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mizzmellos · 1 year ago
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One of the m2s is sick. What happens.
All things considered w how dramatic he is usually, Mello isn't too bad when he gets sick. Or he's just good at hiding it because he hates looking weak. Matt dotes on him and Mello finds it unnecessary and corny. But when Matt gets a tiny cold, you'd think he's suffering from a necrotic bullet wound. Soooo helpless 🤒🤧 Mello usually tells him to toughen up and get over it but if he's actually unwell Mello might get him some soup and a warm blanket all while making this face -> 😑🙄 and Mello tries not to kiss Matt when Matt's sick because he doesn't want to catch it but Matt is like 😚 spit in my mouth baby we'll be sick together <3 ☺😋🤤
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vanillabat99 · 2 years ago
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Just a heads-up that the queue might run out in the next day or two!! I haven't been finding much to put in there and I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately, so it's been falling behind. I need to go through my following list and clear out inactive pages and try to get things going again. If you have any blog or tag recommendations, I'm all ears!!
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flowersncuties · 9 months ago
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hey tumblr i'm back lol
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tteokdoroki · 9 months ago
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𐙚 🪷 TRUTH OR DRINK katsuki bakugou .ᐟ
⋆˙ᝰ about ! “you love me, you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me." with the release of your husband's newest album and the announcement for his latest tour, the two of you are invited on set to film a special kind of promotional video for newlyweds. hopefully, this married couple leave without a hangover. ( 4.8K )
warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint, celebrity!au, all characters are aged up to 20s, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, drinking, newlyweds, exes, some family issues, long-distance, idol!bakugou, fem + model!reader - not beta read!
aali’s love letter ! happy birthday bakugou! another splendid year for our lord saviour dynamght !! i posted this late boo but its out!! i hope you guys are still able to enjoy <3 ty to @cuntcure for helping out n motivating me !! - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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“fuck, we’re really doing this, huh?”
across from you, katsuki bakugou shifts uncomfortably  — ruby red eyes darting around the plain white set. studio lights glare from all directions, illuminating the slight sweat that beads at the blonde’s hairline. artificial lighting, bright and made to capture everything, refracts of the pearling perspiration and almost creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of your partner’s head. almost as if he’s an angel.
reaching over the small table that the producers have set up between you both, you grasp at katsuki’s rough fingers, toying with them as if to test the waters before you hold them fully — once he’s comfortable enough to accept your physical affection. his palms are warm and a little sweaty, but that doesn’t stop you from giving them a gentle squeeze. 
“it’ll be fun,” you whisper, keeping your voice low and calm as the production crew continues to contrastingly flit around you in preparation for the shoot. “and it’ll be great promo for your album!” lifting his hands, you press a kiss to the blonde’s knuckles as though you’re sealing a promise, ensuring that they’re not empty. you smile reassuringly and bakugou returns it awkwardly, drawing back just a tad when a member of production sheepishly approaches the table to set down three different bottles of alcohol, two shot glasses and a pitcher of pineapple and coconut juice as your mixer of choice. 
glass bottles of whisky, rum, and vodka glit under the white light too.
“we can back out at anytime,” comes your soft reminder once the crew member retreats to check the sound mic and cameras along with some other staff. “i want you to be comfortable.” 
bakugou shakes his head, this time, bringing the backs of your hands to his lips — pale blonde lashes fluttering as he shuts away ruby framed eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. “wanna do it. like y’said it’ll be good. fun.” when he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you with a toothy smirk that never fails to send a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a flurry through your tummy. “besides, we haven’t been able t’do somethin’ like this together in a while.” 
nothing beats your grin after that and with a few more touch ups to your make up ( the both of you ) — you’re ready to begin filming. 
“okay guys!” the director on set claps their hands. “wanna start us off? who are you and what are you doing here today?” 
you give katsuki’s hands one last comforting squeeze before his crimson gaze slinks towards the camera that’s now rolling, fixating on its blinking red light as it matches his stare. “‘m katsuki bakugou ‘nd this is my wife,” he juts his head over to you gently, muttering your name with love laced between each of its syllables. 
you too turn to face the camera, award winning smile settling gracefully on your lips. “and today we’re playing truth or drink!” you squirm excitedly. “we’re really happy to be here! thank you for having us!” 
“i’m not.” 
“katsuki!” 
with a laugh behind the camera, the producer speaks again. “so, you’re some pretty special guests. what do you guys do? how long have you two been married?”
bakugou rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. “i’m a singer-songwriter slash idol or whatever you wanna call it…and i’m on tour right now. so buy my album or you’re shit.” 
“and i’m a fashion model slash content creator. we’ve been together for like…five years? married for half a year? a year?” musing out loud, you switch your gaze from the camera to katsuki — letting him know with your eyes that he’s doing a great job.
“eight months, three weeks ‘n two days.” he corrects you seriously, causing sweet laughter to bubble up on your lips. 
“sorry, folks. eight months, three weeks and two days.”  you retort jokingly. bakugou rolls eyes ruby framed eyes again.
“okay, so still pretty new. let’s start with a shot, shall we?”
ever the gentlemen, your husband  pours you a decently sized shot using a drink he knows you like without even asking. he even tops it off with a mixer because he knows that sometimes you can’t get past a bitter aftertaste if the alcohol is too strong. once done with yours, he fills up his own glass before clinking it against yours — both of you knocking back the shot with practised ease. 
“god, that shit’s strong.” the pale blonde grimaces. 
despite having a facial expression to match, you somehow make light of the situation. “really puts hairs on your chest, doesn’t it, kats?”
“you like my tits naked and juicy, shut the hell up,” smirking cockily, katsuki slides your shot glasses to the side and toys with the stacked white question cards in front of him. “her words not mine.” 
“anyways…first card please.” 
doing as he’s told, katsuki flips the first card over — skimming the letters written in bold on the other side before he slams it back down. “‘m takin’ a shot.” 
the shoot has barely begun and you already find yourself bursting into fits of adoring, amused giggles. “no! it’s not even your question to answer! you have to read it, it’s the first card!” you whine playfully.
“alright, fine,” flipping the card over again with a dejected air about him, bakugou announces the question to both you and the camera. “when was the last time we had sex and where did it happen?” 
“oh god.” you pinch your brow.
“told ya. no shots, it’s the first card. y’gotta answer it, babe.” bakugou teases as he casts the card aside, leaning back in his chair slow and sexy like while he watches you hungrily. it’s like making you embarrassed has made him forget that he’s on camera. 
sighing through your nose, you pout at the camera and producers who watch eagerly. “on the way here.” 
“on the way to this shoot? oh my god!” 
“yes! omg. shut up, this is so embarrassing. katsuki don’t laugh!” you practically wail as the set bursts out into laughter. “god, okay. it was on the way here and in the back of the SUV with the partition up. don’t ask me how we had time. katsuki always makes time.” 
said katsuki wiggles two fingers towards the camera knowingly and chokes back a raspy chuckle when you frown in response, scooping up your own card. “next question,” your say as your gaze skims the card. “who is your least favourite parent in law? oooh, spicy.” 
“definitely her dad,” your husband points a thumb in your direction without hesitation but mouths his words straight into the camera. “you’re a piece of shit by the way.” 
the producer pipes in. “can we elaborate?”
“my dad was never the most supportive of my career…but claims everything i have is because of him. it sucks, he's a narcissist and we don’t really speak because of it.” you answer truthfully, attempting to shrug the weight of your familial situation off. you know that most girls dream of having their father walk them down the aisle on their wedding day…but it’s just not in the cards for you. sensing your anger, your hurt and your pain beginning to rise to the surface, katsuki takes the card from you and grasps at your hand — eyebrows raised earnestly into his hairline while he checks to see if you’re okay. a small, wistful smile plays at your lips and you give your partner a gentle nod. “it’s okay though, my mum, mitsuki and masaru have been great parents. katsuki’s mum and dad kept me grounded throughout our engagement, pretty much designed all of my wedding outfits. they were all custom.” 
“outfits? as in multiple?” 
“ah yes! mitsuki insisted that i had changes throughout the day.” you beam, a giddiness replacing any negative emotion you once felt. your future mother in law had done everything in her power to make you feel like a princess on your wedding day — to this day it made you feel extremely grateful for your positive relationship with bakugou’s family.
“they still fuckin’ spoil her, ma styles her for a lot shoots,” the blonde scoffs but the adoration dancing in the almost brown flecks of his carmine eyes tell a different story. “no seriously, ma ‘n pa love you so much. you’re like the daughter they never had.” 
“aw, that’s so cute. i’ll cry.” 
katsuki’s turn to pick a card rolls around again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time — index finger toying with your engagement ring. “what’s was the most stressful part about planning a wedding?” he reads. “oh, definitely the micromanaging from other people. shit pissed me off,” your husband answers almost straight away, already preparing to fix himself a shot when the producer asks him to elaborate. 
he shakes his head and the producer turns to you. “our managers thought that they could have a say in our ceremony since it was like the celebrity wedding of the year,” shrugging, you fix your own shot which makes your spouse grin. “we ended up having one public and one smaller, private wedding to say fuck ‘em. and no, they didn’t fire me for this.” 
“so a follow up, when you announced your engagement to the world what was a difficult thing you dealt with publicly?” someone from behind the camera asks.
pursing your lips, you look to katsuki for an answer. “the fan wars? some of my fans were…are still caught up on my ex and others think the great singer katsuki bakugou is too good for an influencer like me.” 
“they don’t know shit. you’re too good for the world baby, i don’t deserve you.” 
“corny ass,” you snort directly into the camera’s shot. “i’m sure that’s one of his song lyrics.” 
“is fuckin’ not!” bakugou pouts, though he’ll deny that he was later. “pick another damn card.” 
he pushes the pile towards you once more and you cheekily swipe one from the middle to make the video a little bit more interesting for those watching from home when it comes out. hopefully the viewers get a laugh out of bakugou calling you a cheater and you sticking your tongue out at him in retaliation — he pinches it back. 
“ouch! owie, okay! okay, let go!” flipping the card so that the text is facing you, you begin to read it out loud slowly — nearly bursting out into an incredulous fit of giggles at the question printed in thick black letters. “this is so ironic, baby you’re gonna love this one,” katsuki raises a brow, intrigued by the coy smile you’re barely trying to hide now. “i dare you to call an ex and remind them that you’re happily married.” 
a small silence echoes throughout the studio as you stare at one another, waiting and waiting, until a loud, raspy and haughty laugh rips through bakugou’s throat. 
“what’s so funny?”
the blonde sat opposite you, still as handsome as the day you first met him — with glittering gem eyes that sparkle under the studio lights and a toothy smile that never fails to melt your heart, suddenly grows shy. a rose tint spreads its way over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks that have lost their youthful roundness, katsuki blushes softly but laughs with his entire body — only just embarrassed by the secret he's about to reveal to his most dedicated fans and the rest of the world. 
leaning forward on the table, elbows on the edge, while you tuck your chin in the seat of your palm — biting your lip in amusement. “do you wanna tell them or should i?” 
“i wanna take a fuckin’ short first. can i?” katsuki asks, almost innocently. he knocks back a glass of dark, bitter whisky once he gets the go ahead. “she’s my first. my first everythin’. girlfriend, time, wife—“ 
“i sure hope i’m your first and only wife, kats.” you cut him off swiftly, a mischievous lilt layered thick on your tone.
he slings an arm over the back of his chair, waving you off lovingly. “—you know what i mean, sweets.” bakugou shrugs in the direction of the producers. “i don’t have an ex to call.”
“okay, we’ll have your wife call one.” 
at the film crew’s suggestion, your voice raises an octave, notes of surprise littered through out your melodic voice. “me? who would i even call?” you can’t help but snicker, trying to reach for the juice used for mixer so you can plan your escape route out of the dare. 
your husband snatches the bottle from your reach, holding it protectively against his broad chest. “call shindou.” he grunts out low but highly amused. 
“oh no, i’m not doing that. let me take the shot katsuki.” comes your instant response, tone turning slightly serious.
“who’s shindou?”
“her ex.” 
“my ex.” 
the both of you announce in unison, though you’re a little less entertained by your menace of a blonde husband — still guarding the drinks as he chucks the used question card to the side. 
“why not?” 
“cause it’ll be mean? he still hasn’t recovered from finding out i’m dating the idol he used to train with. yanno, the one who debuted over him.” 
bakugou clicks his tongue cockily.  “he’ll get over it. call him. c’mon, it’ll be funny and you love making me laugh.” 
“alright fine but you have to swear you’ll answer the next one.” you turn to the camera. “he’s right though, his laugh is the prettiest in the world.” 
bakugou blushes as you pull out your phone and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, surprised at yourself for not blocking and deleting the number. holding up the sleek device for everyone to view, you jab a thumb into the speaker button and watch with baited breath as it begins to ring throughout the studio.
“hello, yo speakin’,” a voice a little higher pitched than your husband’s filters through the speaker. it’s familiar, but doesn’t hold any of the comfort that bakugou brings. it’s been years since you ended things with your ex, the relationship was rocky and full of miscommunications and mistrusts before either of you skyrocketed to fame. there’s no malice between you both or a reason to cause katsuki why worry, you hope, but talking to yo shindou nowadays is akin to talking to a stranger. 
giving the camera an awkward thumbs up, you reply shyly. “hi shin, what’s up?” 
“oh hey sweetheart, this is a nice suprise.” your ex purrs through the line. you click the buttons side of your phone to turn up the volume — making sure his every word is picked up by the mics in the room. 
bakugou chimes in, clearly looking for an opportunity to show off. “hey asshole, don’t get too excited.” 
“hello to you too kats, what can i do you for princess?” 
“shin, don’t call me that. also we’re shooting truth or drink right now — newlyweds edition with kats. they wanted me to call, tell you i’m married or something… which i’m sure you know by now.” explaining in a rush, you push at bakugou’s forehead, right between arched, dark blonde brows to keep him and his laughter at bay. 
“it’s all anyone can talk about these days, especially when i’m on set. married couple of the year.” 
the producers mouth to you to ask shindou a question, in which you almost miss underneath the sounds of your newlywed husband suppressing snarky jokes and giggles. “they’re telling me to ask you if you’re happy for me ‘n kats. you don’t have to answer—“ 
“i am. happy for you. katsuki, as big as of an asshole as he is, makes you way fucking happier than i ever did. he’s good to you, but you’re better to him. the world wants to see you guys grow old together… i hope it stays that way or else i’ll have to swoop back in—“
cringing along the millions that will be watching in the near future, you slice through his words politely before bakugou can blow a gasket. “thanks, shin. you’re sweet.” 
“anything for you, sweetcheeks—“ 
“alright, alright. you’re pushin’ it now, freak. r’member i’m the one clapping these sweet cheeks and i’ll always be a better fuck than you—“ abruptly, your newfound husband snatches up your phone — growling possessively down the line as if to ward your ex off. 
“okaybyethankyou!” squealing you hang up the phone and breathe a heavy sigh of relief, head banging on the table in front of you as you try to hide your flustered face. “that went better than expected.” 
the blonde before you shrugs nonchalantly as if he wasn’t seconds away from reaching into the phone and tearing shindou’s head from between his shoulders.  “i do love an opportunity to show you off, rub our marriage in people’s faces.” alas, he pours you both a shot, adding a mixer to yours, sort of as a reward for making it through the call. “kay, next card,” he swipes one from the top of the pile once more, carefully murmuring its contents into the studio’s cool air. “can the both of you name one person you would have invited into your marital bedroom on your wedding night? see if you’re both thinking of the same person. easy. on three?” 
“sure! one, two—“ you count, the temperature of the room raising as it awaits your big reveal. “kirishima.” 
“kirishima.” katsuki says at the same time before smirking cockily at the film crew. “next!”
you join him just as your foot flirtatious slides up his leg from underneath the table. “kats says eijirou is packin’, by the way.” your husband’s smile fades into an embarrassed look, everyone in the room laughing along with you. of course he’s seen it. of course you’ve talked about this before. “anyway, my turn! most romantic thing i’ve ever done for you? c’mon now kats, you can think of something. i’m pretty sweet.” 
reaching for your hand for the nth time during the shoot, bakugou laces his fingers with yours — decadent dark red eyes instantly drawn to the big rock on your engagement ring and the simple gold wedding band that sits above it as he recalls everything you’ve ever done for him. every gesture; every text, every act of physical touch or service. it would be hard to choose just one romantic thing.
the silence as he ponders almost fills you with dread, a nervousness fluttering about in your chest like a butterfly whose wings are beginning to fail them. they’d have to edit this part out if he couldn’t think of anything. 
but then, those plush pink lips that kiss you and call for you, part gently and a soft sentiment escape’s from between them. “you love me,” is all bakugou can say, eyes wide and genuine. “you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me…and, if we’re talkin’ specifics, you remember that time just before my album came out? before our wedding? i was fuckin’ stressed ‘n i was always locked up in the studio, trying to figure out the track list, the final song…” 
you nod slowly, exhaling deeply through your nose. “yeah?”  the background noise from the crew, cameras and mics wither away until it’s just yourself and bakugou in the room — holding hands as though you’re one another’s life lines. 
“it was three am ‘n you were in another city for a shoot but…you still made the drive over to have dinner with me. to make sure i ate,” the tip of katsuki’s rough and calloused thumb brushes over the bumps formed by your knuckles. “just to help me run through things even though i was freakin’ the fuck out and you had a flight to milan the next day. you ate with me and that meant a lot.” he seems wistful as he talks, forgetting that the world will be able to see his heart beating all tender like when the cameras are put away and the footage is polished up.
perhaps he doesn’t care if the world sees him being so vulnerable with the woman he loves on screen. they’ll usually find such openness hidden between the lyrics of his songs. so, perhaps it’s the little alcohol running through his system. nevertheless, quiet love and appreciation seeps from katsuki bakugou’s pours into the quiet atmosphere of the set, the emotions crash over you in waves that you welcome — almost reducing you to tears brewed just for him.
“you asshole,” you sniff, lacking all the spite the insulting nickname carries. “i didn’t think that night  meant so much to you… i just wanted to see my baby. wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
cocking his head to the side fondly, the blonde singer uses the back of his hand to wipe at your free falling tears you hadn’t realised were there. bakugou doesn’t let go of you the entire time. “don’t cry sweets, you know i hate t’see you cry.” 
watery laughter bubbles up on the seam of your lips. “don’t tell me what to do,”
“you said she drove from another city, would you guys say that distance made things difficult for you?” 
“sometimes,” you answer the director truthfully. “while we were engaged we’d plan our wedding across different time zones. when i was awake walking for fashion week he was sleeping in his studio making songs.” you explain, looking to katsuki to confirm.
he nods along with another squeeze of your hand. “it was hard yeah, but we got through it. now she has my ring on her finger ‘n she’s stuck with me.” 
“send help.” you mouth to the camera.
resuming the game, you snatch up a card and secretly hope that the question is a little more light hearted than the previous. “has my line of work ever made you jealous? oooh, good one,” adding the card to the ones already discarded, you squirm in your seat — excited to know your husband’s answer. “no shots! i want you sober and honest.” 
“i’ve hardly had anythin’ to drink!” katsuki snorts. “what’s the sayin’? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? let me have something.” 
“no! i want sober words and sober thoughts, that’s the aim of the game, stink.” 
katsuki rolls his eyes so hard you fear they might drop out of his skull. “spoiled brat,” he mumbles begrudgingly, sucking his teeth. “okay before anyone says anythin’, i’m a secure guy. i trust and value my girl’s word above anyone else’s. i love seein’ her on billboards in every country i visit, on magazines at every airport I’ve ever flown from…”
“it feels like there’s a but coming.” 
“wait for it…” you hum gleefully.
“but i hate that one cover shoot you did with that nerd, izuku, for vogue. that’s it. never do that shit again.” bakugou finishes, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
nearly leaping out of your seat, you point at your husband — bewildered. “i knew it! you said it didn’t bother you!”
“of course it did! he had his grubby arms wrapped around you! he stinks.” 
“you did not just call izuku stinky, he’s got a feature on your album!” 
“his feature can kiss my ass,” you know that bakugou is only half serious, the two have written some beautiful songs together and the cover hardly meant anything — izuku models from time to time as well. it just so happens you also work for the same brands. “my turn again, rate my proposal on a scale of one to ten. how good did i do?”
“nine point five.” you nod assertively, speaking to your audience with love bursting through your heart. “he proposed to me at his first sold out concert, like literally stopped singing and apologised to all of his fans because he had something important to say. that’s when he asked me, in front of his entire world. kats’ is real private so it meant so much to me…”
the blonde leans back in his seat but brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss directly to your wedding rings. “only nine point five? cheeky fucker.”
“it’s only ‘cause your genius-self decided to chuck my ring into the crowd?” you scoff. 
“oi! i have good aim, you’re just shit at catchin’ things!” katsuki scoffs back, nudging you with his foot under the table. 
“back to the game love birds.” 
the two of you put your playful little spat on the back burner and you grasp the next card. “how many years into our our marriage do you think we’ll stop having sex—?” 
“never,” katsuki cuts you off, looking directly into the lense as he jabs a thumb in your direction. “i can’t ever get her off my cock. she’s fuckin’ insane.” 
heat flares up underneath the surface of your skin in embarrassment. “fuck you.” 
“right after this shoot, sweetheart.” he winks right back at you before nodding down at the cards. “last two, yeah? did your life turn out as expected?”
chewing on your bottom lip, you give the question some thought. life has an unpredictable nature, no matter who you are or where you come from. if someone had told you a year into your college degree, that you’d be in front of sorts of cameras as a profession for the rest of your life — you wouldn’t have believed them. if someone had told you that you’d find the love of your life shortly after, you would have called them a liar too. your past has been heavy, a dark cloud you never thought you’d be able to escape — hauntingly daunting.
and even though you know that it’s a burden to place the weight of your happiness on someone else’s shoulders — but you know that katsuki has always been your golden, blinding light at the end of the tunnel. he’s something you never expected, but someone you entirely deserve after everything life has thrown at you. 
