#will be posting on ao3 as well at some point soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ncteez · 2 months

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NYMPHO [m.l]

If there’s anything in life that Mark wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where mark is very inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mark another boner.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 13.8K

PAIRING― mark lee x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant mark, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets mark go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read// will come back and maybe try to do that…anyway. im back in the game bitches, someone tell mark [DO NOT]!! disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. additionally: this is also posted on my other blog [@simpjaes] for jake so.........hahaha

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― mark isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, mark’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-”

Mark slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny.

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three.

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point.

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself.

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again.

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting.

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Mark has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway.

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Johnny in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Mark is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Johnny had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Johnny was right, and maybe Mark should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Johnny had advertised. “Even got Jisung laid.”

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Mark has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jisung laid, surely it could get him laid too.

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Mark does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though?

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Mark stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh.

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck.

Safe to say, Mark’s profile went a little something like this:

you can call me mark, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably.

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him.

He can only imagine what the fuck Jisung had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Mark is desperate and so was Jisung at one point.

Apparently girls like desperate guys.

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually.

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?”

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?”

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Mark probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did.

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real.

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?”

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God.

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances.

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs.

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you.

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems.

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back.

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally.

MARK_99 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1.

MARK_99 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2

MARK_99 sent you a message: Wake uppppppppppp!

MARK_99 sent you a message: Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it.

MARK_99 sent you a message: Do you already have me silenced?

MARK_99 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

MARK_99 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he sounds like a fucking loser, love that..

MARK_99 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff?

MARK_99 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot

MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw?

Etcetera.

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed.

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond.

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute.

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone.

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby.

MARK_99: oh god please don’t say that

MARK_99: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then?

Yes, you’re teasing him.

MARK_99: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

MARK_99: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you.

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Mark could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.

MARK_99: i’ll come over right now.

MARK_99: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first.

Always.

MARK_99: right, right, that makes sense.

MARK_99: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits.

Meaning, he has to settle with them too.

And the photo is all but enough for Mark. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden.

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it.

MARK_99: thats so hot…but….

MARK_99: pussy….

MARK_99: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice.

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open.

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again.

MARK_99: tht was hot lol….um

MARK_99: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately.

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot?

MARK_99: ….would u want me to?

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

MARK_99: hahah damn

MARK_99: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i��ll come see you

MARK_99: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Mark is gonna be fun.

MARK_99 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute.

Perhaps even, hot.

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same voice you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

Oh wow.

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying.

Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock.

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough.

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used.

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy.

It’s hot.

And when you approach, Mark nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first.

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Mark stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.” He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot.

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?”

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda.

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal.

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.”

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there.

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Mark swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.”

Mark squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place.

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.”

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Mark?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.”

“Please–” Mark blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this.

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Mark swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse?

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then?

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you.

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now.

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Mark says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.”

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever.

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Mark is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers.

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open.

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally.

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot.

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny.

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.

“Mark,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain.

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove.

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things.

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan.

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place.

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more.

Mark’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Mark keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand.

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket.

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket.

“I’ll text you my address.”

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Mark suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end.

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently.

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though.

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again.

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles.

Mark wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy.

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater.

Mark doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right.

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!”

Mark would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too.

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough.

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!”

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Mark shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!”

And finally, Mark can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum.

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful.

Careful isn’t something Mark can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work.

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle.

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck.

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore.

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems. He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.”

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect.

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Mark nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind.

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back.

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Mark groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either.

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours.

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone.

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it.

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you.

“Ah, fuck–” Mark groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads.

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair.

Mark lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up.

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath.

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud.

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you.

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue.

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really?

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

“God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you.

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself.

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue.

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Mark moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything.

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him.

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?”

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face.

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Mark–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose.

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn.

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you.

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now.

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock.

“Hah–” Mark lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose.

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Mark managed to keep them shoved out of his way.

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Mark has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer.

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match.

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling.

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow.

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too.

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Mark just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Mark follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him.

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time.

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward.

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp.

“Could eat you out again.” Mark mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead.

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Mark could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please.

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated.

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you.

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?”

Mark nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him.

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn.

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Mark.

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night.

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Mark breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are.

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock.

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–”

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Mark moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body.

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches.

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore.

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely.

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Mark loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries.

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely.

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay.

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more.

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you.

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Mark mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Mark catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms.

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes.

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would.

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips.

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways.

Good.

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,” He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips.

“Well, Mark–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Mark rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Mark groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this.

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t.

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold.

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time.

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Mark is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Mark can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation.

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently.

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw.

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw.

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope.

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t.

“You can have it any time you want.” Mark smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.”

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head.

“Not usually, you just turn me on.”

Mark feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl.

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of.

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again.

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this.

“Yes, Mark,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use.

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot.

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic.

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control.

“You want me to sit on it, Mark?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction.

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth.

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it.

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are.

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch.

“That’s it.” Mark soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it.

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving.

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation.

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation.

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed.

“Oh, oh shit, Mark–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no.

“What– What’s wrong?!” Mark’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing.

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest.

Mark just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?”

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe.

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before.

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours.

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural.

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression.

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.”

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The “rest” didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Mark remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves you.

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely.

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Mark seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key.

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties.

#NCT smut #Mark Lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark smut

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bilbosmom-belladonna · 19 days

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Whoops, my hand slipped and I wrote another Steddie ficlet! Also posted on AO3.

The Best Defense

“Hey, freak!”

Eddie froze, the bag of groceries clutched in his hands. Steve's head popped up from where he was putting the other bag in the trunk.

Andy Johnson was headed their way, a look on his face that made Eddie's eyes go wide.

“You got some nerve showing your face around here, freak!” Andy shouted as he approached, pointing a menacing finger.

Steve calmly plucked the bag from Eddie's nerveless fingers, dropped it in the trunk, and smoothly stepped between him and Andy.

“Back off, Johnson,” Steve said, his chin held high.

“You think I'm scared of you, Harrington?” Andy scoffed. “You ain't shit, pretty boy. Daddy's money can't protect you here.”

He glanced over his shoulder, where Eddie could see a group of varsity jackets starting to move closer. Eddie shrank back a little, wishing he could be anywhere else.

Steve cocked his head to the side, just watching for a minute as Andy puffed. Then he reached into the trunk, pulled out his nailbat, and slung it casually against his shoulder.

“Don't think I'll use Daddy's money,” Steve said with a shrug. He dropped the bat into his other hand and twirled it. “Think I'll use this instead.”

Andy blanched. His eyes nervously darted between the bat and Steve. Eddie could see there was still a little bit of dried monster blood on the nails.

For once in his life, Andy did the smart thing. He started backing away, huffing like Steve was the one being ridiculous, but guys like that always want to get the last word.

“Yeah, well, you better keep an eye on your rat-faced little boyfriend, Harrington,” he threatened. “You can't defend him forever.” He backed up a few more steps before he quickly returned to his friends.

Steve turned and looked at Eddie, an affronted look on his face. “Can you believe that guy?”

Eddie winced. “Hey, man, thanks,” he said weakly. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Nah, forget him,” Steve said as he closed the trunk, the nailbat still in one hand. He shook his head. “I just don't get why he would say something like that about you.”

Eddie grimaced, all too aware of the (entirely true) rumors about his sexuality. He didn't want something like that coming down on Steve; he was a good guy, he didn't deserve to get any more tangled up in Eddie's mess than he already was.

“I mean, what the hell was that about?” Steve continued indignantly. “You are not rat-faced.” He scoffed.

Eddie blinked for a minute. “You—” he licked his lips. “What—Steve, what about the other—”

Steve opened his door and sat down.

“I—he called me your—” Eddie stammered. He stood stupidly by the trunk, shoes stuck to the pavement.

Steve closed his door and beeped the horn.

“What—”

“Get in, Munson!” Steve called, leaning out the window with a grin. “The ice cream’s gonna melt.”

Eddie got in. He looked nervously at Steve and licked his lips again.

“Seatbelt,” Steve prompted as he checked his mirrors. He turned to face Eddie as soon as his seatbelt was buckled. Eddie looked back at him

“We'll drop this stuff off with Wayne,” Steve said, “and then I'm taking you out to dinner. My treat.” He reached out and ran his thumb over Eddie's cheek, then turned back to start the car. “Rat-faced,” he muttered disdainfully under his breath as they pulled out of the parking lot.

