˗ˏˋ ❝ NEVER EVER GONNA GET YOUR BITCH BACK ❞ ‧₊˚
- kinktober 25’
pairing: tim drake/reader
tw: best friend!tim, feelings first/sex last, fingering, dry humping, markings, hint of switch reader, squirting, rough sex, multiple orgasms, cockdrunk, video-taping, unprotected sex, riding, doggy-style, squint of dirty talk, dumbification, spanking, one-time slapping, hint of dacryphilia, making you scream his name !
➤ synopsis: Tim was genuinely sick of your fuck-ass boyfriend, sick of the way you’ve cried about the last-minute excuses on your date nights, doesn’t communicate with you, or isn’t there emotionally. His last straw was the fact you’ve had sex with the guy and he didn’t pull an orgasm out of you. Tim is going to change that.
dc kinktober list wc: 6.2k
There’s a lot Tim Drake loves, though most of it comes with a cost. His overdriven brain is a prime example. He loves to observe, form hypotheses, conduct research and experiments, analyze, and draw conclusions that allow him to establish facts. Another is his love for caffeine, it doesn’t have to be coffee; it could be energy drinks that he tends to consume when gaming, tea when it’s night, soda when he’s hanging out, or chocolate-covered espresso beans if he’s in the mood to watch a movie marathon.
Is it a bit unhealthy? Yes.
Did he get taken off a case in order to stop neglecting himself?
Fortunately, yeah.
Tim loves his family in the same way, carefully and completely.
He knows Dick hums under his breath when he’s cooking breakfast whenever he quickly stops by in Blüdhaven at his apartment, usually old rock music no one else recognizes. Jason taps his pointer finger twice against the table before saying something he genuinely means, it’s usually a translation to “fine, I guess I trust you” or “stay safe.”
Damian had researched a ton of beneficial foods for Titus, giving him fish oil and glucosamine to help his joints and other health supplements, softening once he realized what Titus actually meant for him.
Steph leaves sticky notes on everyone’s doors with dumb doodles or reminders, half of them written in glitter pen. Cass falls asleep on the couch mid-movie but somehow always wakes up just before the credits. And Bruce— he checks the locks twice or thrice before bed, every night, like it’s the one thing he can still control.
Alfred folds everyone’s laundry differently, Bruce’s neat and military, Damian’s quick and simple, Tim’s sleeves tucked in carefully because Alfred knows he tends to forget and make it wrinkled.
And Duke leaves lights on for him when he’s still up working, even though he jokes about the power bill.
Tim notices all of it.
The sounds, the gestures, the quiet consistencies that build a life. That’s how he loves them: not through words, but through knowing. Through memorizing the rhythm of their days. Through paying attention, even when no one’s looking.
There’s a lot Tim Drake loves.
Timothy Jackson Drake loves you.
He’s been in love with you for nearly two years.
Though, he’d never say it out loud.
Words make things real, and real things can fall apart.
So instead, he watches.
He learns.
He knows the way your expression changes when you’re trying not to laugh, how your eyes dart to the side first, like you’re hiding it from him. He knows you always take your caffeinated drink too hot and regrets it every time, but you’ll still do it again tomorrow.
He knows you can’t sit still when you’re nervous, that you twist your rings or tap your foot in a steady rhythm, and he pretends not to notice because calling attention to it would make you stop.
He doesn’t want you to stop.
He loves the small things, the ordinary ones. The way your voice sounds through his ear piece when you’re half-asleep while he’s out as Red Robin, staking outside a warehouse. The way you hum while scrolling through your phone, smiling widely when you read the comments. The way you always forget where you put your keys, and the way he always remembers.
He stores these moments like evidence, quiet proof of something he’ll never admit.
That’s how Tim loves: silently, methodically, and with too much care for his own good.
And then, there’s one thing that Tim hates.
Queue the sound of agony.
Your boyfriend.
Your relationship with your fuckass (ex) boyfriend.
It was some guy that he couldn’t even bother to remember the name of. You’ve cried over the last-minute excuses, the texts that came hours late, the way your boyfriend always says he’s busy but never tells you with what. You’ve tried to understand, to give him space, but the space just keeps getting wider. He cancels date nights because “something came up,” and when you ask what, he just shrugs it off.
You’ve thankfully broken up with him a week ago, but yesterday happened.
It was one of those nights when Tim came over after you’d stopped trying to hide the fact that you’d been boiling beneath the surface, a fire laced in your veins after yesterday.