“no, it hasn’t,” you whisper softly, ever so slightly distinct. your lover leans in, watching you curiously from over stacked question cards and bottles of barely touched alcohol. “i never expected to be so famous so young, that a silly little dream of mine could come true. that i never expected, i still can’t believe it…but, it’s like… meeting you. falling in love with you, on top of all that? it’s like i was destined to be with you, kats. you’re my soulmate. i knew that from the start.” 
just like you earlier, emotion wells up inside katsuki. it breaches the cavity of his chest, slows down the rate of his heart and lungs and brings a slight shine to his beautiful blood red eyes. he sniffs but doesn’t dare look away from you — reading deep into your soul despite knowing the pages of it off by heart. “i feel the same,” he mumbles, reaching over to cup your face even with all of the cameras around. “i never expected to go on tour, sell albums and make music…but i feel like my heart always knew you were waitin’ for me.” quietness fills the space between the two of you, neither of you needing to say much. you cup the wrist of his hand that touched your face, leaning into his palm and pressing a kiss to it. “we’re so fuckin’ corny.” 
“you love it.”  you reply instantly. “i love you.” 
“see?” katsuki asks the production crew as he draws the last card for both of you — holding it out for you to read. “cornball.” 
“it’s cute! she’s cute and corny!”
“what about the rest of our marriage do you look forward to most?” since the video shoot is coming to an end, and you hardly want to cry any more, you both decide to make your answers short and sweet. “i look forward to spending forever by your side, taking over the world one continent at a time.” you gush, meaning every single word, smiling adoringly. 
“ditto, can’t wait to grow old with you, brat.” bakugou mirrors your expression and finally, finally ends the shoot by pressing the ghost of a kiss to your awaiting lips. you feel warm knowing how comfortable he’s grown over the course of filming, even more so at all of the truths he’s given you tonight. 
“that’s a wrap! thank you so much guys!”
katsuki salutes the camera, finishing up for you. “we’ve been the bakugous playin’ truth or drink. buy my album, see me on tour, buy a magazine with my wife’s beautiful face on it. like and subscribe.” all the while, you reflect on everything that you’ve learned about your husband whilst filming — that he loves you a lot more than he lets on, that you have his heart for all of eternity, that nothing in this world and cause his love for you to waver, 
and as your matching wedding bands continue to gleam beneath the dimming studio lights, you only hope that he knows that you feel the exact same way about loving him too.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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emmyrosee · 11 months ago
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helloooe i don’t know if u write for gojo (i’m new in your blog and haven’t seen gojo posts lately or maybe i haven’t scrolled far) and saw that your looking for angsty requests, can i request angst as in the different levels of gojo and reader, that gojo is so powerful and that the world constantly needs him so he can’t give reader enough attention, in a way actually hit them both in their relationship?
if not, it’s okay, i hope you’re doing fine!!
GOJO ANGST MY BELOVED-
---
"If you leave, you will come home to an empty house."
The warning falls confidently from your lips, as if premeditated and ready to be released into the air at any given trigger. Satoru stops getting his shoes on and turns to face you. Your eyes hold nothing but exhaustion, eyes under your bags dark and the lifelessness in your face sends a shiver through him. Had you looked so worn out all day?
"What... did you just say?" He whispers, brows pinching in the center in betrayal.
"You heard me. If you leave me right now, without a second thought of my regard, you will come back to nothing from me but my scent and this memory of us."
Thirty seconds ago, he smearing frosting on your nose and when you pushed him away, he’d peppered kisses over your face and fingers dug in your sides. Thirty seconds ago, you'd been interrupted in your baking by the man who would move mountains and swim oceans for you, only for his phone to ring just seconds later, calling him away like it always does.
Thirty seconds ago, he was kissing the laughter from your lips. Now, you’re threatening him.
You're cruel for this predicament, this choice and this bomb to be dropped on him mere seconds from him leaving for who even knows how long. But it doesn’t matter to him. You knew what you were getting into, and it’s not his fault he’s needed more often than not.
You should love him no matter what. As he does you.
He swallows thickly, "don't do this. Not right now."
You shrug, "this is your choice. Not mine. You know my terms.”
Bile rises up his throat and his hands tremble before fisting themselves into a little ball, "this is your choice, you doing this right now when I need to leave-"
“You always need to leave. I’m just sick of it.”
Now, Satoru just feels himself getting angry, "is this ultimatum really necessary right now? You couldn't have waited three damn days-"
"I think you're optimistic in guessing you'll only be gone for three days," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. He sees the hurt in your features, but he merely shrugs it off as he continues to put on his shoes. “I’m not kidding, Satoru,” you warn. “You leave. I leave.”
“Then leave!” He shouts, hating the way tears sting at his eyes, “do it! I dont need you! You think I do? I’m Gojo Satoru.”
He does. Good fucking god he does, Satoru needs you like he needs water, craves food and forces breath into his lungs, he needs you like he’s paid to and loves you more than himself.
But you can’t know that. Even if not knowing it will drive you away.
You just your lower lip out and shrug, “then leave. Gojo Satoru.”
In desperation, he searches your eyes for something, anything to call your bluff, anything to tell him you’re lying, you won’t leave him. But your eyes tell him nothing, your eyes are closed off and protecting yourself from his venom.
He balls his fists and takes a sharp sniff through his nose in an attempt to ground himself.
“Maybe I will.”
He opens the door before slamming it shut behind him, the vibrations rattling his bones and making him feel even weaker than he was before. He knows that you might slam the door in a not too dissimilar way in but a few hours, cupcakes abandoned and bags packed into your car, leaving your keys in the mailbox and leaving his life for good.
All he can do is hope otherwise.
But in all the lies he can tell himself, that’s one he’s having a hard time believing.
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kenobers · 4 months ago
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magic hands | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader
but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!
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Yo
You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.
Would you-
Too entitled.
Would you mind-
Passive aggressive.
Will-
Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.
yo.
That was fast.
You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.
Can you pick me up some pads?
You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.
It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.
Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.
i don't know, can i?
Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.
yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?
You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.
I'm out of ibuprofen
Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.
...and maybe some ice cream.
you got it babe.
Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.
Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.
which kind
Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.
check. headed your way shawty.
After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.
You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.
"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.
"Your essentials, m'lady."
"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"
"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."
You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.
Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.
Bastard.
"That okay, pretty girl?"
Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.
"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"
"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"
You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.
"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.
"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"
"Hey."
Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.
"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."
You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.
"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."
"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."
You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.
When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.
This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.
You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.
He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.
Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.
"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.
"Dude! What the fuck!"
Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.
"It's just CBD."
You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.
"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"
It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.
His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.
"Don't laugh at me."
To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.
"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."
You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.
"Oh."
You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.
He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.
"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.
It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.
"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."
After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."
"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.
"Without your consent."
You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.
"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."
After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.
"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
"Huh?"
"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.
"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."
You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.
"It was nice of you to bring it."
"'s helping?"
"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.
He pauses his work on your hips.
"Where's it hurt?"
"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."
He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."
You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.
"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.
Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."
He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.
"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"
Absolute professional.
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mrsriddlenott · 2 months ago
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okay I just need pussydrunk mattheo 🥵
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It is honestly embarrassing how long this has been in my drafts unfinished(literally a few days over a year🤦‍♀️) I have been awol for so long but I have been GOIN through it y’all. I think I can finally at least try and actually come back to this blog. I love writing so much and I hate when it just isn’t fun anymore. And when I saw this I actually got excited to finish it so let’s see how it goes. Please correct mistakes and give feedback
Warnings: suggestive content but not actually full smut, public oral(f!receiving), heavy petting, play argument/kinda roleplay, some teasing.
{masterlist}
~Needy~
To plenty of people having a needy boyfriend would be the end of the world. But when that boyfriend is Mattheo Riddle, who seems to have an unnaturally high labido and stamina, it’s more of a pro rather than a con.
But what comes with needy is clingy. Mattheo just needs his hands on you whenever he can. You weren’t complaining but he certainly was. There was just too much time out of the day that he couldn’t touch you. So me made sure to cut thay time down as much as he could.
“Come oooon Baby” Mattheo groaned as he tugged you towards an empty, shadow filled corridor, “Just think about it, how many days a week do we have Potions, and how many weeks are in a term, how many terms in a school year….we can miss one hour of Potions Baby it’ll be fine. Plus you’re the smartest, prettiest, hottest person at this school you’ve got options for you future.”
“Um first of all,” You start, crossing your arms across your chest, poking your hip out to make Mattheo groan out loud as he restrains himself from touching you, “This will be the fourth time we missed Potions so far this term, and second of all who said I was worried for my future, nuh uh Baby I’m worried about yours.”
“Merlin you’re sexy when you’re being all bossy”Mattheo sighs, stepping closer to you and fanning your face with his breath, “I don’t care about my future as long as you’re in it, I need to keep you excited don’t I Princess?” He laughs out as he watches your resolve melt away, moving his hand up to grip your waste.
“That’s no fair.” You pout, desperately trying to hold a straight face as you continue, “You know you’re not allowed to call me Princess in an argument, you always win with that.” Mattheo sighs dramatically and steps even closer to you, breathing your air as he holds your hip tightly, tugging you into him aggressively.
“I’m so sorry baby, please forgive me,” He begs dramatically, smiling before dipping his head into the crook beside your shoulder to trace small pecks across your collarbone, forcing a moan to slip past your lips despite your pretend protests.
“How could I ever forgive you for such a lapse Mattheo,” you smile at how fast he halts his mouths assault of your collarbone giving you time to slip your fingers into his raven curls, giving them a tug to force his eyes up to yours, “You know, I can think of something you can do to earn my forgiveness.”
“What?” He rasps out, his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your hand in his hair and the other slowly slipping down his chest at an agonizing pace, “What can I do to make you feel better Baby, I’ll do anything for you, you know that.” His voice his breathy and desperate, sending heat down your abdomen as your thighs squeeze together subconsciously. At the gentle shove to his shoulder, Mattheo knew exactly what you wanted, smirking as you looked down to him where he leant into you with those pretend innocent eyes. Mattheo fell to his knees immediately, his hands tracing their way under your skirt while his eyes stay on yours.
“Is this what you’re asking for…Princess?” Mattheo asks, smirking as he gains dominance from below you, “You want me to make you feel good?….But Baby what about Potions, we-we can’t miss class i-it’s impo-“ You cut off his teasing with a tug to his hair and small sigh at the feeling of his hand ghosting across your underwear. Mattheo groans, his eyes falling into the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his hair.
“Okay okay, I’ve got you Princess.” He laughs breathlessly as his fingers tug your underwear down your legs, allowing you to step out of them before he shoves them in his pocket with a wink. In a flash Mattheo has his lips on you, his head vanishing under your skirt, his hand trailing upward to squeeze at your chest through your button up, the other gripping your thigh to give you support as you begin to wobble.
“Oh fuck Mattheo,” You moan loudly before clamping your hand over your mouth, almost forgetting your very public location at the feeling of Mattheo’s tongue meticulously swirling around your clit. His chuckle from below almost pisses you off enough to fight for dominance but as though to wipe your mind of it, Mattheo flattens his tongue and leaves a strip up your heat, making you whimper into your hand and bite your skin to prevent getting caught.
You shake as Mattheo’s fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh while it wobbles, unsteady as you begin to lose balance at the fast pace of Mattheo’s tongue, “Fuck Baby, can you stand or do I need to hold you?” He chuckles against you at your whine of protest, not wanting him to stop even for a second. Mattheo quickly tugs your thigh over his shoulder, allowing him to gain more access, speeding up his actions, moaning at your taste and the thought of you coming on his face as you depend on him to hold you steady. Your head falls back against the stone wall, your eyes rolling backward as your hand falls to his shoulders for balance not caring anymore about your volume. Your little whimpers and squeaks drive him insane below you, he knows your close, he can feel it.
Without warning Mattheo shifts lower, shoving his tongue into you, lowering his hand from your chest in a flash and using his thumb to stimulate your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you, matching his own pace and groaning as he feels your legs begin to shake for him. Your moans become screams as you release on his tongue, falling into his hold while he rises to look at your post-orgasm face he loves so much.
“Good thing we did this during class, someone might have heard otherwise.” Mattheo says simply with a laugh as you weakly smack at his broad shoulder.
~~~~
Pretty short compared to others I have but I just really wanted to start posting again. I’m probably gonna be cleaning out my drafts and trying to get them out even old ones ppl probably aren’t waiting on anymore to try and get back into a groove on here.
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chilling-seavey · 10 months ago
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Enchanté (gr63)
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↳ A/N Desperate to get back into posting my writing on here. Please take this 25,000 words of straight filth as my first solo George writing on my blog. How the times have changed. How I have grown.
↳ Summary: On a brief business trip to Paris, you find yourself enamoured with this handsome stranger and the fleeting promises he offers in the city of love
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Stranger!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 24.5k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, basically pwp, one night stand, use of explicit language, oral (f & m receiving), rimming, exhibitionism, minor anal play, choking, spitting, spanking, some biting, squirting, overstimulation, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), George has a (very skilled) dirty fucking mouth, unprotected sex (and unprotected creampie...whoops)
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The crowded Parisian bar was riddled with tourists who strived pathetically to appear as locals. From your spot at the bartop, you had a view of the classy interior that surrounded you and you found yourself people watching over your icy alcoholic drink for some entertainment that wasn’t the lively jazz music that filled the quaint venue. Your black heels hooked effortlessly on the foot rest of the leather bar stool and you haphazardly stirred your straw around your glass as your gaze passed over the crowd aimlessly before you turned to look over your other shoulder. 
You weren’t overly familiar with traveling by yourself but when your company offered you an all expenses paid trip to Paris to network for the firm, you could never dream of declining. It had only been for a long weekend and as Saturday night was progressing, the realization that your short-lived trip to Europe was coming to a close was settling on your conscience. Although a little lonely, you had no complaints, and you decided to locate a bar to celebrate a successful business trip with a well deserved drink or two. 
When the bartender walked up to you on the opposite side of the bar top, you glanced up at him just as he set another glass in front of you. Before you could remind him that you didn’t order another, he gestured farther down the bar and told you politely, “From that gentleman.”
He disappeared and you followed where he had pointed to locate the stranger who had bought you another drink. The empty stools that lingered between you felt almost meant to be as the vast expanse of bar made the otherwise crowded place feel like it was only you present. Said gentleman sent you a warm smile as he lounged meticulously on his own barstool, nursing an icy drink of his own, with his light hair styled in neat perfection and his collared shirt ironed crisply and tucked into slacks. You felt silly that you hadn’t noticed him before - his handsome good looks were enough to take your breath away for a moment - but maybe the intrigue of pathetic strangers pitched more entertainment than anything else. 
You sent him a polite smile back and a silent slight nod in appreciation as you swapped out your nearly empty glass for the fresh one. He took that as his invitation and stood from his stool to make his way over to you and you looked away to keep from staring at him as he approached. 
When he was beside you, he spoke gently, his voice smooth and rich in an accent that was too British to be a local, “Hope that wasn’t too forward of me…sending a beautiful stranger a drink from down the bar.”
You allowed yourself to look up at him with a polite smile, finding yourself warm under his handsome gaze, and you replied, “Not at all. I’m flattered.”
He gestured to the free stool to your right, “May I?”
You nodded and permitted him to join you. 
Once he sat and set his own drink down on the bar, he offered his hand out to you, introducing himself as George. You politely took his handshake and introduced yourself in return, to which he let his hand linger in yours for a moment as a friendly smile pricked at his lips. 
“What brings you to Paris?” he inquired.
He was facing towards you on the stool as if in a subconscious way of telling you that you had his full attention. You nursed the icy glass in your hand and let the cold condensation seep into your clammy palm as you told him about your business trip and your luxury design firm that paid for most of it. He was tickled impressed by that and pressed on about how the city was treating you and how you were managing there for the weekend. 
“You’re talking to me like a local, but you don’t sound French.” you noted aloud, “So might I ask what brings you to Paris?”
George smiled faintly to the bar top as if he had been caught red handed, but he played it off with a modest shrug before looking back at you and answering your question, “Work, too. I’ve been here a few weeks just taking in the sights and letting the feel of the city feed my creativity.”
“Are you an artist?” you asked. 
“More of an appreciator.” he stepped over the question before turning the conversation back to you, “Have you been able to see much outside of your tight schedule this weekend?”
You didn’t press him further about his personal life but you didn’t mind sharing some of yours, “A little, but not as much as I’d have hoped. It’s my last night so I’m afraid I might have to book a separate trip to see the sights like a real tourist.”
“Too bad.”
“I know. Then I’d have to pay for the trip myself and no one has that kind of money.”
“Do they not?”
You sent him a pointed gaze but his borderline ignorant statement was countered by his wide teasing smile. 
He sipped his drink. You sipped yours. 
Despite the fact that you were virtually strangers, you found yourself trusting him and you didn’t turn away his questions about you or your life even when he stepped around your inquiries in return. You spoke about art and fashion and design and shared thoughts on recent events and fads. His answers seemed to be shallow and simple but he pressed for depth with yours, luring you into more descriptions of architecture and design and artwork that spoke to you. He was hanging onto your every word, resting on his arm on the bar top with his aquamarine eyes staring unwaveringly into yours like there was no one else in the room. 
Who was this handsome stranger and why was his attention sending butterflies through your stomach?
You found yourselves wasting an hour in that bar with the strangers you once watched fading into the background noise of the jazz music that surrounded you. After a weekend alone, it felt nice to have company and you made sure to tell him just that amidst a momentary lull in your conversation. 
George gave you a smile and dusted his fingertips over your arm, sending shivers up your spine, as he said, “Can I take you to see some sights before you have to leave?”
“It’s kind of late for things to be open, is it not?”
“Not when you know your way around.” he countered. 
You contemplated his offer since he was truly still a stranger, but you were in the city of love and he seemed respectful enough and you found yourself meeting his smile with your own, “Alright.”
George stood from his bar stool and took his wallet from his back pocket to slide his credit card over the counter towards the bartender. He then offered out his hand to you, “Shall we?”
You carefully set your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours so naturally, and you replied softly, “We shall.” 
He helped you off the bar stool and the bartender returned his card to him and George thanked him, pocketed the card, and then gestured you towards the entrance of the bar. 
“I haven’t paid yet.” you protested quietly. 
“I paid for you.” George set his hand faintly on the small of your back, “Now come on.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” you replied bashfully as you made your way through the narrow bar and the crowds of late night patrons towards the door. “I wasn’t-”
“My pleasure.” he insisted, cutting you off with a smile. 
He opened the door for you and you stepped outside into the crisp spring air. George was close behind you and soon you were walking side by side down the Paris sidewalks and passing many closed storefronts and lively nightlife restaurants and bars that lined the streets. The dark sky above was polluted with the city light but you still inhaled the lingering scent of French pastries and wines that made up the city of culture and dreams. You habitually tucked your arms over your chest as you walked, trying to keep yourself in that moment.
“Cold?” George asked. 
“No. I’m okay.” you replied. 
“I’d offer a jacket but I don’t have one on me either.” he chuckled. 
You smiled to the cobblestones for a moment.
Your footsteps fell in steady time against the quiet streets together, walking among the gorgeous architecture side by side with the warmth of alcohol in your veins. With your arms still crossed over your chest, you looked over at George again to speak, “Do I get to know where you’re taking me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered. 
“Well, knowing that I have said yes to going out with some stranger in the middle of the night in a strange city…I wouldn’t be surprised if this was just giving you a perfect excuse to kill me.”
George replied without missing a beat, “You’re too pretty to kill.”
“Oh,” you scoffed, “thanks, I think.” 
You looked at each other from equal heights and you shared tipsy little smiles and he bumped your arm playfully so you knew he was teasing. 
He led the way through the historic streets of Paris and down a few blocks until you reached a spacious green area and he stepped off the path and onto the grass, helping you step over the short rope fence that divided the sidewalk from the gardens. You found thrill in the feeling of his hand in yours so you didn’t pull away, even once you were safely stable on the grass alongside him. George let you hold his hand and his other slid into the pocket of his trousers as you walked side by side slowly. 
The city felt so vacant and yet so full of life all in the same. It was dreamy. George tilted his head back to breathe in the nighttime air and he let it out with a hearty sigh. 
“Nothing like being buzzed while walking through the streets of Paris to make you really feel alive.” he announced. 
You giggled softly and nudged yourself against his arm, finding yourself staying warm from his presence and from the alcohol that had taken to your system, “Very true.”
Straight ahead, at the far end of the lengthy green space you strolled down, the Eiffel Tower stood out from the inky night sky backdrop out in its trims of gold lights and iron. It was nearly breathtaking and you felt the excitement in your chest as you mentally checked a sight off your bucket list. You had only seen it in passing on your short and extremely busy trip to Paris so this was your first time actually having a chance to admire the beauty of its architecture. Better late than never. 
George led you to a nearby bench that faced towards the monumental structure and, without letting go of your hand, you took a seat together. The silence was peaceful between you for a few minutes, both of you just staring up at the Eiffel Tower glittering before you, just living in the moment with a friendly stranger at your side. A few people strolled past in the dark, making their way to their own late night destinations and a couple groups even stopped for pictures of the Tower before continuing on. Seemed as though you were the only two willing to sit and appreciate the man-made beauty with your eyes rather than your cell phones.
When George's hand left yours, you glanced over at him just as he draped his arm over the back of the bench behind you without tearing his eyes away from the beauty of world-renowned architecture. But at the feeling of your eyes on him, he looked at you too, sharing a calm smile through the peaceful night and you naturally felt yourself ease back into the curve of his arm. 
“This okay?” you asked softly, hesitantly. 
“Yeah.” George answered just as gently. “What do you think of our destination?”
You tore your eyes away from his handsome face to look up to the Eiffel Tower again and, with a small smile, you responded, “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s usually so crowded during the day…it’s nice to come past at night and just take a second to sit with your thoughts.”
“I was worried I’d miss my chance to see it.” you confessed. 
“Good thing you chose to go drinking instead then.” George teased. 
You scrunched up your nose with a faint giggle, “Shush.”
He lifted his hand from the bench and gently brushed his fingers through your hair before setting his arm properly around your shoulders. You could feel the shivers down your spine from more than just the chilly night time breeze and you felt your attention drawing to his gaze again. Had he always been that close? Maybe you should have figured he would be since you had gladly leaned into him when you sat down but now you were much more attuned to the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body. He was no more than a stranger to you but there was a pull in your chest to learn more, to figure him out. 
“Why don’t you talk about yourself?” you asked him quietly. 
He shrugged and glanced back towards the Eiffel Tower, “I don’t think there’s much to say. I’d much rather listen to you than drone on about myself…you’re much more interesting.”
He looked back at you with a calm smile.
