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starvingarsyn · 8 months ago

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Lawd have mercy

Made to Please

Pairing: Darius Tehrani x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+, implied sexting/exchanging of nude photos, spit, unprotected p in v, fingering, one line of degradation, squirting

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: yeah so that picture of Darius has been fucking eating away at my fucking brain. this was also only supposed to be like 600 words, but big fucking surprise, it got away from me.

Darius Masterlist

It was a stupid thing to do, something you absolutely should have shot down the second it started. Every exchanged message and photo with him was a mistake. The first was a genuine accident, a misclick noticed too late to unsend. Your mortified apology lived short, remaining incomplete upon receiving an equally salacious response. You’d told him that it was meant for someone else. All he said was: “What a shame. I have more I’d love to share.”

Hook. Line. And sinker.

A stupid fucking decision that shouldn’t have lasted past the break. Dancing around each other on tour, feeling his intense, intimidating stare constantly on to you. The tension between you was palpable, so thick it could be cut with a knife. It was torture trying to act normal. It made it worse knowing Darius got immense pleasure in watching you squirm reading his graphic filth, detailing in great length what he wanted to do to you and what he wanted you to do to him.

It all came to a head with a black and white photo of him in his jumpsuit, unzipped. Compared to other messages, it was rather tame, but something about that photo—not the one he sent moments later with a half hard cock emerging from his jumpsuit—hammered the final nail in your coffin.

Darius didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. You knew where to find him.

To save face, you grabbed your camera and headed off in his direction.

A chorus of alarms rang loudly in your mind, desperately to warn you of the danger. Immediately the cacophony silenced as you stood in front of the door; It would be easy to turn and bolt, forget about whatever was waiting for you beyond a daunting barrier, but your feet wouldn’t move. The knock on the door seemed to echo, shattering the unsettling quiet around you.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Still and waiting.

You heard the sound of a lock and then the door opened. On the other side, Darius stood with an arm propped on the doorframe, his jumpsuit still unzipped. Try as you might, it was impossible to keep your eyes from wandering. When you looked back to his face, he fixed you with an unamused expression before taking his time raking his eyes over your body, blatant and unashamed.

You followed all too easily with the tug of your camera strap. Darius kept his grip on you, not wanting you to go any farther as he gently closed the door and locked it. He pulled you back until you were pressed against the door and stepped into your space. Dark, intense brown burned into you, turning your blood impossibly hot.

He cut to the chase. “This will have to be quick.”

Even though you knew that, you still deflated a bit. You weren’t expecting rose petals and candles, but it still stung more than you wanted to admit.

You hid your disappointment with a nod and muttered an agreement. Darius worked swiftly after that, wasting no time crashing your lips together and reaching for the button of your jeans. You shoved your hands inside his jumpsuit, desperately seeking the warmth of his skin. He shuddered as you dragged your nails up to his chest and down again.

He tugged your jeans and panties down enough to get his hand comfortably between your thighs. Darius groaned into the kiss, his middle finger gliding along your slick slit. Despite the rush, he took his time touching you, delicately teasing your clit with the pad of his finger. You bit down hard on his lips to stifle your moans; his low growl rippled through you.

When he finally sank the digit inside you, your head thudded against the door, allowing Darius full access to your neck. His bites were sharp, his kisses all hot breath and tongue. The second finger was a stretch, but the burn faded quickly. Already you felt pressure building, his fingers working slow and deep. A well timed curl and the deliberate stroking of a spot you thought a myth until now had your thighs trembling.

Darius started to scissor his fingers, meticulously spreading you open more and working against the clenching of your walls. He grabbed hold of your jaw fully intending to chastise you for squirming but changed his mind seeing the blank, mindless glossed over expression on your face.

The lustful haze you were lost in lifted when you felt a third finger being pressed to your entrance. You tensed. Darius stilled his movement, eyes softening just a bit.

“Everything okay?”

His genuine concern caught you off guard. You managed to nod.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “I just—three seems like too much.”

Darius chuckled.

“Sweetheart,” he spoke, voice surprisingly soft and gentle, “if you want me fuck you, I’m gonna need to get another finger in you.”

You ignored how much the pet name made your heart flutter.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Then will you let me get you ready for me?”

The question hung answered for a long moment. Darius stared straight through you, unwavering and unmoving. You knew you were pressed for time and the fact he wasn’t rushing you even after saying it needed to be quick was touching—and maybe made the emotions you felt more complicated.

You managed another nod and a breathless okay. He cracked a small smile then moved the third finger back to your hole. You tried not to tense, but the stretch as it slid in with the other two was a lot. If Darius minded you digging your nails into his shoulders, he didn’t show it. He was far too obsessed watching your discomforted expression melt into one of pleasure.

The tremble in your legs worsened with each thrust of his fingers. There was no hiding what was happening behind the door. Your moans were loud, almost depraved, an erotic song just for Darius. The steady building pressure in your gut threatened to expel.

But before it could, Darius pulled his fingers from your pussy, leaving you empty. He chuckled at your whine.

“I’m not done yet, don’t worry.” He grabbed a fistful of your shirt and tugged you off the door, walking further into the room. You stumbled on wobbly legs until you felt a hard, cool surface behind you.

