"i am," he rasps, his throat clicking as he swallows. "i’ve been thinking about this since the second you walked through the door. please."
"please what?"
"please let me have you. please let me taste you."
you reach down, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. you slide them down slowly, an inch at a time, watching his pupils dilate until the iris is nearly gone. you step out of the fabric and toss it onto the floor, leaving yourself completely exposed to his gaze.
"you’re a goddess," Chris whispers, his voice trembling. "a fucking goddess. i can't even breathe looking at you."
"then stop breathing for a second," you command. "get your head in position."
he shifts so eagerly he reminds you of a puppy. he slides down the mattress until his head rests exactly where you want it, his neck strained, his mouth already slightly open. you hover over him, the heat radiating from his skin meeting the cool air between your thighs. you can see the pulse jumping in his neck.
"are you ready for me?" you ask, your voice a whisper.
"yes. god, yes. put your weight on me. smother me with it. i want to feel every bit of you." he near whimpers,
you lower yourself slowly. you don't drop all the way; you tease him, grinding your clit against his mouth in a slow, circular motion. Chris lets out a muffled groan, his hands flying up to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh to pull you closer.
"you’re so wet," he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating through your entire pelvis. "you smell like heaven. i can't believe you're actually here."
"do you like how i feel, Chris?"
"i fucking love it. you’re perfect. everything about you fucking perfect."
you shift your weight, finally dropping fully. you sit heavy on his face, your pussy sealing his mouth and nose completely. you feel the sudden, sharp intake of air through his nose, a desperate gasp for oxygen that only makes him more frantic.
"mmph!" he grunts, the sound vibrating upward into your clit.
"shh," you murmur, leaning back to balance yourself on your heels. "just take it. consume me."
Chris responds by diving in and lashes out to find your clit. he begins to lap at you, long, sweeping strokes that move from the base of your opening up to the peak of your clit. the sound of it fills the quiet room—wet slaps of tongue against sensitive skin, the squelching of your juices on his lips.
"oh, fuck," you moan, your head tossing back. "right there. don’t stop."
he pulls back for a fraction of a second, just enough to gasp for air.
"you taste so sweet," he pants, his voice thick with lust. "i could stay here forever. i want to drink every drop of you. you’re a goddess, baby."
"then prove it," you challenge, pressing yourself back down, harder this time. "eat me like you're dying for it."
he doesn't hesitate. he buries his face deeper, his tongue swirling around your clit in a dizzying blur of motion. he begins to suck, creating a vacuum that pulls your flesh into his mouth. the feeling is electric, a sharp, pulsing heat that radiates from your core down to your toes. your can feel his nose pressing into you, the warmth of his breath huffing against your skin.
"yes! just like that!" you cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head tighter against you.
"i’ve got you," he mumbles, his words distorted by the wetness of your pussy. "i’ve got you, baby. i’ll make you cum so hard you forget your own name."
the pace fastens. Chris becomes feral, his tongue flicking rapidly, his lips tight around you. the sounds are loud now—the wet, slapping noise of your thighs hitting his cheeks, the air being pushed out of his nostrils in ragged bursts. you feel the build-up, a tightening tension in your lower belly that is about to snap.
"Chris, i’m close," you gasp, your hips starting to buck instinctively. "i’m so fucking close."
"cum on my tounge," he urges, his voice muffled beneath you. "give it all to me. flood my mouth."
you let out a jagged moan as the orgasm hits. your internal muscles clamp down hard, pulsing in waves that send jolts of electricity through your spine. you grind yourself into his face, your clit vibrating against his tongue. you feel him swallow, his throat working as he drinks your release.
you remain draped over him, your breathing heavy. you feel his tongue give one last slow lick, cleaning you.
"wow," Chris breathes, finally sliding his head out from under you. he looks up, his face flushed, his lips glistening with your fluids. he looks completely wrecked.
ella’s notes: this a request tysm! ugh need him to eat me out next
A soft moment between you and Chris, where he likes the feeling of your nails scrapping across his scalp..
Chris sturniolo x reader
Warnings: none just soft sugary fluff<3
The air in his room was cold as the day slowly settled into night, the morning traffic replaced by the occasional sounds of passing cars racing to get home and the glittering light of the moon shining through the curtains.
Your fingers were threading through Chris’s hair as the fan blew softly across your intertwined bodies, the t.v. playing some random sitcom.
You then stop scratching his head to reply to a message from Tara asking if you wanted to hangout tomorrow and all you hear is a tiny grunt,
“Chris?”
You said softly looking down at Chris as his face was plastered between the valley of your breasts.
“Did I say you could stop?”
You widen your eyes at his attitude,
“Who are you talking to like that?”
Chris whines and sits up, having his arms extend to cage you between his now toned arms. Chris’s face is inches from yours and you smile softly,
“Keep doing what you were doing…”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion, before smiling at him.
“You’re such a baby, I was texting Tara..”
Chris scoffed and laid back down on your chest pushing his nose into your skin.
“I’m more important..”
You roll your eyes and continue scratching his scalp as he groans at the soothing feeling of your nails scrapping across his head. The feeling making his spine shiver,
“You’re so dramatic and I’m telling Tara about this..”
Chris lets out a lazy agreement, obviously not listening.
“Yeah whatever I don’t care…”
You smile at Chris and continue to enjoy the tender moment between you and your needy boyfriend.
No one knows for sure, but it’s estimated that there are 4,000-6,500 snow leopards, or “ghost cats,” in their native range. Learn more about these elusive cats.
Summary: you and chris get into a big argument that leads you to not talking to him for a week, now deciding that he couldn’t take it anymore he goes to your place begging you to forgive him….and to say his name.
Warning: 18+ p In v unprotected(don’t ever do this) slight angst, nipple play, overstimulation, praise kink, bf!chris gf!reader, light restraint, light choking, dom!chris, sub!reader, etc.
You don’t know what started the fight in the first place or how it even got to this point but yet here you’re, going back and forth about something that’s very stupid to argue over.
“I don’t get why you’re so pressed about this it’s really irrelevant Chris.” You say rolling your eyes
“No it’s really not because how the fuck are you going to hangout with one of my friends and not fucking tell me where the fuck you are or why you’re even with them?.” Chris says back to you
You sigh rolling your eyes you guess you understand where Chris is coming from by not telling him that you were hanging out with one of his close friends and not telling him but he has the whole story confused, he was the one who canceled on his friend at the last minute so his friend called you and asked if you wanted to see the movie with him and then go hangout at his place, Chris doesn’t know this part but you’ve been friends with Joey for a long time way before you knew Chris, and Chris was busy so you knew not to text him.
“Why didn’t you text me and tell me that you were gonna hangout with him?.”Chris asks still pressing on the topic
“You were busy with Matt and Nick and you also canceled on Joey the last minute so he called me I don’t get why you’re so upset.”
“I’m upset because you spent all you fucking time with another guy who I’m close friends with instead of me and you couldn’t even fucking text me or call me letting me know where you were going.”
You get up from off the couch as Chris walks back to the living room, even though Chris is starting to really piss you off you’re also so relieved that his brothers are not here so they don’t have to sit and listen to this stupid argument.
“Chris do you not understand how fucking stupid this whole argument is?.” You say now looking at him
“Oh so it’s stupid now?.”
“Yes because you’re upset about something that’s so stupid and so little you trust Joey so why are you so upset?.”
“I’m upset because you’re not telling me who you’re with if you’re not honest about being with Joey what else are you not honest about huh?.”
You pause not believing what Chris just said to you, you can’t even form the words of what you even want to say.
You stand up from off the couch now looking at Chris “oh so you think I’m not honest with you now?.”
“Yeah I do because you lie to fucking much.”
“When have I ever lied to you Chris?.”
“Today.”
“No actually I didn’t lie Joey told you I was hanging out with him I didn’t even text you or call you.”
“Yeah exactly you didn’t even tell me Joey had to tell me not you.”
You grab your keys and your phone as you were about to walk out but Chris talks more to you”where are you goin?.”
“Obviously you don’t trust me so why am I here then Chris? Why do you want to be with me if all I ever do is lie to you?.”you say to him trying to hold back from crying
“You tell me.”
You start to walk away ignoring Chris as he’s still trying to talk to you, you walk out his house and go to your car and get inside and drive off.
It’s been days since you had that fight with Chris, days of going over and over that moment that was so little but felt so big and too much for you to handle, why did he not have any faith in you or hope in you? Why did he just assume that you were disloyal and a liar when he knows damn well none of it’s true.
You barely slept those days because your phone kept going off with a bunch of calls and texts from Chris, if he acted like he didn’t care about you then why is he blowing up your phone?, Why is he trying to talk to you when he made it clear that this relationship meant nothing to him with the way he talked to you and acted.
It’s now been a full week of not talking to Chris, honestly the days passed like a blur and you mostly spent your time at your best friend’s house or at home avoiding Chris at all costs. It was raining outside heavily as it calmed you down, you always loved the rain and thunderstorms it always eased your mind, it was also nighttime so now was the perfect opportunity to take a shower to help clear your mind.
After you showered and got dressed and did your hair you heard loud knocks at your front door, you turned and paused those knocks sounded frantic and a part of you feels like you know who it is but you wouldn’t allow yourself to believe that part, you walked to the front door and opened it seeing Chris standing there with his hands in his pockets, he was wearing a black hoodie with the hood over his head, he looked like he hasn’t slept in days as his eyes were red and he looked very worn out.
“What is it Chris?.”
“Hey can i just talk to you for a second please?.” Chris asks you while his voice is slightly strained
“For what Chris? You made it very clear that this relationship means nothing to you.”
“No–no you have it all wrong baby this relationship means everything to me, you mean everything to me.”
“Then why did you act like that? Why did you just assume I was disloyal to you?.”
He pauses before talking again”because I was afraid that you turned out to be just like how those other girls are that I would talk to who only liked me because of the type of person I am, and when you didn’t tell me that you were hanging out with Joey I thought it was true–“
“So you just assumed I was like all those other girls just because of one small thing that happened?.”
“Look I know i fucked up I know you’re not like them, it fucking killed me when you wouldn’t answer my calls and texts just please baby let me fix this.”
You feel your heart starting to ache again as you feel yourself being torn, you know this whole situation is a big misunderstanding and that he’s trying to fix it but how do you know if he really means it?.
“How do I know if you really mean this Chris?.”
“Because baby the one thing i do is never lie to you please forgive me.”
You sigh opening the door wider letting Chris come in, immediately he walks in closing the door behind him taking off his hoodie.
You sit on the couch as Chris stands there for a second then follows after you sitting right next to you, you feel the heat radiating off his arm as it brushes against yours for second making you breathing hitch.
You both sit not saying anything to each other in which it felt like a very long time until Chris finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you return any of my calls or texts?.”
“Because I thought that you didn’t care about me so what was the point of answering?.
“I do care M’sorry I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
You don’t look at him as you still look down at the floor you really didn’t know what Tia at to him now, and Chris knows this and fuck does he hate that.
Chris sighs grabbing you and putting you on his lap, which completely took you by surprise you try to protest but you know that your strength was no watch against his.
“Chris!.”
“What’s it gonna take for you to forgive me hm?.”
“I don’t know you tell me you started it.”
“That’s fair.”
Chris leans in as he starts to kiss your neck softly and gentle, you try to push him off of you but fail as he finds your sweet spot kissing and sucking on it making you gasp and moan, Chris pulls you closer as you start to feel yourself getting real feverish between your legs which annoyed you, Chris always knew you really knew you.
“Christopher.” You moan out
Chris pauses as he curses under his breath
“Fuck baby say that again please say it again.”
You don’t say anything back making him more impatient, he now grabs you picking you up taking you to your room pushing you on the bed as he climbs on top of you, he pulls off your shirt seeing that you had no bra on which drove him wild.
Chris starts to kiss down on your chest all the way down now latching his mouth on your sensitive buds sucking on it making you moan louder.
Chris was growing more and more painfully hard, you never knew this but your moans always drove him crazy, he’s had a full blown week of doing nothing but think on what all he did wrong, and how he can get you back.
Even though Chris wants to make you feel better this was really hard for him considering how badly turned on he is.
Chris hovers down grabbing your shorts pulling them down along with your Lacey pink panties now seeing how drenched you were making it more worse for him.
Chris starts to kiss down on your thighs getting closer and closer to where you needed him most, he licks a strip up your swollen sensitive bud making you gasp and whimper as you try to close your legs together but he opens them wider.
“Ngh Chris!.” You cry out
You could feel your arousal dripping the more Chris was devouring you savoring every drop of you, gripped a fistful of your sheets as you were a moaning and whimpering mess, the feeling felt so powerful and too much it was almost as if you couldn’t handle it anymore but you knew damn well you didn’t want him to stop.
“Damn baby I missed your taste.”
Chris adds a finger inside you and other as he pumps you in and out now curling his long digits inside you hitting that spot that made your vision go white, you legs become to tremble as you felt that knot form in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a week, chris knew that you’re very close.
“You close baby? Cmon let go f’me I wanna feel you on my tongue.”
“Oh fuckkkkkk.” You moan out
Your release came crashing down as Chris still tongue fucked you through your release, still pumping his fingers in and out of you making you more sensitive as you calmed down.
“Chris I can’t.”
“You can baby please just gimme one more cmon I wanna see you fall apart.”
“Oh shit!.” You cry out
You feel your second orgasm hit you feeling the coil in your belly snap, the feeling becoming too painfully good.
Chris still kept going still sucking on your clit as you keep squirming and whining
“Chris please no more.”
Chris kept going never listening to your pleas cries, only listening to the sounds of your broken moans making him push you further and further, you have no idea how long he’s waited to have the moment with you and oh how he’s savoring every bit of it.
You felt your third orgasm about to hit now as you start to squirm more and more you try to push his head away but he doesn’t budge he keeps sucking applying more pressure to your swollen sensitive clit.
“No more please!.”
Chris flicks his tongue a few more times sending you over the edge as you grab the sheets for dear life now feeling it come crashing down again making you sob feeling it hit you.
Chris finally stops now bringing his head back up to yours you can see his chin glistening with a mix of his spit and your arousal, he looks at you wiping away your tears that were streaming down your face.
“Sorry baby I didn’t mean to overwhelm you I just couldn’t help myself.”
You don’t saying back to him as he kisses you hungrily making you taste yourself on your tongue, Chris stops and takes off his shirt and pants along with his boxers, you see him already hard as the tip was already leaking with pre cum.
You forgot how big he is and Chris knows that this made you nervous as he starts to smirk at you”s’okay baby i know you can take it.”
Chris climbs back on top of you as he starts to to kiss you sloppily, he grabs the tip and slides it up and down your drenched folds making you whimper at the sensation as he groans out, he almost forgot how fucking good you felt and how good you squeezed him.
Chris slides himself fully inside you making you both gasp at the fullness of his length, at first he doesn’t Move as he tries to adjust and after a very long moment he starts to move again as he feels your walls fluttering around him sucking him in.
“Shitttt baby I almost forgot how good this pussy is.”
Chris starts to thrust at slow pace giving you some time to adjust to him all of him, and when you start to moan like crazy he starts to go faster and faster to the point to where he’s going at a brutal pace.
“Christopher!.” You moan
Hearing you moan out his name like that made him throb more inside you, but Chris was far from being done with you.
“That’s right baby let me hear those pretty sounds from that pretty mouth of yours.”
Chris grabs your hands as he pins them over your head while he uses his other hand and wraps it around your neck keeping it in a firm grip, not enough to choke you but enough to keep you there.
Feeling his hands in your neck does something to you as you start to feel that familiar feeling again form in the pit of your stomach, Chris knows you’re very close as you know he is too with the way He’s starting to twitch inside you.
“Fuck baby m’close!.” You say to Chris
“I know baby fuck–just–shittt if you keep squeezing me like that m’not gonna last.”
You don’t listen to him as you keep squeezing him over and over, Chris starts to have enough as he grabs you flipping you over putting you on all fours face down ass up as he pushing himself back inside you going at a brutal pace making you scream out his name as he starts to hit that spot inside you making you see stars.
