All's Fair in Smut and FanFiction

F/25, I'm apart of a lot of Fandoms. Currently, my obsessions are parkouring all over the place but my main ones are the DCEU and MCU. Masterlist Feel free to message me or send me an ask. Send me a request and I'll see what I can do ❤

[flightsoffandom]

Friendly PSA

I'm trying to write my Reader as Gender-Neutral, but sometimes I default to female. So if I have written something that you would like to see written with different pronouns please let me know and I would be happy to post an edited version for you. <3

[tinfoileddd]

there's nothing more beautiful than a friendship u can go perv4perv with

[legitspidey]

All his life, Benjamin Poindexter has had his autonomy taken from him. Snatched away by those who claim to know what’s best for him, and by those who don’t even bother to pretend. He’s always felt powerless to do anything about it.

Which is why he keeps himself so guarded. He never lets anyone close, so he can’t have his newfound freedom disappear.

But the problem with that is that Dex craves companionship. Not the cheesy type that has you go out for brunch or hold hands in the park or shit like that.

He wants someone to share himself with. The real him. The one that revels in violence and the pooling of blood and the satisfaction of striking someone directly between the eyes and seeing their already lifeless body fall to the ground.

Now that he has the ability to, Dex wants to decide who he hands himself over to. He wants to pick who has control over him. He wants to choose who gets to wrap their hands around his neck and cut off his oxygen. He doesn’t need to know if they’ll let him breathe, he is satisfied with the knowledge that he let himself be choked, that he chose to be there, that he made the decision to relinquish control.

[dexdiaries]

on those nights where dex is fairly rough with you he'll often disappear for a while after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, leaving you fucked-out and splayed naked on the bed. within a few seconds of his departure, though, you can hear the water running in the bathroom – the rich scent of lavender filling the master bedroom.

too tired to open your eyes, you can hear him pad out of the room quietly. cabinets open and close gently, the sink runs for a few seconds before he's padding back into the room and the bed dips. his hand reaches for you, smoothing the damp hair off your forehead and smiling sheepishly at you. slowly your eyes flutter open and meet his, he's holding out a painkiller and glass of water muttering "take this for me, yeah?"

when he's satisfied you've had enough to drink he'll scoop you into his arms, carrying you into the warm bathroom. the tub is almost full, bubbles sticking to the sides, steam rising.

the water is always too hot when he goes to dip your body in making you whine in protest, quietly cursing him for attempting to burn your skin clean off. "'s good for you, baby. gotta relax," he's climbing in right behind you, settling you against his chest. "don't wan' you to be sore.." he's so quiet, lest he disturb the peace he's attempting to bring you after treating you so crudely.

when you wince or whine, dex'll mutter apologies into your skin and massage your tense muscles. "was too rough, tonight, darling - 'm sorry,"

and he revels your contented moans and hums as he works your body, cleans off all the filth from your time in bed with him.

then, he just can't help but start getting worked up again – you're just so pretty, so pliable and soft in his arms. he'll snake a hand to your abused cunt, the other coming to cup your breast, trailing soft kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. your soft whimpers only spur him on, rubbing delicate circles on your clit and pinching your nipple.

you can feel his hard on beneath you and despite how badly you want to help you're just so, so sleepy.. but dex doesn't mind, bringing you over the edge one more time before massaging your thighs.

by now the waters cooled down; dex climbs out and brings you with him, wrapping a towel around your body and drying you before setting you on the closed toilet seat lid. he pulls on his own boxers and turns towards the clothes he set out for you on the counter, coming over to pull one of his shirts he knows you love over your body. he brushes your hair tenderly and leaves soft kisses all over your face while your heavy eyes close, instinctively leaning into his touch.

when he's happy with his work he pulls you to him again, your legs wrapping around his waist before he's dipping down to set you on the soft sheets of your shared bed. your eyes open slowly again, glancing at dex once more and seeing his smile - his eyes so full of love for you - before you smile and cuddle further into the bed.

dex climbs into bed next to you, body turned towards yours and bringing a big hand to rest on your shoulder as he admires you. when your breathing deepens and your face softens dex can't help but pull you into him, pressing your bodies together and kissing your forehead before he finally lets his eyes drift shut.

[onlineqtgirl]

obsessed with your voice dex would totally jerk himself off when otp with you.

you’d be laying on your bed, talking dex’s ears off about your frustrating work day. you’d hear the occasional, “mhm..” “oh man that sucks..” “im sorry that happened to you baby.” from dex as you blabber. soon dex becomes quiet, his responses lessen, and you hear his breathing become heavier and louder. “hey babe, are you okay?” you ask, curious as to his change in demeanor. on the other side of the phone, dex is fisting himself as he pumps his hand up and down his cock dripping of pre cum. “m-mhm.. just keep talking baby…” he groans. dex tries his best to hold in his moans but he can’t help but let a few slip out. you try to ignore it, playing coy. sometimes you stop talking for a new seconds to hear his needy whimpers for you. “b-baby… where’d you g-go..?” as the slick sound of his hand going down his cock fills the background noise. dex’s chest rises as he waits for you to keep talking before he jerks himself off again, edging himself to the cadence of your arousing voice. you hear him picking up his pace and his heavy breathing taking over his audio. you hear a groan and know he finished all over his stomach. his cum spewing from his sensitive tip and his head thrown back in pleasure. “thank you baby… thank you so much..” dex says breathlessly.

[musingsofheaven]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ﹙ masterlist ⋮ request ˓ ask .ᐟ ﹚

HOUSE TRAINED

summary: Your approval means more to Benjamin Poindexter than anything Fisk could ever offer him. He’ll get on his knees and crawl back to you without hesitation if that’s what it takes to make you look at him the same way again, even if it means throwing away every ounce of pride.

pairings: benjamin “dex” poindexter x afab!reader

warnings: 11.8k words. mature themes. masturbation. cunnilingus. fingering. handjob. blowjob. throat fucking. murder mention. criminal organization. manipulation. power imbalance. unhealthy relationship dynamics. codependency. switch / versatile characters. degradation. praise kink. humiliation. orgasm control. dirty talk. face slapping. hair pulling. rough handling. read responsibly.

note: he’s pretty pathetic here, i think we all want to see that… reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You have spent years working right beside Wilson Fisk. He trusts you without hesitation because you earned that position through loyalty. Managing the organization for him requires being the bridge between Fisk and the people working beneath him. People who need access to him have to go through you first. You hear the desperation in their voices whenever they beg for an audience. Sometimes being that bridge gives you satisfaction since everyone knows he is the man in charge. Being someone he completely trusts gives you access to handle sensitive information and coordinate operations before those requests ever reach his ears. You make sure the plans reach the right people without mistakes, because if something falls apart, you are the first person expected to fix it. You earned your job through results rather than ruling by fear. Fear breeds cowards, but competence keeps the empire standing while Fisk values competence above other traits.

You have proven time after time that you can solve problems before they get messy. You rarely wait to be told about what needs doing because you already know his expectations. You understand his demands just by watching the way his jaw tightens. Anticipating his needs requires you to notice details other people overlook, and noticing those details means you catch subordinates when they stumble over basic instructions. Watching them fail means you routinely tie up loose ends before they become liabilities for the business. Leaving a messy trail guarantees an early grave, but you will never ever let that happen. You will burn the evidence away until there is no proof to trace back to him, yet some evidence can’t be burned or buried, so you make sure it never speaks again. Handling that dirty work yourself feels like something you must do because others inside the syndicate only rely on clumsy brute force or intimidation.

You view their loud displays of anger as a weakness rather than a threat. True power means knowing when a conversation has reached its end without needing to raise your voice. You handle the jobs yourself without hesitation, as having blood on your hands is something you refuse to deny. You refuse to lie about the monster you became to survive, since guilt stopped bothering you a long time ago. It no longer drives your decisions, so you never feel the need to remind people who you are. You see their shoulders stiffen the second you enter a room, and the sudden drop in their voices tells you what you need to know about their fear because power doesn’t need to be flashy. You prefer to keep your influence out of sight until the moment it matters, as bragging about authority only makes you a bigger target. You don’t have to shove it in their faces to get respect when the way they scramble to follow your instructions serves as proof enough.

Any hesitation disappears the second you look their way. People understand that ignoring your orders is the same as ignoring Fisk himself. They know the punishment for crossing you will be the same as crossing him. That fear makes them shut their mouths when they leave, and their silence ensures very few people outside know your real name. Keeping your identity a secret prevents people from understanding your influence over the city. They spend years trying to figure out the criminal empire. Reading their flawed reports proves they rarely realize how many pieces happened through your hand as they chase the wrong suspects while you orchestrate the operations from the dark. You prefer keeping out of the spotlight while other men take the attention. Letting them take the credit saves you from being targeted. You have no interest in fame or building a new empire of your own. Your work is for the stability of the organization.

The desire for power did not appeal to you as much as the desire for control alongside this life because it gives you a purpose. You firmly believe loyalty is proven through actions rather than empty promises. You have spent years proving where your loyalty belongs. That proven loyalty is exactly why overseeing the personnel takes up a large part of your time, and Fisk trusts your judgment enough to leave the daily management in your hands. He focuses on expanding his empire while you ensure every worker serves their purpose. Everyone beneath him has a specific job to do, and you make sure they never step out of line. You watch over the employees to ensure the operation runs smoothly, and you always review their backgrounds to understand their capabilities. You understand that loyalty can’t be demanded of everyone in exactly the same way, since some are motivated by fear, while others care about money or ambition.

One of your skills is remembering details about the people working for the business, and you treat them all as replaceable tools to maintain order. The syndicate survives because you figure out what drives someone before managing them, and that responsibility extends to Benjamin Poindexter. You know who he is from his history long before ever meeting him, and you memorize his reputation without forgetting the role he fills within the business. His records mention his accuracy just as often as they mention his psychiatric history, but neither detail changes your opinion of him. Knowing those details is part of your job because you refuse to oversee someone without knowing how they think. The reports reveal a pattern you use to keep the organization running efficiently since Benjamin performs best when someone gives him structure alongside direction. He seeks approval from authority figures and becomes unstable whenever that approval disappears.

You ignore his personal issues as long as he does exactly what he’s told. You adjust your approach by giving clear instructions and maintaining consistent expectations to ensure he becomes a reliable asset. Praise is never excessive while criticism is never emotional because you know inconsistency creates unnecessary problems. You never view your approach as manipulation since it’s simply effective management. He begins responding to your routine faster than you expect as he handles the messy jobs other people fail to finish without causing problems for the business. He starts completing assignments exactly as instructed while paying attention to the details you point out. He always waits for your opinion before considering a job finished, and you see it as proof your methods are working perfectly. You have never concerned yourself with building personal relationships inside the business, so you don’t see him as a friend.

You see no reason to treat him any differently than anyone else since you care only about his usefulness and view him as just a weapon for Fisk to use. Keeping a professional distance has always made your job easier, even when small acknowledgments gradually become enough to shape his behavior. A simple nod after a successful assignment keeps him in line, and you allow him to stand at your side during meetings. None of those gestures mean anything unusual to you because you offer them for a purpose. Benjamin begins attaching far more meaning to them than you ever intended. The people around you notice the difference before you do because Benjamin rarely questions your decisions. He follows your instructions without hesitation, and some coworkers assume Fisk placed him under the only person capable of controlling him. Others joke about Benjamin being your favorite operative, but you pay little attention to the comments.

You believe you found the most effective way to manage him without realizing you’re becoming the center of his need for approval. The desperate need for validation makes his failure today unacceptable because the plan was supposed to end with Karen Page dead. You had already removed every possible complication you could predict before handing the final part to the one person you believed could not fail. Karen had survived far too many situations she shouldn’t have survived, and you were tired of adjusting your plans because of her luck. This assignment wasn’t just another routine job for him to complete. This was Benjamin’s chance to fix his mistake with Foggy Nelson, where he almost got caught and exposed the entire operation. Completing this task was his way to prove you were right to keep defending him to Fisk. Karen Page being alive and breathing completely ruins that effort.

You hear the news of his failure before he can make an effort to tell you, so you make sure you are already waiting inside the safe house when he finally arrives. You hear the lock click before the door swings open to reveal him standing in the hallway. You don’t bother greeting him or asking if he took any damage during the fight. He steps inside the room, knowing immediately from your expression that you aren’t interested in hearing his excuses. Coming close doesn’t matter when the target walks away, and it will take a long time to get that chance to put them on the ground again. The job wasn’t finished, so whatever he has to say means absolutely nothing to you. You stare straight at him while he closes the door behind him and looks uncomfortable under your glare. You let him take a few short steps inside the room before you confront him about the outcome. You don’t raise your voice at him because you have never needed to yell to get your point across.

The anger is already obvious in the way you look at him. You cross your arms over your chest while waiting for him to speak first. He refuses to meet your eyes, so you decide to break the silence yourself. “Tell me exactly how Karen Page managed to walk away from you,” you demand in a calm tone while watching his reaction. Benjamin stops walking right in the middle of the room as he finally looks up at you. He opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it again when he sees the disappointment on your face. You know he hates failing you more than he hates failing the actual mission itself. “She had help,” Benjamin replies while staring at a spot on the wall right next to your head. That excuse does nothing to improve your mood since you explicitly told him to anticipate interference. “I don’t care who helped her because you were supposed to eliminate anyone who got in your way,” you state plainly while watching his jaw clench.