If you held a gun to his head later, Eddie would never be able to tell you a single thing about the rest of that drive.

#steve harrington defends his man #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #my writing #ao3 link #stranger things fic

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burnthatbridge · 2 months

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if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know)

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious. “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all.

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed.

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled.

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress.

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul.

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it.

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t.

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission.

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else.

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to.

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him.

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie.

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.”

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it.

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them.

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.”

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next?#or is it good as is?#these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me)#buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

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cuckette · 7 months

Text

LOVEY-DOVEY !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink

note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly

stocking filler

You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.

The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.

It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.

Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.

You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.

He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.

Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.

You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.

Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.

When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”

“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.

“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.

“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“About today—“

“Leon.” It’s a warning.

“Baby.”

“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.

“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.

“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.

“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.

“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.

“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”

“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.

“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.

“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”

Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.

You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.

It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.

Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.

“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.

Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?

Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”

“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”

Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?

Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”

“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”

“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.

“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.

My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—

“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.

“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”

Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.

“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.

Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.

Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.

The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.

“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”

“I missed daddy sooo much too!”

“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”

You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.

“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”

“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”

“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.

“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.

“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.

“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.

You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.

“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.

Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.

He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.

“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.

“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”

That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.

He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.

“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”

Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.

“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”

The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.

“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.

“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”

Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”

You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.

That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.

His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.

“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”

The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.

“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.

“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”

All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.

You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”

You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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lawchwan · 16 days

Text

do you like the sound of the music? (law, ace, sanji, zoro, kid)

summary: how the boys sound when they're getting pleasured. reader: gn!reader genre: smut disclaimer: not super detailed smut, but a grave detail on how these fine men sound like a/n: I know I haven't done an a/n, but it has been a minute since I posted here. I have been preoccupied (thanks to being a senior at uni) but now that I am done with everything, I hope I have more free time to post some fics and reignite my love for writing. I won't bore you much and we will proceed with more content (also my fem!law fic is in the works and it'll be put out sometime soon)

crossposted on ao3

Law

as much as i'd like to advocate for the whimper-whiny-loud-subby!law agenda that i have been adapting to my psyche while i was gone, he seems like the quiet kind while he's pleasuring you.

obviously not the type to be overtly silent to the point you won't hear a breath out of him. he's just simply a grunter and a light growler. he won't be very vocal unless you want him too.

when he comes, thats when you hear the magic beautiful sounds. it depends on the type of sex, dynamic, and/or pace you two have set in, he’ll either grunt a dragged deep moan or a slight whimper that cascades into your ears as he spills out his load onto you.

“mm, shit, fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good…fuck~”

ace

oh that loud ass motherfucker. if you expect him to quiet down, well you’re out of luck. even if you placed a gag on his mouth, he’ll still spill out the loudest moan any human could produce (please gag him, he actually loves it).

ngl he kinda is the type to give exaggerated noises, like im talking those very exaggerated moans that you would hear in those shitty pornos (that ace may or may not unironically enjoy).

if you want to illicit the most hottest whimper that spills out of his mouth, simply just stroke and tug on his wavy locks—he will definitely go feral over this simple manuever. his mouth would probably be wrapped around your nipples, and his muffled moans could be heard on the outside, disturbing whoever’s nearby.

“mm—pfah! you think you can cover my mouth, baby?! huh?! think again—oo FUCK!~”

sanji

another loud boy. maybe not as loud as ace, but definitely can be loud if he needs to be.

he’ll honestly let out the most cutest and hottest moans any person can produce, it can even border into whimpering. he does get embarrassed when he gets super loud though, so keep a gag nearby if needed.

he’ll, however, take pride that only you can push him into the edge and let him produce music to your ears, much to the dismay of the crew. he’ll sometimes purposely moan out loud if it means to piss off zoro and keep him up from his slumber, leaving the green mosshead disgruntled and disgusted.

“oh~oh my god! y/n! you feel so—fuck!”

zoro

zoro’s a grunter. next.

no but in all seriousness, he does seem like a grunter and the type to give you dirty talk. he, like law, is not that talkative but he’ll say the most filthiest of shit in your ears that will leave you melting under his touch.

he’ll also maybe taunt you by groaning along with you with a smirk as he looks down at your wet parts.

“aww, you want my cock that badly?… well you might have to beg for it”

kid

jesus this man is crazy in bed. he strikes me as the type to be a growler. he seems to me to be very animalistic as he rails you like there’s mo tomorrow.

i can see him pinning your hips down as he thrusts himself into you, throwing his head back, letting out the loudest growls and groans as he speeds himself up. he’ll probably start talking in haste manner as well as soon as he feels himself getting closer to let his waterfall out.

“c’mon.. fucking, c’mon! you better come for me. come for me. come for me. come for me—grrr FUCK!”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

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dollfaceksj · 11 months

Text

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) MASTERLIST

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Jeon Jungkook is your junior and a great student, obsessed with anime and video games. To you, he’s a Grade A geek. However, you soon find out the reason why he’s so quiet around you is because your mutual friends have told him to stay away from you for your sake, not his. Why? You wish you weren’t so curious because now you’re determined to find out.

➥ GENRE: slowburn ⋆ angst ⋆ fuckboy!jk ⋆ e2l

➥ CATEGORY: crack drabble series (bullet-point format)

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, (eventual smut), plot twist, improv, interactive, angst, love triangle cause theres a bit of yoongi x reader, reader is curious and nosy, arguing, jealousy, jk is TOXIC and so is READER, switch!jk & switch!reader, spit kink, spanking, hairpulling, slapping, protected sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sad childhoods, trauma, lots of trauma, sensitive topics, minors DNI

➥ STATUS: completed

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— i n d e x ↓

♢ #1 jungkook gets down like that

♢ #2 jungkook likes role-play

♢ #3 jungkook doesn’t like you

♢ #4 jungkook wants to apologize

♢ #5 jungkook doesn’t like being called a fuckboy

♢ #6 jungkook wants his expensive sneakers back

♢ #7 jungkook can only offer good dick and math notes

♢ #8 jungkook wants to talk

♢ #9 jungkook buys you a bar of kinder

♢ #10 jungkook wants you to take his bait

♢ #11 jungkook wants what’s best for you

♢ #12 jungkook doesn’t know what to do when he’s nervous

♢ #13 jungkook has some mud on his clothes

♢ #14 jungkook accepts your challenge

♢ #15 jungkook thinks you have a filthy mouth

♢ #16 jungkook can’t stop himself

♢ #17 jungkook has experience in being quiet

♢ #18 jungkook craves love and affection differently

♢ #19 jungkook wants your phone

♢ #20 jungkook doesn’t think he bares all the blame

♢ #21 jungkook thinks you have fallen for him

♢ #22 jungkook is up to date with your instagram stories

♢ #23 jungkook knows more about you than you think

♢ #24 jungkook doesn’t want to hear another word from you

♢ #25 jungkook hates everything about you

♢ #26 jungkook thinks you should end it

♢ #27 jungkook might as well admit defeat

♢ #28 jungkook wants just a little bit

♢ #29 jungkook is never drinking again

♢ #30 jungkook wants to be good to you

♢ #31 jungkook wants you to be sure

♢ #32 jungkook doesn’t want to leave

♢ #33 jungkook and mia

♢ #34 jungkook and the significance of the fallen angel

♢ #35 jungkook and his only friend

♢ #36 jungkook and his enemy

♢ the end.

— s i d e d r a b b l e s ↓

♢ #1 the one in the elevator

♢ pending…

— e x t r a s ↓

♢ playlist

♢ f.a.q.

♢ cross-posted on ao3

♢ pending…

➸ request here

➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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atticrissfinch · 7 months

Text

No Soul to Sell (dark!joel miller x reader) (18+) (oneshot)

pairing: dark!ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel miller x fem!reader summary: divorced joel is fucking his way through his newly acquired bachelor status, when he remembers you—the (recent) ex-girlfriend of his son—are now an option for him. CAUTION: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NONCON WARNING. Warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] Joel POV, misogynist!joel, slut!joel, general evil menace!joel, dubcon that devolves into explicit noncon mid-act, age gap (unspecified, but joel is old enough to be reader’s father), mentions of infidelity (joel is a lying cheater, reader has been cheated on previously—not by joel), little/no prep, coerced unprotected piv, noncon creampie, lying/manipulation, sexist and derogatory/degrading language word count: ~2.8K | ao3 a/n: here’s my contribution to @chloeangelic’s divorced!slut!joel challenge. It was supposed to be 1.5k or less, but daddy chloe gave me special permission to go over. she also convinced me to write a fucked up alternate ending to this already fucked up fic, and I’ll provide the warnings for that before the alt ending, below the initial fic. Masterlist | Kofi A little post-fic drabble for those interested :)

Joel was acutely aware of his perpetual need to keep his dick wet. Hell, it’s the primary reason his wife left him in the first place.

