Pervy!Khamzat and nasty!reader that like teasing a bit too much
Nasty both of you!!
What a perv! You called him that in his face! Yes you did. Straight in the face! Not lowering your gaze on his packs covered in sweat, not even for an inch!!
So shamelessly he stared at your ass, using his height to peak down your cleavage, putting his pretty hands on your hips to move you to the side or using any opportunity of tiny spaces to rub his dick on your behind.
What a shame it was that he couldn't get a hold on pretty pair of underwear you wear. He would prefer something used, covered in your sweat and juices, but he wouldn't be a brat about freshly washed ones, a win is a win for him.
The only reason why he didn't get them is because you said no. That's right, you said no.
"You're such a pretty girl, why won't you let me have a memory of you."
"You won't be rubbing your cock on no pair of my underwear Khamzat, dirty OR washed."
What a gentleman? He took an opportunity to ask you for them, he didn't just mindlessly steal them. No, no, no. Khamzat wouldn't want to spook such a pretty bird by sending you a video of him slowly dragging those pretty lacy panties over his cock, covering it with his load while you could hear your name being chanted, mixed with sounds of his shameless moans and shallow breaths.
He would only often send you his training videos, it's like he knew how much pleasure you take from his suffering. That glorious smirk exchanged for a tired, exhausted face, droppy eyes - Khamzat would often be covered in sweat from his short grown out hair to his tiny shorts taped to his thighs.
In this exquisite scene, every time he went down to pick that heavy ball he would let out only the tinies breath and such a sinful groan as he picked it back up, with every time it becoming harder for him. It made you put your thighs tighter, letting yourself enjoy it only for tiny bit as you put your two fingers inside yourself eventually.
His training ended as he dropped down on the floor, pulling his shorts down to his crotch, what a whore. He had such a pretty waist for such a big man, his abs disappeared as he layed down. Taking deep breaths, his hands went from his face towards his crotch, what seemed as a way to make himself more comfortable, he managed to pull a stroke or two, like he knew your pussy was trying to find something to finish to, he lowered top of his shorts along his underwear just before his cock would start. What a pretty whore was he for you. He put his long, slick fingers down to his cock, inside of his underwear, letting once again much sweeter sounds, the little "ahs" and "ohs" so tiny, yet they rang in your ears.
It seemed as if he liked teasing himself more then putting on a show, he pulled his left hand and stroked his abdomen. You never wanted to sink your teeth in something so much, looking so soft, yet you knew that his hard muscles would abort your mission of eating him up.
His hand searched for something more, traveling to his chest, slowly dragging it towards his throat - where it stayed. It suprised you for a moment, how he pressed his hand into sides of it, his bottom lips caught between his teeth, he let out such a pretty laugh, the one you liked making fun of him for, little fox.
Slick bastard took one more stroke of his cock, and took it out, let the other one from his throat, you didn't notice when did he mange to get up, wave at you and just like a breath it sounded "byy", devilish smirk back on. You didn't get to it, didn't mange to answer him or his long text of how incredibly incompetent everyone in the gym was, tone so serious compering to the video, you felt a little guilty imagining him whimpering underneath you, taking control and impaling you on his cock.
Is it because you weren't so different from him? Is it because you would stay an hour after your training finished so you could feel his tired body giving up over you little by little, and more and more leaning, letting himself easy his strength on you? Is it because in that hour you took your oversized clothes to show off those pretty curves just in front of him? Or because you were now taking one of those pretty gift bags and packing a pair of your cum covered underwear and looking for a massage that could sound even dirtier "do not wash after use" orr "thank you for your service"?
That day you didn't stay for that extra hour, you felt a little nervous, a hypocrite that was calling him a pervert just a week before and told him no to exactly what she was about to leave him now with.
Khamzat didn't notice at first, that pretty bag in his locker, he thought and regretted a bit how he must have pushed you away with that video from last night. He chased away his pretty bird that smelled so sweetly. So imagine his suprise when he saw excet pair of underwear that he eyed on you through cracked open locker doors, just how he could like them, all covered with your cum?
