#to celebrate the return of his black hair

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Foul legacy wearing a tiny party hat:

Traveler / the court of Fontaine: what the fuck are you wearing

Foul legacy : *Angey chirping defending how party hats are badass and walks off, revealing he has creator melusine on his back with a similar party hat.*

hehe no one questions Melusine Creator!!!

you delight in making any sort of craft with whatever you can get your little hands on down in Merusea, tinkering with the bits of scrap metal and making paints out of new materials with Mamere, many of them sourced by none other than Legacy himself when he has to return to the surface. so of course when there's any reason to celebrate you make little party hats, complete with a tiny sea frond on the tip to act as the pom-pom and colorful stripes so carefully painted on. you make one for yourself, one for Monsieur Neuvillette, and of course one for Foul Legacy, balanced carefully in between his horns. and even when he's not Legacy, when he's Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger, it's still cheerfully nestled in his coppery hair as he goes about his business

it's Arlecchino of all people who finally steps up to him when he's visiting the House of the Hearth, giving him a squinted look and asking what in the Tsaritsa's name is on his head. Childe looks absolutely AFFRONTED, stepping aside to show her you behind his legs, blinking up at the Fourth innocently. Arlecchino just stares at you, eyes going from the hat on your head to Childe's as he scoops you into his arms with a grin. yours is in all the colors of the seven elements, Childe's in blue and purple and black and red. slowly, you pull out another party hat seemingly from nowhere, reaching forward with your mittens to place it on top of Arlecchino's head, this one red and gray and black and white just for her

she lets it happen. you and the children's smiles are worth looking a little silly

[professorsnape394]

Day 10: Dream Come True

Pairing: Severus Snape x ex-student

Rating: 🥵 ?

Prompt: Dream

A/N: Loved writing this one!! Hope ya'll have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

Warnings: ex-student and teacher hooking up.

Word Count: 3170

Credits to Gif Creator

Severus had always loathed Lucius Malfoy’s elaborate parties. He threw them multiple times a year, celebrating every possible occasion, and Severus almost always declined the invitation. While he would know most people in attendance, Snape wasn’t one to socialise and a party was his idea of literal hell. However, given that Lucius was the closest thing Severus had to a friend, he made a point to show face at one event each year; often staying for no longer than an hour or so and spending most of the time hauled up in the kitchen alone. Which is where he happened to find himself tonight.

Having already circulated the crowds earlier in the evening, Severus was simply buying time before he made his goodbyes and returned home to the peace of Spinner’s end. The drinks and food were set out on a banquet table in the drawing room of the manor, meaning he often had the kitchen entirely to himself to drink bottle after bottle of FireWhiskey alone.

This evening seemed to be following the same suit as usual, until his tranquillity was disturbed by the entrance of a familiar young woman and her absolutely foul mouth.

“Fucking disgusting shit. Who the fuck does he think I am. And why the hell is it blue?” She muttered to herself, staring deeply at the electric looking cocktail in her hand. She made a direct bee line for the sink and dumped the entire contents of her glass down the drain.

Severus couldn’t help but let out a small scoff of approval at the girl’s words. He, of course, recognised her from her time as a student at Hogwarts. Not only had he been the Head of her House, and Potion’s Master, he often found himself telling her off for her bad language at the risk losing points from the other professors. Severus himself didn’t mind it so much, in fact he found it rather amusing, which must explain why he was no where near as irritated as he usually would be by the disturbance.

“Professor Snape?”

The girl stopped in her tracks, eyeing the Potion’s Master appreciatively. Her tone had dropped to an almost sultry timbre.

Severus remembered now why he always seemed to be giving the girl into trouble. This particular young woman had not been nearly as discreet with her girlhood crush as she may have expected. It had been obvious to him that she acted out in his classes simply to get a rise out of him, and best-case scenario she would earn a detention, prolonging their time together. The latter Severus did not indulge, the last thing he needed was a hormonal teenager making heart eyes at him from across the classroom.

From the way she looked at him now, the young witch had yet to grow out of her school-girl crush. Feeling the effects of the sheet amount of alcohol he had consumed; Severus couldn’t resist raking his eyes over the woman’s figure in return. She was after all, no longer his student.  

While her bad habits still remained, her appearance had changed a lot in a few short years. Her hair was longer now, darker too; she wore it down as she always had, allowing it to flow down her back like a waterfall of obsidian waves. Her previously baby face had been replaced by much sharper features; high cheek bones and a defined jaw line, lips that sat in a permanent perfect pout, painted a deep shade of red that only enticed him further. The dress she wore, tight and black, displayed her curves from ever possible angle, the lowcut neckline drawing his eyes to the exposed swell of her breasts.

“Miss Y/L/N.” He stated simply, not allowing his voice to betray his less than appropriate thoughts.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” She sauntered toward him, swaying her hips with each step.

It wasn’t lost on her that her old professor had just been checking her out, in fact she welcomed it. Since her crush on him first developed in her fifth year, she had long since dreamed of running into him again after she graduated. It pleased her to know that now they were reunited, he seemed to appreciate her just as much as she did him.

“I could say the same for you.” He raised a single eyebrow at her, his eyes never leaving her body as she approached.

“Not sure why.” She shrugged, settling against the kitchen island opposite him. “I’ve been at every party this year. Draco keeps inviting me.”

“As his date?” The simple question drew a wide smile from Y/N.

Was Severus Snape jealous?

“I assume so. But if he keeps making me drinks that look like the result of a chemical reaction, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

Severus scoffed again, amused by her words.

Y/N watched as took a long sip of his whiskey, draining the remainder of his glass.

“What are you drinking?”

“FireWhiskey.” He said plainly.

“Mind if I join you?”

Severus glanced at the woman out the corner of his eye as she came to lean on the cabinet next time him.

“Be my guest. However, this is the last of this bottle.” He said, as he filled his glass. “I’m sure there’s more in the next room, if you feel like re-joining the party.”

“Not particularly.” She huffed, folding her arms over her chest only to further accentuate her breasts. “Draco’s been fallowing me around like a lost puppy all night, I could really use a break.”

“And if I asked you to leave?” He tested, pining her with a stern gaze.

“I’d say tough. You don’t own this space, I have just a much right to be here as you do.” She never had yielded to his dominance.

“Well then.” He outstretched his arm to her, offering up his renewed glass of whiskey. “You might as well enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

Y/N accepted with a smile and a wink. Severus remained stoic, attempting to seem unfazed by her gesture. Y/N always knew Severus would be a tough nut to crack if this day came. But after years of dealing with a pining Draco, she could use the challenge.

“Why are you hauled up in here anyway? Avoiding someone?”

“Everyone.”

Severus couldn’t peel his eyes away from her mouth as she drank form his glass, her crimson lips staining the rim of the crystal. He felt his pulse quicken when her tongue darted out to collect any remnants of the amber liquid from her lips.

“Everyone?” She looked at him inquisitively, returning the glass to him. “Then why come at all if all you’re going to do is hide away in here the whole night.”

“Lucius is a friend. The least I can do is show face, but beyond I have no interest in attending these infernal events. So, I simply wait it out in here until such time as it is appropriate to leave.”

“Does it never occur to you that had you to actually venture out into the crowds, you might meet someone to help pass the time. A woman perhaps?”

Severus laughed into his glass, being careful to avoid the spot her mouth had just been. He knew this was her way of testing him, unfortunately he couldn’t help but fall for her bait; hook, line and sinker.

“I have no interest in any of the woman beyond that door.” His eyes finally met hers, their intense gazes boring into one another. A challenge to make the first move.  

“What about those within this room, professor.” Y/N dared to venture.

That final word shook Severus back to reality; the sudden realisation that he was entering dangerous territory with a former student had him eager to make a swift exit.

“I think that may be my queue to go.” He set his now empty glass back on the counter.

“Wait. Stay for one more.” She pleaded, gripping his bicep in one last desperate attempt. It worked, Severus hesitated at her touch.

“It may have escaped your notice, Miss Y/L/N, but not only is the bottle finished, but so too is my glass. There is no ‘one more’.”

“I know where Lucius keeps his private stash. Draco and I would break into it all the time when we were younger.”

Despite his brain telling him it was time to go, Snape couldn’t resist the appeal of the young woman in front of him; her doe like eyes begging him to stay. It was obvious she was just as enticed by him as he was of her. And the fact remained; she was no longer his student. Still, it seemed wrong somehow.

“That would explain all those parties in the Slytherin common room I was forced to disband.” Severus raised a questioning brow.

“Guilty.” She smirked.

“You know those were the bane of my life. Dealing with drunk and hungover underage students wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my weekends.”

“Just be grateful I was smart enough to avoid you, I can be quite the handful when I’m drunk.”

Severus didn’t know when she had gotten close to him again, but he wasn’t opposed to the way her hand rested on his chest as she fidgeted with the button of his robes.

“Show me.” He swallowed, nodding down to her.

Y/N led Severus through a door in the kitchen, to a wine cellar in the basement. In the corner of the room stood a solitary shelf of finely-aged whiskey, worth more than two teenagers could have even comprehended.

Snape watched on as the woman struggled to reach the top shelf where the best whiskey was kept. He made no attempt to look away when the hem of her dress began to slowly rise over the curve of her ass. He no longer felt so guilty checking her out down here in the dark.

“Clever girl.” Severus purred when Y/N handed him a dusty bottle for him to inspect. “These are what you stole?”

Y/N bit her lip and looked down guiltily.

“I don’t think we realised how expensive they were at the time. We just wanted to have a bit of fun.”

“Mmm. You always were trouble.” He eyed her once more.

“Still am.” She winked again.

Y/N led Severus back to the kitchen, leaving no trace of them behind besides the empty space on he shelf she had no intention of filling.

Despite the kitchen being full of glass and crystal ware, Severus opted to pour another singular glass for the two of them to share.

Y/N watched on fervently as Severus brought the glass to his lips, this time placing his mouth directly over where her lips had been. God, how she wished to know what his lips felt like on her, what he tasted like.

“Good?” She continued to look up at him, practically drooling now.

“Delicious.”

Y/N watched in awe as her ex-professor absent-mindedly run his tongue along a small part of the glass.

Without thought, Y/N brought a thumb to his mouth, brushing the pad gently across his bottom lip.

“Lipstick.” She explained. “Can’t have you leaving here looking like that, people will talk.”

“And what, exactly, will people say.” Severus closer to the young witch, his inhibitions slowly fading which each gulp of alcohol.

“They’d think you were with a woman.” She started, her voice now barely a whisper. “Of course, they wouldn’t know who at first. But seeing that colour on your lips, they’d begin to speculate. And when they saw me follow you out of here… We’ll they’d put two and two together, and jump to a whole lot of conclusions.”