You take a step closer to him so he is forced to actually look at you. “He was waiting for me,” Benjamin says while shifting his weight nervously under your gaze. He knows he messed up, and your lack of sympathy makes his failure even worse. “Daredevil showed up before I could take the shot,” he adds to explain the fight on the rooftop. You observe his expression as he talks about the interference. The more he talks, the less interested you become in the details because every sentence sounds like another excuse instead of accountability. You remember giving him the specific instruction to expect interference before the operation even began. You chose him over everyone else for this job because he was supposed to adapt to any obstacle. He was supposed to overcome the problem and finish the job anyway. All you hear is him trying to convince you that the outcome was unavoidable.

“She escaped while he kept me pinned down,” Benjamin continues to defend his failure. He speaks fast, as if an explanation will make you forgive him. A short laugh escapes you before you shake your head in disbelief. You throw his own words back in his face to make him hear how pathetic it sounds coming from someone with his reputation. “A blind man,” you say while looking into his eyes. “You lost your target because of a blind man,” you repeat to mock his excuse. His jaw clenches tight before he looks away from you. The thought that Benjamin Poindexter came back defeated because of a blind vigilante makes you feel insulted. “He isn’t just some regular guy,” Benjamin argues to defend his loss. You refuse to accept that excuse when you put your own standing on the line for him. You close the distance between you two until you are standing right in front of him so he has no room to step back.

Benjamin is the person you defended when no one else in the organization wanted to take the risk. You stood up for him after the Foggy Nelson disaster. You cleaned up the consequences to protect his place within the syndicate. You made yourself responsible for him to convince everyone his mistake wasn’t who he was. You gave him this chance to fix things, but he repays that effort by coming back empty-handed. “I defended you,” you remind him while holding his gaze. Benjamin’s throat bobs as he stares at you. “I know you did,” he mutters while keeping his hands tight at his sides. “I stood in that room to tell them they were wrong about you,” you say as you watch his expression fall. You risked your own position for him, and he makes your judgment look foolish in front of Fisk. You refuse to let him look away from you. “Do you have any idea what you just made me look like?” you ask while letting the anger show in your voice.

He opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. He clenches his teeth together as he tries to figure out a better response. He realizes this is much worse than just missing a target. You stare at him while he struggles to find an excuse that matters, but he finds nothing because you both know he ruined the one chance you gave him. “I know I messed up, but I can still fix this,” he says to salvage whatever trust you still have in him. He keeps his hands at his sides as he tries to find a way to fix the situation. He takes a breath before speaking again, “Just give me another chance to go back there-” You uncross your arms to lift a hand, then you slap him across the face with all your strength before he can finish another excuse. You don’t strike him out of pure anger. You only do it to make him stop talking. The room becomes dead silent, and you watch his face turn to the side from the impact.

He stands there looking surprised because slapping him in the face was the last thing he expected you to do. You don’t give him a single second to recover when you grab his jaw with your hand. Your nails dig into his cheeks hard enough that he has no choice but to face you. You want him to see how angry you are right now since he has never seen this side of you before. You never raise your voice at him, which makes the situation feel much worse for him. “Look right at me when I’m talking to you,” you demand while pressing your thumb against his cheekbone. He doesn’t look away from you, and his pulse races under your palm. “You don’t get another chance until I decide you deserve one,” you state while your fingers dig deeper into his jaw. He needs to understand his place before he tries asking that you let his mistake slip. “That bitch should’ve been dead,” you tell him as you force his head up a little higher. You are tired of changing every plan just because Karen Page survives every attack.

She is a problem that should’ve been eliminated months ago, and this assignment was supposed to put a stop to her interference, yet Benjamin let her walk out of his sight. Your nails bite harder into his cheek to make him listen to every word. “I am so fucking tired of cleaning up after Karen Page,” you say without yelling. You wonder how a reporter manages to survive a highly trained killer. “Every time I think she’s finally gone, someone gives me another reason to deal with her,” you add as you glare at him. You observe his chest rise and fall rapidly as if he’s trying to calm himself. “Do you have any idea how much time I’ve wasted because of that bitch?” you ask while pulling his face a little closer. He just had to put a bullet in her to end the problem, but he failed you. You have to fix his mistake yourself today. You keep your hand tight around his jaw to bring up why you trusted him in the first place.

“Bullseye,” you say to him so he remembers his own title. Everyone knows him as the man who never misses. You expected him to live up to that reputation tonight instead of returning empty-handed. “Maybe I gave you too much credit,” you state as you watch his posture stiffen. Benjamin doesn’t pull away from your hand even though your nails hurt him. He says nothing to defend himself and just waits for you to finish talking. He knows interrupting you again will only make things worse, so he accepts the pain. “I know I failed,” Benjamin says while his breathing picks up. It sickens you to see a trained professional acting like a desperate child. You want him to realize apologies mean nothing when a job is left unfinished. “Send me back right now,” he begs for a chance to fix the mess he created. He looks at you like a stray dog begging for a scrap of approval. You refuse to reward his incompetence with an immediate yes.

“I won’t come back until she’s dead,” he insists in a rushed voice to prove he can still be useful. He assumes finishing the assignment late will erase the disrespect he brought to your name tonight. “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he promises as he leans into your touch. You wonder if he hears how pathetic he sounds. Empty words do nothing to rebuild the reputation you risked for his sake. “Just give me the order and I-” he starts to say before you cut him off. You squeeze his jaw much harder until his words stop right in the middle of the sentence. He winces from the pain, but he refuses to step back. You have zero interest in hearing another useless guarantee. “You still don’t get it,” you say while shaking your head at him. The problem goes far beyond a single surviving reporter. “This stopped being about Karen the second you walked back in here,” you tell him as you force his face closer.

He needs to understand failing a mission is bad, but making you look stupid is unforgivable. “You need to realize the true price of your mistake,” you state while watching him struggle to figure out the real issue. “Your incompetence makes me look like a fucking idiot for trusting you,” you tell him so he understands exactly what he ruined. You refuse to let anyone else think you made a mistake by keeping him around. “I put my own reputation on the line when I swore you were worth the risk,” you state while keeping your hand firm on his face. You convinced everyone he deserved another chance after his last disaster. You put your own judgment behind him so he could keep his place in the organization. “You knew I stood up for you, yet you still repay me with this pathetic failure,” you say as you observe his expression change. The harsh insults never seemed to bother him, but hearing how deeply he humiliated you finally gets a reaction.

He always focused on proving himself to Fisk without realizing you were the only shield keeping him alive inside the syndicate. “God, I was fucking stupid to believe you were better,” you spit out while glaring at him. Benjamin finally understands what you are really saying. “Please don’t regret choosing me,” he begs as his chest rises faster. The panic in his voice shows exactly how terrified he is of losing your protection. “I never meant to make you look like a fool in front of them,” he says to salvage your trust in him. His eyes search your face for any sign of forgiveness to keep you from turning your back on him. He stares at you like a dog waiting for its owner to fix the mess. “I’ll make it right. You’ll never have to defend me again,” he promises to convince you he can fix this. His hand lifts for a second, as if he wants to reach for your wrist. He stops himself before his fingers can even brush against you.

He knows better than to make another move without your permission. All he can do is stand there and let you hold his head in place. You refuse to let go of his jaw even when he looks at you with that desperate expression. “I have no reason to keep protecting you after tonight,” you state while pushing your thumb harder into his cheekbone. You have already spent way too much time cleaning up his mistakes. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t replace you right now,” you demand in a cold tone. You want him to realize how close he is to losing the only person who covers for him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t walk out that door and let you face the consequences alone,” you add to make the threat perfectly clear. He knows he will fall apart the second you stop telling him what to do. “Because right now I am struggling to remember why I ever gave a shit about you,” you tell him while watching him panic.

The thought of you walking away terrifies him more than the anger in your voice. He needs your orders to keep himself grounded, so losing you means losing his purpose. “You’re the only one who understands how to use me,” Benjamin answers while maintaining eye contact. You can hear the pure desperation behind his words. He sounds completely willing to do whatever it takes to stay under your control. “I’ll do exactly what you want without asking questions,” he swears to secure his spot at your side. He wants to prove his obedience right here so you don’t replace him with someone else. He doesn’t care about Fisk or the organization anymore because his only concern is your approval. “Tell me how to fix this, and I’ll do it,” he pleads while standing under your hand. He waits for your command because he refuses to let you abandon him over one failed assignment. “You think you’re the only guy we have?” you ask in a cold tone while digging your fingers into his face.

You wonder if he actually believes his title makes him immune to consequences. “I can find a replacement to clean up your mess by tomorrow,” you tell him so he understands how fast you can throw him away. Your hand drops from his jaw the second he lunges forward to grab both of your hips. He catches you before you can step backward because he hates hearing how disposable he is to you. His hands hurt your waist, but you don’t break eye contact as he refuses to let you walk away from him tonight. He acts desperate to keep you close by dropping his head forward to hide his face right against your neck. “N-no. You can’t replace me,” Benjamin argues as his fingers dig deeper into the fabric of your shirt. You feel his breath against your neck when he speaks into your shoulder. “Nobody else can do what I do,” he insists in a panicked voice while shaking his head against you.

His desperation makes you want to laugh right in his face. You expect a trained killer to have at least a shred of dignity. “There is only one Bullseye,” he adds as he tries to convince you he is the only weapon Fisk will ever need. Hearing him use his own nickname sounds more like a plea than a threat. “I won’t fuck it up next time,” he promises while holding you tighter against him. He needs you to believe he can fix this failure. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he begs in a rushed breath. You wonder how much pride he is willing to lose to earn your forgiveness. Listening to him beg proves exactly who holds the power between you two. “You need me,” he says to convince you not to abandon him. You realize how much you owe him when he acts this pathetic for your approval. You shove his chest backward with enough force to make him stumble away from you. He loses his balance for a second before you grab a handful of his hair.

You yank his head backward so he is forced to stare straight into your face. “Ah- fuck,” he grunts, but he lets you drag him without fighting back. You want him to realize he has no room to negotiate with you right now. “Whatever I want?” you ask as your fingers tighten in his hair to keep his head pulled back. He gulps nervously before nodding as much as your hand allows. You take his desperate promise to heart to see how far he is willing to go. “Then get on your fucking knees,” you command without hesitation. He drops to the floor without waiting because he fears making you angry. You let go of his hair so you can grab his jaw again once he is down there. You angle his face upward so he has to look up at you from his knees. “Look at me,” you order while digging your thumb into his cheek. He keeps his eyes glued to yours as his life depends on it. “Prove you can be useful,” you demand while looking down at him.

Benjamin leans forward to rub his cheek harder into your hand. He turns his face to kiss your palm before he opens his mouth to take your thumb inside. He sucks on your finger to show you exactly how desperate he is for your attention. He keeps both of his hands at his sides while using only his mouth to please you. You watch him act like a pathetic animal begging for scraps. “Tell me how,” he mumbles against your fingers. You pull your hand away from his mouth so you can take a slow step backward across the floor. “Show me you know how to follow,” you order while looking down at him. He refuses to let any empty space exist between you, so he follows you by crawling forward on his knees. You observe him drag his knees across the floor without ever trying to stand up. His eyes never leave your face as he follows you across the room and keeps his hands to himself. You don’t stop taking those steps until the back of your legs brushes against the edge of the living room sofa.

You sit down on the cushions, and you spread your knees apart to give him access. He keeps crawling until he places himself right between your legs. He wraps both of his arms around your thighs so you can’t shove him away from you again. You look down at him while he kneels on the floor directly beneath you as he holds your legs tight enough to make sure you can’t push him back. He buries his face directly into your stomach to hide his expression from you. He holds your thighs tight while his hands slide upward to grab the fabric of your waistband. He takes a deep breath against you before he finally lifts his head back up. He looks up at you with his chin resting against your belly as he waits for your permission. He stares at you with pure desperation in his eyes. “Let me make it up to you,” he whispers against your shirt. He refuses to let go of your clothes until you tell him what to do next.

You run your fingers through his hair very slowly to keep your voice gentle because hearing you speak to him that way destroys his pride. He pulls his face away from your stomach just enough to put a little distance between you two. His hands move down to the buckle of your belt before he undoes it. “I gave you this job because I wanted you to be the one to do it for me,” you tell him as you watch his shoulders drop under your touch. “It makes me so sad that I trusted you with this,” you add while running your thumb across his cheek. He flinches at the disappointment in your tone, but he leaves his hands on your waist. You offer him a sympathetic smile as you look down at his face. He doesn’t like feeling inadequate, and he has a desperate need to prove he is good for something. He tilts his head back to look up at you right as his fingers shake against the fabric of your pants. He pops the button open before pulling the zipper all the way down.

