pairing‧₊ ̊🍹✩ ₊ ̊🍉⊹♡. . . perverted bf x big booty(🤤) male reader
warnings𓂃 ོ⋆☀︎𓂃⛱. . . having gooning sessions , body worship , reader got a fat ass , spanking , purposely buying someone tight clothes , hinted himbo reader(heavily implied that reader is in fact a himbo. he doesn't need to be buff in your perspective tho he is got a nice ass), VERY cringe wording i refused to read over it, obliviousness, public-ish sex
background knowledge⋆. 𐙚 ̊🍋🟩♪⋆.✮. . . your boyfriend loved absolutely everything about you. especially your ass. loves the way it jiggles when you walk, loves
notes. . . y'all im sorry again school is annoying and im always taking longggg naps on weekdays😔 i never proofread
he met you on a bad day. terrible day in fact. he only got half credit from his professors due to a late turn in, people were doing too much, he wasn't getting enough sleep, and his managers were such assholes at his job. he just needed a smoke, that was it.
what he had expected was to get his pack and go, smoke the cheapness of the cigarette filter when he got back outside. but what he hadn't expected was the see the finest man in existence to snap him out of his tiredness. you were real sweet for this time of the day too, all about "hi! welcome to the gas station, how many i help you?" bright and pretty smile on your face, gave him a little wave too. you were already cute, he was already captivated.
"i'll get uh.." he squinted his eyes a little. "camel brand please." he nodded, with a "you got it," then you turned around— good lord you turned around. he noticed the shape first, the way the back of your shirt rested at the top of your ass, tight and hugging that bit. then the way your pants had hugged the curve so damn good he felt himself salivate. then it was the way it moved, a small step making your cheeks jiggle subtly but very very noticeably. he took in a sharp breath, leaning on the counter as his hand covered his mouth.
"here you are sir," you handed him the pack, calculating the price. but no, not yet he couldn't leave. "ah..shit. im a fuckin' idiot i meant marlboro." he hated that brand. he tskd, handing the pack back to you and you reassured him it was no issue. his head went a little to the side, tongue licking at the top row of his teeth. yeah, watch you arch your back reeaal good and pop that ass out for him— "here you go! just need your ID please and that'll be 2.50." he gave an mhm, and gave you the things needed.
constant visits to the gas station turned into conversations on your break, to number and social exchange, then he was inviting you to his dorm room and holding a (ass)cheek with his tongue down your throat. he wasn't too subtle about it anymore if you could call his past little flirts subtle, though to you they definitely would be. he would smack your ass whenever you got up or walked in front of him, especially if it was up the stairs. he would give comments, squeeze real tight and bend his finger near your hole just to see you flinch and jump. it was cute.
it was even better when he fucked you, having you bent in front of him and each plap, plap, plap of skin drove him mad. his hand could be elsewhere yet his eyes would be fixated on the way your ass rippled with each thrust of his hips slapping into your skin.
you shivered, teeth clenching together hard enough to grind as your fingers gripped to the front counter you worked behind. the gas station apron you wore was loose around your hips, pants down to your ankles and back arched to perfection. his pupils dilated, hands squeezing at the fat flesh of your glutes as his hand lifted and— "ah!?" a harsh thwak echoed throughout the small store, your squeal of surprise even louder. "mhm.." he huffed through his nose, never stopping despite the very stinging burn pulsing through his lower back and hips.
"yeah, look at this ass bouncin' for me baby." your head turned back, embarrassment clouding your face completely because he was right. you could see the way your arch made the globes of flesh bigger and you could genuinely see it. you whined, flustered as ever and burying your face into your arms like that would erase it all. even worse was that you could feel it too.
"na-uh, don't be all shy with me now." he clicked his tongue, fingers coming to your hair and pulling so harshly that your scalp burned. "i said look. 'nd you gon' keep lookin' understand me?" you hiccuped, nodding your head as your glossy eyes flickered towards his hips pounding the ever loving hell out of you.
whenever he got you pants they wouldn't ever last long. he would buy you things all the time when he should be paying his tuition, yet each time he past the leggings section or jeans he just had to buy the entire rack of each.
"mh..this is..eugh–" your fingers looped around the jeans loops, your legs shuffling a little to try and get the waist line above the bottom part of your body but it just wouldn't go up! "this is a little tight.." he almost told you that was the entire point. you scoffed in annoyance, your toes tipping before you lightly jumped— fuck.
on about the fifth jump they popped on real quick. you huffed with accomplishment, buttoning and zipping up your fly. "alright! i got them on thankfully!" he nodded, standing up and turning you around to face the mirror again. your face dropped seeing his hands start to unzip the fly and unbutton the button. this asshole.
"i just got these on! you can't just take them off!?"
(;¬_¬) Alpha Tendencies - Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Plot: Childhood best friends turn into something more when red kryponite forces out Clark's perverted thoughts
Featuring: Alpha (Smallville) Clark Kent x Omega male reader
Note: Presenting as A/B/O happens around 18 in this AU, not around regular puberty at 14!!!!!!
ALSO! Never watched this series(?) and I know nothing abt DC other than what I've read from fanfiction so pls excuse any continuity issues and such!
Warnings: amab m!reader / FDNI ~ Minors DNI!
Alpha!Clark who's been protective over you since childhood. The two of you had been best friends and 'neighbours' since you two learnt to walk 'n talk! You were the closest house to Clark's farm; still pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but close enough that the brunette would knock on your door every day to get you outside to play together. And even though you two hadn't even presented yet, it was like you both naturally knew to settle into that Alpha-Omega rhythm. Clark would always watch out for you, his blood pressure spiking and his little fangs baring whenever you hurt yourself whilst playing or a stranger approached.
Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear...
It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!
Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.
Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.
Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently...
Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.
Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?
Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.
Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.
Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.
Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.
Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you.
By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.
Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.
Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you.
"Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?"
That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.
Alpha!Clark who would gently rub your hips and the side of your thighs as the intense aftershocks stop. The silence, accompanied by soft panting from both of you, was calming, and the feeling of Clark's hands rubbing your body and the marks left on it did wonders in relaxing you. Clark gently moved the two of you into a spooning position, mindful of his knot still keeping him rock hard and locked inside of you, and played with your hair as you both talked sweet nothings.
"Y'know... I think I fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you"
"Really? That quickly hmhm...? I think I fell for you when you carried me home when I scraped my knee"
"That happened quite often, you'll have to be more specific haha"
"Shut up... So... what did this mean?"
"If it were fully up to me... I'd of marked you and paraded you around the town as my Omega by now... But the deciding vote will always be yours, [name]"
"Hmhm~ I think we can take it a little slower than that... I think boyfriends is a good place to start~"
Something falls in the bathroom, Wanda’s eyes flicking over to the door in mild concern. You appear, your cheeks lightly flushed as you hold a towel loosely around your body. Wanda can’t help but trail her eyes down your frame, raising her eyebrow in a silent command.
You drop the towel, biting your lip as you make your way over to her. “Sorry, I dropped my lotion.”
Green eyes lock on yours, Wanda’s pupils dilating as she takes in your nudity. Your nipples are already hard, your skin soft and smelling faintly of her vanilla-scented body wash. She loved it when you used her products.
It was one of her rules, actually. You were required to use any product Wanda instructed you to, which consisted mainly of her own -expensive- things. You didn’t mind, you loved being taken care of, in every way.
Leaning down, you gently kiss her, smiling as her hand makes its way to your waist, her fingers digging in and urging you closer. This is your favorite side of her, the one that craves you. You love her fingers pulling you in, her lips on your skin, her eyes solely on yours.
“I’ve laid out a dress for you,” she murmurs, her voice husky and low. It sends a pleasant warmth down your spine that pools in your gut. “Go put it on.”
Her tone is firm as she gently pushes you toward the bed. You catch her eyes lingering on your nude form, glancing over you through the mirror as she applies the last bits of her makeup. Grinning to yourself, you decide to put on a show for her, swaying your hips as you saunter over to the bed.
There it is. The dress she’d picked out for you. It was beautiful, dark red and lacy, a long slit in the side that practically reached your hips. It had a neckline that dipped dangerously low, enough to tease the sight of your chest but not too much to expose you indecently. Just the way Wanda liked it. Lying next to the dress was a pair of black heels, the bottom of them painted bright red, a sight you’d become accustomed to.
Biting your lip to hide your excitement, you slowly pull the dress over your head, moving your hips slowly to fully pull it over your body. You note the lack of panties or a bra on the bed, your cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of sitting through dinner without any undergarments. Luckily, the dress supported your chest well, your breasts sitting comfortably with the extra padded support.
“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, having spun around to watch you.
Smiling, you bask in her attention as you slowly spin around, adjusting your hair slightly. Your zipper has been caught halfway up your back, the small piece of metal resting just below your shoulder blades.
Wanda gestures to you, a silent command.
You obey, snagging the heels from off the bed and padding toward her. You feel giggly, and a bit like you’re playing dress-up, but Wanda looks at you with utter adoration; her normally serious expression is nowhere to be found. Her eyes are wide and unguarded, her hands firm as she beckons you closer, but not stern and unforgiving as they usually are.
Biting your bottom lip, you decide that you quite like this side of her. It was almost… adorable.
As if she could read your thoughts, Wanda’s eyes snap up to yours from where they’d been lingering around your neckline. “Sit on my lap, darling.”
Blinking, you clear your throat as a strange shyness creeps over you.
“Now.”
Wanda’s tone turns slightly icy, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at your hesitance. She doesn’t like to be disobeyed.
“Yes, ma’am,” you murmur, noting the way her face smooths at your words. Quickly, you drop onto her lap, sitting sideways since your dress won’t allow you to straddle her as you usually did. The heels slip from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft thump as Wanda’s hand snakes around your waist.
Her green eyes peer into yours, studying your face. You notice the subtle makeup she’s put on, her eyelids darkened seductively with dark gold eyeshadow, her black eyeliner small and precise. Her lips are also dark, a matte red color coating them. You wonder if it would stain your skin, then promptly push that thought to the back of your mind, lest you leak through your expensive dress.
“I have some jewelry for you,” Wanda murmurs, her other hand coming up to trace the thin gold chain fastened permanently around your neck. She’d gifted it to you last year, her initials subtly engraved into the chain, a private sign of her ownership of you. Wanda wore a similar necklace, your initials also engraved into the silver metal glittering around her neck.
Smiling, you lean in until your lips are mere inches from hers, “I love it when you dress me, Wanda.”
“I know you do,” Wanda smirks, her hand dropping to grip your thigh possessively for a moment, before she reaches for some jewelry she’s laid out on the vanity in front of her. Her fingers send heat down your spine as she grazes them lightly across your skin, clasping a few necklaces around your neck. She adjusts them, laying the metal perfectly on your chest before she taps your hands in a silent command.
Obediently, you raise your hands, watching her slip various rings on them. Somehow, Wanda always manages to match your jewelry to your outfit perfectly. You’re in awe every time, and you no longer protest when she demands to dress you.
Green eyes flit over your ears, Wanda nodding slightly in approval as she takes in your various earrings. “Perfect,” she mutters, her hand coming back down to your thigh.
“Yes, you are.”
“Don’t deflect, darling. What do you say when I compliment you?” Wanda’s tone is light, but her eyes are intense, her fingers squeezing your thigh.
“Thank you, Wanda.”
Smirking, Wanda releases her hold on your thigh. “Good girl.” She moves to stand, helping you off her lap and adjusting your hair to fall perfectly over your shoulders. “Now put those heels on and meet me by the cars.”
Wanda lightly kisses you, careful not to ruin her lipstick -or yours- before she playfully squeezes your waist and walks out the door.
The heels slip on quickly, perfectly molded to your feet. You take a moment, looking at yourself in the mirror and willing your blush to go away. You’re unsuccessful.
Wanda is beautiful. She stands next to the passenger door of her favorite car, opening it and ushering you in. The exterior is gleaming, the dark red gloss standing out. The interior is even nicer, somehow, all black leather with red trim. It smells as fresh as the day she bought it.
Taking a moment, you admire Wanda’s outfit, her silver jewelry and sharply cut jacket. She’s several inches taller than you, her heels clacking softly on the ground as she shuts the door softly before rounding the car to the driver’s side.
The drive to the restaurant is relatively short. You steal glances at Wanda the entire time, loving the comforting weight of her hand on your thigh.
You’ve grown used to being pampered by her. She makes a lot of decisions for the two of you, and you love her control over you. You love providing for her as well, insisting on cooking meals whenever you can. Between your part-time job at a bookstore and your relationship, you were pretty okay with your life.
Wanda would have preferred you to be home all the time, especially when she often worked from her home office, but you’d insisted on keeping your job. You liked it, there was a bookstore cat named Freckles, and your manager was really nice. Plus, you loved being surrounded by books all day.
