muscle of his thigh. 

Pleasure sparks up your spine as your wetness seeps into your underwear making the drag against him all the more vivid.

You press your lips together, shuddering as he urges you to rock particularly slowly and firmly. 

He tuts, taking his hand away from you so that he can press his thumb against your mouth. “Ah, none of that,” he breathes hard, sounding almost as wanton as you. “Let me hear you.”

He leans close, practically breathing in your air, rolling his hips in time with you as he gets caught up in your pleasure. 

“You’re meant to be painting.” You pant.

“You’re meant to be coming.” He moans against your lips. “Want to see you, want to paint you in the throws of ecstasy.” 

You want to bite back at him with a sharp comment, but your mind has turned to mush. All your possible thoughts are consumed with how his body feels against yours.

Your fingers dig into his shirt, screwing up the fabric as you grind.

Your breathing comes out in short gasps, your legs shaking as your stomach muscles clench the closer you're pushed to the edge.

“Please,” falls from your lips in a whimper and Laurent groans desperately. 

“Please what, my love? Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll give you everything your heart desires.” 

You gasp, close to sobbing as he helps you to move faster, bliss so close that it colours the edge of your vision. 

“Oh, god,” Laurent groans, his voice deep and strained, “I could, could come like this, watching you, feeling how warm you are against my skin.” 

You whine, your back arching as his words push you over the edge. Pleasure runs through you as you ride out the wave.

You gasp out his name, collapsing into his waiting embrace, breathing heavily. 

He kisses your temple, holding you close as you recover from the strength of your orgasm. 

You can feel his erection straining against his trousers.

As you sit up, mouth open about to speak, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. He kisses you hungrily, slipping his tongue into your mouth and groaning when you reciprocate.

When you break away for air he grins, “I think we should see what other things this silver tongue of mine can do?”

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[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 19

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

He found he had put himself bodily in Guymar’s way. ‘No. No one goes in.’ Anger, irrationally, blossomed. Behind him was the closed door to the tower rooms, a barrier to disaster. Guymar should know better than to barge in and make Laurent’s mood worse. Guymar should have known better than to cause Laurent’s mood in the first place.

one kiss and he’s fully down bad. like these are max levels of damen down bad-ness. it took one kiss. holy shit dude. we went from “laurent knows everything and is always planning something terrible” to “you will NOT bother my poor little meow meow while he does his silent soliloquy”

‘This time, I want it actually kept clear. I don’t care who is about to get molested. No one is to come here. Is that understood?’ ‘Yes, Captain.’ Guymar bowed and retreated. Damen found himself with his hands braced on the stone crenellation, in unconscious echoing of Laurent’s pose, the line of Laurent’s back the last thing he had seen before he had put the heel of his palm to the door. His heart was pounding. He wanted to make a barrier that protected Laurent from anyone who would intrude on him. He’d keep that perimeter clear, if it meant stalking these battlements and patrolling it himself. He knew this about Laurent. That once he gave himself time alone to think, the control returned, reason won out. The part of him that didn’t want to drop Aimeric with a punch recognised that both Jord and Aimeric had just been put through the wringer. It was a mess that needn’t have happened. If they’d just—steered clear. Friends, Laurent had said, high on the battlements. Is that what we are? Damen’s hands drew into fists. Aimeric was an inveterate troublemaker with terrible timing.

this is so ridiculous damen you have laurent brainrot it is so funny how this has unlocked primal rage and determination in you that literal flogging couldn’t

but keep your head up king, this is the chapter where you get to smash

The idea of stopping, allowing himself a moment to think, was terrible. Outside, there was nothing, just the last hours of darkness, and the long ride in the dawn.

and no more laurent to smooch >:(

‘Watch over the Prince,’ he heard himself say. ‘Anything he needs, make certain he has it. Take care of him.’ He was aware of the incongruity of the words, of his hard grip on the soldier’s arm. When he tried to stop, his grip only tightened. ‘He deserves your loyalty.’

damen said “it’s MY turn on the projection”

His time as Laurent’s Captain had been short-lived. An afternoon. An evening. In that time they’d won a battle and taken a fort. It seemed wild and improbable, a hard-edged golden piece of metal in his hand.

also they’d kissed on the mouth. leaving out a pretty essential detail there damen

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Your servants brought me to the wrong rooms.’ ‘No, they didn’t,’ said Laurent.

pffft did they just know? i’m not sure when laurent could have asked them to do it. so they must have just assumed laurent wanted him there

‘I don’t want to talk about Aimeric,’ said Laurent. ‘Or my uncle.’ Laurent began to come forward.

uh laurent i don’t think damen mentioned the regent at all. i think you’re telling yourself to stop thinking about your uncle because you would like to fuck damen without ptsd making it weird