“Oh shitttt baby fuck m’cumming I’m fucking cumming!.” You cry out
You moan out as you feel yourself release all over Chris’s length soaking it, he gasps as you feel him start to twitch as he now spills inside you feeling his hot spurs stuff you full.
Chris kisses your shoulder as he now pulls out slowly making you hiss at the sensation, you both lay there not saying anything as your fingers are interlocked with each others, after awhile Chris speaks up.
“Damn I didn’t know you could cum like that I think I need to make it up to you more often.” He says making you giggle
“Shut up.”
“Did I hurt you?.”
“No it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Good cause m’not done with you yet this is just the beginning for the night.”
Notes: I know it’s been a minute but I had to take my time wish this one in order for it to be delicious so enjoy 🩷.
Summary: You and chris have sex for the first time!
CW: This chapter contains explicit NSFW content including soft dom/sub dynamics, heavy dirty talk and praise kink, multiple squirting scenes, Chris drinking her squirt, oral sex, vaginal penetration, multiple creampies, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms.
(All photos and dividers found on Pinterest ❤️)
Much love from ladybug
Chris’s fingers traced lazy circles on her bare thigh, the touch so light it made her skin prickle. The room was dim, only the glow of the string lights above his bed casting soft shadows across her body. She was already breathing harder than she should’ve been, dress bunched up around her waist, panties long since discarded somewhere on the floor.
He hovered over her, propped on one elbow, that signature half-smirk playing on his lips. His eyes were dark, hungry, but patient. Always so damn patient.
“You’re shaking already,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “I’ve barely touched you, baby.”
She let out a shaky breath, hips twitching involuntarily toward his hand. “Chris…”
“Shh.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “I told you we’re taking our time tonight. You’re gonna be good for me, yeah?”
She nodded quickly, fingers curling into the sheets. The way his voice dropped when he gave her instructions always melted her.
“That’s my girl.” His hand slid higher, fingertips brushing just below where she needed him most, teasing the sensitive crease of her thigh. “You get so wet for me. Look at you…”
He finally let his fingers glide over her pussy, slow and deliberate, spreading the slickness he found there. A soft groan left his throat.
“Fuck, you’re soaked. Been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?”
Her breath hitched as he circled her clit with two fingers, agonizingly slow. Every time she tried to push her hips up for more pressure, he pulled back just enough to keep her on edge.
“Chris, please…” she whispered.
“Please what?” He kissed the corner of her jaw, then her neck, sucking lightly. “Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to touch me properly,” she breathed, cheeks burning.
He chuckled softly against her skin, the sound vibrating through her. “Properly? Like this?” He pressed one finger inside her, curling it slowly, then added a second. The stretch was perfect, but he kept the pace torturously languid.
“Yes…” she moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
Chris watched her face intently, drinking in every little reaction. “So fucking pretty when you’re desperate. You know that? My perfect little slut who gets this messy just from my fingers.”
The praise mixed with the filth made her clench around him. He noticed immediately.
“God, you love when I talk to you like that,” he said, voice husky. “Feel how tight you get? Yeah… that’s it. Squeeze my fingers, baby.”
He pumped them deeper, still keeping the rhythm slow, his thumb occasionally brushing her clit with feather-light pressure. Every time she got close, he eased off, kissing her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress.
After what felt like forever, he finally pulled her dress up and over her head, tossing it aside. His mouth found her nipple, sucking gently while his fingers continued their lazy assault between her legs.
“You’re doing so good,” he praised between licks and soft bites. “Taking everything I give you. Such a good girl for me.”
She was whimpering now, thighs trembling. The pressure had been building for so long she felt like she might cry.
“Chris… I’m so close—”
“I know, baby. I can feel it.” He kissed down her stomach, settling between her thighs. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, licking a long, slow stripe up her pussy before focusing on her clit.
The change made her back arch. He held her hips down with one arm, keeping her open for him as he devoured her—still teasing, still not letting her tip over the edge.
When he slid three fingers back inside her and curled them against that perfect spot, her moans turned louder, more desperate.
“Right there?” he murmured against her, the vibration making her jolt. “Yeah, I know that’s the spot. Let it build, princess. Don’t fight it.”
Her hands flew to his hair, gripping tight. The pressure was overwhelming now, different from her usual orgasms—deeper, hotter, almost too much.
“Chris— fuck, I think I’m gonna—”
He sucked her clit harder, fingers pumping faster but still controlled. “That’s it. Let go for me. Come on, baby. Squirt for me like a good girl.”
The words pushed her over. Her whole body tensed, thighs shaking violently as the orgasm crashed through her. A rush of clear liquid gushed over his fingers and tongue, soaking his chin and the sheets beneath her.
Chris groaned in satisfaction, not stopping, milking every pulse out of her as she cried out, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes from the intensity.
When the waves finally slowed, he lifted his head, lips and chin glistening. He crawled back up her body and kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes dark with lust. “Open your mouth, baby.”
She obeyed without hesitation, still dazed. Chris brought his soaked fingers to her lips.
“Taste how much you came for me,” he said softly, voice full of filthy praise. “You squirted so fucking pretty. Now be a good girl and clean my fingers. Drink it all up.”
She wrapped her lips around his fingers, sucking obediently, moaning at the taste of herself mixed with his skin. The submissive act made her pussy clench again.
Chris watched her with hooded eyes, his free hand stroking her hair. “That’s my girl… swallowing your own mess like that. So fucking nasty and perfect. You love it, don’t you?”
She nodded, sucking harder, eyes locked on his.
When his fingers were clean, he kissed her again, slower this time, almost tender. His hand slid back between her legs, gently cupping her oversensitive pussy.
“We’re not done yet,” he whispered against her lips. “I want you to do that again for me. Think you can be my good girl and squirt one more time?”
She whimpered, already nodding, body buzzing with anticipation.
Chris smiled, soft and dangerous at the same time.
“Good. Because I’m gonna take my time with you tonight.”
Chris’s voice was low, almost a promise as he kissed her again, deep and unhurried. His tongue tasted like her, and the reminder made her whimper softly into his mouth. He pulled back with that lazy smirk, eyes dragging down her flushed body like he was deciding exactly how he wanted to ruin her next.
He slid back down between her thighs, hands gently pushing her legs wider. She was still sensitive, still dripping from the first time she’d squirted, but he didn’t care. If anything, it seemed to turn him on more.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Still twitching for me. You made such a mess, baby. My good girl.”
Before she could respond, his mouth was on her again—slow, deliberate licks that cleaned up the slick mess she’d made while deliberately avoiding her clit. Every time she tried to chase his tongue, he pulled away just enough to keep her desperate.
“Chris… please,” she breathed, fingers threading through his hair.
He glanced up at her, chin already shiny. “Please what? You gotta tell me, princess. You want me to eat this pussy properly?”
She nodded frantically.
“Words,” he reminded her gently, pressing a soft kiss right above her clit.
“Please eat me out… I want your mouth.”
“That’s my girl.” He rewarded her immediately, flattening his tongue and dragging it up her folds in one long, slow stroke before sealing his lips around her clit and sucking softly.
The moan that left her was broken. Chris groaned in response, the vibration traveling straight through her. He took his time, alternating between lazy circles on her clit and pushing his tongue inside her, savoring every drop.
“You taste so fucking good when you’re this wet,” he praised between licks. “Can’t get enough of you. My perfect little slut.”
The pressure started building again, deeper this time. Chris could feel it. He slid two fingers back inside her, curling them steadily while his mouth focused on her swollen clit.
“That’s it… feel that?” he murmured against her. “You’re gonna squirt again for me, aren’t you? Gonna make another mess all over my tongue.”
Her thighs started trembling. The build-up was slower this time, more intense. Chris didn’t speed up. He kept the same torturous rhythm, sucking and licking while his fingers worked that perfect spot inside her.
When it finally hit, it was even stronger than the first. She cried out, back arching hard as clear liquid gushed over his tongue and fingers. Chris moaned loudly, not pulling away for a second. He drank every drop he could, swallowing greedily while still licking her through it, making her shake and sob with overstimulation.
“Fuck… yes,” he groaned, voice muffled. “That’s my good girl. Taste so sweet when you squirt for me.”
He kept his mouth on her until the spasms slowed, then finally pulled back, lips and chin completely drenched. He crawled up her body and kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue again. She moaned into the kiss, clinging to him.
Chris reached down and pushed his sweats off, freeing his hard cock. He was painfully hard, tip already leaking. He rubbed himself slowly against her soaked pussy, teasing her entrance but not pushing in yet.
“You feel that?” he whispered against her lips. “Feel how hard you make me? All this teasing has me throbbing for you, baby.”
She whimpered, trying to roll her hips to take him in, but he held her still.
“Patience,” he chided softly, nipping at her bottom lip. “I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow. Want you to feel every inch.”
He finally pushed in, just the tip at first, stretching her open. They both moaned at the feeling. Chris dropped his forehead to hers, breathing heavy as he sank deeper, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.
“God… you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Taking me so well. Such a good girl for me.”
He stayed still for a long moment, just savoring being inside her, kissing her softly. Then he started moving—long, slow, deep strokes that made her feel every ridge. His pace was teasing, almost lazy, but each thrust hit deep.
“Chris…” she moaned, nails digging into his back.
“I know, baby. Feels so good, doesn’t it?” He kissed her neck, sucking lightly. “Love being inside you like this. So warm and wet for me. My perfect pussy.”
He kept the slow rhythm for what felt like forever, grinding deep on every thrust, whispering filthy praise in her ear.
“You’re squeezing me so tight… gonna make me cum if you keep that up.”
When he felt her getting close again, he reached between them and rubbed her clit in slow circles.
“Come on, princess. One more time. Squirt on my cock this time.”
The combination pushed her over the edge. She came hard, gushing around him. Chris groaned at the feeling, fucking her through it slowly, but he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, baby… I’m gonna cum,” he panted. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” she gasped.
“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” He thrust harder for the first time, losing some of his control. “Gonna take every drop like a good girl?”
She nodded desperately.
Chris buried himself deep and came with a low groan, pulsing inside her. He stayed there, grinding softly as he filled her, kissing her through it.
But he wasn’t done.
He stayed inside her while he caught his breath, kissing her lazily. After a few minutes, he pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak out of her with dark eyes.
“On your hands and knees, baby,” he said softly, helping her turn over.
She obeyed, arching her back for him. Chris rubbed his still-hard cock against her messy pussy before pushing back in from behind. This angle was deeper, and he took full advantage, starting that same slow, teasing pace again.
“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand sliding up her back to grip her hair gently. “Taking my cock so well even after I already filled you up. Such a greedy girl.”
He reached around and rubbed her clit while fucking her, building her up again. When she started shaking, he leaned down, lips brushing her ear.
“Squirt for me again. I want to feel it.”
She came hard a moment later, soaking his cock and the sheets. Chris groaned in satisfaction and kept going, chasing his second orgasm.
“Gonna cum again,” he warned, voice rough. “You want it inside you one more time?”
“Yes— please, Chris.”
He thrust deep and came hard for the second time, filling her even more. When he finally pulled out, he flipped her onto her back and immediately moved down between her legs again.
“One last thing,” he said, voice husky. “I wanna taste us.”
He ate her out slowly, licking up their mixed release, sucking gently on her clit until she was trembling again. He didn’t stop until she came one final time, weaker but still intense, and he drank every drop she gave him.
When he finally crawled back up, he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. His hand stroked her hair as they both caught their breath.
“You did so good for me,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “My perfect girl.”
Jason "Red Hood" Todd who is obsessed with you like no other.
Childhood friends is what you two were. He followed you like a lost puppy when you guys first met. Too young to understand just how much you both actually loved one another. At the time you were inseparable, two peas in a pod.
Now you guys were grown, both in your early 20's. Your man was huge now too. A whooping 6'7 and 240 pounds, large enough to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like it was nothing. Something that he's done multiple times over the course of your relationship. Showing off his strength over the course of your relationship just felt so good.
Despite being taller yourself he still was able to man handle you like nothing. whenever you needed something, he lifted you up in one arm with ease instead of grabbing it himself. His hand damn there swallowed yours in comparison because of all the lifting he did. Even when you bulked, it was like he still somehow managed to outweigh you.
His absolute favorite thing to do with you was kiss you, though. To kiss your body on every place you had been insecure about when you were younger. When the two of you were kids and started revealing secrets to one another, he had promised to make you love yourself like he loved you.
And that he did.
Your entire body was memorized, every dip, every curve, every stretch mark, every piece of you that he loved. During the nights where everything was silent and it was just the two of you, he took his time worship every inch of you. His kisses moved from your lips down to your ankles and with each one a murmur of "I love you" or some type of praise slipped from them.
Jason remembered the exact moment that he fell in love with you.
Right after a particularly hard patrol he had come to your place instead of going straight home. This had been after the pitt and everything that happened with the Joker, so his mental health had been at an all-time low. seeing you were still up and just watching television he had climbed into your place, slipping his armor off and moving to get to you. All day his head had been fuzzy. Violent thoughts filled his head, depraved acts he didn't want to even think about consumed him. It was almost suffocating him at that point.
When you had seen him, you welcomed him with open arms. Despite not dating at the time, you two were very intimate with each other. Kisses and cuddling were how the entire night was spent. Anything to keep him from getting lost in his mind too much. Feeling your nails scratch his scalp and the way you told him "I'm right here Jay. don't focus on anything but me." Solidified every feeling of infatuation that he had.
Here you sat in his arms, both of you guys in your own heads quietly reading. It was monthly you guys did this, picking a book for the other to read and then talking about it when finished. Jason always tried to finish in a timely manner, even with his patrols. He'd keep his book in a little pouch on his side to read on the rare quiet moments. Maybe it was such an old-fashioned or boring thing to do, but with you there, there was nothing more that Jason cold ask for.
- smoke sesh with chris turns into something more . . .
- contains: use of weed, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), let me know if i missed anything.
- pairing: fratboy!chris x fem!reader
- know before you read: lowercase intended.
“ah, fuck.” chris mumbles while crawling through your window. “couldn’t you be any quieter?” you deadpan. “do you wanna smoke weed or nah?”
you beckon him over to your bed and grab the bag of weed. you smoke one joint and before you know it you already smoked four.
“y’feelin it?” chris asks, looking at you. you nod and start giggling. he smirks, “what are ya giggling for?”
“you look really fucking good right now.” his eyes darken instantly. “is that so?” you bite your lip and nod.
chris pulls you into his lap and slams his lips into yours. “need you so bad..” you say while taking his sweats off.
he lifts your skirt up and rips your panties off. he glides his fingers through your folds. “fuck, baby. y’so wet..all this for me?”
you whimper, “please..”
chris smirks, “please what? hm? use your words.” you whine. “please touch me.”
chris slides one, then two fingers into you. “shit, so tight..” he pumps his fingers inside you, curling them perfectly to hit that spot.
you moan, putting your face in his shoulder to muffle your noises. “please..i need you inside me..”
chris slides his fingers out and flips you onto your back. he takes his boxers off and thrusts into you in one smooth motion.
you moan out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure. you spread your legs wider for him, giving him room to fuck you deeper.
“feels so good..” you gasp out. chris fucks you harder and whispers in your ear, “you like the way i feel inside you, love?”
“yes..fuck- m’gonna cum..” you moan.
“cum for me. cum on my cock.” he says in your ear. your orgasm washes over you, chris’s following right after. he holds himself up so he doesn’t fall onto you.
“best pussy i’ve ever had..” you roll your eyes at his words. “yeah, well. you’ve had like hundreds.”
a/n:: i wanna do a matt fic but i have no clue what to write for him.
- contains: rough sex, risk of getting caught, fingers in mouth, petnames (baby, doll), unprotected sex (don’t do that!) let me know if i missed anything. mdni
- pairing: bfb!chris x fem!reader
know before you read: lowercase intended.
you don’t know how you ended up here. bent over the bathroom counter by your best friends brother at a party who’s house you don’t even know.
“fuck, baby..so tight..” chris mumbles against your neck, two fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet.
you moan, eyes rolling back from how deep he’s inside you. you clench around him, “shit, don’t do that..” he makes a makeshift pony for leverage.