Khamzat was a bit lightheaded, he had to sit down, pain took him over, sweet arousal spread over his aching body. You played your game so well, you will let him wonder some more, only giving him a sample taste of your cunt.
He could have been a dirtier bastard, done it there and then, just what you asked of him, "will you film it for me?". How could he not?
Hour and a half later, your phone pinged, chain of those foxy laughs let from his throat, not and ounce of shame on his face, he traid to put the phone correctly, so he could film it for you, just below his cook you were seated, you could see how excited he was for you.
He spat in his hands (ohh those pretty fingers), they didn't wait for a second, on his pretty member, his head was in haze, eyes blurred with desire. He took your underwear from the side, just before you started wandering if you missed his locker, and slowly brought them to his nose, inhaling the scent, you could see how he grabbed his shaft, like he will lose it in the moment. He looked truly happy, dragging your lacy panties accros his face, slowly stroking his cock, only sometimes letting it go, falling down on his abdomen. He raised up at 4:15, it felt like he was filming for an hour, just so aburptly he set upright in a kneeling position, his knees parted.
"Better if I could taste you here"
You eyes widened, you forgot you weren't there, that you weren't about to be served with his cock in your mouth, that they themselves weren't leaking on your pillowcase, you could taste him from the screen. You stayed there, he didn't move you, his features became more desperate and honest at the same time.
"I don't like playing with you милая девушка, youre very pretty girl"
He looked apologetic, almost sorry, almost guilty. Your underwear pressed to his cock, he wanted to make every part of it, it hazed him once again, such a slut you were, such a teasing slut, which was worse. Don't you know what happens to girls like you?
His cum didn't hit your underwear first, it hit his screen, you wanted just a taste of it, there was much.... He picked the rest out with them, cleaning himself just before smiling at the camera so sweetly, that if you weren't a witness of his shamelessness you wouldn't believe to anything remotely said about him.
"Bye" so tiny again, with such a little breath, so innocently it made your breath stop, your heart speed up at the same time.
Video ended.
No call or a massage after, you were left with pussy ready for his seed, air cold and body covered in sweat. There was he missing, to cover your with his warm body, to breath down your neck, to kiss your pretty pussy oh so gently after fucking it out, to hold you in his strong arms as he pushed back his seed in you, just to keep it from slipping your sensitive cunt.
(warnings: 18+ MDNI!! spicy sexual content because im delusional and dream of something like this happening to me every day!!! MY HOOD BF PLEASE: jealous/possessive khamzat, oral f receiving, alcohol use, unprotected drunk s*x)
just an “author’s” note because fck a separate post; ok it’s finally done I been slacking. ngl I wanna write a maga smut so bad but honestly, I have no ideas other than straight passionate s*x cause that’s all I think about when I see that man I’m sorry BYE. so give some ideas if you want. also, may I add.. my sad ass was saying how the last ones were my favorite i've ever written. now.. i'm a happy jolly mf, working on this one wondering wtf I was even talking about cause I’m big braining rn and now I think it was lowkey kinda dog shit I just liked the concept LOL and I’m laughing my ass off even harder because I realized for warnings I put none. and bruh I’m not gonna try to edit my own corny picsart photos anymore that shit just looks like a parody or smthing. lol khabibi I’m sorry 💀
(desc: literally way too much going on to even start to write a short description. this is almost a whole movie plot because I absolutely love my stories very long so I can come back and what’s the word.. cognitively goon..? man idk, but yeah when i'm not being extremely lazy about it. which, I usually always am, so.. just grab your popcorn and munch on it...)
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it was supposed to be your night.
his words,
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definitely…
not yours.
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he explained that there would be absolutely no fight talk, nobody else in the way,
and that the following nights would be solely about the both of you.
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well, he’d just come off a big win.
and instead of celebrating with his team, or family. he had flown you out, met you at the airport, taken your hand, and told you that he wanted to celebrate it,
with you.
you wondered, after everything, after that mess—why in the world would he want to focus on you..?
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still,
he went off and booked a nice room at one of the most luxurious casinos in vegas that he knew of, anyway.
