for the kink prompts, how about free use and restraints with marcmarc?
personalized kink prompt list ✨
free use - restraints - bezquez
on ao3
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Marco's limp dick throbs very bravely against Marc's palm where it's being cradled for inspection. It's not getting hard again any time soon, Marc thinks. Fair enough—Marc's ridden him to hell and back enough times today that it's a miracle he's even still conscious.
Still, Marc gives him a little squeeze, his soft, sticky cock, and Marco whimpers wordlessly. He hasn't spoken in hours, but Marc likes him this way. Sprawled out, cuffed to the bed by his arms, so fuck-dumb that there's barely a light behind his eyes. His mouth is red and swollen and trembling.
He's still smiling, though. Every time Marc's come back to use him, he's been smiling, eager, even if his body is refusing to keep up with what his mind wants so badly.
Marc has never in his life met anyone who wants to be good as badly as Marco Bezzecchi does.
He squeezes Bez's dick again, pensively, running the pad of his thumb over its wet tip. Even soft, he's still blurting precome all over his belly like he's trying to make up for it. He's sweet all over like this. The vacantly adoring look on his face. The flushed-pink, sweaty expanse of his chest, the shine of the new nipple ring that Marc can't keep his mouth off of. The sticky, flaking smears of come on his belly and thighs where Marc's only perfunctorily wiped him down.
Marco whines, tentative. When Marc looks up at his face he looks a little distressed—only a little, but that could turn into more if Marc were just a bit meaner to him. Marc's not aiming for mean today.
"That's alright," Marc tells him conversationally, laying Marco's soft-but-trying cock back against his pelvis. It's just as easy to climb up on the mattress, spread Marco's shaky knees wide. Just as good to slip a couple of lubed-up fingers back behind Marco's balls, to press against and into his hole in one easy motion. Marc hasn't fucked him yet today, not here. But he's loose and relaxed like he's been railed within an inch of his life at least as many times as Marc has had him.
Marco makes this funny little sound, something that wants to be a moan or a whimper but comes out in this sweet little pah of air. Marc laughs at him.
"You're sweet, aren't you," he says absently. His dick jerks, hard and twitching in midair when Marco's insides ripple welcomingly around his fingers.
Marco says, "Mmmmmh," which Marc is going to take as agreement.
When Marc pulls his fingers out, Marco bites his lip until it turns white. He wants to ask for more—greedy thing, Marc thinks, though that's not entirely true—but he's not had the words for it for hours and hours now.
Marc laughs at him again, shushes him, only vaguely chastising. He's already nudging the tip of his dick against Marco's loose hole anyway. It's not like he's not going to give him what he wants.
Pushing inside is slow-going, only because Marc likes watching Marco's face so much. He's so expressive, with his pink mouth falling open, with his lashes fluttering and eyes rolling, with the dumb grin that creases his face like unfolded laundry. He just looks so satisfied. Like being full of cock is all he could ever need to be happy ever again.
His dick stays soft and pink and wet as Marc starts to move. Even when Marc hefts up his hips for a better angle and Marco's thighs start jerking, and he starts moaning helplessly, his dick refuses to get fully hard. It's gratifying how badly he wants it. How his whole body still accepts this even at its limit.
Say what you will about him, Marco never gives up.
She isn’t expecting it when Marc reaches out to touch. That hadn’t been part of the agreement, but then they hadn’t really negotiated beyond you have boob ring. Show me boob ring.