He let go of your shirt. You watched his hand disappear inside his jumpsuit, and tried not to gawk at the size of his cock. You’d seen countless pictures of it, but they failed to accurately capture the length and thickness. The hand he’d use to pleasure you wrapped around his cock, using your lingering arousal and the small dribble of precum as lubricant to stroke himself.

Darius invaded your space once again, pushing you completely against the mirror and slid the head of his cock between your folds. He pressed against your clit, circling it a few times before settling at your hole. His free hand gripped your jaw firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“I want to see what my cock does to that pretty little face.” He said, voice low and drenched in lust.

The tip alone was already a lot. You couldn’t imagine how all of him would feel. You tried to keep a straight face, tried to act like he wasn’t massive, but every inch slowly slipping deeper chipped away at your facade. Despite your efforts, your brows knit together and your lip hurt from biting down so hard. When he bottomed out, you exhaled a shaky moan and your eyes rolled back.

Full. Unbelievably full. You were grateful for his preparation earlier. He started slow, allowing you time to adjust before setting a fast pace. It felt impossible to do anything except take what he was giving; even making noise was a struggle.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, accentuating the pet name with a deep thrust that knocked the air from your lungs. “You were moaning like a whore in heat just a bit ago.”

Being called such a sweet name then being degraded made your head spin; it got Darius what he wanted though. A deep, guttural moan erupted from your chest. Darius responded in kind, his much lower and unhinged.

“That’s a good fucking girl.” His hold on your jaw tightened, his nails and rings imprinting your skin.

You could feel the heat of his stare burning through you, hot like lava in your blood.

“Look at me.”

Darius wasn’t asking; he was demanding.

It took you a beat to respond, only doing so when you felt his nails dig more into your cheeks. His dark eyes held a wild glint, reminding you of how he was on stage. Despite his harsh grasp, he gently pulled at your jaw until you opened it.

“There isn’t a thought in that pretty little head of yours is there?” Under different circumstances, the smile he gave may have been nice, sweet even—but it held an edge sharp enough to cut and carve out a piece of you to replace with him.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. Other than skin damp with sweat and wild eyes, Darius appeared mostly unaffected.

His gaze roamed your face, studying every little twitch and gasp falling from your lips. He lingered on your open mouth before returning to your eyes. You thought he was leaning in to kiss you, but instead spit directly on your tongue. Your pussy clenched and Darius groaned. He put his mouth to yours and shoved his tongue inside, licking away his spit.

The hand not attached to your jaw found its way to your clit and circled quickly. Darius swallowed down your moans as your orgasm barreled through you, knocking the air from your lungs and making it difficult to stay upright. His fingers and thrusts were relentless. On the cusp of another, you tossed your arms over his shoulders and wrapped them tightly around his neck, clinging to him as a second climax washed over you.

With a breathless groan, your head thudded gently against the mirror. There was a considerable amount of wetness between your legs. For a brief moment, you worried something was wrong until Darius asked, “Did you just fucking squirt?”

You nodded. One of his hands grabbed your hand waist and squeezed roughly. Darius growled a low and deep fuck. He pulled out abruptly and wrapped his fist around his cock, furiously pumping until he unloaded, spilling his seed between your legs and making more of a mess of your cunt. You could feel it dripping off onto your panties

When he finished, the hand at your waist slid down to your lower back. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. Your fingers found their way into the back of his hair and gently scratched at his scalp. Darius sighed contently, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I almost didn’t pull out in time.” His voice was hoarse and ragged. You gently gripped his hair and gave it an even gentler tug. His eyes fluttered, a quiet, low sound following his exhale.

“Do that again, and we’ll both be late.”

As tempting as it was, you relented, and Darius stepped out of your space. A quick glance at him, and you could see he looked disheveled, his breathing heavy and hairline damp with sweat. You watched his hands situate his cock back inside his jumpsuit then zip the rest of the way up.

Feeling your gaze, he looked up at you, fixing you with an innocent smile while pushing his hair out of his face.

“You might want to change before leaving.” He gestured to your legs. You looked down. There wasn’t as much mess as you expected, but it was enough to raise questions.

“Here.” Darius tossed the pants he was wearing earlier your way.

You thanked him before kicking off your shoes, feeling grateful that you wore some easy to slip off. Slipping out of the jeans, however, was a struggle. Your legs were terribly weak. It was difficult to hold yourself up without tumbling, and you nearly fell on your face. But Darius was quick to catch you.

Sheepishly, you accepted his help, allowing him to pull the fabric from your legs as you stepped out. Darius gathered the jeans and your panties while you slipped on his pants. As expected, they were much too big and long, but they were dry and mostly clean. You had to roll up the waistband more than a few times until they stayed secured.

“I can get these back to you tomorrow.” You said, tucking in your shirt in an attempt to make your outfit look less awkward.

Darius looked you up and down then handed off your clothes.

“You can keep them,” he started, plucking the ruined pair of panties, “if I can keep these.”

You ended up not returning the pants and Darius kept the panties close to his heart—quite literally, safely tucked away in one of the chest pockets of his jumpsuit.

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