“What sort of conclusions?” He passed the whiskey to her, allowing him to move closer still, their bodies close enough to touch.

“All kinds of things. The most obvious being that we kissed, but their minds wouldn’t stop there. Two people, alone in the kitchen at a party, we could have been up to anything in here.” With every word she spoke she drew Severus in closer, her lips calling to him like a siren to a sailor. “They’d assume we kissed. Maybe, we made out. But ultimately, they’re going to think we had sex. A teacher and his ex-student. How scandalous. There would be rumours about us; what we did in here. They’d say I seduced you with my body. They’d say you got me drunk. They’d say we fucked right here in the Malfoy’s kitchen, all while Draco searched the party for his supposed date.”

The mention of Draco began to boil Severus’ blood, he wasn’t oblivious to how close the pair were and he knew, if given the chance, Draco would have Y/N for his own. He wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Then let’s give them a reason to talk.” Severus stated firmly.

With his permission, Y/N threw herself at Severus. Her lips crashing to his hungrily. Like a starving hyena finally eating after being denied it’s prey for so long.

Practically throwing the whiskey glass aside, Y/N wrapped her arms around Severus’ neck, pulling her body closer to his. Severus felt his way around her; one hand coming to rest on the side of her face, the other gripping her rear possessively. The two became deaf to the world around them. Passion taking over as they devoured the other breathlessly.

Letting himself get carried away in the moment, it never occurred to Severus to move to a less public location. All sense of propriety gone with the taste of her lips.

Gripping her by her thighs, Severus lifted Y/N onto one of the kitchen cabinets, positioning himself between her open legs. Feeling the hardness of his cock at her core, Y/N let out a strangled moan.

Severus broke for breath, kissing his way down her exposed neck and chest, occasionally nipping at her pale white skin. Seconds before Snape was about to rip off the woman’s dress and fuck her in the middle of the kitchen island, footsteps and voices grew louder as they approached.

“Have you checked the kitchen, Draco? She can’t have gone far.”

“Not yet father, I’m just about to look.”

“Shit.”

“Fuck.” The pair swore in unison.

Y/N quickly jumped from her spot on the counter, making sure to right any clothing that may have gone awry. Severus let out a frustrated snarl at being torn away from Y/N.

“I’m going to kill that di-“

“Y/N?” Draco called out upon entering the room.

Neither Snape nor Y/N made an attempt to move away from the other.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry Draco.” Y/N replied through gritted teeth. “I ran into Professor Snape. We we’re just catching up.”

“I see.” The younger Malfoy eyed them suspiciously. “My father is about to make an announcement,  he wants everyone to gather in the drawing room.”

“Of course.” She smiled falsely, making to meet Draco by the door.

“Here.” Severus stopped her, clenching his jaw and handing over the almost full glass of whiskey. “You’ll need it.”

“Thank you.” She grinned, lingering when his hand brushed against hers.

The three of them exited the kitchen and made their way through the manor; Severus taking a different route from the others, letting himself get lost in the crowd.

As soon as he was out of her sight, Y/N started to panic that she had missed her shot at the one thing she had been dreaming about since she was 15 years old. Draco had interrupted what was easily the hottest make out session of her life and now there seemed to be no chance of her and Snape actually finishing what they had started.

“What were you and Snape doing in the kitchen for so long?” Draco finally broke the awkward silence that had developed.

“Hmm. Oh, we we’re just having a drink together and chatted about all those times you and I pissed him off with our parties in the common room.”

“What are you drinking? What happened to the one I gave you?” He didn’t even seem to be listening to a word she was saying.

“Erm… I finished it. Sev- Snape poured me a glass of his whiskey.”

“That’s unusually kind of him.” Draco’s intense stare burned a hole in the side of her face.

“I suppose.” She shrugged. “I guess he just likes me.”

Draco didn’t get the chance to object before his father’s voice echoed through the room.

Zoning out after Lucius thanked everyone for coming, Y/N immediately began scanning the crowd for her beloved professor.

Having no luck even after the party commenced, Y/N downed the remains of her drink and followed Draco as he led her into the hall for a more private conversation. Backing her against the wall, Y/N had no way to escape the agony she was about to endure, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.

“Y/N.” He began with a deep breath. “As you know, we’ve been best friends since our first day at Hogwarts. Our families have been intwined since before either of us were even born. We’ve had our fair share of fun together; both as friends and otherwise.” He hinted towards the few drunken nights where they had casually hooked up. It had meant nothing to Y/N, clearly Draco did not feel the same way.

“This year I have felt our relationship has evolved past friendship, and I think it may be time we take the next step. I like you, Y/N. I want you to become my girlfriend, officially.”

“Draco…” She sighed. They had been over this before, she wasn’t interested in being anything other than friends, he just couldn’t take the hint.  

Before she had a chance to break the bad news to him a shadow fell over the pair; Severus Snape towered behind Draco, slapping a large hand on his suited shoulder.

“I’m afraid, Mr Malfoy, I do not believe Y/N is interested in pursuing a relationship with you.”

“Professor Snape.” Draco puffed his chest out, trying hard to hide the look of intimidation evident on his face. “With all due respect I don’t think this has anything to do with you.”

Severus moved the boy aside with ease, positioning himself between his two former students.

“I suggest you leave now, Malfoy, before your feelings get hurt.”

Severus did not warn him again. Instead, he took the opportunity to take Y/N in his arms and pick up exactly where they left off.

“Oh, thank god.” Y/N gasped, clutching at him desperately.

Just as passionately as before, Y/N captured Severus’ mouth with her own, pulling him in by his robes until their bodies were backed up against the wall.

“Want to get out of here?” Severus mumbled against her mouth.

“Fuck yes.”

Ignoring a dumbfounded Draco, the Potions Master and his former student made their way out of Malfoy Manor unable to keep their hands off one another.

Y/N’s dream was finally about to come true.

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

[pathologicalreid]

all we ever do is talk | s.r.

in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from

The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.

Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.

You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?

She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.

JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.

The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”

You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”

He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.

“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.

Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.

You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.

Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”

Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.

“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”

You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.

His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.

“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.

He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.

You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”

Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.

Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”

“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”

He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.

“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.

“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.

Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”

He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”

Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.

Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.

Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.

“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.

Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.

Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.

“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.

He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”

Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.

Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.

Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.

You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”

Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.

Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.

Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”

You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.

“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.

Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.

He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.

Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”

“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.

A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”

Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”

“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”

“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.

You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”

Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.

Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.

He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”

“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.

Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”

Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”

“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”

You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.

He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.

Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.

Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.

You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.

Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.

Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”

Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.

His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.

Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.

In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.

“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”

You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”

He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.

Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.

“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.

You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”

“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.

Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.

“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.

You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”

Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”

Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”

You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”

He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.

Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”

Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”

You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.

“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.

Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.

Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.

He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.

Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.

“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.

You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”

A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.

A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.

Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”

He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”

[shotmrmiller]

a little prologue before i eventually write the schmeat.

pornstar au!

f!reader

Simon retired from the adult entertainment industry at 38 years old, but he'd been in it for a decade and a half.

He left his mark, going down in history as one of the greatest of all time in pornography. Simon was a living legend, and his cock was equally legendary which even attracted the attention of famous personalities. In fact, he made sure they signed an airtight NDA just to have the privilege of having his phone number.

It eventually became dull, however, and decided it was time to call it quits. He'd had his fun and now explicitly works behind the scenes with the casting and directing.

Not for the lack of trying on his hires' part though. He cannot recall how many times he's had actors trying to entice him into bending them over the black leather couch or fuck them against the walls of their dressing rooms.

Simon had retired and meant it.

That was, until you.

A fresh face, a rookie in the business but he's completely mesmerized by the video he's watching featuring his protege, Johnny. The scene itself was nothing special, just a dad's best friend script, but you...something about you was extraordinary.

He felt his manhood stir as he watched your lips parting in a silent scream as a climax washed over you, causing your toes to curl and fingers to dig into Johnny's biceps as he split you open on top of a kitchen counter.

Your eyes clenched tightly in bliss; head thrown back in pleasure. You weren't faking it in the least, not that it was ever in question— there was a frothy, milky cream around the base of Johnny's cock, your body twitched with the aftershocks of it, and he's had more than a lifetime's worth of women and men underneath and on top of him to know what a real orgasm looked like.

You looked delectable. His mouth watered as he thought of getting a taste of you— he wanted to eat that pretty pussy of yours like it was to be his last meal, push his thick fingers into your slick hole and make you ride his hand until you hunched over and gushed arousal down his wrist and forearm.

Simon palmed himself roughly outside of his trousers and hissed when Johnny covered your mouth with his as he rubbed your slippery clit under the pad of his thumb until you broke away to let out a choked scream— another peak that Johnny takes as his.

He fucks you through it with a slow undulation of his hips, just like Simon taught him, and only when your limbs are loose, syrupy, does he finally relent and in a few thrusts, he's pulling out and covering your glistening slit with his spend.

Simon grips his phone so hard, it makes a cracking sound. He's had A-list celebrities with unrivaled beauty begging for him to see them again. He's had Aphrodite in his bed and Adonis on his knees.

And yet none compare to the sight of you, skin dewy with saliva and sweat, damp hair sticking to your forehead, and another man's cum dripping out of you.

He's enthralled.

Simon tosses his cell and briskly walks toward his kitchen island, where his laptop sits. In a matter of minutes, he's sent an email to the company you work for and told them to name their price, he'd pay anything to get you in his studio.

They readily agreed, of course. No one denies Simon anything.

Simon runs his tongue over his teeth in anticipation; he's gonna lift you to the very stars.

Ghost is about to make his long-awaited return and only for you.

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny- pt. 10

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9]

“This you?”

Danny glanced at the stone tablet in Spoiler’s hands and groaned, Phantom form flickering with embarrassment as his face got even more neon green. It was indeed him.

——

The first Atlantean and Ghost King encounter went something like this:

Imagine Danny, sleep deprived. Easy enough. Now, imagine Danny, trying to corral a ghost that had a penchant for sea life.

“Alabastor, I swear to Ancients, if you don’t get back here, I’m gonna make you into ghost sea-food boil!” Danny yelled as he chased Alabastor through the ghost zone. The crustacean shaped ghost cackled, skittering along the Zone.

"Make me, Phantom! You have not seen the might of the sea!"

"That's it, soup-time, crabby!"

Danny dove after Alabastor, chasing him face first into a temporal portal and right into the sea.

"BEHOLD!" Alabastor rumbled, claws raised and sea churning around him. Danny flew at him, noticing the screaming people below. He quickly raised a dome of clear ice to protect their entire city before returning his attention back to the giant crustacean. The distraction cost him, as Alabastor blasted him with a beam of his power. "THE MIGHT OF THE SEA!"