Shifting in your seat slightly, you bite your lip in excitement as you feel your credit card sitting snug between the fabric of your dress and your breasts. You’d been saving up for months, knowing that Wanda had expensive tastes. This restaurant was meant for upper-class patrons, so you’d prepared well in advance. You wanted to surprise her tonight; after all, it wasn’t often you got to return the favor of spoiling Wanda.
Wanda never lets you pay for anything. You'll be changing that tonight.
The restaurant is just as you remembered. Low lighting and soft voices that help you relax further into Wanda’s hand on the small of your back. It feels safer this way, more intimate.
“Right this way, Ma’am,” the waiter says, his voice quiet as he gestures for Wanda to follow. Her hand is splayed on your lower back, the warmth from her fingers propelling you forward as the waiter leads you to a table near the back.
The chair doesn’t make a sound and Wanda slides it out, gesturing for you to sit. Her hands briefly touch your shoulders before she pushes the chair in firmly, her stride elegant as she walks to the chair across from you.
“Two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, from the Robert Mondavi Winery Reserve,” she murmurs, the waiter nodding dutifully before striding away.
Those green eyes stare into yours, a soft smile playing on Wanda’s lips.
“You look beautiful tonight, darling.”
“Thank you, Wanda,” you whisper, blushing at the praise. You briefly touch the necklace resting between your collarbones. “I think you look amazing.”
Wanda smiles warmly at that, her hand sliding across the table to clasp yours. Her fingers are soft as you idly play with her rings.
The waiter returns, showing the bottle before Wanda nods at him. He pours the wine, standing still as Wanda takes a sip. His eyes are nervous, but Wanda simply nods again before quietly ordering food for the both of you.
You knew what she was going to order. You’d meticulously saved up in order to cover the bill, plus a generous tip. A flood of relief fills you when she doesn’t stray from her usual order, but you cover it up with a smile.
“How was work?”
Wanda begins speaking, her thumb running over the back of your hand as she does. You listen diligently, unsure of half the things she’s referring to but enjoying yourself nonetheless. The waiter returns some time later with steaming food, and you and Wanda make idle conversation while you eat.
It is one of the best meals you could have asked for. Perfectly cooked salmon with a side of quinoa salad and rice. There are complementary breadsticks, and you eagerly take two. The wine pairs nicely with the food, but you’re not a huge nerd about it like Wanda is. She knows all the best combinations.
Truly, it all tastes the same to you. But, you’d never tell her that.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” you say, wiping your mouth politely.
Wanda simply nods, sipping her wine. You’re a much faster eater than she is, and this is one of the times you’re grateful for the skill. Squeezing her hand briefly, you stand up and walk toward the restrooms.
Once you’ve rounded the corner, your heart begins to race. Glancing back, you see Wanda taking a small bite of her salad.
Perfect.
“Excuse me,” you say quietly, walking up to the waiter standing near the kitchen window. He looks up, surprised.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” He asks, politely averting his eyes when you dig into your dress for your credit card.
“I’d like to pay for my wife’s and my meal.”
He nods, gingerly taking your card. You try not to giggle, smoothing your face over when he nods and briskly walks into the backroom. Casually, you fix your hair, careful not to lean against the wall. Wanda had helped you with your posture, and you could still remember her lessons in the back of your mind.
“All set, ma’am.” The waiter returns, handing you your card back.
“Oh, thank you,” you murmur, placing it back into your dress and biting your lip to stifle your smile when he looks away again. You pull out two hundred-dollar bills, handing them to him. “Thank you.”
He smiles politely as he accepts the bills, nodding at you.
“I’d prefer you keep this from my wife until the end of the meal,” you say, watching his eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m surprising her.”
“Ah,” he smiles wider this time. “Always happy to be a part of a surprise, ma’am. My lips are sealed.”
With that, you walk back to your seat. You make sure not to walk too quickly, lest Wanda becomes suspicious. She always has a way of figuring out what you’ve been up to.
“There you are, darling,” she smiles at you and stands, pulling your chair out again. “I was beginning to worry.”
You flush, sitting down again and turning to look up at her. “Just decided to freshen up a bit, I wanted to look my absolute best for you.”
Leaning down, Wanda places a soft kiss against your cheek. “You always look wonderful, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Wanda.”
Smiling at you, Wanda returns to her seat and grasps the stem of her wine glass. You mirror her action, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a deep sip. You’re going to need some liquid confidence to get through the night once Wanda discovers what you’ve done.
One thing you’d learned early on in your relationship was that Wanda liked to be the one in charge of things. You didn’t mind, especially in the bedroom, but you’d always felt just a tiny bit disappointed when you wanted to spoil her and she’d refuse. She’d just offer her own card, raising an eyebrow at you and firmly reminding you that she was there to take care of you.
Sometimes it felt like you weren’t contributing anything of worth to the relationship.
“Darling?” Wanda’s green eyes are piercing, locked on your face. “Are you alright? You look… morose.”
You shake away your thoughts. You’re sitting here with the beautiful woman that you married, on a nice date that you’ve just paid for. Get a grip.
“Yes,” you say, smiling reassuringly at her. “I just got lost in my thoughts, you know how that happens sometimes.”
Laughing slightly, you watch Wanda’s lips quirk up slightly, but something tells you that she won’t let the subject go that easily. You reach across the table, grabbing her hand and making sure she can see down the front of your dress.
“Baby, I’m fine. Really.”
Green eyes flit down, before they glance back up at you, her eyebrow raised. “Alright. Just stay present with me, okay?”
You nod eagerly, smiling brightly at her before sitting up again.
Under the table, you feel the top of Wanda’s heel brush against your leg, advancing slowly as it makes its way above your knees and further up your thigh. “You’ll pay for that stunt,” Wanda murmurs.
Your heart stops for a moment, your mind flashing back to your credit card, before you realize she’s talking about your adventurous moment when she got a nice full look at your chest.
“I understand,” you quip, adjusting in your seat to spread your legs further just slightly, watching the way Wanda’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. That’s right, two could play this game. You smiled victoriously.
“How do you feel about going to the speakeasy a bit further downtown?” Wanda asks, finishing the rest of her wine. You mirror her actions, feeling the pleasant buzz under your skin.
You nod, and Wanda smiles at you, grabbing her clutch.
“I’ll be right back.”
Watching her leave to find the waiter, you wait anxiously. You can just barely see her across the restaurant, her red hair glowing slightly in the warm lighting. She’s exchanging low words with the waiter, before he gestures over towards your table. Two sets of eyes turn towards you, one apologetic and the other unreadable.
You’re focused on the green pair, barely noticing the cash Wanda hands the waiter as a tip.
She advances slowly, moving through the restaurant as her gaze never leaves yours. “Darling…” she says when she reaches your seat, her hand on your shoulder. It’s firm, not painful, but her fingers dig in just enough to express how she’s feeling.
“Surprise,” you say, smiling up at her. You’re proud of yourself; your voice didn’t even waver. Standing, you bite your lip as you gaze at her, assessing her expression.
She reveals nothing, her hand snaking around your waist and guiding you toward the front door. What would normally be a comforting action sends pleasant shivers down your spine.
Wanda remains silent all the way to the car, opening the passenger door and ushering you in. Sliding into the driver's seat, she starts the car before letting out a breath.
“Explain.”
“I wanted to treat you for once,” you say stubbornly. You might as well have crossed your arms and pouted, but you didn’t.
Looking at you, Wanda sighs. “Darling, why do you always fight me on this topic?”
You don’t answer, looking out of your window as Wanda begins backing up the car, the low hum of the engine comforting. The city flashes before you as she drives, people milling about, and different lights hitting your eyes.
“Sweetheart,” Wanda says, something in her tone telling you to turn and look at her. “You know that I appreciate it when you want to pay for me, don’t you?”
You furrow your brow. “I… well, I always thought it just annoyed you.”
“It does annoy me,” Wanda shoots a look at you. “But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do.”
Then, she sighs. “In this relationship, you do so much for me. One of the only ways I feel that I can take care of you is by paying and making sure you don’t have to worry about anything financially. Do you understand?”
“I- but I don’t do that much for you?”
Wanda laughs then, the sound surprising you. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea, do you?”
Shaking your head, you watch her as you wait for an explanation.
“Lift up the hem of your dress.”
It’s a command, and you blink at the sudden turn of events. Still, you know better than to disobey Wanda. Slowly, you drag the hem up until the tops of your thighs are revealed.
“Spread your legs.”
“Wanda…”
She shoots you a look. You spread your legs.
“Touch yourself.”
At that, you suck in a breath. Trailing your fingers down, you collect some of your arousal on your fingertips, surprised at how wet you are. Then, you begin circling your clit, nice and slow, just the way Wanda likes it.
“Good girl. Keep doing that.”
Wanda smiles, glancing down at your fingers every so often as she makes her way out of the city. You want to ask about the speakeasy, but choose to remain silent. She seems to be proving a point somehow, and you wait for her to explain.
“We’re going home, where I’m going to make us some drinks and you’re going to sit on my lap while we make a new rule. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Smiling at that, Wanda reaches over, placing a hand on your thigh. It makes your skin buzz hotly, and you resist the urge to circle your clit faster.
“This is one of many things you do for me, darling. Your submission is everything to me, and you offer it so willingly. I’ve been able to freely express my dominant side with you, and you’ve never judged me for the things I desire in a sexual dynamic. You were made for me.”
You nod, realization creeping into your mind. Wanda isn’t finished.
“You have your job, which I allowed because I know how happy it makes you, and I want you to have a life outside of me. As much as I would like to keep you for myself, I know how much you adore that bookshop. At home, you cook for me, not because I’ve asked you to, but because you genuinely enjoy cooking. That is something you provide for me.”
Wanda quirks an eyebrow at you. “When I get home, what is the first thing you do?”
Blushing, you respond, your words slightly breathy. “I take your coat and purse, give you a kiss, and walk with you to your home office while you tell me about your day.”
Nodding, Wanda continues. “That is another thing you provide for me, sweetheart.”
She continues to list things, small, mundane things that you hadn’t considered to be a big deal. Evidently, they meant the world to Wanda. The way you helped her with laundry, when you’d rub her shoulders after a long meeting, make her a drink in the evening, and especially when you’d follow her orders.
“Like I said, you were made for me. You do so much for our relationship.”
“So do you,” you protest, stopping yourself from saying more when she shoots a sharp look your way.
“One of the main ways I feel that I can contribute and take care of you in this relationship is with my income. You know I make a lot, darling, I’ve never hidden that from you. I work long days so that I can come home and make your life comfortable.”
“Oh,” you say, finally understanding.
“Please, darling. Let me use my money on you. That’s why I work so hard.”
You nod, unable to speak as you realize why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything.
“I see you finally understand,” Wanda says, glancing down again. “Go faster.”
Blinking, you circle your clit faster, biting your lip at the pleasure it brings. You take a deep, shuddering breath, sure that you’re leaking through your dress. The air in the car becomes warm, and the next time that Wanda looks at you, her pupils are blown.
“Keep going,” she murmurs, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “If you cum before we get home, your punishment will be worse.”
You whine, nodding as you keep your pace. You try desperately to think of anything other than the woman seated beside you, her grip firm on your thigh as you feel your pleasure building.
The fingers on your thigh grip harshly as you slow your pace slightly, trying to stave off your incoming orgasm.
“What did I say?” Wanda hisses, her eyes glancing sharply at you.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry… what?”
You shudder, feeling little bolts of pleasure crashing through you. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Hmm,” Wanda pretends to think, watching as you increase your pace again. “I don’t think that’s a strong enough title, do you?”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
Wanda smiles, satisfied. “Good girl. Keep going. Please your Mistress.”
You let out a low moan at her words, feeling your pleasure increase tenfold as she calls herself that title. You try to stop it, your orgasm. But Wanda is talking, telling you that you’re doing so well for her as her fingers slowly inch up your thigh, her vanilla scent engulfing you as your muscles spasm, white-hot pleasure overtaking you.
You fingers stall, your orgasm coursing through you as your clit pulses. Wanda makes a noise, her fingers grabbing yours and moving them back to your raw clit. “Did I tell you to stop?”
“No, I’m sorry, Mistress.”
Continuing, you let your fingers wring every last drop of pleasure from you, aware of the fact that you’ve just made your punishment worse. You truly couldn’t help it. I mean, it’s not your fault that your wife was insanely hot and her words were able to bring you to orgasm, was it?
You’re working your way up to a second orgasm when Wanda pulls into the driveway of your shared home. As the garage shuts behind you, she turns the engine off, her hand grabbing yours and gently pulling it away from your swollen clit.
Wrapping her fingers around your wrist, Wanda brings your hand to her lips, maintaining eye contact with you as she sucks the arousal off of your fingers.
“I can smell your arousal,” she murmurs, releasing your fingers with a soft pop. “I’m going to get changed. By the time I come back, I want you nude and kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, with two drinks in your hands. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.” You watch her exit the car and round the side to open your door.
Wanda disappears into the bedroom, and you quickly make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients to make Wanda’s favourite cocktail.