Whenever the old bitch went frigid, he was forced to dip his wick elsewhere. Preferably somewhere young and pretty. If you put a gun to his head, he would admit that the papers weren’t a shock. He wasn’t exactly the most diligent at covering his tracks, and his wife wasn’t that stupid. So she had them drawn up the day she discovered he had been stepping out.

He shrugged it off, said some less-than-polite words, and—after some nauseating mediation proceedings—signed the fuckers. Packed his shit and went on his way to his recently secured apartment.

It wasn’t until after about a week of being by himself that he came to terms with how shitty being alone really was. Having to actually put in work to get sex again was a chore. When he was married, if he’d wanted it badly enough, his wife would usually give it up one way or another. But now he was severely lacking in a live-in cock warmer, and he needed it. He needed a warm hole to fuck, or he felt like he was going to shrivel up and turn to dust. After a few days without one, he would start getting jittery, and no amount of coming in a tube sock would satiate his carnal, irrepressible need for pussy. Any pussy.

And now, three months into his bachelor lifestyle, he’s already worked his way through most of his ex-wife’s (less loyal) friends, and all available female acquaintances that he could reasonably plow into. He’s run dry to the point where he’s started fucking the better pussies a second time. Since the divorce, Joel has learned that he really doesn’t like repeats anymore. He likes the thrill of sinking into a new hole, the challenge of what makes them tick. As soon as he cracks the code, the mystery is gone.

One evening, he’s lazily scrolling through the contacts on his phone, his dick once again fueling his decisions, when he comes across you.

Of course. It’s so obvious, he’s frustrated he hasn’t thought of you before. He knew you’d always had a thing for him. He had for you as well. The moment the two of you met, there was an energy between you. Purely sexual. He saw it in your eyes, he felt it in his dick. You had wanted him. And he had wanted to give it to you. But both of you were well aware that the other was off-limits, especially with your respective partners at each other’s sides. One of those partners being his own son.

A son he never truly connected with. A mama’s boy through and through. Sensitive and soft like her, but selfish and surly like him.

And ultimately, to Joel, a disappointment.

But now. Now that his wife is out of the picture. Now that Preston is out of your picture…

Joel: Hey you. Would you mind if I stopped by tonight? I think we’re overdue for a talk.

Not even an hour later, Joel is knocking at your door.

You open it, and you’re nothing short of a fuckable vision, clad in your black cotton leggings and your tank top, hands glistening and damp from what he parses is water from the dishes you’re in the middle of doing.

“Sorry, just finishing up,” You pardon yourself, bending at the waist like a fucking siren beckoning him as you pull up the door on your dishwasher to latch it shut and start the cycle.

He can’t resist it. Not for another second. He can hear, feel your breath hitch as he presses dangerously close against your back, your stomach hitting the lip of the counter as his breath fans out over your neck.

“Joel…” You start to object as he slides his hands down your torso, landing on your hips and rolling his own into yours to show you just how quickly you’re getting him where he desperately craves to be. “What are you doing?”

“What we’ve both wanted to do since we first laid eyes on each other,” Joel replies huskily, ghosting his lips over your ear to nip at your earlobe.

You half-heartedly attempt to bring your shoulder to your ear to nudge him away, but he just gives a small chuckle. “Am I wrong about that?” He bites kisses down the expanse of your neck, flexing his fingers around your hips. “Have you not been fuckin’ me with those beautiful eyes since we met?”

“We can’t do this,” You puff out, your breath already shallow with your own desire.

Joel’s fingers squeeze heavily at your hips as his fully hard cock grinds between your asscheeks in those sinful leggings, resulting in your head lulling back on your shoulders with a moan.

“We’re both single,” Joel counters, “We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

And then Joel is spinning you around, crashing your lips together in a hungry, brutal kiss. His tongue doesn’t request entry, it just takes it, filling the expanse of your mouth for his own exploration and pleasure and tasting of his filthiest dreams. His hands rake up your tank top over your tits for his mouth to devour, your head falling back again as obscene noises spill out of it.

Joel hitches your leg at his hip and drags his cock up your cunt, pulling a whimper from you that has him feeling feral, crazed enough to want to rip right through your clothes.

“Wait, wait, wait,” You pant out, shoving some space between the two of you in a way that makes Joel want to show you exactly what he thinks of that little move at this current juncture. But he huffs a sigh, caging you in with his hands gripping the counter at your back, but leaving precious inches of atmosphere between you.

“I don’t wanna wait,” Joel growls out, grinding his teeth.

“Look, I just need to know something, okay?”

Joel struggles not to roll his eyes in impatience, forcing himself into some semblance of concern. “Alright. What do you need to know, darlin’?”

Your eyes flutter momentarily at the name, but you push through. “When Preston told me about you and your wife—”

“Ex,” He corrects with gusto.

“Right, sorry, ex-wife. Well, he made it sound like she left you…” You hesitate a moment before exhaling, “Because you cheated.”

And Joel isn’t daft, so he slides his hands around you and nuzzles at your nose with his own. “Darlin’, that’s the opposite of what happened. She cheated on me.”

It’s as easy as breathing.

He can feel the tension sapping from your body at the words, so he continues. “And maybe it makes me a bad man, but all I’ve had the strength to do lately is try to fuck her, and her unfaithfulness, out of my system.”

“I get that,” You reply softly, your fingers creeping up to lock into his flannel and your eyes meeting his with only slight trepidation.

Once he sees he has you reeled in, he goes for the kill. “And could you think of any tastier revenge for what he did to you? For takin’ after his mama like that? Steppin’ out on you?”

A rattled shame shimmers in your eyes as he abruptly brings your reality to light. “Joel—”

“I know. I know all about it. His mama told me before we split.”

Your eyes dip down, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill.

“Hey,” Joel coaxes, tipping your chin back up to look at him. “Wouldn’t you like to get back at them? Cause I can’t think of a better way. You get to fuck the older, more mature version of him. The man who brought that cheating motherfucker into this world. And I get to slide into someone so much fuckin’ tighter and younger and cuter than her. It’s a win-win.”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do,” Joel whispers, and determines that you have had quite enough conversation, silencing you with his mouth on yours again. This time you melt into him, clutching his flannel as hard as he hopes your pussy will be on his cock in a few blistering moments.

You’re face down on your mattress in record time, Joel wrenching off your leggings and underwear and shoving his own bottom half free of clothing before pulling your now bare hips into his throbbing cock.

“C-condoms in the nightstand,” You stutter out.

He groans. “Don’t make me, darlin’. Wanna feel you.”

“Joel,” You protest again, and he’s starting to really fucking hate how his name sounds on your tongue when you’re reprimanding him like that. It reminds him of his ex-wife, every fucking time he did something she didn’t like.

Joel, stop tracking mud on the hardwood.

Joel, stop shoving things in the closet.

Joel, stop trying to put it in my ass.

Just non-stop nagging, nagging, nagging.

Joel shakes his mind clear and refocuses on the delicious, plump ass raised in the air for him.

“Aren’t you on birth control, darlin’?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then that’s all we need. How about you just trust me and we’ll have some fun, huh?”

“Okay,” He hears you mutter into your arm. “Just pull out, please. I still don’t wanna risk—” Your words are cut off by an almost shrieking moan of your own making as Joel fucks into you without warning, your insides clenching around him like a fucking vice.

Joel’s own moan rings out loud, animal, as your slick insides open up around him, parting easily as he starts to fuck you with abandon. “So fuckin’ tight, darlin’. Squeezin’ this cock just right. So fuckin’ good.”

You mewl into the sheets, wrinkling them with your fingers as he ravages your insides with ferocity.

“Knew this pussy would be good to me. Open up so easy for this big cock. You openin’ up easy for me, darlin’?”

You whine, lost for speech as his fingers bruise at your hips, smooth down your spine under your shirt to keep you pressed into the bed for him.