You scoffed faintly, “I highly doubt that.”
“Miss big fancy designer on her all-expenses-paid international trips. No time for sightseeing but still has an unwavering appreciation for art and literature and everything good in the world. Everything that is just as beautiful as she is.”
His simple explanation of you had you licking away your bashful smile and looking away from him as if needing to hide your blush from the revealing light of the nearby street lamp. He danced his fingertips over your shoulder which sent shivers down your arm and you forced yourself to look back at him. 
“I wanna know more about you, mister knows his way around Paris. Buying tourists drinks in bars and sweet talking his way through intelligent conversation about fashion and art and all the greats. I wanna know why no one has scooped you up yet.”
George shrugged with a faint smile on his lips, “I dunno. No one’s really caught my interest. I’m not much of the settle down type. I like to have the freedom to roam. Today, Paris. Maybe tomorrow; Milan. Athens. Monaco.” 
“Ah, not a man to be tied down, are you?” you teased lightly. 
“I’m 26. I have lots of time.”
“I envy that mindset.”
“You don’t think the same? Taking these years to focus on your career and travel? It seems you do.”
“That’s true.” you agreed, lolling your head forward again to admire the twinkling Eiffel Towel in front of you, “I just sometimes crave to be craved, y’know? Work and travel can only satisfy so much.”
“Love?”
“Yes, but even less than that I’d be willing to have. No one has ever really taken an interest in me despite my best efforts. I want to be one of those summer-fling, no strings attached, live in the moment kind of girls but…I guess that is not me. Not written in my cards.”
You weren’t looking at him but you could feel him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. It felt weird to confess such things to a stranger of all people but at the same time, you would likely never see him again so what did it matter. His fingers scratched gently over your shoulder and that same arm gave you a little squeeze. 
“You cannot be telling me right now that no guy has tried to get with you.” he spoke in near disbelief. 
You looked over at him again, your body resting so close against his side, and you answered honestly, “Nope. And believe it or not, you were the first guy ever to buy me a drink like that.”
“Well, I’m damn proud of it then. I don’t shy away from gorgeous women…unlike clearly every single guy from where you’re from.” 
You set your hand on his thigh with a soft, “You flatter me.” 
He set his opposite hand on top of yours, “You…are beautiful.” 
One look into his eyes and your heart was thudding hard in your chest with a warmth that had to be more than just the alcohol in your system. You didn’t want to look away from him - not even to gaze upon the beauty of the Eiffel Tower just beyond. Instead, you kept your eyes on his and silently took in every inch of his handsome face as if to engrave it into a monument of your very own in your mind. You couldn’t help but worry about the night coming to an end, already getting so ahead of yourself. 
George lifted his hand from yours on his lap to dust his fingers over your cheek and he tucked some of your loose strands of hair behind your ear in the late night breeze. You shivered at his ghostly touch and your eyelids fluttered when he caressed your jaw and held your face in his warm palm for a fleeting moment. But your eyes stayed locked through the moonlit night, illuminated by the sparkling Eiffel Tower nearby, and when he licked his lips briefly, your insides flip flopped in giddy anticipation. 
“This okay?” he asked.
“Mhm.” you hummed contentedly without tearing your gaze away from his perfectly plump lips. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to kiss them until that very moment. 
George's thumb gently dusted over your cheek and he guided you in slowly to let his nose bump testingly against yours, causing you to instinctively turn your face towards his a little more. Your breath shuttered slightly in your chest with your hand resting motionless on his thigh, not wanting to move an inch in case you scared him off; this was too good to be true. 
But in seconds, without hesitation, his arm around your shoulders pulled you closer just as his lips captured yours in a slow kiss by the guidance of his warm hand on your chin. Despite the cliché call for a swell of music and fireworks going off behind the Eiffel Tower, the silence that filled the Parisian streets in your reality rang in your ears with absolute perfection. You both stayed motionless for a few seconds, testing the waters, until George took the initiative to part your lips with his own and your head tilted just enough to go in for a deeper kiss. 
With your hand still on his thigh, your other lifted up to rest on the back of his neck just to make sure he wasn’t going to move away any time soon. He certainly wasn’t planning on it, and the way he kissed you was proof of that. His lips were so pillow soft against yours and they caused the most beautiful butterflies to erupt in your stomach and right down between your legs from only the gentlest kiss. He was so tender with it like he was almost nervous you were going to break at the first touch but then it was your turn to take initiative and you ghosted your tongue along his bottom lip. 
French kissing in Paris. Shamelessly, you mentally checked it off your bucket list once his tongue met yours. 
In the wide open greenery surrounding the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you sat together on a bench without a care in the world, letting the night around you swallow up your public display of affection. It was so out of character for you but it was thrilling all the same and you swore you could have stayed there all night just like that. He kissed you slowly and sensually, his lips fitting so effortlessly with yours and his tongue teasing against yours just the slightest amount. 
George gently took his hand from your face and set it blindly on your lap, sliding his warm palm over the hem of your tight pencil skirt and the outside of your thigh without taking his lips from yours for more than a second. Your body tried to arch against him from your spot at his side with his arm around your shoulders and you could feel him clutch you a little closer under his grasp, tilting his head to the other side for a change of pace through your kisses. 
You could taste the remanence of alcohol on his tongue as you licked your way deeper into his mouth, your fingers holding possessively to the back of his neck and along the high quality fabric of the collar of his shirt. But he fought back insistently for his control as if he were determined to keep the lead of your passionate French kisses and you would never have dreamt of declining him that. In fact, you found yourself so easily succumbing to him that your heart was racing in your chest and you didn’t want to let him go. 
His hand on your thigh left fire in its wake as he caressed you over the fabric of your skirt and dangerously close to the curve of your waist and your ass. In return, you slid your hand farther along the inseam of his slacks, earning a soft moan from his mouth into yours that you swore was the equivalent of angels singing. You couldn’t help but kiss him harder, desperate to taste more of him and those handsome sounds that you prided yourself on the ability to lure from his throat. 
When George started to pull away from your kiss, you leaned after him to chase his kiss for more with a gentle pull to the back of his neck to get him closer. His low chuckle fell against your cheek as he refused your kiss and you settled for a dusting of your lips across the corner of his mouth and his smooth cheek. He smelt so good, so manly, so fresh, so foreign, and you just had to breathe him in for a second. 
His hand rubbed over your thigh and then up your arm to gently grasp your bicep while he leaned his head back just enough to look you in the eye. Then, he offered with a voice so rich and smooth you felt it in your soul, “I have a complimentary bottle of champagne back at the hotel that won’t drink itself.”
His hotel was only two blocks away and neither of you really spoke on your walk over, and especially not about how you both seemed to walk a little quicker than before either. You were silently surprised by the five star hotel he led you into the lobby of, past doormen and sleek modern marble floors towards the elevators. 
Once you reached the sixth floor, his room was only a few paces down from the elevator bay and he pulled the key card from his wallet and opened the door for you politely. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest and in your ears as if your pathetic inexperience was thrilled with the concept of being ruined by whatever lay behind the closed hotel room door. 
The room itself was modest in size but decorated in modern finishes and furniture that matched the ritzy glamour of contemporary Paris filling the entirety of the well-known Pullman Hotel. He had kept his room generally neat with his suitcase resting closed on the floor beside the desk and only his laptop and a few belongings littering the surface. Just inside the entry to the standard hotel room was a mini bar where said bottle of champagne was resting in a half melted bucket of ice. With the door locked behind you, George stepped over to the bar and grabbed the neck of the green bottle to lift it out of the cold water. 
Your eyes were locked on him in his pink toned button up shirt and flattering slacks and you licked your lips before speaking, “I’m just going to freshen up for a sec.”
George glanced over at you and cracked a polite smile, “Sure. I’ll meet you out on the balcony.”
You smiled right back, “Okay.”
The bathroom was just adjacent to the entry door and you helped yourself, closing the door behind you to take a second to pull yourself together. You had never been so reckless with a stranger before and if the past half hour was any inclination of where this night was leading, you were really facing uncharted territory. But you still wanted it so badly and the faint haze of alcohol in your body was enough to mute your anxieties for a little while, just enough to get you to give into the temptation that pulsed within you. 
You took a moment to stare at yourself in the LED framed mirror and wiped the corners of your eyes free of the smudged eyeliner and mascara after a long day and then you fluffed up your hair a little, trying to buy yourself a few seconds before facing the rest of the night with your handsome stranger. He was waiting for you. 
Across the modest hotel room, past the neatly made king size bed and blue upholstered lounge chair, you could see his silhouette on the balcony through the floor to ceiling windows and sheer curtains. As if drawn to him, you were right away drifting across the carpeted floor to the partially open glass door. George looked up at you when you emerged from inside and he sent you a smile and held out a filled glass of bubbling champagne towards you. 
You thanked him softly with a polite smile of your own and took the long stemmed glass from his hand. Then, your attention was captured by the sparkling lights over the railing and, sure enough, the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud over the darkened rooftops of the surrounding buildings, in perfect view from the balcony. 
“Holy shit.” you grinned, reaching a hand out to rest on the railing so you could get a proper look to the right about 30 degrees with the famous monument right beside you. It was even closer than when you had sat together in the park and you peered over the edge of the balcony to look down the street to see the looming shadows of where the large iron feet of the tower rested in the tree lined concrete only a block away. 
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” George spoke from a step behind you. 
“Incredible. I don’t even want to know how much this hotel costs per night with a view like this.” 
George chuckled, “Worth it.”
“Seems so.” 
When the initial awe-struck shock of your view tapered off, the two of you sat on the outdoor chaise lounge together with your glasses of champagne. Like he had in the park, George draped his arm around the back of the seat so he could angle himself towards you slightly to engage in conversation as you saw fit. But you were perfectly happy just staring at him for a little bit, finally able to get a good look at him by the illumination of the balcony light above you. He was so gorgeous. You wondered if this was real. 
“Was it okay that I kissed you earlier?” he asked softly, reaching his thumb out from the back of the lounger just a few centimeters to ghost over your shoulder. 
“Yeah. It was really…really okay.” you admitted with a bashful smile. 
George mirrored your expression and then you both sipped your drinks. 
“Haven’t been kissed like that in a while. And especially not by such a handsome stranger.” you said honestly, hoping he couldn’t quite see the pink of your cheeks in the limited light you were both bathed in. Flirting wasn’t necessarily your forté but somehow, your comment had him scooting a little closer. 
“When was the last time you were kissed at all?” he pressed. 
“Over a year or two.” you answered. “Maybe even more than two…”
George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “That long?”
“Mhm.”
“Certainly didn’t feel like it.”
“You were leading.” you protested softly. 
His fingers raised from the back of the chaise to brush your hair over your shoulder, “And you kept up effortlessly.”
You shared breathy chuckles before you pitched his same question back at him; how long had it been since he was kissed.
“Maybe a month.” he replied as he lifted his glass to his lips as if to hide behind it. 
“Okay.” you scoffed playfully, trying to ignore the feeling that lingered dangerously close to that of jealousy in your chest, “So you’re a handsome art enthusiast who travels wherever he wants thanks to an undisclosed job and hangs out in bars to take tourist ladies back to your hotel room. Starting to see why you don’t feel the need to settle down, mister bachelor.” 
“Hey now.” George tisked, “I’m not a player if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Oh no, of course not.” you assured him casually, “I don’t kiss players.”
His lips perked up at the corner and you sipped your drink behind raised brows. 
George’s head cocked to the side slightly, curiously, and he pitched a question to you, “Well, what do you think my intentions were when I invited you back here?”
It was a teasing inquiry that definitely put you on the spot but you had the wit to counter his remarks. You swirled your glass of champagne gently in your hand with an easy response, glancing out across the night covered city, “To try French champagne with a movie-esque view of the Eiffel Tower, of course.”
George stared at you with that sly little smirk, “Mhm.”
“Why?” you glanced back at him innocently, “Was there something else that you had intended from your generous hospitality?” 
You were sure he had shuffled closer when you weren’t looking and you were almost as close together as you were on the bench moments earlier. His index finger twirled through your hair and then the back of it caressed your flushed cheek as he spoke softly, “Just to show you how a real gentleman appreciates a lady as beautiful and as fascinating as you.”
“Oh yeah?” you licked your lips habitually, your gaze drifting between his eyes and his lips, “And how might that be done?”
“C’mere and I’ll show you.” he whispered.
His voice alone had the ability to make your insides twist with lust and you didn’t need to be asked twice before you were leaning in those few extra centimeters to meet him halfway for another kiss. Your lips locked effortlessly as if the practice at the park came in handy and after your first one, he was pulling away just long enough to move in for more. His hand danced around the side of your neck and the pad of his thumb pressed gently to your jaw to guide you into your sensual kisses on the private hotel room balcony. 
You both leaned into it at the same time, tilting heads and parting lips in unison with champagne glasses held forgotten in your hands. His soft moan into your mouth made your pussy throb and you gave him a little hum in reply, peaceful and content and not wanting him to stop. He read your non-verbal language perfectly as his hand cradling your face slid farther around the side of your neck and his fingers pressed in place there to pull you into him. Your free hand reached out to catch yourself on his thigh thanks to his insistence to get you impossibly closer but you gladly kept right up with his lips and his tongue that teased yours. 
The night air felt hot in that moment and yet you didn’t want to stray even a millimeter away from him. In fact, when he tried to take a second to break away from your kiss for a breath, you reached up from his lap to grab his cheeks in your hand and pull his lips back to yours. His chuckle was warm and low against your mouth and you could taste it on your tongue as his pushed back against yours in retaliation. Your kisses were lustful and full of silent desire but they were slow and savouring as if each single kiss had your entire heart and soul put into each one. You sucked on his tongue greedily, earning another pretty groan out of his chest and he nipped at your bottom lip and gave you one more off center kiss before he was dropping his face into your neck. 
Your hand that had taken to his cheeks slid around his shoulder instead and your mouth fell open, peacefully agape, as you stared out towards the Eiffel Tower in the near distance, sparking against the inky night sky, while your handsome stranger kissed up your neck. His lips were so heavenly and your eyes fluttered with bliss as he trailed open mouthed kisses across your tender skin, his hand still secure at the back of your neck, holding you in place. You could feel his warm breath leave shivers in its wake and you bit your lip instinctively as your senses were focused all on him. 
You never knew neck kisses could feel that good and you let him know through soft hums of appreciation and the way your fingers grasped the back of his button up shirt. No one had ever kissed you like that and any hints of nervousness that had once grazed your mind were thrown out the window by his effortless touch. He sucked gently on your supple skin before soothing it with a modest lick and you leaned your head back so he could take the hint to let up from your neck in exchange for your lips again. Gladly accepting, you shared a few more loud sloppy kisses before he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip and gave it a little tug as he pulled away. Side by side on the outdoor chaise lounge, your eyes met in your close proximity, pupils blown wide, and your half-empty champagne glasses were still held in your hands.
George licked his lips and you shifted your hand from the back of his shoulder to trace the shape of them with the pad of your index finger. He spoke to you quietly through your touch, “You said guys don’t really take interest in you…so how far have you actually gone before?”
“Such a salacious thing to ask a lady.” you tisked in mock offense before bringing your hand back to your lap.
“Just trying to set our boundaries for tonight.” he protested with a handsome grin that he licked away.
“I will be comfortable with anything we decide to do.” you answered honestly and almost too easily.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Annoying, isn’t it?” you pushed back at him. “I need a little sense of mystery too. You can’t be the only mysterious stranger here.”
He cocked an eyebrow behind a sip of his drink before answering, “Touché.”
“My experience is limited.” you elaborated slightly, “But I am more than willing to experiment.” 
George swirled his finger around the rim of his glass with his eyes focused all on you as if he were debating his next move. You waited, willing to make him work for it a little, tucked up beside him in the Parisian night with a gentle breeze in your hair. You were sitting so close together that you could smell him and you wanted to completely engulf yourself in him that instant. There must have been something about the French air that just ignited this unfamiliar lust within you. 
But apparently George was of the same mindset, undoubtedly sealed by the steamy kiss you had just shared, because his next question was so blunt that it nearly took the air from your lungs. He asked it softly, gently, with his hand trailing over your shoulder and your collarbones and down the neckline of your blouse, “So you’ve never had cum on your tits before?” 
You stared at how he stared at you, and you replied with a whisper, “I’ve never had cum on anything before, to be honest.”
“Well let’s change that.” he pitched, “You wanna?”
You bit back your smile and nodded without hesitation. 
He leaned forward to set his champagne glass on the outdoor table beside the bucket of melting ice and you rested yours down too, unable to smother the grin that was only growing wider across your face. The moment his glass was out of his hand, George was leaning back against the back of the chaise lounge and starting to unbuckle his belt. You tucked one leg up underneath you so you were facing towards him a bit better and you caressed down the front of his shirt with a gentle hand while leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth and, when he turned his head in your direction, you kissed his lips. 
The sound of his belt buckle clanking faintly as he unpinned it had your insides stirring with lust and as you kissed him like you had only a few seconds before, you reached down to help him out a little. You were both impatient for it and thus you both broke your kiss to look down towards his lap as he finally got his belt undone and you took the initiative to pop the button of his pants and tug down the zipper. His hips flexed up towards your hand naturally with him lounged back on the chaise and his feet flat on the ground, so willing to let you take to him however you saw fit. 
“Did you want me to suck your dick?” you asked softly as if nervous someone was nearby to overhear, with your hand still tucked around the waistband of his pants. 
George stared up at you with sweet blue eyes and a sultry smile to match, “Yeah. If you want to.”
You exchanged a genuine smile with him before you were standing up from the chaise lounge and pitching, “On my knees?”
“However you want, gorgeous.” he answered smoothly. 
You tucked your hair behind your ears and gently scooted the small outdoor table out of the way so you had room to sink to your knees in front of him. The floor of the hotel room balcony was cool and strenuous against your bare knees but your attention was focused on things other than your own personal comfort as you tugged at the waistband of his pants to start to shimmy them down his legs. George shifted slightly to help you take them off and he kicked off his shoes at the same time and discarded both articles to the side, leaving him in only his underwear and his button up shirt. 
Your warm hands slid up his thighs and to his waist, allowing you to lean in towards his lap with your eyes set on the sizable bulge in the front of his underwear. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your mouth was watering and you licked your lips before leaning down to kiss him through the fabric, raising your gaze up to his face when you dropped out your tongue to tease over the shape. With a shaky exhale of anticipation, George brushed his hand through your hair softly to keep it out of your way and didn’t dare to tear his eyes away from you as your gentle hand moved to the front of his underwear and your palm rubbed over him warmly. 
You could feel how hard he was already through the thin material of his briefs and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip lustfully to try and bite back the excited grin that came with the racing of your heart. In fact, you could easily wrap your fingers around the thick shape of his cock and give it a little squeeze just to feel it twitch in response with a soft groan from the man who laid before you. Leaning down towards him, you pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to the kiss of his pelvis that was peeking out from under his underwear and the hem of his shirt before giving him another one right over the Calvin Klein label across the waistband. 
“Didn’t know you were such a fucking tease.” George said quietly, draping his arms across the back of the chaise lounge. 
You smiled up at him proudly before linking your fingers in the sides of his underwear and started to pull them down his thighs, carefully lifting the snug fabric over his hard cock as you released it from the confines. His briefs were dropped haphazardly down his shins and he kicked them to the side to give himself free reign, unable to stop staring at the way you stared at him so wide-eyed and angelic. 
With your hands resting sweetly on his thighs, you were shamelessly gaping at the first hint of masculinity that you had seen in ages and the first one you so desperately wanted to see. You didn’t even realize you could think a cock was gorgeous, but his was. Perfectly shaped with trimmed dark brown hair around the base and down over his balls, you couldn’t stop gawking at him. It naturally rested up against the dip between his pelvis and his thigh from how hard he was, swollen so thick and large that part of you wondered how you were supposed to fit the whole thing in your mouth. And the tip was so pretty and blush pink that you just had to reach out and gingerly dust your fingertip across it, making his cock twitch at your ghostly touch. 
You then wrapped your hand around it to lift it up away from his body and angled it towards your mouth so you could purse your lips and let a thick string of saliva fall onto the head and it dripped down the side. George shuttered slightly and you looked up at his face again just as you dropped out your tongue and licked at the sensitive underside of his pretty pink tip. It was then quickly followed by another precise lick right up the shaft of his cock with your dragging your flat tongue wetly right along his flesh to taste every inch of him. 
Both of you let out soft hums of appreciation at the same time and as George’s lips perked up at the corner at your mirrored responses, you wrapped yours around the head of his dick and slowly sucked on it. His head fell back slightly with a tight groan from his throat at the first feeling of your mouth taking him over and you caressed it with your tongue in messy swirls at the same time. But then you were pulling off him with a wet pop and you tucked your hair behind your ears again before taking hold of the base of his cock again to keep him steady as you sank your mouth down around him. 
Like a true gentleman, your handsome stranger reached down with both hands to gently pull your hair away from your face and over your shoulders and into a snug make-shift ponytail in his grasp. With your hand still holding him steady, you gave him shallow testing motions of your warm wet mouth, making sure to hollow your cheeks on each up stroke to suck on him prettily. 
“God, you’re such a good girl.” George exhaled with that honey rich tone of voice that made your pussy throb under your skirt. 
You moaned around him at his praise and let yourself drool down his cock as you sped up your mouth a little with your hand starting to use your spit as lubrication to stroke him off at the same time. His grasp in your hair followed the motions of your head easily and he peered down at you through lustful eyes as you took his cock in your mouth like it was your day job. 
“You like praise, baby?” he pressed on quietly. 
You lifted up from his lap to look up at him with your hand taking over on his dick in quick pumps as you answered, “Yeah.” 
“Yeah?” George smirked softly back at you, his eyebrows raising when you dribbled more spit down onto his cock in your hand without tearing your gaze away from his. 
Then you were sinking your mouth back down around him and taking him in against your tongue through plush drooly lips, matching the pace with your hand until the faint wet rhythmic squelch filled the private hotel balcony. It was hard to believe that even after having him in your mouth, you were still salivating for more. 
George played to that perfectly as he kept holding your hair back in one fist as he spoke down to you in that velvet accent of his, “I know you can be a good girl for me and take more of my cock in your pretty mouth.”