“don’t stop..” his eyes darken almost instantly, “wasn’t planning on it, doll.” he says while fucking you harder.
before you know it, your orgasm washes over you, pressing back against him and moaning his name.
you hear someone knocking on the door. oh. your best friend. chris cums inside me and pulls out. he signals for me to hide and opens the door. “you’ve been in here for an hour.” your best friend deadpants. “there’s other bathrooms in this house” he glares back.
“do you know where y/n is?” she asks while trying to look inside the bathroom. “why the fuck would i know?”
“whatever.” she says while closing the door. chris turns to face you. “was it worth the risk of getting caught by your bestfriend?”
“fuck, yeah. might need to do that more often.” you say, looking up at him. chris smirks. “that what you want?”
a/n:: waitt i’m lowk getting better..also i thought of this idea when i was in the shower (lil fun fact) sorry this is very shortt
─────────────────────────────── ready to start - arcade fire
── .✦ do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. dividers by me.
CONTAINS NSFW, MINORS DNI
✦ . Summary: (No correlation to other parts, only prologue) The bottle lands on Tim.
✦ . Characters: Tim Wright (Masky) x Reader
✦ . Warning: Alcohol, cigarettes, erotic asphyxiation, breath control play, semi-public sex, dirty talk, oral fixation, blowjobs, choking, risky sex, nicotine high, dizziness, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, spit, oral sex, rough oral sex, first time blow job
✦ . Words: 12.1k
✦ . Note: Please do not hang me and kill me for how long this took to post. Apologies! Hopefully the length makes up for it! School is officially over, so now I can dedicate my time to writing more, so be on the lookout! For all my blow job lovers (I see you and I appreciate you), this is for you!!!
─────────────────────────────────────────────
It was ironic watching your fate be decided by a lousy beer bottle you hadn’t even gotten to drink out of yet.
But everything in this lousy mansion is out of your hands anyway.
The bottle spun on the coffee table, wobbling through the leftover alcohol and cigarette ash stains before it slowed and finally stopped.
It landed on—
You looked up.
Tim.
Before the room could go completely silent, Jeff let out a loud, ugly laugh.
“Well shit,” he crowed, leaning back on the couch and covering his face with his hands. “Looks like Timmy gets the consolation prize. Try not to bore her to death in there, old man.”
Tim didn’t snap back. He just stared Jeff down from across the circle, his eyes dark and narrowed. There was something almost smug in the way he tilted his head, like he already knew exactly how much this was eating Jeff alive, how he could practically see right through his asshole demeanor.
He stared at Jeff long enough for the boy to sink back into himself a little, but not without rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he broke the stare down to glare out the window.
But then Tim turned and walked straight past you, his boots thumping on the floorboards as he headed down the short hallway toward the closet like he had all the time in the world.
You stayed seated for a beat, your heart suddenly kicking harder than it should.
Nina wasn’t having it. She popped up behind you with a bright, mischievous laugh and hooked her arms under yours, hauling you to your feet.
“Nope! Don’t be a baby, babe. Go on!”
She gave you a firm shove toward the direction Tim just went. A couple of the others whistled and clapped as you stumbled forward, but as you looked back one final time in anxiousness, all you saw was Jeff’s wide eyes watching you fade around the corner. In amongst the distraction, Brian had moved from his spot and was now leaning against the wall nearest the hall towards the closet. As you approached, he rummaged into his jacket pocket and fished out a silver flip lighter, pushing it into your hands before you could pass.
You looked down at it, feeling the cold weight in your hand, before looking at him—only for the blond to give you a very confusing nod before he let you go. You shoved it into your back pocket.
Tim was already at the closet door. He yanked it open, reached up, and pulled the chain for the single bare bulb dangling inside. Weak yellow light spilled out over the hanging coats and junk boxes, flumes of dust floated out, and you had to wave the air in front of your face to keep from coughing. He stepped aside, one hand still holding the door, and tilted his head toward the inside.
You hesitated. “Tim, I can just—”
“Get over yourself,” he cut you off, keeping his face flat and unreadable. Before you could retort again, he stepped in close, using his body to herd you forward until you were inside the cramped space. The door pulled shut behind him with a final click.
The muffled music and laughter from the living room dulled instantly, only the floorboard thumps under your shoes to keep you company.
Tim reached down and fiddled with the dials on his wristwatch, setting the timer with a few soft clicks. Seven minutes. The little hands began ticking immediately.
You both stood awkwardly about a foot and a half apart, your backs pressed against opposite walls of the cramped closet. You kept your eyes glued to the floor, occasionally fiddling with the hem of your shirt or picking at your fingernails. Tim, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was watching you. His gaze was steadily honed on you, occasionally flicking toward the closed door like he was listening for footsteps or somebody snooping outside. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, digging around until he found his trusty pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and slid it between his lips like he always did.
Then he started patting his other pockets.
“Shit,” he grunted under his breath. “Left my lighter with Brian.”
“Oh, wait.”
You hesitated for a second before reaching into your back pocket and pulling out the worn silver lighter Brian had given you moments ago. You held it out to him without a word.
Tim’s eyes flicked down to the lighter, then back up to your face. A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took it from your fingers, his hand brushing yours.
He flicked it open, lit the cigarette, and took a long, deep drag. The tip glowed bright orange in the dim light. He exhaled a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling, watching it curl and drift in the stale air, pockets of smog dancing like little ghosts around the lightbulb.
You raised an eyebrow. “You really think it’s smart to smoke in a closet this small?”
Tim shrugged one shoulder, completely unbothered. He took another drag, then lowered the cigarette, smoke pooling from between his lips as he spoke.
“Probably not.” His voice was gravelly. “But I've already decided to be in here with you. Might as well add this to the list of bad choices tonight.”
You laughed.
He leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes never really leaving you. The smoke continued to drift lazily between the two of you, filling the small space with the sharp scent of tobacco.
You shifted your weight against the wall under the intensity of his stare, your arms loosely crossed. The smoke was already starting to make the small space feel even stuffier.
“Do you think Jeff’s gonna retaliate at all?” you asked one-offedly, reaching for anything to conversate about.
Tim took another slow drag, then exhaled through his nose. “No.”
He sounded sure. Almost bored.
“Jeff’s emotional and jealous and got a nasty fucking temper,” he continued, flicking ash onto the floor. “But if he’s actually mad, he’ll turn that shit on somebody else. He’s too scared to come at me.”
You let out a laugh, nodding. “Yeah… that sounds about right.”
Tim tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Why’re you concerned?”
“No reason,” you said quickly, shrugging. “Just… you two seem like you’re in some kind of secret competition. It’s weird.”
Tim went quiet for a long moment. He brought the cigarette back to his lips, taking two slow puffs while he thought. Smoke curled up between you like a hazy curtain.
“Maybe we are,” he finally admitted.
You shook your head. “You’re not the type to do childish shit like that.”
Tim let out a short, rough laugh, almost like he was surprised by your response.
“For the right person?” he said, “I might.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than moments before. The muffled noise from the living room seemed to fade even further away, only the cadence of the speakers thumping enough to let you know the party was still happening. You were both just… looking at each other.
Then Tim pulled the cigarette from his mouth and held it out to you, offering it between two fingers.
You took it carefully. When you brought it to your lips, you could still feel the warmth from his mouth on the filter. You took a puff, the smoke filling your lungs with that familiar burn.
Tim’s gaze stayed locked on your mouth, watching the way your lips wrapped around the same spot his had just been. His head tilted slightly, something unreadable shifting in his face as he tracked the motion.
When you lowered the cigarette and exhaled, he was still staring. So you stared right back at him, no longer pretending to study the floor.
Tim looked… different tonight, even if only slightly. His clothes were his usual thick jacket and jeans, but they were cleaner than normal, no random gunpowder smudges, no dirt or dried blood. His hair was a little more put together, and that ever-present stern, gruff expression sat heavy on his face like it always did.
It was nice seeing him without his mask amongst so many people, but that also meant that he couldn’t hide behind it, that he had to face you and everyone else with his whole self—no Masky there to save him.
“You’re being tense,” he said bluntly, breaking the silence.
“Well, yeah,” you answered, letting out a short breath.
Tim shrugged one shoulder, reaching out to take the cigarette from you and promptly taking two deep drags. “We’ve been alone together plenty of times before. This isn’t any different.”
“It is different,” you countered. “This isn't a mission or some supply run or something. This is… this.” You gestured vaguely at the cramped space left between you.
“I didn’t know context mattered that much to our relationship.”
You let out an awkward little laugh, shifting against the wall. “It’s funny you’re even calling it a relationship.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
You just shook your head, laughing again under your breath, unsure how to answer. He was being so blunt tonight, more direct than usual, like the straightforwardness was a shield. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw kept flexing, but he wouldn’t relax. It was like he was ready to punch you and run at any moment, if he wasn’t going to yell at you first.
“…Are you nervous?” you asked quietly.
Tim didn’t answer right away. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, studying the little ticking hands.
“Six minutes left,” he said instead, completely sidestepping the question.
You let out an awkward laugh and shook your head.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous, you know,” you told him. “This is weird, but it’s just a stupid game to embarrass everyone. It’s not serious.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “I know that.”
He passed the cigarette back. You brought it to your lips and inhaled, mostly just to give your hands something to do. The smoke filled your lungs, but it did nothing to ease the thick tension sitting between you, even if it did make you a little lightheaded.
The two of you kept staring at each other.
You finally spoke again. “Are you only playing because Jeff egged you on?”
Tim let out a dry laugh and looked down at his boots for a second before his gaze returned to yours.
“No,” he said simply. “I’m playing because I wanted to.”
“Why would you want to play something like this?”
“Why would you?” he asked, turning the question right back on you.
The air felt heavier. You swallowed. “I’m… not sure.”
Tim’s eyebrow lifted slightly.
“Really?” It seemed like he was almost teasing you.
You held his gaze for a long second, then let out a breath.
“No.”
He took the cigarette back when you offered it, but he didn’t bring it to his lips right away. He just kept watching you, smoke curling slowly from the tip.
The timer on his watch continued its quiet ticking. Five minutes left.
Tim finally spoke again. “Good. At least we’re being honest now.”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“You think I’m not being honest?”
Tim shook his head slowly. “Not with yourself.”
You let out a short, disbelieving breath. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not being honest with what you want.”
“Oh, so you know what I want now?” you shot back, irritation rising fast. “You know what’s best for me?”
“Yeah,” he said simply, like it was obvious. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
That irritated you more than it should have. You pushed off the wall slightly, glaring up at him.
“You’re just being rude now, man.”
“You’ve never had a problem with my rudeness before.”
“Context,” you muttered, reiterating the idea he couldn’t seem to grasp.
“Ah, yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Context.” He took one last drag before dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his boot. “Like the context of Jeff pretending he’s got some kind of claim over you… and you going along with it.”
Your stomach twisted. “Jeff does not have a claim over me.”
The words had barely left your mouth before Tim took a single, big step forward.
The already cramped closet shrank instantly. He loomed over you, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the weak light from the bulb overhead. The smell of smoke and pine and that familiar warm scent that always clung to him filled the air between you, almost overwhelming you. You pressed your back against the wall once again.
He stared down at you, almost looming.
“Then who does?”
His face was close now, close enough that you could see the thick stubble on his jaw and the tired lines at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t touching you, but the sheer presence of him made your back press harder against the wall.
You glared up at him, your heart kicking against your ribs as the silence stretched, but after a long moment, you finally answered.
“Nobody.”
You caught it.
For just a split second, Tim’s dark eyes flicked down to your mouth as you said the word, watching the shape of it on your lips. He snapped them back up to yours almost immediately, probably hoping you didn’t catch it. But you did.
You swallowed, then added, “Not even Slenderman.”
Tim let out a short, rough laugh.
“He wouldn’t like hearing you say that too much.”
“Well…” you tilted your head slightly, still staring up at him, “he’s not here, is he?”
This time, Tim didn’t even try to hide it. His gaze dropped to your mouth again and stayed there longer. You watched his jaw flex, the muscle ticking under the skin as his eyes traced the curve of your lips.
It felt like it was getting harder to breathe.
When his eyes finally dragged back up to yours, they seemed darker than before.
“No,” he murmured. “He’s not.”
Before you could say anything more, Tim reached into his jacket pocket again, pulling out the same pack of cigarettes.
You huffed. “Seriously? It’s been, what, two minutes since your last one. Can you really not take a break?”
He didn’t answer. He just shook another cigarette out, lit it with the same silver lighter you’d handed him earlier, and took two puffs. The tip burned bright orange, and exhaled the smoke through his nose.
Then his hand moved.
He reached out and clasped your jaw firmly, his thick fingers pressing into your cheeks and smooshing them together until your lips puckered. Your hand flew up on instinct, grabbing his wrist and tugging down, but he didn’t budge an inch. His grip was strong.
“Tim—” your voice was a little muffled against the strain of his grip. For a second you wondered if you’d actually pissed him off.
“Open.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Open your mouth.”
You searched his face, looking for any sign that he was joking, but there was nothing playful there. You didn’t know if you could laugh out of caution of making him more mad, so… you did what you were told.
When he was satisfied, Tim leaned in and placed the lit cigarette between your puckered lips, then used his thumb to close your mouth around it.
“You know what to do,” he murmured.
He didn’t let go of your jaw.
You had no choice but to inhale. You took a normal, comfortable drag, the smoke filling your lungs before you exhaled it through your nose. You stared up at him, confused, waiting for some kind of explanation. Was this supposed to be degrading? Some weird power move? Or some weird one-off joke that you’ve never known him to make?
But his grip stayed firm on your cheeks, and his expression didn’t change. He didn’t look satisfied.
You started to squirm, pawing at his arm. “Tim—”
“More,” he said.
You tried to speak around the cigarette, fumbling the filter between your teeth. “What’s happening right now—”
He stepped even closer, one of his boots planting between your feet so your legs were forced to part slightly. His other hand came up to tilt your chin higher, making you look straight up into his face. The overhead light cast harsh shadows over his stern features.
“Keep going,” he grunted.
You furrowed your brows, but obeyed, taking another drag. Then another. He watched every inhale with utmost interest.
“C’mon,” he said quietly, almost coaxing you. “Don’t stop.”
You inhaled again, deeper this time, pulling harder on the cigarette. The smoke burned hotter going down. Your head started to feel light.
“Again,” he continued. “As much as you can.”
You kept going, breath after breath, the nicotine hitting harder with every pull. Your vision began to swim. A heavy, dizzy fog rolled over your mind as the rush flooded your system. Your knees felt weak. The hand you had on his arm tightened, trying to steady yourself as the world tilted slightly.
Tim’s grip on your jaw stayed iron-still, holding you in place while he watched your face closely, seeing every detail of your flushed cheeks and drooping eyes and your steadily relaxing muscles.
“That’s it,” he muttered, soothing, almost. “One more. Big one.”
You whimpered softly around the cigarette, head spinning badly now, but you did it anyway. You pulled long and deep until your lungs were burning and the dizziness crashed over you like a wave. The nicotine buzz was overwhelming and sharp and heady, and making everything feel floaty and too warm.
Tim finally pulled the cigarette from between your lips.
You immediately exhaled hard, right into his face—a thick cloud of smoke rushing out as you tried to empty your burning lungs. The motion triggered a coughing fit. Your eyes watered, your vision became blurry, and you felt completely dizzy and messy, probably looking a little disheveled.
But Tim kept his hand firmly on your jaw, holding your face in place. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched you struggle, not out of malice but he was clearly satisfied now.
Your head was still swimming badly. You tried to steady yourself, taking shaky, deep breaths of the thick, smoggy air in the tiny closet. The nicotine buzz was intense, making everything feel too floaty and too warm and too out of your body.
“Tim… I feel really dizzy,” you managed, a little breathless.
You heard him chuckle, “I know.”
His thumb slowly dragged across your bottom lip, wiping away the spit that had gathered there from coughing and your heavy breathing. His eyes followed the motion.
Then, without warning, he brought the cigarette back to his own mouth, took one long, final drag, and dropped it to the floor. He crushed it under his boot right next to the first one.
Before you could even catch your breath, Tim leaned down and kissed you.