The sound of your skin slapping together penetrates the room, and Joel is getting tired of only hearing his own voice. He likes when they talk him up, tell him how good he feels, how much better he is than their husbands or boyfriends. He prods at you between breaths, “C’mon, talk to me, sweetheart. Been fuckin’ a lot of bitches like you since my split, you really gonna let them show you up? You don’t wanna go down in my little black book as a boring piece of ass, do ya? Keep it interestin' for me.”

He thinks he hears you whine mutedly, “‘S good.”

But that’s it. Just more of Joel’s grunts, more skin-on-skin, more of your shitty bed frame squeaking.

Boring, boring, boring.

Joel feels his façade sloughing off of him in sheets as your pussy grips him, taking him all the way in and soaking him an amount that he thinks you should probably be embarrassed about, with how desperate you are for him and how little you’re showing it.

“Just a piece of fuckin’ meat for me, huh? Nothin’ to say. No brains, no nothin’. Just a fucked-out little cocksleeve whore.”

He hears you make a weird noise beneath him and then your voice finally rising and skipping with the tempo of his harsh thrusts, “Joel…I’m not sure I like this.”

He knew this was coming. He just laughs it off, redoubling his imprints on your hips. “Oh, you don’t like this, huh? What don’t you like?”

“I-I don’t think I—”

“No, lemme just stop you there, sweetheart,” Joel growls out, halting his thrusts when he’s pressed balls deep inside you, holding you flush against his hips. “Lemme stop you, ‘cause I already know you don’t think. You’re a fuckin’ woman.”

You squeak below him as he picks his pace right back up, punishing your cervix for the sins of your protests as he blabbers on, “You were created to be a vessel for cock. Holes to fuck. Everything else is secondary. This is what you were made for. This doesn’t make you happy?”

“I’m really not having fun anymore, Joel! Please stop!” You plead, lashing out a hand to push against his hip, only to be slapped away. Joel’s face turns vengeful as he secures a hand around the back of your neck and forces your hips down onto the bed, pinning you with his full body weight and knocking the air out of your chest as his cock continues to split you open.

“Well, lucky for me, I’m having enough fun for the both of us right now. I’d say that’s all that matters.”

“I said stop!” You let out a violent sob, using all your strength to buck up against him to no avail.

Joel scoffs, bringing a hand around to shove four thick fingers into your incessant mouth, cutting off any comprehensible dissent from you. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. I’m gettin’ what I came for.”

Your muffled screams propel him forward into your trembling wet heat, grunting when your walls clutch him as if your life, your sanity depends on it. And shit if that doesn’t make him that much harder.

“Oh, fuck yeah, keep squeezin’ me like that baby, just like that. Don’t wanna hear a goddamn word about you not droolin’ for this cock, darlin’. Cause I can fuckin’ feel it. Droolin’ from your mouth and your pussy.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers that you’re biting into his fingers as you scream over them, but for reasons foreign to him prior to this point, the pain spurs him on. Your saliva drips down his fingers, flowing in rivulets down his wrist as he hammers into your cunt.

“Not sure why you’re fightin’ me, when I gave you the chance to speak the fuck up. The one time I don’t want a bitch to shut her goddamn trap and you refused to do it. ‘F you’re not gonna make it worth my while, I’ll do it my damn self,” He grunts, holding open your jaw with his crooked fingers and railing into you with every ounce of resentment he has for his ex, for his son, and for every cunt who dared not impress him.

Joel feels his release building, his cock twitching inside you as he fucks your tightening hole, but he begs his body to hold out just a little longer. He pistons his hips in shallower thrusts as he levels with your ear, speaking over your whimpers, “I got a little confession, sweetheart. I lied. I did cheat on my wife.”

You whine, sob around his fingers, bending your knees against the mattress as you try and get leverage, but Joel’s smart enough to know you’re no match for his strength. The new position you’ve ended up in has Joel fucking even deeper into you, your keening growing more unhinged as Joel takes and takes and takes.

“Yeah, I cheated on that bitch over and over and over,” He spits, punctuating each repetition with a relentless slam of his hips into your ass. “And now that I’ve been where he’s been, felt what you got to offer, I can see why my son cheated on you, too.” He thrusts into you one last, brutal time, looping his free arm your neck to hold you in place as your sobs go quiet, more like resignation. Like defeat.

Joel’s forehead presses into the back of your neck as his cock pulses inside you, filling you with his load and claiming you for himself. He grunts out, “I know you wanted me to pull out, but…well, shit, I didn’t wanna. Want you to remember this.”

You finally go limp underneath him, and Joel hums a rumbling sound of approval. “That’s right. Just let it happen. All filled up with me now. What would Preston say? Spreadin’ your legs for his father, wringin’ his cock dry for his come?”

His fingers slip out of your mouth, drenched and a little pruned with purpling divots from your teeth adorning them. You just sniffle, your head collapsing into the sheets upon Joel relinquishing his hold.

“You stupid bitches never learn,” He mutters, groaning as his cock slips free of your clutches and lifting his weight off of you. He watches you take your first full-chested breath since he pinned you down, and it looks a little pathetic to him. When you don’t make an effort to move, Joel just goes about pulling himself back together. He leans against your bedroom door frame, studying the rise and fall of your body with each breath, his come leaking out of your spent cunt, the spots on your hip where he guarantees color will bloom where his fingers had been.

“All the same,” He mumbles. “All of ya. You’re nothin’ but fodder. Spread you out, devour you bit by bit.”

You lay silent, but he knows you hear him.

“And if there ain’t nothin’ left of ya when I’m finished,” He says, shrugging a little as he turns to leave, “far as I’m concerned, that’s when I know I done my job right.”

—-

Post-fic drabble

Alternate Ending

Further warnings/tags: noncon piss!kink (f receiving), disrespect/violation of someone in a presumed catatonic or dissociative state

word count: ~500

a/n: Chloeangelic is 100% to blame for this. I was fully content with the original ending, and then she said “but what about piss kink?? Maybe??” and I’m nothing if not a subby little bitch for her, so here it is.

----

But he stops. Takes in the sight of you. You look so goddamn helpless.

“Hey,” He prompts, shaking your foot in search of a response from you. You don’t budge. You don’t speak. The only signs of life are your tear-filled, periodically blinking eyes and the undulation of your breathing.

He thinks you may be in shock or something. Typical woman.

Something about that pisses him off. Deep inside the darkest recesses of his psyche, he craves a response from you. And you’re not giving it.

As he ponders how to earn that response, nature poses its own suggestion for him. He bats the idea around in his head. His gaze lingers on your bare ass, your exposed back, your overall catatonic state. He thinks about his wife—ex-wife—and every time she complained that he was too rough with her, that he asked too much of her, that it seemed like he didn’t care about her.

Well, fuck her, maybe he fucking didn’t.

Rage flares up inside him again, staring at your pitiful, fucked out body. And he decides to just release it.

Propped up on his knees between your spread thighs, flaccid cock in hand, he expels a cathartic sigh as he starts to relieve himself.

He expects you to bolt up the second the hot, wet pressure hits your back, but you are surprisingly unphased. He cocks his head to the side as his piss soaks the back of your rucked-up shirt, darkening the white and bleeding up the ribbed fabric.

He tilts the head of his cock down, his piss shooting against the globes of your ass and splashing back a little on impact. His eyes go dark as he aims for the crack of your ass, devouring the sight of it seeping down to the creampie he made of your sorry cunt. The substances intermingle on the wet spot directly below the opening of your pussy where you’d already made a mess on the sheets with your combined fluids. Something about adding one more to the mix has him transfixed. Less upset at your lack of reaction.

He’s actually disappointed when he feels his cock emptying, sputtering out the final remnants of his piss directly toward your creamy slit.

Satisfaction settles in his chest for the first time in a long while…maybe since before his divorce. Seeing a woman totally destroyed by his own hands, his own dick. A phantom shiver vibrates down his spine at the magnitude of this self-discovery, and he rolls his neck in a circle as he stuffs himself back into his pants.

He flicks off the lights, leaving you reeking in a puddle of his come and piss, and contemplating whether he should call his son to come find you.

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crljhnn · 1 year

Text

Math tutor

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: Rodrick is continuously unsuccessful in asking you out, so when he finds out that you are now tutoring his younger brother he decides to use this to his advantage. The only problem, Greg doesn't play along.

No physical description of the reader; No use of y/n

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

>Posted on AO3 as well<

“So that means x equals 9.” The answer comes out more like a question.

You've been tutoring Greg for about three weeks now and he finally, for the first time since starting this school year, seems to understand what is going on during math class.

“Yes, that’s right!”