"SOUP!" Danny bellowed back, Alabastor's power forcing him into a giant crab form, aside from, hilariously, his head. Danny, always quick to adapt, slammed a massive claw straight into one of Alabastor's eyes and popped open the Fenton Thermos with a feral grin. In but moments, Danny manages to soup Alabastor but not before slamming him down onto the unbreakable ice Danny had just made.

Carefully turning by skittering sideways, he unmelted his ice.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly to the gawking civilians below.

"Suh-ree? What is suh-ree?" A brave woman asked.

"Oh," Danny uttered as he realized that he should probably switch languages. His giant crab body and small itty bitty human head swayed in an unsure motion. "Sorry means "my apologies." I had not meant to involve you. I am Phantom."

"It is alright... thank you for protecting us... God Phantom?"

He grimaced. "Not a god."

"King, then." She stepped forward. "May I ask of the ice?"

——

Spoiler, sensing weakness like the Riddler to a riddle, leaned in. "Did you know they have a traditional dance to honor the god that gave them the unbreakable ice that protects Atlantis to this day? It goes like this," Spoiler stepped back and did the dance, complete with exaggerated arm movements and, embarrassingly, the scuttle walk Crab!Danny was forced to learn with his new crab form.

"We shall never speak of this again," Danny huffed.

"But King Phantom, the God of Eternal Ice and Protection, how could we not celebrate your iciness?" Spoiler simpered, Black Bat not too far away and shaking with laughter. The purple donning vigilante did the scuttle dance once more, picking up bottles as she went a small circle around one of Bludhaven's rock beaches.

Danny scowled and plucked the tablet away from her, hair flowing an a more agitated direction. His jumpsuit burned brighter. "Why are you two menaces in Bludhaven? I thought your territory was in Gotham."

"Nightwing asked for back up and we were in the area." Spoiler, blessedly, stopped the walk to answer him. "By the way, are you and Danny dating?"

"Pardon?" He asked, insulted but highly amused.

"Oh, you know, he has your number, and you only ever talk to him outside of us, and how you guys have a high level of communication." Spoiler said leadingly.

Oh, Danny knew what this was about now. He found out their identities and now these two are interrogating him because he liked them best. They thought they were so clever. Well, they clearly haven't gotten to know Danny at all if they thought he was going to make good decisions.

Danny tilted his head, making sure his face gets as eerie as possible, shadows elongating and eyes burning just that much brighter. The neon green of his face shone even brighter against the suddenly dark landscape of the place. Black Bat stood up, laughter seizing immediately. Spoiler tensed.

"I have a riddle for you. You are good at those, are you not?"

Spoiler blinked but gamely said, "Bring it."

"What do these things have in common? An arguing couple, papers on a stranger's desk, and Star City's robbers."

"..." Spoiler slipped into her solving mode. "Stolen goods. Stolen hearts?" She guessed.

"No. The answer is that they're all none of your business," Danny snarled. His form flickered. "Keep your questing away from Danny- Daniel, vigilante. Your duty is to protect your city and help her," Danny swept an arm out. "Stick to that instead of inserting yourself into places you are not wanted."

Then, with a toss of an ecto-crossed recorder that held the verbal report he'd promised Nightwing towards Black Bat, Danny blinked out of the visible spectrum and flew above the two.

"... Shit, I think I pissed him off."

Black Bat nodded. "He was defensive."

"Yeah... did you hear that slip? Oh, they are so dating."

Danny grinned. He couldn't wait for Tim to interrogate him soon.

——

"You're kidding."

Danny shook his head, maniacal grin still on his face hours later. He'd taken the liberty to call his best friends before classes started for the day.

Tucker groaned. "Danny, I can't believe you're messing with Batman. Why are you like this."

"Look, I need your help."

"Oh no, keep me out of your dumbass plans, Fenton," Sam pointed at him through the screen, immaculately painted black nails threatening.

"Okay, if you go along with my plan, I'll give you Dr. Isley's number."

"Deal," Sam said immediately, changing her tune at a drop of a hat. Or, at a drop of a number.

"What about me?" Tucker asked, offended. "I deserve compensation for my work too, dammit!"

"I'll give you Tim Drake's number and persuade him to let you have a crack at Wayne Industry's tech basement."

"Deal, what are we doing?"

Danny's grin spread even wider. "We're dating. And, you two? You're Phantom's exes. Tucker, you say good stuff about me. Sam? You make up terrible things about me. But we're all dating each other and I'm dating Phantom on the side."

"I hate you," Sam deadpanned. "But fine, it's not that hard. I've got tons of embarrassing stories about Phantom. You better get me that number, Danny, because you know Dr. Isley was my gay awakening."

"For Tim Drake, I'd be willing to puff up your ego." Tucker said solemnly.

"Perfect. I'm cleaning his brother of ectoplasm today. so expect a call later! Love you guys!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, boyfriend." Sam clicked off the call.

"Think Tim Drake would be interested in a date?" Tucker asked Danny.

"Nah, I think he's got his heart on Benard."

"Damn," Tucker sighed. "Guess I'll have to mend my broken heart with the tools of a state-of-the-art lab, right, Danny?"

"Yep, see ya!" Danny hung up. Today was going to be a good day.

[jellyfishsthings]

The five times you left Spencer speechless (or how I like to call it, in quiet awe)

Warnings: reader wears glasses but no biggie, reader can fight and use a gun because why not, bau!reader, smitten Spence, nothing happens just feelz, Spence's drug addiction... I think that it

1. The first meeting

It had been a long week. People were crowding the small space of the bullpen. It had been the first case after Gideon's return, and Spencer had been buzzing with excitement to work with his mentor again. The case hadn't been particularly easy, and almost one agent named Elle Greenaway had been lightly injured, who would from now on work with them. His eyes were burning, and he gave into the temptation to wear his glasses as he looked into the nearly filled report in front of him, containing at least seventeen pages worth of information. Madame Strauss claimed that his reports were unnecessarily detailed, how that was a problem he couldn't tell. The hours seemed to blur together as he continued writing his report, losing many minutes trying to form his handwriting into something more presentable.

That was the moment. The time he first laid eyes on her. He had read many romance novels, which he wasn't going to admit, that the moment someone met the one time seemed to slow to near non-existent and his reality at the moment seemed like something coming out of a book.

She was wearing a chunky white pullover with huge sleeves that strangely represented bells and a light brown plaited skirt that reached just at the middle of her thighs. Long legs that seemed to be going on for miles ended at a pair of black Mary Jane's. And sure, her appearance was incredible, but that was not what made him make a double take. He was sure he was hallucinating as he saw the most beautiful face he had seen in his life, looking as if it was something that came out of a Renaissance painting. Her hair was in a braid resting on her shoulder, and wire-framed glasses sat on her nose, making her eyes appear slightly bigger. A tattered pair of wired headphones framed her face, and for a second, Spencer forgot how to breathe, the most cognitive function, the one he had been able to do since he first entered this world. His ears were buzzing, and his brain was running in endless circles.

A hand was moving in front of him, and he stared at the angel that was standing in front of him. Her mouth was moving, probably talking to him, and he willed himself to pay attention.

“S-Sorry.”

“It's alright.” The angel answered him; maybe he had finally overdone it with the sugared coffee he was drinking as if it were his primary source of hydration. “ I am looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

“R-Right. Umm…”

“Good, you are here. Come with me.” Hotch's voice echoed in the empty room, and Spencer's cheeks flamed an angry red as the girl turned and kindly waved at him as she quickly climbed the stairs and entered the conference room. Spencer had half a mind not to turn his chair and stare at her. With an unnecessary loud cough, he turned back at his report and thanked his luck for Morgan's absence because if he had witnessed this, he was going to hear the end of this anytime

2. The lesson

A month had passed since he first saw her. And yet, he could recall her vividly, the deep-set eyes, the rosy lips. His birthday had been a blur as he celebrated them in the office and invited JJ in a lame attempt to ask her out which just resulted in a long evening where JJ and Penelope talked endlessly and he could comprehend the sport he was supposedly watching.

He was waiting in Hotch's office as a stand-in. He was teaching a young agent to join the unit and he was thrilled when he heard that the student was just a few months shy of his own age. At the moment, he was trying to move a huge board to the office when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around way too fast and came face to face with the angel he saw, the one he thought he willed into existence.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, no. I got it. Are you Hotch's student?” Ge asked and immediately regretted it. Of course, she was his student. Why did he have to lose half of his IQ around her? He gave one last hard shove to the board end and then aligned it with the desk. “So um… Hotch asked me to be your tutor for today if that is alright with you. Um… What material are you studying?”

“Mostly psychology. Which I am not very good at, by the way.” She retrieved a huge book from her bag and a small pencil case that was filled with just a pen and three markers, red, yellow, and green. Just as she opened the book, he could see that its majority was colored and that it had notes in the margins. His heart thudded louder in his chest.

“What do all those colors mean?” He asked curiously as he approached her.

“Well green means that I understand it; yellow means that I am working on it and red … I just have no clue. It's just mostly yellow at the moment, though the notes help.”

“What's red?” She looked at him in a strange way, and too late did he realize that she was studying him, his question had been earnest and probably too forward, and he rushed to explain himself. “ I just - I asked because I have a PhD in the subject.” He could see her eyebrows lifting before they settled in a scowl and whacked his brain to understand what he said wrong.

“You are Doctor Reid, right?” She asked quietly, and he stupidly nodded as an answer to her question. “Well there is … I don't understand some differences between some categories of killers; they have much in common, so why are they in a separate category?”

“The answer is actually way simpler I'd you think of it in a Venn diagram.” He rushed to the board, and drew a few circles, and he started writing on it as he explained its category separately. He talked for what seemed like hours, and he embarrassingly looked at his watch. He must have been talking for over an hour, and he turned to look at the girl only to find her writing on her book, still in the margins looking at him expectantly. The way she was staring at him almost had him stammering once again, and he felt his knees weaken for a strange reason. So he carried on.

When he was done, he turned to look at her; she was still writing something before she whispered. “You need to tuck your chest in when you are firing a gun.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Aaron said that he was having trouble with one of his agents' firearm training, and it must be you. You have a long torso, so your weight center is different from the diagrams in the training books you must have read. That's why you keep missing.” And just like that, she was gone again wishing him good night and a nice weekend.

His head was spinning as he walked towards the training room, and he wore his earmuffs and protective glasses. Tuck your chest in. And so he did before aiming and pressing the trigger three times. His shots were the best, but he hadn't missed. Pride swarmed his chest; he was going to do it.

The next day, he failed his exam. He had lost his gun.