“You tried so hard, but you just couldn’t manage it, could you?” you ask while letting him undress you. “I really wanted to be proud of you tonight, Dex,” you murmur as you stroke his hair again. He looks completely devastated by your words, but he refuses to get up off the floor. You sigh quietly like you are exhausted from defending him. He grabs the waistband of your pants right as you let out that breath. He leans back to give himself room to work the clothing down your legs. He pushes the fabric down your hips and thighs while you monitor him from above. “I tell everyone that you are my best guy,” you state as you run your nails over his scalp. He pauses to take a shaky breath. “Now they are going to think I was stupid for believing in you,” you say while watching his hands shake. He clutches your pants tighter as he stares up at your face. He reaches down to pull the pants over your ankles before he throws them onto the floor.

He leans forward again to hide his face right against your thigh. He presses a desperate kiss just above your knee to find some comfort. “I’m sorry... please don’t sound so disappointed,” he begs into your leg. “Please don’t replace me,” he pleads while shaking his head against you. He kisses your leg again to show his devotion. “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good,” he tells you as he holds your thighs. “I’ll do anything you want,” he promises in a rushed breath. He lifts his head from your leg to look right up at your face. His hands drag up your legs until his fingers hook underneath the elastic band of your underwear. He stares up at you while waiting for an answer. “Let me take care of you... please,” he whispers as he keeps eye contact. He sounds so desperate to prove his worth right here on the floor. “I can still be useful. Tell me I can take these off,” he insists while tugging on the waistband. You don’t say a word back to him, so he realizes he has to ask better.

He clenches the elastic band of your underwear as he stares up at your face. He refuses to pull the fabric down until you give him explicit permission to uncover you completely. “I just want to make you feel better,” he says from between your legs. He waits for your order since he refuses to make another mistake today. “Can I? Please?” he asks while looking up at you like a dog. You swat his hands away from your waistband before his fingers can slide your panties down. You grab his wrists, and you shove his arms straight down to his sides. “Did I ever give you permission to do that?” you ask while he stares up at you. He realizes he crossed a line, so he forces both hands behind his back to prove he knows how to follow orders. You check his posture to make sure he does what he is told. “You haven’t earned the right to have me tonight,” you state as you look down at his pathetic expression. A heavy swallow escapes him, and he refuses to move his arms from behind his back.

You grab a handful of his hair to yank his head forward until his face presses against your crotch. His breath hitches from the closeness, and he leaves his hands right where you told him to put them. He takes a deep breath against the fabric of your panties while he waits for your next command. “You have to work a lot harder if you want these off,” you tell him while tightening your hand in his hair. He shakes against your thighs because having you this close drives him crazy. “Don’t move your fucking hands from behind your back,” you warn him to ensure he doesn’t try to touch you again. He rubs his nose right against your covered cunt to show you he understands. You look down at him while he waits against you for some kind of release. “You failed your assignment today, so you have to taste me through the fabric,” you declare to remind him about his mistake. “Lick right through the material,” you order while forcing his head down onto your crotch.

He lets out a needy whine, and he parts his lips to obey your command right away. “You only get to taste whatever soaks through because you were useless today,” you say as you watch his mouth open wider. “Make it wet enough, and I might forgive you,” you add to give him a reason to try harder. He presses his tongue against the fabric to follow your order without a second of hesitation. He licks right over the seam of your panties while he tries to balance himself without using his hands. You watch the material turn dark with his saliva as he tries to please you. He wants the real thing so much, and he accepts being denied since he knows he deserves the punishment. You feel the wet heat of his mouth seeping through the panties to soak your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down the seam time after time to drench the entire area for you. He refuses to bring his arms forward even when he wobbles on his knees.

He pauses to breathe before looking up at you from between your legs. “Mnn... is this good?” he asks while looking at your face. He dives right back down to lick the soaked material before you can even answer him. You feel his tongue working the wet fabric into your slit so he can taste you. “I’ll make it so wet for you,” he mumbles against your crotch before letting out a grunt. He stops licking to look up at you with desperate eyes. “Please let me taste the rest,” he begs while staring up at you. You hold your hand tight in his hair to remind him who is in charge right now. He leans back so he can look into your face while leaving his mouth very close to you. “Tell me I’m doing a good job,” he pleads to get some validation for his efforts. You refuse to give him any praise until the fabric is ruined with his spit. He takes your silence as a cue to work harder, so he pushes his face right back into your cunt. You let out a sigh as his tongue laps at the soaked material.

“Mmf- please tell me I’m good,” he whines into your crotch while rubbing his nose against you. The urge to use his fingers makes his arms twitch, but he forces his hands behind his back anyway. The punishment drives him crazy because he wants to touch your cunt. His mouth has to do all the work while he kneels on the floor between your legs. You see him shove his face into your center to get a better angle. His hot breath fans the damp fabric of your panties before he opens his mouth. “Fuck- just like that,” you groan while staring down at his head. “Ahhn- keep going,” you command as you tighten your hand in his hair. A wet sound fills the room when his tongue drags hard against the center seam to find the exact spot you need. The soaked fabric turns see-through under his mouth as he laps right over your clit. “Shit- right there,” you curse while your hips jerk upward. You feel the rough texture of the panties rub against your folds.

He parts his lips to close his mouth right over your clit through the material and sucks it. “Mnn- suck it harder,” you demand while tilting your hips forward. “God... fuck yes,” you sigh as his tongue flicks against you. The annoyance of not having the whole thing makes him too impatient to wait any longer after being denied for so long. Tasting you through a layer of fabric frustrates him because he craves the real thing. You feel him turn his head just enough to bite down on your panties. He hooks his teeth into the fabric and tries to yank your panties to the side so he can taste you without it. He drags the material far enough out of the way before releasing it from his teeth. His mouth dives forward the second his lips are free. A hot breath escapes him when he swipes his tongue against your slick folds. He laps you up with a sloppy sound while his nose nudges into your thigh. Tasting your cunt makes him groan right against your slit, and he devours you without using his hands because you told him to leave them behind his back.

Your juices coat his chin while he eats you out, and you feel his tongue working deep into your hole as he tries to make up for lost time. He wants to prove how useful he can be right here on the floor. “Did I say you could move those?” you ask while looking down at his head. You yank his hair backward to stop him from licking your cunt any further. A whine escapes him, but he lets you drag his head away from your center. Your juices shine right on his chin when he looks up at you with needy eyes. He pants through an open mouth as he waits for your next instruction. You hold his head tilted back to make him look at your face. “You’re so fucking impatient,” you taunt while watching his chest heave. He tries to lean forward again, but you pin him in place. “Fucking desperate,” you state as you observe him beg for another taste. The punishment of being so close yet so far from his reach drives him crazy.

A heavy breath escapes him while he stares up at your face, and his hands twitch behind his back as he fights the urge to grab your thighs. You let him suffer on his knees for a few more seconds before deciding what to do next. The desperation in his eyes proves how much he hates disappointing you today. He rubs his cheek against your thigh to ask for forgiveness without using his words. Refusing to give him an immediate answer makes him squirm under your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbone as he leans into the touch. You let go of his hair and point straight at the floor. He frowns at you because he hates being pushed away right when he got a taste. He wants to dive back into your cunt, but he waits for your next instruction. “Move backward on your knees,” you order as you glare down at him. You can see the annoyance in his expression over the distance.

“Why do I have to move?” he whines while staring at your wet slit. Looking so desperate makes him pathetic. He actually thinks he gets a say in this. “I was doing what you wanted,” he argues as he refuses to budge. You wonder if he really believes arguing will change your mind. “Did I ask for your opinion?” you ask while keeping your finger pointed down. His eyes widen when he realizes you might make him stop for good. “Four steps back right now,” you demand so he knows you mean it. Frustration makes him groan before he shuffles backward on his knees to put some distance between you two. You watch him move away before you lift your hips off the couch cushion. You slide your wet panties down your legs so you can step out of them. You grab the soaked material before tossing it onto the floor right in front of his knees. Pure instinct makes his hand shoot out from behind his back to snatch it up.

“I’m keeping these,” he grunts as he shoves the wet fabric into his pocket. He acts like a feral dog hoarding food because he refuses to let you take it away. “Don’t try to take them back,” he begs while guarding his pants. You roll your eyes at his behavior before deciding to give him a break instead of punishing the slip. “You can bring your other hand out from behind your back,” you state to give him full permission. He brings his arms forward to reach for you because he thinks he gets to feel your body after being denied for so long. He wants to grab your thighs, but you point straight at his pants before he can touch your legs. He drops his hands while he looks up at you in confusion. “You won’t let me touch you?” he whines as he stares up at your face. He stares at his empty hands like he expects you to change your mind. You can see how much he hates being denied after following your orders. “I just want to hold your legs,” he pleads while looking between your face and your thighs.

Begging only proves how desperate he is for physical contact. “Take it out and touch yourself,” you command as you point down at his pants. He swallows hard because he realizes you intend to keep denying him. You lean back against the couch cushions while you look down at his pathetic expression. “You haven’t earned the right to touch me,” you state to remind him of his place. He looks down at his jeans before looking right back at your wet cunt. “Just tell me I can taste you again,” he begs while his hands shake in front of his chest. You refuse to answer him until he does what you told him to do. He undoes his belt and unbuttons his pants to free his hard cock from his jeans. He pulls his dick straight out from his underwear without taking his clothes off. He wraps his fingers around himself to stroke his cock while he watches your face. “F-fuck- mmh,” he stutters as he pumps his fist up and down his shaft.

You nod in approval so he knows he can come back to his spot between your legs. “Come here,” you offer as you monitor him jerking off. He works his hand faster as he scrambles forward on his knees to reach you. He hurries back to his spot between your legs without stopping his hand. He buries his face back into your wet cunt so he can lick you out while stroking his own dick. He pumps his fist along his shaft as his tongue swipes right against your slick folds. He lets out a muffled groan against your slit when he tastes you again. He laps at your clit as he jerks himself off right in front of you. You watch him devour you while his hand moves fast over his cock. He uses his mouth on you without hesitation since his hands are too busy to touch your thighs. He dips his chin down a bit to align his mouth with your opening before he curls his tongue to push it just past your folds.

He slides it into your slick entrance before dragging it back out to thrust in again while a sloppy noise comes from his lips. He strokes his own cock with his fist while he breathes loud enough to hear over the sounds of his mouth. “Fuck- Dex-” you groan while tilting your hips closer to his face. He looks good on his knees. “Ahhn- right there,” you curse as his tongue works inside you. You watch him swallow saliva leaking past his mouth. He takes orders better than you expected. “Keep doing that,” you command while looking down at him. He needs leverage to hold his mouth in place, and his empty hand reaches out to grab your thigh for support. You smack the back of his hand the second your fingers brush your leg, but he brings his arm right back up. His fingers twitch toward your knee a few moments later because he wants to grab you. “Mnn- keep your hands down,” you warn while glaring at his messy face.

You slap his knuckles hard enough to leave a mark the moment he tries to sneak his palm toward your waist. A pathetic whine vibrates against your cunt every time you reject his touch, but he refuses to pull his mouth away even after you slap him. “F-fuck... yeah,” you sigh while he swallows down another whine. He pumps his fist up and down his shaft while his tongue laps at your opening. He attempts to slide his fingers over your calf one last time before you lift your foot and dig your heel right into his shoulder to push him back. “You don’t get to touch me,” you taunt as he whines against your slit. He takes the rough treatment without a fight because he refuses to stop tasting you. He presses his empty hand against the base of the couch to hold himself back. He pants through his nose to catch his breath between each push of his tongue. “Feels good,” you praise while watching him take the punishment.

You see his eyes dart up to follow your hip movements. You want him to beg for a touch later. “Shit- fuck yes,” you curse as his mouth laps at you. He looks up at you through his eyelashes to gauge your reaction, and the sight of his messy face makes you arch your back off the cushion. Arching your hips forces your clit to bump right against his nose while his tongue pushes at your entrance. “Nngh- take it,” you demand while your hips press forward. He exhales against your folds while his hand moves fast over his cock. You stop telling him what to do once the pleasure gets too much and your breath breaks into ragged sighs. You drop your head back against the couch cushions before lifting one hand to cover your eyes and hide your face while Benjamin watches you fall apart. “Nnngh... fuck,” you whine as you struggle to catch your breath. He lets go of his own shaft because he needs to use both hands.

He ignores your previous warnings to reach up from between his legs and wrap his fingers right around your bare thigh. He pushes your knee outward to open you up for his mouth while your free hand tries to swat his knuckles. You move too slow to stop him, and his other hand comes up fast to catch your wrist before you can slap him. He forces your arm straight down into the upholstery to hold you in place. He presses your arm against the cushion while his other hand holds your thigh tightly. He observes your face while you gasp for air. “Shh- let me just hold your leg,” he murmurs while staring right at you. You yank your arm against his grip, but he refuses to let go. “Y-you don’t get to do that-” you stutter as your hips twitch. “You don’t have to fight me,” he interrupts without raising his voice as he waits for you to stop struggling. “Mmn- let me take care of you,” he tells you before leaning forward.

He holds your arm down and brings his mouth back to your folds while his tongue moves slowly over your clit. A frustrated noise escapes you when he refuses to go faster, and your hips jerk forward to chase his mouth. He pulls his head back an inch to let his tongue graze your clit because he refuses to give you the pleasure you want. “Hah- nngh... faster,” you beg while twisting the wrist he presses against the couch. He ignores your begging and instead uses the distance to speak. “Don’t cover your eyes,” he instructs while squeezing your thigh harder. You press your hand against your face to hide your expression until he nudges his nose against your clit to force a reaction out of you. “Fuck you- ahhhnn,” you curse while moving your hand away from your eyes to glare down at him. “Look right at me,” he demands before diving his tongue back inside your hole. You stare down at his messy face while he drags his tongue over your clit over and over without speeding up.