The wrath hadn’t faded; it had just settled into a low, simmering heat that made it impossible to focus on anything else.
He’d brought your favorite drink and queued up your comfort show, the one you always turned to when things fell apart. He didn’t bring wine or beer, because he knew you hated both the taste and the smell. Instead, he just sat there beside you, quiet and steady, as if his being there could make the room feel whole again.
“I hate him.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them. The room went still, except for the faint noise from the TV. You glared at the fruit bowl sitting on the coffee table, the one you made because you didn’t like how popcorn kernels get stuck in between your teeth or the fact it’ll have you in a coughing-fit because it went down wrong.
“I absolutely hate him.”
You took another sip from the drink Tim brought, letting the sweetness coat your tongue.
“C’mon, you don’t actually mean that.” Tim winced, feeling the lack of empathy in his words.
Hollow. Easy. Fake.
“You sound constipated when you say that, Tim.” You snort, making him flush immediately, a rush of pink creeping up his neck.
“Well—no, actually—yeah, you’ve caught me.” He sighed, glancing toward you, eyes glancing away as if he were trying to measure how much to reveal. “I don’t like the fact that he practically got tickets to your favorite band… only to end up with his ex.”
You groaned in frustration.
“Don’t even piss me off with that bullshit! They don’t even like the band like WE do. I can’t even believe we had to see them in the pit! THE PIT!” You’ve emphasized, recalling the events when you both watched the man suck on his ex’s face while everyone around them looked horrified from the display.
Tim was happy that it wasn’t you and him.
You gripped the glass cup so tightly your knuckles flexed, and Tim flinched from that, his eyes flicking to it nervously. He could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, the kind that made him want to reach out, to take the glass from your hands before it shattered under your grip.
“I can’t believe I was with him for nearly five months, and it’s obvious he’s been in contact with his ex even before we broke up,” you grumbled under your breath. “It’s not even about his ex— it’s about how he practically wasted my damn time!”
Tim’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed quiet, letting you vent.
You looked like you wanted to strangle someone.
“Not only that, he has the audacity to ask to get back together?!”
Tim automatically could feel his jaw tighten as he watched the raw fury radiate off you, the kind that made the air between you almost tremble.
“He… what?” he blinked, furrowing his brows with his voice low, careful, almost like testing the waters. “He asked to get back together?”
What kind of a humiliation ritual was he trying to do?
You let out a harsh laugh, more disbelief than humor. “Can you believe it? After everything? After what he’s done? Does he think I’m stupid?” You ran your hand through your hair, tugging at the strands as if trying to wring out the anger.
“Especially sending a sex-tape of them together because I said ‘no’? Do you know how crazy you have to be to act like that? As if it’s my fault?”
Tim’s jaw dropped in disbelief, eyes wide as he stared at you. You were about to explain, to tell him every detail, but he cut you off before a single word left your mouth.
“Hold on, he’s tried to what? I can’t believe he would disrespect you to that degree!” Tim inhaled, waving his hand around. “That’s disgusting of him and a straight-up juvenile.” Tim exhaled sharply, shaking his head, the tension in his shoulders radiating frustration.
You opened your mouth, but he continued to speak, stopping you. “He’s an absolute piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you whatsoever, clearly he doesn’t know what an absolute mistake he made.” Tim scoffs, rambling on. “It hurts to think about the fact that someone could be so blind to what they had.” It was your turn to stare in disbelief, hearing Tim’s frustration pour out.
The idiot thinks he can walk back into your life like it’s nothing?
His voice dropped slightly, quieter now but still thick with emotion, raw and unfiltered. “And I’m not just talking about the stupid concert tickets, or the texts, or the ex. I’m talking about everything he’s done to make you feel small, like your time, your feelings, like you don’t matter at all. And it makes me so utterly furious I can’t even… I can’t even stand it!”
He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight with memories of pure torture of the last 4 and a half months you’ve been with him, holding his gaze towards you.
You stare at him in confusion.
“Tim?”
Your voice was quiet, uncertain, but it cracked something in him.
His heart, the one he had spent years barricading behind layers of logic and restraint, finally tore free from its confinement. The pressure that had lived in his chest for months burst open, flooding his veins with a heat that made his pulse thunder in his ears.
His throat felt tight, breath uneven, as if every word he had swallowed down was clawing its way out at once. All those careful walls he had built, every line of logic meant to keep him safe were cracking apart, and his emotions were spilling through the gaps, wild and uncontrollable, faster than his mind could catch them.