He grabbed both sides of your face with his rough hands, holding you firmly as he brought your faces together. Your hands shot up and pressed against his chest, bracing yourself against the embarrassment that was breaking through your mental haze. This was ridiculous. It was some weird, controlling kink thing… but your brain wasn’t working well enough to care.
All you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against your cheeks and how good his mouth felt on yours.
Then his tongue pushed past your lips, and he breathed the smoke from his lungs into your mouth.
The sudden rush made your head spin all over again. You let out a muffled groan and gripped the front of his jacket tighter, your fingers twisting into the thick fabric. Tim responded by dropping his hands to your waist and yanking your body flush against his.
Oh.
He was hard. You could feel him clearly through his jeans, pressed against your lower stomach. For a split second, nervousness flared in your chest.
Should you be nervous? Probably.
But the thought dissolved almost as quickly as it came.
Fuck it.
You kissed him back harder, desperate to feel something solid amongst all of your dizziness. Tim groaned in his throat and tilted your head, kissing you like he was starving for it, like this was all he’d ever wanted.
It became too much.
The smoke, the nicotine, the heat of his body—you couldn’t breathe. You pushed against his chest with both hands. Tim pulled back just enough for you both to gasp for air.
Thick smoke wafted out of both of your mouths, curling between your faces and up into the muggy air. You noted how Tim’s face looked, how the smoke parted around his jaw and up above the dark hair in his head. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. His hands stayed locked on your waist, but his chest rose and fell rhythmically under your palms.
It was getting hard to tell if Tim had always looked this good, or if the overwhelming amount of nicotine in your bloodstream was making your brain go numb.
But after a minute of panting, you felt your senses returning—most notably, the loud pulse of the music from the living room vibrating through the walls and into your shaky bones. You slowly started regaining your steadiness, the dizzy fog beginning to lift. Tim slid a flat palm up your back.
“Deep breaths,” he hums.
You obeyed without thinking, too deep in whatever headspace he’d pushed you into to pretend it didn’t feel ridiculously good. Each inhale felt almost euphoric, your chest rising and falling as you breathed in the thick, smoky air. You gripped the shoulders of his jacket, and after a moment you noticed he was breathing in time with you, drinking down fresh air as you did.
You glanced up at his face. The usual stern mask he wears had fallen into something lazier, almost hazy. He looked a little lost just staring at you with his half-lidded eyes.
When you blinked long enough to reset your vision, you met his eyes again, and he began to lean in toward your lips, his eyes dropping to your mouth in time with his movement. You let him come to you, tilting your chin up to meet him—
His watch started beeping sharply under his sleeve, knocking the moment right off kilter.
You both jerked back, staring at each other like you’d completely forgotten why you were even in the closet in the first place. Whatever obnoxious spell you both were under vanished. From outside, the music in the living room suddenly cut off. You could hear laughter and the sound of people scrambling down the hallway toward you.
Tim stepped back, putting space between you again. He adjusted his jeans, and tried his best to smooth his jacket out. By the time the door flew open, you were both standing roughly where you started with your backs against opposite walls, trying (and failing) to look casual.
The closet door swung open and you were immediately hit with fresh air and very nosy faces.
Toby’s was the only one you registered, though. The thick cloud of smoke rolled out past them into the hallway. He wrinkled his nose dramatically, grimacing at you two.
“J-Jesus, man,” he laughed. “You’re really smm-smoking in h-here? In a fucking clo-closet?”
Tim just blew air through his nose, clearly unimpressed. He shoved Toby’s head to the side and stepped out, brushing past the group without another word. He didn’t even glance back at you before heading down the hall.
You tried to follow, but Toby’s eyes locked onto you and he let out a shrill laugh.
“Ho-ly shit. You don’t loo-look too hah-hot right now.”
“Shut up,” you groaned, brushing past him as he started firing off questions.
“What’d h-he do? D-Did he make yo-you cry? Why do you smell like an ahh-ashtray? Wait—did you guys actually do an-anything or—”
You ignored him and made a beeline for the kitchen, desperate for something cold to drink. Your head was still swimmy and light, the nicotine making everything feel slightly tilted as you stumbled through the still-trashed house.
You passed Tim on the way. He had already found his usual spot right next to Brian, the two of them leaning against the wall like they were physically incapable of being more than three feet apart for more than ten minutes. Tim’s eyes flicked to you as you walked by, but he didn’t say anything. Brian, however, didn’t take his eyes off of you as you passed, gathering all the information he needed just from the state of you.
You yanked open the fridge, grabbed the first beer you saw, and popped it open. You drank nearly half of it in one go, the cold yeasty liquid soothing your raw throat and helping ground you a little.
Unfortunately, you weren’t alone for long.
Toby wandered in after you, Natalie right beside him and EJ trailing quietly behind them. The three of them formed a little triangle, watching you like a very nosy, very abrasive little troupe of bastards.
Most of the party in the living room had devolved into loud chugging contests and some money-gambling version of Go Fish that involved way too many rules and even more yelling. You were grateful almost everyone else was too distracted to notice how obviously rattled you were—except for these dipshits.
Toby leaned on the island counter, grinning wide enough to make your blood boil a bit. “So… you guh-gonna tell us what hah-happened in there or do w-we have to guess?”
Natalie tilted her head. “You look like you just got punched in the face… but, like, not in a bad way.”
You opened your mouth, ready to snap something mean and defensive, but before you could get it out, Brian walked into the kitchen.
“Alright, that’s enough,” he waved a hand at the trio. “Move along. Go have your little orgy somewhere else and leave people alone.”
Jack let out a raspy little laugh, which was rare enough that it surprised you into laughing too. Toby whined dramatically but let Natalie tug him away. The three of them shuffled out, Toby still throwing questions over his shoulder until they disappeared back toward the living room and out of your field of vision.
Once they were gone, Brian opened the fridge, rummaged through the junk and pulled out a beer for himself, then popped the tab. He leaned against the counter across from you and took a sip as he studied your face, which you were trying very hard to make seem normal.
“You alright?” he asked quietly.
You nodded, sipping at your beer if only to give your hands something to do. “Yeah… just a little… shaken up.”
Brian gave an understanding nod. “Tim can be a little intense sometimes. He’s either completely honed in or not interested at all. Sometimes he forgets that not everybody is like that, too.”
Your face burned with embarrassment, but if there was anyone you could talk to about this, it was Brian. He knew Tim better than anyone.
You tapped the cold glass of the bottle in your hands for a second, then asked, “Do you think he only did it because he was pissed about Jeff?”
Brian shook his head immediately.
“Nah. Tim doesn’t work like that. Jeff’s just an annoying, loud mouth kid to him. He doesn’t lose his head over shit like that.”
You stared down at your beer, chewing on your lip. “Then… why?”
Brian took another sip, then jerked his chin toward the back door.
“He’s out on the porch right now. And—he’s not smoking.” Brian raised his eyebrows. “When Tim’s not smoking, it means he’s thinking. Thinking real hard.”
He pushed off the counter, nodding toward the fridge.
“Go take him a beer. That’ll ease him up.”
You watched Brian disappear back into the living room, then immediately pressed the cold beer bottle against your forehead and closed your eyes. The chill helped a little, but your stomach was still doing nervous flips. Not scared-of-Tim flips. Just stupid, schoolgirl-crush, heart-in-your-throat flips. Barf. It was embarrassing as hell.
“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself.
You popped open the fridge again, grabbed the last beer, and started heading for the back porch.
But the second you reached the kitchen doorway, you froze.
Jeff was standing there, leaning against the frame, and blocking your path. He didn’t say a word. Just stared at you. And it was so… unreadable. His eyes flicked over your face, your slightly messy hair, the flush still lingering on your cheeks.
You stared right back.
The silence stretched uncomfortably. For a moment it felt like neither of you would move, but for as much ruckus as Jeff had caused tonight, you were more-than-willing to be rid of him right now. You had bigger things on your plate.
You squared your shoulders and shoved past him, knocking his arm out of the way with your shoulder.
He didn’t try to stop you.
You moved quickly through the hallway, the noise of the party fading behind you as you pushed through the back door and stepped out onto the wrap-around back porch.
The night air was cooler out here compared to the thick mug of coffee alcohol and smoke inside, trading the damp smells for fresh pines and wet dirt. Most of the party had moved or stayed inside, so the porch was vacant for the most part. But at the far end, where the railing curved into shadows and no one could see if they didn’t come outside, stood Tim.
He was leaning forward on the railing, staring out into the dark tree line like he was looking for something. He didn’t turn when he heard the door open. He didn’t glance over as your shoes creaked across the wooden planks. But you knew that he knew it was you.
You walked up and stopped beside him, setting the unopened beer on the railing near his hand, little beads of condensation dripping onto the wood.
For a few seconds, there was only the sound of crickets and the low hum from inside. You looked out into the treeline too, seeing how the dark shadows gave way to a black void beyond where the porch lights could reach. There were so many creatures and monsters out there, but none of them even came close to shaking your nerves like the man standing right next to you.
“Hey.”
Tim finally turned his head, his eyes sliding over to meet yours.
Tim’s stare had always been like iron, so sharp and guarded and prickling with intensity that kept almost everyone at arm’s length. But right now it looked… weary? Tired in a way that seemed deeper than just the late hour and the shitty beer.
Then his gaze dropped to the bottle in your hand.
“What’s this?”
“Peace offering,” you said, pushing it toward him a little further. “You looked like you could use one.”
Tim looked at you again, then at the bottle, before taking it. He twisted the cap off and took a long pull. Almost immediately his face twisted and he huffed through his nose.
“Jesus Christ, that’s awful.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you took another drink from your own. For a while, the two of you just leaned against the railing side by side, listening to the crickets and the distant rustle of the woods. The party noises inside felt miles away.
Eventually Tim huffed again, almost like he was annoyed with himself.
“I’m sorry for overstepping in there,” he said quietly. “I got lost in the theatrics of it all.”
You shook your head. “I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t like it.”
…
You both caught it at the same time—the admission, the way it lingered. Your eyes met again.
Tim turned his head fully toward you, that weary look sharpening into something more focused.
“Did you like it?” he asked, and it’s like the words turned to static as they reached your ears.
You looked down at your shoes for a minute.
It had thrown you off, sure. The tightness of the space, the weird dynamic between you two, even the sheer amount of embarrassment from having to play this game at all made your brain feel like mush. But you couldn’t deny it.
It felt good.
The dizziness. The way your head went fuzzy and floaty. The way he took control of you completely and didn’t let you hide from it. The way every thought in your brain is stamped out the moment oxygen is absent from you.
Yeah… it felt good. A lot better than you were ever going to admit.
You took a big drink to buy yourself time for something witty to say, only to realize you’d already finished the entire bottle and there were only droplets left. You sighed and met his stare again.
“It’s a weird question,” you grimaced with an awkward little laugh.
Tim didn’t laugh with you.
He pushed off of the railing and stepped closer, close enough that you were suddenly the same distance apart as you’d been in that stupid closet. And who would’ve thought, but the fresh air out here suddenly became thicker in your lungs too.
His free hand lifted slowly. You watched it rise, your heart kicking off its rapid thumps like shoes in a washing machine once again. His fingers brushed the side of your neck first, and he was sure to feel the goosebumps that were rising there, before they slid from their position to lace around either side of your throat. His palm rested just under your chin.
You stalled completely. Went stock-still.
Heat flooded your face so fast you were sure you looked ridiculous. That familiar, stupid nervousness rushed back over you like a wave, making your breath catch and the tips of your fingers feel numb.
“Do you know your answer now?” he grumbled.
You stared up at him, completely dumbfounded. The words wouldn’t come. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Before you could find your voice, Tim reached down with his free hand and pried the empty beer bottle you’d forgotten about from your fingers. He set it on the railing beside his own, then closed the last bit of distance between you until your noses almost bumped.
His fingers flexed against the sides of your neck, applying the easiest amount of pressure to your airway.
You gasped sharply and your hands flew up on instinct, grabbing his wrist tightly.
“Is this okay?” he murmured.
You didn’t answer right away. The pressure made your breath go shallow, a warm, heavy feeling blooming in your head. It wasn’t painful—just intense. Overwhelming. Your pulse hammered against his palm.
After a second, you gave him a small nod.
That was all he needed.
Tim leaned in and kissed you, his beer-tasting lips sliding to meet yours, while his hand squeezed a little harder around your throat. It pinpointed your senses onto him—onto how labored he was making your breaths, how fuzzy he was making you feel, how warm and mushy and light all at once.
You whimpered against his mouth, the sound embarrassingly whiny and needy as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your fingers tightened around his wrist, doing little to keep yourself afloat as your knees weakened.
Tim’s other hand slid down and grabbed your hip firmly, fingers digging in as he pulled you tighter against him.
You tilted your head up further, sliding your hands from his wrist all the way up to the collar of his jacket. You tugged at him, yanking his chest flush against yours. Tim grunted, growling into the kiss and pushing his tongue between your lips, invading your senses.
Things started to get muggy really quick.
His hand around your throat tightened just enough to make your airway feel suddenly shallow. Every breath came out smaller, sweeter, turning your little gasps and whines into something embarrassingly needy between kisses. The more you whimpered, the more Tim chuckled warmly against your mouth.
He finally pulled back just enough for you to gasp in a proper breath, but his hand stayed glued around your throat firmly. Spit glistened on your swollen lips. You were the picture of bliss right now with your hazy eyes and flushed cheeks and lightheaded demeanor. Tim studied your face for a second, then shook his head slightly, like he wasn’t satisfied.
“You’re still too coherent,” he grumbled.
His hand left your hip and rose to your mouth. His thumb traced slowly around your wet lips, smearing the spit across them until they shone. Then he pushed his thumb between your parted lips, sliding it over your tongue.
You tasted the salt of his skin and sighed.
He gently bobbed his thumb in and out of your mouth, teasing, his eyes locked on the sight. You wrapped your lips around it instinctively and started licking, swirling your tongue under the pad of his thumb like it wasn’t completely desperate and embarrassing.
The effect on Tim was immediate, though.
“Fuck…” He pressed his thumb deeper for a moment, then pulled it out slowly, dragging it across your bottom lip. His hand around your throat flexed again, applying that perfect amount of pressure that made your head swim even more and your blinking grow more rapid.
“You have no idea what you look like right now.” His hips pressed forward against you, letting you feel exactly how hard he was. “How good you look.”
Tim dipped his thumb back into your mouth, sliding it slowly over your tongue. Without thinking, you started bobbing your head, sucking on it with gently eager pulls.
“Good job,” his voice dripped with approval.
The words hit you like a spark to dry tinder. Your stomach flipped, heat flooding low in your belly.
He pulled his thumb out, dragging it across your bottom lip and leaving your mouth open and wet. Then he latched his mouth back into yours, kissing you deeply while his hand squeezed tighter.
You moaned into his mouth, the sound snagged as your air began to dissipate.
The kiss turned heated, your tongues sliding hot and messy, teeth nipping each other's lips, both of you breathing hard through it. Tim growled against you, devouring every little sound you gave him.
He pulled back just enough to speak. “If you wanted this the whole time, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”
Then his grip on your throat tightened hard.
Your eyes widened. A sharp, shrill sound escaped you as your airflow suddenly cut off completely. Your hands flew back to his wrist, gripping tight. Your eyes fluttered with tears and rolled slightly as the pressure built fast in your head.
“That’s it,” he kept his voice steady. “Don’t be too loud now, can’t have anybody seeing what a mess you are, now can we?”
In your haze, everything felt overwhelming. The rush of blood making your face burn hot. The tight, rigid tension in your body. The floating sensation in your head. It was turning you on so badly you could barely think, could barely keep tabs on the rest of your body.
So, you gave in.
Your body went a little limp in his hold, trusting him, melting against his chest. Failed little breaths turned into choked, whimpering moans that rumbled against his palm. Your thighs pressed together as heat throbbed between them horribly. Tim groaned in time with your sounds, pressing his hard cock against your hip and grinding away, letting you feel how much this was affecting him too.
“Does it feel good?” his lips brushed your cheek as he kissed you almost tenderly. “You can let go. I’ve got you, doll.”