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and it wasn’t just a "nice" room.
—it was the type that had marble floors, heavy velvet curtains that spilled onto the ground, a bed big enough to swallow you whole, and a huge balcony with a view so clear… it felt like vegas was leaning in, just to be closer to you.
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he had done it,
not because he cared about all the fancy details, but because…
he knew you would.
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you loved everything about the city.
—the lights, the colors,
the chaos…
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you’d always said vegas felt like a dream you wanted to live in, at least once.. so, he made sure that if he showed it to you…
maybe you’d see it the right way.
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and,
because he wanted you to have that.
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that one opportunity, to stand there, look off into the night..
and feel as if the whole city was yours.
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after dropping your things off upstairs, the two of you wandered down into the casino, and.. it was everything you loved all at once,
overwhelming in the best way possible..
the music, all of the bright chandeliers that glared above you, the constant clatter of coins spilling into their trays,
and the buzz of conversation when dealers called out at card tables—all while random people leaned in and cheered from the sidelines.
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it was loud, chaotic, and just too much…
but somehow,
you loved it.
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your chest felt light, and your heart started to race.
like the whole building was alive..
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and in some way,
you
were apart of it.
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you caught yourself smiling, probably wider than you should’ve been, because khamzat gave you this little side look, like he was half amused, and half proud that he’d brought you here.
for once, it felt like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.
you couldn’t stop yourself from looking everywhere, with your gaze bouncing from lights to tables to people—until it froze on one thing in particular.
out of everything.
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out of the countless rows of slot machines,
all of the card tables,
and even brighter lights,
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you spotted it.
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tucked in the corner,
plain, with a curtain half-drawn—just bright enough for you to notice.
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it was..
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a photo booth.
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khamzat raised a brow, smirking,
—staring at it.
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“seriously, one of those...?”
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“…corny”
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you rolled your eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm, his comment only made you want to tug him harder.
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“corny is fun, you dork..” you shot back
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“come on.”
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he sighed dramatically,
but let you pull him in anyway...
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the booth was barely big enough for him, or his broad shoulders.
you noticed that his knees brushed closely against yours as you both sat down and attempted to squeeze into the tiny space. and when you finally settled inside, he gave you a very distinctive look.
like he couldn’t believe you had actually managed to drag him into something like this.
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“you really brought me in here for this bullcrap..?”
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he looked over at you.. almost cramped in the corner, as if he was fighting a smile. you only grinned back at him, because... come on,
of course you had.
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when the countdown started on the screen, he had little to no expression. he was waiting patiently—as if he wanted to take absolutely no part in whatever "this" was.
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“don’t look so miserable, khamzat”
you teased, nudging him.
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he raised a brow, before turning back to you.
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“what do you mean..?
I look good.."
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"always...”
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he threw a wink in your direction, before pulling a ridiculous flex right as the camera flashed.
you gasped, almost laughing.
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“oh my gosh wait, wait…
you’re actually trying...?”
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“yeah..
only for you.”
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he muttered low—almost as if he didn’t mean for you to actually hear it.
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the next flash went off with your cheek pressed against his, catching both of you mid laugh, as he tried not to question anything.
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then,
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the final countdown ticked, and without any warning he grabbed your waist and quickly dragged you onto his lap—his smile absolutely wicked as you squealed in surprise.
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“khamzat, what the hell…!”
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you half-laughed, and half-scolded, but the booth clicked before you could push at his chest, catching the whole ordeal,
perfectly.
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and when the photos slid out,
you bent down and snatched them up almost immediately.
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“okay… okay, wait.."
"these are actually adorable.”
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“adorable?”
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he repeated, pretending to scoff, leaning over your shoulder to see.
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"look at me...."
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"I look dangerous.”
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you only laughed harder.
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"you look.... stupid"
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he gave a low chuckle and with one quick motion, he snatched the photos right out of your hands.
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“hey...!”
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you tried to reach for them, but he just leaned back against the booth wall, studying the strip with a mocking-serious face, like he was critiquing some sort of art.
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“mm,” he hummed, tapping one square with his finger.