“I…” He stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck, his breath uneven. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just…” He exhaled sharply with wavering eyes. “You have no idea how hard it is to sit here and watch you fall apart over someone who never even tried to understand you. And I’m supposed to be your friend, right? Just your friend. But I can’t. I can’t keep pretending that’s enough anymore.”
“Tim… are you—”
“You’re too good for him. You’re too smart, too kind, too… everything. And I swear, if he ever gets another chance, I’ll—” He stopped, shaking his head again, struggling to contain the whirlwind of anger, frustration, and something else he didn’t want to confess.
Oh, fuck it.
He leaned closer now, closer than before, the heat of his frustration mixing with something heavier, something softer. “I can’t just watch you get hurt by someone who doesn’t deserve you. And… I can’t lie to you anymore.”
Your whole attention was on him, drawn to the heavy quiet that filled the space between you. Tim’s hands gripped his knees, knuckles white, his chest rising and falling too fast, like he was trying to hold himself together.
Is he drunk? Insane?
What the hell is he even thinking?
“Are you in love with m—”
“I’m in love with you.”
You both stared at each other, frozen in place, as silence swallowed the room whole.
It clung to the air, dense and suffocating, wrapping around every sound until even the faint hum of the refrigerator felt too loud. The air was heavy with everything unspoken, the kind of stillness so fragile that a single breath, a shift in weight, a pin falling to the floor could have shattered it completely.
Fuck, he definitely fucked up the friendship now.
“I’m sorry, I— I should go.”
His voice cracked midway, the words stumbling out before his brain could filter them. He pushed up from where he sat, fingers trembling slightly, trying to avoid your eyes as if looking at you might make it all worse.
Before he could take a step, you moved.
The sound of his apology faded when you reached out, catching him by the sleeve, and pulled him towards you.
The kiss wasn’t graceful, nor kind.
It was desperate and messy and full of everything that had gone unsaid. His breath caught, body stiff for a heartbeat, not sure how to react before his hands fell above your waist, wanting to be respectful while he tries to process what’s happening, not believing any of this was real.
Yet, it was very real— the both of you didn’t need to say anything, starved with kisses he’s been wanting to taste for the last two years. There was a faint sweetness on your lips; the lingering taste of the drink he’d brought you, mixed with the hint of your favorite fruit. It was familiar and intoxicating all at once, something soft and warm that made his head spin.
His hands continued to hover above your waist, fingers trembling with restraint.
You could feel how careful he was, how he was trying not to overstep— his touch respectful, reverent, and almost shy.
It was so him that it made something ache in your chest.
So you reached for him. Your hands slid up his arms, grounding him, before guiding his touch lower— a quiet, unspoken permission that made his breath stutter against your lips. He froze for just a heartbeat, eyes wide with disbelief, before he melted into you again, his restraint unraveling thread by thread.
“You don’t wanna know how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”
“How long? Tim?”
“Eternity."
You’ve spent the last hour making out on the couch, you were laying on your back, your hands lightly wrapped around his neck while Tim was above you, his arms resting beside your head.
Breathless and panting, your foreheads rested together, the air between you heavy with the sound of uneven breathing and the faint thrum of your racing hearts. His lips were still parted, his eyes half-lidded, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
You stared at him, really stared at him, taking in every detail you’d never let yourself linger on before: the faint flush along his cheekbones, the shaky rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes fluttered when he tried to catch his breath.
And then, slowly, Tim pulled away, your hands falling.
His arms, which had been bracing the sides of your head, had shifted to rest gently beside your thighs, a quiet, possessive presence.
“Gosh,” you laughed, the sound light and full of happiness, your eyes shining as you looked at him.
There was something about the way you were right there, so close, that made his chest ache with adoration.
“That alone would’ve made me cum, but that’s something I wouldn't know.” You mentioned it off-handingly as if it was nothing, like it wasn’t a regular thing when it came to sex.
Tim hoped you were joking, but you rarely talked about your sex-life like this.
Tim frowned, sliding his hand back and forth on the side of your thighs in comfort. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had an orgasm before.” A look of concern washed over his face when you shrugged effortlessly, like it wasn’t a major concern.
“I just… use my fingers after he’s done? Is that bad?”
Wow.
That was the craziest thing he’s ever heard.
That dumbass was really just a pretty face with nothing to offer.