3. The first case

Small-town cases were always the most thrilling in his humble opinion. And any time somehow a cult or demons were involved, he worked ten times harder to prove them wrong. Only this time, their team had a new member. Gideon did seem to take a liking to her, in contrast with Spencer, who was incredibly warm to her the moment she entered the room. Maybe it was because he had met her before, or maybe it was because whenever she was around him. Somehow, his conversation with Morgan had turned to the explanation of attraction in the neurotic sector.

“Chemicals, such as dopamine, may cause one to be giddy, euphoric, and even to experience suppressed hunger and sleep cues. You may recall a time when someone made your heart thud erratically in your chest, heat rise in your body making you blush, and the sensation of being tongue-tied or not able to form coherent thoughts. These are the characteristics of attraction.”

“Is that what you feel around her then? Because you don't act like yourself around her. I mean, come on, you are a germaphobe, and you were the first to shake her hand.”

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he did shake her hand. She surprised him too quickly to think beyond taking her hand, letting it happen. Their formal meeting, the one where they acted as if they hadn't spent an evening together in this same room. Hotch gave him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite, and he was definitely on to him. In the duration of the case, he tried to keep his distance, which didn't go that well when he found himself staring at the barrel of a gun that was aimed at him. Everything went by too quickly as she dove toward the UnSub, without a second thought tackling him to the ground and disarming him in a few short seconds. He wanted to be impressed, yet he had seen her in the training room with Morgan as they had hand-to-hand combat. She moved with agility, and her every move seemed calculated and strategic. He had felt his heart stutter in his chest as she helped him stand and checked him for injuries.

He was lovestruck as Penelope teased him. His silly crush on JJ had been entirely forgotten.

4. The Lila Archer incident

He was an idiot. It was the first time he would characterize himself in such a way. And hopefully the last.

When you guard a beautiful actress, Spencer, don't jump in the pool with her.

Love,

Spencer

He could identify the disappointment in his colleagues' faces from the very first second, yet the one that pierced him the most was hers. She barely spoke during the discussions about the possible type of the UnSub, no matter how much Elle or Hotch urged her on. She had been stuck with him for pretty much all of the cases and he had to admit that she was a brilliant young woman. The others interpreted her quietness as an inability to profile but her insights were what had helped him make some major breakthroughs on the last cases. When they congratulated him for that he simply smiled stating that he didn't work alone yet the others probably thought that he was just trying to cover his partner and not share mutual credit for their work. It unnerved him how she seemed incredibly distant and stoic always five paces away from the rest of the team.

Yet this time she seemed furious, it was the deathly kind of quiet, the one that sent a chill to his bones and left all the apologies that were spewing up in his brain die on his tongue.

Frustration was welling up on him and he tried to muster up the courage to talk to her, only to find her crying in Morgan's arms. He couldn't understand for the life of him what she was saying and a selfish, terrible part of him hoped that, maybe, she had been crying for him.

5. The drug addiction

Tobias Hankel was going to be a name that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sometimes deep into the night he was still at that cabin fighting for his life, the one time his intelligence wasn't enough. What drew him to steal those few bottles of Dilaud from his pocket, why he used them, why he formed his addiction. He didn't want to be a drug addict but it was his new reality. He desperately tried to stop it, tried to hide it and always felt ashamed when he relapsed to that horrible habit. He would sit in his bathroom sweating, crying and begging a higher force, a higher being to end his torment, despite never being a religious man, only for his phone to ring demanding his presence because of a new case and for him to fall back to his old routine.

It was a tough journey and he wanted to talk with his friends about that, he needed their help, yet they ignored his problem as if it didn't exist, even though the signs were clear. He was always lashing out, having terrible mood swings and when they tried to confort him about it he lashed out. He had met an old friend of his and he had been the only one he had been brutally honest about his … condition. Gideon knew, his mentor knew, he had the confirmation, yet he turned a blind eye to the situation. Everyone did, except from her.

Everyday she would bring him his extra sweet coffee filled to the brim with stevia and not sugar, because sugar was just as addictive. When he craved, he played with his fingers, tried to distract himself but to no avail, a long strip of hard licorice sweets would appear in front of his face, after research be learned that the flavourful of licorice was extremely distinctive and strong and its hard texture led a person to chew endlessly at just one piece. It was the best food to consume to distract yourself. Every night after a case she would show up at his place with Greek takeout, which was apparently the best cousine, and demand longtime marathons of a show or series of movies, which wasn't something unusual for the two of them. She visited him because she knew that he would never use in her vicinity. He had never known true love until that moment and he recalled a quote by Jane Austin.

To be loved is to be known.

words: 3.007

[chlorinecake]

﴾ This Is How Much IDGAF — 𝐇.𝐇𝐉 ׅ ㅤ֢ ㅤׄㅤ

▹PAIRING: Possessive Boyfriend Hyunjin x F. Reader

▹ GENRE: ⚠︎ Smut, Model / Idol Au, Angst, Fluff

── 𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ܃ While at a prestigious fashion event with your boyfriend, you two made your public debut as a celebrity couple. However, after Hyunjin caught sight of you mingling with a flirtatious stranger, he was determined to remind you who you belonged to before the night was out...

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, foul language, kissing, jealous!hyunjin lol, degrading kink, face slapping, oral (m. receiving), orgasm denial, spit kink, S&M, some spanking, rough unprotected sex, hair pulling

▹ 𝐖ORD 𝐂OUNT ⨾ 4074 ࿐Day 11

AS HYUNJIN'S GIRLFRIEND, you had always felt comfortable stepping into the limelight that often surrounded him, even when his fame far surpassed yours.

It never bothered you that he was the center of attention at events like these, and in fact, you genuinely preferred blending into the crowd at times...

It’s actually how you first met each other.

You were relatively new in the modeling world, and Hyunjin was an A-lister. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes when he approached you, asking for your name and if you knew where the drink bar was.

Since then, you two are both a happy couple now, and with that, Hyunjin wanted to make tonight special for you; he planned to publicly announce your relationship and the idea of stepping out as a couple made your palms sweat with anticipation.

Hyunjin stood in front of the mirror while adjusting his necktie; it was something he did all the time on his own, but today, the task was proving to be much more difficult than usual.

You were busy retouching your makeup when you caught on to his little sighs of frustration, and immediately, putting your makeup brush down, you replaced his anxious fingers with your own, adjusting the tie flaps for him with meticulous precision.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin said with a soft smile, but you could tell it was a forced one given the tension in his eyebrows.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you returned, giving the tie a few more tugs until it was just right, “I’ve never seen you this nervous before…”

He chuckled at your words as you took a step back to check him out, the sleek black suit he wore hugging his figure perfectly with every line accentuating his modelesque figure.

“Me neither,” he replied, in between applying some final touches of his cologne, “I just don’t know what to expect from tonight…”

“Then don’t expect anything at all,” you whispered, gently squeezing his bicep through his suit, “you’re gonna do great, alright?”

His tender gaze flickered from your face and back to the mirror as he took in the reflection of you two standing beside each other, and you looked absolutely stunning together.

Hyunjin could almost see all the adoring headlines and flashing lights in the back of his mind already, making his heart flutter with pride.

“Alright,” he repeated, and much more confidently this time, snagging off his necktie single-handedly as the extra fabric was only making it harder for him to relax and he looked much hotter without it anyway.

Hooking your hand in his, the two of you exchanged a brief kiss, waltzing out of the dressing room and beyond excited to have attended the fashion event.

Stepping out of the sleek limousine, you and Hyunjin soon arrived at the venue, and the atmosphere was electric.

Famous faces mingled in designer attire, and fashion elitists swarmed around the gleaming runway, champagne glasses glad in hand.

Admittedly, the scene was pretentiously grandiose, from the red carpet outside to the elaborate decor inside the atmosphere was made even more dynamic thanks to the electric dance music playing.

It was a bit overwhelming when people started to approach the two of you because as mentioned previously, you both were accredited to your own standard of fame; you had your past and future fashion representatives tugging at your attention while Hyunjin interacted with fellow models from his circle as well.

You both radiated joy, your smiles bright and infectious, as grace and charm seemed to flow from you like a warm glow. With your arms intertwined, you were resolute in your commitment to remain side by side all evening.

And ironically so, as almost every conversation, including the harsh barking from photographers, led to the same, faithful, question: “Are you two together?”

As brief as it was, the question meant the world to you.

The warmth of adoration that surrounded you two tonight was undeniable, and it melted your heart to see how confident he was.

Scanning the room, it seemed like everyone’s eyes were on you two now, so it was like you had no other choice but to split up to take the attention off yourselves.

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby,” Hyunjin whispered while kissing the temple of your head, “don’t go too far, now…”

“I won’t,” you smiled, letting go of his hand before eventually finding yourself by the drink bar, chatting it up with someacquaintances and familiar faces.

You remember running into Momo, who actually worked at the same company as your boyfriend, and she congratulated you on coming public about your relationship.

“That takes a lot of courage to do in this industry, and I couldn’t be happier for you and Hyunjin,” she hummed before eventually walking away, leaving you to yourself again.

After a while, Hyunjin still hadn’t come to find you yet…

That’s when a certain partygoer made his way over to you, a glint of mischief dangling in his eyes as he winked, making your face heat up as you didn’t know how to respond to such behavior.

He had been noticeably eyeing since you and Hyunjin parted ways, and before you knew it, he was already making small talk with you.

“Nice dress,” he began in a voice smoother than the champagne bubbling over in everyone’s glasses. “And is that a Versace necklace? It looks stunning on your complexion.”

He reached out his hand to examine the chain up close now, and you internally shivered at the feeling of his cold fingers grazing your chest.

“Thank you,” you returned shyly, “my boyfriend’s actually an ambassador for Versace… this is a custom-made piece…”

The man gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying the whole ‘boyfriend name drop’ trick at all, so he continued.

“I suppose that makes you a very lucky girl then,” he smirked before finally letting go of your necklace, “is that ring from him, too?”

His confidence was off-putting, but you brushed the annoyance aside, thinking it was harmless banter, “Yeah, it’s a promise ring…”

“Oh, I know what it is,” he chuckled sarcastically while licking his lips, “Though, I can’t say you’re fortunate anymore if Mr. Versace doesn’t even let you touch him—”

“It’s a symbol of our loyalty,” you corrected him as sternly as you could.

And giving him the benefit of the doubt, you assumed that the champagne had something to do with this man’s inappropriate boldness.

“My apologies, darling,” he said more quietly this time, “I didn’t mean to offend you, that’s just my sense of humor…”

“It’s alright, no offense taken,” you replied, not meeting his face now as his sharp features were only magnified under the venue lighting…

The two of you exchanged a few more words before you felt a sharp grip on your arm, one that was masked by a forced smile of pleasantness.

It was Hyunjin, who unbeknownst to you, had watched the entire exchange… his previously tender expression shifted as he caught sight of the guy leaning in too closely, laughing too loudly, and getting too touchy.