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“this one.. you look crazy here.”
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“well, maybe that’s because you—
ugh, whatever...”
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you just rolled your eyes, smiled, and tried your hardest to snatch it back, but he turned his shoulder slightly, keeping it away—not teasing you to jump for it, just keeping it close to him like he didn’t actually want to let it go.
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eventually,
he gave it back, and you tucked the photo strip carefully into your bag, still smiling, slipping your hand into his as you both started to walk away.
the lights glared bright, and the air was buzzing with plenty of random noises, like slot machines, laughter, music,
and voices.
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you soaked it all in.
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the two of you wandered for a while after that, pausing to watch around a roulette table just as you saw before, slipping past rows of slot machines that flashed, and walking long enough for you to peek at a couple of shops nearby.
you even went out near the fountains and sat there,
admiring everything.
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the casino was its own little world,
and...
you let yourself get lost in it.
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moving from one distraction to the next until time didn’t feel like it mattered.
and by now, it was night outside… though inside the casino,
it never really changed.
—it still had the same glowing lights, and the same noises… only a bit heavier after hours of wandering.
your legs ached a little, and your head buzzed in the best way, it felt like the whole place had settled into a different rhythm,
but.. you didn’t even feel tired.
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khamzat leaned in closer—so you could hear him, just a little better through all of the noise.
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“so... you happy now?”
he asked, with a grin on his face.
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“of course I am."
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"but… I’m not done yet.”
you smiled up at him, tugging at his arm again.
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“come on, let’s go over there.”
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you said as you pointed over to the bar.
it was busy but... somehow, not too packed.
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you slid onto the stool in front of you, smoothing your dress, as he claimed the seat next to you. his arm settled across the back of your chair, and his body angled toward you, almost as if he didn’t plan on letting anyone else close,
at all.
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“so, earlier…
what did you say you wanted to try?”
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he asked, tilting his chin toward the many rows of bottles.
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you looked over, with him.
—trying to think..
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but..
before you could open your mouth to answer, you could hear distant shouting.
—a commotion began to stir from behind.
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“khamzat!!!”
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you both looked at each other in confusion, before slowly turning around, and from across the floor,
a group of his teammates had spotted him.
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somehow,
they had all decided to come to the same place.
purely by coincidence.
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they were loud—and grinning. waving him over as if they hadn’t seen him in years, but…. it had barely been a few days.
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you felt him stiffen beside you.
then, their voices carried again.
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louder,
more insistent as they continued to wave at him to come over to their table.
he looked truly annoyed, but looked back at you before muttering a short:
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“stay here.”
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you only nodded,
even if it sank in your chest a little.
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he gave you a half-nod back.
his hand brushed your arm before he moved away, slowly disappearing into their circle.
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you didn’t mind it, afterwards.
you just sat where you were, perched on the stool, but the empty space next to you, somehow... felt emptier than you’d thought it would be...
even with him in sight,
standing there right across from you.
you saw that he had a large grin on his face already —laughing, answering questions, and slapping shoulders...
you hadn’t ordered, but the bartender noticed you, lingering.
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alone.
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at his counter.
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“are you waiting on someone...?” he made his way over and asked you, while wiping down a glass.
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“no, he's actually over there.”
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you replied, offering a faint smile. you thought about it more, and decided that you would continue to speak:
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“well, actually.. I guess you could say that.” you let out a slight awkward chuckle.
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“he got pulled away.”
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you glanced back over to khamzat—who now looked as if he was having the time of his life.
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“stuff like that happens..”
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“too often,”
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the bartender continued, shaking his head, following your gaze—taking a glance at the decently large crowd..
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"did you want a drink while you wait..?” he raised a brow.
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you hesitated, then shook your head.
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“no thanks.. I'm fine.”
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“suit yourself.” his tone was easy,
not pushy whatsoever.
“don’t want you sitting here looking bored, though."
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"long night?”
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he asked as he leaned in, to hear you better through all of the television chatter, laughter, and..
whatever else.
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it was nothing serious
just small talk.
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you huffed a soft laugh and smiled—leaning in slightly as well..