Tim sighed, leaning down slowly, his hands sliding up to rest lightly on your waist while his lips traced against your collarbone until he rested his chin there, his nose softly brushing against your neck with every quiet exhale.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, voice low and rough in your ear, shivering under him with a silent gasp.
“Tim, what are you trying to do—” your eyes flutter shut when you feel his wet kisses across your throat, your jaw, the corner of your lips, teasing the fact he won’t steal your lips.
And his hands, slowly gliding your shirt back and forth, not taking it off with the bare knuckles lightly touching the warmth of your skin.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He chuckles, “all you have to do is ask.” You felt the back of your neck warming with the implication.
Was this too fast?
No, it wasn’t.
“C’mon,” he whispered softly, his voice gliding like honey.
“I’ll give it to you if you just ask.”
The sound of it made you melt under his touch.
There was something in the way he spoke, every word dipped in patience and quiet devotion, flowing over you like sunlight breaking through soft clouds. His voice carried a rhythm that made the air hum, tender and endless, as if the world itself was listening. It felt timeless, sacred even, the way he cherished you, as though you were something precious he had spent his whole life searching for.
Yet, you wanted to drop it with sin.
Tim was caught off-guard as you grabbed him, your grip firm yet gentle, and quickly flipped him so his back pressed against the plush cushions of the couch. His eyes met the tiny, rebellious strands of your hair that danced across your face, clinging to the warmth of your cheeks. Your hands, soft and assured, lay across his chest, fingers splayed as if to capture every beat of his heart.
“You think I was going to beg?”
You questioned, tilting your head slightly down at him with a playful expression.
“Fuck.”
He cursed under his breath, his body tensing as you leaned into him, your lower-half glides teasingly across his tent, sending waves of pleasure through his veins. His hands, driven by urgency, grasped the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it as you complied, your body rising to meet the cool air. With a fluid motion, you slipped the shirt over your head, revealing the smooth, unadorned expanse of your chest.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing covered your perky nipples.
Tim's eyes widened, his mouth falling open as he took in the sight.
“Are you trying to kill me?" he breathed, his voice a mix of awe and desperation.
You quietly laughed, the vibrations traveling through your body, resonating in your moving hips and sending a new wave of sensation coursing through both of you.
He moaned, shutting his eyes for a brief moment of bliss. His hands held onto your tits as if they’re lifelines.
“Mm’, maybe," you murmured, your voice low and teasing.
You continued to grind against him, the fabric of your clothes creating a tantalizing friction. Each deliberate movement sent waves of sensation through both of you, the barrier of clothing only intensifying the anticipation.
The rhythm of your hips against his, slow and purposeful, drew out a low groan from deep within him, a sound that vibrated against your skin, heightening the already charged atmosphere.
Tim could no longer contain himself, his need to feel your skin against his own became an overwhelming urge. The rough material of his pants, once a sense of pleasure with you on top of him, now felt like a cruel barrier, each movement against you sends jolts of frustration through his body, lifting his hips to chase what’s behind the fabric.
“Fuck, I need you right now.”
Tim's strong hands grip your thighs firmly as he lifts you effortlessly, his fingers digging into your soft skin. You gasp as your body is suddenly suspended in the air, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist for support. The sudden movement causes your breasts to press against his chest, the thin fabric of your clothing barely a barrier between your heated skin.
“You better take me, then.” You whispered against his lips.
You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers find the muscles of his shoulders, digging in slightly as you hold on tight. You can feel the tension in his body, the power coiled beneath his skin as he holds you effortfully. His breath is hot on your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers your name, his voice low and husky with desire.
Your heart races as you feel the prominent hardness of his body against yours, the evidence of his arousal pressing into you. You shift slightly, your hips moving against him, eliciting a low groan from deep in his throat.
His hands move to your ass, squeezing and kneading as he supports your weight, his fingers tracing the curve of your flesh.
As Tim carries you towards the bedroom, his lips find yours in a passionate, hungry kiss. Your mouths move together in a dance of desire, your tongues exploring and tasting each other. The world outside ceases to exist as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.
He kicks open the bedroom door, his mouth never leaving yours as he walks you backwards towards the bed. The room is dimly lit, casting shadows across the walls and creating an intimate atmosphere. He gently lowers you onto the mattress, your body sinking into the softness beneath you.
As he pulls away, you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. With a swift, fluid motion, he pulls it over his head, revealing the muscular contours of his chest and abs. The light from the bedside lamp plays across his skin, highlighting the defined lines of his muscles.