“Really?”

While Greg wasn’t the first Heffley you ever tutored, he was the first to actually listen to what you said and process your explanations.

A few years ago you were taking the same math class as his older brother Rodrick who, back then, quite literally begged you to give him some tutoring lessons. While you didn’t like the idea of spending extra time at school to teach someone math, him apparently being so desperate for help, tugged at your heartstrings, making you give in.

On top of that, him being kind of cute and your teeny-tiny crush on him helped convince you as well. However, this adoration you harbored for about three months at that point, died about 5 minutes into your session.

He was barely paying attention to what you were saying, focusing more on drumming his pencils on the edge of the desk while humming along, using every breath you took to change the subject, mostly telling you about this little band of his. The straw that broke the camels back was when he dared to ask why you wanted to end the session only 15 minutes in, following it up with a „That was fun, let’s study together again soon!“.

Since you felt rather disrespected by that, you haven’t really spoken to him since. The highest form of communication was a forced smile when he would greet you in the hallway. You don’t have any common classes anymore.

However, your fiasco concerning Rodricks tutoring lessons didn’t stop his mom from asking you to tutor her younger son who, unsurprisingly, was falling behind in math as well. The significant difference this time was, that you were being paid. So even if Greg turned out to be just as uninterested in what you were saying as his older brother, it wouldn’t be a complete waste of time, at least for you.

That’s how you ended up in the local library every Monday and Wednesday for the last few weeks, explaining math to the younger brother of your former crush.

Today was different though. Since the library had to close down for a week, because of renovations, you decided to meet at the Heffleys house instead.

The last thing Rodrick expected, when he went downstairs to raid the fridge for snacks, was finding his crush of 3 years sitting in his living room.

Having his eyes fixed on you, he misses the last step, causing him to stumble, managing in the last second to grasp the railing to stop himself from face-planting. The result was him reaching the end of the stairs with a loud crash.

“You surely know how to make a remarkable entrance.”

“Haha yeah, hi.” He nervously scratches the back of his head “What are you… hah… what are you doing here?” ‘Stay cool Rodrick, you got this!’

“What does it look like? She’s tutoring me dumbass” The oldest Heffley son honestly didn’t even realize his younger brothers presence until he spoke up.

“Ah cool, so uhm good luck?” With another awkward laugh, he turns around and runs back upstairs.

Back in his room, he begins to panic, if he would have known that you were here he would have prepared better. But he’s sure he can still wing it.

First of all, he’s calling the band over for practice, I mean, he has his own band, chicks dig that.

He has it all planned out in his head, he will put on nice clothes, a nice perfume, and maybe even a bit of eyeliner as well, surely you’re into that. Then he’s gonna go downstairs, let his band in, and have a little jamming session with the boys.

Then there are two possible ways how the plan could continue to play out.

Possibility one, you hear his band playing from the living room and are so impressed that you just have to go and get a closer look. After that, he is going to invite you to sit in on practice for a bit longer. At the end of the session mesmerized will be an understatement to describe your state of mind and you won’t even have to think about it twice when he finally asks you out on a date.

The second possible outcome of you hearing him play is that you, while amazed, are still too shy to come up to him, so he will take a little break to get himself something to drink. Like one of those movie cliches, he’s gonna come in all sweaty, taking a sip of water and then emptying the rest of the bottle over his face and body to ‚cool himself down. Women find that hot, right? You definitely won’t be able to take your eyes off of him then.

While he is daydreaming about you drooling over him, he simultaneously digs through his closet, trying to find this one specific band shirt, that he bought after overhearing you gushing about their newest album. At the same time as he finds it, he hears his friends pull up, making him change in record speed while leaving his room to go back downstairs.

“Oh my god thank you for finally changing your shirt, the last one was smelling disgusting after you’ve been wearing it for like two weeks straight.” Greg had picked up on Rodricks crush on his tutor instantly, quickly deciding that using this new information to mess with him is the best form of revenge for the years of torture his brother put him through.

“Ugh shut up.” He turns to you “He’s lying you know. I change my clothes an appropriate amount of times. I actually just got ready for band practice. You remember me telling you about my band right? The boys are gonna be here any minute now.” He tries to be casual by leaning against the railing of the stairs but ends up stumbling instead.

“Yeah, I remember,” You don’t seem too happy about it though “But why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

Rodricks head snaps down. Fuck. Greg giggles. An awkward silence follows.

He's saved by the doorbell ringing, followed by the other Löded Diaper members walking in.

“Hi bro!”

“Yo Rodrick!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

This time it’s you who giggles.

Sensing how embarrassed their band founder is, the boys take pity on him and rush him away.

After Rodrick explained his plan to his friends, resulting in him getting hyped up by them, they played for a while. After about 30 minutes he concludes that you won’t make the first move, which brings him to execute plan B of his strategy: to take matters into his own hands.

“You got this man!” He jogs back towards the living room, expecting to find you and his younger brother still studying but instead, he is greeted with Greg sitting in front of the tv playing video games.

“Oh is your tutoring session over already?” He tries to sound unbordered but fails horribly.

“Yeah you know I found it really hard to concentrate with this loud music, so we cut today short.” Greg grins up at the oldest Heffley child.

“Listen up you little shit-” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Maybe he could use Gregs help for his own benefit since you always seem to flee when he tries to make a move. It was the same a few years ago.

He had it all planned out back then as well. First, he was gonna ask you out for a study date, well that didn’t quite work out and it ended up more like a tutoring session. However, the result was that you two were spending some alone time together, so you could say that he roughly reached his initial goal. At least he counted it as a success.

Then Rodrick was going to make you fall for him. And how was he gonna do that? By impressing you of course. And what is the best way to impress a girl? Being in a band! Easy.

Well, that didn’t work out, driving you away even further. So maybe he could use his younger brother to get some inside info on what you like in men and what makes you fall for them.

Rodrick is fast to lay out his new plan to Greg.

“And why would I assist you with that? What is in it for me?” As expected, he is not exactly keen on helping his older brother out. So threatening it is.

“Cause if you don’t, you will regret it.” Greg is about to refuse again when he gets an idea. This would be the perfect way to get revenge on Rodrick. He is just gonna spin around everything you say and make his older brother ruin every chance he's ever had with you.

“Alright fine, I’ll do it.”

—

“Okay spit it out!” You and Greg are seated at your usual table at the library “You haven’t been able to sit still since you got here, what’s wrong?”

“I have a question.” He is not looking at you.

“Okay shoot!”

Greg has been thinking about how to interrogate you about your type without raising suspicions since the day he agreed to help Rodrick. “So there is this girl I kind of like and I wanted to ask you for advice. If a guy would want to go out with you, what would he need to do to stir your interest?”

“Well, every girl is different so-”

“Yeah but what about you?”

That confuses you a bit, but Greg asking you for girl advice was cute enough for you to not overanalyze it further.

“Well me personally, I like sweet and considerate guys,…”

—

“So what did she say?!” Rodrick was waiting for his younger brother at the front door, attacking him with questions as soon as he was close enough to hear.

“Calm down! So first of all she said, that she likes assholes you know, just your typical badboy!”

—

“…you know, the kind of guy who listens to what you have to say and really values your opinion. I want someone who actually hears what I say and shows that he is interested in me as a person...”

—

“She wants someone who is just a natural leader, an alpha, someone who makes decisions for her and shows dominance by interrupting her frequently. Also don’t seem too eager, she said she finds that overwhelming and just too much. Play it cool, act like you don’t care.”

—

“… so that means I also prefer deeper compliments, not just about my looks. Of course, it's nice to be called pretty every once in a while, but there is nothing worse than a guy repeatedly telling you how attractive you are, without ever appreciating anything else about you! Like is that the only thing about me that you like, my looks?…”

—

“She also likes to be complimented about her looks a lot, the more the better. Don’t even bother with any other kinds of compliments. ”

—

“… And lastly, never compliment a woman by putting other women down. The whole ‘Oh you're just not like other girls’ thing is deeply rooted in misogyny. It’s never a flattering compliment when it's only working because you are putting someone else down.”

—

“And lastly, she wants to feel special, you know, the best compliments include a comparison, for example, tell her how she is prettier than other women!”

Rodrick was hastily writing everything down.

“Thank you so much, I owe you!”

“No problem”

—

While you forgot about Gregs weird behavior as soon as you go back to explaining math, you are reminded of it again later, when he asks you to have your next session at his house, without giving an actual reason.