He knows you need him to go faster, but he refuses to change his pace while your toes curl and you squirm against the cushion. “Hngh... Dex, please,” you beg while arching your back. He pushes his tongue inside you the second you ask for it. “I got you,” he promises while he laps at your entrance to make you beg for everything. You drop your free hand from your face down to his head to tangle your fingers in his hair. You shove his face hard against your folds to force his nose right into your slit. You thrust your hips up to grind your cunt against his mouth. “I never told you to touch me,” you spit out while glaring down at his messy face. You tighten your fingers in the strands at the base of his neck. “Y-you didn’t get my permission to put your hands on me- nghh,” you scold while you grind your hips against his nose. He ignores your complaints to let go of your thigh and move his hand higher up your leg. He finds your clit and rubs his thumb over it to shut you up.

You thrash against him, but he shoves your pinned arm harder into the couch to stop you from fighting back. He thrusts his tongue inside your hole while his thumb rubs over your clit. Your words cut off into a loud groan because his tongue and thumb move at the same time. You yank his hair to hold his face against your slit because you want him closer. “Hngh... f-fuck,” you stutter as your hips grind up to chase his mouth. He strokes your clit with his thumb right in time with the thrust of his tongue. He rubs you over and over to make your hips shake against the couch. Your breathing turns into short gasps while you ride his mouth. “Hah- ahhhnn... right there,” you beg while your back arches up. He pushes his tongue further inside your cunt to answer your demands. You lose the ability to scold him because you need his mouth too much. Your toes curl against the floor while you grind against his face.

“Don’t you fucking stop- nnngh,” you command while your nails dig into his scalp. He rubs his thumb over your clit to make you beg. You gasp for air because you need what he does to you. “I swear to God, Dex- mmph,” you curse while your hips jerk against his nose. Benjamin feels your hips jerk against his face before he leans back to take his mouth away from your slit. He moves his tongue just out of reach while you thrash against the sofa because you want the release bad enough to fight for it. “Wh-what the fuck are you doing? Nnh- don’t stop,” you complain while you tug his hair to force his head back down. He refuses to budge, but he presses his thumb over your clit. He looks up at your face while you stare back at him. “Tell me how much you like my mouth on you,” he demands while he watches your expression. He presses his thumb against you to make you speak.

“Tell me to make you cum,” he taunts while he drags his finger over your clit to pull another moan from your throat. You spit out a curse, but your chest heaves for air. “Fuck you... You don’t get to order me around- ahhn,” you stutter as your hips jerk up to chase him. Your cunt clenches with a need you can’t control while your legs shake on either side of his head. Your fingers twist into his hair before you stop fighting him because you crave his mouth way too much. “Fine... God, I like it,” you admit while you let out a ragged breath. Your fingers untangle from his hair when you give up. “Please Dex... mnnnh- make me cum,” you beg as you give him all your attention. He pushes his face right back into you the second you confess to sliding his tongue over your slit. You let out a loud gasp when he releases your pinned arm and his fingers dig into your thighs while he speeds up his pace. He moves his thumb faster until your breath hitches, and you lift your shoulders off the backrest to get closer to him.

Your hands leave his hair to grab his shoulders to drag his mouth straight against your folds. “Dex- Fuck- yes...” you gasp while you dig your nails into his skin. He grunts against your slit before dragging his tongue over your clit to make you cum. His mouth makes your head fall back before a loud moan escapes your throat. Your toes curl while your back arches off the sofa. You squeeze your thighs around his ears while you thrust your hips up into his face. Your hips jerk while you cum all over his tongue. He leaves his mouth against your slit to swallow every drop. He laps his tongue across your folds to clean you up, and he refuses to move away until your legs stop shaking. You drop your back onto the couch to catch your breath. “God... hahh... you’re a bastard,” you mumble while you let your eyes fall shut. Benjamin chuckles against you before he speaks up. “I always get what I want,” he states while he places a kiss right over your clit.

Benjamin pulls away from your thighs before he gets up from the floor. He places his feet on either side of your legs to tower over you. Both of you look down at his cock because he stopped jerking off to make you cum. His dick twitches in the open air while he catches his breath. You tilt your head back to look up at his face. A smirk forms on your lips when you look at his undone pants. “Looks like someone got left out,” you point out as you gesture toward his crotch. You lean forward to reach your hand out toward his waist. You wrap your fingers around his cock to take him into your palm. “Sh-shit- fuck,” Benjamin groans when your hand grabs him. He tilts his head back while a rough breath escapes his lips. You drag your hand up and down his dick without speeding up the pace. He thrusts his hips forward into your palm because he needs more. You squeeze his cock to stop him from moving.

You rub your thumb over the tip of his dick. “Let me finish what you started,” you offer while you look up at him. He lets out a rough grunt before he glares down at you. “D-don’t play with it- ngh,” he grunts as he pushes his waist against your palm. You ignore his words to drag your hand up his length again. You wrap your fingers tighter around him to make him gasp. “Mmn- I guess you want this,” you murmur while you stroke him at a slow pace. Benjamin mutters a curse under his breath before his fingers clamp around the wrist of the hand wrapped around his cock. He pulls at your arm to move your fingers away from him, but you refuse to let go. “You’re going to make me- ngh,” he groans while his knees buckle. You use your free hand to grab his hip to pull him closer to the couch. You pump your hand over his cock again to pull another moan out of his throat. He watches your face while you move your fist up and down.

“Fuck... do it,” he commands as he lets go of your wrist. You grab his hip to drag him down onto the other side of the couch before he drops onto the seat to face you with his legs spread wide apart. You scoot forward to close the distance between your bodies, and he watches your face when you tighten your fingers around his cock. You lean in to put your lips against his neck as you pump your hand up and down his shaft until a loud breath escapes his throat the second your mouth touches him. “Are you going to beg for my mouth?” you ask him before you press kisses up to his jaw and you rub your thumb over the tip of his cock. He thrusts his hips into your palm to get closer to your hand as you move your face next to his ear to keep teasing him. You drag your fist down to the base of his shaft to force a loud gasp from his throat. “Or should I just keep using my hand?” you mock him while you stroke him again.

He tilts his head to the side to give you more room before you speak up. “Are you going to cum like this?” you whisper right next to his ear. Benjamin lets out a loud groan to stop your questions. He grabs your thigh to dig his fingers into your leg while he shoves his hips forward into your hand to force a faster pace. “F-fuck you... just use your mouth,” he demands while he glares at you. You smile at him because you got the answer you wanted. You slide your hand up his length one more time to torture him. “Stop talking and do it- ngh,” he curses when you squeeze his cock. You lean back from his face to look at his cock before you let go of his shaft to lower your head between his legs. Benjamin tilts his head back when you open your mouth over him to take the tip of his cock past your lips. He lets out a loud curse when your tongue slides against him. His fingers dig into your thigh while you take more of his length into your mouth.

“God... f-fuck,” he groans as he thrusts forward into your face. You move your lips further along his shaft to take more of his length into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head before you suck him deep. Benjamin thrusts his hips forward to chase your mouth while he moves his free hand to grab the strands of your hair. He throws his head back to take a loud breath before he curses out loud. “F-fuck yes... don’t stop,” he groans while his hips thrust toward your face. You keep your head lowered to give him what he wants. He guides your head with his fingers to control the pace. You reach your hand out to wrap your fingers around the base of his cock to stroke him while your mouth takes the rest of his length. Benjamin digs his other hand deeper into your thigh when you use your mouth and hand at the same time. You trace your tongue along the underside before you drag your mouth toward the tip.

He pushes forward from the couch to get deeper past your lips. “God... you feel so fucking good- hah,” he pants as he watches you take him. You stroke the bottom of his cock while your mouth slides over the tip. His breathing speeds up every time your lips move against him. You slide your mouth up his shaft to tease the tip with your tongue. Benjamin lets out a loud grunt before he tugs on your hair to guide your head back down to his cock. “Put it back in your mouth... f-fuck,” he demands while he glares at you. You sink your mouth all the way down to his base to give him what he asked for. He shoves his hips forward to bury himself deep in your throat. You gag around his cock, and you let out a muffled sound against his base while you take his full length. He holds your hair so you can’t move away from him. You suck his cock while you stroke his base with your hand.

Benjamin thrusts his hips forward every time you lower your head. He squeezes your leg because the feeling gets too intense. “Shit... mmf- yes... keep going- nghh,” he curses as he watches your mouth move over him. You circle your tongue around the head one more time before you move your lips back to the tip. He tilts his head back against the couch to catch his breath. You move your hand faster while you watch his face. Benjamin lifts his fingers from your thigh before he grabs your wrist. He pulls your arm away from him to remove your hand from his cock. He drops your arm to your side because he prefers your mouth on him right now. He stares down at your face while you kneel on the couch. “Keep your hands off... take it the right way- ahn,” he commands while he waits for you to obey. He thrusts his hips forward to get closer to your mouth. You open your lips to do exactly what he says. You suck the tip of his cock, but you refuse to take his full length.

You swirl your tongue around the head to tease him instead of going deep. Benjamin mutters a curse before his fingers twist into the strands of your hair. He thrusts his hips forward into your face without giving you time to adjust. He forces his cock down your throat to make you gag around his shaft. A muffled noise escapes you when he bottoms out past your lips. “F-fuck... I told you to take all of it,” he groans while he pushes your head down. He refuses to let you pull back from him. You pull your head back a few inches to glare up at his face. You reach out to plant both of your hands onto his covered thighs. You dig your nails into the fabric of his pants to push back against him. Benjamin keeps his hand tangled in your hair to guide your head up and down his cock. He forces a slower pace to keep himself from thrusting deep into your mouth again. “Yeah... look right at me while you do it- hngh,” he pants as he watches your eyes.

He bobs your head over his shaft while you swallow around his length every time he pushes you down. Your hands tighten on his thighs whenever his cock hits the back of your throat. He lets out a loud grunt when your lips wrap around his base. He uses his hand in your hair to make sure you take every single inch of him. “Keep your mouth wide for me... fuck,” he demands while he speeds up his movements. You let out another gagging sound when he forces his entire length past your lips again. He watches your mouth take his cock without looking away. His hips thrust forward into your face despite his efforts to hold himself back. “God... this feels so fucking amazing- mmf,” he groans as he keeps pumping your head. Benjamin keeps his hand tangled in your hair so you can’t pull away from him. He holds your head in place to stop bobbing you up and down because he wants to thrust his hips forward from the sofa instead.

He shoves his waist forward to do the work himself. He forces his length past your lips without waiting for you to adjust. “Take it all the way down- fuck,” he pants while he pushes right into your face. He thrusts his waist forward to bury his cock deep past your lips. He forces his full length down your throat every single time he shoves it in. You gag around his shaft when he reaches the very back of your throat. He pumps forward to force you to swallow every inch of him. “Ghk- Mmph-” you choke out while you take his length. You try to latch onto his covered thighs to dig your nails into his pants while he thrusts forward. He pulls his cock out to the tip before he shoves it straight down your throat again. He lets out a low groan while he fucks your mouth at a faster pace. He watches your face to see you take his entire length. “Swallow it all for me,” he tells you while looking down at you. His hips slap against your face while he speeds up his thrusts.

He trembles under your hands because he gets closer to cumming. He shoves his cock deeper down your throat to make your eyes water. You choke around his shaft while you struggle to swallow his full length. He tightens his fingers in your hair to make sure you take all of it. “Shit... I’m so fucking close-” he curses while his knees start to shake. Benjamin thrusts his hips forward to shove his cock as deep as it can go. He forces his full length down your throat to make you choke. His fingers twist tighter into your hair when his shaft buries inside your mouth. “Fuck... don’t move,” he groans while his hips push forward. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat. He shoves forward to make sure you take every inch of him. He lets out a loud grunt when he shoots his cum down your throat. His load fills your mouth until it starts to spill down your chin. “Mmmph- hkkh!” you choke around his cock while he pumps into you.

He twitches inside your mouth while he empties his shaft completely. You swallow as much as you can to handle the amount he forces out. He keeps his hand tangled in your hair, so you have to take every drop. He takes a fast breath before he pushes your head away from his crotch. He lets go of your hair to slump back against the couch so you can breathe. His cock twitches with a few drops of cum right at the tip. “Haaah... shit- you took all of it,” he pants while he looks down at your face. You move away from his thighs to lean back against the sofa. He spreads his legs a bit wider on the furniture while he catches his breath. He rests his head against the backrest to watch you recover. You let out a cough to clear your throat. You wipe the spit and cum from your chin before you glare at his face. You shoot him an angry look because he made you choke on it. “A-asshole- you didn’t even warn me,” you spit out while you catch your breath.