Your eyes trace the v-line until it ends, your breath catching as he drags them and lets them fall to the floor. He stands before you in his boxers, the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his arousal. You can see the outline of his erection, straining against the cotton, and your mouth goes dry at the sight.
You needed him to fuck you.
Like now.
To the point that you won’t be able to walk.
As Tim dips his knee into the bed, he slowly crawls towards you, his movements deliberate and purposeful. His hand finds the hem of your shorts, hooking his finger on your underwear, and with a gentle yet firm pull, he slides them down your legs. The fabric glides against your skin until it’s thrown somewhere in your room, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
You unconsciously obstruct his view, Tim scoffs, putting his hands against your knees to slowly push them apart.
“Don’t hide from me.”
And what a sight it was for Tim.
Goosebumps littered across the warmth of your skin, lips wet and parted. There was a slight tremor in your legs when he held them apart and every shaken breath you took, glimpsing the way your bare chest rose and fell rapidly from his intense gaze.
The sight alone made his dick twitch.
Tim was so sure that all he had to do was graze a single finger down your skin would be all that was needed to make you shiver in his hands.
“Tim, are you going to—”
You moaned, his thumb presses on your clit and you have to do your best not to spasm. "Oh, fuck," you moan in sweet, sweet relief.
Tim has been waiting for this for too long, much too long, meanwhile you feel that you're going to come undone much embarrassingly quickly.
Slowly, Tim slides one finger into you, then two, and your body trembles in pleasure and obvious relief. Nights alone with your hand between your legs just doesn't cut it anymore, not when you've been introduced with fingers that work so much better than yours.
“Look at you, soaked from what? Us? Grinding on me?” Tim mumbled, dragging the pads of his fingertips against your walls.
You’re in a whole different dimension, your mouth openly panting into the air with half-lidded eyes, watching his predatory gaze on you.
A delicacy.
A show he's enjoying.
"So tense," Tim muses, and he kisses your neck as he starts shifting his fingers out and then back in, slow and purposeful. Each stroke is measured; each point of pressure is planned.
"Tim," you whisper, but then he bites down on your neck and you whimper.
Thankfully, it doesn't seem like he's planning on teasing you for long, because Tim starts working his fingers at a decent pace. He hits your sensitive spot every time, causing you to moan breathlessly into his ear, which is a blessing to know that you’re like this because of his undoing.
Tim’s mouth assaults the top of your breasts, leaving marks before he latches onto your nipples, his hot mouth providing a stimulus that has you going absolutely bat-shit crazy.
It's almost embarrassing how fast your orgasm builds up in you once he adds a third finger. You choke on air as he opens you up, his fingers tearing you apart from the inside.
“Oh my fuck—”
You're dizzy with sensation, the three fingers almost too much for you to handle. It's not the thickness, it's the fucking pressure.
Tim’s hitting every spot, every pressure point, like he's mapped you out and knows exactly what to touch to get you to moan.
"You’re so noisy," he breathes against your collarbone, and you cry as his thumb presses down on your clit. He draws a torturously slow circle on your clit and you clamp down around him. "C'mon, I need you to come."
You feel it, that burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, the signs that your climax is approaching, and you rake your nails down his back, hissing through your teeth. "Fuck," you choke as he twists his fingers inside of you.
“On my fingers, come on them.”
His teeth bite lightly onto your collarbone before sucking to leave a beautiful purple mark.
"Fuck, Tim, please, I'm- I'm going to-"
His mouth breaks off of your skin just so he can whisper, "so do it, then."
You do. White streaks blind your vision as blissful ecstasy seizes your body, rippling through it like waves. Your orgasm feels heavenly, after so much build up and so much tension. You moan as Tim’s fingers work you through your climax, eventually slowing down in time with you as your body relaxes.
You take deep gulps of air, trying to resupply the oxygen to your brain, wondering how the fuck Tim made you come quickly.
Fuck, you wonder what he’s like when he’s fucking you mean.
You could feel yourself clenching from the thought without realizing his fingers still laid within you.
“You want me to fuck you mean?” Tim quirks an amusing brow, making you realize your thoughts might’ve escaped faster than your mouth could.
“That was something you weren’t meant to hear,” you quickly replied, feeling the heat from the back of your neck traveling to your cheeks, not sure if its desire and mortification.