You were clawing at his wrist now, not to pull him off, but because the pressure in your head kept building at a staggering rate, a bright white heat spreading through your senses, numbing everything else. It felt so fucking good. So freeing. Like every nerve in your body was lit up and floating at the same time.
You felt warm lines of tears roll down your cheeks.
“Awh… poor thing,” he breathed. “Don’t you know anybody could walk around this porch right now and see you? Anyone can see what a… fuck… what a mess you are.”
He stilled up after he said that, like he realized something, like he just had the air punched out of him.
Then he finally let go.
The rush of air back into your lungs hit you like a truck. You coughed violently, your chest doing great swoops as you gasped and choked, desperately trying to pull oxygen back in and getting interrupted by your own coughs. Your legs buckled, but Tim caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you upright against his chest.
He grumbled his support through it, “There you go. Take it easy.”
When you finally felt steady enough, you lifted your head from its position of staring blearily down at your shoes. Your cheeks were wet with tears, and you could still feel the mess of spit on your swollen lips. The embarrassment tries to wash over you, but is ultimately overpowered by the thumping ache in your stomach and head.
Tim tilted your chin up with his thumb, studying your face carefully.
“You alright?” he asked, glancing from one eye to the other, registering how much wider your pupils had become.
You took a shaky second, then nodded. “…Yeah.”
It was silent for a moment, before you both spoke again:
“You satisfi—?”
“Can you do it again?”
Tim groaned. “Fuck.”
He grabbed your arm and tugged you backward along the porch, moving you both around the corner of the house where the wrap-around deck tucked against the wall. It was much more private here—someone would have to step fully outside and round the corner to see you.
The second you were hidden from view, Tim’s hands landed on your shoulders and pushed you down.
Your knees hit the wooden planks without any resistance. The dizziness was back full tilt, so you swayed a little as you settled, fighting the fog in your head to look up at him. Tim towered over you, broad and dark against the night sky, the porch light casting sharp shadows across his burly face.
Jesus Christ, he’s hot as fuck.
He stared down at you for a moment, breathing harder now, his chest rising and falling in big pulses. He brought both hands to either side of your face, cupping your cheeks and curling his fingers under your jaw. His thumbs brushed over your tear-streaked skin, wiping some of it away.
You broke eye contact and looked straight ahead, right at your eye level.
Fuck.
Tim’s bulge was obvious, straining hard against the front of his jeans, the thick outline pulsing slightly with his heartbeat. Your lips parted on a shaky gasp. Even with your vision still a little blurry from the lack of oxygen, it was so evident, you couldn’t look away. Your mouth watered.
You wanted it. Horribly.
Tim slid one hand to the back of your head, cupping it to keep your limp, oxygen-deprived body from tipping over. Your skin felt prickly all over, your nerves buzzing and firing off in little shivers.
You dragged your gaze back up to his face, swallowing hard.
“I want it,” you whispered, your voice so small you barely even heard it.
Tim’s lips curved into a grin, his eyebrows raising in mock question. The sight of it made your stomach flip.
“Yeah?” he murmured, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You want it so bad… then you’re gonna have to take it for yourself.”
Your eyes dropped back down in front of you, then up to his belt. Your hands felt weak, but you raised them anyway and you worked at his belt buckle, the metal clinking as you pulled the leather through the clasps, fighting to get it open.
Tim didn’t help you. He just stood there, letting you struggle with the button and zipper, punctuating every step of the way with little sighs or grunts of approval.
“That’s it,” he said when you finally got the zipper down. “Go on, then. Show me what you want.”
Tim leaned his shoulders back against the side of the house, the wood creaking under his weight as he rolled his hips forward just slightly, like he was offering himself to you—or asking you to hurry up—you weren’t sure.
He was wearing dark navy boxers, and right at the tip of the very prominent bulge there was a small, damp spot where the fabric clung to him. Heart hammering, you shifted higher on your knees. Your hands were still shaky from the lack of oxygen earlier, but you reached up anyway, curling your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. His skin was warm, almost hot, under your fingertips. You noticed the dark trail of hair starting just below his navel, leading down and disappearing beneath the fabric.
You swallowed hard and tugged his boxers down.
The second you pulled them past his hips, his cock sprang free, so heavy, bobbing once right in front of your face.
Oh my god.
He was big. Not porn-star scumbag long, but thick like the rest of his body, girthy in a way that made your stomach tighten with nervous excitement. The flushed head was already glistening with pre-cum, a shiny bead forming at the slit and threatening to drip right there in front of your lips. He was thickest in the middle, the length curving a bit where a prominent vein snaked the underside, throbbing every few moments. You could see it twitch slightly in time with his pulse. All to lead to a dark, messy patch of hair at his pelvis.
Everything felt hazy. You were a little awestruck and more than a little intimidated.
Tim let out a relieved huff when his cock finally fell free, almost like he’d been holding his breath. You could feel the heat rolling off him, smell the musk of his skin and the air from the night. Your thighs pressed together instinctively as another wave of dizzy heat washed through you.
Tim’s voice groveled from above you, “You gonna just stare at it all night?”
There was a punch of amusement in his tone, but mostly it was strained, like he was trying very hard to stay patient while you knelt before him, wide-eyed and visibly overwhelmed.
His cock gave another twitch right in front of you, another bead of pre-cum forming at the tip.
“I… I’ve never… I mean—”
Tim chuckled. “Use your words.”
You swallowed over the lump in your throat, your cheeks burning hotter. “I’m nervous,” you mumbled. “I’ve never done… this before.”
Tim raised an eyebrow, tilting his head so he was looking down the bridge of his nose at you. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Nobody’s used this mouth before?” he asked, almost disbelieving.
He slid his hand from the back of your head to cup under your chin, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip before tugging it down and parting your lips for him. His brows furrowed as he stared at your open mouth.
You licked your lips nervously. “Will you… be easy?”
Tim let out a chuckle, the sound warm in his chest.
“As much as I can be,” he grinned.
Then both of his hands moved to either side of your head, cupping your jaw and cheeks. You placed your hands over his, clutching his fingers tightly as he guided your head forward. Your heartbeat was so violent in your chest you thought he’d be able to hear it.
“Open up.”
You parted your lips wider, your eyes fixed on his tip as it disappeared under your nose and he eased the head past them. The tip bumped your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum spreading across your mouth. You let out a shaky breath through your nose, squeezing his hands harder.
The thick head of his cock slid over your tongue as he pushed in slowly. You opened your mouth wider on instinct, trying to make room for him. He tasted warm and a little gritty, exactly like how he always smelled naturally. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to relax your jaw, breathing quickly through your nose.
Tim let out a groan above you, “Fuck… so wet,” his voice tight with restraint.
He angled your head a little more with both hands and pushed forward again. The tip bumped against the roof of your mouth, making you jerk slightly. Tim hissed through his teeth.
“Watch your teeth, sweetheart.”
He adjusted the angle and pushed a little deeper. You felt your lips stretch around him as roughly the first third of his length filled your mouth. It was a lot and heavy on your tongue, stretching your jaw in a way that made your head spin even more.
You ran your tongue slowly along the sensitive underside of the head, licking at the leaking slit.
“Shit—” Tim cursed sharply, his hips twitching forward on their own.
He shifted his weight, steadying himself against the wall, then tugged your head back and forth, bobbing you along the first few inches of his cock. The motion was slow, letting you get used to the size and weight of him.
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Just like that. Relax your jaw… good. Suck a little harder when I pull you forward—mmh—yeah, fuck, just like that.”
He guided your head forward and back, daring to pull you a little deeper on his length every time.
“Easy now,” he instructed, stroking your cheek. “Don’t try to take too much yet. Just focus on relaxing—good. Yeah. You’re doing good.”
You could feel his hesitance in how he grabbed you, how he was holding himself stiff to not jar you too roughly. But you asked for this, so he shouldn’t hold back for your sake.
So when he pulled your head back, you scrunched your brows and pushed forward instead, taking more of him into your mouth. Tim groaned, his thumbs pressing harder into your cheeks as you stretched your lips wider around his size. Nearly halfway now.
You coughed around him, your eyes watering as he filled your mouth so completely. The stretch burned pleasantly at the corners of your lips and your jaw ached from the awkward stretch, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let go of his wrists. One hand braced against his pelvis, feeling the tense muscle straining there, while the other wrapped around the thick base of his cock and gave a tentative squeeze.
Tim cursed sharply under his breath, his thumbs digging harder into your cheeks. “There you go,” he grunted.
You leaned in and took him deeper, sucking on the first half of his length as best you could. The hand wrapped around his base made it easier to angle him, letting you slide your lips further down his shaft. You bobbed your head slowly, trying to find a rhythm, your tongue pressing and sliding along the underside as you worked him.
Tim's hips tried to buck forward before he caught himself.
“Shit… you sure you’ve never done this before?” he breathed, staring down at you. “You’re a fucking natural.”
He slid one hand into your hair, gripping just tight enough to guide you, and started pulling your head back and forth rhythmically. You let him set it, relaxing your jaw as much as you could while your hand continued stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach. Your spit was already coating him, making everything slick and messy, dripping down his shaft as your tongue ran over every inch you could reach.
Tim’s breathing grew ragged, broken up by low grunts and curses every time you sucked harder or swirled your tongue around the sensitive head.
“That’s it… ahh—fuck,” he murmured when you choked a little. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this good.”
He rocked his hips in time with the movement of your head, fucking shallowly into your mouth while his fingers stayed tangled in your hair. The obscene wet sounds coming from your mouth were the only noise rivaling the crickets and bugs in the woods, besides Tim’s heavy breathing and the mumbled jump of music from inside. Please let it be loud enough so nobody can hear, you thought.
You tried to take more of him, pushing forward eagerly, but the thick head of his cock nudged against the entrance of your throat and you immediately choked, coughing hard around him. You had to pull back, gasping with watery eyes.
Frustration burned in your chest. You wanted this—wanted him—so you tried again, forcing yourself deeper. Same result. Your throat closed up, and you gagged, pulling back with a wet, embarrassing sound.
One more try. You opened wider, shoved your face forward, and immediately choked again. Lewd, messy noises spilled from your throat as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
Tim’s hands tightened on the sides of your head.
“Easy,” he cooed. “Slow down, doll. You’re pushing too hard.”
He guided you back until just the swollen tip rested on your tongue. You sucked on it obediently, apologetically, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit, tasting the salty pre-cum that kept dribbling out. Tim let out a moan, gritting his teeth as he watched.
You tried again anyway, your jaw aching in protest as you shoved forward, furrowing your brows in concentration. The wet sounds that came out of you were filthy. Tim groaned again, but this time he pulled you off completely, his cock slipping from your lips with a slick pop.
You gasped for air, spit and tears smeared across your chin and cheeks as you recollected your senses. Tim wiped at your face with his thumb, smearing the mess even more as he looked down at you.
“You’re doing perfectly,” he strained. “What’s the matter?”
You swallowed, still catching your breath, staring at his throbbing, spit-slick cock hovering in front of you—which you wanted so desperately.
“I want you to go harder,” you choked over a hoarse voice.
“You’ve barely started. You need to get comfortable first—”
“I don’t care,” you cut in, looking up at him with watery eyes. “I want you to use me. Like how you choked me earlier… I want to feel that. I want you to make me feel that way.”
Tim stalled, staring down at you. His cock gave a big twitch right in front of your face, drooling another thick bead of pre-cum that slowly dripped down the shaft. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the careful, controlled part of him warring with raw want.
Then something in his expression shifted.
He reached down and planted his hand firmly on the crown of your head, his fingers curling tight into your hair. He jerked your head back so you were looking straight up at him. His face was dark now, eyes laden with lust.
“I’ll tell you what to do,” he gripped. “But you listen to me. You fight me and you’ll hurt yourself. Understand?”
You nodded quickly, your heart racing.
Tim gripped the base of his cock with his other hand and pulled your head forward. He tapped the glistening tip against your bottom lip a few times, teasing the spit that gleamed there.
“Open.”
You parted your lips obediently, slipping your tongue out to meet him. He slid the head into your mouth, letting you close your lips around it. Then his hand moved to the back of your head, planting a base there.
“Relax,” he ordered. “Don’t fight it.”
Before you could even nod, he pushed forward, sliding deep in one smooth thrust until the head bumped the back of your mouth and pressed against the entrance of your throat. You gagged instantly, but he pulled back just as fast, only to push in again, setting a relentless rhythm.
“Oh, there we go,” he grumbled through his pleasure. “Good fucking girl. Just let me use this pretty mouth.”
Tim didn’t hold back anymore.
He tightened his grip in your hair and started fucking your mouth with punctuated thrusts, his hips snapping forward to push deeper into the wet heat of your mouth with deep grunts and growls. You grabbed onto his jean-clad thighs for balance, digging your fingers into the rough fabric as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best not to fight the constant intrusion despite how your body wanted to.
Every forward snap of his hips made his belt buckle jingle beside your ear. Lewd gags and choked little noises escaping you with every thrust as the thick head of his cock battered the back of your mouth.
“Fuck…” Tim hissed through gritted teeth, tugging your hair. “That’s it—just take it. Christ, your mouth feels so goddamn good.”
He moaned when you gagged harder around him, his hips stuttering for a second before he pushed in again, a little deeper this time.
“Shit—easy, sweetheart, easy,” he panted, even as he kept thrusting. “I know it’s a lot—mmh—but your choking is so pretty. C’mon, try again.”
You grunted around him with every deep push, spit dripping down your chin as your throat convulsed. Tears slipped freely down your cheeks now, but you didn’t pull away. You held onto his thighs tighter, trying to take deep breaths of air through your nose whenever he pulled back.
Tim cursed under his breath, half at you, half at himself.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this to you… not like this—ah, shit—” He groaned loudly as you swallowed around him. “But you feel too fucking good. This greedy little mouth… sucking me like you were made for it.”
Tim slowed his hips, easing you forward until just the thick middle of his cock rested between your lips. He let you suck him slowly, dragging your wrapped lips from the middle of his shaft all the way up to the swollen, leaking tip.
“Relax,” he sighed. “Don’t fight it. You’re gonna take all of me.”
A sharp jolt of nervousness shot through you like electricity, but it only made the heat between your legs throb harder. You blinked slowly with glassy eyes, and nodded around him.
He cupped the back of your head firmer. “Lean your head back a little… yeah, just like that. Open wider for me, doll. Relax your throat. Let me give you what you want.”
You did as he said, tilting your head back and opening your mouth as wide as you could, sucking gently on the tip while your tongue swirled around it.
Tim started pushing in again. This time he didn’t stop where he had before.
You felt the prominent vein along his shaft slide over your tongue as he fed more of his thick cock into your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch, especially when he reached the widest part of him. You coughed around his length as the head pressed firmly against the tight entrance of your throat.
“Easy… easy,” Tim breathed, holding you still. “Just breathe through your nose.”
He abused that spot, shallowly fucking the head of his cock against the beginning of your throat with small, insistent nudges that made you gag and choke wetly around him. Spit dripped down your chin in messy strings.
“Relax your throat,” he grit out. “Let me in. Come on, sweetheart, open up for me. I know you can take it.”
You whimpered around his cock, tears slipping down your cheeks again, but you tried—focusing on his voice, on relaxing your throat even as your body instinctively fought the intrusion, on every buzzing nerve in your head.
He pushed forward again, feeding more of his thick cock past the uncooperative ring of muscle at the back of your throat. The stretch burned, and you choked around him, again and again, but Tim didn’t pull back.
“C’mon,” he growled. “Let it happen.”
You tried. God, you tried. But the deeper he went, the harder it became. It was like he was pushing into your brain. You couldn’t tell if you were more frustrated that you weren’t being choked on his cock, or that him choking you like this wasn’t working.
“Look at me.”
You forced your watery eyes to peel open and up to his. The intensity in his stare was almost too much—you had nowhere else to look. Only his tan skin, dark hair, and everything you never knew you wanted so badly.
“Just focus here,” he muttered. “Keep lookin’ at me.”
He kept pushing, inch by inch, until the widest part of his cock forced its way past that tight ring. Your throat spasmed violently around him. You coughed and gagged, your body jerking and trying to pull away, but Tim held your head firmly in place, refusing to let you pull away.