The weirdness reached its peak when he, shortly after you arrived at his house the next week, excused himself to quote ‘Look for, uh… you know,… a thing? That’s in my room’, then went to the bathroom instead, and ‘coincidentally’ as soon as he left his older brother showed up.

“Heyyy what’s up?” Rodrick mentally revises the list he learned by heart last night.

‘Be an asshole’ he kicks your water bottle that was standing next to you, “Oops…”

“Rodrick what the fu-”

‘Show dominance’

“Pick it up!”

“Excuse me? What is wrong wit-”,

‘Act like you don’t care’

“Quit talking like I care about what you have to say, what was your name again?”

“Wh- We both know that you know my name, what the fu-”,

‘Compliment her looks’

“You’re hot!”

And lastly, ‘Make her feel special by comparing her to other women’

“Especially compared to the other girls at school”.

A perfect delivery. He did everything that Greg told him to do. But why did you seem so angry? You looked like you were ready to swing at him.

That’s when he saw it. His shitty little brother was watching the interaction through the slightly opened bathroom door, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. When he catches Rodricks eye he slams the door shut.

“I’m gonna kill you!” He is sprinting towards the room his brother is hiding in, banging his fists against the door.

“What the fuck is going on?” You haven’t been so confused in a long time. That’s when it clicked for you too. That’s why Greg was acting so weird, that’s why he asked about YOUR dating preferences specifically. He asked for advice for Rodrick but must have messed with his brother, based on the older ones reaction.

“Rodrick, were you trying to hit on me?” Your voice is heavily laced with disbelief.

The boy stopped his obnoxious assault on the door.

“Did it work?”

You barely hold in your laugh. “Sure.”

“Wait really?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Your smile is kinder now, finding this side of Rodrick, where he is eager to appeal to you, really endearing. Shit, are your feelings for him coming back? You definitely were completely over your crush before, so how did he so easily wrap you around his finger again?

“I would have never guessed that you out of all people were into me, you know, after the little stunt you pulled a while ago.”

“What do you mean?” Rodrick is confused, when did he do something that made you believe that he wasn’t interested in you?

“Our tutoring session? When you completely disrespected me by not even listening to me after you were the one to ask for help.”

“I was listening to you! It's just hard to concentrate when you are so… you! And your voice is so…” Wow he just has this way with words “And I didn't intend for it to be actually studying when I ask you. I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you, maybe impress you a bit, my band being the impressive part by the way, and then later ask you out on a date.” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

“And this little scene that played out just now, I guess that was Gregs doing?”

“Yes, since it didn’t work out the last two times I tried to get you to go out with me, I thought this was the best way to do it.”

Oh, your crush was definitely back, and bigger than ever at that.

“Well you never actually asked me out, maybe that would have been enough.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know, guess you have to ask to find out.”

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #no use of y/n

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starbandit · 1 year

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Backseat (Choi YeonJun)

Preview: “So, uh..” He cleared his throat. “You wanna move this to the back seat?” He asked nervously.

Contains: bestfriend!yeonjun, unprotected sex, nipple play, semi-public sex, car sex, kinda confusing feelings, lots of making out 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

word count- 2.1k/unedited/cross-posted to ao3

“You ready for the most exciting night of your life?” You asked as soon as your passenger side door opened. Your best friend sat down, kicking the water bottle by his feet as he did. He had a mask pulled over his face, a hat tipped low.

“How exciting are we talking? I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me.” He chuckled as he pulled the mask off and threw the hat on your dashboard. His hand came up to push his hair back before he looked over, flashing a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

Choi Yeonjun. Your best friend since elementary school. The one who had transferred to your school from out of the country, the one who taught you Korean during recess, who you helped with English homework after school. When he moved back to Korea, you guys swapped addresses and emails and kept up with each other. He constantly told you about how training was going, about his debut date.

Whenever they had concerts in your area, you were the first one to know. Yeonjun always spilled the beans and pulled some strings to get you there. You enjoyed spending time with the rest of the boys, but these moments alone with Yeonjun always meant the most.

“Well it is close to midnight, so not too exciting.” You pulled out of your parking spot. “There’s a late night boba place close by, and maybe we can get some cheap burgers somewhere. Maybe get some gossip going in a parking lot somewhere.”

“So thrilling.” He clicked his seatbelt. “How was the show?”

“Amazing as always,” You turned to smile at him as you slowed to a stop at a red light. “The girls next to me kept talking about how hot you are. I wanted to tell them about the time you nearly shat yourself after we had bad sushi in LA.”

“Hey! We promised to never bring that up!” He pointed at you. “You weren’t much better that night! You nearly threw up from laughing at me” He crossed his arms and pouted.

Laughter erupted in the car, both of you arguing back and forth about who had it worse that night. Soon enough, your drinks and snacks had been collected and the two of you were off to find some kind of secluded parking lot.

“Okay, give me some juicy gossip.” Yeonjun pushed his seat back and unbuckled his seat belt. He dug in the bag of cheap fast food and pulled out some fries. “What’s been going on since the last time we talked?”

“Where do I even begin?” You took a sip of your boba and reached over to steal a fry from Yeonjun.

The night began to fly by as the two of you laughed and dug deep into some serious topics. It wasn’t until a light silence fell over the two of you that you felt your heart begin to flutter again. You locked eyes with your best friend and suddenly the tension grew. His lips parted slightly and his tongue peeked out, wetting his lips.

You wondered how they would feel. Pressed against your lips, parted against your throat in gasps and whimpers, how they would feel wrapped around your clit. How swollen and pouty they would get after kissing and biting.

Before you knew it, you were leaning over to the passenger seat and Yeonjun was meeting you almost halfway. Your lips met and you couldn’t believe what was happening. His lips were soft, almost silky, and so plush. His hand came to rest on your waist, giving you some stability as you leaned over to him. He kissed you back with intense passion, his tongue slipping between your lips and into your mouth.

You couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling, his tongue slowly moving with yours. He gently sucked on your lower lip and gave a tiny nibble as you pulled away.

“So, uh..” He cleared his throat. “You wanna move this to the back seat?” He asked nervously.

He couldn’t have asked sooner. The second those words left his mouth, you were crawling through the space between your two chairs and into the backseat, waiting for him to follow. He crawled back, laughing slightly as he tried to wiggle his legs through without falling on top of you. The second he fell into the seat next to you, you wiggled into his lap, straddling him.

His hands came to rest on your waist again as you leaned down to kiss him. His lips met yours once again, this time a little harder. His hands gripped your sides as he feverishly kissed you back, both of your tongues fighting for spots in each others mouths.

“Ah, fuck.” He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. A loud whimper escapes his lips as you grind your hips down on his. The growing bulge in his sweatpants sat perfectly on your heat, and you weren’t about to let that go to waste. Another gasp left his mouth as you dipped your head down to suck a mark on the side of his neck.

You couldn’t help but lick a line from his exposed collarbone to the space under his ear, the salty sweat tickling your tongue. You could feel his pulse under your lips as you gently kisses the spot before sucking his skin into your mouth, gently nibbling as you left the red mark.

“Fuck, Y/N.” His arms moved up your back and pulled you closer. You hummed lightly, pulling off the skin and giving it a light lick in an attempt to soothe the area.

His lips captured yours again as soon as you pulled back, his hands moving to pull at your shirt. “Take it off,” He whispered against your lips. “Let me touch you, see you.”

You pulled away to quickly take your top off and threw it into the front seat. Yeonjun immediately reached around to fiddle with your bra straps, undoing the clasp in a matter of seconds. The fabric slid down your arms and to the floor.

You giggled slightly as you looked at Yeonjun. His eyes were focused on your chest, mouth slightly agape. His hands were trembling slightly as he sat back and brought them up to your chest, slightly cupping your breasts. He slurped slightly as he closed his mouth, massaging your breasts.

“Holy shit, they’re so perfect.” He whispered. His thumbs moved to flick your nipples and roll the soft buds. “Why have you been hiding these from me?” He looked up at you, moving closer to wrap his lips around one of the now hardened buds.

Your eyes rolled back slightly at the feeling of his warm mouth around your nipple. The softness of his tongue caressing the sensitive skin sent waves through your stomach. You nearly lost it when you looked back down at him and he was watching your face with slightly hooded eyes. Your hand moved to pet the back of his hair, running your fingers through the soft locks as he stimulated your nipples.

Yeonjun pulled away from your nipples, moving to kiss up your chest, leaning small hickies as he trailed up. His hand tangled in the back of your hair as he met your lips once more. You whimpered into his mouth when he pinched your nipple. Your hands searched for something to grab, settling on his still clothed shoulder.