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“kind of…”
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and somewhere in between the talking..
the smiling,
and the laughing,
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that’s when you started to feel something.
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a weight,
sharp and heavy.
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because, from across the room..
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khamzat’s eyes had found you again.
and, he wasn’t listening to the voices around him anymore—nor was he laughing like before.
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he was...
watching.
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khamzat’s group was loud around him.
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maybe a little—
too loud…
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there was plenty of laughter, and the voices of countless people buzzing through the both of his ears. he nodded when he had to, and smiled when expected, but his eyes kept drifting back…
again,
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and again.
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to you.
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sitting alone at the bar, with that miserable look in your eyes, as you patiently waited for him to get done. he silently watched as your dress caught light every time you shifted, and admired you as your hair fell soft around your face every time he wasn't distracted.
his gaze burned straight through the space between you, locked on the way you sat there—the way the bartender made his way closer to you,
the way your lips curved in a slight smile, while you glanced up at him and..
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suddenly,
he leaned in,
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said something low…
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and,
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you laughed....
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not loud,
not flirtatious,
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but soft.
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soft enough that he felt it somewhere in his chest...
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and then..
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you.
leaned in,
too..
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to him,
it didn’t matter that neither of you guys were flirting.
it didn’t matter that you were just trying to be nice by conversing with him—or, that he was a bartender who was only trying to do his job...
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he hated that it wasn’t him that was making you laugh in that moment...
—especially the way you did.
he hated that you were leaning in even slightly toward another man, giving away pieces of your yourself that belonged to him,
and to him only.
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yet.. he had managed to grab your full attention.
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and..
he hated it.
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because,
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you were his.
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his.
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he found himself repeating the same phrase over in his mind until the casino eventually blurred around him.
all of the noise, and the voices of men he’d known for years seemed to settle down, because in that moment..
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nothing mattered.
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only…
you did.
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and the way you were looking at someone else,
when he was the only one that you should’ve been looking at this whole damn time.
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he didn't even realize how hard he was clenching his jaw, and how the heat started to burn low in his chest.
—how his hand slowly curled into a fist at his side.
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he hated the sight of it.
he was disgusted, even.
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disgusted at the fact that you were sitting there alone.
alone long enough for another man to even think about having to fill that empty space.
he only realized he’d already stopped listening when one of his teammates nudged on his arm—repeating a question he didn’t seem to hear.
he brushed it off, quickly muttered something, and pushed himself up from the table—eventually parting with the group,
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now…
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he was making his way straight toward you.
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you only looked up when his shadow fell over you,
he didn’t even give the bartender a single glance.
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“we’re leaving,”
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he said, finally. with his voice low, and rough. not loud at all. but somehow, it carried far more weight than any other noise nearby.
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soon,
you found your throat going dry.
because you knew he wasn’t asking.
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he was..
telling you.
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his hand slid around your waist.
firm, and steady.
leaving no room to argue as he helped you down from the barstool. you blinked up at him, confused at the suddenness but, he didn’t say anything else.
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didn’t even explain.
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or let you turn back over to say your goodbyes.
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hell,
that was the last thing he was going to let you do.
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his hand stayed glued onto your back as he guided you through the halls, steering you.
like you might drift away if he were to even think about letting you go.
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“khamzat…?”
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he didn't reply—just stood there, silently waiting for the elevator doors to open.
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“what’s wrong..?”
“we didn’t even get a drink yet.”
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you carefully asked, tilting your head up at him. he stepped inside, saying nothing—just motioning for you to follow.
and obviously,
you did.
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the doors soon slid shut.
he walked over and stood near the control panel, pressing a button, with his hand resting lightly on the railing before slowly turning back to you.
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“you didn’t need one over there.”
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he muttered shortly, with his eyes now fixed ahead on the small glowing number that counted down the floor
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“come on,
you’re acting weird...”
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“you said I could...”
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you frowned, caught between pouting and laughing.
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he didn’t respond,
—just let the elevator hum between you both.