Laurent said, ‘I know you’re planning to leave tomorrow. You’re going to cross the border, and you’re not going to come back. Say it.’ ‘I—’ ‘Say it.’ ‘I’m going to leave tomorrow,’ said Damen, as steadily as he could. ‘I’m not going to come back.’ He drew in a breath that hurt his chest. ‘Laurent—’ ‘No, I don’t care. Tomorrow you leave. But you’re mine now. You’re still my slave tonight.’ Damen felt the words hit, but that was subsumed in the shock of Laurent’s hand on him, a push backwards. His legs hit the bed. The world tilted, bed silks and roseate light. He felt Laurent’s knee alongside his thigh, Laurent’s hand on his chest. ‘I—don’t—’ ‘I think you do,’ said Laurent.

laurent listened to “dead girl walking” from heathers musical on the way up to the rooms in preparation for this. also i love the mixed feelings here—on one hand, hell yeah laurent, let yourself have this, but also this is fucked up for you both, and you really should talk it out, and the fact that you’re demanding his abandonment before fucking him is concerning, like you only want to fuck if you know he’s leaving anyway, but i mean why not then, if he’s leaving, and you know he wants you, and this is the last night to do it…

also laurent knows damen wants this, and he’s not actually using the slave thing here. the only way he’s using it, is calling damen on what he said earlier that evening before the kissing. cashing in on it, in a way. it’s not exactly healthy but i wouldn’t say it’s like non-consensual or anything

‘What am I doing? You are not very observant.’ ‘You’re not yourself,’ said Damen. ‘And even if you were, you don’t do anything without a dozen motives.’ Laurent went very still, the soft words half bitter. ‘Don’t I? I must want something.’

ooof that hit a sore spot, i think. laurent very badly wants to both lose and take control right now, and sex is a way he’s both lost and had control in the past—lost control to the regent, and had it over damen back in arles. he’s trying not to think about that, about the reasons, and damen is trying to make him think about it, and also implying that laurent can’t just do anything because it’s what he wants or feels.

‘Laurent,’ he said. ‘You take liberties,’ said Laurent. ‘I never gave you permission to call me by my name.’ ‘Your Highness,’ said Damen, and the words twisted, wrong in his mouth. He needed to say, Don’t do this. But he couldn’t think past Laurent, improbably close. He felt each shifting inch that divided their bodies with a fluttering, illicit sensation at Laurent’s proximity. He closed his eyes against it, felt his body’s painful yearning. ‘I don’t think you want me. I think you just want me to feel this.’ ‘Then, feel it,’ said Laurent.

“i don’t think you want me, i think you just want me to feel this” is an INSANE and deeply true line. but also, i think laurent does want damen—HIS damen, not damianos. and this is the last night he can have his damen.

and maybe laurent enjoys your reactions, damen. ever think about that?

‘You liked this too, with Ancel.’ ‘That wasn’t Ancel,’ said Damen, the words coming out, raw and honest. ‘That was all you, and you know it.’

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rise and fall of Laurent’s hand was like the slide of Laurent’s words, like every frustrating argument that they’d ever had, stymied, tangled up in Laurent’s voice.

great line. love how it ties the sex act to something deeper between them

Laurent held his former mood within him, constrained, and converted into something else.

horny and angry is not the ideal way for them to fuck for the first time, and for laurent to fuck for the first time since [redacted], but since when has anything been ideal for laurent (or damen, as of book 1)

He felt Laurent pulling back, pulling away, shuttering himself, trying but not quite able to manage a cool snap withdrawal. Laurent said, ‘Adequate.’

book 1: “Laurent turned to Damen. ‘Well?’ Laurent said. ‘Can you couple adequately, or do you just kill things?”

He’d caught Laurent’s wrist before, to hold him back from a blow, a knife strike. He held him now. He could feel the desperate urge for retreat. He could feel something else too, Laurent keeping himself apart, as though, this act being finished, he had no template for what to do. ‘Kiss me,’ he said again.

this is so good. it’s good for all the things damen knows, and all the things he doesn’t know. because he’s doing good here, even without the truth about the regent clicking. he’s helping laurent figure this out, confidently and compassionately, and showing him that he doesn’t need to retreat.

Dark-eyed, Laurent was holding himself in place as though pushing himself past a barrier, the tension in Laurent’s body still telegraphing flight, and Damen felt the shock with his whole body when Laurent’s gaze dropped to his mouth. His own eyes fell closed as he realised that Laurent was going to do this, and he held himself very still. Laurent kissed with a slight parting of his lips, as though he was unconscious of what he was asking for, and Damen kissed him back carefully, dizzy with the idea that the kiss would deepen.

see my previous comments about trauma and my appreciation for laurent as a romantic interest/lead

For a moment, looking felt like kissing, an exchange in which the distinctions of intimacy blurred.