“Shh. Relax… just relax,” he growled, trying to be soothing even as his own breathing grew ragged. “You’re doin’… so good. Takin’ me so deep. Fuck, I can feel your throat squeezin’ me…”
Finally, with one last slow push, he bottomed out.
Your nose pressed flush against his pelvis, buried in the coarse patch of dark hair. His length throbbed deep down your throat, completely cutting off your air. The fullness was overwhelming to an alarming rate.
Tim let out a long groan, his hips jerking and settling as he held you there.
“Jesus Christ… all the way. You got every fuckin’ inch.” His voice was hoarse, something you’d never really heard before. “Good. Such a good fucking job for me.”
You were getting lightheaded fast.
The world blurred at the edges, a warm, floaty haze settling over everything. Your throat fluttered and squeezed around the thick length of Tim’s cock, every tiny twitch and throb pulling another noise from him. But underneath the strain, the ache, the burning stretch… you felt nothing but bliss.
He’d bottomed out completely. The heavy head of his cock nestled deep in your throat like it belonged there. It felt like a bell had rung somewhere inside your skull—a deep, resonant thrum. The pressure, the fullness, the way your body fought and then haphazardly surrendered… it was overwhelming in the best way. You couldn’t breathe. You were gagging softly around him, tears streaming down your face, but none of it mattered. It felt too good. Like being choked from the inside out. Like something filthy touching a part of you no one else had ever reached.
Tim’s hand slid tenderly over your wet cheek, his thumb brushing away some of the tears as he looked down at you.
“So pretty,” he rasped. “So warm.”
His hand drifted lower, cupping under your jaw for a moment, petting you almost sweetly. Then it kept going.
You felt his palm settle over the front of your throat.
Your dazed eyes blinked into focus.
Tim’s fingers curled around your neck, squeezing with a good amount of pressure while his cock stayed buried. Your hand flew up and gripped his forearm where you felt it. A muffled whine vibrated around his length as your vision began to tunnel, black creeping in at the edges. Your head felt like it was floating, pulsing with white-hot heat, but the lack of air made everything sharper and softer at the same time. Everything was contradictory.
“Settle down… I’ve got you,” Tim murmured. “Look at you. You’re doing great.”
He kept the pressure steady, not crushing, but firm enough that every shallow, failed attempt at breath turned into a weak, pathetic gag that made your head strain further. Your body trembled. You felt like you were burning alive—every nerve lit up, body aching, head spinning so badly you thought you might actually pass out.
And you didn’t care.
It felt too good. The numbness, the heat, the overwhelming fullness, how Tim was looking down at you like you were the only thing in the world… it was addictive.
Tim’s thumb stroked over the front of your throat, feeling the way his own cock bulged there as he held you pinned.
You gazed up at him through puffy, tear-blurred eyes, barely separating where his face began and the porch lights ended. But what you could see was flushed raw, his stern mask cracked open to leave nothing but visceral need.
He gave one involuntary bump of his hips, nudging just a little deeper, and cursed sharply under his breath.
“Shit… I’m not gonna last like this,” he growled.
Then something shifted in him. Anxious, restless energy took over, and his hands moved to either side of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he carefully dragged his cock back. You felt every thick inch sliding out of your throat—the sudden rush of air, the wet, obscene pull, the way your throat shuttered and clenched around nothing once he was almost all the way out.
You barely had time to breathe before he thrust back in.
Fuck.
The stretch burned as he pushed deep again and bottomed out. Then he did it again. And again.
Tim started fucking your throat in earnest.
He was growly now, almost animalistic with deep, frustrated grunts escaping him with every rough snap of his hips. He’d pull back halfway, just enough for you to feel the head drag across your tongue, before slamming back in, forcing himself past that tight ring and burying his cock to the hilt.
“Fuck—that’s it,” he rasped, voice breaking. “Take it. Just fuckin’ take it all.”
Your jaw had gone completely slack, your lips stretched wide around the base of him as he used your mouth. Every thrust punched a wet, choked gag out of you. Spit poured down your chin in messy strings, dripping onto your chest and the wooden porch below. Your hands stayed clenched tight on his thighs, holding on for dear life while he fucked your throat with growing urgency. Your body fought desperately for air that never came, but your brain couldn’t be more happy.
Tim’s hand slid from your hair to your cheek, his rough palm surprisingly gentle as he brushed away some of the tears still rolling down your skin. Then his thumb slipped into the corner of your mouth, hooking inside and pulling your lips open even wider, exposing your tongue for him buried under the weight of his length.
You blinked slowly and let your head go completely lax in his hold. You wanted him to use you exactly how he needed.
“I’m close,” he rasped, groaning as his thrusts turned sharp and frantic. “Fuck… I’m gonna cum.”
You looked up at him through wet lashes. His usually neat hair had fallen forward, dark strands messy and sticking to his forehead, hanging into his eyes. He looked completely undone.
“Shit—fuck,” Tim cursed sharply.
He pulled his cock out of your throat in one smooth motion. You gasped in wet, raw breaths, your chest heaving as fresh air finally rushed back into your lungs. Before you could even steady yourself, his thumb tugged your bottom lip down, holding your mouth wide open for him.
He pressed the swollen, leaking tip of his cock right against your tongue and started stroking himself in fast, frantic strokes. His body shook with how close he was.
You whined loudly around him, the desperate sound vibrating against his tip as you looked up at him with teary, needy eyes, silently begging the best you could.
That did it.
Tim practically growled when he came.
Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled across your tongue and flooded your open mouth. He kept stroking himself through it, gritting his teeth hard to stay quiet, his shoulders shaking as pulse after heavy pulse poured over your tongue. You moaned, the taste so satisfying and evidence of your hard work.
“Ah, God… swallow it all,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Swallow what I give you.”
Even as he came, he kept his thumb hooked in the bottom of your mouth, holding you open so he could watch every rope land on your tongue. His whole body trembled with the force of it, his hips twitching as the last few weak spurts dribbled onto your lips.
“Christ.”
When the last of his release had spilled across your tongue, you closed your lips around the sensitive head of his cock and gently sucked.
Tim’s hips twitching at the overstimulation. “Mmnh… you’re gonna kill me.”
You pulled off, then swallowed, feeling the warmth of him slide down your throat. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, so salty and warm.
Exhausted, you slumped down, your chest heaving as you dragged in deep, full breaths. Your head was still spinning, and you could feel the mess of yourself, all the spit and tears drying on your face. You lifted a hand to wipe at your chin, but Tim caught your wrist and swatted it away.
“I got it,” he muttered.
He slid down the wall, his back pressed to the wood as he tucked himself back into his boxers and jeans, quickly fixing his belt. Then he leaned forward, using his rough hands to haphazardly clean the mess from your cheeks and chin. When he was satisfied, he wrapped his hand around your arm and tugged you forward to turn your back against the wall too, your shoulders leaned against the other’s. The warmth of his body grounded you amongst all the haze.
For the first time you could hear it over the rush in your head, the party was still kicking inside, random yelling and loud music still evident against the quiet out here now.
“You okay?”
You looked over at Tim, whose face was the picture of exhaustion, mental and physical. You nodded, bumping your shoulder against his playfully.
He watched you for another second, then turned his head to stare out through the porch rails into the dark woods. The crickets kept chirping like nothing had happened.
“I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he muttered. “Not out here.”
You let out a tired laugh, leaning your head back against the wall.
“You’re dumb if you couldn’t tell how badly I wanted it,” you said, your voice a lot more hoarse than it had started. “I’m more disappointed you didn’t pull something like that sooner. You clearly wanted it, too.”
Tim quietly chuckled, a bit of light breaking through that dark stormcloud that always hovered above his head. For a moment the two of you just sat there, catching your breath and relaxing again. Then you both turned at the same time, your eyes meeting together. You leaned in slowly, and he did the same, faces drawing closer until your lips were barely a breath apart—
“Whoops.”
You both snapped your heads toward the voice.
Brian stood a few feet away, looking mildly awkward but mostly amused, three open beers clutched between his fingers. He was trying and failing to hide the smirk on his face.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked, tone far too innocent.
Tim let out a long, exhausted sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “C’mon, man.”
Brian stepped closer anyway and handed over two of the beers. Tim took them, passing one straight to you without a word. You accepted it gratefully and took a big, long drink. The cold, bitter liquid felt like heaven on your raw throat.
“Toby had a whole stash under his bed,” Brian explained, leaning against the railing across from you. “Party’s kinda revived itself since you two disappeared. People are doing chugging contests again.”
He took a sip of his own beer, eyes flicking between the two of you with barely-hidden amusement.
“So… had a good time mingling?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tim shot him a flat look. “How much did you hear?”
Brian shrugged, the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just guarding the door like a responsible friend looking out for his pals.”
You nearly choked on your beer. Tim just shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he took a long drink from his own bottle.
The three of you sat there for a moment in surprisingly comfortable silence, the distant chaos of the party drifting through the walls while the cool night air brushed over your heated skin and wore off the strain. Brian’s smirk never quite went away, but he didn’t push it.
Tim’s shoulder, however, stayed pressed right against yours.
Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!
✧ hockeyplayer!chris x figureskater!reader, friends to lovers, dom!chris, mutual pining, stimulation, unprotected sex
✧ summary: you’re a figure skater. chris sturniolo is a hockey player. you meet every day at the same rink, and what starts as passing conversations after practice turns into him staying longer than he should—and you letting him.
✧ word count: 1.8k
✧ authors note: based on this request! (if you saw this posted earlier #sorry it was an accident...)
you'd spent years around ice rinks.
which meant you'd spent years around hockey players. loud hockey players. cocky hockey players.
hockey players who thought they owned every rink they stepped into.
so when chris first started hanging around after your practices, you told yourself he was no different.
that explanation lasted about a week. because unfortunately, chris was annoying in a completely different way.
for one thing, he was impossible to ignore.
you could always tell when he'd gotten to the rink because there'd be a burst of laughter from somewhere down the hallway. the sound of hockey bags hitting the floor. a coach yelling at someone.
and then eventually chris would appear usually carrying his stick over one shoulder, his hair messy from shoving a hat on and off.
looking unfairly good for someone who spent half his life getting slammed into walls.
it was irritating.
especially because he seemed completely unaware of it. or maybe he was aware. that possibility was honestly worse.
you were adjusting your skate guards one afternoon when you noticed him on the ice.
his team had practice after yours, and your coach was busy talking to someone, leaving you stuck waiting by the boards.
normally you would've been checking your phone. instead, you found yourself watching.
just for a second.
hockey looked chaotic compared to figure skating. figure skating was precision. timing. control.
hockey looked like organized violence.
yet somehow chris moved through it effortlessly fast. confident. comfortable.
like he'd been born with skates on.
he caught a pass, cut sharply across the ice, and sent the puck into the net. one of his teammates yelled something. chris immediately pointed at himself.
show off.
you rolled your eyes.
he looked toward the boards at that exact moment.
and caught you watching. your stomach dropped as his grin appeared instantly.
great.
just great.
later, after practice, he found you sitting on the bench unlacing your skates.
"see something you liked?" you nearly threw a skate at him.
"your ego is unbelievable."
"that's not a no."
you laughed despite yourself which only encouraged him.
"you watched almost my whole practice."
"i was literally waiting for my coach."
"for forty minutes?"
"don't make this weird."
"i'm making this weird?"
he looked entirely too pleased with himself and you hated it.
mostly because he looked cute when he smiled. which was a problem. a serious problem.
the kind of problem that got worse every day.
because somehow every conversation with him lasted longer than the last one.
what started as five-minute conversations became twenty.
then thirty.
then suddenly you were sitting in empty arenas talking long after everyone else had gone home.
learning things about each other without meaning to.
he knew your competition schedule. you knew which teams he hated playing. he knew which jumps stressed you out. you knew he always got nervous before big games no matter how much he denied it.
and somewhere in between all of that, things changed.
the way his eyes lingered a second too long.
the way your heart sped up whenever he walked into a room.
the way both of you started finding excuses to stay.
one night, practice ran especially late.
most of the rink lights had already been turned off by the time you stepped off the ice.
your legs ached, your hair was a mess, and you were exhausted.
chris was sitting in the stands waiting. again.
you weren't even surprised anymore.
"do you actually have a life?" you asked.
he stood up, a smirk spreading across his face. "rude."
"i'm serious."
"i am too."
you laughed softly and he smiled.
and for some reason your chest felt tight. he started walking down toward the boards, not breaking eye contact.
your pulse immediately betrayed you.
"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked.
"like what?"
"you know exactly what."
his grin returned for a second, then faded. replaced by something softer. something that made your stomach flip. "maybe i'm just looking at you."
the answer should've been simple.
it wasn't.
the rink felt quieter, smaller. suddenly you were aware of everything.
the cold air. the distance between you. the fact that neither of you seemed interested in moving away.
for once, chris didn't have a joke ready. for once, neither did you.
"you know," he said quietly, "you're a lot harder to talk to when you're looking at me like that."
your breath caught.
"i wasn't aware i was."
"trust me."
his smile returned, smaller now.
warmer.
"you are."
and neither of you looked away.
the silence stretched. heavy. neither of you moved.
chris took another step down the bleachers.
metal echoed in the empty arena. each sound hit your chest like a drum.
he reached the bottom row. eye level now. close enough to see the flush on his cheeks.
"you gonna make me do all the work here?" he asked. voice low. rougher than usual.
"depends on what you're offering."
shit, that came out breathier than you'd meant. his eyes darkened. he hopped down, landing soft on the rubber in front of you.
"you're shaking," he noticed.
"cold."
his hand lifted, hesitant in a way you'd never seen from him. his fingertips brushed your jaw.
warm and calloused from sticks and tape and fights in the corners. you leaned into it without meaning to. his thumb traced your cheekbone.
"still cold?"
you couldn't answer. his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer by inches.
your hands ended up on his chest, feeling his hard muscle beneath his jersey. his heart hammered against your palm, matching yours.
"tell me to stop," he said. "and i will."
you didn't.
instead you tilted your face up. his mouth found yours and months of teasing snapped between you.
he tasted like mint and desperation. his hand slid to your lower back. pressed you flush against him. you gasped into his mouth when you felt how hard he was through his pants.
the thin fabric did nothing to hide it. the knowledge that it was you doing that to him made your head spin.
"fuck," he breathed against your lips. "you have no idea how long—"
"show me."
he made a sound. wrecked. walked you back until your shoulder blades hit the boards.
freezing cold at your back. burning everywhere else. the contrast made you gasp.
he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss. tongue slid against yours. hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. you hoped it did.
you could feel him now. grinding against your stomach as he pinned you there. the smell of ice and rubber and his cologne surrounded you.
"here?" he asked. mouth hot against your neck. teeth grazed the tendon there. he bit down and sucked.
"nobody's here," you managed. arched into him. desperate for friction. "lights are—"
"anyone could walk in."
his hand slipped under your jacket. under your top. rough palm slid up your ribs. and his thumb brushed under your nipple. you moaned. loud. embarrassing in the silence. he laughed. actually laughed. breathless against your skin.
"that sound," he said. "i've been imagining that sound for months."
"shut up."
you grabbed his face and kissed him aggressive. demanding. trying to take back some control. he let you for a second. let you bite his lower lip. then he responded by lifting you, just high enough to wrap your legs around his waist.
he held you there, pressed between the boards and his body, grinding up with a rhythm that made your vision blur. the friction was perfect.
you were whimpering now. couldn't help it. the sounds fell out of you every time he rolled his hips just right.
"tell me what you want," he demanded. ragged. voice shot. "exactly—"
"want you inside," you said. not caring how desperate. voice broke. "chris, i swear to god—"
he went still. pulled back enough to look at you. eyes blown wide. "you sure? here?"
"now," you begged. "please. need you."
he groaned. the sound vibrated through his chest into yours. he set you down. hands shook as he dragged your leggings down. you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. then he was unzipping his own pants, shoving them down just enough. he was heavy in his hand. flushed and leaking at the tip. he stroked himself once. twice. all while watching your face with blown out eyes.