He chuckles a little bit while he watches you wipe your mouth. He reaches out to rub a drop of spit from the corner of your lips. “You handled it perfectly,” he says while he traces your jawline. You reach out to grab the front of his shirt to drag his face closer to yours without giving him a chance to back away. He doesn’t fight you because he wants to hear what you have to say. You lean in to brush your lips right next to his ear. “I know exactly how good I took it,” you whisper while you breathe against his neck. He tilts his head to give you more room to speak. You change your tone to bring up the job he messed up today. You remind him that he disappointed you when he failed to kill Karen. His jaw clenches the second you mention Karen and ruins his good mood. “It’s a damn shame you let that bitch live,” you mock him right next to his ear. He turns his face to look at you with an annoyed expression while you smirk back at him to show you aren’t intimidated at all. You tap your fingers against his chest to make your point clear. You glare up at him to show you’re serious about the job.

He watches your eyes while you tell him what to do next. “You need to fix your mistake before I lose my patience,” you demand as you dig your nails into his shirt. He lets out a hard breath through his nose while he listens to every single word you tell him. You drag your eyes down to his twitching cock before you look back up at his face. You promise him a much better reward if he actually finishes the job this time. “Bring me her head, and I’ll let you fuck my cunt,” you whisper while you trace his jawline. He chuckles because he likes the way you threaten him. “You drive a really hard bargain,” he pants as he imagines it. “I’ll get it done if you promise me that,” he tells you while he leans his forehead against yours. “Do we have a deal?” you ask him after you move your head back a little bit to look right into his eyes. You watch his face because you know he will never turn down an offer like that. He nods to agree while he rests his hands on your waist. “Consider her dead,” he promises before he leans forward to kiss you.

⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-six © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀⠀

[killshotx]

when Dex figures out you have an oral fixation he starts like, offering himself up to you at any given opportunity. you’re laying in bed together and he wraps his arm around your neck with his bicep tucked up against your mouth. you’re sitting against his chest on the couch and his fingers come up to brush against your lips. he’s still too nervous to ask for it out loud but he’ll try to bait you into it.

he just loves it when you show your desire for him in strange ways. like yeah actually he does want to be cannibalized by you. you can crawl under his skin and live there forever. you can cut a piece of his hair off and keep it in a locket around your neck. just please love him more strangely and intensely than anyone else you have ever loved before.

you come home crying one day and he just flat out asks “do you want to bite me? do you want to suck on my fingers? :(“ and he’s sooooo sincere. he knows it’ll make you feel better, like offering a pacifier to a child. and you know what. yeah. yeah I do want to chew on him. put your fingers in my mouth now.

[poinandshoot]

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT — cnc, primal play, uhm... some dub-con if you squint, bondage, the mask stays on, degradation, hair pulling, outdoor sex, blood!! reader is a little dumb and got injured, overstimulation, creampie, dex is taking his job way too seriously

1.3k words...

chased and fucked

you kept on running and running. giggling to yourself as you looked behind you. seeing him just walk after you. you hated that. oh my gosh, he wasn’t even trying. like he already knew how this would end.

so you turned a sharp corner. sprinting faster. putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. your breaths came out in quick bursts. your lungs burned. you ran and ran that you didn’t notice the silence behind you.

you looked over your shoulder. nothing. maybe he took the wrong turn or he lost you? your heartbeat disagreed.

is this how his fucking victims feel?

you swallowed hard before slipping into another narrow alley. trying to catch your breath. then your foot landed on an old can. it rolled loudly across the pavement.

you stumbled. your knees slammed against the concrete and pain bloomed instantly. blood trickled down your skin. “...ow…”

as you looked up, there he was. already standing at the end of the alley. watching. he started walking again. not hurried. not excited. fuck, you don’t understand. every step echoed. you instinctively crawled backwards. which got you more confused because that is literally your boyfriend. why would you be scared?

“dex…” another step. “wait... wait…” closer. “i can’t... my... my knees…” closer. “can we…” he stopped right in front of you. then lowered himself onto one knee. one arm rested lazily over his thigh. his head tilted. like you had just asked the dumbest question imaginable.

those eyes. god.

even if he was wearing his mask, his eyes were so expressive that it made you wonder so many emotions in there. confusion. curiosity. amusement. excitement. excitement?

you couldn’t breathe. you reached for his sleeve. your fingers lightly tapped against his arm. “...please?”

he simply looked at your hand. and back at you.

his hand went to the wound on your knee. tracing the blood. “hurts, baby? want me to stop?”

you were confused by his tone. unsure whether or not he was serious or mocking you. either way, you nodded so stupidly.

“that sucks.” he simply responded. you could see him smiling through that mask from how his eyes lifted up. before you could even respond, his hands went under your skirt and ripped your panties off. well… you did purposely wear a skirt for better access but you did not expect him to just straight up rip your panties off in an alley.

you gasped as you immediately closed your legs. he slapped your thighs and kicked your legs apart. you whimpered in pain. you struggled and tried to push him but he easily caught your wrists together as he took his belt off.

“dex- wait-” you struggled again. groaning as you felt your knees aching and still bleeding.

he couldn’t care less. you hated how that made you wetter. this wasn’t your boyfriend who’s about to fuck you. this was bullseye.

he wrapped his belt around your wrists tightly. he fisted your hair then leaned into your ear. “need you to be quiet for me, pretty girl. can you do that?” his voice was a lot deeper and lower. the way it was slightly muffled by his mask did not help the achy feeling in your cunt. tears well up your eyes at how hard he was tugging. “answer me.” he growled in your ear as he tugged your hair harder. actually making your head yank back a little.

you quickly nodded. “yes… yes, dex.”

he simply nodded back before he unzipped his pants. then pulled his boxer down until his cock sprang out. you’ve never seen him harder before. it made you stare for a moment that you forgot that he was about to put that thing inside you. your eyes just widened and you shook your head as he slowly pushed the head inside.

your aching knee shook. which he noticed and put it on his broad shoulder while leaving the other on the ground.

he pushed further and further until he was filling you completely. more tears fell out because he was really stretching you out. his cock felt different or maybe that’s just because of how he is treating you. then he started thrusting inside. not gentle, not passionate. obviously not.

he was fucking you. absolutely fucking you.

he started at a rough, aggressive pace. the sound of your skins slapping together was so loud that it made you scared that people who are sleeping at this time would wake up to the sound and see what’s happening. which… made you clench tighter around him.

“you like this, huh? you wanna be a dirty whore and get fucked outside? is that it?” he pounded you faster and harder. his cock kept on reaching the deepest spot inside you. your tied hands held onto his arm as he was still fisting your hair. trying to pull away but wouldn’t work. you were too weak.

he turned his head to the side, seeing the blood all over your knees that was slowly dripping down your thigh as he kept it raised on his shoulder. he kissed it through his mask. the blood smudging over the fabric. probably the most romantic thing he’d done to you for the past couple of minutes.

you watched as he kissed down. your face was wet with tears. he stopped holding your hair. and delivered a sharp slap to your face before fucking you harder. your legs instinctively close together… which… was no use to him.

everything was so humiliating. you’re getting fucked in a dark alley and you’re literally bleeding and your cunt is getting stretched and-

“dex- i’m- i’m gonna-!” you panicked and whined. he grabbed your face with his free hand. squeezing your cheeks together. he leaned down further until you could feel his fast breathing against your neck.

“oh i know, sweet girl. i know. come on. be a nasty slut and come all over my cock.” his thrust was getting sloppier. he kissed your tears through his mask. your own blood that stuck to his mask smudged a little on your cheeks.

before you could moan again, you felt yourself cumming all over his cock. shaking and sobbing from the feeling. your legs wrapped around his waist.

he keeps pounding you through your orgasm as he chases his own. you whined and cried from overstimulation. trying to push him but he pinned you on the dirty ground.

he let out a heavy whimper as he came inside you. burying his face on your neck. he pounded slowly as he buried his cum inside you. “oh fuck…” he groaned.

you both panted for a while. then he moved. pulling his cock out and tucking it back inside his pants as he watches you. still sobbing and shaking.

he gently helped you sit up. the moment you were steady, you let yourself melt against his chest with a tired sigh. without a word, he reached for the belt still secured around your wrists. his fingers worked carefully, making sure not to rub against the reddened skin as he loosened it. once it slipped free, he set it aside. his hand came up beneath your chin, lifting your head just enough to look at you. you were smiling.

he let out a long, quiet sigh. “this is the only time,” he murmured. “you hear me?” his thumb brushed lightly over the scrape on your knee before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i’m serious.”

you only smiled wider, eyes soft and entirely unconvinced. knowing that this surely won’t be the last time because all you need to do next time is to bat your lashes at him. it’s that easy.

requested by anon, from @st4rfckerz <3

[maayhemi]

── premature ejaculation

content.ᐟ 18+, pathetic!dex, unprotected p in v, first time, crying, praise, pet names (baby/babygirl)

dex poindexter, bullseye, who cums within 30 seconds of being inside you.

he can't shake the thought that it feels a bit too good when your hand strokes his flushed cock lightly a few times before he inches himself in, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was already close. what was he supposed to say? "i feel like i might cum from looking at you, can we take a break?" he decided to save himself the embarrassment.

so when your pussy is fluttering around his pretty pink tip, he has to clench his eyes shut and bite his lip, before burying himself to the hilt quickly. he swears he's never felt anything like your velvety heat, so warm, wet, and tight— fuck. his head falls down to your bare chest and he actually pants, cursing under his breath and not daring to move.

the soft moans and breathless whispers of his name that fall from your lips when he's fully buried inside you isn't helping either. the way your nails card through his damp hair and scratch at his scalp makes his balls tighten up, he literally has to pull his head away from your grasp so he doesn't blow his load right there. poor boy feels so bad :(

"dex?" you ask in that soft raspy tone that always manages to give him a painful hard-on. even as he's distancing himself as much as he can from you without actually pulling out, you're reaching for him, small soft hands grasping at his biceps, pulling him back into your chest.

you figure he just needs a bit of encouragement, maybe he's scared of hurting you? "feels s'good baby..." you praise him breathlessly. his dick twitches violently inside your gummy walls at that, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, like he's hiding from your impossibly soft gaze.

"m'sorry babygirl, i just- jus' need a minute..." he speaks lowly, words muffled by your neck. it sounds more whimpery than he meant it to be.

you catch on quickly after that, you then notice his trembling and heavy breathing, you have to hold back a giggle, such a big brooding guy like him all gooey under your touch and words. he has a big need to please you, but it's not his fault your pussy just feels too good!

you let a small smirk grow on your face, "oh, dexie," you coo, rubbing his back. "am i that good?" you huff a small, teasing laugh, kissing the top of his head.

he whines at the sound of your voice, and just how pathetic he feels. "just- don't talk —fuck— i'm sorry-" he shakes his head, it physically hurts him to tell you to be quiet, but if you don't, he knows he'll embarrass himself :(

you feel dex's eyes blinking against your skin, and the tears falling down his cheeks. you bring your hand to grip the hair on the back of his head, pulling him from the crook of your neck. he has big, glossy eyes staring at you with so much embarrassment.

you soften impossibly at that, "dex, baby, s'okay" you coo at him, peppering reverent kisses all over his flushed face, swiping away his tears. he leans into the contact, closing his eyes and letting you kiss all over his face. "i- i don't wanna disappoint you–" he hiccups, glancing down at where the two of you are connected, and instantly regretting it.

before you can reassure him once again, you feel him buck his hips into yours, and a sudden, warm sensation. "oh– fuuuck–" he chokes out a low groan, burying his face into your neck again. he's crying harder, fingers gripping into your shoulders hard enough to bruise as he fucks into you in shallow thrusts, moaning softly.

you lay there in almost shock, still rubbing his back tenderly as he fills you up with his warm release. "did you just–" you stutter out, letting a small, suprised grin grow on your face.

he's not so amused though, shaking like a leaf and sobbing apologies into your skin. "ohgod–" "m'so sorry, baby" "fuck– i'm so stupid" he's beating himself up, making a big deal out of cumming too soon. he collapses on top of you, not wanting there to be any space between the two of you.

"dex." you stop his spiraling firmly, squeezing his bicep and getting him to look up at you. he looks humiliated, pitifully glancing away from your gaze when you begin to speak. "i don't mind, okay?" you make him nod at that, carding your finger through his damp, blonde hair. "lets go again, yeah?"

© mayhemi | all rights reserved.

[theblindshot]

dex adding this to his mental notes: pat the cheeks to express delight

[avocado-writing]

Hello! I’m coming to you with a thought that occurred after the glory hole one you sent to me… Lars working himself up to go into a sex shop at the other side of town so he can buy a fleshlight (or something similar) because he feels too guilty using his hand and he’s so horny.

Reader works behind the counter and gives him advice when he goes in. They clearly have chemistry and Lars is so nervous, but reader ends up demonstrating toys on him and maybe even using her own favorites to show him how it’s done 🤭

Love ken-dom

OKAY I went a little off-script with this but I hope you enjoy! it is also. uh. long. @ken-dom enjoy!

Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader. 18+. Inexperienced Lars, pocket-pussy usage. You help him try it out. 2.8k words.

He walks into your shop late one Tuesday evening. You're always open late, after all, otherwise you'd never get any goddamn sales. People are so shy about sex and the darkness finds them drawn to your business like horny little moths to flames. This guy seems to be no different: cute little mustache twitching, hands wringing, eyes everywhere but you.