It isn’t long before you’re finished, garnishing each drink with a maraschino cherry. You walk carefully to the living room, setting the drinks on two coasters near the couch. Wanda didn’t like it when you forgot about the coasters. You didn’t blame her, all of the furniture in your home was expensive, much of it was hand-crafted.
Stripping out of your beautiful dress, you fold it neatly and place it on the chair nearby, your heels sitting next to it. You remove all of your jewelry, except for the permanent gold chain around your neck.
Grabbing the drinks, you kneel in front of the couch, facing the cushions. It’s a position that Wanda had trained into you, and you’re well aware of the wetness clinging to your center as you wait.
Footsteps sound out, heels clicking towards you. As much as you want to, you don’t dare turn from your position, knowing that Wanda liked the thrill of suspense.
“I hope you enjoyed that orgasm in the car,” Wanda says, stepping around you to sit on the couch. Your mouth waters as she comes into view. “It will be your only orgasm tonight.”
Your eyes snap up to hers, but you remain silent, her eyes hard and unforgiving. The lingerie set she’s wearing is gorgeous, all black with a lacy corset. There are accents of dark red throughout the whole piece, and you can feel yourself getting worked up as you take her in.
Wanda’s hand grabs one of the glasses, sipping from it as she makes a small noise of appreciation. Setting it to the side, she grabs the cherry and pops it in her mouth, before she leans forward to grab your jaw.
“Open.”
You can smell the cherry and sharp hints of alcohol on her tongue, and you obey. Wanda’s fingers reach into your glass, grabbing the cherry and bringing it to your parted lips. She rubs it over your top lip first, then your bottom lip. You remain still, watching her eyes as she slowly presses the cherry onto your tongue.
“Chew and swallow, dear.”
You obey, looking into her eyes as you do so.
Wanda smirks, satisfied with your obedience. She grabs your glass, tapping her knees in a silent command as she brings the glass to your lips. You rest your hands on the tops of your thighs, palms facing up as she tips the glass forward, the sweet drink flowing into your mouth.
She has you drink until the glass is empty, your stomach warm from the alcohol and lips buzzing from the way she’d wiped them with her fingers once she was done. Wanda sits back, watching your flushed face as she sips on her own drink.
“There is going to be a new rule implemented, darling.”
You nod, tilting your head slightly.
“When we are together, I will pay for everything. If you wish to make a purchase, you will talk to me beforehand. You know how I hate it when you disobey or trick me in public.” Wanda’s eyes soften. “Occasionally, you can buy some things when we are together, I won’t deny you that. But, let me take care of you, okay?”
You nod. The decision is easy now that you know the real reason why Wanda was so insistent on paying for everything. Besides, it was nice to be taken care of.
“Good girl.”
Wanda finishes her drink, setting it next to your glass. “You know that I have to punish you, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.” You hang your head slightly, wondering what type of punishment Wanda has planned. Strong fingers grip your chin, wrenching your head up.
“You know why, don’t you?”
“Because I went behind your back, Mistress.”
Wanda’s eyes flash, a pleased smile adorning her face. “Exactly, sweetheart. You know that what you did was wrong, and you know how I hate it when you are dishonest with me.”
At that, Wanda stands, still gripping your face as you crane your neck to look up at her. “Who owns you?”
“You do, Mistress.”
Wanda’s fingers tighten on your jaw, forcing your mouth open. She spits, letting her saliva drip into your mouth, and you swallow obediently.
“Crawl,” she commands, before turning and walking slowly to the bedroom.
You obey, your eyes glued to the sway of her backside as her footsteps click down the hallway. The hallway is carpeted, something you’re grateful for as you crawl behind Wanda. You can feel your arousal running down your inner thighs as you crawl, and sharp arousal mixed with soft humiliation mixes deep inside you.
You reflect on your choices as you crawl, satisfaction that Wanda had finally explained why she liked to pay working its way through you, even as regret pools in your stomach. You truly hated going behind Wanda’s back, and although it was meant as a thoughtful surprise, you now understood why it meant so much to Wanda to take care of you financially.
Wanda stops, wordlessly pointing at the bed. You blink, having not realized that you’d made it to the bedroom already. You follow Wanda’s instructions, crawling onto the bed as she shuts the door behind you, a few warm lamps lighting the room.
“Sometimes I forget…” Wanda begins, sauntering back over to the bed, a glint in her eye. “I forget that good girls like you need discipline to keep them in line, isn’t that right?”
You nod.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Wanda’s eyes hardened. “Yes, Mistress… what?”
“I-” your eyes dart around the room, unsure of what Wanda wants you to say. The woman reached behind you, grabbing two velcro cuffs and attaching them to your wrists while you fumble for an answer.
“What do good girls need, sweetheart?” Wanda finally says, testing the cuffs to make sure they’re secure but not too tight.
“Oh, um. Good girls need their Mistresses to discipline them to remind them of their place.” You turn to look at Wanda, hopeful that you’ve supplied the correct answer. Wanda smiles at you, tracing a finger down your face as she nods.
“Very good,” she murmurs, grabbing a piece of metal and attaching your wrists together on your lap. You know that you can’t escape, so you don’t even test the strength of the restraints; you just watch Wanda.
Tapping your lower back, Wanda urges you into position. “On your knees, ass up, darling. I want your arms straight up so your face is on the mattress.”
You obey, stretching your arms out and presenting your backside. Wanda’s hand lands on the back of your head, ensuring that you stay in place, before she strokes your hair and trails her fingers down your spine. Her lips caress your ear, her vanilla scent washing over you as she whispers, “Count for me.”
You barely have time to question it before a resounding crack echoes through the room. You register the pain a second later, a burning sensation multiplying the humiliation and arousal inside you.
“One, Mistress.”
Wanda is relentless, using her hand first, until you no longer squirm when she spanks you. She lets out a frustrated noise as your voice remains steady, stalking over to the closet and emerging with more toys.
“I want to see you break,” she hisses, grabbing the roots of your hair and twisting your head until your wide eyes meet hers. She relishes the wide look of anticipation and trepidation on your face, before she roughly shoves your face back into the mattress, one hand steadying your back while the other raises a paddle and brings it down sharply with a twist of her wrist.
“T- twenty-three, Mistress,” you moan, feeling tears form in your eyes as your head starts to become fuzzy. This was the headspace that you loved the most, and Wanda knew just how to get you there.
Wanda resumes, switching between the paddle and a soft cane, the low whistle in the air before it strikes you, causing your arousal to spike.
“God, I love how much of a masochist you are,” Wanda says, her voice slightly raspy. “You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, darling?”
“Yes, Mistress,” you say, your voice slightly muffled from the way your face is pressed into the mattress.
Wanda delivers one final blow, the crack jolting your body forward as your fingers grip the comforter tightly, a muffled sob sounding out. Her cool fingers gently trail over your raw, red ass, her voice whispering in your ear, “Color?”
“Yellow, Mistress,” you moan. “I just need a moment.”
“Good girl,” she responds, rubbing your backside for a moment before walking back into the closet to retrieve more toys, letting you catch your breath.
She remains in the closet for a suspiciously long time, but you don’t dare raise your head. You can hear her rummaging around, her heels making a soft thud on the carpet as she returns, the weight of the bed shifting as she deposits whatever items she collected.
There are some more noises, near the foot of the bed, and you feel yourself craning to hear what she might be doing.
“Turn around, darling,” Wanda commands. “On your knees, facing the headboard.”
“Yes, Mistress,” you mumble, quickly following her order. You can feel her attaching cuffs of some sort to your ankles, and you realize that you’ve been restrained with a spreader bar. Flexing your ankles for a moment, you realize that you’re well and truly stuck. It sends a rush of arousal through you.
“You like this, don’t you,” Wanda murmurs, dragging a finger through your dripping slit, an appreciative moan telling you that she licked your juices from her finger.
You can’t do much but whimper, hearing her chuckle from behind you.
The feeling of something thick prodding at you makes your heart stutter for a moment, before you feel Wanda’s fingers spreading lube all over what you presume to be a dildo. She makes sure to spread some on you as well, her fingers scissoring inside you as she ensures you’re well lubricated.
There’s a click, and then you hear the soft hum of machinery. A thick dildo presses against you, and you moan as you feel it start to penetrate you.
“Hold still,” Wanda commands, and you obey, feeling her adjusting the machine. The dildo presses deep inside you, hitting that spot inside you that causes pleasure to bloom, and you groan into the mattress.
“Perfect.”
Wanda rounds the bed, the machine slowly thrusting her favorite dildo deep inside you, the sounds of your wet pussy being slowly fucked sending her own arousal soaring. She grips your hair again, pulling your head up to admire the glassy look in your eyes. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“I- mmmph,” you manage, your eyes gazing into hers, not a thought behind them.
Chuckling, Wanda presses a button on the remote, the dildo moving slightly faster. Your mouth opens, your cheeks coloring further as a deep flush emerges.
God, it feels amazing. Wanda’s cool hands on your cheeks as your body is set alight with pleasure. She’s moving, pulling off her lingerie as she manoeuvres herself to sit against the headboard.
You can smell her, so you drop your gaze down to her perfect pussy, licking your lips at the glistening arousal you find there.
“Go on,” Wanda’s voice cuts through the haze. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster and deeper. “Make Mommy feel good.”
At that, you dive in, not needing to be told twice. Eating Wanda out was something you’d never tire of. She smelled divine, and tasted even better. You’d told her once that you thought she compared to the nectar of the Gods, and she’d been so pleased that she allowed you to eat her out during an entire workday from home. It had been one of the best days of your life.
“Oh, fuck,” Wanda breathes out, feeling your tongue expertly wrap around her clit, stimulating her in that perfect way of yours. Her hand makes its way to your hair, gripping tightly. It would be uncomfortable, but you loved the pain as she pulled on your roots slightly, pushing your face further into her.
Your hands are still uselessly cuffed together, but your fingers manage to find Wanda’s nipples. You pinch them in that way she likes so much, and you feel her clit pulse beneath your tongue.
Wanda has never been very vocal during sex, but you’ve learned how to read her all the same. You can feel her breath stutter beneath your fingers, and you continue to stimulate her nipples, rolling and pinching until her muscles twitch. She subconsciously thrusts harder into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.
When she comes, it’s quietly, with a low moan and her fingers gripping your hair like she never wants to let you go. You moan with her, your pleasure building as the dildo continues to fuck you slowly, sliding in and out of you until your brain can’t focus on anything else.
“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, pulling your head up to gaze at you. “I want to fill you up, darling.”
Your eyes widen, but you nod, the pleasure making your mind fuzzy. Wanda knows this. She knows how easy you are to manipulate and follow her every word when you’re desperate to cum.
Smirking, Wanda caresses your cheek for a brief moment before she slides out from under you, grabbing another toy from the nightstand.
It’s a beautiful buttplug, made of pure gold with a dark red gem at the end. It’s one of Wanda’s favorites, and you like it well enough. It’s not too big, just enough to stretch you out and make you feel full, and you love it when Wanda claims every part of you.
“Relax, baby,” Wanda murmurs, gently squeezing some lube onto your ass. You obey her, the pleasure from the dildo making your muscles weak. Wanda presses on the remote again, the dildo fucking you faster, pleasure erupting inside you.
Slowly, Wanda inserts the buttplug. You can feel the stretch, the slight burn as the thickest part of the plug makes it past your rim, the sensation of being full making you pant and moan.
“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I claim every one of your holes, hmm?” Wanda asks, twisting the buttplug so it’s covered in lube as she slowly inserts it.
“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, bucking your hips into her hand. This causes the dildo to fuck deeper inside you, and you practically melt into the mattress, your muscles going limp from pleasure.
Wanda chuckles, inserting the buttplug fully and relishing the way you whine at the fullness you feel. She admires you for a moment, the dark red gem glinting back at her as your arousal drips down your thighs while the machine fucks you relentlessly.
Grabbing a soft towel, Wanda slips it underneath you, grabbing your ass when she’s finishes and kneading your hot flesh. You moan, full twinges of pain only adding to your pleasure. You can feel an orgasm starting to emerge, your heart racing as pleasure builds within you.
“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, her voice sounding out next to your ear.
You moan in response, too weak to do much else.
“Aww,” Wanda coos, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “My pet is too dumb to respond correctly, isn’t she?”
Her words reverberate around your skull, the warm vanilla scent engulfing you as your mind grows hazier. You can’t offer much other than soft whimpers and moans, your head turning to tearfully look at your Mistress.
“Well,” Wanda begins, her hands caressing your sore backside harshly. “Since you can’t form a correct response, I suppose I’ll have to punish you.”
You would protest, but you can barely think of any words to say. Wanda’s hand comes down, gentler than her strikes before, but the impact on your already red ass makes you yelp, your mind breaking fully.