"come here," he said. voice rough. broken.
you went to him. he lifted you again and your back hit the boards again. it was cold, but then he was there, pressing against your entrance. not pushing in yet. just rubbing through your wetness. teasing. making you whine.
"chris," you gasped. "please. don't make me wai—"
"shh," he soothed. but his voice was wrecked. "i got you. i got you."
he pushed in. slow. so slow you felt every inch. your head fell back and hit the boards. he was big, stretching you, burning in the best way. he groaned and the sound echoed off the rafters. he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, panting.
"fuck," he choked out. "fuck, you're tight. feel so good. been thinking about this. thinking about you."
"please," you begged. "please chris."
he pulled out. slid back in. found a rhythm. shallow at first, then deeper, harder. the boards rattled behind you with every thrust. he was making noise now, grunts and groans falling out of him every time he bottomed out. he sounded ruined and desperate.
"you feel that?" he asked. strained. "feel how much i want you?"
"yes," you sobbed. "yes, i feel it. don't stop. don't—"
he shifted his grip. hit a new angle. you cried out. he did it again. again. chasing that spot. his hand moved between you. he found your clit and rubbed circles there while he fucked you against the boards. sloppy. desperate. the sounds of skin meeting skin filled the empty rink.
"gonna—" he warned. "fuck. i'm close. you're squeezing me. so good. so-"
"come inside," you begged. "want to feel it. chris. please."
he groaned and thrusted deep, staying there. you felt him pulse, hot, spilling into you. he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking around him. he worked his hand faster between you.
you came with his name on your lips, shaking against him as he held you up while making these broken sounds into your neck. little whimpers. like he couldn't process how good it was.
when you finally opened your eyes he was staring at you. pupils blown. hair a disaster. cheeks flushed. chest heaving.
"that," he said. rough. wrecked. "that was worth every single week of waiting."
you laughed, breathless and giddy. you pulled him down for another kiss, slower this time, deeper. you could still feel him inside you, twitching and getting soft. neither of you moved to separate.
"we're gonna get caught," you mumbled against his mouth.
"worth it," he said. "you're worth it."
he stayed there. held you up. traced patterns on your back through your jacket lazily.
fwb!chris, smut, sexual content, dry humping/grinding, no actual sex, smoking, usage of weed, kissing/making out, shotgunning, pet names, cumming in pants, swearing, kinda sub-ish chris? (not proofread)
smoke drifts lazily between you and chris, encasing you in a metaphorical and literal hazy cloud. your thighs rest either side of his hips, bracketing them.
you take hit of the blunt you’ve been passing back and forth for the past ten minutes before connecting your lips to chris’s in a high, sensual kiss, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.
“mmfph—fuck.” he groans against your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip, playfully tugging it.
you break the kiss to trail wet, sloppy kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, sucking on the skin, making sure to leave a mark.
“shiit angel, fuckin’ possessive today huh?” his voice comes out in a low rasp, indicating how turned on he is. although you don’t need any other signals when you can clearly feel his growing bulge against pressing up against you through your jeans.
your lips leave his neck and return to his own—as he takes another drag of the blunt, and this time exhales into into your mouth with a soft, pleasured sound.
your hands slide from the back of his neck to thread through his hair, tugging lightly to provoke a reaction from him. you’re pleased when he lets out a stifled sharp intake of breath, clearly enjoying your manicured nails scratching his scalp and tangling in his dark curls.
the kiss becomes more heated, and soon you two are lost in the moment. the blunt lays forgotten on his bedside table, having already done its job. his dick twitches beneath you, causing your hips to roll forward on instinct.
the friction of his jeans through your thin cotton shorts is perfect, dragging just right. so you do it again, this time with more purpose. he groans into your mouth, hands trailing down your sides to grip your hips, grinding you down on him. you form a slow, sensual rhythm, stimulating you both as your lips locking continue to be the only noise in his dim, weed-smelling room.
chris swears under his breath as his dick jumps from beneath the denim. “shi—shit,” he says breathily. his hips buck to meet yours, creating a more intense feeling that makes you gasp when the seam of his jeans catches on your clothed clit.
“fuck, keep doin’ that.” he pants into your mouth, grinding his hips up so you two are moving in tandem now, synchronised in your pleasure.
you begin to feel your release coiling low in your belly almost embarrassingly fast. maybe it’s the weed in your system, but everything feels heightened, hypersensitive.
you can tell chris is close too, by the way his low groans have shifted into soft, muffled whimpers and shaky breaths.
your movements become slightly more desperate as you grind and rut your hips against his clothed dick, chasing the delicious friction.
you’re sure your panties must be soaked through from how worked up you are—something that chris’ll definitely tease you about later.
the pleasure mounts and you cum with a soft cry, burying your face in his shoulder as chris cums too, his hips lifting and pressing into yours to rub his cock against you through his orgasm.
the air stills, and the only noises left in chris’s bedroom are your shared shallow pants.
“shit.” you look down at the mess between you, seeing that you’ve soaked his jeans. “sorry.” you say, slightly amused.
“all that from just grindin’ on my dick?” chris teases, nipping at your jaw playfully. “oh fuck off.” you prod him, rolling your eyes.
“you’re acting like you didn’t just cum in your pants.”
💌 freya yaps . . . #needthat #wantthat #cravethat
comment under this or this post to be added to my taglist.
ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ bsf!chris ⋆ sexual tension ⋆ light banter ⋆ making out ⋆ dryhumping ⋆ cumming in pants ⋆ fluff + more.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕... being best friends meant you were off-limits, but chris couldn’t help himself from posting sexy stories on his instagram, hoping you’d see them. he never realized just how much he affected you—until now.
Chris has been looking at the many pictures he’d taken today while out, his hair still damp and messy, stubble coming in already. He’s searching for the perfect photo to put on his story—a photo that’d maybe make you think he’s hot after all.
It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he does it anyway.
He keeps opening instagram, trying to see if you’ve viewed his story yet. And when he sees your profile picture and name among the thousands of people, with a small heart in the bottom right corner of your picture (indicating you’ve liked it), his heart skips a beat before it begins to beat like he’d run a marathon.
When he sees a notification pop up from you, he almost drops his phone, trying to seem calm and collected as he texts back.
You smile to yourself, already halfway done getting ready. It’s not like you really expect anything more from Chris, knowing how he is about relationships, and also not wanting to feel crushed if he ever rejected you. But you still spray on your favorite perfume—the one he said smelled good.
Meanwhile, Chris is freaking out. He can’t believe you’re coming in an hour. He hasn’t prepared his heart yet! He needs to get himself together but the idea of watching movies with you while possibly cuddling on his bed—or sofa—is doing weird things to his heart and brain... and dick. He hopes his dick won’t act up when you’re here.
But it’s almost as if his dick’s got a mind of its own-
Enough of that, he should be focusing on cleaning up his room, making sure his bed is clean and everything is perfect. God, you never fail to make him feel like some stereotypical teenage girl with a crush. It’s honestly kind of embarrassing. But with you, he’s willing to swallow his pride.
"So... What do you wanna watch?" Chris sits beside you on his sofa, arm slung around the back of it, his knuckles brushing against your arm casually, the remote in his grip. He’s aimlessly scrolling through the different catalogs of movies displayed on his TV screen, trying to act casual despite the way his stomach is doing somersaults at your proximity and how good you smell.
"Let’s watch something scary," you suggest, eyeing his other hand that’s holding a can of Pepsi. Without thinking too much of it, you grab his wrist and pull his hand towards your mouth, taking a sip from his drink.
"Hey-" Chris laughs, pushing you away lightly in a playful manner. "You have your own drink."
"Yours is tastier." You shrug, as if that makes any sense considering your drink is also a can of Pepsi identical to his.
"Whatever." Chris rolls his eyes with a sarcastic mutter under his breath and leans back, taking a sip from his soda.
As you snatch the remote from his hand, saying he was taking too long to pick a movie, Chris realizes he basically just kissed you—indirectly—because your lips touched the opening of the can when you took a sip.
So he takes another big gulp from his drink, lips twitching at the corners. He wonders if your lips taste as sweet as the Pepsi he’s drinking-
"What’re you thinking about, all zoned out?" You tease, leaning closer.
Chris almost chokes on the carbonated drink in his mouth, quickly gulping it down as he leans back instinctively. "Nothing. Just- Oh! You picked the movie already? Nice."
God, why is he talking like that???
A soft flush creeps up his neck as he realizes how damn nervous he sounds all of a sudden. He’s usually always nervous around you but he’s great at masking it, making sure his face and voice never gives away how he’s feeling on the inside.
But something about you today, it’s driving him crazy.
Maybe it’s the way you’re acting, all teasing and zero personal space; Or maybe it’s the way you’re dressed today, wearing a shirt with such a loose and low neckline he can basically see your tits if he glanced down it, and pj pants you borrowed from him that shows your curves so well.
Fuck, he wishes he could slap that perfect ass while you-
"Dude, you’re really getting in your head so much today." You tilt your head, confused and maybe a little concerned behind all the teasing. "You okay?"
Chris nods, maybe too quickly. "Yeah, yeah- okay. I’m okay."
His fast but unfocused reply causes you to blink, confused. "Uh, okay. Good."
He almost breathes out a sigh of relief but chooses to keep his gaze on the movie instead, hoping you won’t notice the flush beginning to adorn his pale cheeks—and the way he’s starting to fidget a little more, although subtly.
And it’s not like he would usually get a hard-on with you simply sitting beside him, since he’s used to your presence-
Well, that would be the case if your hand wasn’t half-rested on his thigh right now. He can see you through his peripheral vision and you’re completely focused on the movie, unaware of where your hand is and what it’s doing to him.
Clearing his throat, he shifts ever so slightly. Wrong move. His breath hitches in his throat when your pinky accidentally brushes against his growing bulge when he moves. The sensation nearly makes him jolt, a soft groan getting swallowed down thickly in order not to alert you of what’s happening to him.
Fuck, why did he decide to go commando in sweat shorts???
The fabric is thin enough that he can feel the warmth of your hand against his thigh, and it’s driving him crazy with need. He’s so sure his pupils are huge right now, cheeks probably embarrassingly flushed. He’s taking deep breaths to calm himself, trying to think of anything to get rid of his boner.
But, of course, nothing’s working. Just his damn luck.
You suddenly freeze, and Chris’s heart nearly jumps out of his throat when he sees you slowly looking down at his lap where your hand is almost touching a tented spot on the front of his sweat shorts. The imprint his hard dick is leaving on one side of his shorts is actually insane and you barely keep your jaw from dropping.
When you look up at his face, you realize he’s already staring at you, in a way that makes your stomach do all types of gymnastic tricks, that familiar feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. You can clearly see his pupils taking over most of his irises, showing just how turned on he is right now.
"Chris, you-"
"Don’t. Don’t mention it."
He’s obviously mortified you found out—maybe a tad bit more turned on than before now that you know what kind of effect you have on him—but very much wishing the sofa would swallow him whole right now.
You’re quiet for a moment, your shocked expression turning unreadable—and that makes Chris’s heart pound against his chest. Are you going to push him away? Tell him how disgusting he is? Never talk to him again?
"Do you... need help with... it?"
Okay- Woah. What- That isn’t what he expected.
Chris is just staring at you, blinking slowly like his brain is struggling to comprehend what just came out of your mouth—like you’ve spoken a foreign language he’d never heard of before. His silence is starting to make you nervous, too, but before you could backpedal, he speaks.
"You serious?"
Your heart skips a beat at the slight hoarseness of his voice, how his Adam’s apple is bobbing as he swallows thickly, eyes slightly wide—almost disbelieving—as he looks at you like you’d just told him something crazy. Which you kind of did.
"Yeah... I mean, if you want to-"
"I do- I want to. I mean, if you want to-"
A beat of silence stretched between you two after his stammered reply. The absurdity of this situation is almost laughable, and you’d have laughed if it weren’t for the heavy tension in the air.
Before you know it, his lips are already on yours, a little clumsy due to how nervous he is. Fuck, he’s never this nervous when he’d hooked up with other girls. It’s like you bring out the shy, boyish side of him without even trying.
"Sorry- Fuck-" He mumbles breathlessly against your lips as he accidentally knocks his teeth lightly against yours, lips chasing after yours when you tried to pull away for breath.
You climb onto his lap before you can think it through, thighs bracketing his hips, clothed core aligned with his chubbed crotch. His dick is so hard and needy that you can feel it twitching under you as you settle on his lap, pressing your weight down on it.
"Oh- Okay- Shit, you’re gonna... Fuck..." He breathes out, babbling nonsense, as his hands find your hips, gripping them firmly in his hands like he’s afraid you’d get up.
He’s barely keeping his hips from jerking up as he feels your weight on his throbbing cock, the warmth from your core making him bite back a groan. He’s looking up at you like you hold the answer to the universe as his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips.
You wordlessly lean down and kiss him again, your hips giving an experimental roll against his and feeling his breath hitch into your mouth. His hands tighten on your hips in response, fingers digging into your flesh, as he feels himself slowly unravel under your touch.
Chris wouldn’t call himself a submissive guy in bed, but something about you taking control like this is making him melt.
His lips move against yours greedily, tongue tangling with each other, spit being exchanged without a second thought. His hips begin moving in sync with yours, grinding up into your core, your clothes giving delicious friction.
"Wait- I might... I think I might come just from this—mmhn—y’gotta slow down- ffuuck--" Chris groans into your mouth when your hips pick up pace, grinding against him in a fast but steady rhythm.
"Can’t stop... feels too good," you mumble against his lips, a soft whimper vibrating against his lips as you rub your clothed pussy against his rock hard bulge. You desperately chase the tension coiling deep in your gut, wanting to feel that familiar burst of euphoric pleasure.
"Oh- Fuck--" Chris moans, his head falling back against the wall behind his sofa with a soft thud, eyelids fluttering before he squeezes them shut, lips parted. "Seriously- I’m gonna cum."
"Me too—fuck—me too--" Your movements are jerky before you realize it, hips desperate and uncoordinated. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders, eyes locked onto his heavy-lidded ones as you begin to feel the bands in your stomach slowly snap, white-hot pleasure coursing through your body.
The realization that you’re coming just from grinding on his hardened cock through his pants is enough for Chris to follow you into those blissful waves of pleasure. His hips jerks against yours, grunts and groans filling the room along with your moans as you both ride out your highs together.
As you slump forward and onto him, his hands leave your hips to wrap around your waist instead, dick still throbbing inside his shorts, a wet patch already forming from his hot cum. He’s not letting go of you at all, arms like iron bands around your middle, face buried in your shoulder.
He’s suddenly embarrassed at the fact that he came inside his pants like some teenager—something he’s never done before. And he doesn’t want you to see the painfully noticeable wet spot on his shorts.
But he can’t obviously hide something so visible.
"Oh...!" You gasp softly at the wetness that’s transferred onto your pants from his, and your eyes immediately glitter with amusement and mischief. "You made me so wet."
The innuendo behind your words isn’t lost on him and his cheeks grow hotter as he huffs softly. "Yeah, and you enjoyed it."
"Next time, let’s do it for real." You say as you both lay in bed that night, facing each other in the darkness. You can hear his breath hitch, barely audible but still loud enough to make your stomach flip.
Chris’s voice is breathless when he speaks, like your casual words knocked the wind out of his lungs—in a good way, in a way that’s got him bricked up. "Yeah..."
isa’s rambling ۶ৎ well, you see... he posted this pic on his story and i gasped and i just knew i had to write something ’cause he’s a slut and a sick fuck :) idk if i’ll do a part two, but dryhumping is enough you freaks (i was too lazy to write more)
you know, i would try roleplaying. i would. but that shit is so scary. what’s even crazier is back 7 or so years ago, i role-played all the time. i thought i grew out of it (and i did) with some fandoms. but hannibal? hannibal lecter? i want a lore accurate hannibal. not one based off pleasantries and aesthetics.
i’d be the one to start off like this: “Hannibal Lecter. The Hannibal Lecter at my door.” Yeah, my door. As in, why are you here? At my home? What do you want? Need? Why am I questioning your existence? Yes. That’s the point.
I don’t want a romcom. I don’t need a romcom. I need someone who can keep up with tension. Actual tension. He is a psychiatrist. He, as a manipulative psychiatrist, would love the psychological pull more than someone being attracted to his identity. That’s my take.