"distinctions of intimacy blurred" is such a succinct way to summarize the way pacat writes the overall romantic arc. they do not need to be fucking to be fucking, and when they are fucking, they're doing other stuff too

It was not what Laurent had expected. He felt the slight shock of Laurent’s surprise, and the way Laurent held himself, as though confused as to why Damen wished to do this, but he felt the moment when surprise turned to something else.

“confused as to why damen wanted to do this” yeah that’s pretty typical for laurent

Damen allowed himself the minor delight of nuzzling.

fantastic line

He lifted his fingers to the tie that closed Laurent’s collar. He had been trained to do this, he knew every intricate fastening.

talk about setup and payoff...

Exposed, Laurent’s nipples were hard and puckered, the first tangible evidence of desire, and Damen felt a wild surge of gratification. His eyes lifted to Laurent’s. Laurent said, ‘Did you think I was made of stone?’ He couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure he felt at that, said, ‘Nothing you don’t want.’ ‘You think I don’t want it?’ Seeing the look in Laurent’s eyes, Damen deliberately pushed him back onto the sheets.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

okay big turning point! probably the first major tell we’ve gotten of laurent being out of control of his reactions, AND he isn’t ashamed of it and asks for more!!! massive laurent (and damen) w!!!

Lifting a hand idly to the exact place above his head where Damen might have pressed it, Laurent gazed back at him through veiled lashes. ‘Like being on top, do you?’ ‘Yes.’ Never more so than at this moment. To have Laurent beneath him was heady.

they’re both having so much fun in different but complimentary ways. laurent enjoys what he’s doing to damen, damen enjoys what laurent is doing to him. they’re both getting something out of it, which i don’t think damen fully understood what he said that thing about laurent not wanting him, but wanting to make him feel. he wants it because it’s you specifically, dummy.

Despite the cool tone, he was aware of the extent to which Laurent was holding himself in place, allowing himself to be touched. Tension still glinted in Laurent’s body, like the shine on a blade edge that would slice you open at the wrong touch.

Damen let himself experience dizzily just how much he liked the idea of controlled Laurent betraying himself in salt flavoured need into his mouth. He touched it with his hand and encountered a texture like hot silk.

i like how pacat finds these ways to say what’s going on, but in a much more compelling and beautiful way than just “damen wanted to blow him” and “his dick was nice”

‘I am not going to reciprocate.’ Damen looked up. ‘What?’ Laurent said, ‘I am not going to do that to you.’ ‘And so?’ ‘Do you want me to suck your cock?’ said Laurent, precisely. ‘Because I don’t plan to. If you are proceeding on the expectation of reciprocity, then you had best be forewarned that—’ This was too convoluted for bed play. Damen listened, satisfied himself that in all of this talking there was no actual objection, then simply applied his mouth.

LOVE THIS. how complicated traumatized laurent trying to deflect is just washing over damen, he doesn’t care if it’s not reciprocal, he just wants to make laurent feel good. something laurent doesn’t understand or expect because sex for him has always been about making [redacted] feel good and that’s it. and laurent’s bitchiness here is so tenderly and funny and in character. he delivered a “precise treatise on cocksucking” in book 1, of course he’d regard this like a business negotiation

For all his seeming experience, Laurent reacted like an innocent to this pleasure. He let out a soft shocked sound, and his body re-formed around the place where Damen was giving his attention. Damen held Laurent in place, hands to hips, and allowed himself to enjoy Laurent’s slight, helpless shifts and pushes, the quality of his surprise, and the hard act of repression that followed, as Laurent tried to even out his breathing.

damen associates sex with happily giving and receiving pleasure, so he’s confused/surprised by laurent’s unfamiliarity with actually getting attention and enjoying himself

Laurent was, by far, the most controlled lover Damen had ever taken to bed.

damen a lot of them were slaves. coached to make you feel like a god. just saying

And felt it stymied. As rhythm built, Laurent’s body locked down, his responses repressed. Looking up, he saw that Laurent’s hands were fists in the sheets, his eyes closed, his head turned to one side. Laurent, out on the shattered edge of pleasure, was holding himself back from climax by sheer force of his impossible will.

again i say, i’m so glad to see someone like laurent as the love interest in a romance novel, holy shit

After a long moment Laurent said, with painful honesty, ‘I . . . find it difficult to let go of control.’ ‘No kidding,’ said Damen.

:) a really nice tension-breaking way to find a little humor in it all, made even lighter by damen’s lack of awareness re: [redacted]

‘You want to take me, as a man takes a boy.’

this is the first moment where i’m just like DAMEN. truly. how are you not guessing this. i get that it’s consistent with his character to not assume the worst, but oh my god

‘You make it sound simple.’ ‘It is simple.’