Wanda is gentle, but persistent. She spanks you in a rhythm you can’t decipher, unable to anticipate when she’ll strike next. It thrills you, and sends your mind deep into that vanilla headspace you’ve grown to love. Pain mixes with pleasure, the dildo fucking you slowly enough that you feel your orgasm growing, but never quite enough to tip you over the edge.
“P-please,” you manage, after you feel yourself edge again, Wanda monitoring your body’s reactions and slowing the dildo down whenever you grow too close to an orgasm.
“Use your words, darling. Full sentences."
“I-,” you moan loudly, the dildo speeding up.
“Pathetic,” Wanda murmurs, her hand grabbing your hair and yanking your head up. Green eyes meet glazed ones, and she smirks. “You can’t even beg properly anymore, you’re completely mine, aren't you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, unable to say anything else.
“Good girl,” Wanda releases your hair, letting your head press into the mattress weakly. She clicks the remote again, the dildo fucking you harder than before, the sound of your arousal making it’s way to your ears as you feel pleasure growing once again.
Your orgasm is close, your knuckles white as you grip the pillow, your muscles tense. You’re so close, and Wanda knows it.
“Tell me, darling,” Wanda begins, sitting next to you, stroking your back gently as the dildo fucks punishingly into you. “What lesson did you learn today?”
“I- um… to… to let you, mmphh fuck, to let you pay for me…”
Wanda smiles. “Exactly.” Then, she stands, reaching back to slowly grab the buttplug, pressing it even further into you. You moan, a broken, weak sound that makes Wanda pulse with need.
“You’re going to obey me.” Wanda pulls the buttplug slightly out, before slamming it back into you. “You will never question me or go behind my back again, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” you yelp, moaning as you feel your orgasm creep closer.
“Oh, sweetheart, you know I just want to take care of you, right?” Wanda’s voice is sickly sweet. “That’s all I want. And you just need to learn your place.”
You nod frantically, your submissiveness clicking firmer into place, your role reestablished in your mind.
“Yes, Mistress,” you moan. “I know my place, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll never disobey you again.”
“I doubt that,” Wanda murmurs to herself, before smiling at your wrecked form. “One more edge, baby, then we can be done for the night.”
You nod, moaning as Wanda clicks the remote higher, the dildo fucking you faster and rougher than it had previously. You’re almost overwhelmed with pleasure, Wanda’s hands on your face and ass, her presence everywhere. You love it.
“I- m gonna…”
Wanda clicks the remote, the dildo stopping immediately.
You moan in slight frustration, feeling your arousal leaking around the dildo as it drips down your thighs. Everything happens in a haze, Wanda removing the dildo from you and slowly taking your buttplug out. She unclips your restraints, leaving you boneless on the bed as you embrace the comfortable haze in your mind.
The shower is nice, warm, and smelling of vanilla as Wanda washes your body and hair, whispering sweet things into your ear while you slump against her. It’s not until you’re wrapped up underneath the covers that you finally begin to emerge from that comfortable headspace, your limbs entangled with your wife’s.
“I love you, darling. Thank you for your trust in me.”
“You always make good decisions for us,” you say, yawning slightly and burrowing further into her. “I love you, too.”
Wanda smiles, making a contented noise as you hear her breathing start to grow softer.
“Hey, Wands?”
“Hmm.”
“I’m paying for ice cream tomorrow.”
And with that, you ignore the soft, happy sigh your wife lets out, letting her vanilla scent engulf you completely.
18+ content ahead. angel character x human reader. intentional upper and lower case. lots of references to catholicism. amab, masc reader & character. fem-aligned & minors dni.
thinking about being on your knees alone in a grand cathedral. your eyes are closed, your hands are clasped in prayer, and you’re begging whoever’s out there to intercede for you, to purify your rotten soul. your legs are weak from how long you’ve held this position.
an unfamiliar, warm caress awakens you from your trance, but you have to strain to open your eyes. the incandescent light in front of you is almost unbearable. your corneas sting, and you can feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes.
Cry not, little one. Be not afraid.
the words echo in your head, but have no apparent source. as your sight adjusts, you can make out a shape that is just barely human. it stands between yourself and the altar you were praying to a moment ago. you could have sworn someone touched you, but the creature was much too far from you to do that. it becomes increasingly clear to you what, or who, this creature might be, and the words escape your lips before you can think any further.
“god, is that you?”
the effulgent figure laughs, or at least you think it was him. the sound seems to be coming from your own head, rather than an outside source. his voice is deep and velvety, but it had a musical quality to it.
No, lamb, for I am one of His servants.
you ponder for a moment, only to come to a stronger conclusion. your voice comes out a bit more confident this time.
“a servant of the lord? are you an angel?”
a sudden sensation of warmth fills you, much like happiness or pride. however, you sense that this emotion is not your own, and that it is merely being transferred to you.
That is correct.
his words send a shiver down your spine. tears still threaten to spill from your eyes, but no longer because of his light. rather, you am tempted to cry because due to the sheer awe that has overcome you. your heart races with divine fear of the being in front of you. electricity races through your blood and down, between your legs. you hope he doesn’t notice your growing arousal, especially since you just met the angel.
“s-so… do you have a message for me?”
Not quite, little one. I have been sent to provide an answer for your prayers.
your attempt to stifle your sinful lust is proving to be increasingly unsuccessful. all you can hope is that this angel does not know the human body well enough, so that he does not recognize your flushed cheeks or pounding heart as symptoms of desire.
“would the answer… is it not a message?”
I do not believe a human would interpret it in such a way.
suddenly, an invisible force guides you up, from your knees, and to a standing position. you feel as though you have no choice but to obey, and so you do. that same force compels you forward, the angel following close behind you. you didn’t need to ask to know what this mysterious force was.
now that you stand next to him, you are forced to confront just how much larger he is than you. he has to be at least double your own height. no wonder people are so intimidated by angels. however, he is more like a human than you expected an angel to look.
you stand in between the altar and the tabernacle, your back facing the pews. the angel comes to stand in front of you and lifts you onto the altar.
he cast both yourself and the dim cathedral in a soft glow. you was almost confident that he had toned down his brilliance so that you could bear being so close. his wings spread behind him in a grand display and a halo encircled his head. however, despite all his glory, he did not cast a shadow.
this close, the vague shape of human facial features were visible. although, they were a bit fuzzy, as if not fully realized. there were indents for eyes, the sharp point of a straight nose, and barely discernible lips.
I suppose I should make myself appear more human, if I intend to do what I wish with you.
the fuzzy edges solidified, and he was no longer a being of pure light. he had eyes like storm clouds and hair like silk. he still had his wings, but now they were formed of feathers rather than fire. you were tempted to run your fingers through them, and over his skin, to touch the divine with human flesh. his face broke into a grin and you flushed, remembering he could see your thoughts.
the angel’s robes were done up lazily, and could be pulled apart with a little tug, as if he was trying to tempt you. you could do nothing to hide your growing arousal, especially since he was right in front of you. even then, you made a pathetic attempt at covering yourself up.
he flicked your hands aside with ease, saying, “You need not hide yourself from me, little lamb. I already know how you feel.”
your face twisted in confusion, distracting from his slight teasing. “why are you speaking aloud to me if you can speak directly into my head?”
“Humans seem to be less afraid of me when I communicate in this way and in a human form. However, I do not seem to have that same problem with you. Even your tears came from a place of awe rather than fear.” one of his hands now cradled your face, as his eyes gazed into yours like you were the divine being here. he scoffed slightly as you leaned into his touch without apprehension, scooting infinitesimally towards him. “You are a curiosity amongst your kind, my dear. That is precisely how you managed to catch my attention. In truth, I have been watching you for some time now.”
you couldn’t help but question him again. “how long?”
“Not too long, but enough to become somewhat attached to you. I know you have being crying out to have your soul to be purified, especially since confession has been ineffective for you, and I have a method of doing so.”
“that method involves me being… here?” you gestured widely to the altar you were currently sitting upon.
“Why do I not just show you?”
before you could utter another word, his lips pressed against yours. how could you think whilst being held in the embrace of a sacred being, molded by god? how could describe the kiss of an angel?
his soft mouth fit against yours, like you were made for this kind of devotion. his hands, once stationary, now roamed your body, eager to learn every secret by touch alone, as well as to create a new one. the angel spread your legs with ease.
you balked at his experience, gasping and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. you didn’t expect a being such as him to be able to command your body effortlessly.
he tasted like saccharine wine, reminiscent of receiving communion in your childhood. the angel’s tongue slid against your own, drawing whimpers and whines from deep inside your throat.
the angel guided you to lay down on the altar, as he pushed deeper into your mouth. the moment he pulled away, you were gasping for breath. “you’re… really good at that for an angel,” you sputtered.
“I have been around since the beginning of humanity. It is only logical that I would possess at least some knowledge about pleasing a human.” he looked upon you with such adoration that, if you weren’t already blushing, you could have blushed from that look alone.
without you noticing, he had already jumped to disrobing you. his fingers rested upon the first buttons of your shirt. “You do want this, correct?”
“i think you already know the answer to that.”
“Still, I would like to hear it from your lips.”
“yes, i do.”
“Good,” he said, immediately diving back in to kissing you. meanwhile, his hands worked on removing your clothes. with the way you both were positioned, you could not return the favor. you had no choice but to take what the angel gave to you.
you would have shivered without your shirt, were it not for the warmth of his body above you. you let him guide you through each movements of what is both, to you at least, a foreign ritual and a familiar fantasy.
as his hands moved down, so did his mouth. the angel took his time, pressing kisses to each inch of flesh he had available to him. it didn’t take him long to find the spot that would make you react the most: the junction between your neck and shoulder. he lightly nipped at the flesh, forcing a moan from deep inside your body. “That is precisely what I like to hear,” he muttered against your skin.
his fingers worked at unzipping your slacks, tight due to your fervent arousal, and nearly ripped them off you as soon as he could. however, the angel refused to touch you wanted, needed, him most.
you attempted to move in the only way you could, bucking your hips into his hands and whining, “touch me, please…?”
“Not yet, little one,” he said, using one hand to hold you down whilst the other removed your underwear. “Do you really think you deserve that right now?”
already knowing the answer to his question, you were about to respond “no”. but before you could, the angel fully removed your undergarments, and a whine tore through your throat.
you were humiliated with your position, being naked and wanting in front of a divine being. however, your full erection told a different story. like a lamb in the arms of a priest, you thoughtlessly laid forth your weaknesses. you let the angel guide you, with the promise of happiness.
he pulled away from your body, and you whined at the loss of his warmth. “Shush, my dear. You look so much better like this.” His eyes roamed your body, alight with passion and admiration. “Humans were always meant to be bare. They were meant to submit. Here you are, fulfilling your divine purpose. You’re already on the right track.”
“like… this?” you could hardly believe that something so right could cause you to feel so embarrassed.
“Do you not remember how you were in the Garden of Eden? I shall return you to that purity. Worry not, my dear, for you were also humiliated after the Fall.”
“well… what about you?” you said, now able to reach for his clothes.
the angel flicked your hands away once again. “Have patience, lamb. All will come in due time.”
his head, once resting in the crook of your neck now dives down, where you were just begging him to touch a moment ago. he licks teasingly at your tip, refusing to give you the exact pleasure you want.
you’re tempted to buck into his mouth, hands fisting at the cloth of the altar. you sighed at the feeling of finally having some friction against your aching arousal. however, you knew he’d take it away as soon as you tried to reach your own high.
he removed his lips from your erection temporarily, and a grin pulled at his lips. “Notice how it is not that difficult? You’re learning. Good boy.”
you were about to whine, but he immediately shut you up, taking you deep into his mouth and directly contradicting his earlier actions. his eyes met yours, bearing the color and passion of swirling storm clouds.
similarly, his tongue swirled around your length, switching between flicking your tip and licking long stripes underneath. it was hard to flush at the look he was giving when you couldn’t see it, since your head had tossed back in ecstasy.
as you looked to the sky and met eyes with the saints, you wondered how god would see this. you were moaning like a whore on an altar of worship. engaging in such behavior with a sacred creature had to be sinful in some way. for some strange reason, the thought only aroused you more.
however, the angel had initiated the encounter himself, and claimed he was sent for this. had god seen your desires and decided to be merciful? this notion was less comforting than you thought it might be.
surely, this angel get mad at you for perverting what was meant to be a purification ritual. he would see you sin for what it is: something immedicable. the idea of being scolded pushed you nearly to the edge-
“Do you truly believe you deserve to cum when you think things such as that?” your head shot up as he cruelly pulled off of you, taking away the friction your body so desperately craved.
“what? i-i don’t know what you’re talking about…” you stuttered, pathetically eager to reach the high that has been ripped away from you.