You felt a sudden tension in the air; the warmth of the event seemed to drain away now that Hyunjin was by your side again.

“Hey,” Hyunjin started, and the typically playful tone of his voice was replaced by a steely edge. You could see the anger flaring behind his dark eyes, making your stomach flutter at the way his jaw visibly tightened as he spoke, “I think you should leave.”

And with this, the stranger only smirked, perhaps not taking your boyfriend seriously, but that only fueled Hyunjin's possessiveness even more.

“Look man, we were only talking—”

“Well did she tell you she was spoken for?… Huh?” Hyunjin asked, his protective and jealous grip on you growing tighter.

“I mean, she might’ve mentioned it, but with looks like hers, you can’t blame a guy for not caring, right?”

Hyunjin scoffed, and you felt your heartbeat increase with each passing second.

Before you could even process all that was happening, your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him just to make it undeniably clear who you belonged to.

“Come on, babe,” he said with a forced smile, dragging you away from the unwelcome attention, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet…”

Of course, that was a lie, but he only said it because he didn’t want the creepy guy trying to follow you two…

You kind of wished you knew the strange man’s name now, but it wouldn’t make a difference to Hyunjin anyway; he was already pissed at you… pissed that you just stood there and let that guy disrespect your relationship like that, and pissed that you didn’t walk away and just stood there, soaking up all his bullshit…

The rest of the night played out like a dance that lacked harmony; Hyunjin's smile never wavered from his face, just as his grip never wavered from your hand.

A throng of people already began to disperse out and about the main floor, though Hyunjin didn't even bother waiting for everyone to leave.

Walking past the elevator, he steered you towards the stairs, his eyes ridden with determination as he led you to a secluded area in the building.

The space oddly mimicked a kitchen given the steel accents and tile flooring…

You knew what was coming, and a strange mix of dread and exhilaration filled you as Hyunjin’s playful façade vanished completely.

“What the hell was that ____?” Hyunjin hissed without hesitation, voice low but intense as he took off his jacket and tossed it aside, already feeling too hot with his rage.

“I thought you knew better than to entertain guys like that… God, I… I brought you here to support me, ____…. to celebrate us… not so you could run off and flirt with strangers—”

“You know damn well I wasn’t flirting with him, Hyunjin,” you protested through a shaky voice, finally meeting his eyes, “I would never do something like that to you…”

Hyunjin’s expression softened slightly, but the tension remained as bold as ever.

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you allowed it, ____,” Hyunjin returned, and you felt your spirit break all overagain.

“What do you mean I allowed it—what was I supposed to do, Hyunjin?… Scream like a damsel in distress while you were chatting it up with elite designers?” You raised your voice at him, and your use of sarcasm only provoked him further.

Pressing you against the wall, you felt your heart skip a bit at the anger radiating off of him now, and if he wasn’t so handsome, he’d likely look like a raging bull at this moment.

“I don’t want anyone thinking they have a chance with you, ____… I’m not just yelling at you for fun,” he scorned, only to take his free hand and hold your face in place.

You felt so ashamed at this moment, so confused; it was never your intention to encourage the stranger to behave in such a way, and you’d say Hyunjin was getting way too worked up over a simple interaction—

“Get out of your head slut, I’m still talking to you,” Hyunjin went on, keeping your body fused against the wall, “What were you just thinking about, anyways, huh?…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, and it had everything to do with the tears forming in your eyes now; Hyunjin had never called you such a thing—

“Oh, so you’re the kind of slut that cries instead of talking now?” He continued to degrade you, “because you sure had a lot to say when that guy had his hands on you…”

You shook your head at his words, not even bothering to hide your tears anymore as a few slid down your face anyway.

“Aww… What is it, dolly… hm? Do I have to touch you to get you to talk for me?” He whispered condescendingly, only to tighten his grip on your face and force a weak whimper out of you…

“H-Hyunjin—“ you stuttered while lifting your arm to remove his painful grip from your face, but he instead found your hand in his own, pinning your wrist to the wall.

“You don’t get to touch me right now,” he slithered impossibly close to your face now, and his voice went straight to your core, lingering there long enough for you to feel yourself pulse slightly.

It was embarrassing, honestly… the fact that you were getting turned on by the cruelty in his words…

Hyunjin looked down for a second, letting out an attractive sigh to exhale some of his nerves.

Your emotions were still spiraling inside you, and despite how the look in his eyes should’ve intimidated you, it only turned you on even more, and in all honesty, he was feeling the same way himself.

The only reason he looked back up so suddenly was because he caught sight of the way you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together for leverage, and he felt himself getting harder by the minute.

“Why’d you just stand there, love?… knowing I’d get upset like this…” Hyunjin whispered, voice hoarse as he looked at you with his piercing gaze, “Unless you wanted to make me mad… is that what happened?”

He honestly had rendered you speechless; you had no clue what he wanted to hear right now, and it didn’t help that your brain kept dozing off, failing to focus on anything but the thought of him fucking you—

“Hyunjin!” You gasped, feeling a wad of his spit decorate your face now.

“That’s how dumb sluts are treated,” he said, and it was clear that his patience had reached its limit on tolerating your bullshit. “And since you don’t have anything to say other than my name, I’ll just have to find a new use for your mouth.”

Letting your wrist free and removing his grip from your face, his hands find your shoulders, shoving you down to the ground knees-first before promptly undoing his pants, and he can feel your weak eyes watching his every move now…

His dick is quick to come out, too, eager and erect as one of his hands finds your scalp, angling your head upward to face him.

“Suck it,” he commands, and your lips hesitantly but surely invite his cock into the warmth of your mouth, and he visibly bites back a groan at the feeling.

Needing something to brace on, your hands find his thighs, but he swats them away, staying firm on his rule that you don’t get to touch him.

Your first instinct was to use your hands to help you take his length, too, but you knew better than to give that a try.

Opening your throat the best you could, you bobbed your head against his shaft at a medium pace, making sure you tightened your lips around the base just how he liked it.

But by now, it was getting much harder for him to seem unfazed as tiny groans of pleasure started to slip past his mouth the more and more you sucked, genuinely enjoying the taste of him.

Hyunjin was embarrassingly close to finishing, cursing under his breath while guiding your head to move a little slower, as you had only been sucking for a few minutes.

That’s when suddenly, he shoved your head down as far as your throat could go before you started gagging.

“Such a pathetic cock whore,” he spat, feeling himself twitch at the sight of foggy eyeliner staining your face now.

Pulling out of your mouth, a dense string of precum kept you together until he told you to stand up for him.

You were completely drunk on lust right now, and that was all without having a single swig of alcohol in your system.

Hyunjin’s hands found your waist, and you were promptly laid on the countertop, back-first.

The metal surface was cold against your skin, making your whole body shiver before your boyfriend eventually grabbed your thighs, roughly angling them so he could have perfect access to your cunt.

Leaning down, he was gracious enough to find your lips in a kiss, even though affection from him was one of the last things he felt you deserved right now.

“So wet already,” he murmured against your mouth, reaching down a hand to glide his digits over your folds, and you felt your abdomen tighten every time one of his silver rings grazed your sensitive sex, “Did that guy turn you on, or is it just me?”

“Ahh~” You moaned suddenly, and only because he slapped your cunt the moment you tried putting your hands in his hair for leverage.

He knew how much you loved his hair, and just touching him in general; not allowing you to have such access to him was doing exactly what he intended it to do…

“You know I only get this way for you, Hyun,” you whined beneath him, and he raised his eyebrows, surprised you had anything to say at all given your pathetic silence thus far.

However, his stoic expression soon returned as he brushed off your words, determined to teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget.

Hyunjin lined himself up with your eager hole, preventing any other thoughts from crossing your mind as he buried himself deep inside you, stretching your walls out inch by inch.

“Here’s something you can think about the next time another guy flirts with you,” he groaned at the tightness, and you swear a part of your heart crumbled at the fiery look on his face.

After the first few snaps of his hips, Hyunjin had your voice echoing off the walls, thighs trembling at the sides of his waist as he pounded into you at a pace you weren’t expecting so soon.

“That’s it, slut… let everyone hear how I make you mine,” he whispered, leaning back down to leave a trail of sloppy, hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, the both of you humming at sensation.

“Fuck~” you cried out with your eyes sealed shut, getting lost in the rhythm of your body rocking up and down against the countertop.

Your tits shook with the movements, and his pelvis never felt so good while grinding against your burning clit.

“You like it rough, don't you, baby?” Your boyfriend grunted, his voice strained with desire and effort.

Your hands went to find his shoulders for balance, but he had them pinned to the countertop in a matter of no time, snickering to himself at the frustration brewing on your features.

“Aww, don’t tell me you thought I’d move on that easily,” he smirked, only to hiss the moment you very intentionally clenched your walls around him.

“Please,” you begged, and you’re not sure what for, but Hyunjin obliged anyway, pounding into you with an increasing force with his balls slapping against your ass with each deep thrust.

The sound of your flesh slapping together filled your ears now, accompanied by shaky pleas and needy moans.

“God,” he panted desperately, releasing your wrists so he grip your thighs again, spreading you wider as he continued to punish your pussy.

Leaning down, Hyunjin’s mouth captured one of your erect nipples through the thin fabric of your dress, sucking and nibbling on it gently to send shocks of pleasure throughout your sweaty body.

“You’re mine, ____… all fucking mine,” he whispered through slurred words, and his voice was so low that you felt it in your knees.

You were getting close to the edge already as your body coiled tighter with each hit of his hips, but from experience, you could Hyunjin was even closer.

His mouth was right below your ear now as you struggled to keep your hands off of him, and with one more faithful attempt, you let your fingers get lost in his scalp, but this time, he didn’t reject your touch.

With gentle eyes, your boyfriend lifted his weight off of you, holding your face in place while finding your lips in yet another passionate kiss.

And was with that alone that your walls shattered around him, clenching and milking his cock as his entire body quivered at the powerful orgasm washing over him.

The metal countertop no longer seemed cold as his warm cum splashed inside you, his muscular body tensing slightly as adorably throaty groans slipped past his swollen lips.

“Hyunjin,” your voice came out quietly and breathy as his hips suddenly stopped moving, and when his dark eyes peered into your weak ones, you knew your misery wasn’t over quite yet.

“Oh, don’t even start,” he began, slipping out of your cunt with a foul wet sound, and your core almost cried at the sudden emptiness, “You’re lucky you even got that much…”

As badly as your inner being wanted to curse him out for chasing his orgasm only to deny you of a release, you decided it was best to simply sulk and accept it.