The words fell into a stillness between them. Laurent’s breathing was shallow, and his cheeks were flushed as he closed his eyes, as though he wanted to block out the world. ‘I want,’ said Laurent, ‘I want it to be simple.’

‘Yes,’ said Laurent. ‘But—wasn’t it—’ ‘Will you stop talking about it.’ The words were ground out.

oh he’s trying so hard to let himself have this. probably before he feels really ready but it’s his last night with damen so!!

For all his bizarre nervy tension, Laurent was indisputably eager, physically. Damen searched his blue eyes. ‘Contrary, aren’t you,’ said Damen softly, thumbing over Laurent’s cheek. ‘Fuck me,’ said Laurent. ‘I want to,’ said Damen. ‘Can you let me?’ He said it quietly, and waited, as Laurent’s eyes closed again, a muscle sliding in his jaw. The idea of being fucked very clearly had Laurent out of his mind, as desire competed with some sort of convoluted mental objection that really needed, Damen thought, to be dispensed with. ‘I am letting you,’ said Laurent, the terse words pushing out. ‘Will you get on with it?’

this is so well-written, both what’s in the lines and what’s in between them. it’s a sex scene but it’s also a masterful scene of dramatic irony and characterization for them both

He watched Laurent’s face, the slight flush, the fractional changes of his expression, his eyes wide and dark. It was intensely private.

of course he's in his own head. that's laurent, for better or for worse

He felt some sense that he needed to hold onto this, to hold it tight and never let it out of his grip. You’re mine, he wanted to say, and couldn’t. Laurent didn’t belong to him; this was something he could have only once. His chest hurt.

To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up. Never had he wanted something this badly, and held it in his hands knowing that tomorrow it would be gone, traded for the high cliffs of Ios, and the uncertain future across the border, the chance to stand before his brother, to ask him for all the answers that no longer seemed so important. A kingdom, or this.

i don’t have much to add here. it’s being explained perfectly in the text. it's nice to be at this point of understanding with the characters and plot that things can come together like this, thematically, on the page.

[ultrone]

⋆ ★ 🏍️ ꒰ SHADES OF COOL ꒱ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

featuring. toxic motorcyclist lottie

playlist. shades of cool ⋆ 🎧 ⋆ old money

damn lottie matthews.

always walking through the school hallways as if she owned the place. always sporting that stupid smirk on her face, effortlessly winning over any girl she wanted. detention seemed to be a nonexistent concept for her; in fact, she boldly declared it to be her favorite class. and that obnoxious bike of hers—the very same one she rode to your house every night at 3:00 am, when the world was asleep, and it was just the two of you, the empty road, and the night sky.

lotts: i’m here, hurry up

you hastily slipped on your shoes and grabbed the first hoodie you could find—she hated when you kept her waiting. stealthily, you descended the stairs and cautiously opened the front door, making every effort to avoid waking up your parents.

and there she was, leaning against her stationary motorcycle, igniting a cigarette with a jack daniel's zippo she had stolen from her father's office. clad in a saint laurent dark gray acid-washed t-shirt, a pair of ripped dark levi's, her favorite golden goose sneakers—which were too dirty for your personal taste—, and that ever-present black leather jacket that made you want to rip it off her body.

"you coming?" she asked nonchalantly, interrupting your thoughts. hastily, you moved towards her, placing your hands over her lips.

"shhh, you might wake my parents," you said with concern.

she chuckled, grasping your wrist and prying your hands away from her mouth. as she did, you could feel her numerous cold rings tapping against your warm skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"no kiss?" she inquired, smoke billowing from her mouth.

you smirked, and she drew you into a kiss—slow and passionate. her lips felt cold, and the taste of tobacco and gold tequila lingered on her tongue. with one hand caressing your cheek, the other slid under your shirt, gripping your skin as her tongue found its way into your mouth.

your friends would kill you if they found out about this. you had promised them that your situationship was over, that you had blocked her and would never speak to her again. she wasn't good for you. she had never had a stable relationship, frequently used drugs, and couldn't commit. you were just one of the many girls she slept with—yet, despite that, it was you she called every night. it was you she sought.

so yeah, maybe she wasn't yours, and perhaps you could never fix her. yet, you'd always wait for the night to come, for that was when she would come to you, freely and secretly, but with a tinge of intimacy. that’s when she would hold you close, when she would gently press her lips against yours, and when you'd wrap your arms around her waist, holding her tight as she rode. you’d close your eyes and be hers, right in that moment.

because it was inevitable.

whenever she called, you'd be there, running to her. that was the way it was, and the way it always would be.