Your eyes nearly rolled at his filthy words and you moaned in acknowledgement around him before gently shaking your head to get yourself deeper. Tears pricked your eyes slightly as you forced yourself farther down on him until the head of his cock was nudging into the tight confines of your throat. You gagged faintly around him but kept yourself bobbing your mouth along the length of his dick steadily until your spit was leaking over your hand and down his balls. 
“That’s it,” he exhaled, “Just like that, baby, fuck.”
George tucked one hand behind his head, looking so handsome in that button up shirt and nothing else, his legs spread on either side of you to give you a spot to kneel with your face in his lap. You slid your free hand up his waist and tucked the hem of his shirt in your thumb so you could push the fabric up and out of the way slightly, only moaning around his cock when you felt the faint arches and valleys of his abs under your palm. You just wanted to give him everything. 
The gags that were forced from your throat only got louder as you pushed yourself onwards and bobbed your head down on him a little faster, thankfully still quiet enough to stay within the open confines of the balcony you were on. Your grasp on his slicked up cock kept in time with your mouth in long twisting strokes, guiding your motions effortlessly. 
“Fuck, baby.” George groaned, “Your mouth feels so fucking good, holy shit.” 
Driven with lustful desire, you pulled off of him with your tongue dragging up the underside of his cock in your wake, and you gasped out of it filthily but still kept your hand around him securely as you pitched your plea, “Can I eat your ass too?”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the salacious request that you offered with such an angelic smile but he nodded, “Yes. Yeah, baby, that’s so fucking hot.” 
You grinned up at him and helped him lift his feet up from the ground so his body weight was resting back against the chaise lounge and he let go of your hair so both of his hands could grasp the backs of his knees to keep himself spread for you. You removed your hand from his dick to set both palms on his ass and spread his cheeks open, your heart racing in your chest and your throat as this handsome man laid spread before you, completely at your mercy. 
“Has anyone rimmed you before?” you asked. 
“No. But I’ve been curious.” he answered to the balcony above as if he were almost nervous to look at you. 
“Good.” you leaned down and spit loudly on his perineum, “We’ll each have something new to experience tonight.”
“What’s that saying? What happens in Paris…” George said playfully. 
You shared light laughter.
Then, he asked, “Have you ever rimmed someone before?”
“Nope.” you replied, “But you’re so fucking hot and it made me want to really badly.” 
He couldn’t get another response out before you were leaning in and dragging your flat tongue right over his asshole, smearing your spit right across it and up to his balls. 
“Fuck.” George lifted his head to look down at you.
You sent him a salacious smile from between his legs and slid your palms up the backs of his thighs before leaning in to swirl the tip of your tongue around his tight rim of muscle and you prodded at it gently. His mouth was agape as he stared at you in near awe, watching how you licked and kissed at his asshole until your right hand was reaching up to wrap around his hard cock to lazily jerk him off at the same time. He moaned lowly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to try and keep himself quiet in the open balcony you found yourselves on. 
Your hand around his swollen dick kept pumping him in messy flicks of your wrist angled up towards his abdomen while your tongue swirled and lapped at his asshole to pull another tight groan from his chest. It felt so good to bring him pleasure and you couldn’t help but drop your other hand down to gently grasp his balls in your warm palm, kneading them tenderly, and George’s head fell back against the lounge. 
“Fucking hell.” he exhaled shakily. “God, this feels fucking insane.” 
You giggled sweetly and kissed the doughy flesh of his ass and then gave him one last proper lick before you were rising up onto your knees properly and guiding his cock back into your mouth. He let out a tight grunt at the surprising feeling of your warm wet tongue taking to his aching dick and he heaved his head up from the back of the couch and reached a hand down right away to tangle in your hair again. But you were a step ahead and you were already starting to bob your mouth down around him in sloppy strokes, only made stronger by his little tugs of your head towards his lap that made you choke steady around him.
“I love how you gag when I push it deeper.” he said through his teeth, “Such a good fucking girl.”
You kept your other hand on his balls and cupped them in your palm and squeezed faintly, making his cock twitch against your tongue. You were honestly making a bit of a mess with the tears pricking your eyes and the drool slipping down your chin and over your hands that cradled him lustfully. George’s hand in your hair kept you going a little faster and his feet slipped off the edge of the lounger to rest back on the ground, spread nice and wide for your mouth to take as much of him as possible as his breaths fell heavier into the nighttime air. 
But then he was slowing you down with a, “Fuck, okay, stop a second.”
You pulled off of him right away with a gasp for air, a thick string of saliva breaking away from the head of his cock and it dripped down your chin for you to wipe it away with the back of your hand. He sat himself up a little more from his slouching position and his hand took your place around his dick in those quick pumps. 
“Can you take your shirt off for me?” he asked, although his tone had just the perfect hint of demanding. 
You licked away your grin at what you knew was coming and you hurried to unbutton your blouse in front of him from your knees. It was dropped to the side with his slacks and his shoes and you took the initiative to let your bra join it, too driven by the dangerous combination of lust and alcohol to overthink anything. 
“Fuck, good girl.” he praised with his eyes glued to your chest and his hand keeping strong strokes around his cock. 
You reached up to graze your fingers around your hardened nipples before groping your breasts in your full palms. George groaned lowly and shuffled a little closer to the edge of the chaise lounge, his feet still anchored on the ground with you kneeling prettily between them. His dick in his hand was right in front of you, just below eye level, and you pursed your lips to drip more of your spit onto the pretty pink tip for him to smear in with his secure hand in quick erotic pumps. 
“You’re so fucking filthy.” he whispered strongly, “You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” 
“Please.” you begged with a soft voice, peering up at him behind long lashes as your hands pushed your breasts together, “Please cum on my tits.” 
“Fuck.” George groaned through his teeth, his biceps bulging with how close he was getting himself and the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock was apparent over your shared heavy breaths on the balcony. 
“I’m your good little slut.” you breathed. 
You could literally hear him choke over his next breath but that fact only brought a proud smirk to your face as you watched him succumb to your simply crafted words, his hand tugging faster at his cock with his jaw clenching tightly. 
“Yeah, gimme it.” you whispered, “Cum all over me.” 
In seconds, George’s face was scrunching up and his hand was shuttering on his dick just before he came with a moan that was smothered by his bitten lip. You watched with wide eyes as the first pretty white spurt streaked across your chest as your hands held your breasts together for him, giving him room to paint you in ribbons of creamy white. 
“Oh my God.” you groaned heartily as you stared down at yourself and the mess he made, the last few drops slipping out of the tip and down the shaft of his dick towards his fist. Cheekily, you dropped out your tongue and lapped at the leaking slit at the head of his cock to clean him up a little and to watch how it made him flinch sensitively. 
“Oh my God.�� George echoed, his chest rising and falling quickly behind his pretty button up shirt while your eyes met. 
You bit your lip excitedly at the realisation of what had just happened and the lust that had taken to your mind only flowed through you even stronger than before. You leaned up from your knees to push your lips on his in an off centered kiss and George gladly grabbed your cheek in his hand to keep kissing you. Both of you were greedy and sloppy with it without an ounce of politeness in sight as you French kissed overlooking the Parisian night sky and George’s hands ran up your hips and over your bare breasts that were still streaked in dripping cum.
You stood up between his legs without tearing your lips or tongue away from his, only mumbling into his kiss as you held yourself up on his bare thighs, “My pussy is so fucking wet.”
He danced his fingertips down your torso to the waistband of your skirt, “Can I feel?”
“Yeah.” you answered easily into his mouth. 
George’s lips locked with yours again as his hand helped itself up your skirt until it was bunching around your mid-thighs and he could glide his fingers over your panties. Standing between his legs and bent over at the waist towards him, you held his face in your hands to keep kissing him even as he moaned into your mouth at the discovery of the soaked through fabric. 
You didn’t stop him as he gently nudged your wet panties to the side to glide his fingers over your pussy, slicking them up in your warm arousal in taunting back and forth caresses. You shared deep moans into each other’s mouths, trying to stay quiet in the outdoor setting but it was hard when the lust that joined you together was unbearably strong. 
“You’re fucking soaked.” George mumbled into your kiss, rubbing his fingers a little harder between your slick lips. 
You sucked on his tongue as you pulled away from his mouth, offering bravely, “Wanna taste it too?”
He licked his lips behind his obvious smirk, “Yeah.”
You stood up straighter as if preparing to swap spots with him but George had other plans. 
He gestured across the balcony, “Lean forward against the railing.” 
It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 
While you turned yourself around to face the edge of the balcony and the city of Paris beyond, the sparkling Eiffel Tower to the right of the hotel urged you closer to the railing for an idyllic view. The darkness of the night provided sufficient shadows over your exhibitionist scene on the sixth floor balcony for you to feel too shy from any potential onlookers at street level with you in absolutely nothing from the waist up. George was right up behind you in an instant though with his hands on your body and his lips on your neck, kissing right up under your ear to make you shiver and you reached a hand back to tangle in his hair over your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. 
He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point as you could tell by the feeling of his bare chest pressing against your bare back and the sensation of his warm skin against yours was invigorating. But it wasn’t long before he was kissing down your shoulder and down your spine and sinking to his knees behind you, taking your skirt down with him in his greedy hands. You stepped out of it and let him toss it to the side before his hands were groping the flesh of your ass and he nudged his face right between your cheeks, guarded only by the thin lace of your panties. 
George kissed teasingly over the curve of your cheeks and then sunk his teeth into the fabric of your underwear gently, earning a soft mewl from you as you leaned farther over the railing and he gave them a tug. Then they were coming off next and you were standing naked at the edge of the balcony, guarded only by the night sky and the arch of your body in an attempt to keep yourself guarded behind the railing. George’s large hands pulled at your cheeks to spread you open for his hungry eyes and then he was leaning in and licking right up over your pussy. 
You shuttered with a soft gasp, flinching under the touch of his tongue, and your fingers wrapped around the smooth metal of the railing. He lapped at your pussy lazily for a few seconds, tasting his first indulgence of you until he was sitting back with a moan and a lick to his lips. 
“Fuck, you taste so good.” he breathed, giving your ass a jiggle before he was moving back in. 
You giggled softly through the Parisian night and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you focused all your attention on the feeling of his tongue gliding up between your folds and tasting how you dripped for him. He groaned against your pussy and kept his hands on your ass and your hips to hold you on his face as he parted his pillow soft lips to take more of you in his mouth in greedy suckles. 
Your eyes fluttered as you stared out across the rooftops to the sparkling Eiffel Tower under the sensations of his heavenly mouth on your cunt. Spreading your feet a little farther apart in your heels, you pushed back against his face to earn another hearty moan out of his chest and he gently shook his head to smother himself in your body as he licked you out with a skilled tongue. Your body burned for more and you moved a hand from the railing to reach back and tangle in his hair, pulling his face in where you needed him. George took your guidance and shifted a little lower to flick at your clit, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. 
He took a hand from your hip to slide two fingers in his mouth for a quick second before he was reaching between your legs and rubbing his fingertips over your swollen clit. Your moan was muffled by your bitten lip and you pushed back against his touch, drunk on the feeling of him touching you in all the right spots like he knew you so well. His tongue kept prodding at your pussy and licking up the sweet arousal that leaked out of you by his own mere presence, tasting you with pleasant moans of his own. 
You were trying to be quiet as you faced the city beyond but he certainly wasn’t making it easy. Your hand in his hair ended up making it back to the cool metal railing as you were desperate for something to hold onto to stabilize yourself. In the silence of the night, you mouthed a swear word to the sky and rocked your hips back slowly against his mouth and fingers. George hummed against you and then pulled away with a slurp for more quick flicks of his tongue across your cunt.
But then he was sitting back on his knees slightly to ask you quietly, “Can I put my thumb in your ass?”
Your eyes widened, “Really?”
“If you want it.” he kissed your cheek, fingers still ghosting over your clit as if comfortingly. 
You felt entirely trusting of him and you permitted him with a mumbled, “Okay. Be gentle though.” 
He kissed your hip, “Of course.” 
You heard him suck on his thumb for a moment and then pull it from his lips with a wet pop and then he was spitting loudly onto your asshole. This was so far into uncharted territory for you that you swore your eyes were nearly as wide as saucers as you stared across the city and focused on the twinkling starriness of the Eiffel Tower just to your right. The pad of his thumb swirled faintly around your tight rim of muscle before he was slipping it inside just a little, just down to the first knuckle. 
Then his tongue was on you again, lapping at your pussy eagerly with that added fullness of his thumb that had you biting harder on your bottom lip as the warmth cascaded through your body. It was only helped by his fingers on your clit and the way he rubbed quick precise strokes to the sensitive, swollen bud that eased you into this newfound world of lust you had never had the chance to explore before. 
“This okay?” he asked breathily against your cunt. 
“Yeah.” you answered quickly. 
He chuckled warmly into you and let his tongue do the talking, giving you long full strokes in quick succession that had you legs flinching for a second. You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs as the seconds passed, undoubtedly mixed in erotically with his spit as the filthy wet sounds of his mouth grew messier by the second. His cum was slipping down your chest and between your breasts too but what was once a feeling you would have hated was suddenly filled with a new sense of lust that made you feel claimed by him; this handsome stranger whom you trusted all too easily. The moan that fell from your lips was accidental. 
George pulled away from your pussy with a wet slurp and he took his hands back to squeeze your hips before he was dropping out his tongue and licking right up your spine until he reached your neck and his hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head back so he could get his lips on yours. You kissed him gladly, shamelessly throbbing under his obvious dominance, and you reached a hand back to pull him closer by the back of his neck, licking your way into his mouth to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 
Standing together naked on the balcony, your silhouettes stood out against the illuminated hotel room to the Paris horizon, and he was so close to you that you could feel his hard cock pressing against the back of your thigh. Despite his obvious physical urgency, he was a gentleman and he let you pull kisses from his lips until you made the next move. Of course, it didn’t take you long since the arousal in your own bloodstream was driving you wild, and when you broke your kiss and his lips met your neck, you breathed your plea into the Parisian evening, 
“Please fuck me.” 
George’s groan against your neck was shiver worthy and you tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed up under your ear. 
“Right here.” you added. “Right now. Please fuck me.” 
He nipped at your ear lobe, “Okay…I gotta get a condom.” 
“Just pull out.” you exhaled, pulling his lips back on yours hungrily by your hand at the nape of his neck. 
After sharing a few more feverish kisses, he asked, “You sure?”
“Are you clean?” you asked. 
“Yeah. Of course.” he answered respectfully. 
“Then yeah.” you wiggled your bare ass back against his cock, feeling the way it slipped so easily between your cheeks. Your teeth captured your bottom lip again as your hands fell gently onto the railing and you ground yourself back on him slowly, tauntingly, impatiently. 
George stood up straighter behind you and shuffled up closer, resting his left hand on your shoulder while his right slid the head of his cock along your pussy to collect more of that creamy wetness you were covered in. You arched a little more for him, bending right over until your forearms were balanced parallel across the flat railing and your ass was pressed right up against his body. 
“I can already feel how warm you are just like this.” he mumbled into the nighttime air. 
“So get inside.” you pitched. 
His hand tightened on your shoulder as he took your invitation gladly and carefully slipped the head of his dick inside you. The initial stretch had your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth dropping open at the stinging ache it pushed across your hips but you weren’t going to offer a single complaint. Especially not when his rich moan at his first feeling of your pussy gripping his cock had you set ablaze. 
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he exhaled. 
You hung your head with a small whine as he pushed in a little more and both of his hands were at your shoulders before sliding down the curve of your back. You were afraid to speak as if he would be able to hear the quiver in your voice from the way he stretched you open so agonizingly. His palms caressed your hips and up the side of your torso and he gave you a few shallow thrusts. 
“Can I put it all in?” he asked softly. 
You lifted your head up and tried to look back at him over your shoulder in weak surprise, “This isn’t all of it?”
He chuckled, “No. I’m only halfway.” 
“Fuck.” you gaped before turning back to the skyline, “Yeah, gimme it all.” 
You braced yourself on the railing as he sank deeper inside your tight cunt, filling you up snugly until you could feel that aching pressure deep inside you. The soft whimper that fell from your lips when he fit entirely inside you and his skin pressed right up against your ass was involuntary and his hand pressed to your mouth right after. 
“This okay?” he asked against your ear as he leaned over you slightly. 
“Mhm.” you mumbled into his palm. 
“You’re such a good girl.” he praised you lustfully, “Taking every last fucking inch of me with the whole city watching.” 
You moaned quietly against his hand again and he gave you a slow testing thrust that made your eyes roll shut and your fingers tightened on the railing. George’s soft breath against your neck was warm and invigorating and as the strain across your hips faded into more pleasure than pain as your body grew used to it, you found yourself pushing back against him. It encouraged him to thrust into you a little faster, a little harder, and you arched your back a little deeper for him.
“That’s it.” he exhaled, keeping one hand over your mouth with his other grabbing the flesh of your waist to pull you back into his every thrust. “Fuck.”
In only a few seconds, your secret exhibitionist rendezvous on the hotel balcony was growing louder with the wet slap of skin thanks to your own slick arousal and his spit that had slicked you up at the same time, now only made worse by the pleasure he introduced to your body that made you drip down his cock. It was a consistent rhythm of gentle beats, punctuated by his balls hitting your clit at that perfect angle that had you moaning into his hand still clamped over your mouth. 
Your hazy gaze peered over the Paris rooftops and out towards the Eiffel Tower, dizzy with wonder as to how this was real life. It was an erotic movie moment, you were sure. How could a man so glorious as him want to take you back to his hotel like this? You weren’t willing to complain, however. Especially not when his strong strokes had any thoughts tumbling out of your brain and vanishing into thin air right before you. Balanced on your black heels spread shoulder width apart, you were leaning so effortlessly over the railing at its perfect height with that angle that allowed the head of his cock to plunge so precisely into you over and over again. 
“Oh my God, George.” you moaned into his hand, trying to turn away from his restricting palm but he kept a secure grasp over your mouth. So you were stuck muttering against his hand, “Feels so good.”
Your sounds of pleasure pulled a soft grunt from his chest, holding onto you has he fucked you over the hotel railing until you were both huffing with desire for more. But it was overwhelming and addicting and it was getting harder to hold back the moans that were born at the back of your throat, even with his hand covering your mouth. You couldn’t help yourself as you started to get a little loud, struggling to hold back amidst the pleasure he introduced to your body, and soon his hand wasn’t doing much anymore as your moans tumbled over the Parisian rooftops and to the street below. 
“Shh.” George reminded you against your ear, still thrusting away into your pussy just hard enough to keep those steady claps of his skin against yours going. He slipped his index finger past your lips with the rest of his hand still pressed to your mouth and as you sucked on it gladly, he spoke lowly to you, “Keep your voice down. Someone could hear you being a dirty fucking slut for me.”
But, of course, his little ‘threat’ only had you moaning louder with lust around his finger and you greedily dropped your other hand down from the railing to rub at your aching clit. The way your body pulsed around him had him dropping his head back for a moment, mouthing a swear word to the balcony directly above you without faltering for a second. 
Unbeknownst to the both of you, down on street level, there was a recreational park opposite the hotel at which a group of young men were playing soccer. The silence of the night and the vacancy of the street had allowed for the sounds of your attempted secret balcony rendezvous to be carried from the sixth floor and down to the park. One of them spotted you first, pointing up to the balcony to his friends to catch a glimpse of the salacious tourists. One stuck his pinkies in his mouth and whistled loudly, earning the quickly following hollers of his friends in your direction. 
Your attention was pulled from the night sky to the group of young men down below in the park and your eyes widened, “Oh my God.”
You could feel George smirk against your temple, “Wanna put on a fucking show, do you? I told you to be quiet.” 
Now having been found out, George removed his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead and he pulled your head right back so his lips could graze against your ear while his hips shoved hard against yours over and over in quick succession. 
“This okay?” he whispered. 
You nodded, “Uh huh.”
“Yeah? You want me to choke you?”
“Fuck, yeah.” you breathed, staring longingly into his eyes over your shoulder while your fingers kept rubbing messily at your clit. 
George’s eyes darted past you before meeting your gaze again, “They’re fucking watching.” 
“Don’t stop.” you pleaded, keeping your stone grip on the railing. “Please, don’t stop.” 
“You’re so fucking dirty.” he spoke to you through his teeth, tightening his hand around your throat and you whimpered desperately against his lips with how close you were together, your body nearly bouncing on his cock with how strongly he was fucking you over the railing. “You gonna cum for me?”
“Fuck, yes, I wanna cum for you.” you answered obediently, drunk on lust as if the real world were universes away. 
“For me and those men down there watching you get fucked with my cum all over your tits?”
“Yeah.” you whimpered, twitching with pleasure and your heels scuffed across the concrete ground of the balcony. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” George groaned against your cheek, still keeping that steady pace of every thrust into your sopping body. “That’s it, baby, just fucking take it.” 
You could feel your pleasure building and building, trembling inside you with tight warmth that overwhelmed your senses that you didn’t even care about your public standing as you cried out for him euphorically. And he seemed equally enthralled by your desire to be loud for him despite your onlookers, fucking you a little stronger just to help you out a little more with his hand around your throat pulling your lips onto his for a few off-centered kisses. 
“That’s it. Yes!” you squeaked, pulling away from his kiss, “Fuck, I’m cumming!” 
The pleasure that tore through you was unbelievable and your breath caught in your lungs and your pussy gripped right up around him. George’s thrusts stalled for just a second as you tightened up so strongly around him that it was hard for him to move but he recovered quickly and kept fucking you right through your orgasm with hushed praised against your ear. 
You tore your hand from between your legs to join your other on the railing, gasping through the crisp night air as your legs quivered in your heels slightly, “Shit.”
“Good girl, good girl.” George took his hand from your throat to grab two hands of your hips to keep fucking into you, “Stay just like that.”
The feeling of him pulling out had you whimpering and the sound of his hand on his cock replaced it, jerking himself off in a few strokes before he was coming again, right across your ass and a little up your back. His moans were quiet but rich and full of life and your jaw fell slack at the sound like that was enough to finish you off again too. You gave him a little wiggle for emphasis as the warm splatters painted your skin until his hand was resting down against your waist and caressing your hip. 
“That was so good.” you admitted with a bashful smile, resting your face down on your arms that held you up against the railing. 
George leaned down over you and kissed your neck, “Glad you think so.”
“Are they still down there?” you asked in a whisper. 
He glanced over your shoulder down towards the park across the street before answering with a, “Doesn’t look like it.” 