"Huh, like the fact you've never came before or clenched my fingers from the thought?" Tim asks, his voice low and teasing before he brings the slick-coated fingers, dragging them out to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he tastes you, savoring the flavor.
You watch with your mouth-wide opened, feeling a tad bit wetter from the filthy voyeuristic display,
Yeah, you want to ride this man like never before.
With a surge of determination and desire to ride him, you’ve lifted yourself from the bed to grab hold of his shoulders, gasping when you swapped positions, his back against his sheet while you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, raising his hips slightly to help you slide them down that reveals his hardened length.
“Do you like riding or something?”
“And if I do?” You feel a thrill of power and desire as you arch your back, one hand gripping his shoulder for leverage while the other guides him to your entrance.
Tim's smirk is both challenging and inviting, his hands firm on your waist, pulling you down as he thrusts up to meet you without a warning.
You gasp with pleasure overcoming your face, taking initiative when it fails. Your hands finding on his shoulders for support when Tim grips onto your ass greedily, watching you take everything when he’s guiding you by the fat of your ass and his hips slightly moving upwards to meet repeatedly.
Tim realizes you haven’t said a thing.
“Are you still there with me,” he jokes, lightly slapping against your cheek before it lands onto your ass once more.
Nothing.
You’re pulled down hard against his pelvis, taking absolutely everything from him.
Your mouth flies open in a gasp and moan, brows scrunching as the sensation of your core traveling up your spine. Not a single word uttered from you and your gaze that held no thoughts behind it, only the sensation of him within you.
The sight was lewd, knowing you’re absolutely done for.
You had more cock than air, silent tears streaming down your cheeks when your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating crescent moons.
“Fucking hell, you’re so tight.”
He hissed from the slight sharp pain from his shoulders, smacking your ass before pulling you down hard, eliciting another gasp that clenched down onto him. Clearly, you enjoyed that, having you briefly come back to him with: “again.”
God, you’ve never had dick this good before.
“You’re absolutely insane.”
He still follows through, twitching within you.
Your toes curl, feeling the blunt tip of his cock hit the roof of your core like a fucking battering ram. Then, he strikes against your ass again that has him hiss sharply with your clenching onto him, in response you tug on his hair with one hand in retaliation, feeling his dick twitch within your tight walls with a deep moan that escapes his lips.
“I’m gonna make sure you don’t remember his name.”
Who? You furrowed your brows, staring down at Tim’s gaze.
There’s nothing but wet slaps in the room that smells like nothing but sex in the air, Tim lifts you again only to fuck fiercely against the resistance of your walls, pounding into you like no tomorrow, your hips had stopped moving, the ache in your legs persistent while Tim does the work, bouncing your ass against his pelvis while his hips creates brutal thrusts that has your insides twisting and turning.
There’s a tight feeling in your core—fuck, these devastating penetrations feel like you’re going to wet yourself with the way he’s impaling you with his cock. An inexplicable force pulls your eyelids back, brows pinching at the building pressure in your lower gut. There's a dangerous peak you're headed to, and you think you're really gonna–
“Tim, I’m—ohmyfuckinggod—“ you yelped, tears trailing down in the amount of pleasure you’re getting from this.
“Tim! Im gonna fucking—“
“Fuckin’ come on me.”
Droplets splash between the both of you as Tim continues to slam into you, his mouth drops in disbelief, yet a gleeful expression written on his face. You toss your head back into a sorry shriek, your release drenches his lap and his thighs.
His hands dragged from the ass to your hips, continuously thrusting harder than before, panting into the suffocating room that feels a thousand degrees. “With that cute face you’re making, I don’t think you’ve squirted before.”
Yeah, you couldn’t believe it either. The way your jaw trembles and hangs loose as he bounces you on his cock has obliterated any sense of shame and logic.
“I need your cum,” you slurred against your words, your eyes glazed over with bliss. It made Tim crack a smile, amused from your reaction, especially one he’s never seen, drinking it all in.
You were 100% cockdrunk.
“Where? Right ‘ere?” He exhales in a mocking tone, pressing a firm thumb against your lower stomach as he penetrates you.
Your groan is guttural when his length brushes punishingly against your insides with the force he pushes into your gut.
“Yeah, y-yeaa-ah –” you're nodding your head dumbly, clouded with ecstasy.
He lets go of your hips as you drop down onto his cock, and you look at him like he's shot you in the knee.
“Tim, what the f—” he playfully chuckled, silencing you while he leaned back, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, tracing circles.