Sliding off the counter, Hyunjin helped you out by wiping the evidence of arousal and intimacy from between your legs before readjusting your clothes for you…

It was an interesting form of déjà vu as you thought back to a few hours prior when you helped him fasten his tie back.

Giving him a playful look, your fingers found the side of your dress as you gently tugged, alluding to the way he tossed his tie away earlier.

“I can’t believe you’re still trying to be bad after everything I just did to you” he chuckled, playfully swatting your hand away. His laughter, although brief, was contagious, and you couldn't help but giggle yourself now as you leaned against his shoulder given the way your legs started to tingle from falling asleep. 

The warmth of his body was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety in his presence once he secured a protective hand at your waist.

Hyunjin was sure to grab his jacket in his free hand as well, the fabric draping over your shoulders like a shield against the cool evening air as you both made your way back to the main venue.

The photographers were too busy capturing shots of the models strutting down the runway to notice you two slipping in, and thankfully so since neither of you looked as put together as you did half an hour ago with your hair slightly tousled and his shirt wrinkled from the prior fit of sexual tension.

You and Hyunjin managed to snag some seats in the back that were nestled under the soft, ambient lighting, casting a subtle glow around you. 

Slender silhouettes of models glided before your eyes with their outfits appearing as blurs of color and fabric... though,your focus was entirely on the man beside you.

Leaning closer to him, you rested your head on his shoulder, sighing at the comforting scent of his cologne as a shy smirk danced on his lips.

“Are you okay, love?.... I mean... was I maybe too harsh earlier?” A now much calmer Hyunjin inquired through a whisper, voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of genuine concern in his eyes, “You looked like you were on the verge of passing out, honestly...”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at his words, nudging him with your elbow; “I did not! I was just… enjoying the moment,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. 

“Enjoying the moment, huh?” He repeated playfully, raising an eyebrow at your demeanor, “Is that what you call it when you can hardly stand up on your own without even finishing?” 

You laughed, the sound light and airy, and it felt good to let go of the tension from before. “Okay, maybe you were a little over the top, I'll admit--”

“Baby, why didn't you tell me?!”

“But,” you went on to continue, dragging out the word to get his attention again, “I still enjoyed every last second of it...”

He fell quiet at your words as yet another shy smile tugged at his lips, revealing his adorable dimples, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you recited, tugging the swell of his bicep even tighter now as both your eyes turned back to the stage, making sure to stay close to each other for the rest of the night.

✎𓂃 Thanks for reading DAY 11's fic entry for my 2024 Kinktober Event !! Once again, I'm a bit late to posting this, but nonetheless, if you're interested, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here !!

♱ PERM TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy (miss you), @wonbinisbabygurl @watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

♱ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs @mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij @yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess @zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier @idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408 @crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg @d-dilemma @mrsjohnnysuh

[monzamash]

still tasting you lando norris x you (older piastri sister) rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) requested by @sublimebarbie for monzamusings ✨

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

Lando's voice was hushed and close, barely audible over the loud music but you heard him; you heard the suggestion in his tone - eyes dark when you peered into them, scorching through your soul. 

The room was a blur – bodies everywhere, EDM vibrating through the floor and syphoning up the ceiling, making your head spin. The shots on the way in didn’t help your sense of direction, the tequila tasting bitter on the tip of your tongue as you followed your brother; a chain of McLaren employees all fighting their way through the dense crowd. It was loud, raised voices trying to figure out where we were being dragged. Truthfully, it was almost too much. 

Until you saw him. His navy button down shirt stuck to his tanned skin, black thick-rimmed sunglasses shielding his bloodshot eyes, bright toothy smile reflecting the flashing lights. He was the embodiment of ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ with his arm raised in the air, singing along to a remix of No Diggity. Carefree, giving zero fucks until he saw you. 

To the outside looking in, you two were friendly - he was your younger brother's teammate, after all. But in the shadows, there were unspeakable acts of pleasure occurring that had you both sworn to secrecy. Quick glances, ghosting touches, passionate make out sessions behind motorhomes and late night rendezvous in hotel rooms. It was the whole ‘sneaking around’ cliche and you loved it. 

Especially when he looked at you like that. 

Like you’d hung the stars in the sky, like there was nobody else in the room but you. He was ravenous and completely enamoured; rendered speechless every single time. 

Granted, you looked hot. Intentionally. You craved his undivided attention and you had it in spades. He’d slipped away from the DJ booth as soon as he saw you lining up for a drink - chatting away with his PR manager and pretending like you couldn't feel his searing presence behind you. 

“Hey guys,” Lando cooly greeted, smiling brighter than the sun.

“Hey hun, I'm ordering drinks - what do you want?” Sophie asked, waiting a beat for Lando’s answer and getting nothing in return, “Lando?”

“Huh?” he mumbled, tearing his gaze away from you to his media manager who was still waiting for his drink order, but now with a sly smirk on her face, “Couldn’t hear you over the music.” He tried to play it off and she simply hummed in agreement and turned back to the bartender.

“Smooth,” you whispered playfully, pulling him into a friendly side hug, “Congrats on the win… must feel amazing.” 

Lando nodded and ran his hands through his hair - you'd noticed he always did that when he was nervous. His cheeks would flush, eyes would dart to anywhere but yours and his fingers would find the frayed ends of his gorgeous curls. All tell tale signs that he was into you. 

“Yeah, it does…” he agreed, nodding and chewing the inside of his cheek, “Not as amazing as you look but still pretty good.”

He could turn it on when he wanted to. And it made you blush as your idle hands playfully swatted him away until you spotted your little brother strolling over to the two of you with a smile. 

“Hey mate,” Oscar greeted happily, patting his teammate on the shoulder, “Celebrating?”

“Absolutely,” Lando enthused and held up his vodka soda with a grin, “Is Lily here?”

“Yeah she’s talking to someone. Thought i’d just come over and make sure my sister wasn’t annoying you again,” he winked, knowing that you were the least annoying person he knew. 

So you rolled your eyes and started to walk away, “Rich coming from you, kid.”

Oscar simply laughed, none the wiser to your arrangement with his teammate, “Don’t have too much fun and remember which side of the garage you’re related to, yeah?” “Yeah, yeah.” you brushed him off and slyly grasped Lando’s wrist, dragging him off into the sea of sweaty bodies and debauchery. 

It didn’t take long for his hands to find a place on your swaying hips, entranced by the way they moved to the music reverberating through your chest. It was hot, in more ways than just the temperature rising in the room as capacity hit. Lando’s breath swept across the back of your neck as he leaned in, so close to pressing his lips to the soft spot between your ear and shoulder that gifted him with the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

It took every ounce of will power to save it for the bedroom. 

But he was fighting a losing battle. 

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

You couldn't stop the smirk tugging on the corners of your lips as his confession washed over you. So you spun around in his arms and leaned in a little closer than "friendly".

But you didn't care – you needed him.

“Then take me somewhere and do something about it.”

That’s all it took. Five little words had you pressed up against the wall of the lavish bathroom. The lighting was dim, nothing but a single sconce illuminating the copper walls and the gorgeous vanity you were perched upon. It was clumsy, all teeth as you kissed the man holding you up, legs sprawled and mewls slipping from your ruby lips. Tongue tied and breathless, all the things to make a quickie, a quickie. 

“So fucking tight,” Lando grumbled as he pumped two fingers into you, the dampened string of what resembled a pair of panties haphazardly pulled to the side.

“Need to fuck me good then, hey.” It was a taunt fuelled by carnal need and desire - Lando simple nodded and lazily nipped at the skin exposed on your neck. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

He was painfully hard, which made unzipping his ridiculously tight trousers even harder than usual. But he managed to do it without missing a beat, fingers still delving into the depths he craved to feel squeezing his aching dick. He’d thought about it all day, even had to have a cold shower because of how fucking obsessed he was with the way you felt around him, clenching like you were now around his thick digits. 

“We’ve gotta be quick so leave everything on,” you whispered with a devilish glint in your hungry eyes, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Lando wasn’t going to protest, in fact he loved the idea of having you like this - fully clothed with only your cute, black lacy panties pulled to the side for him to slide into. He couldn’t wait any longer. His trousers and pants were hastily shoved down just enough to free him, the slick coat of excitement cooled by the air and sending a chill down his spine. Until he removed his fingers and ran himself through your folds, eliciting the sound of an angel, heaven sent.

“We good?” he asked sweetly and you nodded with pleading eyes, sealing a layer of consent before nudging his tip into you. 

A chorus of moans harmonised between the two of you, pleasantly satisfied by the intimacy as he shuffled forward with a gentle huff. It felt too good to have him inside you, filling you up with a delicious fullness you constantly craved from him. It’s all you needed after a long day of yearning and discreetly glancing across the garages - all you could think about was this moment, where it was just you and him; so outrageously turned on that you couldn’t wait to get back to his hotel. Desperately devoted.

“Feels unbelievable, baby,” you praised in a breathy moan, head tilted back against the already steamed up mirror hanging behind you.

“Having you like this is a fucking dream,” Lando practically growled as he pulled down the top of your dress and kissed the tops of your breasts, “So beautiful.” 

Everything felt heightened as you relaxed against the vanity, fully trusting his tight grip and letting go of all inhibitions. That’s how you felt with Lando - walls down and no longer scared to feel it all with someone. And god, it felt good to purge all the pent up lust and aching to have him like this, panting and whispering filth into your ear; every word and jut surmounting to the knot in your stomach snapping to ribbons all at once. Your rushed words pathetically coming out in a whine.

“Lan… Baby I’m gonna- fuck, I’m so close.” 

“Shhh, I got you darling, come ‘f me…” he sweetly whispered, easing you over the edge as his fingers caressed the bundle of nerves between your thighs like precious cargo. 

You chanted his name over and over and over again, fingernails clutching his clothed back for leverage as you convulsed in pleasure, shockwaves hitting every nerve in your body as he spilled into you with an exasperated groan. He was beautiful, all flushed and fucked out as he pressed his forehead to yours, weary eyes locked in once again. 

“Some of our best yet, I reckon,” Lando whispered, his smirking lips ghosting yours. 

You chuckled and gave him a quick kiss as you slid down off the vanity, readjusting your panties to their usual position. There was a short beat before you glanced back up at him with a smile, fingertips instinctively tracing the angles of his sharp jaw. 

“Oh, we’re just getting started, baby.” 

a/n – something a bit different! i've always wanted to explore a lando x older piastri sister because well, this fic series exists and older reader stories just hit harder and are a lot easier for me to write. so let me know what you think!

click here for more writing...

[prael]

Perks

Kinktember Day 10: Mirror

Twice Mina x male reader smut

words: 4,108 Kinktember Masterlist

Do you ever look in the mirror and see someone who isn't you?

It was a simple question—if a rather loaded one.