“Don’t lie to me. You know you can’t.”
you were opening your mouth to speak, but your breath caught as the angel finally disrobed. he discarded his garments carelessly behind him, and your eyes feasted on the sight of his body like a glutton. the only sound you could emit was a high whine.
without warning, the angel folded your legs up and shoved two fingers inside you. if he was as frustrated as you suspected, he didn’t let it show on his face. instead he was smiling down on you, encouraged evermore by the sounds that cascaded from your mouth.
he quickly broke this eye contact and set his sights on a new target: your chest. the angel leaned over you, further bending you in half. as he licked at one of your nipples, he pushed a third finger inside you.
your back arched and your nails scratched at his back, threatening to rip through his skin. all your senses were filled completely with him. you were still inebriated on the taste of his mouth. the shape of his halo had burned into your eyes. his fingers moved in and out of you with a wet schlik, massaging your sweet spot. he mouthed at your chest greedily, eager to drain you of every last moan he could.
you keened as the angel pushed a fourth finger inside you. he switched to your other areola, but his other hand played with the already sore one. you grasped as his wings as you were about to reach the edge, and the angel let a low groan, almost devilish in its possessiveness. he pulled out and off your chest, denying you your pleasure once again.
you wanted to cry, you wanted to cum, you wanted to be torn apart and put back together again by an angel you didn’t even know the name of. your nails dug into the bare flesh of a divine being, you wanted to make him bleed for denying you again.
“Calm down, little one. You’ll get your pleasure when I decide you deserve it.”
you couldn’t even form full sentences anymore, only fragments or whine fell from lips. any semblance of defiance died before it left your throat.
“Now, you’re about to get something much better. Hold still.”
he punctuated his sentence by thrusting deep into you, filling you up almost immediately. you let out a low moan when you realized he was still sinking into you. you knew he would be big, but you swore you could feel him in your throat.
he finally stopped, giving you a moment to breathe. the weight of him inside you was almost comforting. the only sounds in this dim place were your mixed breathing.
the angel then pulled out, leaving only his tip inside you, before slamming back in. you made a desperate noise that echoed inside the church, somewhere between a scream and a moan. your hands gripped onto his wings like they were your last lifeline as he began to pound into you.
he acted with a ferocity you didn’t know he possessed, and you were unsure if the angel was angry or extremely passionate. either way, he was ensuring you wouldn’t forget this experience.
he filled your vision, looking down at you with a grin on his face. you had no choice but to meet his eyes. “You wish to confess? Recall your sins, and by my power, I shall shrive you.”
oh. oh.
“bless me, Lord, for- ngh~” you attempted to initiate the confession, but couldn’t get through a whole sentence without moaning or stuttering. “for I have sinned- mfghh- i don’t remember my last confession-”
“Oh, dear. You truly are such an impure creature. Confess, now.” the angel said, without any real pity. he only seemed pleased, and thrusted in and out of you unceasingly.
“i-i have lusted after- mhhh- holy beings-”
one of his hands now rested over your heart. he gazed into your eyes, his own a reflection of the heavens. “Of this sin, with this kiss, I absolve you.”
his lips pressed to yours, gentle and forgiving and he stilled. his wings surrounded you in a soft cocoon. for a moment, the world slowed to a halt. for a moment, all that existed was a human, an angel, and a kiss.
a million things flashed through your mind, but at the forefront was the creation of adam. how could adam resist reaching out? how could he deny himself the pleasure of knowing divine flesh?
his lips broke away from yours, and he shushed your whining. “I have yet to give you your penance, little one. To receive full absolution, cum for me.”
he resumed his thrusts with renewed focus, and you came as soon as he gave the command. “You’re so tight, lamb,” he groaned in your ear. “You’ve done such a good job.”
he rammed into you, cumming deep inside you. the angel kissed you on your forehead, whispering, “Good night, my little lamb. I suspect I shall see you again soon.”
when you wake a few hours later, you will no longer be in the cathedral. instead, you will be in your bed, and the morning light will be pouring through your window. on your nightstand, you will find two unfamiliar objects: a necklace, the pendant of which is a feather, and a prayer card, bearing the name of an angel you’ve never heard of.
big dick!billy who loves having you sit on his lap because he knows you can feel him through his pants
big dick!billy who filmed you the first time he fucked you so he’ll always have the memory of the first time he stretched you out around him. a tape of your body quivering, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, his cock stuffed in you to the hilt, and your hands clutching at the sheets on his bed.
big dick!billy who keeps a photo of your stomach in his wallet. a bulge in your belly showing how deep he’s buried in you.
big dick!billy who loves seeing you cry and pout around his cock when you can’t take him all the way down your throat. he assures you that it’s okay and wraps your hand around his base and even that barely works
big dick!billy who can’t help but chuckle as he watches you try to sink yourself down onto his dick. his seat pushed back to accompany for you on top of him, slowly sucking him in inch by inch. your face contorting as you take him in and he can’t help but bite his bottom lip to hold back his grin. he thinks it’s cute how much you struggle to take him by yourself. and he’s more than happy to help you down when you ask, after teasing you, of course. he waste no time slamming you down on his cock.
cw/an: NSFW, penetrative sex, dirty talk/praise, spitting, light dom/sub dynamics, sub/bottom reader, reader is written as AFAB but reader's gender is not mentioned. this shit is fucking nasty but also sweet so enjoy :)
Enjin likes to take his sweet time with you. Acting as a mentor and leader doesn't reward the cleaner with much, let alone time that's just his, and even less time that belongs with you (he knows that he's been neglecting you lately, especially ever since Rudo showed up; you don't have to say it out loud for it to sit heavy in his chest). So when it comes to fucking you, like now, he wants to take it nice and slow. He wants you to feel every inch and vein of his cock as he invades your warm entrance.
"Fuckin' hell, baby," Enjin breathes hotly against your ear, his blond locks brushing against your cheek as he drops his head onto your shoulder, moaning at the way you clench around his length. "So tight already," he murmurs, amused. "Let me in would ya?"
You moan when he pushes in deeper, the stretch slow enough to make it burn just a little. It's humiliating how wet you are right now, how easily your body gives you away to him, already so slick and eager for days of wanting him. Of course, Enjin notices. He always does. "God," he laughs under his breath, "you're soaked. That's so cute, baby." He drags a thick finger through your folds, unhurried, letting you feel every pass while his cock continues to sink into you. He takes his slick coated finger to rub at your puffed up clit, tracing lazy circles that make your knees weak and pussy clench. "So sweet," he coos, "such a sweet fucking pussy, all wet for me too."
There's no hiding how much you've missed Enjin. You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your flushed face into his shoulder. "Please, 'Jin," you whine, and he hums, satisfied, pulling back just enough to give you shallow thrusts, teasing you by sliding out and pushing back in at a maddening slow pace. "Please what?" He asks softly. "Can't give you what you want if you don't tell me, hon." Your stomach sinks with every slow drag of his cock. Enjin starts to move faster, just a little, just enough to make you beg. "Harder, 'Jin, please. Need you to fuck me harder."
And he does, lifting one of your legs slightly to adjust the angle of his hips, the head of his cock kissing that sweet spot inside you with brutal precision, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs. "Such a greedy fuckin' cunt," Enjin rasps, enjoying the way your chest heaves, the way your body reacts to him so perfectly. His thrusts become faster, deeper, his balls slapping against your ass with each snap of his hips. "But you deserve it, don't you baby?" He continues. "So fucking forgiving, even though I haven't been givin' it to you like you wanted."
He cups your face in his firm hands, and spits into your waiting mouth before sealing your lips together, his tongue hot and demanding as your pussy spasms around his cock. "You gonna cum now, sweetheart?" Your nails dig into his muscular back as he drives into you, the pressure coiling tight inside your stomach. "Cum as many times as you need, baby," he slurs against your mouth, "we've got the whole night to ourselves."
Synopsis: After finding about Leon’s whereabouts, you took it upon yourself to travel back to the ruins of Raccoon City. Hoping to be with the man that you love, even if it was for the last time
Tags: fluff, slight angst, slight action, smút with plot, smitten Leon, flirty Leon, clingy Leon, horny Leon, older Leon, older reader, Top Leon, Bottom Reader
Reader is Jill Valentine’s brother. No use of Y/N.
Event takes place during Resident Evil: Requiem
You can read the prequel here
Author’s note at the end :)
————————————————————————
“Copy that.”
Sherry signed off before leaning back on her chair with a tired sigh. She hoped Leon would be okay heading towards the Raccoon City Police Department on his own.
The sound of the floor squeaking behind her, makes her immediately stand up and turn around with her gun out before lowering it when she saw who it was.
“What are you doing here?” Sherry asked.
You gave Sherry an unimpressed look, folding your arms. “Neat place to hide but for someone who’s been agent for so long, you’d think you would turn off your ‘find my phone’ function so I wouldn’t find you on my gps.”
Sherry gasped, taking her phone out and realising that you were right. She shook her head defiantly as her eyes caught sight of the black veins on your neck. “You should be resting.”
“So should you.” You countered, getting a scoff from the other woman.
Sherry shook her head. “It’s fine. My regenerative abilities from the G-Virus have been keeping the infection at bay.”
“Yet you’re downing meds that would easily take down an elephant.” Your tone shifting to a softer one before you took a step towards her, patting her on the head as if she was the same child you and the others had saved so many years ago.
Sherry chuckled, lightly slapping your hand away from her head. “So did you come here to just check up on me?”
“Yes and no,” You mused as you took your phone out with a frown on your face. “Where is he, Sherry? He hasn’t been returning my calls or texts and it’s been a couple of days.”
Sherry worried on her bottom lip, unsure if telling you the truth would further upset you or bring you some sort of comfort knowing where Leon was.
“Okay,” Sherry sighed. “But promise you won’t get mad.”
“Promise.” You replied to her, not knowing what you were going to hear next was going to change your whole direction for the rest of the day.
~~~~~
“Now what the hell did I just walk into?”
You whispered to yourself after watching a scientist with snake like skin and tentacles for an arm decapitate another man while a platinum blonde haired woman was shielding an unconscious Leon on the floor after getting pierced in the side by the scientist.
“Hey!” You drew your gun out, catching the attention of everyone else except for Leon before the woman turned back and injected Leon with some kind of serum.
“It’s working,” The woman panted out. “Leon, it’s working wake up!”
You dragged your eyes away from the two on the floor, your gun still aimed at the scientist but the man pays you no mind as he walked up to a panel in the middle of the platform and pressed a few buttons.
“Now. Let it all come down,” The scientist turned to you, before raising his hand that was holding another serum. “All of it.”
“What?” You asked out loud, still unsure of what was fully happening.
“Grace, what happened?” Leon’s voice caught your attention before you ducked and rolled at the last second when the scientist swiped his tentacled arm at you.
Leon’s eyes meets yours in a hazy confusion before he gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
Grace watched the both of you, still holding on to her side where she was wounded.
“Oh you know,” You panted out, feeling the effects of the mutating t-virus furthering your fatigue. “I was revisiting memories of our adventures in this lab.”
Leon quickly crawled to you, softly cradling your face as he saw the dark veins had spread to your chin. “We need to get you that cure.”
The whole place shakes, debris falling everywhere and the platforms tips before falling off to the side.
“It’s gonna go!” Leon yelled out, immediately gathering you into his arms. “Grab something!”
You, Leon and Grace then fell off the toppling platform and to the floor below, Grace yelling out while you and Leon stumbled onto the floor.
Leon supporting you the entire time so you didn’t hurt yourself when you landed, slightly amazed by the other man’s renewed strength.
Leon hugged you close to his body when the remainder of the previous platform fell to the floor that the both of you were on.
“Grace?” Leon looked around with you, calling out for Grace. “Grace!”
The both of you then turned your heads to see Gideon walk up to the both of you, Leon shielding you with his body as he took a step forward.
“Go find Grace.” Leon told you, making you nod as you quickly ducked away before Leon turned his attention to Gideon. “Time to bury umbrella’s last skeleton.”
You searched around the mess, hearing Leon fight off Gideon in the background before you saw Grace’s unconscious body on the floor.
“Grace!” You called out to her as you dropped to your knees and patted her softly on the face. “Come on, it’s not nap time yet.”
Grace let out a groan as she came back to her senses before sitting up and looking at you in confusion as her eyes fell on the dark veins on your neck. “Wait, you’re infected too? Who are you?”
The sound of Gideon yelling and what seemed to be electricity catches the two of you off guard before you turned back to her questioning gaze. “I’m the husband of the man you saved with that cure.”
“Husband? Wow, his dad jokes suddenly make a lot of sense.” Grace panted out, making you chuckle.
You shook your head. “His dad jokes have been around since I met him here in Raccoon City, twenty-eight years ago.”
You hear Gideon let out a defeated wail and got up to see the scientist fall off the platform.
“Good riddance.” Leon muttered before turning his head to look for you and sighing in relief when your eyes locked in with his.
Grace stood next to you, halting you from going to Leon. “Wait! You need this.”
You turned to her in confusion, only to flinch when she injected you with the cure and you gasped feeling the weight of the illness suddenly leave your body.