“Go on, ride me if you want my cum so bad.” He’s eyeing you with expectations that have you baffled.
“C’mon, show me that you deserve it.” He mockingly says with an act of gentleness in his tone that has you seething a bit of anger and disbelief.
(Honestly, it was kind of hot,)
You're gripping his shoulders tightly before you know it, bouncing yourself on his cock like he paid for you, desperate for his cum.
“Is—fuck, is this good? Huh, Tim?” Your eyes lock onto his, knowing your pussy is gripping his twitching length that has him digging into the palm of his hands. Fuck, if he says that you’re utterly unraveling him, he’s going to cum without doing what he wanted to do.
“Y-yeah, so goddamn good—” he cuts himself off, pulling you into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. You didn’t react fast enough when Tim breaks the heated kiss, tossing you off him before he finds you again with your arched back and your face in the sheets.
He thrusts into you with a force that sends new waves of pleasure crashing through your body from the new position. His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you back against him with each powerful stroke. You can feel the tension building inside you, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you push back against him, meeting his rhythm.
If you thought you’re crazy, Tim was crazier.
You’ve left your phone in your bedroom on your nightstand, charging peacefully on top of a book you were reading.
Tim immediately knew your password, finding the camera-app before sliding into a video.
The bounce of your ass against his pelvis, the slick of your pussy on his dick that peeks slightly for the camera before it’s engulfed within your tightening walls that sucks the living soul out of his dick.
He’s memorized, striking your ass once more that you moan for.
“Tim,” you gasp out, his name a plea on your lips. “Yeah?” He breathlessly squeezed your hips, pulling you to meet his. God, he’s going to cum from this sight alone. “Bet none of them could make you act like this.” You slowly nodded your head, moaning his name once more.
“Tim’, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum again.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum for the third consecutive time?” Tim wickedly smiled, hearing you let out a small “uh huh”. You can feel the first tremors of your release, the world around you fading away as you focus solely on the sensation of his body against yours.
“Mm’, I’m gonna cum too.”
Your orgasm hits you hard, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you that’s obvious to the camera. You can feel him follow soon after, his grip on you tightening as he finds his own release.
His thick cock pulses against your walls, twitching happily as it shoots ropes of cum into your tight little cunt. You're breathless at the sensation, feeling the warmth pool in your belly with the satisfying pulses of your pussy in sync. Moans escape your throat freely.
Tim stills after the last few pulses of his cock, pulling out with a wince as he continues to catch his breath, ending the video before sending straight to himself.
If you let him, he’s gonna send that shit over to your ex. He lightly tosses your phone away from him, running his hand through his hair before resting them against your hips, squeezing them in assurance.
“You okay?” He asks, hearing the grin in your voice with a delightful sigh that drags out of you.
“More than okay.” You muttered, twisting your head to find his face, bubbles of laughter erupting from you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so happy to make me come.”
The corner of lips twitched upwards. “What can I say? I’m glad to know that my dick is just that good.”
“Tim, don’t start thinking you’re all that—” He thrusts deeply into you to stop the nonsense you’re spouting, pushing the cum deeper than ever making you drop your mouth with a look of pleasure on your face.
“Or what?” A grin appeared, not bothered to hide his pride. It makes you speechless when he thrusts deep again, hearing you moan sweetly into his ear. Shit, he’s going to get hard again if he doesn’t fucking stop and if you don’t push back your hips.
“I’m all that you need to make ya’ cockdrunk.”
FUCKASS
fuckass: [video attachment]
fuckass: you’re gonna miss out on this dick
you: don’t make me laugh I’m not missing out anything read 8:39PM
you: the last four months I’ve been faking my orgasms lol. read 8:39PM
fuckass: what the fuck?
you: [video attachment]
you: let’s go tit for tat bitch
you: [photo attachment: sucking tim’s dick] read 8:45PM
you: bigger than yours. read 8:46PM
a/n: this isn’t my best work, but do tell me how yall feel about it! I feel like there wasn’t as much dialogue than the previous ones I’ve done, but I still enjoyed writing this out for you and dropping another kinktober fic lol. Anyways, don’t be a stranger xx
anything is appreciated but I love comments and reblogs of everyone’s thoughts !!!
Taglist (I’m so sorry I forgot!!): @sugacor3 @ratio-kals @ella-oldtime @maryjlawrenceatservice @min-the-monster @sakiigami @hobi-kobi @thetruecardinalsinner