You glance up from the magazine you're reading on the counter.

"Hi there."

He bolts back out the door. The chime above it was still ringing from when opened it in the first place; it didn't even have time to settle where he was in and out so fast.

You'd say this was unsual but no, this happens more often than people would think. Most customers make it at least a few steps inside, though. You chalk it down to bad luck and go back to your article.

You don't expect him to come again the next day. Your gaze flickers up and you're definitely surprised but you make a conscious choice not to acknowledge him. Your plan seems to work and this time, he manages to make it to the first aisle before he turns round and leaves again.

He comes in every day and, every day, gets a little deeper into the store. You decide that ignoring him is the right call. It seems like even being beheld in a place like this is too much for him to bear so you just sort of… pretend he's not there.

That's not to say you don't let your eyes flicker over to him every now and then, when you're sure he's not looking. You like what you see. He's well-groomed and well-dressed, always with a cute and flattering knitted jumper on. He doesn't really seem to know what he wants - then again, he can barely bring himself to look at any of the wares you have on offer - and you think he's not the kind of customer who'd respond well to a frank conversation about that sort of thing. It's best to let him figure it out on his own.

On the tenth day, he does. He snatches something off of one of the shelves and practically runs to the checkout, where he throws the package down in front of you like it's going to bite him.

A fleshlight. You shouldn't be surprised. Simple, reliable, good to come inside. You ring him up without holding eye contact… but you do add a bottle of lube into the black plastic bag when you pack it up for him.

"On the house," you say, because damn it, you really want this guy to have a nice orgasm and you've become sort of fond of him over these past couple of weeks. He chokes out a noise which could be a thank you and flees out the door.

A beat.

Then he sprints back in, grabs the bag with his new fleshlight that he totally forgot to pick up from the counter, and sprints out again.

"What a strange man," you say aloud to yourself, voice full of poorly-contained lust.

You think that will probably be the last you see of Mr Cute-Stache.

"I don't know, Karin," you sigh down the phone. It's trapped between your ear and your shoulder so you can twiddle the cord with one hand and do stocks with the other. Your oldest friend makes a disappointed noise on the other side of the line.

"Come on, I wouldn't try to set you up with just anybody! He's a really nice guy. Kind of shy, but I think you'd help him come out of his shell."

"I don't know. You know how people are when they find out I run this place. They think I'm gonna stick a dildo in them on the first date, or make them come before we even kiss. It's just… they make a lot of assumptions."

"Lars isn't like that! He's sweet, honestly. Plus he has this sort of… he's a little touch-averse, so he wouldn't expect anything from you at all. Just one dinner. Or even one coffee! For me, please?"

You groan, because you know you'll give in to Karin. She usually knows best. She was the one who gave you the push to start up your shop, and it's been the best decision of your life. How bad can her brother-in-law be? What have you got to lose from one date?

"Alright, fine. If he wants to meet, let's do it."

"Oh yay! This is so exciting, I'll—" the sound of a baby crying in the background interrupts her, and she goes from matchmaker-friend to cooing mom in a heartbeat. "Oh no, Amelia, it's okay! We're just trying to set your Uncle Lars up, it's no big deal…"

You laugh. "I'll let you go. Just tell me where to be and when."

"Okay, sounds good! I'll talk to Lars and hash out the details for you. Awww, did you poop your pants?"

You assume the last part is directed at her infant daughter and not at you, so you hang up the phone with a chuckle. What the hell. You might as well see where this goes.

Where it goes is a local diner one lunchtime. Low-pressure, low-expectation, just two people grabbing a meal and having a talk to see if they hit it off. So why are you so nervous? Why do you keep tugging down the hem of your shirt and smoothing it out, like a little lucky ritual? It's just a coffee, maybe even a coffee and a sandwich, it's not like anything wild is going to happen.

Karin told you Lars would be wearing a brown jacket and a blue sweater. You see the figure sitting at a booth, fiddling with one of the salt shakers.

Then you clock his mustache.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Lars looks up and sees you, and you think he might be liable to actually run away again. His hand goes still, eyes go wide, and he freezes like a deer in the headlights. For a moment the two of you just stare at each other. It's been a couple of weeks since he walked into your shop but there's no mistaking it: sex-store retailer and sex-store customer have been reunited in a warm family diner.

You hold your hands up to show you're not a threat and carefully slink into the other side of the booth. His fingers are tapping now, relentlessly drumming against the table. He might be about to cry.

"Lars?" you ask. He manages the tiniest, stiffest nod. "Hi. Uh. Sorry. If I'd have known, I'd have never…"

You trail off, because… wouldn't you? You thought he was attractive when he was snooping down the aisles and nothing has changed since then. He is hot. Strange, but hot. Perhaps, to you, hot because he is strange.

"… I'm glad to be here with you. Karin said you were really nice and that I'd like you a lot," is what you settle on instead. This is just enough to knock him out of his stupor and he finally looks you in the eye for the first time, ever.

He has nice eyes.

"Oh," is what he manages. A beat. "She said… I'd like you, too."

His fingers slow. He's still nervous, but less likely to bolt.

"And anything… anything done my shop is private. It doesn't leave the walls."

That makes him actually relax. He lets out a breath he must have been holding for some time and his shoulders sag with the relief of it.

"Do you want a coffee?" he asks after a long pause. You smile.

"I'd love that."

You do have a coffee, and then another, then the promised sandwiches. He has pastrami on rye and you go for a grilled cheese which he eyes up. He's too nervous to take your offered bite, so you rip off a tiny corner and place it on the edge of his plate instead. Karin said he had that touch thing, right? You want to be mindful of where his comfort zone lies.

He stares at you after that, a little awestruck, and you think with that one simple gesture you might have won him over completely.

So you go out again, for a walk around the park the next weekend, steaming hot chocolates grasped in gloved hands (he pays for them. He paid at the diner, too, despite your offer to foot the bill). Then you go out again, after that, to the movie theatre in the next town. And then again, and again, and again…

You rarely talk about your work, except to say business is going well, and you certainly don't discuss the fleshlight. But he does touch you. Firstly it's just a pinkie finger linked through yours. Then he works up the nerve to hold your hand. On your third cinema date he puts his arm around you. Some dates after that, he manages to kiss you goodnight. It's quick and clumsy but it's maybe one of the best kisses you've ever had, and you can't get the tickly feeling of his mustache out of your mind.

He seems to be able to get over his issues with touch, slowly but surely. "It usually hurts," he confides one evening as you tangle your legs together, "but not with you. With you it's… good. Nice."

Ever so slowly, as you get used to each other's physical presence, you let him explore you. It's clear he has no experience whatsoever when it comes to intimate relationships - you gather that's why he bought the toy - so you're a willing subject for his experimentations. Nothing penetrative, not yet, but he traces your nipples when you take your shirt off for him, and he lets you palm him through his jeans until he's so hard he has to run outside and chop up an entire tree.

He's so fucking endearing.

A handful of slow, sweet months go by as Lars becomes your boyfriend-proper and the two of you fall into syrupy love with each other. Your affection is so lovey-dovey that people can't help but comment on what a wonderful - if unusual - pair you make. Lars seems more confident with you by his side, too. Karin was right again. You should never have doubted her. Long live Queen Karin and her exceptional skills in matchmaking!

It's late. You're staying over at Lars' and the two of you are snuggled on the sofa watching something on TV. It's not the first time you've spent the night, though it's rare anything racy happens and that is a-ok with you. Cuddling up next to him and falling asleep to his little snores is about as perfect as it can get in your book.

Lars is tracing little patterns on your arm. When he pauses, you can tell he's thinking.

"What's up, honey?"

A moment passes as he tries to find the shape of the words he wants to let fall off his tongue.

"I never used it."

"Used what?" But oh, what a silly question, because you have a pretty damn good idea what he's talking about.

"The… the toy. I never took it out the box. I was… nervous."

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, and when you meet his blown-out pupils, you know what it is he's asking of you. What he's trusting you with.

"Do you want me to show you how?"

His hesitation lasts but a second before he nods.

You're directed to his wardrobe where you find the black crumpled bag hidden in its corner as if it was thrown there in a fit of shame. You take the toy out, and the lube, and carefully cross back over to Lars, grabbing a teatowel on the way for afterwards. When you get to your knees, he gasps.

"It's okay. If you want me to stop, if it gets too much, you just tell me, Lars. Tap my shoulder. I won't mind."

He knows you won't. He knows you so well by now and is so happy to put himself in your hands. He gives another little nod and forces himself to relax as you begin to massage his dick.

You've only seen it a couple of times, usually in low light and under the covers, but you know he's big. He doesn't know that, though, and it's pretty cute. So you take a moment to enjoy his fat cock through his pants, smiling gently as you feel it fill out to its full size beneath your careful touch.

"Okay?"

"Okay," he confirms, so you slowly begin to undo his fly. He yelps a little under his breath but lifts his hips so you're more easily able to pull his slacks down his thighs along with his boxer-briefs. His erection stands upright and hits against his stomach, thankfully not leaving a stain on his knitted sweater.

"I'm going to put some lube on you now, Lars."

"A-alright."

You squirt a generous amount of it into your dominant palm and start to stroke him properly. He squeezes his eyes shut tight at the newness of the experience but gives no indication that he wants to back out. So you keep going, smiling at the way your fingers only just meet around his girth, playing with speeds and grip-strength. Everything is good for him, it seems. Feather-light touches have him gasping, firm ones make him groan. It's a lovely symphony you're able to pull from your Lars' lungs. You wonder what other pretty sounds he can make.

When you let go of him he whines and his hips seem to absent-mindedly chase you, but you soothe him with a kiss dropped to his knee as you begin to lube up the toy.

"Just gotta get it ready, Lars. Nice and wet for your fat cock."

He never knows how to take those sorts of compliments, so he just stutters on a needy noise. Another kiss to his leg as you hook the hole of the fleshlight open. It's pretty standard: a peach-coloured pussy with realistic labia. Nothing new for you, but everything new for Lars. You make a conscious effort to slow down as you grip his cock and line him up.

"You good for me to put you inside it?" you ask. The straightforward dirtiness of your words has him spluttering and unable to meet your gaze again. He nods so fast that his face is a blur of beetroot-red.

You slide the fake cunt over his tip and Lars yowls. You pause, waiting until he can adjust, until his breathing slows from rapid to just fast. Then you slowly lower it the rest of the way and for a moment you're worried he's not going to fit because he's that big, but the toy has your back, and it dutifully seats his entire cock.

"There we go," you hum. "Doing so good for me, Lars. So good."

His balled hands threaten to rip a hole in the sofa's upholstery. The two of you sit there, allowing him to feel every tight inch of it.

"How does it feel?"

"G-good," he acknowledges. "W-will…"

"Hm?"

"Will it f-feel… this good… with y-you?"

Oh, that goes straight between your thighs. He asks it so earnestly that you can't help but fall a little bit deeper in love.

"It'll feel different. Warmer, probably. But we don't need to rush into that. I just want you to enjoy this for now, okay, honey?"

He nods one more time and lets you fuck him properly with it.

You don't go too fast, not at first, he's already excited enough as it is. No need to torture the poor man. Instead you lazily drag the toy up and down his shaft and admire the way the lube drips down into his neatly-trimmed pubic hair and lands on his sac in a little puddle. If you thought he was up to it, you'd lean forwards and lick it up. That might actually kill him though.

When he can take more, you speed up, and he whimpers.

"Good?"

"S-so good… it's… you're…"

He loses control over his sentence as it careens off into stammered, nonsensical praise. From the way his hips twitch and his breath hitches, you think he's about to finish.

"You can come, Lars. Come into this pussy for me."

He does, with a long, ragged moan. Warm spend spills out from around the opening in a salaciously delicious way, and even when he's made a puddle on the sofa he doesn't stop. He comes for what must be a solid twenty seconds before he's totally spent.

Oh so carefully you remove the toy from his cock and wipe him clean with the teatowel. When you gather him into your arms he automatically seeks out the warm, safe space of the place where your shoulder meets his neck so he can bury his face there.

"Was that what you thought it would be, Lars?" you whisper as you stroke his hair.

"Better… because it was with you," he replies, and if you weren't head-over-heels before, you certainly are now.

tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy@sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw @s4turnsb3st @qardasngan@valentine-blue (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)

[endmeprettyplease]

Heartbeat

AN: So I’ve been debating on posting this absolute filth for months but fuck it. Title is based off of Childish Gambino’s song. Also big TW. I’m so sorry. The idea behind this is Tak working through his virtual torture trauma.

Takeshi Kovacs/afab!reader

Warnings: Consensual non-con, smut, p in v sex, afab reader, feminine pet names, breath play, mild knife play, bondage, no y/n.

Summary: You have information that Takeshi wants, you refuse, he gets creative.

Cold. Okay, sore, alright. 