You hummed flatly. He kissed between your shoulder blades. 
“Now what?” you asked. 
“I kinda wanna eat you out some more.” he confessed with his lips ghosting across your back. 
Your eyebrows raised as did your head and you tried to turn to look at him, “Really?”
“If you’re up for continuing what we have just started…unless you have to leave.” George said, leaving another fleeting kiss to your shoulder. 
“I’m all yours.” you answered giddily. 
“Okay,” his voice was smiling, “Then turn around.”
You obeyed and stood up straighter so you could turn to face him and right away his hand was sliding up the side of your neck and he was pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands rested against his torso that was only slightly exposed under his open button up and you greedily danced your fingertips down his abdomen and around to his waist to urge him closer. He smiled against your lips and then he was reaching down to grab you by the backs of your thighs and he hoisted you right off the ground. You shrieked in surprise and you shared laughter into your kisses as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders and he carried you towards the balcony door. 
Despite the fact that you had already done plenty outside, your entire body felt giddy for more and his obvious desire to give you more was arousing in itself. George helped himself to the hotel room as you clung onto him and once the door was kicked shut behind him, he was dropping you backwards onto the king size bed just inside. Laying naked across the width of the neatly made bed that felt like you were draped across a cloud, you grinned up at him in the sparkling Eiffel Tower lights that leaked in from outside and from the addition of the warm bedside sconces. 
In nothing but that open button up shirt, George dropped to his knees at the side of the bed as if ready to whisper a prayer to you and his hands wrapped around your calves to yank you closer to the edge. With a lick to his lips, he stared down at your glistening pussy with how you were casually spread for him and he dragged two fingers right between your folds, lightly spreading you open for him to drop a thick string of spit right onto you. You were already plenty prepped but it was clear he liked it messy - not to mention the mess of his you were still smeared in over front and back - and you would never dream of complaining. You swore he could do anything to you in that moment and you would take it gladly. 
But at the same time, you were still quite sensitive from your escapades on the balcony so the first touch of his tongue on your pussy had your entire body flinching. He held your thighs back and licked right up from your ass to your clit in one strong solid stripe with his blue eyes finding yours as you gaped down at him from where you were resting back on your forearms against the bed. He licked his smirking lips and turned to leave a few slow wet kisses to your inner thigh before nipping teasingly at the skin and then soothing it with a lick. 
Then he was moving back in towards your pussy and he was lapping at it like a sweet kitten with his warm hands circling your thighs to hold you on his mouth. You whimpered to the ceiling as your head fell back and your fingers behind you grasped onto the tightly pulled duvet. You were just so sensitive that you tried to close up your legs and push yourself away from his mouth with pitchy moans that tumbled from your chest so freely. 
George wasn’t giving up without a fight and he shifted his hands around your thighs in exchange for his arms and he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed to keep you from squirming away, smothering his mouth right up against you and his tongue deep inside you. You gasped hard to the ceiling, nose scrunching up, and you dropped onto your back against the plush bed with a tight groan as your hand tangled in his hair. He ate you out like he had known your body his whole life, finding all the right places with his tongue while his nose brushed and nudged against your clit. 
“Oh s-shit-” you squeaked, desperately trying to push yourself away from his eager mouth with how sensitive you were, the intensity shooting up your spine in shockwaves. 
George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and another kiss to your thigh before he was instructing lowly, “Hold your ankles for me.” 
You easily followed his demands, taking your ankles in your gentle grasp and you wiggled your heels off your feet at the same time so they dropped to the carpeted floor dully. 
“Spread your legs as wide as you can for me and hold them there.”
George spoke like he knew what he was doing so you didn’t question it as you guided your legs out to the sides widely, held in place by your hands around your ankles. 
“Good girl.” he praised, running his hands up your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “You’re such a good listener for me.” 
With his eyes on yours, he leaned back down towards your pussy and left a slow open mouthed kiss right over your clit, leading with his tongue, and you flinched at his ghostly touch. 
“Mm, do you wanna cum again for me, sweetheart?”
His voice was so buttery smooth, you could feel yourself pulse by only his words and he felt it too as his lips pricked into a smile and he took that - and your soft whine - as answer enough. George wrapped one arm around your thigh so he could dust the pad of his thumb over your clit in soft caresses while his tongue lapped at your leaking pussy. 
“Oh my God.” you groaned, tightening your hands around your ankles, “Keep that up and it won’t take me long.” 
“Mhm?” George smirked against you, turning his head slightly so he was almost resting his cheek on the dip of your thigh and your pelvis, still teasing his tongue along the slit of your cunt. Then his fingers were following and they were slicked up in his dripping spit and your warm arousal, sliding over your pussy and between your glistening lips and under his tongue and then he was slowly sinking two inside you. 
Your angelic “ahh” had him hushing you sweetly as he watched his two fingers sink deeper inside of you. His thumb pulled away from your clit and gave your doughy hip another tender squeeze as he praised you honestly, “Good girl, taking my fingers almost as good as you took my cock.”
You hummed in half appreciation, until his tongue was on your clit and you were gasping hard and arching against the bed. His hot breath on your wet skin was shiver worthy but the way his tongue dragged over your most sensitive spot had your eyes rolling. 
He started to thrust his fingers into you shallowly and as he did so, his tongue matched that pace on your clit. Your body rippled with pleasure again and you groaned loudly to the ceiling with your legs held wide for him until your hamstrings were aching. It was easy to hear how wet you were - and how wet he made you - with his fingers thrusting into you like that, nudging against your g-spot dead on with lewd squelches as you soaked his skin and dripped down his hand. His tongue flicked precisely over your clit in that same strong pace, desperate to please you as much as he could. 
You could feel that coil building inside you again and fast, and your chest heaved for breath as you struggled to keep yourself together. It was so much and so fast that you dropped your right hand from your ankle to tangle in his hair again to try and ease him up as you tossed your head back against the bed with a pleasured moan. 
Without that grip on your ankle, your leg naturally tried to close in to shut him out with the intense overwhelm. But George didn’t waste a second and, without faltering, he blindly reached out his left hand, grabbed your ankle, and shoved your leg back himself. Keeping you spread like that was just what he needed as his fingers and his tongue worked at that consistent pace that had you crying out loudly through the hotel room. He could feel you start to pulse around his fingers and he kept going even as his jaw was starting to ache slightly and your wetness was leaking down his hand. 
“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” you sobbed, gripping hard onto his hair as you felt the beginning of that pleasure wash over you fast. “Fuck, George!”
He moaned right up against you, keeping himself going even as you clenched and creamed around his fingers and you tugged at his hair, almost smothering him in your pussy that he took gladly with fingers and tongue. You shuttered through your strong orgasm, crying out his name breathily to the walls as your back arched off the bed and your legs trembled from where they were held wide open in mid-air. 
George pulled away from you with a wet slurp and he, too, was heaving for breath as he stood from the ground at the side of the bed. You lifted your hands up to run through your frazzled hair as your chest rose and fell quickly and you hid your grinning face in your palms. Your legs rested lazily down against the bed with only the slightest quiver to them as you came down from your orgasm. His hands ghosted over your knees and your shins and he stood between your legs almost proudly, staring down at your naked body laid out before him. 
“You sound so fucking beautiful when you’re so vocal like that for me.” George complimented honestly. 
“God, you don’t make it difficult.” you chuckled, finally removing your hands from your face to drop against the mattress above your head. 
“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. 
You bit back your grin in his direction, “Yes, please.” 
“Yeah?” he grinned right back as he finally pulled his collared shirt from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground alongside your heels, leaving him gloriously naked for your hungry eyes to devour. He was already hard again and you shamelessly were staring, naturally spreading your legs for him with that desire to be filled again. George tugged you a little closer to the edge of the bed and then propped his left foot up beside you so he could get nice and close. 
You stayed flat on your back as he dragged the head of his cock between your lips and your wide anticipatory eyes stared up at him lustfully, fingers twisting through the ends of your hair. Then he was pushing into you slowly, moving easier now with how much wetter he made you from your recent orgasms and the familiar size of him that your body had already taken once before. But it still pushed a tight stretch across your hips and you groaned to the ceiling, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your hands grasped the sheets above your head. 
“Oh my God, you feel so fucking incredible.” you breathed. 
“Uh huh?” he set his hands on the backs of your thighs so your legs were pushed towards your chest and left you on perfect display for him to sink into as deep as he could go. Once his balls pressed against your ass, he was dropping his head forward with a breathy, “Motherfucker.”
With your pussy just teetering off the edge of the bed, you were in the perfect position for him to fuck you how he pleased although his first few strokes were slow and testing and he kept sinking into you with shaky sighs like you were a cup of tea after a long day. But he started to speed up as the seconds passed, as if his natural instinct started to take over, and soon he was thrusting into you properly in strong strokes. 
His foot that was propped up on the edge of the mattress allowed for a bit more leverage and he could get so much deeper that way, easily causing the hotel room to fill with that lewd wet smack of his skin colliding with yours again and again. You swore you could feel it in your stomach, letting him fuck the quiet breathy moans from your chest as your fingers tightened on the sheets above your head and you shut your eyes to focus on that pressure he pushed deep inside you with every snap of his hips. You dropped a hand down to press against your abdomen out of habit, desperate to feel more of him, and the way your palm added to that pressure made you whimper loudly as you stared up at him with a sweet pout. 
With each thrust, you could feel his cock nudge against your insides so strongly under your hand that it was hard to keep your eyes from rolling. You were fucking burning for it. Truly because of this, you had no choice but to reach both arms straight down to grip the edge of the mattress on either side of your body, needing something to hold onto. He wasn’t taking his eyes off yours, like he didn’t want to look at anything else for the rest of his life. Even when he wrapped his right hand around your throat and held your head down against the bed with just the right amount of pressure, he was staring dead into your eyes with his bottom lip between his teeth. He was so handsome that just the sight of his face staring at you like that had you fluttering around him.
You definitely weren’t going to be the first one to break your eye contact even as you struggled to keep yourself composed under his deep consistent strokes. Instead, you offered him the sweetest whimpers he had ever heard, the sounds falling from your pouted lips almost involuntarily at the thanks to his natural skills. The whole world fell away. 
Until he was pulling right out of you which felt like a sudden snap back to reality and you let go of the edge of the mattress to reach for him with a soft, “Give it back.”
“Turn over.” George ordered, licking away the cocky smile on his face that came from your gentle plea. “Hands and knees.”
“Oh my God.” you giggled and rolled over onto your stomach, “Yes, sir.” 
You got your knees under you and George’s hands were on your hips to adjust you where he needed you, pausing to give you a soft smack to your bum in the process. 
“You can slap me harder than that.” you encouraged. 
He tried again, getting a good spank across your ass as you were sitting back on your ankles and bent over at the waist, forearms holding you up on the bed. You looked back at him over your shoulder as he nudged the head of his cock against your pussy but you reached a hand back to grab his wrist, halting him. 
“Spank me like you fucking mean it.” you pressed strongly. 
Your demanding tone seemed to take him by surprise as he stared back at you with wide eyes for a fleeting moment before that arousing lust flashed across his face. He pulled his hand back and slapped it down hard against your ass, the sharp sound echoing through the hotel room and quickly followed by a squeal from you. 
“Yes!” you gasped, quickly cut off by another hit from his full palm, “Fuck, that’s more like it.”
“Holy fuck.” George chuckled lowly as he easily slipped his dick back inside you in one smooth motion and his hand held you down by the back of your neck, “You really don’t seem like such a fucking slut until your clothes come off, huh?” 
With your face held down against the mattress, you could only groan in reply and he gave you another hard spank with his free hand, already blushing a pink handprint against your skin, and right away he was picking up where he left off. You weren’t sure how he was so fucking good at turning you into putty in his hands but the way he fucked you kept your brain from doing too much thinking at all anyway. Your fingers bunched the sheets into your fists on either side of your head, the mattress capturing your moans into muffled sounds, and the hotel room welcomed the lewd clap of his skin against yours. 
George gave you another spank right across the ass before grabbing a snug handful of your flesh as he fucked you over the side of the bed, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust and you couldn’t help yourself but spread your knees a little wider so you could feel more of it. You swore you were drooling into the sheets, toes curling, knuckles turning as white as the duvet, and you habitually tried to arch your back deeper for him. 
“Naughty girl.” he praised strongly, giving you another echo-worthy spank across your ass. “You just bend over so fucking easy for me, don’t you?”
“Uh huh.” you answered with your sounds muffled by the bed. 
When he took his hand from the back of your neck to hold your hips in both hands, you tossed your hair over one shoulder to stay resting with your chest against the bed, trying to peek back at him from the way you were bent over at the waist. It felt so good that you just wanted more and more and you ended up reaching back to grab your ass and spread yourself open for him to hit deeper. 
George slowed down a little in surprise of your action which only made you start to fuck yourself back onto his cock yourself with a desperate whine. He lifted one hand to slip his thumb in his mouth, praising you with a rich groan as he met your little motions with gentle short thrusts of his own, staying nice and deep inside you to keep that burning pressure across your hips. But then he was dropping his hand back down and swirling the moistened pad of his thumb around your asshole before slowly slipping it inside. 
The way your body tensed right up had him hushing you sweetly, even as you cried out his name breathily towards the bed and dropped your palms back down to grip the sheets. With his thumb hooked in your ass, he let his other hand come down hard against your cheek as he started to fuck you steadily. You stretched your arms out in front of you until your fingers could wrap around the opposite edge of the mattress and your forehead rested against the sheets between your arms, allowing you to let the pleasurable moans and gasps be fucked from your throat by his precise thrusts. 
You could only focus on the sounds he made in return; those handsome moans and panted breaths that expressed nothing but pleasure as he drove himself into you again and again. It drove you crazy in the best of ways and you silently prayed he never stop fucking you, raising your gaze to the ceiling as if you were really trying to speak to God. When he pulled his thumb out of your ass again and slapped his hand down hard across your blushing cheek, you didn’t hesitate to use His name in vain either. 
George’s hand in your hair started you and he yanked you right up from the mattress so you were on your knees and your back was to his chest. You barely got your surprised gasp out of your mouth before he was wrapping his hand around your throat and suddenly fucking you so hard that your breath completely froze in your chest for a second. Eyes rolling and head dropping back against his shoulder, you gripped his wrist around your throat with one hand while your other flailed through the air dumbly for a moment as you struggled to find something to grab onto. 
“Fuck!” you finally squeaked out, louder than the erotic clap of his skin against yours in time with his rapid thrusts. 
But only seconds later, he was stopping completely and you were gasping for breath and trying to fuck yourself back on him to get him going again. You could feel his smirk against your cheek and his hot breath on your neck as he asked you outright, “Are you gonna ride my cock like a good little slut now?”
“Yeah.” you exhaled dreamily, sliding your hand up the side of his neck and into the ends of his hair to pull his lips on yours over your shoulder. 
You shared a few sloppy kisses before he was gently pushing you forward and he pulled out of you. Shifting on the bed to let him join you, your hand found its way between your legs and you rubbed impatiently at your pussy and the sensitive ache he left behind. Beautifully naked, George sat himself on the bed and shuffled towards the middle so he could comfortably rest back against the plentiful down pillows in a mostly horizontal position. He patted his thigh and held out a hand to guide you over and you happily tossed a leg over his lap to straddle him.
You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to look even better but the way he stared back up at you while you were on top of him was nothing less than thrilling. George’s hands slid up your thighs and over your hips and you reached between you to angle his dick up against your leaking pussy, easily able to sink down on him until your ass met his thighs. You shared breathy sighs in response and your palms rested flat against his chest to anchor yourself. 
“Fuck, darling.” he groaned with a lick to his lips and his hands went roaming up your torso to grab your breasts, “Why didn’t you get on top of me sooner? Look at you.”
You chuckled bashfully and gently started to bounce on him from your knees. With the pleasure that tore through you, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan fell from your parted lips, savouring each inch of him so deep inside you. 
“God, I love your fucking dick.” you spilled out honestly. 
“Yeah?” his hands moved back down to squeeze your hips, holding them a little tighter so you were forced to stop your shallow bounces. “Back and forth for me, sweetheart. Grind on it.” 
You started to rut your hips forwards and backwards on him with your hands still resting on his chest to keep yourself steady, giving you ample room to rub your clit against his pelvis while the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot at the perfect angle. Mouth falling open with pleasure, you gaped down at him behind fluttering eyes. 
“Holy shit.” you exhaled. 
“Uh huh?” he kept your eye contact as his hands on your hips started to speed you up, almost yanking you back and forth on his lap himself, “Just like that?”
“F-Fuck!” you gasped, “Yeah!” 
“Yeah, keep going, baby, show me how good that feels.”
“So fucking good, George-” you whimpered, keeping those strong strokes going yourself even when he moved his hands away from your waist. The bed was squeaking underneath you with how hard you were taking it, riding him with all the power left in you until the headboard was starting to hit the wall in messy time. The noise had you hesitating for a moment, slowing down, nervous about the neighbours for a fleeting moment. 
George just grabbed your hips again and tugged you back into the motions, “Did I say stop?”
“No.” you whined, pressing your nails into his chest as he took you over again. 
“Faster. Ride it as hard as you can.” he ordered. 
His hands grabbed your breasts as you kept going on your own again, ignoring the bed hitting the drywall and instead focused on the tingling pleasure that tore through you. Your head fell backwards and you let out a moan to the ceiling, straining from your knees on either side of his lap as your sloppy pussy squelched with each stroke on his cock that filled you right up. 
“Good girl.” he praised, “Show me who owns this cock.”
“Me.” you breathed, flicking your hips stronger on him. 
“Yeah, show me that this is your fucking dick.” 
Your eyes were struggling to stay open and the intensity that grew quickly within you had your body shuttering for a moment and you stopped yourself with a quiver. 
George’s hand slapped down hard on your ass, repeating a strong, “Did I say stop?”
“No, sir.” you groaned, ignoring the ache in your thighs to keep yourself going again. 
“That’s it.” his eyes flickered between your face and your position on his lap, his hands starting to yank you back and forth again, “Keep going. Don’t fucking slow down.”
Your face was screwed up in concentrated pleasure, whimpering for him, “I’m gonna cum.”
“More.” he ordered through his teeth, “Gimme more.”
“Yes!” you squeaked, leaning farther forward on your hands against his shoulders with your nails digging into his muscle, hips rutting hard on his lap. “Yes, fuck!” 
A few more seconds and your eyes were blurring with tears from the strain on your legs and the pleasurable pressure building in the pit of your insides, chasing that orgasm desperately. The whole world started to fall away again as he took over your senses and you were forced onto a one track mind. 
Then suddenly, George’s hands tightened on your hips and he halted your movements, “Stop.” 
Your body shuttered with the sudden change after getting you so close and you whined loudly in protest. 
“Oh,” George chuckled lowly, “feel you fucking throbbing for me.”
“So close.” you whimpered, trying to start moving again but he held you firmly in place. 
“Where are your manners?” he pressed. 
“Please?” you exhaled, peering down at him longingly with a look of desperation you couldn’t bother to hide, “Please let me cum on your cock.”
George gave you another spank, “Keep going.” 
You sat back a little more to rest one hand on his thigh while keeping your other against his chest still and you gladly took his invitation to get back to those addicting grinds. Your hair tumbled out of your face as you tilted your head back slightly, letting the uncontrollable moans fall from your pouted lips. 
George’s hands on your hips kept yanking you back and forth some more and he spoke up to you strongly, “God, you look so fucking sexy when you ride me.”
“Feels so fucking good, I wanna cum for you so bad.” you cried. 
“Show me.” he ordered, letting go of your waist again to let you take over and do it yourself. 
The lust drove you crazy as if it were some sort of out of body experience and you rode him harder, faster, stronger, despite the ache of your thighs and the sweat across your skin. You were almost dizzy and the feverish whimpers and moans that spilled from your chest were certainly no help. George was staring up at you with his bottom lip captured between his teeth, such a handsome man so willing to just let you use him. 
His large hands then grabbed your wrists, pulling you away from steadying yourself on his body so it truly was only your hips doing all the work. His blue eyes focused on where you were connected, licking his lips as the sight of you rutting yourself on him so hard that the headboard was hitting the wall, not to mention the sound of your wet pussy taking him to just prove how badly you wanted him. His fingers around your wrists tightened as he held your hands out to the side to let your hips do the talking. 
“Just like that, gorgeous, good girl.” he praised loudly, “Fuck, you feel so good.” 
“I’m gonna cum.” you whimpered, hands bunching into fists from where he held them. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum!” 
George stayed quiet minus his few pleasurable sounds of his own, letting you draw yourself closer on his lap second by second. But then, just as you were tensing up, he shoved your hands aside and grabbed your hips hard, “Stop.” 
“Oh!” you shrieked at the sudden halt again, your body trying to bounce on him to make up for it but you ended up just rolling right off his lap, your legs trembling. Your knees curled towards your chest and your ankles linked together with your hand between your legs to try and ease the throbbing ache that pulsed through your cunt. With a shaky voice, you cried out a weak, “Fuck you.”
George just chuckled lowly and turned over after you, reaching above your head to grab the pillows and toss them to the floor to give you both free reign of the entire bed. His strong arms held him up on either side of you and he leaned down to kiss your neck wetly. You rolled over underneath him onto your right side, wrapping a hand around his forearm as your body trembled from being edged by him and you sunk your teeth gently into his flesh to muffle your displeased moans. 
“Such a whiny little cockslut.” George spoke against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, “Just wants to cum so fucking bad.”
You hummed in agreement just as he sat back from you on his knees and he straddled one of your legs with the other still curled up towards your chest. Your pussy was on clear display for him this way, glistening wet in the nighttime light of the city that streaked in from the open balcony curtains, and he dragged the slick head of his cock through it before sinking inside you again. Your mouth fell open with a hearty moan, eyes fluttering shut, and your hand tightened around his forearm. 
“Look at me.” George instructed as he took his hand from the mattress and, instead, pushed his index finger into your mouth. 
You turned your head slightly to open your eyes again and look at him over top of you just as he thrusted hard into you, making you moan around his finger. 
“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” he praised as he started to thrust into you consistently, “Such a good fucking girl for me.”
You were a mess of noises and you sucked and drooled around his finger without thought, gladly accepting his cock inside you powerfully over and over again. One of your hands reached down to tug at the flesh of your ass to try and open yourself up for him at your 90-degree angle of your hips, wanting to feel every inch of him entirely through you. 