I am someone who lacks control in many ways. That way would be my thinking process. I don’t spiral normally. I spiral analytically. And who would enjoy that? Hannibal the Cannibal.
By God, someone give me that enjoyment. Or that man. I would fight that man. I, as a female, would manhandle that man. thank you for your time <3
(doesn’t mean i’ll start roleplaying cause tbh, idk yet. i’m just saying. stating 😭).
Warnings: +18 content, dark content manipulation, obsession, unhealthy relationships, many kinks, all characters in this work are protrayed as 18 or older.
Characters: Michael Myers, Chucky, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, Vincent Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Leatherface, Art The Clown, Jason Dean, Alex DeLarge, Kurt Kunkle, Sweetly Slasher, Brahms.
Michael Myers
I've already said in my previous headcanons that I don't consider Michael Myers to be really interested in sex. However, if you manage to catch his attention, he would be inclined to:
Hunter/Prey: This one is too obvious, isn't it? It would certainly keep its essence if that primary desire for you was awakened. Chasing and killing is something that fascinates him enormously. But since he saw you running away from him, eager for him to catch you... the feeling of pleasure went straight to his cock. Seeing you so vulnerable and innocent before him is a sight that always makes him get hard in his pants. He chases you walking calmly. Just one push is enough to immobilize you.
Corruption: Another way to awaken his sexual appetite is to be the perfect prey to corrupt. Both sexually and mentally. He would like everyone to know that you are no longer as innocent as you were at the beginning. That your skin has the name of Michael Myers marked forever.
Knife Play: A must. He will do everything to you with his knife. He'll make marks on you, both superficial and not so superficial. He'll write things on your skin, like his name. He'll be violent and brutal. Your skin will be scarred. He loves to watch you fall apart in pain and pleasure. It's a show no one else could give him.
Chucky
He doesn't actually have as many kinks as you might think. He's a man of simple tastes…
Lingerie: Coming home and seeing you in lingerie is a surprise that will never bore him. Like I said, he's a simple man. Do that, don't tease him too much and you'll have him. It's that simple. He's on top of you in an instant, he won't listen to you if you tell him not to touch him and shit like that. He doesn't listen to anyone and he'll take what he wants.
Lap dances: Literally canonical. Sit him down and do a nice lap dance for him. He'll be mesmerized by your moves. He'll have a mischievous smile the whole time. His eyes will sparkle with lust. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer. Also, it could work pretty well to make him jealous on purpose. He'll be aggressive with you back and it'll be rough sex.
Praise Kink: Praise him. Seriously. Do it. It'll boost his ego and he might give you a compliment back, telling you what a good girl you're being for him and that you're the best he could ever have. Give him your best compliments and he'll do it right back. He'll tell you that you're the best he's ever had and that he can never replace you and shit. I'm not saying he's lying, but let's just say he'll exaggerate his compliments because he's too turned on not to tell you what you want to hear.
Billy Loomis
Roleplay: The best roleplay here will be ghostface and his victim. He gets a huge turn on from seeing you in that vulnerable state, acting like a dumb girl who needs help. Every time he sees you like that he can't stand it. He needs to take out his violent frustrations on you. It's irresistible. Sometimes he won't even tell you it's role-playing, he wants you to believe he's genuinely considering harming you, it's kind of twisted. But you already knew that.
Cream-pie: He won't use a condom, he wants it to be just risky enough. He needs to fill you completely with his seed and see for a second the fear in your eyes. He will never give that up. He needs to mark you over and over again with his semen. He'll tell you how no one will love you if they know all the dirty things you've done for him.
Dirty talk: He'll tell you the worst things you'll ever hear. He'll threaten to kill you and say he won't if you agree to be his good bitch. He'll tell you all the things he could do to you while showing you his knife. He wants you to feel degraded and unable to help the pain building in your chest and the excitement you're experiencing in your crotch. He'll make fun of how turned on you are and increase the level of his insults.
Stu Macher
Threesome: At some point they'll have a threesome with Billy. It's guaranteed. He'll like watching you fuck and destroy you. The feeling of power they have over you drives him crazy. Being completely willing to him and his desires. It's all he's ever wanted. Billy, on the other hand, also likes to be in control of everything. So having you will be just another example of that. They both treat you like you're their whore, so your opinion doesn't matter much when it comes to what they do. Your moans are the only thing they care about.
Voyeurism: Watching you masturbate is something he'll do often. There will be days when you won't even notice he's there, watching you. But he'll be there. He'll leave minutes after you reach your orgasm. He likes the feeling of watching and being absolutely crazy to touch you and not always being able to. Torturously wonderful.
Phone sex: Every day before he makes his appearance as ghostface he tries to call you and say dirty things to you over the phone. He uses his voice changer. Things get hot quickly. When you ask him to go finish what he started, he just hangs up. He doesn't have time for that. He wants to leave you wanting and make you beg for him once he comes to visit you. He expects nothing less.
Patrick Bateman
Humiliation: He loves anything that involves humiliating you while he is in a position of superiority over you. It turns him on that you feel embarrassed and want to keep pleasing him even though he is fucking cruel to you. He will probably make you lick his shoes or make you cum on them. He might threaten you in your ear while they are doing it.
Master/Slave: This goes hand in hand with the previous kink. He will make you kneel before him and do everything he tells you. This could be extrapolated outside the bedroom to be honest, he is very controlling. You will always have to treat him with respect and he will punish you harshly if you reveal against him or make him feel that you have some discontent. His wishes are his command and he could openly express your position in the relationship in front of others.
Mirror sex: I suppose this does not surprise you. If he has a long-term relationship with you, he will not only enjoy seeing himself, but he will like seeing you too. It's a kind of pleasure that's been building up with you. It's become addictive to see your faces in the mirror, watching your body crumble under his touches and thrusts. He just can't get enough.
Hannibal
Discipline: I firmly believe that Hannibal will start to show his sexual kinks if he has control over you. At first, he will be totally vanilla and show no hint of wanting anything more. Later, after a while and he can see the obedience you show him, he will start punishing you sexually on certain occasions. He will discipline you in ways that will hurt. He will like to see how you change your behaviors when you feel pain. It's a good show for him.
Threesome: This one comes up again, because...he would have a threesome with Will Graham. It's so terribly obvious that it didn't even need to be put in. But it could become a recurring fantasy and something he would do more than once. The perversion, darkness, and secrets you share with each other would make him terribly hard. Having control of both of you really turns his sexual desire up. Not that you're complaining.
Begging: You have to beg him. Seriously, do it. It doesn't matter how committed you are to this. Do it. He'll like it when you get into an inferior position. If you're crying out in pleasure and need his help to have your orgasm, it'll be a nice image for him. If you're being bratty and pretending to beg him to get in the mood, he'll oblige (after disciplining you, of course).
Vincent Sinclair
Wax play: Another one that was awfully obvious. He'll blindfold you and drip hot wax over your body. Your shaky sighs of pain and pleasure will drive him crazy, but he's a patient man, he'll wait until he's satisfied and take his time, as it's the best thing he's done in a long period. He'll caress your thighs while you suppress a slight moan of pain. It's his way of comforting you, but he won't let you off the hook.
Vouyerism: He'll appreciate you lying naked while he's doing his job. He'll get distracted a few times by you, but he won't do anything until he's done. He likes to have a little desperation for you. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen in his life, the most beautiful. And that is already a huge compliment coming from him. He wants your figure to always be in his memory. And he will keep you as long as he can.
Breeding kink: He wants to keep you and he is too excited by the idea of getting you pregnant. He wants you to stay with him forever and not be able to escape from him. If he gets you pregnant, he will never have insecurities about it again and he could be with you and have you all to himself all the time. The orgasm is very strong when he paints your walls white and sees his cum coming out of you.
Jason Voorhees
Blowjob: At first, he would feel quite guilty while seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his penis. Afterwards, he would get used to it, but he would simply make you decide the pace. He would feel quite lustful and dirty if he makes you choke on his cock. He feels bad when he knows it would turn him on too much to ever do it…
Lap-dancing: His body will respond on its own when he sees your hips moving on him to the music. He will soon discover that he cannot resist you. It is impossible. His hands will grab your waist and he will squeeze it tightly. It will be very easy for him to grab you and drag you to the bed. You know it is the easiest way to provoke him, he will never be able to resist your half naked body on top of him, teasing you, without caring at all. He might think badly of you at first, but that feeling is replaced by the inevitable guilty desire. Which makes you irresistible.
Mutual masturbation: This is the best way to give body worship. He will do his best to give you pleasure and you will hear his grunts when you give him pleasure. He will become so desperate that he will want to hear your moan of orgasmic pleasure quickly. He lives to see your body tremble for him, begging him to make you cum.
Leatherface
Praise kink: He needs to be praised by you. Feeling that he is important to you and that you look at him with eyes of desire will always get him going. Praise how strong he is, how well he takes care of you, how safe you feel with him. Tell him those things and he will be around your finger. You don't need anything else.
Vouyerism: He will watch you while you touch yourself. At all times. Sometimes he will demand that you touch yourself in front of him, other times he will watch you secretly. He will like to see your fluids on your fingers and will be hypnotized by the sight of your wet and hot intimacy. He will want to enter but he doesn't want you to see him as a total pervert. He prefers to stay with the desire. At least at first. Afterwards, he will be more shameless.
Blood play: He likes blood, so it is not unusual for him to get excited seeing the blood of victims on you. You will have sex while both have their clothes and bodies stained with blood. If you ever felt shy or guilty about what they do, it quickly goes away. You're likely to be absolutely shameless afterwards. The kink quickly becomes routine, he's practically always covered in blood and will act on his impulses at a moment's notice.
Art The Clown
If I'm honest, I could have written something worse.
Free use: He'll use you at any time. In front of victims, at the mall, at a bar. Obviously he won't ask and he won't stop in case you're embarrassed or don't want to. You're his toy and the maximum compassion he'll have towards you will be to leave you alive. So, thank him. Thank him while Vicky mocks you for being a bitch. Thank him while the man dressed as Santa looks at you in horror. Thank him while you're being thrown out of that Halloween store forever. Just... thank him, okay?
Glory Hole: Obviously only he will be able to fuck you. He likes to remind both you and himself that you're just a hole for him. He'll fuck you and make cuts on your legs, making you understand that he could kill you at any time and that, in fact, it would be quite painful for you. He likes to hear your crying and how you try to escape. You're just so good at satisfying him.
Forced orgasm: He'll use toys to make you cry. You'll be on the verge of overstimulation, to the point that you can't fully control or enjoy the forced pleasure he's giving you. According to him, things aren't all that good without deep pain. So, watching you beg for him to stop is the best thing you can give him at that moment.
Jason Dean
Gun play/Gun kink: Another one that's obvious. He'll use his gun as both a show of power and a sex toy. You might see him threaten you with his gun too if you've upset him. He'll tell you that he owns you and that's why he has all of you in his hands. It's a psychological game that he loves. If you're submissive, you'll practically be drooling at his power. If that's the case, he'll become more obsessed with you.
Hunter/Prey: He's fucking good at hunting. It's a twisted game that he'll repeat over and over. It'll be much better if you use the safe word as little as possible. He'll give you time to escape and he'll play psychological games with you, saying scathing words and phrases to you. He'll find you every time and take what's coming to him. You might get too dirty if he wants to play it out in a forest.
Exhibitionism: He'll definitely fuck you before he ends someone's life. He'll do it in front of them and put on the best show. It's much better if the person watching you is attracted to you. That scenario is the one he likes the most. It's addictive for him to humiliate someone who can never have you. It's one of his many twisted fantasies.
Alex DeLarge
If I'm honest, I could have written something worse x2. Let's see, it's clear what his kinks are; among them, there is noncon. But in my analysis I doubt he does this to his partner, but this is not out of respect or anything like that, the real reason is that he needs to keep you by his side and for you to see him as your leader willingly and to follow his wishes always. For that, he needs to avoid you hating him. Therefore, he will not force you. The only scenario in which I see him doing this is if he no longer wants anything with you and needs to end the relationship somehow or you rebel against him like his droogs did. That said, his kinks:
Gangbang: Yes, he is a possessive man and all that. But, listen, give me a chance. He, at the beginning of meeting you, will not be attached to you enough to prevent this perversion from coming to light. I definitely see him being a jerk and he will definitely tell you that to enter his group you will have to sleep with everyone. I can see this happening in the first few months. Obviously none of them are detail-oriented or anything like that. Afterwards, when Alex becomes attached to you, it will no longer happen, because you will be his property.
Deep throat: If he hears you gag, it's better. He doesn't need you to try hard to limit it. He wants to hear how you struggle to take him. He needs to see the tears running down your cheeks. He needs to feel your throat every time he goes deep inside you. He won't even apologize. He'll like it when your throat hurts afterwards.
Exhibitionism: Another one that is obvious, but is a must. He needs to have sex with you in front of many people. He needs them to see how he gives you pleasure, how everyone envies him. He wants everyone to want to have you but no one can, to look at your body with morbidity, but to never be able to have you. He needs to see the look of disgust on conservative people's faces. It's his ultimate fantasy.
Kurt Kunkle
Angry sex: This will happen often. He always does what he wants and gets absolutely careless with you. So you'll be angry for a long time and the best way to let it out is by having angry sex with him. It's the only way, as he won't listen to reason and will keep doing whatever he wants. Hit him, degrade him and make fun of him. He'll let you do whatever you want. He'll laugh if you're too cruel.
Cam sex: This isn't even surprising. He'll be turned on by fame, so it will turn him on to have sex in front of a lot of people watching. He'll keep his followers happy, so he'll tell you anything they suggest he tell you. So you'd have to be pretty shameless to be with him, as you might come off pretty degraded and pretty much everyone will see you as just a sex toy for entertainment.
Sexting: They'll do this a lot too. He can't be physically with you all the time. So, in his free time he will write you dirty messages and expect you to reply immediately. If you don't, he will get upset and jealous, thinking that you are with someone else. If this happens, the sexting will become more aggressive.
Sweetly Slasher (Quinn from the time jump, obviously, from the time cut movie)
Again it cracks me up, because nobody knows this one, but oh well since I'm including unknown slashers, give me your best suggestions for movie slashers that are not included in this list so I can include them and make the list of slashers longer lol.
Dumbification kink: He is literally a genius who was rejected by a girl; so I think he will continually treat you like you are a fool, it's his way of dealing with the situation (apart from the murder, obviously). And in sex that will intensify much more. He wants to overstimulate you and make you unable to respond with anything coherent. He'll say you're his favorite fool and expect you to act like it. He will manipulate you too much to make you do the things he wants you to do and pretend to praise you at the end.
Power play: I don't know if it's really a conventional kink, but I add it because it's in character. This goes hand in hand with the previous kink. He will put you at a disadvantage on multiple occasions, as he constantly needs to make you and himself understand that he is in control of you. So he will literally make all the decisions. He knows your limits and your tastes perfectly, so he always tends to get it right.
Sex toys: He is usually very busy, so he will play with you from a distance with the help of sex toys. He will order you not to move or do anything that could distract or bother him. Just focus on the sensation he is giving you through the toys. If you behave well, he might pay attention to you.
Brahms
Vouyerism: This kink has come up quite a bit, but it is impossible not to add it to Brahms. He will constantly watch you from behind the walls. He will watch you change clothes, bathe, pleasure yourself. He will watch you all the damn time. You would practically be his entertainment and his desire for you will increase much more as he gets to know your habits and your body.
Objectification: After he watches you for a long time, he will see you as an object. It is inevitable. You are the object of his desires. Made for him. That is why if you do not react the same, things will not be easy for you. You are supposed to agree with everything he says. You are supposed to be his alone and belong to him. He will convince you sooner or later and when he does, he will make the mistake of looking at you as his sexual object every time. You will have to be strong to be able to control him.
Overstimulation: He will like it when you overstimulate him. He wants to cum over and over again for you. He likes you to try to make him cry because he is so hypersensitive. He will beg you to make him cum over and over again. It does not matter how much it hurts or how much he cries. He also likes to feel like your toy. Just play with him.