"No," said Mina. "No, I don't think so. Not in a bad way, but maybe in disbelief of who I've become. Sometimes I expect to see the same person I was almost ten years ago. A simpler me. Maybe a more nervous and afraid version of me. That sort of thing."

"My therapist told me that was imposter syndrome," you said. "It's common, but it's pretty fucked up, the way we act like we're lying to ourselves."

"Have you thought of seeing her again?" Mina asked.

"God, that'd be awkward, don't you think?" you responded.

Mina paused, holding a glass midway to her mouth as if thinking, 'Between you and her or you and me?' Then she seemed to decide and smiled to herself, "Right."

Mina never erred into the intrusive or tactless. It's why you never have the impression that she is nosing around your life, because she gives you all the leeway to share only what you wish to share. And maybe that's why the both of you have lasted this long; in this arrangement, you found this unique level of trust, and you dare say it makes you damn good together.

"Our friend over there at the end of the bar looks like he can't take his eyes off you," you told her without looking up from your drink, not to draw attention. Mina chanced a discreet glance from the corner of her eye.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, "So? Feel threatened?"

You laughed into your drink before taking a mouthful of it, and then you told her, "I was about to get up, but you know that as soon as I do, he's going to come over."

"Of course, he will," Mina grinned into her own glass, then tipped her chin back to get at the last of it. "You go ahead to the room, I'll let him down gently." She patted at the front of your suit coat, above your breast pocket. It was a playful gesture. She had barely touched you all night until then.

"Early morning tomorrow, Mina, don't waste too much time now."

Mina smiled her "oh-shut-the-fuck-up" smile, before tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear and running her fingers through the thick long black strands. You smiled to yourself and signalled to the bartender.

It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still. Hotel bars had become a sort of ritual for you and Mina, you share a drink the day before you close a deal, half in premature celebration and half as a good luck charm.

And the thing is, Mina is a flirt. Through and through. Charm and wit. It works on clients, and it's an asset. The only problem is, it worked on you. It wasn't difficult to recognise your attraction for what it was, and she obviously took notice of it too. And you, well...

You're a professional, so you would never, ever let yourself act on it. This is why you returned to your room, alone, and why ten minutes later you heard the door open to her (conveniently joined) room. You're professionals, if you're going to fuck, at least you try to hide it.

The adjoining door opens. Oops, did you leave that unlocked? How silly of you.

"Sorry about the wait. Didn't want to seem rude, you know." She leans against the doorframe.

"How long after I left?"

"Barely a minute, he did the whole 'You-look-familiar' bit, so I humoured him..." Mina cocks a smile of arrogance. "For a minute. Before, you know... Letting him down gently."

"Did he go quietly, then?"

"He tried to ask me if I was sure I wanted to be alone." She shakes her head slowly as she saunters forward. "I was sure. Sure about coming up here and riding you senseless. Didn't tell him that, of course, just up and left. Anyway, for tomorrow, I was thinking—"

"Let's rewind to that part about riding me senseless, shall we?"

A playful smile takes to the corners of her mouth. "Let's."

You climb up from the bed, your shirt hangs loosely from your body, no tie at the neck and untucked from your trousers. "So, would you say it's going to be more of a—"

"If you are going to finish that with some terrible sex metaphor, I will kick your ass so hard." She kicks off her heels at the door. That long black dress she wore earlier is long gone, replaced by the lightest of sheer black chemises and a pair of little lacy black underwear.

"Kick my ass," you tell her, placing a hand on each of her hips. "Sure."

"Be quiet." She whispers it before she kisses you, deeply and softly. The sort of kiss that makes you forget yourself. Your arms circle her waist, and her arms rest on your shoulders. You savour it, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her tongue, the feeling of her hands trailing across the skin at the nape of your neck.

But in due time, that kiss breaks apart. Her hand trails down the front of your dress shirt, button by button, she has undressed you so many times now that the motion seems so familiar, and practised, but she still takes her time in doing it, as though with every undone button her anticipation is built upon.

You place your hand against the curve of her hip, thumbing gently, with feather-light touches along the black fabric, her small waist and wide hips, firm and round and so shapely in just her lingerie—your hands could have found no better resting place.

As you slip out of your shirt, Mina slips the delicate straps off her shoulders and the skimpy piece falls away from her body like petals around her feet. Mina is bare for you, save for her panties. Her tits might not be as big as her ass but your mouth still waters at the sight of them.

"Look at me." You love it when Mina demands that, love how she smiles with smug confidence when you have nothing to do but oblige her. Mina turns herself around, and your hands slide down, down the generous arch of her back and cups around her round, firm ass.

"Oh, come now," you can't help but tease her, "How very complacent of you, to think my eyes would look at nothing else but you. You know that I am a man of refined culture." You knead at the ample flesh in each palm, so soft. "I am very clearly an admirer of the finer things in life."

"How very romantic," she laughs, sliding down her underwear with a shimmy of her hips before placing her palms flat against the wall. "Go on then. Enjoy the art, like the cultured man you are."

There is something intoxicating about watching her there, propped against the wall, naked for you, your cock uncomfortable in your trousers. You unbuckle the clasp of the belt, then, in the pause, you approach, letting a single finger trace up the arch of her spine, leaning closer to her neck to whisper, "Not right here. Look over there, the mirror."

A floor-to-ceiling mirror, to be specific. She smiles a devilish little smirk. "And what of it?"

"Mina," you tell her, pressing the front of your trousers against the curves of her body, against the supple flesh of her ass. "I want to see all of you when we fuck. Every beautiful detail."

Mina purred, content. "Spoken like a poet..."

You land a solid and deliberate smack against that big ass of hers, and she lets out a groan. "Don't let it go to your head."

Mina let out an effectual moan, knowing fully how it tempts you. You roughly press your body against hers as she does it. Hooking both your arms around her naked form, you pull her to where you want her, right over to the mirror.

"That's it, take me like you want to." She presses her hand flat against the mirror, pushing back those delicious curves against your body once more. You force down your slacks and underwear until the cool air envelops you, at least until you push against her body once more. You cup both your hands at her full ass, slipping your stiffness between the cheeks and rocking back and forth. Mina is biting her bottom lip as she looks back at you in the mirror, and you look at nothing else but her deep dark eyes, her face framed by that long, dark, glorious hair.

"Your ass. This. This beautiful, beautiful thing of yours, drives men wild, drives me wild," you breathe out as she rocks herself back into your groping hands and your hard cock grinds between her cheeks, slow and methodic. "Drives me a little bit insane."

She deepens her bend, lowering her shoulders level to her ass, and her face presses against the glass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, peering over her shoulder, a shameless erotic, willing for you to take her in the most raw and depraved way. You can't deny the effect it has on you, and it has you raising your right arm, palm poised to land another satisfying spanking to her ass.

The crack rings out through the room, and she lets out a soft, sweet little, "Oh!"

You wrap a hand around her, over her stomach and down between her legs, reaching for her sweet, slick cunt, and find her soaked, wet with arousal. Wet for you.

"Fuck, you're so horny," you utter hoarsely. You drag your fingers through her juices as you drive your stiff cock over her tight asshole, so much teasing, maybe too much, perhaps too tortuous. You groan into the shell of her ear. "You get so wet for me. So wet. You need it so badly."

She moans, grinding back against you and circling her hips as if it could ease her pain. Half teasing, half goading, she says, "Maybe you should stop fucking playing around and do something about it."

She hisses when you drive your two slick fingers inside her without warning, pushing deeper in one smooth motion, as you mutter into the crook of her neck, "Impatient, aren't we, Mina?"

"Just fuck me."

In response, you slowly withdraw your fingers. She gasps against the mirror, the palm of her hand curling flat into a fist. Her words get you harder as she tries to wiggle her ass and spread herself, desperately trying to draw your dick to the slick pink centre of her sex for you. She doesn't care anymore what this does to your discipline, doesn't care at the prospect of you breaking, turning this into a savage, ravaging of her body; what matters only, at this very instant, is that she gets filled and fucked, fast and hard.

Finally, you give her that. Draw your cock out from between her cheeks, sliding the tip down between her legs, feeling the moisture that glistens on the swollen lips. You don't bother to strap up, or even ask, it's long since established that raw is how she likes it.

Slowly, you push forward. Mina sucks in a breath through her teeth. You know by the arch in the small of her back, the little trembles, that it is taking all her concentration and willpower not to throw her hips back, to force you to the hilt.

You bite the edge of her shoulder, and a shiver travels down Mina's entire body. You pull out, a little, before driving forward a little further.

"You feel..." you groan, your cock feeling like it was engulfed by satin. You sink a little further. "Fuck."

"Mhm, go on," her eyelashes flutter as you begin to take her, in this raw, animalistic way. "Tell me how it feels."

"Every time is like the first time," you continue, sliding in slow, then deeper, bit by bit, until you're all the way in and her big, round ass is pressing hard against your abdomen and her thick thighs against your legs. "You feel warm and slick and tight and wet, and oh, God..."

A sudden thrust forward as her greedy cunt squeezes the length of your shaft. A delicious whimper that sends blood to your head. A long, shaky groan slips from the both of your lips. You buck hard into her ass and watch as it ripples at the contact. "Ah! There, yes. Fuck," Mina moans.

There are two of her, perfect reflections, two Minas taking a rough pounding from behind. Each little expression on her face, each beautiful feature is visible in the reflection. And behind that her body ripples just like the one below you, and she whimpers, helpless as you penetrate her over and over.

"F-faster." She whines. "Harder. God, fuck, fuck me harder."

Mina has always liked it a little on the rough side, so you grab a handful of her hair, ball it in your fist, and pull. "Tell me, how does it feel?" You rear her head back so she has to look at herself in the reflection and tell it to herself. You pick up the pace, beginning to relentlessly pummel her from behind as you bury yourself into her tight heat as deep and hard as you can.

"So... Ah! So good." You yank her hair again, making her ass tense, making her gasp. She pants hard, short and fast as the force and strength of each thrust get stronger. "I love it when you... fuck me like this." Her chest begins to heave up and down. She raises her ass even higher for you. "When you—God, ah! Ah!—make me want to scream..."

You feel that incredible warmth building and swelling in your abdomen as her sex drips around your shaft, and it is so hard to slow yourself down when her ass slaps against you in perfect sync with your every motion, when Mina's knees shake, when her desperate moans urge you to never, ever stop. Still, you would like to do a little something before she orgasms all over your cock.

You roughly jerk out of Mina, pulling away abruptly with no warning.

"No, no! Don't stop!" She cries out immediately, her greedy body already missing yours. The flush at her neck spreading, blossoming down—her shoulders pink. "No!" She whimpers as she tries to throw her pussy back against you.

