#lol jayce

Part 1/3

I might enjoy making angst too much, sorry in advance

when he holds your hand, he’s far more intimate. grips your hand tightly, intertwining your fingers together as he slowly rolls his hips. he places kisses against your collarbone, whispering sweet nothings as his cock vanishes inside of you. he’s soft, needy, wanting to make you feel so good your head spins.

“you’re always so perfect for me. so pretty, so beautiful. i love you, love you, so much.” he’d mutter, praising you as if you’re the goddess that hung every star in his sky. holding your hand as tight as he could, without hurting you of course, solely because he was afraid you’d disappear.

he asks you how you’re feeling, whines when you don’t look into his eyes to tell him that you’re feeling good. he begs for every kiss. fucks you slow and passionate until you’re breathlessly moaning his name.

until he’s no longer holding your hand. when he doesn’t hold your hand; he’s a man possessed. gripping your hips enough to bruise or securing a snug hand around the base of your throat, just enough pressure to make your toes curl. he’s leaving blossoms of hickies along every inch of skin that he can reach, marking you as his. his pace is brutal. he has no problem flattening you into the mattress while he slams his hips right up against you. he thrusts in deep and rough, stretching every inch of you that he can while he reminds you why you’re his.

“you’re perfect. fit me so fucking good. so tight.” jayce groans, gripping your hips a little more as his cock slides out of you. he chuckles deeply at the way you tighten and suck him right back inside. “mine. you’re fucking mine.”