Alive. You were alive, yeah, you could work with that. Panic scrambled all memories of how you had even woken here, wherever here was. Doing your best to focus on all of your training you continued to take stock of yourself. Slowly opening your eyes you saw ugly, dim fluorescent lights and a cracked cement ceiling. Basement maybe? You lifted your arms, the clanking of chains following, pulling tight against your wrists before you could touch your face. 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Your chest seized, sure you could handle a hell of alot but this was bad. Inhaling slowly and deeply you reminded yourself that all the years of work had prepared you for a situation like this. Shifting your legs you found them just as stiff and chained as your arms. Twisting back and forth on what seemed to be a metal table, your clammy skin sticking to the surface. It was then you finally noticed a blindingly obvious fact.  You were naked, completely bare, vulnerable in an unknown location. 

Keep reading

[heresathreebee]

[Takeshi Kovacs X Female Reader] 

Summary: I dunno pink latex and public sex? Not much of a plot in this one Masterlist

Tag(s): unedited/ no beta. 18+ | 4.3k words | Porn without plot, swearing, private sex club setting (voyeuristic), dom/sub dynamic (Sir/Kitten), petting and breast play, collared/light choking, cockwarming, unprotected (please and thank you wear condoms irl) reverse cowgirl, & a little rough at the end. 

“Well, this is backwards.” 

You couldn’t help but agree. For once, it was you standing at his door– about to ask him for his help (not that you needed it… except you totally could use the back up). Still, it irked you to have him point it out. 

“Are you going to let me in, or…?” Tak stepped out of the way and waved you in. "This place is like a prison cell. You live like this?" 

"You shoulda seen the Raven," he jested. His lame joke earned him a very irate lecture from the offended AI. "Relax, Poe, I was saying it was nice. In a luxurious and… macabre sort of way." 

"I would expect nothing less," you gave Poe a smile and asked him where the whiskey was. "Can you give us a moment, Poe?" 

"Certainly," the AI replied. He shot a deathly glare at Tak before disappearing into the ether. 

Now alone with Tak, you pour yourself two fingers and knock it back with a tight grimace. You never liked hard liquors like that, they burned your sinuses like huffing nail polish. But you were going to need it for the road ahead. 

"Since you're not pouring one for me, I assume this isn't a social call." Tak settles himself in a beat up loveseat– the closest thing in the sparse room one could call comfortable. "Should I be worried?" 

"No, no…" you steeled your nerves with a deep breath and your next words came rushing together on the exhale– "I need you… to attend a sort of… party. With me." 

Tak stared at you. 

"For my protection," you finished wishing you had another drink. 

After a long moment, Tak nodded. "Ok." 

"Ok?" Your jaw dropped. "That's it? Just ok?" 

"Pretty much, yeah," he said as he jutted his jaw out to mask the amusement in his face. "Anything else?" 

You sighed hoarsely and plopped yourself on the edge of his bed– more like an army cot really. "Don't– agree to anything yet. You don't know anything about this club…" 

"What's there to know," he shrugged. "I bring my guns, you do whatever it is you're doing, I kill anyone in your way." 

"Well first of all you are most definitely not bringing more than one gun they will not let us past the front door. And secondly…" you slumped against the wall with hot ears, unable to meet his eyes. "It's a club for people with a certain… dynamic." 

That vague explanation only served to make him smile wider. 

___________________________________________

Ok so… maybe your idea to attend this dom/sub party club was a little self indulgent. Anyone from your crew could have gone, but you volunteered. Anyone from your crew could have been your partner, but you sought outside help for this mission. You tried very hard to convince yourself that it was because you were the best one for the job and you wanted to wear an unworn outfit from your closet. 

Takeshi was waiting for you. You found him awash in the neon lights from the soup shop on the corner. He was lighting up his second cigarette and scanning the pedestrians on the street. Finally, his eyes landed on you– and his fresh cigarette landed in a puddle. 

The clicking of your heels slowed to a stop as you reached him and you stood for a long time in awkward silence. "What? What are you looking at?" 

Tak looked at you like you were crazy– did you not know what you were wearing? Instead of commenting, he sighed long and hard. His hand hovered over the exposed strip of skin between your top and your skirt as he guided you to walk beside him. 

"Let's just get this over with," he sighed as his fingers twitched. 

The barbie pink latex of your outfit squeaked with every swish of your hips. Your heels only served to enhance your swagger, and dialing the whole look up to a ten was the spiked pink collar around your throat. Unbeknownst to you, Tak couldn't keep his eyes off of you and he nearly tripped on some street trash. 

"One more thing," you grabbed Tak's arm and pulled him to stop a building away. "We have to sell this. Don Giacomo will never speak with us if we can't play our parts to a tee. Which is why you'll need this."  

You handed him a leash. His face was unreadable as he ran a thumb over the black leather. It was one of many surprises you had sprung on him these past two nights and he was rolling with the punches now. 

"So what should I call you?" 

"Excuse me?"  You had begun to pull Tak into a walk, now feeling a little tingly as your leash brushed over your chest and repeatedly caught on one of your very visible nipples. "What do you mean?" 

"Well," Tak said with a patronizing slowness, "most submissives have pet names.  So what are we thinking? Brat? Princess?” 

You clenched your jaw so tight that it hurt.

“How about Kitten?” You gave Tak a confused look and in answer, he flicked the faux cat ears on your headband. You swallowed your tongue and nodded your approval. His hovering hand finally settled onto your waist and your entire body warmed against the cool night air. “Kitten it is.” 

The bouncers in synth sleeves allowed you entrance with your forged electronic pass. You and Tak walked in sync (with you a tiny little step behind so you could push him forward but look like you were being pulled). You found a set of couches with a perfect vantage point of the entire lounge. There were dozens of people milling about with fancy drinks and staff bringing platters of illicit substances to sample. Exactly the kind of place to get an invite to an even bigger party. 

Or drown in a pool of your own blood. 

Thankfully, Takeshi was there. His hand at your waist grounded you mentally and physically as you both pushed through into the belly of the beast. 

"This seat taken?," Tak asked one of the patrons in this circle set of couches. When a man (a dom by the way his partners hung around him) shook his head, Tak thanked him with a nod and guided you forward. You started to sit on the furniture when you were stopped by a gentle 'tsk' sound. "On the floor, Kitten." 

You stared at Tak. He was enjoying this (of course he was). And you didn't possess the nuance required to pretend like you weren't because to everyone else, you were supposed to enjoy it too (god, you wish his commanding voice didn't make you so weak in the knees). Slowly, you slid to the floor, keeping your eyes trained on his face as you did and watching a flash of approval cross his features. 

He sat on the couch, lounging like he owned the place. One hand behind his head and the other lazing in his lap with the hand hold of the leash around his wrist. At least you weren't the only sub sitting on the floor. 

While Tak chatted up the doms, you surveyed the room. No doubt every surface in here was sticky by the end of every night, there were people having sex left and right. No matter where you looked, somewhere in your peripheral was someone getting blown or eaten out or penetrated. It made your heart race to think it might be needed to blend in… 

"Come here, Kitten." Tak's hand burned as it glided over your shoulder, between the valley of your breasts, and hooked around your waist. 

He pulled you haphazardly into his lap, maneuvering so you were between his legs and draped atop his chest like a human blanket. You smoothed your hands over his hips and captured his arm against you as if to beg him not to let go. It wasn't much of a stretch to your real desires, though, was it? 

You closed your eyes and pretended not to listen to the doms talk. Tak's questions were probing, and his voice rumbled in his chest in a way that made your nipples tighten. Tak, possibly unconsciously, lightly untangled his arm from your grasp and settled his big hand on your boob. The latex squeaked noisily (covering your own helpless squeak beneath it). 

"I've got a nice rotation of subs," said the sleazy Patrick Bateman type dom. "About seven of them. What about you?" 

Tak squeezed your boob again. "Just this one. I like my little Kitten, fits into my hands and around my cock like she was made for it." 

He said that last part into your ear and you peeked your eyes open. The tenting at the apex of his thighs had not gone unnoticed and was poking you insistantly on your back. Tak was looking right at you as he cupped your other breast and squeezed it, as if testing your reaction. 

As if he was asking how far you wanted to take this.

 In answer, you wiggled your hips under the guise of getting comfortable– and consequently rubbed your behind over his hard-on. There was some pride to be taken when Tak swallowed roughly and his eyes went dark. 

He sat up suddenly, thrusting you forward into a sitting position and pressing you hard into chest, effectively trapping you. "Go to the bar and get me a drink, Kitten." 

The fringe of his hair fell into his eyes and he released you to complete your task. You stood up on shaky legs and trotted over to the bar, dodging serves offering other delights. The instant you enter a dark corner, Tak calls you on your oni with an update. 

"Your guy just walked in," he murmured so as not to be heard by others. "How's about you drop off that drink and follow one of his subs to the restroom." 

"What for?" You ordered a whiskey straight and leaned on the bar to coax your skirt back down over your thighs. 

"If you wanna prove we're legit," came his gravelling (slightly smug) whisper, "you're gonna need to take one for the team. And this one is too big to take without some pregame." 

You nearly fell off the bar. You had felt how big his sleeve's thing was… he was bragging but it was deserved. You took a deep breath and prayed a little fingering would be enough. 

The walk from the bar to Takeshi was a blur. You bend at the waist to hand him his drink and he once again petted your strappy top as a reward. "May I go to the little girls room?" 

It felt a little ridiculous to ask but that's the game you were playing now. "Of course, Kitten. Hurry back." 

"Yes, sir." Takeshi's hazel eyes flashed at the honorific. 

Finally, you looked up and saw Don Giacomo entering the club surrounded by at least fifteen subs in neon green leather. Some covered head to toe, others wearing nothing but a strip of it around their necks. A gaggle of feminine presenting ones split off and made for the restrooms in the back. 

Tak wasn't clairvoyant (at least you don't think he is) but the set up worked like a charm. You found an empty stall and fixed your outfit one more time, listening to the subs chatter amongst themselves. 

"Did you see him??" 

"Who? The envoy?" 

"Oh my god, yes! Isn't he just gorgeous?!" 

This! This is the reason you needed to have Takeshi as your partner. He may be wearing a cop's face, but he was beginning to build his own reputation in it (Bancroft's little Meth parties probably helped some too). And it's definitely the only reason that you have found yourself pressing your heated back to the cold metal stall door and massaging your fingers over your inner thigh right now. 

Gotta take one for the team, right? A little pregame– except instead of downing shots of the cheap stuff at home to go get drunk at a bar, you were working yourself open to get dicked down in front of a bunch of gangsters and thugs by the deadliest man in the room. You should have been taking pictures to commemorate the occasion. 

You hiss through your teeth as you stuff two fingers into your entrance. From the moment Tak looked you up and down outside the club, you have been slowly dampening your satin thong to the point of ruin. There's no way your panties survive the night, none! 

___________________________________________

Takeshi was worried. You could take care of yourself, but you were gone for a while and Giacomo was starting to piss him off. He was just like every other fucking Meth– couldn't buy a clue despite his weath and sick in the head. If you weren't back soon, he was going to put a bullet between his eyes. 

That's when Giacomo's hungry eyes flicked from Tak's face to just behind him. You leaned over Tak’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek, and for once Tak let his instincts take over as he gripped the back of your head to pull you into a deeper kiss. He let you go and didn’t miss the way your pulse seemed to be pounding uncontrollably. 

“Missed you, Kitten,” he whispered against your lips, “thought you fell in.” 

Unconsciously, you rolled your eyes in front of everyone. “Starting to sound like my dad.” 

Kovacs didn't take offense or pretend to, he just chuckled and guided you around the couch. You were surprised when his hold changed from your hand to your hips and even more surprised when he seated you between his legs again. You settled back against him and it was like you never left. 

"My my," Don Giacomo purred patronizingly, "now that is endearing, isn't it?" 

You could tell by the way he was eyeing you up, he meant your sleeve. You resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze– it was your birth sleeve, with no visual enhancements like Meths could afford for their partners. You were shapely in areas and flat in others, your body bore scars and signs of aging and, well, life. You would not be shamed for that. 

Indeed, how could you feel any shame at all with the way Takeshi Kovacs caressed and held you? There was something worshipful and praising in his touch, not just over your erogenous zones but everywhere. Everywhere that his body made contact with yours filled you with a sense of reverence. You were something important, something special to him. His touch set your world on fire. 

"Don Giacomo, you never finished telling that story about that time you shot Dimi the Twin." One of the doms was eager to engage with the don and thankfully chose his favorite topic– a story about himself. While Giacomo was setting the scene, Tak was about to make one… 

“Hm, Tak?,” you frantically whispered. You were fine with Tak’s warm hands sliding down over your thighs, but then he was pulling the latex of your skirt up and exposing you to your company. “What are you doing?” 

"Whatever I wanna do," he answered back loud enough for your couch neighbors to hear. "Think you can handle a little job for me, Kitten?" 

You clenched your thighs to put pressure where you needed it (and consequently trap one of his hands between them). You couldn't gather the sense to speak so you looked up at him and nodded. Tak's eyes were soft and dark as he finally pulled your skirt over your hips and helped you sit up. 

The first instruction he gave was nonverbal– a small thrust of his hips that forced you to direct your attention to the straining bulge of his pants. Your hands were shaking from excitement as you struggled to remove the button from its hole. Tak offered no help, he only smirked and admired the way your breast jiggled from the force of breaking the button free. 