“Your turn,” You panted. “Take it off.”

“Your wish is my command.” He smiled as he sat back, pulling the shirt off and over his head. He pushed his hair back, the strands falling back over his eyes. You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the muscles of his pecs under the soft skin. Your fingers ghosted over his nipples, a smirk painting your face as his chest shook with a sharp breath.

It didn’t take long for Yeonjun to have you on your back, wedged between your legs in the cramped space. His fingers are making hasty work of the buttons on your jeans, finally pulling them off your legs in a few quick tugs. His hands traced up your thighs, feeling the soft flesh under his finger tips.

“Yeonjun, please.” You begged. “Need you, want you to fuck me.”

He hummed in response, taking his bottom lip into his mouth as he pulled his sweatpants down to his thighs, cock falling free. “You want this?” He rubbed his cock over your clothed heat. “Tell me how bad you want this.”

You groaned as he focused some attention on your clit. Even through the thin fabric, the feeling was incredible. “Please, I need you so bad.” You whined and pressed your hips up, pressing against him for some more friction. “I’m so wet for you, I don’t think I can wait any longer, Junnie.”

It took half a second for Yeonjun to, quite literally, rip your underwear from your sticky heat. The now destroyed underwear flew under one of the seats as he tossed them away, leaning down to capture you in a kiss as he roughly pushed into you.

A loud, guttural moan ripped it way out of your throat at the same time that Yeonjun let out a sigh. He pulled away from the kiss, opting to rest his forehead on yours to look in your eyes. He adjusted his hips slightly, the new angle caused his cock to rest in the perfect spot, making you involuntarily clench around him.

“Let me know when I can move, ok?”

You took a few deep breaths, adjusting to the unfamiliar feeling. Your best friends cock was nestled in you, in places you didn’t even know could be touched. You nodded your head, giving Yeonjun the ok to start moving.

He rocked his hips forward, slowly at first, grinding against you in the most sinful way. You could feel your cheeks turning pink at the soft squelches coming from where you two met.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Yeonjun grunted as he rolled his hips. “Just, slipping all over my cock.” His head dipped down to nip at your collarbone. You couldn’t help but turn your neck, giving him better access. “You’re soaking me, making a fucking mess.”

You whimpered as he began to move faster. The waves of pleasure going through you made you believe you weren’t going to last long, Yeonjun was fucking you too good. He was hitting every spot perfectly, tiny grunts and sighs coming out of him as he worked towards his own orgasm.

“Fuck, I want you to come first.” He slipped his hand between the two of you, fingers searching for your clit. You reached up, tangling your hand in the back of his hair and pulled him down. He met you with an open mouthed kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with urgency. Your teeth clashed a few times in the heated kiss but it only made you kiss him harder, messier.

“A-ah,” Your voice wavered as Yeonjun made contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Ah, fuck!” You groaned loudly, hands reaching to dig your fingers into his back, thighs, anything within reach.

“There it is.” He smirked, sitting back up slightly to tower over you, still rubbing your clit. He rocked forward a little faster, matching his hand with his hips. “Gonna come for me, pretty? I wanna see what you look like when you come.”

“Don’t stop.” Your entire body felt like it was on fire, your legs were trembling, hips pushing up for something, anything. Waves went through your body. You could feel your heart racing, the nervous ball in your stomach expanding. It wasn’t until Yeonjun took his free hand and pushed your legs back, holding them as close to your chest as he could, and gave another thrust that it all fell apart.

The waves flew down your stomach and you could feel wetness dribbling. Your eyes rolled back as Yeonjun pushed you through your orgasm. The spasming muscles pushed him to his own orgasm and he hurriedly pulled out, finishing on your lower stomach.

The two of you sat in silence as you both came down and tried to catch your breaths. Yeonjun reached over the seats to grab some discarded napkins and gently wiped you down, muttering small apologies as he wiped your most sensitive areas. After discarding the napkins and pulling his pants back up, he found his way on top of you again, this time in a gently crushing cuddle.

“I’d say this was the most exciting night of my life, Y/N.”

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syneilesis · 6 months

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[fic] Coffee Break

Coffee Break

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link

You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.

A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.

The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.

It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)

The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.

“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.

“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”

“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”

Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.

“Good morning!” you chirp.

He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”

“For you.”

He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.

“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.

“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”

“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”

“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”

It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.

And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”

You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”

Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”

“And making you good coffee!”

“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”

“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”

Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.

When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.

He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.

“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”

A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.

“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”

“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”

“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.

“Oh! I've read that before.”

“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”

“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”

“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”

Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.

It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.

“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.

He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.

It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.

From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—

Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.

Oh dear, this won't do.

You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace shen xinghui #love and deepspace xavier #fic #my fic #shen xinghui #shen xinghui my beloved #i'm obsessed with this man #this won't be the only fic i'll write for him and for this game

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animasola86 · 8 months

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Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy reader insert #reader insert

460 notes · View notes

eetherealgoddess · 5 months

Text

Before you continue, this ends dark as hell so I’m gonna warn you rn!!! Hope you like it anyway! ♡︎♡︎

ꨄEscaping Bonten is for Scrapsꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Assassin Au

❦You are an assassin that’s after a target Bonten already has their paws on❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Escaping Bonten is for Scraps

You eye around the busy nightclub, pushing through the crowd as you search for your assigned target. Eyebrows furrowed as your nose scrunches at the thick tobacco smell mixed with alcohol and a variety of cologne and perfume.

“Where is this guy?” You hiss, shoving a drunk person to the side as you head to the back of the building. Once you push the doors open, you see the tall staircase, sighing before stepping on.

Why did I have to get assigned to a club?

It’s not that you were against the party scene, it’s just not ideal for a mission to find someone you need to kill. Your boss chose you for the assignment created by a bitter divorcee. You roll your eyes as you remember the file stating, “Please murder my cheating ex husband.” Of course, your company is underground and perfect for not being caught, though why risk going to prison over a cheating spouse?

Fortunately, this should be fairly quick. The soon to be deceased spouse is known for his drinking habit, speaking belligerently as he drunkenly walks from bar to bar which makes him an easy target. You followed him here, his third club of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him considering he is just minding his business and drinking on his lonesome. Sure, he’s bitter as well and is a slob but it’s probably just a down point in his life.

At least I’ll put him out of his misery.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, noticing that the whole floor is empty, you pull your gun out, readying it to use. You hold it down to your side as you walk from room to room, searching for your victim. When you see that the whole upper stairs is empty, you hide your gun, and walk towards the exit of the room you just entered. Your eyes widened when you heard a scream coming from behind you.

You turn around and quickly move to the window, squatting, hiding yourself behind the wall so the people outside couldn’t see you. Easing your head up, you peeked to the outside. Standing at the back of the building, a group of men in suits hover around a kneeling man who’s covering his head as one of the men slams his foot against his side, causing him to fall over. You notice a smaller man who stood in the middle of the suited men walk closer to the male on the ground.

Your eyebrows raise when the man is forced to put his arms down as the shorter man crouches in front of him, realizing the guy is your target.

“What did this guy get himself into?” You whisper to yourself before moving quickly to crack the window so you can decipher what’s occurring.

“You owe us a lot of money, Nakamura.” A man with two blonde strands says, his wide eyes staring deeply at the victim.

“I-I know! I’m going th-through a divorce. I j-just need more time!” He coughs out blood in between his words. The short man in front of him leans in.

“You’ve wasted my time.” He stands up before moving back, motioning for the purple haired man holding the baton to walk forward.

He swings his arms back before slamming them down with a smirk on his face. He repeatedly hits the man over and over again with so much force that blood splatters on his own suit. The man cries out in pain as he becomes light headed.

You wince as you watch this painful sight.

Damn, now I’m feeling even more bad for this guy. I think I’m just going to go ahead and shoot him. Help him out, forreal.

Standing up completely, you aim at the man’s head perfectly with the gun. Without needing the other guy to stop beating him, you pull the trigger, a shot ringing out loudly. The bullet penetrates his head, killing him on the spot. The men, startled, looked around their surroundings as the pink haired man turned to the window, his blue eyes catching yours before you turned on your heel and ran.

“Fuck, he saw me!” You hiss as you run down the stairs, gun hidden as you push through the crowd.