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when the doors dinged open, he stepped out first, glancing over his shoulder, waiting for you.
you followed behind him, heels clicking lightly, with your fingertips trailing along the walls, as he led you down the short hallway to the suite.
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at the door, he slid the keycard through the reader. the lock gave a short beep before clicking open. —he pushed it wide enough for you to step in first.
the door behind you eventually clicked shut, and the silence between you two only stretched.
you let the sound of your own breathing fill the space. you didn’t know whether to speak first, so you stayed quiet.
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after a while, you let out a loud sigh, dropping your bag and leaning your back against the nearby counter, crossing your arms.
the silence had stretched for too long, and… you couldn’t handle it anymore:
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"seriously, you're just gonna drag me away from the bar... to come here and do nothing..?"
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"with absolutely no explanation."
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he didn’t answer right away, just stared at you with that dark, unreadable look that almost made your stomach twist. he stepped closer, chest rising and falling heavier than before.
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"you think I didn’t see that..?"
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"the way you laughed.."
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"the way he leaned in.."
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"you just...
let him."
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"and,
you did too."
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you blinked one good time, clearly unprepared for that kind of response—anything but that.
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“what are you on about, khamzat..?”
“that was just the bartender.”
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“I was only trying to hear him better, he was asking me if I—”
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“—doesn’t matter”
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he stepped even closer, cutting you off.
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“you just don’t get it.”
his hand ran over his face, down to his jaw, like he was trying not to lose it..
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“then, explain...” you stared at him.
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“I’ll try to understand.”
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you lifted your chin, trying to meet his gaze.
your fingers found his hand, sliding yours into his, with a light, almost nervous squeeze.
for a moment, he just looked at you—almost like he was holding something back,
like words weren’t enough…. like he had a thousand of them that were trapped behind his thoughts, but didn’t know which ones to even bother saying first..
he looked down at your hand that was covering his. you were holding it gently,
and, attentively.
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and, suddenly....
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his lips found yours.
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but,
it wasn't soft…
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wasn't sweet...
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in fact…
it was rough...
-
-
and..
desperate..
like he was trying to put all of his jealousy and frustration into the way his tongue moved against yours.
your back hit the counter, and his hands gradually started to explore every inch of you, allowing him to take whatever he needed,
-
anything.
-
his hands dragged lower, gripping the curve of your thighs. hard enough to make you gasp as he hauled you up onto the counter in one motion. your dress rode even higher, as one of his hands crept up beneath it.
he stepped in between your legs, spreading them as far as he could as he drew closer, crowding you in.
you barely had time to breathe before his mouth was on yours again—messy, and hungry, like he couldn’t seem to get close enough.
another hand slid up your dress, pushing the fabric higher until the cool air kissed at your bare hips.
-
he drew back slowly, his hands left your body, giving your dress a chance to fall back into place. then, he walked across the counter and grabbed the bottle he’d been saving.
-
he twisted the cap off, set it aside, and tipped it to his lips. taking a few long gulps..
which to you,
were almost concerning.
-
the liquor burned all the way down his throat. and afterwards, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head back for a moment as if to shake off the sudden heat. then, he made his way back over to you.
lifting the glass to where it hovered at your lips, with his other hand resting near your leg.
-
-
“you said you wanted a drink..."
-
-
"open.”
-
-
he ordered, tilting it slightly. you complied and opened your mouth, drinking as much as you could, trying not to choke. all while he watched, intently. brushing his thumb along your bottom lip to wipe away any stray droplet that happened to fall.
then he set the bottle aside,
—with his mouth curling into a dark smirk.
-
-
before you could even catch your breath, his mouth was back on yours. his tongue swept against your lips, tasting the liquor he’d just poured down your throat, swallowing the little gasp that escaped you.
the kiss only deepened,
like he was determined to make you feel exactly what it had cost him to keep it in.
-
his hands slid over your sides, rough and sure, dragging you closer until there was no space left between you.
-
“you fucking drive me crazy…
I hope you know that.”
-
his voice was low, with the scent of liquor still lingering on his lips as they brushed your skin. it was steady, but edged with something, darker.
-
-
"khamzat..." you whispered, unsure if it was either a plea, or... a warning.