You saw Leon grin before the both of you whipped your heads at the edge where Gideon fell off at the sound of something massive moving from below.
“Grace, go and find someplace safe to hide. I have a feeling we’re not done yet.” You advised Grace, who nodded before running away to hide behind some debris.
You jogged up to Leon, picking up the rocket launcher that was conveniently left on the floor and then accepting the kiss on the cheek that he gave you.
Leon sighed happily, noticing the black veins on your neck now gone. “You’re cured.”
The both of you turned when giant tentacles and claws latch to the side of the platform as a giant monster rose up from the ground, its unbelievable size taking up half of the room.
Leon grabbed and covered you with his body when the monster lands on the platform, grunting when the impact caused a gush of wind to rush at the both of you.
“A nemesis,” Leon said as he looked up at the hideous creature. “No wonder, he was so damn relentless.”
“Yeah, well when there’s a nemesis…” You trailed off, lifting the rocket launcher up.
Leon turned his head to you with an amused smile. “There’s a Valentine ready to take it down.”
“It’s Kennedy now, I got married.” You winked at Leon.
Leon shook his head with a chuckle. “I really am the luckiest man alive.”
The new nemesis roared, forcing the both of you turn to it with your weapons out.
“Cover me?” Leon breathed out.
You grinned, aiming the rocket launcher towards the monster. “Always.”
~~~~~
“How’s Claire and the others?”
You asked one of the members of Chris’ team, The Hound Wolf Squad.
The man nodded, a good sign. “Captain Redfield says everyone’s currently stable and still resting.”
You smiled, handing the man some of the antivirals. “These should be enough for Claire, Carlos, Ada and Jill. Make sure to pass the remainders to Rebecca to replicate the cure. Oh and tell Jill that I’m fine, the cure worked and that I’ll see my sister when I come back.”
“Yes sir.” The man responded before walking away.
A familiar set of strong arms circled your waist from behind, the front of Leon’s body leaned onto your back as the man burrowed his face into your neck with a deep sigh.
You patted the side of Leon’s face before kissing the hinge of his jaw. “How are you holding up? You’ve been gone for quite awhile.”
“I’m sorry,” Leon replied, his voice slightly muffled. “I should’ve told you where I was going but we were running out of time.”
“Hey, you had to do something with whatever was at your disposal. Sherry was the one who told me by the way, so don’t get mad at her.” You told Leon, the man grumbled unhappily.
Leon groaned, removing his face from your neck as he turned you around so the both of you were facing each other. “I much preferred if you hadn’t put yourself through hell to find me but I’m happy that you’re here with me now.”
“Between you and Grace, I pretty much sailed through everything and it was all worth it you know?” You told Leon, making the man’s head tilt in question.
You sighed, leaning your body toward his. “It didn’t matter if we were able to find a cure or not, I would’ve fought to be by your side even till the very end.”
Leon smiled warmly at you, resting his forehead against yours. “Well we don’t have to think about that now, it’s all in the past.”
“Yeah well, speaking of the past. I found a letter that was written by Marvin’s daughter and I felt like shit remembering what Marvin told me at the station way back then while I was alone with him before he turned.” You worried your bottom lip, trying not to tear up.
Leon’s hand cradled the side of your face, he tilted his head to kiss your forehead while he shushed you softly. “It’s okay baby, it wasn’t easy for me too when I walked back into the station and the events of that night replayed in my mind.”
“We should’ve died but we didn’t.” You muttered, feeling the downturn of Leon’s lips on your forehead.
Leon leaned back, his eyes boring into yours with a sense of determination. “You’re right but we were given the chance to live so we should continue to honour them by fighting the fight however we can.”
“I love you.” You sniffled, getting a comforting kiss from the other man.
Leon pulled back with a soft smile. “I love you more. There’s nobody in this life that I’d go through all of this with.”
You smiled before your eyes shifted to Grace sitting by her lonesome on one of the helicopters that the squad had arrived on.
You took out one of the antivirals out of your pocket before handing it to Leon. “Tell Sherry we got one for her too, I’ll go check on Grace.”
Leon nodded before tapping on his earpiece to inform Sherry of the good news as you walked over to Grace.
“Grace.” You called out to her, the other woman looking up at you with a small smile.
Grace sighed. “Hey, looks like you’re doing well.”
“You mind?” You pointed to the space next to her, Grace shaking her head as she scooted over to let you sit.
You sighed, glancing at her with a comforting smile. “Your last name’s Ashcroft right? I knew your mom before she passed.”
“You were friends with my mom?” Grace stuttered slightly, seeing you shake your head in response.
You sighed. “We weren’t close, I met her in passing when I was still working for the government. What she uncovered and did in exposing Umbrella back then was an insane feat, she was a very brave woman.”
“Yeah, she was. I miss her.” Grace’s voice trailed off.
You bumped your shoulder with hers. “You’ll get through this, thank you for being brave on your own. You saved my husband.”
Grace opened her mouth and was about to respond when Leon’s voice interrupted her.
“It’s over then.” Leon walked up to the both of you with a small smile.
“Yeah,” Grace smiled back. “Elpis was really our last hope.”
“Well let’s pray Umbrella hasn’t left us any more nasty surprises.” Leon replied, winking at you and getting an eye roll from you in response.
Grace shook her head and sighed. “I wish we could’ve saved Emily.”
“Grace,” Leon walked up to Grace, making her look up at him. “I didn’t hit any of her vitals. She should still be alive.”
“What are you saying?” Grace asked Leon with a hopeful expression.
Leon gives her a comforting smile. “Maybe we can save her.”
Grace was almost in disbelief, her face contorting to a relieved smile before turning to look at you when you shoved another antiviral into her hand.
“This is the last one.” You smiled at Grace before taking Leon’s outstretched hand as the both of you walked off, letting Grace process everything by herself.
Leon lets go of your hand before removing the glove off his left hand and then procuring his wedding ring from his pocket to slip it onto his ring finger. “Feels good to have this on me again, I’m happy that I didn’t lose it.”
“You lost your jacket though.” You pointed out in amusement as Leon grabbed your hand with his to hold.
Leon shrugged. “It was more to cover up the virus spreading anyways.”
“Well, I’m not complaining. I appreciate the tight shirt over all your muscles. Your butt looks good in those pants by the way.” You told Leon, the man turning his head to you in surprise when you pinched one of his cheeks.
Leon lets out a low chuckle. “Seems like the antiviral did more than just healed us. Let’s go home and let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
“Lead the way then, Mr Kennedy.” You giggled.
Leon grinned. “Of course, Mr Kennedy.”
~~~~~
“Oh fuck, Leon.”
You whined as Leon took more of your length into his mouth. The both of you were now at home in your bedroom, Leon lying comfortably in between your legs.
Leon released your cock from his mouth with an audible pop before kissing and nibbling the skin of your inner thighs, making your hips stutter in pleasure as Leon’s hands were forcing them down on the mattress.
“Be patient, baby.” Leon muttered against your thigh before lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders so he was face to face with your awaiting hole.
Leon’s tongue teases your hole, the slick tip circling your rim before dipping into the crevice but not immediately pushing in.
You hissed, Leon had been teasing you for an hour straight. The man’s mouth having marked every part of your body, especially on your chest where he was practically nursing on your nipples for the better half of that hour.
You got a chuckle from Leon when you tapped the heel of your foot on his shoulder.
Leon took the hint, dipping his tongue into you with a hungry moan that made you throw your head back with a whimper when your husband began to fuck you with his tongue.
You felt the tip of Leon’s sharp nose resting against your taint as he pushed his tongue deeper into you, coating your walls with his saliva and groaning when you squeezed his tongue with your hole.
Once your hole was loose enough by the combination of Leon’s tongue and fingers, your husband lined up his cock with your hole before he slowly pushed himself in.
Leon huffed out a sigh of satisfaction, his eyes closed as he pushed himself deeper inside you while you were whimpering at his sheer girth.
“We’ve been together for twenty-eight years and you’re still as tight as the first time we did this.” Leon told you, leaning his head down to kiss you on the lips as his hips slowly gyrate. His cock going deeper in you, causing you to let out whimper against his lips that he greedily swallowed.
This was Leon’s favourite position, having to be able to see you as he fucked you. Your arms clinging onto his broad back, your attention fully on him as he continued to drive his cock into your warmth.
You let out tiny whimpers when Leon began to pick up the pace, his thrusting pelvis audibly smacking against your ass.
“I love you, I love you, I love you…” Leon muttered, mouthing against your neck and jaw before capturing your lips with his in a bruising kiss.
You knew Leon loved it when your senses were overwhelmed by him. Your eyes only focused on his face, your mouth preoccupied by his, your hands clinging onto his back, the smell of his musk filling up your nostrils and the sound of his gravelly voice in your ears.
Leon’s version of making love meant that the whole world was silent, only the harmonic sounds of your intertwined bodies were present.
“Leon,” You panted, feeling the familiar heat in your gut rising. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
Leon chuckled, biting at the hinge of your jaw as he tilted his hips just enough so his cock was hitting your prostate.
“That’s right baby, you only cum when I’m inside you. You only cum because of me.” Leon muttered, driving his hips faster into you with renewed intensity.
You couldn’t help but to moan and whimper your husband’s name over and over again, your fingernails scratching Leon’s back with every thrust he gave you.
“Oh fuck, Leon.” You cried out as you spilled in between your and Leon’s sweaty bodies, making the other man whimper when the intensity of your release squeezed his cock.
Leon’s thrust suddenly became erratic, the man trying his best not to lose control as he pummelled into you. “Baby, you almost made me came just from that.”
You smirked, your hands moving from Leon’s back to hold his face so you could force him to look at you.
You pushed his sweaty bangs from his face so his eyes met yours. “I want you to fill me up with your babies.”
Leon was caught off guard by your words before groaning in surprise when you suddenly turned your bodies over so you were straddling his lap while his dick was still lodged inside you.
You licked your lips at the sight of your husband’s glistening and sweaty muscles, getting a short cry when you squeezed his cock with your hole.
You then leaned back, your hands resting on Leon’s large thighs as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Leon’s hands immediately grabbing your hips, his cock dragging within your walls as you continuously lifted yourself up before plopping back down on his lap.
You repeated the process, riding Leon and savouring the man’s moans and whimpers after he had his fun by taking care of your needs first.
Your husband was a considerate lover to say the least.
Leon suddenly shot up from his laid back position on the bed, his arms wrapping themselves around your middle with him mouthing against your chest, indicating that he was getting close.
You squeezed his cock with your hole once again and Leon let out a cry as he spilled his warm seed into you, his body twitching as you continued to squeeze his cock to milk him dry while you were still on his lap.
Leon stayed still, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You feel his warm and heavy panting on your skin as you softly caressed the back of his head, your lips kissing the crown of his head.
“You good?” You asked Leon, getting a wet chuckle from your husband as he pulled away from your neck to look up at you adoringly.
Leon sighed. “I feel amazing every single time I get to be inside you.”
“I’ll never know how you can turn such a dirty sentence into the sappiest line I’ve ever heard.” You mused, chuckling with Leon as he kissed your exposed collarbone.
Leon huffed. “I love you so much.”
You pulled away, smiling sweetly down at him before leaning back down to peck him on the lips. “I love you more.”
“Not possible.” Leon replied before turning your bodies around so you were lying on the bed, his cock slipping out of your hole before you laughed as the man peppered kisses all over your face.
“Round two?” You breathed out, looking up at Leon’s dilated eyes as he lowered his body on top of yours.
Leon nipped at your jaw, a smirk forming on his face. “Thought you’d never ask.”
*****
Author’s note:
My first smutty Leon fic!
As much as I wanted to write Leon based on the timeline of the games, I simply couldn’t help but write for the older version of him
Might just write more fluff on Leon in the future, this was really fun
Content warning: mature content [minors dni], sub bottom reader, significant age gap [early 20s x mid 40s], power imbalance, brat taming, hand job, breath play, slight degradation, reader comes twice, kind of clothed sex, brief hair pulling, a single mention of manhandling and of spanking, implied transactional sex, implied risky sex, sex without feelings, written in third person
Author’s note: First work here. I’m an amateur author who writes considerably poorly and produces third-class smut only. Did not proof read. Despite all of this, I hope some people can at least enjoy this a little. Don’t be afraid to give it a try!
I doubt anyone who does read this will notice it either, but I wanted to point out that the title is a reference to an homonym song by 5FDP. Lyrics somewhat related to the story :)
Word count: >5800
The man’s office was different from the rest of the VFMP headquarters: darker and clinical, as if it belonged to an era when men still bled for their tenets and carried remorse in their hearts. Etched into the frosted glass of the front door, the inscription ‘Captain Silas Palmer’ was still discernible despite the few scratches.
The official sat behind his desk, the worn wood creaking under his weight as he leaned back in the chair. The room was a reflection of its owner, cluttered and tired, with stacks of papers and empty, disposable coffee mugs littering every surface. The only thing that stood out was a framed photo of a much younger Silas in uniform, filled with mirch and pride while standing next to the then-mayor. That had been a lifetime ago, before the city had chewed him up and spat him out.