Fortunately, it looks as though you all are into some shady business, though that doesn’t mean you want to catch their attention. You run out of the exit and rush to your car parked at the side of the building.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You rush to unlock the car before hopping in. Before you could close the door, a hand blocks the door. Your wide eyes meet purple orbs before you're pulled out of the car by your shirt. Before you could grab your gun, your front is forced against the car as your gun is grabbed and aimed at your head. The man with the purple mullet holds your arms behind your back with one hand. Before you could say anything, the butt of the gun meets your head, darkness engulfing your vision.

When you first wake up, your eyes meet a dimly lit warehouse, a throbbing pain at the side of your head causes you to pull against the restraints you didn’t know were there to touch your head. Groaning your eyes, the rope strategically tied around your ankles strapping you to the chair.

“Damn.” You breathe out. The click of a gun sounded next to your head causing you to make eye contact with the blue-eyed man you saw before.

“You’re an assassin working for an underground company, right Y/n?” You look up to see the short man sitting on a chair in front of you at a distance. The men stood around him, eyeing you.

“Who am I answering to?” You question, resulting in the gun being pushed against your head harder causing you to wince, the spot where you were once hit feeling raw under the barrel of the weapon.

“I don’t repeat myself.” The sunken eyed man states, his white hair hovering over his face.

“Yes.” You spit out, frustration being the only emotion to decipher at the moment.

“You work for Bonten.” You gasp at the familiar name.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The gun smacks against your face, forcing your head to lean to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

“Watch your mouth.” The pink haired man growls, using one hand to force your head back in place before replacing the barrel in the same spot.

“You will keep your assassin title and you will work under the executives.” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Or what?” You hiss. The pale man signals for the taller short haired man to walk towards you holding his baton. He smiles before pulling it back and slamming it against your stomach. You lean forward before coughing out blood.

“You die.” Your new boss states.

A few months pass before you’re completely used to the yakuza scene. There are times when you wonder what exactly did they see in you to ‘hire’ you as an assassin working under the executives. It wasn’t a hard job, basically like the one you were used to besides the power dynamic. Although you worked under an old boss, he treated everyone equally and you had normal coworkers who you’d go out to the bars with occasionally. You were free to live your own life as long as you didn’t get caught.

Working under Bonten, you weren’t allowed the same freedom as your executives. Your job title was assassin but considering their low respect for you, sometimes you were a maid, assistant, butler, etc. At least that’s what it felt like when you had to run errands for them that didn’t involve shooting a bullet in someone’s head. Sure it’s nicer than killing but who wants to work to serve a bunch of disrespectful men?

Not to mention, you weren’t allowed outside without being accompanied by one of the executives. Of course, the executives you wouldn’t mind being around such as Mochi, Kakucho, Koko, and Takeomi weren’t the ones who accompanied you. It was always the Haitani brothers, Kazutora, or Sanzu. Even when you’re supposed to be off the clock you were always around at least one of them. You no longer have your own apartment and have to stay in a designated room in a penthouse that holds all of your rooms, though everyone else owns their own homes.

Currently, you are sitting in the vip section of one of the Haitani brother’s clubs, arms crossed along with your leg as you lean back on the couch. Kazutora plops next to you with a drink in hand along with one of the strippers in the other, her bare breasts out as she holds onto him.

“You don’t look so happy, Y/n. Should we have taken you to a male strip club?” He taunts, finding amusement in her pouty face.

“I’m glad you find humor in my suffering. I just want to go to bed.” You respond.

A dip on your other side causes you to turn your head to meet Sanzu who has a speck of white dust under his nose. He wipes using his sleeve before handing you a cup of alcohol.

“Live a little, yeah?” You raise a brow as you push the drink away. You had to admit how interesting it was to see the different contrasts between the infamous mad dog. One minute he’s all serious for ‘his king’ and the next he’s sniffing angel’s dust off of a stripper's ass. Interesting indeed.

“I don’t know what you put in that.” You state before turning away from him.

“Then take this. It’s just champagne.” Rin smirks as he hands you another glass from a separate chair, man spreading as he smokes a blunt.

“And I should trust you, why?” You roll your eyes before standing up.

“Where are you off to?” Ran asks as his hand grips the butt cheek of the stripper sucking his neck.

“Bathroom.” You state before walking out. You eye the guards before heading to the restroom.

You walk to the sink and lean over, staring at yourself in the mirror as you think your life over and what brought you to this point. You swiftly turn your head when someone walks into the bathroom. You notice the woman is wearing a poorly done wig with a coat on. You contemplate whether or not you should knock her out and disguise yourself so you can make a run for it.

My morals have always been skewed anyway. I’m sorry lady.

Before she could walk into the stall, you grab her and press her pressure point, catching her before she falls. You undo her coat and set the purse on the ground, lying her head on it gently before pulling her wig off. Setting the wig on as well as the coat, you walk out of the bathroom.

You walk at a steady pace to look anything but suspicious while keeping your head down. When you successfully pass the guards you make a run for it, rushing out of the club and finding a taxi to pick you up, throwing your phone out of the window for safety from a tracking device.

Your adrenaline pumps as the hairs on your body stand. You breathe heavily as you give the taxi man the direction to your old company’s headquarters. When you got there, you ran into the building in search of your boss. When you find his office, you push the doors open and run towards the man who looks at you with shock.

A year passes and he helps you back on your feet. Staying as an assassin would have been dangerous considering the first place Bonten searched for you was the headquarters. Fortunately, he has a family who owns different businesses so you currently work at a bakery on the farthest side of a city hours away from where you used to reside.

One night, you were cleaning up the floors, closing the store. You had already locked the door so you were confused when you heard someone entering the building. Looking up, you dropped the broom when you recognized Mikey standing in front of the door with a gun pointed at you. Before you could move, a hand wrapped around your mouth as someone grabbed your arms, pulling you against a chest. You struggle in their hold.

Your eyes widen when you see your boss and his family consisting of his wife, two of their adult children, and one child being dragged in wrapped in rope and bags over their heads. You scream against the hand.

“Relax and everything will go smoother.” The voice she recognized as Kazutora states behind her.

Once the other men force everyone on their knees in front of her, they pull the bags off their heads.

She screams once more when she makes eye contact with all of them, tears running down her face for the first time at the face of death.

No they can’t do this! This can’t be happening!

Complying to Mikey’s order, Kazutora removes his hand from her mouth as he locks arms with hers. She pulls against him as she tries to release herself, to no avail. The Haitani brothers watch in amusement as they stand behind the two adult kids. Sanzu stands behind the child as Mikey moves to stand behind the boss.

“This is your fault.” He says to you, glaring before he sets his gun to the man’s head. The child cries along with the mother and the children. The man’s eyes are wide as he looks to the side in the direction of his family. They were prevented from talking, mouths bound shut as they squeal and groan.

“Mikey! M-Mikey please don’t do this! I-I’ll stay this time I swear to god! Please… just kill me or something d-don’t take it out on them!” You cry out, devastated by the display as the guilt takes over.

“Sanzu.” He states. Everyone watches as he sets the barrel of the gun on the child’s head, pulling the trigger before anyone could think. There was a pause as the shot rang out, the blood and brains splattering against his siblings, the wall, and the floor.

“STOP! NO MORE!” You let out a blood curdling scream. You pull and pull against Kazutora as he grips you tighter.

Your boss wails against his restraints angrily, falling over when he attempts to stand up, lying pitifully on his side as he kicks his feet and pulls against the rope. The wife and their children cry out, tears dropping fast as they squeeze their eyes shut.

“Haitanis.”

“NO! NO MIKE-!” The shots rang out, more blood and brains splattering as their limp bodies fall to the ground, one sibling with half of their head gone as well as the other along with an eyeball, their blood reaching their mother as she completely bends over and cries.

Mikey aims at the wife shooting her twice before her limp body falls, the husband still as he weeps for his deceased family. Kazutora allows you to drop to your knees. Hands placed on the ground as you become light headed. Finally, vomit shoots up your throat as you release the contents on the ground. Gagging and belching as your body shakes, wet with sweat.

This must be my karma for all of the wrong doings. This must be how people feel when they see their loved ones die.

“I-I’m so sorry, Akihiko. I’m so fucking sorry.” You whine out, tears and snot falling as you become a wreck. He looks at you with despair.

“Please, escape the-!” Before he could finish his sentence, Mikey had already blown his brains out.

You gaze at the messy floor with a blurry vision and wide eyes. Footsteps stop in front of you, missing the vomit. Mikey crouches down and pulls you by the chin to look up at him, gun still in the other hand.

“If you try to leave again, I’ll blow your legs off.”

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