She cries out so pathetically that she doesn't protest when you roughly turn her around and lift her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around your hips and sink her to the hilt onto you. You sink her down and up and down again and again, bouncing her on and off of your aching cock in front of the mirror, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from finishing the moment her tightness wraps and flexes around you.

"I'm gonna cum so hard, I swear, I can feel it," she gasps in time with your rough pounding, arms holding onto your neck tightly, fingernails digging into your shoulders. "So close, don't you dare stop."

The harder and faster you go, the louder and harder she screams, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. She digs her heels into your back, pushing down against you so there's nothing left for either of you but pleasure. You pound hard and heavy into her, chasing her orgasm, and when that perfect heat grips all around you and consumes you entirely, there is nothing in the entire world that compares to it—to this. The thought that very soon you will be cumming inside Myoui Mina.

It is that pure bliss, that power and sense of total control, of giving her such pleasure that you're left moaning along with her, revelling in this wonderful mess. Your bodies are sticky and tangled and you just start to let it go. Filling her pretty cunt as you have so many times before.

You grit your teeth and struggle through the overstimulation, taking satisfaction in how the trembling in her legs persists, her breathing ragged and body shaking. Doing your best to fuck your load into her—she's just so into that sort of thing—you don't think that there's anything, truly, that is better than this.

Not when Mina whimpers as she weakly presses her nails into the skin of your shoulders and when she knows not how to stop trembling. Your limits are worth pushing for a woman like her.

But even then, limits are ultimately undeniable. Her full weight in your arms, your knees weak, your legs tire beneath you and finally, as you plant a series of gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, her mouth gasping, her nose against your cheek, you give in and fall to your knees. Mina's back leaves a mark of where it was once imprinted against the glass.

"So..." she laughs breathlessly into your ear as you sit with her on you. "Do you think management has any idea how often we fuck during these trips?"

"I imagine that if they found out it would be both of our jobs on the line." You hold a hand on her lower back, keeping her upright and then place your mouth on one of her breasts. Her nipple is firm, you suck on it and run your teeth over its delicate surface. Mina keens with her mouth falling open and her lashes fluttering, a small quiet "ah" escaping from the back of her throat.

"Guess we better stop," she jokes, breathing out in a chuckle and gently, pushing your forehead away from her chest.

You chuckle dryly into her neck, wrapping both arms fully around her naked body to pull her closer. "Something tells me you won't really be able to help yourself."

"Punishingly handsome, smart, a sense of humour—" She reaches down to where your half-soft cock is planted within her cunt. "—Great cock, excellent fuck" As though it were some sort of sales pitch. "No. No, I can't help myself."

"Is this about next week?" you ask.

"They never split us up, we're a team, so why would they send you with her instead?" Mina rocks her hips slowly on your lap. You groan into the crook of her neck.

"It's a one-off, Mina. In two weeks we'll be travelling together again." You wrap your arms around her soft, warm skin and run them down her back. "Another hotel, another set of adjoining rooms."

"Yeah," she sighs as she lazily continues her grinding. "Or, we could... See each other outside of work, you know. Like normal people do."

"We're far from normal, Mina." You let out a soft sigh as you start to harden inside her again. You pull at the small of her back, urging her on. "We're having our fun, right? It works. What reason is there to rock the boat?"

Her arms move up your chest and onto your shoulders. With that same teasing voice of hers, "There's always room for more fun. More sex." Mina pushes hard on your shoulders, and you fall back into the soft carpet. Mina is above you—over you—all-powerful beauty and you want nothing more than to grab her hips and drive up, and into her. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her arms. Her pert little tits beg to be held. Her face, with flawless skin and those few prominent freckles, is decorated with a filthy smile.

"Two weeks, Mina, two weeks and we'll be back to doing this." You caress the silky soft curves of her sides. "Two more weeks, and then it's a real long trip. Just me and you."

She's visibly more excited, and she rides you harder now than just a gentle grinding and you hear the little wet sounds of your cock plunging into her cum-filled pussy over and over again. Her breasts bounce beautifully, and finally, you do cup one in a hand. A playful glimmer dances in her eyes, along with the lust haze. Mina's wet thighs slap against your hips, the sounds are vulgar in the best way.

"I'm going to fuck you every single morning and night for the whole trip," you tell her, and her grin widens. "Then you won't want for a thing."

Your words only seem to encourage her more, to fuck you harder and harder. She's riding your cock wildly but never has her eyes left yours. She fucks like she does everything else; with every fibre of her being, her passion is unbridled and intense. And oh, when she whimpers, it makes a hot current run straight to the end of your spine, it gets the heat in your head pulsating. That's just what Mina does to you.

"Two weeks without me. You're going to be so frustrated, Mina, so needy. You're gonna make me a promise."

"Mhm?" she gasps.

"You're going to wait for me," you say. "After tonight, for whole two weeks, no cumming."

"No," she says through clenched teeth. "Absolutely not."

"Yes, Mina, absolutely."

You clasp your hands on her hips, slowing down her speed. "Promise me."

She almost struggles to find her voice. "No way. I can't!" Her hips fight against your hold, she fights to drag her cunt over your cock and just feel the pleasure you're denying her. Mina grits her teeth, and the pain is evident on her face. "Okay! Just please fuck me now." She twists her body, trying to release from your hold.

"Promise."

"I promise. I promise. I promise!" Mina squeals, nearly shrieking as you soften your grip and thrust up into her quivering, wet heat. You let her fuck you again and she picks up right where she left off—frantic and wild. She leans in to kiss you deeply, and a little whimper spills from the corner of her lips. "Fuck. Cum inside me again."

The eagerness with which Mina rises and falls on your cock, her pussy taking in all of you, demands only one thing. Cum—the mess of you both—spilling over and running out, all over you and the floor and ruining the hotel's carpet.

"Yes," her voice cracks, high and soft, "Oh fuck. Fuck. God, I'm gonna cum."

It's good, your hands gripping her body firmly, matching her pace, and taking the chance to look behind her, at the mirror, where you can see your cock bury in and out of her again and again. Slipping up below her ass that ripples beautifully every time your hips meet.

Mina cums not even ten seconds later. With an eruption of screams louder than you've ever heard, shudders all over, and more fluid spilling between you both. She's struggling and you feel it. You slap her ass and follow with a groan of words halfway between an instruction and a plea. "Don't stop."

She doesn't stop. She sits up and throws herself back, reaching for something to balance on. A hand against the mirror, her legs spread and her body present to you, she fucks that pretty pussy down onto you so fast, she's struggling to maintain the rhythm but her nails are curling against the glass, her brows are pressed so tense together, her body shakes all over and a cry comes again from that lovely mouth.

She cums again like this as if it's a show for you and what a fucking show it is. Her legs tremble so hard they lose purchase and you begin lifting yourself up into her and the sight, the sound—her sounds—and her perfect body is making you buck and press harder into her. You've become so mindless, so desperate and hungry for her body. You can hardly keep yourself from spilling into her for a second time. But not yet, you think. Not yet and not there.

Mina's leg buckles. She fights for air. "Can't," she chokes out, breathless and shallow. Nothing left to give you. She slips from her perch, collapsing to the floor, leaning against the mirror. Her dark hair matted with sweat, her pale skin gleaming. Her expression is dreamy. "On me. Just finish on me."

On Mina, a work of art. Over her pretty face, or those luscious tits, or that soft tummy. Over that thick, firm and oh-so-perfect ass, or those equally tasty thighs. Maybe even just glaze over her messy cunt. Her eyes flicker as she looks up at you, and you have a decision to make.

"Anywhere. Cum wherever you want."

[yanderestarangel]

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

Part 2

[chilling-seavey]

Enchanté (gr63)

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

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

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

↳ Word Count: 24.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded and permitted him to join you. 

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

“What brings you to Paris?” he inquired.

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

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

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

“Are you an artist?” you asked. 

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

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

“Too bad.”

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

“Do they not?”

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

He sipped his drink. You sipped yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cold?” George asked. 

“No. I’m okay.” you replied. 

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

You smiled to the cobblestones for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This okay?” you asked softly, hesitantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked back at you with a calm smile.

You scoffed faintly, “I highly doubt that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m 26. I have lots of time.”

“I envy that mindset.”

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

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

“Love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This okay?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled right back, “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

George chuckled, “Worth it.”

“Seems so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

“Certainly didn’t feel like it.”

“You were leading.” you protested softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re avoiding the question.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit back your smile and nodded without hesitation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Has anyone rimmed you before?” you asked. 

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

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

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

You shared light laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” you answered easily into his mouth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened, “Really?”

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

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

He kissed your hip, “Of course.” 

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

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

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

“Yeah.” you answered quickly. 

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

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

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

“Please fuck me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you clean?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Of course.” he answered respectfully. 

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

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

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

“So get inside.” you pitched. 

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled, “No. I’m only halfway.” 

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

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

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

“Mhm.” you mumbled into his palm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This okay?” he whispered. 

You nodded, “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? You want me to choke you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed flatly. He kissed between your shoulder blades. 

“Now what?” you asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.” you exhaled. 

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

“F-Fuck!” you gasped, “Yeah!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are your manners?” he pressed. 

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

George gave you another spank, “Keep going.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More?” he asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m-” you shuttered, “so close-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Little.” you confessed shakily. 

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me.” you begged strongly. 

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

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t help yourself but want more. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I-”

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

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

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

“Shit, are you sure?” 

“Yes. Please, sir.” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t pull out.”

“Won’t.” 

“Please.”

“Fuck-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect?” he chuckled. 

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

He kissed your head, “Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not bad.” 

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

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

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

“Sorry.” you whispered. 

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

It made your heart flutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sore?”

“Quite. But in a good way.”

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

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

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

“You’re such a gentleman.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm,” George agreed, “me neither.”

“Could stay here forever.”

“Me too.”

A pause. 

“Thank you for last night.” you said. 

“Thank you for last night.”

“Lots of firsts.”

George chuckled faintly, “Oh, yes.”

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

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

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

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

“Now what?” you asked. 

George slid out of bed to join you with that handsome smile of his, “Now what, what?”

“I’ve never…done this before so I don’t know the proper protocol for leaving.” you rambled. 

“You just kiss me goodbye.” he shrugged, guiding you closer by your hands. 

Part of you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to say goodbye but your mouth abandoned you. So you kissed him once more, lingering on those heavenly plush lips of his, before time was pulling you apart. 

“You’re gonna make some guy into the absolute luckiest bastard on this planet some day.” George said like it was what you needed to hear. 

You gave his hands a squeeze, and let your gaze linger on his face as if trying to memorize the man you had no pictures of. 

“Good bye, George.” you breathed. 

He let your hands slip out of his, “Till we meet again, my love.”

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