The captain was just about to pour himself another finger of whiskey, a nightly ritual to numb the ache in his bones, when he heard the hesitant knock at his office door. He set the glass down with an exhausted sigh, voice coming out in a grunt, "Come in, it's open."
The door creaked open slowly, revealing a man in his early twenties. He was dressed in a way that was somewhere between fashionable and disheveled, with a leather jacket that had seen better days and a pair of jeans that clung to his frame in all the right places.
"Evening, Captain," the young man said, his voice a contrast to Silas' own, smooth and untainted by age. He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
The older man leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he appraised the newcomer. "[Name]," he acknowledged with a nod, taking in the way the boy's jacket hugged his shoulders, the way his jeans rode low on his hips. He was a pretty, Silas could admit that to himself, too pretty for his own good. But there was a sharpness to him, a glint in those eyes that was both pretentious and calculating. “You’re late.”
The informant rolled his shoulders once, fingers finding the edge of his sleeve and worrying the fabric. The office felt smaller than usual, the air, thicker. "Not late," he said, voice steady and calm, meeting Palmer’s gaze directly. "Just on time. You said evening, and it's...", he glanced briefly at the old clock on the wall, "...nine o'clock on the dot. Got a lead," [Name] continued, unbothered with pleasantries. "Something bigger than the usual shit. Thought you might want to know."
The lad’s posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was a tension in his shoulders, a constantly unreleased energy. He didn't sit down, not until Silas told him to. "Gang activity's picking up in the 9th. The Hounds and the Drowned are at each other's throats again." [Name] shrugged. "Same old song. But there are new ones in town, calling themselves the Wraiths. Word is that they ain’t fucking around. Already took out two Drowned safe houses and the Hounds are scrambling to keep up with their narcotics. There's going to be a war for territory soon around the docks if someone doesn't step in."
"Haven't heard of them until now," Silas commented, leaning back in his chair. Smoke curled from the recently lit cigar between his fingers, drifting up to catch in the stale air of the office. "New players don't last long in this city."
"These ones might," [Name] countered. "They're not stupid, nor careless. They're not leaving tracks." He paused before adding, "Yet."
The captain tapped the cigar against the ashtray, watching the informant carefully. "You think you can find them before they notice you?"
[Name] shrugged, a slight lift of his shoulders. "Never said I couldn’t." He stepped closer to the desk, until he stood right in front of it, looking down at the older man. There was no hesitation in his eyes, only a quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance. “If I can find them," the informant said with an unraveling voice, "I can take them down before they become a real problem." He stopped, "For a price."
Silas’ eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression didn't change, gaze puncturing the lad all the same. He studied [Name] for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. “You're getting greedy," the captain blurted.
[Name] didn't falter. Didn't look away. He just met Palmer’s gaze head-on. "Greedy?" he repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I prefer the term 'ambitious'. Besides, I thought we had an arrangement. I brought you what you need, now you should keep me safe and well-paid." He tilted his head slightly while a faint smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Or have you forgotten our little deal?"
Silas took a long drag of his cigar, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly. The acrid scent filled the air between them, but [Name] didn't so much as cough. He just stood there, staring down at the captain, waiting. “No one's forgotten anything," Palmer admitted finally. "But these aren't your usual bottom-feeders. If these Wraiths are as smart as you say, they're not going to be easy to flush out."
He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, hands clasped. His eyes bored into the informant, searching, assessing. "And you want more money for it. More than our usual deal. Tell me, boy," Silas stated imperiously, "what makes you think you're worth it? What makes you think you can do something my own, official men can't? Because from where I'm sitting, you're just a kid playing in a man's game. A brat who's in over his head." The captain’s voice dropped to a near whisper, but it was no less threatening. "And I’m having a hard time believing a little punk like you is the key to shutting down a gang that's flying under the radar of the entire VFMP after you were nearly caught last time."
“But I wasn’t.” [Name] interjected, mischief in his eyes as he fixated on the older man’s hard stare. "And I’m not a kid when you're balls-deep inside me, Cap. I think that proves I'm not just some random little punk."
Palmer’s eyes flashed, a flicker of surprise and something darker, more primal. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his cheeks tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. The air between them grew heavier, charged with a sudden tension that had nothing to do with the threat of the Wraiths.
[Name] stood his ground. "I'm not here to blow smoke," he proceeded still calm but with an undercurrent of something defiant. "I'm here to make a problem disappear before it becomes your problem, and I’m damn good at what I do.”
The informant rested his palms on the the edge of the desk, slender fingers sprawling. “I've been doing this since before you promoted half your men to sergeant. I've got a nose for this shit, and you’re well aware that I know how to use it. I'm not afraid of some new gang wannabes with big goals and small brains.” He leaned forward slightly, face inches from his superior’s. "I'm not a punk, and certainly not a toddler. I'm your best fucking asset in this city and you better remind yourself of that. So what's it going to be, Cap? Will you keep underestimating me, or will you let me do what I do best and watch these Wraiths burn in exchange of a few more bucks?"
Palmer’s face stayed hard, but his expression had a small change, something indicating a feeling that wavered between anger and respect. “Cocky bastard," Silas muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words. His eyes took in the set of [Name]’s jaw, the challenge in his eyes. He couldn't deny the kid — no, not a kid, the man —had balls. He'd give him that much. “You've still got that smart mouth on you… and a head full of shit if you think I don't know what you are." Silas inclined his torso forward causing his nose to nearly touch the informant’s own. "But you're right about one thing, you are good at what you do."
[Name] crossed his arms over his chest, his posture casual. “I'm not here to fuck up, Cap. I'm here to get the job done. And I always do. I've never given you a reason to doubt me before, so don’t start now."
Palmer had to admit that all that arrogance was nothing more than hard-won confidence, something [Name] earned it. He'd watched the informant claw his way up from nothing, watched him take on jobs that would have broken a lesser man. And he'd delivered, every single time. Closed cases, brought in intel, kept the gangs in check and kept Veridian Falls from descending into complete chaos.
And through it all, he'd kept coming back to Silas’ office, to Silas’ bed, with a hunger that never seemed to be sated. At first, the captain had told himself it was just a stress relief, a way to blow off steam after a long day of dealing with the city's endless problems. But he couldn't deny the attraction that had been evoked right in beginning, the way [Name]’s wit and sharp tongue had set his blood on fire in a way no one else ever had in the moment they met.
[Name] smirked smugly, resting his elbows on the desk. "You know, Palmer," he purred lowly, "you've got that look on your face again. The one that says you're trying to figure out if you want to maul me or fuck me senseless."
Silas had always known the brat was a smart-ass, but he'd never been one to mince words, especially not when they were alone like this. And god help him, but the older man found that infuriating bravado of his the hottest fucking thing in the world. He took another long drag of his cigar, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly. "Careful, kid," the captain snarled, “Keep talking like that, and you might just get what you're asking for."
Palmer, despite his words, knew that he was giving in. Knew that as much as he tried to deny it, as much as he told himself he was just a man with needs and desires like anyone else, he couldn't ignore the fact that [Name] brought something out in him. A hunger, a desperation, a feeling of being seen and wanted in a way no one else ever had. Silas had fucked the informant more times than he could count, had buried himself inside that tight ass and lost himself in the sounds of pleasure he could coax from that clever mouth of his. And every time, he'd told himself it was just detached sex. But he couldn't deny the way thr young lad looked at him, with that mix of respect and awe, like he saw something in Palmer that no one else ever had. His savior. And nothing in the world could get the captain as hard as that look of admiration in [Name]’s eyes.
The informant smirked wider. "Is that a promise or a threat, Cap?" he asked polished. "Because I gotta say, I'm not scared of either one." [Name] reached out, bold as brass, and plucked the cigar from between Palmer’s fingers. He took a long, slow drag, his eyes never leaving Silas’ as he did. The smoke curled from his lips as he exhaled, a haze of gray that seemed to blur the room.
"You know, you're not as tough as you used to be. Or maybe..." [Name] leaned in, his breath hot against Silas’ ear. "Maybe I'm just not as afraid of you as I once were." His hand came to rest on his superior’s thigh, fingers splaying over the fabric of his pants, stomach laying across the desk. The young man could feel the heat of the captain, the solid muscle beneath the cloth. He could feel the way Palmer’s breath hitched, just slightly, at his touch. Tentatively, [Name] threw the cig to the ground and pressed his thumb down on that sensitive spot on the inside of Silas’ thigh, applying just enough pressure to make the older man twitch.
At that, the chief groaned. Palmer knew the little shit was enjoying this, relishing in the way he could make the big bad captain of the Veridian Falls Metropolitan Police lose his composure with just a touch and a few well-chosen words.
Just then, Silas’ hand shot out, grabbing [Name]’s wrist in a grip tight enough to make him wince, then yanking him forward until the younger man stumbled, stomach slamming against the surface of the desk. The informant let out a grunt at the impact, but Palmer didn't give him a chance to recover, his other hand already fisting in the hair at the nape of the lad’s neck. He used his grip to pull [Name]’s head towards his lips before leaning in and devouring his mouth in a brutal kiss.
The captain’s tongue pushed past the boy’s lips, claiming every inch of that playful mouth that had been taunting him moments before. He kissed him like he wanted to consume the man before him, to make him forget his own name let alone any foolish boldness. [Name] moaned breathily into the kiss, the sound vibrating against Palmer’s lips, spurring the older man on. Silas used the grip on [Name]’s hair to pull him further over the desk, until the young man was bent in half, ass tilted up perfectly for anyone who dared intrude on the captain’s office.
The brusque move had [Name]’s cock stiffening rapidly in the confines of his jeans. The rough fabric rubbed against his sensitive flesh as he squirmed beneath the captain's iron grip on his nape, the friction sending jolts of pleasure shooting up his spine. He could feel every ridge and groove of the wooden desk pressing into his gut as the hard surface contrasted with the molten heat building in his kernel.
[Name]’s hips began to move on their own, grinding his clothed erection against the desk as he kissed Palmer back with a desperate fervor. He couldn't help it. The captain's touch, the taste of nicotine in his oral cavity, the sheer dominance of him, it all combined to set the informant’s blood on fire, to make him ache with need and his hole to clench around air. He just knew he needed more of Silas’ touch, more of the way he made [Name] feel alive in a way no one else ever had, with utmost pleasure.
Soon enough, Palmer felt the rocky movement of the informant’s body against his desk, the rhythmic grinding of his clothed penis against the wood. He pulled back from the kiss, his grip on [Name]’s neck tightening as he took in the sight of the boy wantonly rutting against his desk, desperate for friction.
The captain grimaced. “Greedy little brat. Is that all you can think about? Getting your dicklet wet?" He punctuated his words with a sharp tug on [Name]’s hair, forcing the younger man's head to tilt to the side, baring the slender column of his throat. "You think you can just take what you want, when you want it? Hump against my desk like a bitch in heat?"
[Name] didn't let the admonishment deter him, not when his cock was throbbing so hard it ached, not when the desk below him seemed to be the only thing holding him back from losing control and throwing himself over Silas like a frenzied five-dollars harlot. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Palmer’s earlobe between his teeth. He bit down hard enough to break skin as he, simultaneously, rolled his hips again, scrapping his penis against the desk with an obscene moan.
"Well, if the captain would rather I grind on his own cock instead… I'd be more than happy to oblige." He emphasized his words with another roll of his pelvis, a smirk tugging at his kiss-swollen lips as he saw Palmer falter. "Though I suppose this is a nice preview of what's to come. Isn't that right, sir?"
"And to think I've been trying to teach you some discipline." Silas snarled before licking a stripe up the informant’s throat, teeth grazing his skin before he bit down, hard enough to drawl blood. Without warning, he released [Name]’s hair and stepped back. "Don't move," he commanded, leaving no room for disobedient remarks. He waited just long enough to ensure the brat would comply before he rose from his chair with a creak of leather and wood.
[Name] couldn't suppress a shiver of anticipation as he watched the Palmer stride around the desk with purposeful steps, wicked thoughts filling his mind and making his dick throb painfully.
Silas came to stand behind [Name]’s bent form, his broad frame looming over the informant, casting him in shadow. Without ceremony, the captain grabbed the waistband of the younger’s trousers and underwear, grip unyielding. With a sharp, jerky motion, he yanked them down over the curve of [Name]’s ass, the fabric catching for a moment before settling on his upper thighs, leaving the globes exposed.
The informant’s breath hitched as he felt the first brush of Palmer’s calloused palm against the soft skin of his exposed ass. The captain's hand seemed to linger reverently, as he caressed the curve of the right cheek, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh. But before [Name] could lose himself in the sensation, a sharp crack split the air as a strong hand suddenly pulled back and smacked hard against the flesh. The informant gasped at the sudden sting body jerking forward at the impact before settling back onto the desk.