“You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he reminded you seriously. 
Pulling off his finger, you cried in protest, “It’s not enough!”
“More?” he asked. 
“Yes.” you pleaded, wrapping your hands around his forearms on either side of you. 
He fucked you harder into the bed, forcing that hot pressure to be felt deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You had never thought it was realistic for ones eyes to roll from pleasure but there you were, gaping to the ceiling with your eyes fucking rolling for him from the euphoria that rose a sheen sweat across your bare skin. 
“Yes, yes, yes, yes-” you chanted heartily. 
“Mhm?” George reached a hand up to the top of the upholstered headboard, giving himself more leverage to thrust into you, while his other grabbed your thigh and pushed your leg closer to your chest to spread you open wider. 
“Oh, fuck!” you squeaked, habitually turning your face away from him and into the sheets instead to muffle your overwhelming moans as your fingers clutched the linens. It was almost as if you were trying to claw yourself away from him, torn between wanting more and being overwhelmed with the intensity of it all. 
George put you right back in your place with a hand around your throat, pinning you back down against the mattress so you were staring up at him and his peaked brows as he ordered, “Look at me.”
“I’m-” you shuttered, “so close-”
“Look at me when you cum.” he demanded, tightening his hand around your throat, “Don’t fucking look away from me.” 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you squeaked, your nose scrunching up with how quickly he was getting you there again. You pleaded with him without tearing your eyes away from his, “Please can I cum?”
“Yeah, cum for me, baby. Squeeze my cock and cum all over me.” 
You tried to keep his eye contact but as your body tensed up and the pleasure had your ears ringing, you had no choice but to scrunch your eyes shut as your head arched from the bed and your broken cry was expressed to the ceiling. George groaned lowly as you squeezed right around him when you came, creaming all over his cock as you shuttered underneath him, and in seconds he was pulling out of you. 
He shoved your leg to the side so you were flat on your back and spread properly for him and his hand took to his cock himself, stroking himself off in quick flicks of his wrist right over top of you. You just stared up at him with mouth parted in near awe at how he sparkled in the city lights through the window under that handsome sheen of sweat across his toned body. And his moans were something else, so erotic and angelic that you could have listened to him until the end of time, and you reached down to help him with your gentle hand. Only a few more pumps and he was coming right up your stomach with a broken groan and an extra little squeeze of your hand around the swollen head, pulling more pretty streaks of white out of him to paint your stomach and your pelvis in his essence. 
“Holy fuck.” you breathed, sliding your hand up his abs and his chest as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You shared a few hot breathless kisses before he was leaving one more to your collarbone and another between your breasts and then he was settling between your legs and guiding them up towards your chest. Your fingers raked through his hair with a gentle warning, “My God, George-”
His mouth was on your clit again in a fleeting moment, making your whole body jolt in sensitivity, but he held you securely on his mouth even as your strained moans reached all four walls of the hotel room. You were gaping dumbly to the ceiling as your arms straightened completely with your fingers tangled in his hair as if wanting to get him away from you, back arching off the bed and toes curling in mid air. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you squealed, only getting louder and pitchier as he sucked on your clit. 
George smothered himself in your pussy with his fingers pressing indentations into your thighs, taking you over with his tongue like you were his last meal. You were so sensitive too that it was hard to keep still and you were gasping and whining to the hot air of the hotel room, tugging at his hair until he was groaning up against you. 
“Christ.” he huffed as he pulled away from you with a filthy slurp, “You taste fucking incredible.”
You barely had a second to catch your breath before his fingers were gliding between your lips and shoving back inside your snug cunt, taking him in gladly. He stared at your body taking him in with all the lust in the world, you swore, and his teeth captured his bottom lip in near concentration as he fingered you possessively in precise purposeful thrusts. It was obvious how aroused you were by the squishy wet sound of his fingers inside you and it made him just have to lean back down to lap at your clit again. 
“Oh my God.” you said through your teeth, dropping your head back against the bed with your eyes screwed shut. 
“Too much?” he asked you as he pulled away from your pussy again, keeping his fingers going. 
“Little.” you confessed shakily. 
“Want me to stop?”
“No.”
The insistence behind your reply made him chuckle lowly and with his two fingers still knuckle deep inside you, he shifted between your legs to rest a bit more at your side. You took that brief moment to breathe and your hands pushed your tangled hair out of your face before resting on the mattress on either side of your head. Nude and spread for him, you let him do as he pleased to you in the nakedness of his own, loving how he took you over like he had known you for your whole life…like you were his to play with. And the way he so obviously loved to bring you pleasure was insanely attractive. 
Once situated slightly to your right and facing your body, George’s fingers were starting to curl up against that soft squishy spot inside you while his left hand raised to his mouth to suck on two more fingers. You gently grasped the fitted sheet under your head, lip captured by your teeth, staring up at him with blown wide eyes that held the expression that made him want to ruin you. He pulled his fingers from his mouth and set them down gently against your swollen clit, hushing you sweetly as your body jumped under his tender touch. 
“That’s my good girl.” he whispered, finding a matching pace with his two hands - one inside you and one out. 
You succumbed to him so easily, the soft moans tumbling from your bitten lip as you stared at him, still covered in his cum like he owned you. And honestly, it felt like he truly did. Every single touch he offered you felt like pure electricity, complete erotic bliss filling your senses all over again. 
“Feels so fucking good.” you exhaled, eyes focused on his face. 
“Uh huh?” George tore his eyes away from your pussy to meet your gaze, allowing his fingers to move a little faster; one rubbing at your clit and the other reaching that perfect spot inside you. “Think you wanna cum for me again?” 
“Yeah.” you exhaled. “You make me cum so fucking hard.”
“Mhm.” he licked away his smirk and looked back down to his task at hand, “And you take it so well, gorgeous.” 
He kept those consistent shallow curls of his two fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot right on until your breaths were falling shallower again. Your head arched back against the mattress with a small groan, your legs struggling to keep themselves open, and you grasped tighter onto the fitted sheet. George hummed in appreciation for how easily you took it and he shifted again at your side to rise up a little onto his knees for a new angle, removing his hand from your clit to hold your leg closest to him to the side. Then, with his occupied arm perfectly straight, he could really work those precise curls of his fingers against your g-spot in harder upwards jabs. 
“O-Oh-” you gasped shakily, dropping a hand down out of natural habit to try and lessen the intense feeling but you stopped yourself at your stomach, your hand haphazardly swiping through the mess of cum that was still streaked across your sweaty skin. Your middle finger inched to your clit where you rubbed yourself a little as if he needed any help. 
George’s jaw was clenched with how seriously he was taking it, fingering you strongly until his bicep was bulging and your thighs were trembling with the quick onset of pleasure. The heat was rising across your body again with the blood rushing to your ears until you swore you could hear ringing but the pressure that was building in the depths of your stomach took the cake. It felt tingly and dangerous and you tried to slide your hand down to cover yourself. 
“I have to pee-” you whimpered, as if in a futile attempt to stop him, barely heard over the ridiculously wet sound of your pussy. 
“Feels like it, huh?” he taunted strongly with his fingers still engraving him into that precious spot inside you with the power of his entire arm, “Give into that for me, darling.”
“I don’t-” your body shuttered, “I’m-”
“Cum for me, gorgeous. Don’t hold anything back.”
Your moans only grew pitchier and pitchier until you were literally squealing to the ceiling and your hands were flying out to grab onto his thigh and the duvet. The pleasure was insane until the whole world fell away and your vision went spotted for a second followed by a rush of relief. You cried out for him loudly as the first trickle slipped out of you and he was pulling his fingers out to let you squirt all over the bed and him. 
“Good girl.” he praised loudly through his teeth before shoving his fingers back inside you to keep you going through your orgasm. “That’s my good girl! Make a fucking mess for me, baby.” 
Your thighs curled up towards your body until you were nearly squeezing him out with broken pleasured sobs falling from your chest, grabbing his wrist between your legs to try and get him out of you as the pleasure tapered off. Writhing against the dampened sheets, you were soaked in sweat, cum, and your own liquids, and even the ghost of his breath on your skin had your whole body flinching with sensitivity. 
“That’s enough.” you panted, leaving your hand around his wrist even as he pulled it out of you. “Holy shit, I almost blacked out.”
“You okay?” George chuckled and shifted down beside you, laying half on top of you as he brushed your hair out of your face and let his eyes scan your features. 
“Yeah.” you lifted your head up to look down your body at your quivering legs and the mess of wetness you left behind across the perfect white sheets. “Fuck, I’ve never squirted before.”
George smiled proudly against your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth, “My pleasure.” 
You slid your fingers into the back of his hair and guided his lips to yours, sharing a few sloppy breathless kisses before his head was resting against your shoulder with a content sigh. His arm laid heavy around your middle and even laying together in the nude, the air conditioning of the hotel room didn’t do much to cool your sweaty bodies. 
“I think I need some water.” you whispered. 
George was moving away from you and got off the bed right away, “I got it.”
He disappeared just around the corner to the small built in bar where he grabbed two glasses and then filled them in the bathroom sink. When he returned, your eyes couldn’t help but soak him up in his glorious nakedness in the moonlight and by the warmth of the bedside sconces. Never have you known a man so handsome and perfect that it made your heart skip a beat even when he wasn’t necessarily doing anything to justify your lust. But maybe it was those rose-coloured glasses talking since he had just given you the most erotic and pleasurable night of your entire life. 
The water glass felt heavy in your hands but you took it from him with thanks and you sat yourself up slightly before sipping the water with relief, not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. George settled himself onto the bed beside you and leaned back against the upholstered headboard with a sigh and a drink from his own glass. It was almost surprising how quickly you downed your drink and soon you were setting the empty glass on the bedside table before turning to face him. 
With those pleasure hormones still swirling through your brain and your bloodstream, you just wanted to get closer and you slid your hand up his bare chest and around the side of his neck as your lips met his smooth jaw for a lingering kiss. George smiled and rubbed your thigh before gently guiding your leg over his just to keep your body as close as possible to his. Your sweaty skin stuck together faintly as if to remind you how you felt as one that night.
He turned his head to you slightly, nudging your cheek with his nose to silently urge your face towards his so your lips could meet in a slow sensual kiss. You lingered there for a moment together, motionless, lips locked, breathless and sweaty, until he was pulling away gently. He licked his lips habitually and seemed to inhale you contentedly with his eyes half closed in pure peaceful bliss. The moment of silence lingered between you as if the reality of your situation was starting to settle and yet your minds swirled with thoughts surrounding nothing but each other. 
Your hand on the side of his neck guided his lips back to yours and he leaned into you gladly, sharing in your dreamy kisses that had your insides curling with lust after he had given you the absolute most. It was crazy and unheard of to be so greedy, but he was a drug to you and you only craved him more. You exchanged slow open mouthed kisses that could pass as nothing but chasté if it weren’t for the setting and the circumstance you found yourselves in. The taste of his lips was addicting and the fact that the reminisce of your own arousal still clung to him and teased your senses as you dragged your tongue along his bottom lip was dizzying. 
George pulled away from you long enough to reach past you and set his empty water glass on the bedside table beside your own before he was licking away his smile and guiding you in by the chin to kiss you some more. Without the barrier of water glasses or clothes, you embraced each other urgently in warm arms and sweet kisses, sharing breaths as one amidst your dance of lips and tongues. And, with a sudden influx of bravery that coursed through you, you shifted at his side and tossed your leg over his thighs to straddle his lap. 
His hands guided you gladly, letting you sit rightfully on his lap as his tongue helped itself into your mouth and against your own while your fingers were tangled in his hair to pull him impossibly closer. Your body arched into his as if needing to feel every inch of his skin against yours and his hands on your waist wrapped tighter around you until your chest was flush against his. It was as if the previous escapades were forgotten about as the fire that burned between you was stronger than ever and you could start to feel his dick hardening underneath you and you ground down on him faintly to feel more of it. 
George’s soft groan tasted heavenly and you sucked on his tongue for a moment before pulling out of his kiss and dragging your hands down his shoulders and his chest. His fingers caressed your hips and along your spine and you stared at each other for a moment as you let the feeling of your body heat lure your hearts closer. But then he was leaning in again and capturing your lips in another feverish kiss that had you giggling into his mouth, your hands holding his face in your palms. 
Between his insistent kisses, you pleaded with him sweetly, “Please can you fuck me again?”
“Again?” he chuckled lowly as he broke your kiss, brushing his nose across your cheek as you held onto each other. “Blimey, has no one ever fucked you properly before? Never had a man as generous as me?”
“No.” you replied easily, ready and willing to butter him up to get that reward you craved. 
“Mhm?” he shifted underneath you without breaking your eye contact, turning you both over so you could be laid down on the bed again while he taunted you lustfully, “Or are you just that much of a slut that you just can’t get enough dick?”
“I’m your slut.” you answered with a giddy grin that you tried to bite back, pulling him down by your hand at the back of his neck to get his lips on yours again. 
His body rested heavily on top of you and your ankles tucked behind his calves to hold him close, slinging your arm around his back with your nails pressing greedily into the toned muscle of his shoulders. He spoke into your mouth with his lips brushing yours, his voice low and rich, “You’re fucking crazy and I can’t get enough of you.” 
“Fuck me.” you begged strongly. 
George pushed himself away from you long enough to grab your thighs and shove them up towards your chest so when he leaned back down over top of you, your ankles were resting against his shoulders. He licked his fingers and then dropped that hand down between your legs to smear across your soaked pussy before the head of his cock was taking its place. His eyes met yours, “You sure you can take more?”
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
He took your words as truth and then slowly pushed his stiffening cock inside you, catching himself with flat hands against the mattress on either side of your head and his eyes locked on yours. You held onto the side of his neck with your legs stretched messily up to his shoulders until your thighs burned just as much as your insides but you’d never dream of stopping him. 
You were so achingly sensitive and growing sore from your long night but you had missed the feeling of being filled by him until you were stretched out around the girth of his cock, mouthing to no one in particular, “Oh my God.” 
George’s lips were on yours again in an instant and you moaned happily into his sloppy kiss as he started to grind deeper into you. You clung onto him warmly and when you couldn’t get him close enough, he let your legs move from his shoulders to around his waist. That also gave him a bit more freedom of movement and he ducked his face in your neck as he started to thrust into you properly. 
Gasping into the hot air of the Parisian hotel room, you let your nails press into his back as he fucked you for the nth time that evening and it still felt just as gloriously good as the first time. He was still growing harder inside you until every thrust was delivered with strong curling precision that had your eyes rolling. 
“Holy fuck,” you whimpered, “How are you still so fucking hard?” 
George’s low chuckle fell against your neck and he shifted a little bit closer to you to thrust harder into your sopping cunt, “You don’t make it difficult.” 
You meant to smile but the growing intensity of his dick pistoning inside you had your face fluttering with waves of intense pleasure that teetered on the border of pain with thanks to how sensitive you were by then. You were trying to keep your breath steady but he had a way of fucking the air from your lungs until you were holding your breath to try and feel every ounce of pleasure from him as well as holding yourself back from the pressure of his cock nudging against your cervix. 
“Harder.” you pleaded to him. “Fuck me harder.”
“Naughty girl.” he pushed away from you slightly to get his hand around your throat again.
He pinned you down against the mattress that way with the perfect squeeze and your hands clutched onto his biceps as you peered up at him above you. He was getting rough with it again and those pretty moans found their way past your lips once more, blessing the hotel room alongside the rhythmic sound of the headboard starting to hit the wall. Your eyes were rolling for him, jaw clenched, your body tense with steadily rising pleasure. 
“Don’t pass out on me.” he warned seriously with only a hint of teasing to his tone. 
“Mm mm.” you shook your head faintly with your eyes scrunching shut. Your hands slid up his biceps to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer the best you could. 
“Want me like this?” he asked as he lowered himself on top of you again, staying perfectly close with your legs around his waist so his every thrust hit as deep as possible. 
“Mhm, fuck.” you whimpered, tangling one hand in the back of his hair and dragging the other across his back. 
“You feel so damn good.” he exhaled against your cheek, breathless from the effort he was putting into you. “So fucking perfect I never wanna pull out.”
“Don’t.” you held onto him tighter. “Don’t fucking stop.” 
The way he fucked you into the cloud-like king size bed had you swearing it was all a dream, far too good to be true. He fit inside you so perfectly that you swore your bodies were made for each other, entangled as one, just like it was meant to be. You hardly knew him but you were so attached - a connection stemmed from shared pleasure and the most intimate moments of human nature. 
George wasn’t going to last much longer after the extensive night you had already shared and proof of that was only shown in the way his hips shoved sloppier against yours like he was chasing something hungrily, his arms around your head and his face in your neck. He was all over you. The erotic creak of the mattress underneath you made shivers tear up your arms as if in reminder of how well he treated you body, how he made you moan and writhe and sweat like you never knew possible. So many firsts given to this handsome stranger.
You couldn’t help yourself but want more. 
The words left your mouth in a soft tremble as he fucked you into the duvet, “You know something else I’ve never had?”
“What’s that, my love?” he replied breathily against your jaw without missing a beat. 
“I’ve never had someone cum inside me.”
George groaned and slumped his forehead onto your shoulder, “Fuck, darling-” 
“Please cum inside me.” the urgency made your heart race and you linked your ankles together behind his back as if physically trying to convince him.
“I-”
“Please? I wanna feel you cum so fucking deep inside me. Wanna feel your perfect fucking cock throbbing inside me while you fill me up.”
Despite your startling pleas, he didn’t stop fucking you as if driven by a desire outside of himself, even if his words tried to argue gently in reply, “That’s so fucking dangerous, baby.”
“Show me I’m yours.” you ignored him, dragging your nails across his back, “Please cum with me.” 
“Shit, are you sure?” 
“Yes. Please, sir.” 
“Oh my God.” he groaned through his teeth, wrapping himself in you as you shared the journey to that blissful conclusion. 
It wasn’t difficult for you to get there either as your previous escapades had left you terribly sensitive and the warm pressure that he pushed into the depths of your body with every sharp thrust was building that sensation inside you. You held onto him tightly, bodies moving as one, breaths shared, the hotel bed housing your desperate sloppy one night stand that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced. 
“Fuck, please don’t stop.” you squeaked out, fingers pressing into his back and raking your nails across his skin, “You’re gonna make me cum again!” 
“That’s my good girl. Fucking cum with me.” 
“Don’t pull out.”
“Won’t.” 
“Please.”
“Fuck-”
It was the first wave of your orgasm that sent him over the edge himself, that first grip of your pussy around his aching dick that shot pleasure up his spine until he was shuttering in your arms and moaning into your neck. You clung onto him tightly, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as if trying to keep yourself quiet as you squealed and cried out through your uncountable orgasm of the night. But the feeling of him coming inside you was even better than the dopamine hit and your heels pressed into his bum to tug him as deep as possible, whimpering against his cheek as he filled you with thick warm spurts. 
“Fuck.” you squeaked, barely heard over his own euphoric groans as his sharp thrusts died down into curling grinds to really make the most of it, giving you every last drop. You whimpered his name against his ear and his lips found yours blindly in an off-centered kiss that was more tongue than grace. You held his face in your trembling hands and he let his entire body weight rest on top of you for a moment as you shared a few more breathless kisses. 
“Well,” he exhaled out of your kiss, “What happens in Paris…” 
You let out a soft giggle and he carefully shifted away from you so he was sitting back on his knees before slowly pulling out. Your hand reached down to take his place, sliding your fingers along your slick pussy and just inside, feeling how wet you were thanks to the both of you. And as your muscles clenched and released from the ending of your orgasm, his cum was starting to be pushed out of you and you gladly let it drip onto your fingers. 
“Holy fuck, it feels so good.” you breathed, lifting your head up to look down your body to where your hand was positioned between your legs. 
George just smirked proudly down at you, gently caressing your quivering thighs with his fingertips as he watched you lazily play with yourself. He spoke to you softly, “Can I get you water and a towel?” 
His manners had you smiling up at him and you nodded, “Yes, please.” 
“Okay,” he patted your thigh, “be right back.”
He took your empty glasses from the bedside table and disappeared around the corner into the bathroom again, leaving you for a moment alone on the king size bed. Your fingers fell to a stop between your legs just coated in his cum while your head lolled to the side slightly to peer out the balcony windows to see the glittering Eiffel Tower in the near distance. It was such a dream. 
George returned to you shortly and joined you back in bed with your water and a towel. You took the towel first and shuffled it underneath you before using the edge to mop up the worst of what spilled back out of you; even if it was all too late for the duvet to be spared. The two of you then shared in the silence and the appreciated hydration, side by side. You were utterly exhausted and your head rested against his shoulder even as you slowly sipped your water and his hand rubbed innocent circles on your bare thigh. 
“Was this all okay for you?” he asked after a few moments. 
“Yeah,” you said, “It was so perfect.”
“Perfect?” he chuckled. 
“Mhm.” you wrapped your hand around his bicep to hold him close, “I swear to God, I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life.”
He kissed your head, “Me too.”
“I should clean myself up a little.” you shifted away from him and sat up a little straighter, glancing down at yourself and the mess of the night that was left behind between hand prints, hickeys, and drying ribbons of cum across various body parts. George let you go. 
While you took to the bathroom on wobbly legs to do your business and wipe yourself down with a cool damp cloth, George tidied up the hotel room and brought in your clothes and your drinks from the balcony. By the time everything was arranged and you were cleaned up, you emerged from the bathroom in your shy nakedness as he was putting the half empty bottle of champagne in its bucket of melted ice on the mini bar. He had the modesty of underwear by then after having snagged it from where his briefs had been discarded on the balcony earlier in your evening plans but he was unbothered by the vast expanse of your body and his hand inched around your waist to lead you closer. 
“You okay?” he asked, his thumb caressing the small of your back. 
“Yeah. I’m just really tired. I should call a cab.” you whispered. 
“Stay.” he offered, “I don’t want you navigating the city this late and this exhausted.”
“You sure?” 
“Yeah. Of course, I’m sure. I’d love it if you stayed.”
A small smile dusted over the corner of your lips, “Okay. Thank you.”
You both leaned in at the same time for a fleeting kiss before you were slipping past him and farther into the hotel room. He directed you to your clothes that were draped on the lounge chair in the corner and you followed his lead to just pull your underwear on and nothing else. The concept of spending the night with him was almost just as thrilling as the concept of hooking up with him as the promise of feeling his skin against yours made your heart race. 