As you slid your hand inside his underwear to free his cock, Tak's voice came low and sultry. "What I want you to do is take that pretty, little cunt of yours–" 

You gasped as his hand clamped around your throat to maneuver you up to your feet and to slide down onto his thick shaft. 

"-- and keep my cock nice…" he grunted as you clenched around him unexpectedly, "and warm." 

With trembling thighs and shaking breath, you forced yourself to relax at the sudden intrusion. Tak was big. As in: oh fuck I thought I could eat a foot long sandwich but it turns out 12 inches is way too much. You sink down three more inches on him and gasp as his girth stretches you further and further. The rough scrape of the calluses on his hands was the only thing keeping your soul tethered to your body but not for long. 

“OooOOOh fuuuuck!” 

Tak’s big hands gently hold you as his hips raised to insert the rest of his cock. Luckily, the thickest part of his cock was the middle and the rest passed with ease. Once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolled back into your head and you almost, almost came from the exhilaration of it all. 

"Good girl, Kitten," Tak praised, "goood girl. Now stay just like that. Stay still." 

Stay still? Stay still?! How the hell were you supposed to stay still? Sure, for a minute or two you needed to adjust, but then? Then he was under you and inside of you, stretching you out with an appendage begging to be rode on. And he wanted you to just sit on it?! 

Good girls obey but this was torture. You tried laying on top of him for a while. He continued to make light conversation with your target and ignored the ache and squeeze of your wet canal. When laying against him became too hot to bear, you shifted back into the seated position making both of you groan. Tak put a hand on your belly in warning. 

One swivel of your hips and his cock dragged with sweet sweet relief just a tiny bit. You didn't move further and the doms went back to talking, although you definitely caught them looking at you. A chill went up your spine for a moment– you had forgotten about the hundreds of eyes around you– and yet you felt a sudden greedy pride at your position. 

You were Tak's little Kitten, no one else would take him like you were doing now. They couldn't because he was yours. At least for now. 

You're not sure how many dizzying minutes passed with you breathing in circles and meditating on the small discomfort of being stuffed full, but eventually, you yelped embarrassingly loud as Tak hooked a thick forearm around your waist and sat up. 

The first words he had said to you in an hour were whispered filth. "I'm so proud of you, Kitten, you did so good sitting on my cock. You ready to come on it now?" 

"Yes sir," your voice was scratchy as the desperation of your words clawed their way up your throat. "Please make me come." 

Tak's hold on your waist hardened and he held your legs open by hooking them over his knees. "Show these people how good I can make you feel." 

And just like that, there were suddenly three fingers rubbing circles and putting pressure on your neglected clit. You growled and whimpered at the onslaught of pleasure, hips bucking for more friction and fingers clawing at the arm holding you down. He wasn't going to let you ride him after all, but he was definitely going to make you come. 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, sir!" You managed to wrap an arm around his broad shoulders to support yourself and inadvertently open him up to access your chest. He stopped touching you for only a second to rip your top down and expose your breasts, then dropped  his hand back to the task and sucked a nipple into his mouth. 

You were a babbling mess, the panties he pushed to the side were cutting into your thigh and you just needed a tiny bit more. Which is of course the exact moment Tak chose to bounce you lightly in his lap and finally give you what you needed to finish. And finish you did– with a massive scream. 

Your vision turned black with dancing stars, gravity shifted and your throat was raw as your entire being convulses. Wave after wave of pleasure assaulted you, brought you to the edge of consciousness before dialing back again. You were barely aware of your labored breathing or the electricity still firing through your body. 

You come back to reality with your face no more than a foot from the floor. Your breaths came in ragged form as you tried to remember where you were. The only thing grounding you is Tak's strong grip. Gently, he pulled out of you and cradled you to his chest as you came back down from your orgasm. 

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, "we didn't mean to interrupt. Go on, don, you were at the part where you had your gun drawn." 

The don looked flustered and Tak was a little surprised to intuit it was his fault. That is until he remembered one of the many wild things he had said earlier– that all of his subs had once been doms. Giacomo would have eaten Tak alive if he wasn't so hell bent on finishing his favorite power trip story. As he started talking again, Tak picked you up and pressed his lips to your ear. 

“My turn now, Kitten,” he whispered and delighted in the needy little whimper that bubbled up from your chest. “You ok if I do that?" 

Your body was hyper sensitive and aware of every texture that grazed  your skin from the rough and borderline painful pinch of your latex to the canvas material of his pants to the stubble on his chin and the hairs on his forearm. Still, you managed a weak nod and steeled yourself for what came next. 

Tak kissed your salty brow and gently maneuvered you to lay down on the floor. it was as you had predicted earlier a little sticky, but your head was too full of clouds to lift yourself off the ground or change your mind. The only thing supporting you was Tak's strong grip, holding you up on your knees and pulling his pants down to his midthigh. 

As his cock slid back inside you, you managed only a small pitiful moan and took it. Tak closed his eyes as he slid home, amazed at just how slick and stretched out you were for him. He leaned over the glass coffee table for support and glanced through it to find your fucked out face and taking mental inventory of the way your mouth hung open with a little drool spilling out. He was going to stop but gave one gentle, slow thrust to test the waters and watched your eyes roll back in pleasure and knew he couldn't. 

Don Giacomo rambled on but all either of you could think of was your earthly connection. 

Normally the deliberately slow pace that Rick had chosen would have done nothing for him, but this time he felt his pulse quicken and a familiar sensation creep up his spine. You were so pliable beneath him, taking everything he gave you and following his every order. Tak bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted copper and knew he was done for. 

It was mere minutes before Tak's almost loving thrusts stopped. You felt the man push into you as deep as he could to fill you up and your oversensitive pussy milked him greedily for all he had, even managing the own light, rhythmic flutter of a second orgasm that ripped a broken groan from your spent partner. 

The rest of the night passed on as a blur to you. You could recall being cradled to his broad chest, the feeling of his come spilling out between your thighs, and the cool night air on your sweaty skin when he carried you out of the club. 

When you opened your eyes and saw painted walls and soft cotton sheets on an unfamiliar bed, you reached out for him. "Tak? Where… where are we?" 

Tak shushed you and carefully divested you of your clothes and his own before carrying you into a fancy bathroom to a tub filled to the brim with bubbles. "Don't ever tell Poe I brought you here, he would freak." 

So in some high class hotel, Tak helped you unwind and ground yourself from that special sub headspace that he brought you to earlier. He massaged soap to your skin and peppered sweet kisses on your shoulder until intelligence, awareness, and control returned to you. Once you were finally able to hold your head up by yourself, Tak told you that you got the invite you were looking for. 

"You did such a good job for me, sweetheart," he whispered the praise in his gravelly voice and helped you dry off before depositing you back on the bed to turn out all the lights. 

You didn't speak until he was back in your arms and revelled in the way his warmth seeped into your bones and caused you to drift close to sleep in seconds. 

"Call me Kitten now, ok," you murmured from the edge of consciousness. 

You missed the way Tak smiled with abandon, and he dropped a quick kiss to your collarbone to hide his face from view. "Yes, Kitten." 

@babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @lorecraft

[livingdxadwriter]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Spinning

Takeshi Kovacs x Reader

After an argument with Tak you're grabbed and taken into a VR clinic

The hard concrete bit into your knees when the chains around your wrists were pulled roughly, slamming you down. You gulped in a breath of air before looking up to face your captors. "Back again? How many times does this make?" you'd lost count of how many times they'd killed you in here or how many different ways.

These assholes were creative. You had to hand it to them. "Once he comes for you it will go no further" The one who spoke had been the most creative. He was just slightly taller than you, bright green hair and eyes to match with pointed teeth that looked almost feline.What the hell kind of mods his sleeve had gotten in the real you didn't want to know if he actually looked like that.

You knew the risks, knew what you were facing. Sleeve death was the absolute best option, their goal would be more than likely to either break your mind completely or true death once they were finally through with you. "And who was that again?" you asked and was rewarded with a kick to your jaw. You fell backwards, curling into yourself as far as the chains would allow. You wished they would just get on with it at this point "The envoy"

You laughed painfully, rolling over onto your side to spit out a mouthful of blood "Takeshi? You think he would waste time coming after me?" another one moved forward, this one was a lot bigger, taller than Tak and just as broad. He also had a penance for knives.

He snatched you to your feet by your hair "You're his whore, are you not?" you grunted from pain but didn't respond until a knife appeared in his hand and you sucked in a shuddered breath in anticipation of what was to come "For the last time, I don't matter to him. No one does. I'm nothing more than a means to an end. Fuckin kill me and be done with it" he grinned "Where's the fun in that?" before slamming the knife into your heart.

-----------------------------------

You gasped when air flooded your lungs and you found yourself chained to a bed this time. They'd restarted the simulation and were going to kill you again, however many times it took for either your mind to break or Tak to come after you and you knew which would happen first.

His words from your last argument rang through your mind I don't need you. I don't want you. You're a distraction. That is all. at least he'd get his wish.

You heard the men begin to chatter, their voices drifting from every corner of the room followed by the sounds of their favorite toys being dragged out to play. "JUST KILL ME ALREADY"

A sudden burst of white light had your head spinning, unsure if this was the real or just another game your captors had thought up in an attempt to break you.

You forced your eyes open past the pain trying to keep them closed and was met with the sight of Elliot working to unhook you from the machines keeping you locked into the virtual loop. The sounds of fighting and the heavy copper scent of blood tinged the air. "Are you really here?" You breathed and he smiled up at you as the final restraint gave way "I am. Now we got to go"

He moved to help you sit up and a wave of nausea hit you as soon as your feet hit the floor. Just how long had you been under? "We've been looking for two days" he spoke without you having to ask as he moved to shift a shoulder under your arm and help you to stand, just as the door across the room burst open and green hair was thrown through it, a gaping hole through where his stack once was.

"Looks like your guy is about through" he grunted as the two of you headed towards the door and you managed a weak "He's not my guy" in return before the carnage in front of you stole any other thought once you got a clear view of the clinic. Amongst it all was Tak, blood covering his once white shirt as he stood over what seemed to be the last person remaining "Touching her? That's where you fucked up" despite being well acquainted with violence you flinched when the gun fired and pieces of the sleeve splattered across the floor.

His eyes tracked the room, no doubt scanning to be certain the threat was over before landing on you and Elliot. The question was clear in his expression so you gave a small nod.

After Poe did a quick once over of your vitals and confirmed physically you were unharmed, just in need of nutrients and hydration you headed up to a room he told you was all set up for you. As much as you wanted distance from Tak you wanted to sleep somewhere safe even worse. You could handle yourself for the most part but knowing anyone had to get past an envoy, a murderous hotel and a marine with a lot of pent up anger helped your feelings.

You weren't sure what had woke you up at first, Poe had brought food hours before and Elliot wouldn't venture up. You turned over on your side and almost allowed sleep to pull you back under before you realized you weren't alone in your room. You didn't say anything to acknowledge his presence, you knew you didn't have to. The moment your breathing changed he knew you were awake. "How are you feeling?" his deep voice wrapped around you the moment he spoke. "I'm fine Tak, You didn't have to check on me"

The nod he gave was damn near imperceivable in the darkened room "Poe dug around a little while he was checking you" you knew what he meant so you pushed yourself up the bed into a seated position with your back against the headboard to be able to face him fully "How many times?" he finally tore his gaze from where they had been glued to his hands to your face and you could see the anger hidden in his hazel eyes "Too many" you shrugged one shoulder "At least we finally have something in common" you knew from the way he looked at you that your sense of humor had again fallen flat to the envoy.

"Why did you turn your oni off?" you knew the question was coming. If you would've had it on it would've been easy enough for him to find you faster but you had stupidly let your emotions get the best of you and it had cost you. "Wasn't expecting half a dozen idiots to corner me in an alley. Assholes drugged me with something" he leaned forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees "About what I said.." you cut him off by throwing the blankets off your legs and pushing yourself to the edge of the bed "It's fine Tak"

You tried to stand up but somewhere between being drugged, tortured and killed multiple times added in with the dehydration and nutrient depletion made your legs decide they needed another nap despite you wanting to take a shower. Before your body could follow your knees in buckling Tak was on his feet, slipping one arm under your knees and the other under your shoulders. You allowed yourself the moment of your head resting agaisnt his chest as he took the couple steps back to the bed to gently place you on it "I think you need a little more rest"

The moment the warmth of his body left yours you reminded yourself he didn't want you, he came for you simply because that was the type of man he was. He hated anyone getting tied up in his shit despite his teachings that any and all were disposables as long as the mission was accomplished. You rolled your eyes up to look him in the eye "There's that famous envoy intuition" his lips twitched up somewhere between a smile and a smirk "Yeah" he looked back towards the door "I'll let you rest"

You managed a small smile "Thank you, for that and for coming for me" he reached down to gently brush back some of the hair that had fallen into your face "I'll always come for you"

You didn't say anything just turned away from him and pulled the blanket up around yourself. You heard his footsteps as he walked across the floor and right before the door opened you heard him say "I never meant what I said. You just deserve better than me" before you could turn over the door closed and he was gone leaving your head spinning worse than it already was.

[bluemuffin-draws]

Eva Strapp or whatever

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[ivyfantasize]

“Hes a stalker and killed people”

Hey at least he’s not a red pilled incel