[Name]’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt the captain's hand wrap around his aching length, Silas’ thumb rubbed firm circles over the sensitive head of his cock, teasing the slit, the ridge, the weeping tip until the younger man was squirming with need. At the same time, the chief’s clothed cock pressed against the cleft of [Name]’s ass, and it didn’t take long for the captain to rock his hips forward, rubbing his virile member against the cheeks with a deliberate grind that made the informant's toes curl in his shoes.
With a feral growl, Palmer pressed two fingers against that tight and puckered hole that clenched around air, rubbing firm circles around the entrance until [Name] was pushing back against him, silently begging for more. Without warning, he thrusted his fingers inside, sinking knuckle-deep into the clutching heat of the lad’s ass. The informant let out a choked cry, back arching as he was suddenly filled, stretched around the intrusion. But he wasn’t given time to adjust, Silas’ fingers pumping in and out of his anus in a relentless rhythm that had him seeing stars.
At the same time, the chief never let up the punishing pace of his hand on the little prick’s cock. Silas could feel it throbbing, pulsing in his grip, the head a slick mess. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, smearing the pre-cum around the swollen head, using it as lubrication as he jerked his subordinate off with ruthless efficiency.
It only took a matter of moments before [Name] let out a guttural moan, body seizing up as his orgasm crashed over him like a tide. His dick jerked and spasmed in Palmer’s grip, thick ropes of cum splattering across the captain's palm. Silas felt the hot, sticky essence of the brat’s release coating his fingers, some of it dripping down to pool on the surface of the desk. With his lips curling, he pulled his fingers from [Name]’s member, bringing his hand up to the informant's face.
"Look at this mess you've made," Palmer mocked amusedly. "You should wear a red clown nose, considering how often you make a spectacle of yourself." He rubbed his slick, cum-stained fingers under his subordinate’s chin, smearing the seed across the younger man's skin. Then with a casual, almost dismissive motion, he wiped his fingers clean on the informant's shirt, smearing the sticky essence across the flimsy material until it was nothing more than a damp patch on [Name]’s chest.
The sensation of his shirt suddenly clinging to his skin seemed to partially pull [Name] off his high. "My, my, Captain," he let out in a breathless rasp, "if you wanted to get me out of my shirt too, all you had to do was ask.” A soft tsk sound left his lips as his hands came to rub at the semen left on his lower face, “Of course, I suppose I should be grateful you didn't just shove that magnificent fist of yours into my mouth to clean up the mess properly.”
Before [Name] could so much as think about straightening up, Palmer’s hand was back on the nape of his neck, gripping tight and manhandling him into place, keeping him bent over the desk. "Save it,” the captain growled, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the informant’s very bones. "Don’t even think about moving. This isn't over yet."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against the shell of [Name]’s ear as he spoke, his words dripping with promise, making the informant's spent cock give a valiant twitch of interest. "You do your best work when you've been thoroughly fucked, when your ass is still loose and sloppy, your hole gaping. When the memory of my cock rearranging your guts is still fresh in your mind. Do you understand what that means, boy?”, Silas said with a sharp roll of his hips, erected penis being felt by the tender flesh of [Name]’s cheeks. “It means that, with the possible shitstorm that might brew itself with those Wraiths due to your actions, it’s better that you are properly treated like the little slut you are before you risk yourself in a suicidal venture”.
“Why have you been taking so long to get your cock out, then, captain?”, [Name] questioned slyly. "If you want me at my best, why wait until now to give me what I need? Unless..." A wicked smirk curved his reddened lips. "Unless you're getting old, and it takes you longer to get it up nicely these days. So you just remain half hard, no matter what, which also means your fingers and maybe your tongue are the few useful parts of you left. I've heard that happens to men in their... what are you again? Forty-six?"
Silas’ forehead was instantly adorned with a wrinkle, irritation visible on his eyes at the informant’s ceaseless attempts of pressing his buttons. Without warning, he wrapped a strong hand around [Name]’s throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing a challenge and have the young man hissing. At the same time, he used his other hand to undo his belt, the clink of the buckle opening sharp in the charged air between them. The informant’s eyes widened as he felt the heavy ridge of Palmer’s erected dick pressing insistently against his tender hole, the captain's pants still mostly done up, but his rigid shaft springing free from his boxers and slapping against the split of his cheeks.
The captain grunted at the contact, compressing [Name]’s windpipe a bit tighter in response. “Try to breath”, he commanded leaving no room for indiscipline. At the same time, his other hand gripped the lad’s hips hard enough to bruise, and with one sharp thrust, he buried himself balls-deep in the exposed ass, the informant's tight heat enveloping him like a vise.
[Name]’s eyes rolled back, the breath he had left in his lungs rushed out of him in a gurgle, his throat constricted by Palmer’s punishing grip. His thighs quivered and trembled, the muscles jumping and fluttering wildly as they struggled to keep him upright, pinned as he was by the captain's relentless thrusts. Each drive of Silas’ hips pressed mercilessly against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside [Name], his prostate screaming in overstimulated bliss as it was battered again and again, feeling every ridge and vein of the thick cock filling him up.
Each whimper coming out from the body under him, each choked gasp and broken moan, only served to stoke the flames of Palmer’s own arousal. An approving groan rumbled in the captain’s chest as he felt [Name]’s clench around his pistoning cock. The obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the office, mingling with the young man’a whorish sounds and the captain's own grunts of pleasure.
The hand around [Name]’s throat tightened, squeezing, constricting, until Silas could see the tendons standing out in stark relief, could feel the informant’s racing pulse fluttering wildly against his palm. Just as he felt the lad’s struggles begin to weaken, just as he sensed that sweet line between pleasure and pain blurring, he loosened his grip. Barely enough to allow a shuddering breath to fill [Name]’s lungs. Enough to keep him teetering on the knife's edge of consciousness.
The young man let out breathy mewls, his mind shorting out from the overwhelming pleasure radiating from where they were so brutally joined. His tongue lolled out, drool dripping down his chin as he was fucked into incoherence, reduced to a needy hole for Silas to use. "P-please, cap..." [Name] slurred, though he wasn't even sure what he was begging for anymore. More? Less? Faster? Harder? It all blurred together into a litany of broken pleas spilling from his lips.
Palmer’s thumb traced the column of the informant’s neck, feeling his pulse and the bob of his Adam’s apple. His informant, his subordinate, his plaything of countless nights, always so prickly, so sharp-witted, so ready and eager for his touch, his cock. The thought of it, the reality of it, made his hips surge forward with doubled vigor, pounding into [Name] with enough force to rock the wooden desk beneath them, for certain making enough noise that even Detective Rhodes could hear from the evidence room right under them.
Both men could feel their release building, pleasure cresting. Silas held it at bay, determined to wring every last drop of ecstasy from [Name]’s pliant body before he allowed himself that shattering moment of bliss.
Finally, the informant’s body convulsed as his orgasm crashed over him, vision whiting out as pleasure exploded behind his eyes. A strangled moan tore from his throat, back arching sharply as he came for a second time, untouched, his cock spurting weakly against the desk. His hole clenched and rippled around Palmer’s dick, gripping him as [Name] rode out the intense ecstasy.
Feeling that ass spasming and milking his cock thoroughly, Silas left out a loud exhale followed by a moan of his own. His shaft throbbed and pulsed as he hilted inside the informant, hot semen erupting from the tip to paint [Name]’s inner walls. Thick spurts of cum pumped into him as the chief emptied himself, marking the informant as his, filling him up until the young man could feel the heat of it sloshing inside him. Palmer’s grip on the boy’s throat loosened as the last waves of his release ebbed, chest heaving with exertion as he caught his breath.
Palmer tucked himself back into his pants, the sound of his belt buckle clinking as he fastened them with efficient motions. The captain reached down and fisted a hand in [Name]’s hair, gripping the strands tightly as he hauled the informant's head up by the roots. He leaned in close, his face mere inches from the lad’s, and studied the debauched visage before him. [Name]’s eyes were glazed and unfocused, his lips shiny with drool, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. Yet, even in such a state, a smirk tugged at the corners of the little prick’s mouth, his tongue lolling out to wet his lips in a provocative gesture.
"It wasn't that hard, was it?" [Name] teased, words caming out slightly garbled but still infused with a hint of his signature impertinence. "I mean, all you had to do was squeeze my throat and fuck me like you meant it. Not exactly rocket science, Captain."
Silas couldn't help but huff, a sound caught between amusement and exasperation, as he listened to the cheeky remark. Even now, even after being so perfectly used and filled, the brat still had the nerve to run his mouth. He shook his head, releasing the sweaty hair to allow the informant's head to flop back down to the desk with a dull thud.
"And now, I suppose you're going to tell me that all you need is a little walking around money before you toddle off to play hero with those Wraiths?"
[Name] let out a breathless chuckle in agreement, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he savored the pleasant ache that had settled into his bones. "You know me too well, Silas," he agreed in a sated rasp. He pushed himself up slowly and uncoordinated, his muscles protesting the movement, and began to button his jeans with fingers that still trembled slightly. The informant made no move to clean the semen that had dripped down his thighs or that was leaking from his hole, leaving the evidence of their coupling to dry on his skin.
Palmer raised a brow, both amused and somewhat incredulous at the other man’s brazen lack of shame. "Not bothering to tidy up, I see," he remarked, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and grudging admiration. "Leave it to you to wear another man's cum like a badge of honor."
[Name] flashed his superior a youthful grin, "Don't you worry, Captain. You know there ain’t no momma of mine around to be scandalized by the state of her baby boy's boxers. 'Sides," he added with a shrug, tugging his leather jacket closed over the shirt that had been used to wipe the remnants of his own seed from Silas’ hand, "even if she was, I reckon she'd be proud of me for puttin' the assets I inherited to good use." [Name] punctuated his statement with a wink, looking like the very picture of unrepentant sin.
Silas just shook his head, entertained. Without a word, he reached into his wallet by the drawer and pressed a wad of cash into the informant’s hand, the bills crisp. "Here," he said gruffly, "this should be enough to keep you in bullets and Band-Aids for a while." The captain paused, his gaze turning more serious as he fixed the younger man with a hard stare. “[Name]. I know you've got a habit of diving headfirst into the shit without lookin' first, but with these Wraiths… if you are being truthful about their potential danger... don't be a fool. For fuck's sake, don't go lookin' for trouble." There was an undercurrent of genuine concern in Silas’ voice, an unguarded moment slipping through his usual cold detachment. The brief mirch in the room had vanished completely in less than a minute.
[Name] blinked, momentarily taken aback by the captain's words. His expression changed swiftly and composed itself just as quick: a flicker of something akin to surprise, or perhaps even vulnerability, flashed across his face before he quickly shuttered it behind a acrid smirk. "Well,” he drawled, half-bitterly, "I guess that means you actually, finally, give a shit about me, then," he mused, only to dismiss the notion just as swiftly with a soft shake of his head. "Nah.” He tucked the money into his jacket pocket and turned to leave, throwing a casual "Later, Captain" over his shoulder and stepping out of the dark office before his contractor could respond.
An unfamiliar tightness settled in Silas’ chest as he watched [Name] stride out of his office, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that left an unsettling emptiness in its wake, not bothering to hold the lad back. It was a sensation he couldn't quite name, this strange tugging in his gut, and one he had no intention of examining too closely. Palmer was not a man given to introspection. His relationship with the young man was simple, or so he told himself. Merely an exchange of favors, a mutually beneficial arrangement that preserved the little order left in a city that had long since lost its moral compass.
But somewhere throughout the years, the lines had blurred. When had it happened? He couldn't say. Perhaps it had been gradual, until one day Palmer found himself standing on the precipice of a realization he had no desire to acknowledge. He pushed the thought away, his jaw clenching as he reached for his cigars, the pack now nearly empty. Just an arrangement, he told himself, taking a bitter drag, nothing more.
But even as he tried to convince himself of that lie, he knew it rang hollow. There was a reason he kept [Name] close, why he went to lengths to protect the informant even as he used him. It wasn't just about the intel, the inside knowledge from gangs that kept his precinct afloat in a sea of corruption. No, there was something else.
Silas leaned back against the desk, admiring the obsidian-black sky outside his window, the crescent moon high. The city’s street lamps were a dying ember, the light fading from the historical district, while the captain was left to hold the pieces together. With [Name]. Him and his informant, two broken things that fit in the rot, trading heat and secrets in equal measure.
He sighed. This was too much, too close to something that resembled sentiment, and he had no use for that. Not in Veridian Falls, specially not as captain of the VFMP. Sentiment was a luxury he couldn't afford, not when he had a job to do, not when the city needed him to hold the line with his steadiness instead of weakness.
Silas Palmer was one of the only constants in Veridian Falls, one of the couple unyielding pillars in a rotting city. And he would be damned if he let some dirty street-runt break him. Not now. Not ever.