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked as you climbed under the heavy and well used duvet. 
“Noon.” you sighed, “And I still have to stop by my hotel to grab my things.”
“That’s not bad.” 
He joined you in the bed like he had been doing it every day of his life and you naturally shifted closer to each other under the sheets. Even though he was a stranger, you felt so safe with him and with his arms around you, sleep seemed to take you over all too easily, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat without another word spoken.
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You had fallen asleep with the curtains open so as morning rose, the bright light woke you naturally. Blinking away the faint headache from your alcohol infused night, you tried to place your surroundings and orient your dizzy brain properly. George’s arm tossed around your waist  brought you back to reality with ease and you smiled faintly at the memories that flooded your conscience. He was sprawled on his stomach and snoring faintly, his body tucked right up beside yours, and for a second, you just stared at him. His bare back was exposed under the slipping white sheets and you gently traced the red scratches you had left him as a souvenir across his caramel skin. 
The stiffness in your limbs was obvious and you soon had to shift and stretch, ultimately jostling him enough to rouse him slightly. He sighed heavily and reached a hand up to rub his eyes and his face as he rolled onto his back. 
“Sorry.” you whispered. 
“S’okay.” he mumbled, his voice deep and rich with lingering sleep. 
It made your heart flutter.
Laying on his back now, he draped an arm above his head and tousled his fingers through his messy hair, blinking his eyes open to look at you through the unpleasant morning light that had just started to peek over the horizon. He held his arm out again despite you shifting and invited you in, “C’mere.” 
You licked away your smile and shuffled closer to him so you could melt into his side with his arm around your shoulder. Laying together in that heavenly bed, you shared in the view of the Eiffel Tower blessed by the morning sun as it rose into the sky of pinks and oranges with teasing hints of brilliant blue. With his arm that wasn’t around your shoulders, George's hand found yours over the sheets that kept you decent, tracing your fingers with his and then intertwining them tenderly. For the uncountable time since meeting him, you silently swore that this was heaven. 
“You hungry?” he asked after a few long minutes of serenity. 
“Yeah,” you exhaled, not having thought about it until that moment, “starving, actually.”
George took his arm from around your shoulders and he leaned across the bed to his night stand where the hotel phone was. In a tangle of sheets, he lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk to order you both a huge breakfast spread from room service. As he did so, you greedily reached out to brush a hand through his messy brunette hair and down his muscular back, watching how you drew goosebumps in your wake. 
While your food was prepared, the two of you watched the Parisian sunrise in bed together, sharing kisses and caresses and perfect silence like this was your shared romantic vacation. For a fleeting moment, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was. 
George’s finger trailed down your neck to the hickey that stained your skin and he tapped it gently, “Airport security is gonna give you some weird looks.”
You hide your bashful smile into his shoulder, “We made some bad decisions last night.”
“I think we made great decisions.” he countered.
“Mm, yeah.” you agreed easily, “They were pretty great, huh?”
“You sore?”
“Quite. But in a good way.”
His hand captured your jaw and gently guided your lips to his for a few lingering kisses. 
When you pulled away and rested your palm against his bare chest, you confessed quietly, “I still can’t get over how you knew just how I liked it without me needing to tell you.”
“All in your body language, baby.” he replied modestly as your eyes met, “You’re so easy to read.”
“You’re such a gentleman.”
You both leaned in at the same time for more kisses, smiling into each other’s mouths. 
Room service came shortly after and George got out of bed to let the bellboy in with the rolling table filled with French breakfast, even if he was only in his underwear. He made sure to tip the young man and your eyes lingered on the €50 bill he passed over like it was nothing alongside his thanks. You sat in the middle of the cloud-like bed in a pool of sheets and George shifted all the plates onto the duvet so you could share your feast together in bed. 
Crepes and waffles and fresh fruit and sausages and mimosas felt never-ending but you swore it was the most delicious meal you had since arriving in Paris - but maybe it was your company and your well expected hunger that just made it feel so much more rewarding. The view of the Eiffel Tower certainly wasn’t anything to complain about either. 
With plates emptied and appetites fulfilled, you lounged back together against the headboard, cuddled up close. Your eyes were closed peacefully with your heads leaning together and George’s gentle touches to your arm with the back of his finger felt homely. You knew you had a plane to catch but it was the last thing you wanted to do. 
“Kinda don’t wanna get outta bed.” you confessed quietly. 
“Mm,” George agreed, “me neither.”
“Could stay here forever.”
“Me too.”
A pause. 
“Thank you for last night.” you said. 
“Thank you for last night.”
“Lots of firsts.”
George chuckled faintly, “Oh, yes.”
You shared peaceful breathy laughter and he turned his head to kiss your temple and then your cheek and then you let him kiss your lips. 
“You have a plane to catch.” he reminded you. 
A sad smile came to your lips and you replied with a barely audible, “I know.”
With another kiss and no complaint, you tore yourself out of his arms and out of his bed and walked across the carpeted floor to your clothes. He watched you dress from the bed with fondness in his features and you ignored the pit in your stomach that grew with your fast approaching parting. When you were dressed and ready to go, you turned to him. 
“Now what?” you asked. 
George slid out of bed to join you with that handsome smile of his, “Now what, what?”
“I’ve never…done this before so I don’t know the proper protocol for leaving.” you rambled. 
“You just kiss me goodbye.” he shrugged, guiding you closer by your hands. 
Part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to say goodbye but your mouth abandoned you. So you kissed him once more, lingering on those heavenly plush lips of his, before time was pulling you apart. 
“You’re gonna make some guy into the absolute luckiest bastard on this planet some day.” George said like it was what you needed to hear. 
You gave his hands a squeeze, and let your gaze linger on his face as if trying to memorize the man you had no pictures of. 
“Good bye, George.” you breathed. 
He let your hands slip out of his, “Till we meet again, my love.”
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koiiiji · 4 months ago
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some mistakes couldn’t be undone
tw ; abuse, canonical violence, Gitae is a threat himself, angst, yandere(?)
author's note ; i still haven't decided if i want to write him having really small soft spot, or well... a more canonical bastard…✊🏻😔
author’s note 2 ; minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!
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the flickering light above the old hotel door cast long shadows on the cracked walls, giving the room an air of abandonment and isolation. you thought you'd find safety here, far away from the life you'd tried so desperately to escape. Gitae had never been a man to let things go, but you'd dared to hope that the distance, the unfamiliarity of mexico’s wilderness, would keep him away for long enough. long enough for you to figure out what to do next.
but he had found you.
the door slammed open with a force that reverberated through the thin walls. you barely had time to register his presence before you felt the back of your head collide with the hard plaster, pain sparking through your body as you gasped, stunned. Gitae’s face was twisted with anger, his eyes wild and dangerous.
“have you decided to run away? do you think someone there will protect you?” his voice was a snarl, dripping with venom as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back toward him. your scalp burned from the sharp pull, but the pain was nothing compared to the terror freezing your veins.
who was he now? the man standing in front of you wasn't the one you once met. well, Gitae never was who you wanted him to be, but you hold a hope that he would change, the man you had foolishly believed could leave his cruelty behind. this man was the beast you'd been running from for what felt like a lifetime.
“who is he? well, who is he, who gave you the right to think you can leave me?” Gitae's voice was a roar in your ears, but you could barely hear it over the pounding of your heart. tears streamed down your face uncontrollably, the fear and frustration, the endless cycle of suffering, spilling out of you in heavy sobs.
“who is that guy huh? answer me, bitch!” his grip shifted from your hair to your shoulders, shaking you violently. his fingers dug into your skin with brutal force, but you fought against the pain. you fought him, digging your nails into his hands and pushing him away with what little strength you had left.
“this is not a guy!” your voice cracked as you shouted, your words breaking through the sobs. “not a guy…” you repeated, softer now, your voice barely a whisper. your trembling hands instinctively moved to your stomach, as if trying to shield the life that was just beginning there. but you immediately pulled your hand away.
but it was too late.
Gitae’s gaze darkened as it followed your movement, and you could almost see the moment of realization flicker across his face. he noticed. he noticed. thought raced through your mind, panic rising like a wave ready to crash over you. you staggered back, your body pressing against the wall behind you, heart hammering as Gitae took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.
“say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and menacing, but no longer a shout. he tilted his head, a cruel curiosity dancing in his eyes. the shift in his demeanor only terrified you more. you could see the gears turning in his mind, calculating, deciding your fate in a way that would forever bind you to him.
you opened your mouth, but no words came out. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. walls felt like they were closing in on you as his massive hand cupped your face, thumb slowly brushing over your tear-streaked cheek. his other hand dropped down, gently, almost tenderly, resting on your stomach.
“how far?” his voice was dangerously calm now, a whisper in your ear. the gentleness in his touch was jarring, terrifying. you could feel his breath on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
“i-i… i don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “i just did a pregnancy test… a-and it showed... two lines…” you hiccuped, your whole body shaking as Gitae’s hand pressed you harder against the wall, but his touch on your stomach remained soft, disturbingly so. his palm rested there as though he was claiming something far greater than just you.
two lines. you could barely process the words as they slipped from your lips, the reality of your situation crashing down on you.
the future you’d envisioned — escaping from him, finding freedom — was shattered. those two lines changed everything, tied you to him in a way you could never have anticipated. you could feel the monster before you shifting, adjusting to this new reality, this new form of control.
the silence that followed your confession was suffocating. Gitae’s fingers lightly traced your belly as though imagining the life growing inside. he wasn’t shouting anymore. his rage had dissolved into something worse, something calculating, a dark smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
“you’re carrying my child,” he murmured, his voice now a chilling purr. “that’s good. very good.”
the look in his eyes was no longer just anger - it was possession.
“now you have no reason to run. ever.”
his hand, still resting on your stomach, tightened slightly, enough to send a clear message. you were his now — completely and utterly. any hope of escape, of breaking free from this nightmare, slipped further away with every passing second.
and yet, somewhere deep inside you, a spark of defiance remained. you couldn’t let this be the end. not for you, and certainly not for the child inside of you.
as Gitae’s hand lingered, still caressing your stomach with a twisted sort of affection, you knew you had no choice but to fight. maybe not today, not now — but soon.
you need find a way. you had to.
because some mistakes couldn’t be undone — but they could be escaped.
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uselesssomebody · 2 months ago
Text
𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader
complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!
words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜
summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way
a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!
➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out
➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine
➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha
➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!
warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst
➵ fingering
➵ age gap (not a plot point)
(tell me if i miss anything)
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having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.
and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!
another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.
so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.
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she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.
older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.
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logan took it very fucking seriously.
every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.
this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.
it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.
fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.
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some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.
"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.
"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.
"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.
"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.
he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.
cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.
logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.
he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.
the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.
his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!
she squeaks, immediately sitting up.
"logan?"
"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."
she bites her lip.
"you took me home?"
"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.
"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.
"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.
he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.
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knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.
as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.
just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.
that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.
"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.
"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.
"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.
"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.
conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.
theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.
finally, she sighs.
"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.
"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.
"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.
of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.
"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.
it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.
"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.
"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.
"i'm an idiot."
"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.
"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.
"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.
"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.
"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.
"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.
"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.
"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.
"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.
"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.
"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."
she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.
"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.
"why?"
"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.
"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.
"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.
"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.
"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.
"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.
"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.
"maybe i want you to."
"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.
"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.
"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.
"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.
"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.
"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.
"only fun if it hurts."
"i'm serious, princess." she relents.
"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.
"this okay?"
"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.
"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.
"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.
"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.
"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.
`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.
"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.
"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.
"thought that doesn't happen to you?"
"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.
"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.
"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.
"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."
"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.
"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.
she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.
"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.
"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.
"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.
"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.
"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.
"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.
there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.
"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."
safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.
312 notes · View notes
pinescent-and-gingerbread · 5 months ago
Text
✧Night Moths
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✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)
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Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.
You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.
You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.
And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.
You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 
Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.
You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.
The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.
You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 
In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 
Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.
You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.
You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?
From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.
You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.
"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"
A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.
You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.
His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.
What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.
He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.
He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.
"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.
"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.
"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.
"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.
"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 
You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.
"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.
"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 
You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 
Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.
When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.
"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.
Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.
"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.
"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.
"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."
"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"
"Go ahead."
"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."
Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.
"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.
"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 
Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.
In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.
"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."
"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.
Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.
"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.
"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.
He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.
"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 
You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…
He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.
A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.
You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 
"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.
It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.
Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.
"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.
 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.
"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."
You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.
"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.
"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."
This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.
Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.
"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 
You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.
"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"
He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.
Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.
"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.
You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.
He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.
But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.
Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.
Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.
Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.
He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 
Pure, raw lust.
"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.
You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-
"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.
A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.
"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.
It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.
Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.
"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.
"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.
Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.
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Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 
This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.
He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 
On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.
Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 
He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.
The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.
He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.
On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.
The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 
He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 
Nothing new. 
Nothing puzzling, like you had been.
As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.
Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.
The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.
You.
He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 
You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.
"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.
You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.
"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."
Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.
"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.
"Hell no."
"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."
"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."
Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.
This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.
He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 
How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.
He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.
He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.
He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.
"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.
You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.
Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?
He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.
Shit!
He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 
Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 
It was your black shawl.
Tilting his head up, he found you.
You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.
Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 
Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 
He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 
He would catch you, dead or alive.
In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.
"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"
You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.
Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.
Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.
By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.
You stayed in the air for a few seconds.
You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.
You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-
A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 
Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 
You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.
"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.
You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.
Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.
A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.
He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.
You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.
The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.
The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 
He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.
Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.
He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 
The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.
The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 
“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.
You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.
“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.
“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.
A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.
“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.
He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.
You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.
You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.
"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 
The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.
The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.
His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.
You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.
Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.
Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.
For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.
By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.
"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.
He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.
“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 
The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.
You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 
Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.
Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.
You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…
“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.
“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.
It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 
“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”
He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.
Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.
He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 
You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.
Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.
He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.
"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 
You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.
"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 
He positioned himself in front of your entrance.
You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.
He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 
He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.
He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 
"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"
Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 
Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.
Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 
He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.
It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.
"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.
"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 
His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.
True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 
If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.
The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.
You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.
You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.
“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”
Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.
His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.
"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.
"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.
For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.
And that’s how you felt. Boneless.
Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.
He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.
He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.
He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 
It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 
A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 
He didn't want you to forget.
He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.
Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.
"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.
You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 
Like a condemnation.
"You won't." 
Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.
"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.
The fucking papers.
A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.
Shit!
He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.
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tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.
I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱
407 notes · View notes
intrepidacious · 7 months ago
Text
bring your hunger
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summary: There is a Witcher in your house.
pairing: geralt of rivia x succubus!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: smut (18+ only!!), light dubcon due to demon magic, penetrative sex (p in v), some biting and choking 😌 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
a/n: somehow it's been over a year since i posted a full fic but one ao3 writer's curse later here we are. whole new fandom. i've also never written smut until this show rewired my brain so bon appétit (please be kind). my biggest love to @aphrogeneias and @brandycranby who both let me complain about this story for about three months, i adore you!!
masterlist | read on ao3
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There is a Witcher in your house.
You smell him long before you lay your eyes on him, the stench of his magic permeating the forest, harsh and acrid. Somewhere in the woods nearby, something is burning.
For a moment, you hesitate, considering your options. A lesser creature would’ve turned on the spot and run, would’ve stolen a horse in the nearby town and gotten as far away as possible, and maybe you should be doing the same. Forsake your home and this region and try to forget them to save your neck.
But your instincts are never wrong, and right now they are drawing you closer, one cautious step in front of the other, until your door creaks open.
He’s sitting in your chair, turned to the side to have a clear view of the entrance. He is propped up against the dining table, his matted white hair sticking to his forehead. The air is heavy with the smell of blood and sweat. Whatever happened across him managed to get him good; he seems to have bandaged himself up, somehow, but the gashes in his chest look painful.
He stares at you, frown deepening on his face, but he stays very still. There is a dangerous look in his amber eyes, full of fire and fury, and for some reason, that doesn’t scare you. Not at all.
Gods, you’re hungry.
There’s a steady pulse of power coming from him, muted but incessant, like his body’s not ready to drop the fight quite yet. He doesn’t, however, reach for the weapons he’s carelessly dropped on your good carpet.
So instead of fleeing, you draw the door shut behind you and you tilt your head.
It’s stronger now, the smell of your own powers. You don’t think it holds as much sway over Witchers as it would do over mere mortals, but it’s still enough for him to white-knuckle the edge of the table.
"I know what you are," he grits.
The low timbre of his voice makes you grin.
"That makes us even, then." You get closer to him, gingerly stepping over his swords. "Are you going to do something about it?"
His nostrils flare a little, but apart from that his face stays unreadable. Only his eyes betray him, still trained on your lips. He can’t help himself.
"I don’t kill your kind," he says.
"How generous of you." You come to a halt between his legs, reaching out to tilt his chin towards you.
He lets you, and there’s the slightest hint of amusement hidden at the corner of his mouth. From up close, the fire in his eyes burns even brighter.
"Let me show my appreciation," you say lowly.
His scent changes ever so slightly with the first small spike of his arousal. It sends a thrill of anticipation through you.
Your fingers trail down his throat, along his broad shoulders, down the taut muscles of his back, leaning into him even more. His hands fall to your hips, almost involuntarily. Slowly, unhurriedly, you let your nose brush against his and he inhales with a shudder.
This is always your favourite part. The final moments before they give into their desire, your meal prepared and served up on a silver platter, ready to indulge in.
"Don’t," he says, barely a warning.
"Don’t what?" You can feel his breath against your smile.
"Don’t tease."
"No?" He’s got remarkable restraint, this Witcher; but you can hear his racing heart. "Alright then."
And between one moment and the next, you let your clothes disappear.
It’s a simple trick, one that everyone of your kind can do as easily as blinking, but it’s never failed you. His eyes turn even darker as he realizes what you’ve done, as you move back a little to let him take you in. You lick your lips as another waft of his arousal reaches your nose.
Delicious.
"Is that better?" you whisper, tipping your head to the side.
He doesn’t reply. He pulls you towards him sharply, and then his mouth crashes against yours, hard and sudden. One of his hands grabs your ass, hauling you into his lap while the other one cradles the nape of your neck.
It’s a brutal kiss, divinely ferocious. Your naked core brushes over the noticeable bulge in his pants and he groans. You move your hips back and forth, just enough friction to make his fingers curl, nails biting into your skin.
This, you think, this is just what you’ve been craving. This sense of presence, of awareness. Your heartbeats growing faster. Pulling, tasting, wanting. More.
You only break the kiss to undo his belt, and he chases after your lips, hazy, starving.
You can relate.
He is already rock hard when you pull him out of his pants, ready and leaking. He pushes into your touch, raw need taking over.
You let out an appreciative hum, positioning yourself in his lap, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest. You want him to feel good, after all, no: you need him to.
You haven’t been sated in so long.
"Witcher," you chuckle breathlessly as his arms tighten around you, caging you against his body. "Aren’t you supposed to kill wicked, evil things like me?"
He growls, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You gasp as he drags his tongue over the bite marks immediately; like he’s savouring your taste, too.
When he looks up at you again, his eyes are like molten embers.
Your hand tangles in his hair and you yank his head back to kiss him again, swallowing the sound he makes when you sink down on him, and it’s a pity, really, because you could get your fill from that alone. It’s delectably salty and bitter.
Finally, he’s fully inside you, and he tilts his hips to allow you a better angle as you start moving.
"So good for me," you murmur.
He slaps your hand away when you try to slip it between your bodies, and then his own fingers find your clit, gently teasing at first, but quickly applying more pressure. You gasp, your walls clenching around his cock.
He lets out a breathless huff. "There, huh?"
"That’s it. Just like that."
It’s too much. Your breaths quicken as the air around you starts to hum and crackle with building energy. It’s making your head swim, each precise stroke to your clit bringing you closer to that edge you’re chasing.
His mouth still trails along your neck, nipping there. Your skin already feels sticky with sweat and magic as you’re hurled ever closer to the peak of your arousal.
Just as the tension in your core gets tight enough to snap, he stills completely. His cock is fully sheathed inside you, but he doesn’t move, his arms around you hard and unyielding, not even allowing a single roll of your hips. Something between a whine and a growl escapes your lips as your canines come down hard enough to draw blood.
The Witcher smiles at you hazily. "Do you want to come, little demon?"
You want to bite him. You want to suck out his energy until he’s nothing more than a sad, empty husk.
Your snarl only brings out a dark glint in his eyes, and his hand moves to your neck, forcing you to hold his gaze. His grip tethers you in your denied pleasure.
"Ask nicely," he says lowly, brushing his lips against yours.
Wicked, evil man.
Underneath your skin, your powers are brimming with unease, not yet refilled, not yet repleted; he knows this. You know he knows, and yet you’re unwilling to give in. "Or what?"
His grin widens just a fracture as his chin juts out in unmatched arrogance. You could burn it off his face. You could dig your claws into the gashes in his chest and widen them even more, feast on his blood instead.
"I know you need it," he says. His cock twitches inside you. "Beg."
A shiver goes down your spine, hot and cold at the same time.
You don’t beg. Ever. You don’t yield control, not even for your meal, especially not to someone like him. But then he expertly applies pressure to your throat and your eyes roll back in your head, all thoughts lost to the thick haze of your desire.
"Please," you whimper, clenching around him again. "Please fuck me."
He groans, hips stuttering into yours involuntarily before he moves in earnest, keeping his hand on your throat. It’s almost agonisingly slow at first, one roll of his hips almost letting him slip out of your cunt completely before he pushes back in with one single, firm stroke.
Your startled cry of pleasure gets stifled by his mouth, coaxing, biting, until your claws dig into the thick muscles on his shoulders. The arm around your back guides your movement, pressing you even closer to his body than before as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.
You’re so close. You can already taste the precipice, black stars dancing along the edge of your vision.
Another moan rips out of you when you come apart for air, mouths open. "That’s it," he pants, watching you through half-lidded eyes, "Come for me."
His voice cracks with rapture, and it’s that more than the feeling of his own climax that sends you over the edge.
This part of your nature never gets old: As the orgasm rushes through you, the pent-up energy surrounding you snaps like lightning, funnelling into your body like an invisible current until you shudder blissfully with your appetite sustained. Your magic crackles around you, dancing on your burning skin like sparks of fire.
You hum appreciatively, your eyes still closed as you take a moment to collect yourself. This day has taken a pleasantly surprising turn, after all. It’s been too long since you’ve felt so thoroughly sated.
However, when you try to move out of his lap, the Witcher’s grip on you tightens decisively.
"Is that it?"
Your eyes fly open.
He is breathing heavily, but despite his loss of blood and the energy you’ve pulled from him, there’s not a trace of exhaustion to be found. He still has that same dangerous twinkle in his gaze. Fire and fury. Something lurches in your stomach.
"I thought your kind’s supposed to be insatiable," he says, leaning in to nuzzle at your collarbone. His medallion bumps against your breasts with a sharp vibration as his fingers trail down your side, a slow, torturously delicate touch. "You can give me one more."
It’s not a question. Still, the hands parting your legs even further are almost as gentle as they are relentless. A light press to your overstimulated clit has you keen, spasming around his cock, and he chuckles lowly.
"Eyes on me."
You hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut again. You’re leaning heavily into him now, another wave of pleasure starting to build as the smell of his magic envelopes you.
He growls, moving both of you around so you’re spread open on your dining table, him leaning over you with a look that wants to devour you whole. Like you’re the one being served up for him to make a meal out of. Impossibly, he’s growing hard again as his deft hands coax you closer to your next release.
"Just one more."
It’s such an obvious lie, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re brimming with energy, dizzyingly replenished and yet still ravenous. The air is humming with it, the promise of more.
"Don’t lie to me, Witcher," you still gasp.
His smile is positively sinful. "You said it yourself. I’m just so generous."
You’re so full. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his aura flickering with lust, rich and decadent and beautiful.
"In other words," he continues, his lips brushing your ear right as you reach your peak again. "We are just getting started."
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this fic was brought to you by horny hyperfixations. reblogs and comments are what keep your local writers sustained!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics to get notified whenever i post 💛
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delayed-affection · 5 months ago
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hi! new to the blog but really love it :) could you do a Joe Burrow oneshot where reader shows up to a game wearing someone else’s jersey by accident and he gets a little jealous <3
Wrong Jersey
Joe burrow x reader
Oneshots Navigation
Warnings: none?
Word count: 1.5k
You were in a rush when getting ready for one of Joe’s games. Having just got off of work it was hell trying to get ready and leave when you needed to.
Joe made a special request for today’s game and that was for you to wear one of his jerseys.
So you did… Well you thought you did.
When you on your way out you just pulled out one of the many jerseys that he owns. Based on the color you thought it was his LSU one but it was Ja’marr’s.
You didn’t notice until you got to the stadium and someone complemented it. Making you do a double take on the jersey number on your chest.
You think about heading to the team store but it was packed with people. Sighing and head to your seat in the box with his family.
When you finally sit down your phone chimes.
Pulling your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it, opening your message app you see Joe’s name at the top of your screen.
It’s probably just his usual pregame message I think, which usually just consists of wish me luck and I love you’s.
Opening the text, The message reads…
‘Hey babe, I have a small favor to ask.’
You quickly send a message back, ‘Yeah, what is it?’
You watch as the three little dots come up and disappear.
‘So when you got dressed today, you grabbed a jersey, right?’
Fuck, you think to yourself before typing, ‘Yeah, why?’
Already having a feeling that he’s going to ask for a picture.
‘Can you send me a picture of you in the jersey?’
You take a deep breath unsure of how he will react to you having the wrong jersey on. Lifting up your phone you take a quick pic for him.
Snapping a photo and hitting send. Almost instantly he replies.
‘Is that Ja’marr’s jersey?’
You could see the three dots at the bottom of the screen to indicate that he was typing again.
But they disappear and no text comes through.
You try texting a quick apology just in case you had upset him.
‘I’m sorry, it was an accident I’ll triple check next time.’
Sending the text only for it to be left on delivered.
A few moments later the game starts.
Joe is out on the field stretching with the rest of the boys not looking very happy.
The first half of the game, Joe was on fire, making incredible plays and leading the team to a comfortable lead. None of his passes however going to Ja’marr.
Joe heads into the locker room for halftime.
By this point, you’re starting to worry if he’s genuinely upset with you.
After a while, he hasn’t replied to your text message and starts feeling a little bad.
A few minutes later the team comes out of the tunnel and takes the field once again. The game continues with Joe playing even better than he did in the first half.
He’s running more or doing more handoffs, anything but throwing the ball to his right hand man.
Joe was playing incredibly well considering the fact that he hasn’t even thrown a pass in the direction of his usually primary receiver.
The boys manage to secure a 42-21 victory by the end of the game.
The team gets off the field and heads into the locker room while the crowd of Bengals fans and away fans filter out of the stadium.
Unsure if you want to go down and see him or head home and wait for him there.
You sit in your seat for a while until friends and family clear out of the box you’re sitting in. Leaving you alone in the now nearly empty box suite for a few minutes.
Joe still hasn’t replied to your text or even acknowledged you since he saw you in the wrong jersey, leaving you worried about his reaction to seeing you after the game.
After waiting for a while you eventually decide that you’ll start to make your way to the parking lot to head home.
Maybe getting out of the Jersey before he sees you is the best decision of all.
You head over to your car and climb into the driver’s seat. Sitting there for a moment, you pull your jersey over your head and put it into the passenger seat.
You start up the car and begin driving home.
You drive home in silence, listening to the radio on your way there. It’s a quiet drive home, almost eerie.
After pulling up the car in the driveway and turning it off, you get out of the car and head inside.
You enter the house and toss your keys on the counter. Shutting the door behind you.
Knowing you have some time before he gets home you decide to put on an actual shirt and order some of his favorite food.
You change into a simple shirt and put your order in.
Taking a seat on the couch in your living room and trying to relax your nerves in the silence.
Waiting for him to get home.
After a while of quiet, you start to hear noises from outside.
You hear his car pull into the driveway and the engine shut off.
His car door shut followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting behind him.
Joe walks into the living room and sets his keys and wallet on the coffee table. He does everything but look in your direction.
He finally looks in your direction.
He sees you sitting on the couch and he immediately looks down at what you’re wearing.
“So, you changed.”, he says gruffly.
“I did.”, you nod speaking softly.
He walks over and takes a seat in the chair across from you. There’s a slight tension in the air.
“You know, I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to see you in my jersey.” He says with a slight tone of annoyance.
“I know, it was a mistake. I put it on without looking at it, I was in rush.” You explain to him.
Joe sighs and rubs his forehead, the irritation showing on his face, “You didn’t even notice that you had on the wrong jersey?”
You shake your head, "Not until I got to the stadium."
"So you're telling me that you walked into that stadium with a jersey that had Ja'marr's name on the back on and you didn't think that it might upset me just a little?" His voice carrying a tone of jealousy.
"It was a pure accident, Joe, I'm sorry." You tell him, “I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”
"You're sorry?" He asks, lifting his head up.
"Do you know how badly it ticked me off to knowing that you were walking around with that jersey on? You might as well have had one with Mahomes on it."
He let's out a small huff and crosses his arms, "Do you not understand that I wanted to see you in my jersey, not his?"
"I-..." You sigh and stand up, marching over to the bedroom.
He stands up and follows you.
"Where are you going?" He asks, frustration evident in his voice.
Opening the closet and taking out one his jerseys, making sure this one has his last name and number on it.
You slip off your shirt and pull on the jersey.
Joe stands in the doorway as he watches you pull his jersey over your head. He glances up and down, looking you over.
"Is this better for you?" You huff motioning to the jersey.
"It's better than the last one, yes." He says with a slight nod.
He can't deny that seeing you in his jersey didn't make his heart start to beat faster.
It wasn't even a sexual thing, seeing you wear his clothes just made him happy.
He wanted to claim you, he wanted to make sure the world knew that you are his and only his. And you wearing Ja’Marr’s jersey definitely did not get that message across.
He walks over to you and steps closer, towering over you, looking down at you, "Do you understand why it bothered me seeing you in another man's jersey?"
He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, "Because you're mine and I don't want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you."
His hand glides up to your chin and gently lifts your face up, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
The look on his face has changed, the irritation has been replaced with a combination of lust and possessiveness.
The sight of you in his jersey, looking up at him with those innocent eyes, it's making his mind go into a frenzy.
He leans down and plants his lips on your neck.
He kisses up the sensitive skin to your ear.
"You look good in my jersey." He whispered in a low tone, his breath hot against your skin, "Let's keep it that way."
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fallatyourfeet · 7 months ago
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No Negotiations (Thomas Shelby x Reader - One shot)
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Summary: Tommy thought he had been very careful keeping his relationship with YN a secret, but no, his number one enemy had discovered you. And these things rarely playout well in the world of the Peaky Blinders.
Word count: 1807
Warnings: Quite a few F bombs and quite a bit of angst. Maybe it ends well, maybe it doesn't.
A/N: This fic was a request and it's been a long time coming. I'm so happy to finally post something again.
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Gif: I don't know who this Gif belongs too, but I'd love to give credit to the creator if anyone knows.
Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.
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It was a particularly complicated time in Tommy’s life. There were a lot of different things going down. Dangerous things. And it most definitely was not a great time to be dating anyone. But YN wasn’t just ‘anyone’. To Tommy, she had very quickly and very unexpectantly, become everything. For the past year, it was YN that kept him sane during the whole fracture between his family. And with Luca Changretta still plotting his revenge against every single member of the Shelby clan, he thanked God that he had kept her completely separated from his family and business life. She was his escape. With her, his existence was simpler, uncomplicated. Cherished. Every secret second he stole by her side recharged him, settled him in ways he could never have imagined. Every night spent warming her bed gave him hours of blissful dreamless sleep. So, when he looked up from the ringside during the Goliath vs Bonnie Gold match to see her seat empty, he found himself unable to breathe.
Tommy started the night in good spirits, just happy knowing YN was there. Even if she was sitting anonymously across the opposite side of the hall, finding his thoughts already caught amongst the quiet moments he would steal away with her at the end of the night. When Arthur grew concerned of the men in Goliath’s corner, he urged him not to worry, to calm down and enjoy the match. And even when one of the men disappeared from ringside and Arthur felt the need to investigate, Tommy thought it was his older brother’s paranoia taking hold. But when Arthur didn’t return before the second man in Goliath’s corner slipped into the crowd, Tommy instantly found his stomach in knots, his eyes gravitating to YN’s seat.
It was empty.
Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she had slipped away to the ladies. Or maybe she found herself completely disinterested in boxing and left to wait for him at their hotel room. Or maybe the growing knot in his stomach told him something much more unthinkable was taking place. Jumping from his seat, Tommy wasted no more time, easily slipping through the crowd, following the same path as Arthur.
It was unnervingly quiet walking down the passage and into the back rooms of the venue, Tommy barely registering the excitement of the crowd as it faded into the background. Only interested in the silence around him. But it was too much. Bellowing out both YN and Arthur’s name, his voice echoed and bounced off the tiled walls around him, his call answered by a gun shot. Tommy’s blood ran cold. The deafening sound vibrated through every cell in his body as if it had pierced his very flesh and Tommy couldn’t escape the hollow feeling that YN was somehow tangled in the mess.
Tommy moved desperately in and out of doorways in the direction of the gunshot, finding nothing. Until he turned the corner into a dimly lit room. But there was no mistaking what he saw, and he knew the scene before him would be forever burnt to his memory, causing him instantaneous regret. Arthur hunched over, visibly shaken as he clutched at his blood-stained neck, working hard to regain his breath. But he was alive. And beside him lay one of the men from Goliath’s corner, in a pool of his own blood, his face half blown away. But it was YN. Standing in that very same room, a room she was never supposed to be in, that had the regret burning like fire in his throat. Backed up against the cold tiled wall her whole body was trembling, arms outstretched as her hands clamped around Arthur’s pistol; knuckles white.
Tommy stepped into the room, startling her. Terrified, her trembling body swung around to face him, waving Arthur’s pistol unsteadily in his direction. All her features were overcome with fear, drained and washed out, his regret now burning bitter in his mouth. Moving towards her, he outstretched his hands, recognition dawning across her face. And when he whispered her name, she fell apart.
Simultaneously, the pistol slipped from her fingers, as her body slid down the wall, Tommy reaching her before she hit the floor, cradling her head, whispering against her ear, “It’s okay… you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Shaking his head, he found it hard to keep control of his voice, guilt ripping through his words, “I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry… I didn’t want this for you… I…” Tommy felt sick seeing her this way. Because of him, she had taken a man’s life, she didn’t deserve that kind of burden and there was nothing he could do to take it back.
“Tommy.” Arthur’s hoarse voice broke through his stupor. Looking across to his brother, he was no longer hunched over, but was instead standing before him, a steady stream of blood running from a gash to his neck. Speaking again, he gestured to the body on the floor, his words rough and strained, “I don’t know who the hell she is, Tommy, but he was tryin’ to drag her out the fuckin’ door.” Running blood-stained hands through his hair, he rubbed the back of his head, “I ripped her from his grip, but he fuckin’ got me Tommy, he had me… I’d be dead. She saved my fuckin’ arse.”
Tommy shuddered, not even allowing himself to think about what might have happened if Arthur didn’t reach her in time, all while he was too busy ignoring his brother’s concerns. Sudden gratitude spilled from his mouth, “Thank you, Arthur. You were right… I didn’t listen, but you were fucking right.”
Arthur crouched down, and whispered as if there were people in the room who could listen, “Who is she Tommy, and what does Changretta want with her?”
Surely the fact that he was on the ground cradling YN was explanation enough, but Tommy answered anyway, “She’s my girlfriend… I love her… that’s the all reason he needs.” And it was those words as they left his lips, that brought about an instant and upsetting decision.
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Luca Changretta was no longer a threat. He had been dealt with in the most final way. Until the moment Arthur unloaded a bullet into his head, Changretta thought both Arthur and YN were dead, leaving Tommy’s exit plan for the mafia boss sailing through without a hitch. But there was still one thing left for Tommy to do. Something that tore at his insides, just thinking about it. But there was no other choice.
It was necessary.
Staring at YN’s front door, he took a deep breath, unable to put it off any longer. Lifting the iron knocker, he tapped it against the timber and cleared his throat, waiting for the sound of her footsteps and yet, hoping not to hear them. Never had he waited at her door with such trepidation, any stress or worries usually melted away the moment his eyes caught sight of her house. Always far too confident that he’d never been seen. God, he had been so fucking stupid.
YN opened the door with one of her breathtaking smiles, she was not going to make this easy. Fuck, he was going to miss those smiles. Burning the image to memory, he went to speak, but she leaned forward and planted a kiss to his lips, her sweet voice announcing, “Thomas Shelby… you’re late, you’re never late.” Tommy inhaled deeply, knowing that soon enough he wouldn’t be able to recall the sound of her voice, when what he really wanted was to wake up to it every single morning.  
Internally nodding, Tommy realised she was right, he had been putting this meeting off all afternoon, and when she stepped aside to let him come in, he found his feet cemented to her doorstep, his voice lost upon his lips. Seeing his hesitation, her features suddenly clouded with apprehension and concern. And it tore him to shreds. “What’s wrong, Tommy? What happened?” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him inside, sitting them both down in the parlour, “Tell me, what’s going on?”
Tommy didn’t want to be inside her house, he wanted to drop the news and leave, but she deserved more, so much more. Chewing on his lip, he inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, working hard to keep his voice convincing, “YN… I… I can’t be with you anymore.” YN jumped from the seat as if he’d slapped her. Tommy’s eyes shifted to the floor, concentrating on a scratch in the timber beside his foot, “It’s not safe anymore… people know who you are now… I… I’d never survive if something happened to you... I’d never forgive myself.”
“Tommy!” A few seconds of silence followed before she called his name again, “Tommy… you need to look at me!” This was not a good idea, no good could come from seeing her face, but how could he deny her? After everything she had given him over the past year. All those stolen moments and blissful memories… memories that would keep him functioning during all the lonely nights that would follow without her.
Lifting his head, he kept his gaze unfocused, worried her expression might destroy his resolve. Not that it mattered, her words and tone conveyed everything. She was furious. But she didn’t raise her voice once. “No… No Tommy.” Her comment snapped his eyes into focus and the determination he saw; on her face; in her posture, it took him by surprise.
Shifting in his seat, he couldn’t think, couldn’t stop the internal wall of his will from crumbling, with every word she spoke. “I won’t let you do this. I could die crossing the road today. I could get sick tomorrow and die next week. I could die giving birth or fall asleep and never wake up.” Drawing a breath, she shook her head, it was barely noticeable, “People die every day, Tommy, there’s nothing we can do about it, but I’m not going to let you give me up.”
Knealing down, her hands enveloped his face, demanding his attention, “I’m not going to miss out on a life with you, how ever long or short that may be… Do you not think I’m terrified of losing you too?”
Tommy shook his head, but his wall of resolve was gone, and he knew the words he spoke were no more than white noise, “My life… it’s dangerous… Just being with me is-”
Losing patience, she cut his white noise short with unyielding hands, refusing to let him look away. Her eyes were fierce. And her decision was final. There would be no negotiations. “Just shut up Tommy, stop talking. I love you. And I know you love me…. I’m not stupid, I know the risk I’m taking. But for you, I’m willing to take it.”
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elizabebabe · 4 months ago
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camp woodshine ໑᱖ matt sturniolo
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‘just broken people healing each other.’
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆ at the ripe age of 7 camp: woodshine became the center of y/n ‘s happiness, when she left and inevitably became older the bullying she endured deepened sending her back into a dark hole but what happens when she reconnects with the boy she grew close with at camp in their smaller than they thought town?
follow through the memories spiraling in y/n’s mind and back to reality: her harsh reality.
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pairing: depressedf!y/n x quiet!matt
they’re in highschool, around 17.
onlychild!matt universe.
warnings: these will update over time so keep an eye out with this list, every chapter will have it’s own warnings so it’s not too important but if you wanted to read them all at once they will be here:
use of y/n, depression, zoning-out, jumping pov’s from child!y/n to teenage!y/n.
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chapter 1 preview:
zoning out at the empty spot of your desk, tear stains and rubbed out eyeliner decorating your face.
it’s hard not to go back to the simpler times, your favorite childhood memories.
woodshine.
your mom, noticing your lack of friends and sudden mood changes blissfully unaware of the bullying you suffered from at only 7 years old, decided it would be best to chuck you to camp: woodshine, settled in your small town and known for helping kids with lack of social interaction.
the memories are scattered but conflictingly fresh in your mind, the mind that jumps between the peaceful thoughts taking you out of that cold classroom and to the cabin‘s tucked into a few trees.
“g’morning campers!” the usual morning call, waking all the small bodies around you, you remember the drowsy feeling in the mornings, the chills crawling your skin as soon as the cool air brushes over you...
the smell of snotty girls cozy in a cabin, as weird as it sounded you missed it.
“hey, y/n.” you felt your arm being tapped, the same sweet, calming and comforting voice edging you awake.
“it’s morning sweetheart!” the voice excited as she continued your little routine that would set a tradition with your resistance to awaken.
a ‘humph’ escaped your throat as you were never really a morning person.
‘tap’ ‘tap’
the sound of your pencil hitting at the wooden desk you sat at momentarily bringing you away from the peaceful sun-rays, you focused back on the same spot of your desk, the teacher's stern voice drowned out as you attempted to relive the distant memory.
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🏷️ @fratbrochrisgf @3lizaluvs @lily-strnlo @i-love-ptv @venusjaynie @jetaimevous @lizzysmith110 @firexovni @bagsbyclair0.
🕰️ dividers: @xxbimbobunnyxx, @saradika-graphics, @plutism.
credits: @sirenedeslily has quickly become one of my favorite blogs and she has easily inspired me to put more work into the things i post, so this post is heavily inspired by her, go check out her blog/stories and ‘YOURS TRULY’ profiles as they’re all done!!
thoughts: i haven’t forgot about love island for any of you that are wondering about it, i know it’s been longer than a month since the last installment but i genuinely lost motivation for a bit since it got repetitive, they wake up, get ready:breakfast, chill, maybe do a challenge, get ready for the evening, talk, sleep. but that doesn’t mean it’s not still being worked on just a little slower than everything else i’m doing since i have to be in a certain mood to write it, just be patient with me and maybe enjoy my other work in the time being, anyway super excited about this, love yous.
soon to be on the rack!
© elizabebabe
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celestialprincesse · 8 months ago
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if this is something you’re interested in, I’d love to see Simon accidentally losing his temper and making it up to you <333 he’s just a big guy and doesn’t really realise how intimidating he can appear! he’s the sweetest though :(
Taking some artistic liberties with this because I refuse to give men the right to yell as the president/princess of this here blog!!
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All day you've felt the distance between you and Simon. A gaping, empty hole in your normally cozy, quiet home. Of course, you'll give him the patience he always affords you, you'll give him time and space if that's what he wants. But you can't exactly work out what he needs when he'll barely speak to you.
His silence doesn't soothe the anxiety in your gut telling you that you're the source of the problem.
Eventually, you find yourself breaking, sitting on the couch responding to an email, going through the motions with robotic thoughtlessness. You're so strung out by your own anxiety, yiu find yourself crying, little pathetic sniffles as you try to convince yourself to grow up and push your feelings aside.
"Bird?" Snaps you from your self pity. Sends your hands flying up to wipe at your eyes. Fruitless, seeing as he's already noticed your tears, a concerned look furrowing his brows. Before you can protest, tell him you're fine, he's kneeling before you on the rug, still at your eye level, despite the fact you're sat on the couch.
All coldness is gone as he takes in your ruddy cheeks and watering eyes, pulling you into his chest the minute he realises why you're crying, why you're hiding from him.
"Are you mad at me?" You hiccup, wiping your runny nose absently on the back of your sleeve as you wait for an answer, only to see Simon look so utterly broken at your question.
"Wha-Why would I be angry at you, hm?" He soothes, thumbs brushing gently across your tear streaked cheeks. "Haven't done anything wrong." Simon murmurs into the hair at the crown of your head, a large hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.
You feel like an idiot, so worked up by your own thoughts, your imagination. "Barely talked to me all day."
"Oh baby." You're soothed with such gentleness you can't help but to cry more, sniffling fat tears into the fabric of Simon's shirt.
Jostling slightly, Simon keeps you pressed into his chest as he joins you up on the couch, his free hand cradling the nape of your neck, keeping you close.
"M'sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you, yeah?"
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