-
-
"shh.."
-
-
"...let me make everything all about you, now.. okay...?"
-
-
he mumbled gently, as he slowly let you go.
before you could speak, he sank down onto his knees in front of you—eyes staring at your legs, and back up. roaming over ever curve, and every line of your body.
his hand trailed alongside your thigh.
teasingly,
almost as if he was trying to memorize the countless times you had shivered beneath his touch.
-
-
he then leaned forward, pressing soft, slow kisses just above the sensitive part of your inner thighs, before easing his hand all the way up and moving your underwear to the side. leaning in, even closer. your back couldn’t help but arch slightly—and a small gasp slipped past your lips as his mouth started to explore you.
-
spreading you open,
-
tasting..
-
you tried, but you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that escaped from your mouth, your body reacted before your mind could.
all you could do was grab at the edges of the counter.
-
-
he chuckled low, and darkly.
because he knew exactly how much control he had over every single one, of your reactions.
his low chuckle almost vibrated against you, making you tremble.
-
“mhhh…”
-
you let a moan slip out, and covered your mouth for a split second. he gripped your thigh harder, spreading it wider with a strength that made your breath hitch.
-
-
“that’s it…”
-
-
he muttered, voice rough, almost lost between your gasps.
-
“don’t hide it..”
-
-
his tongue moved slower, then suddenly....
rougher.
drawing another soft whimper from you…
you tried to close your thighs around his head, but his hands firmly pinned you open, forcing you to take every bit of attention he was giving you.
one of his hands stayed firm, to hold you in place. but you still found yourself clutching onto him for balance so you didn’t slip off of the counter, somehow. and that’s when you found that your fingers started to tangle in his hair,
tugging harshly without even realizing it.
-
-
he only groaned into you.
-
-
like he wanted you to lose control,
like he was daring you to.
-
-
every time you tried to turn away, his grip only tightened. his mouth, his tongue—every move felt like he was proving a point.
like he wanted to remind you exactly who you belonged to… and to feel as if the night itself knew exactly whose you were, too.
-
your legs twitched under his grip, with soft whines spilling past your lips, and tears starting to form in your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to hold either of them back.
he pulled away just for a second, with his mouth glistening, and his eyes blazing as he looked up at you.
and he then saw you,
—that look on your face,
-
-
and, decided that...
he just couldn't take it anymore…
-
so, he lifted you from that counter,
effortlessly.
-
carrying you all the way to the master bedroom.
—with the bright city lights glaring across the sheets, blurring your vision as your head began to spin.
he laid you on the bed gently, and without breaking eye contact, he bent down. pulling both of your heels off, one at a time, letting his hands linger just a little longer than necessary.
then he straightened, letting his gaze roam over you again, his hands traced your sides before finding the zipper at the back of your dress. and with a slow, deliberate tug, he eased it down, along with your underwear, exposing the warmth of your skin beneath.
he made his way on top of you, softly pressing his body against yours, grounding you. making sure you couldn’t pull away even if you tried.
you lay exposed before him, every inch revealed, while he remained fully clothed.
you shivered at his touch, and the way he pinned you down. thinking of all the things he could do to you in that exact moment.
he delicately placed kisses alongside your neck, down to your chest…
-
-
and then,
he lost control.
-
-
he leaned a bit backwards, and then started to aggressively fumble with his belt,
he didn’t even care to take it off all the way.
he pulled his boxers, along with his pants down slightly, spreading one of your legs as far as he could with his free hand—grabbing his dick and sliding it along your already soaking wet folds with his other.
you started to breathe heavy, it had been a while since you both had sex, and you could feel that sharp, familiar stinging pain as he tried to ease his way inside of you,
and he almost didn't fit…
-
more tears gathered at the corners of your eyes as you fought back a whine.
he noticed, but the only thing he did was lean in closer on top of you, hugging you tightly, resting his head against the side of your neck. giving it a single, faint kiss. before taking one deep, sudden thrust…and just like that, he was already inside of you.
-
you gasped,
biting harshly at your lip as you tried to hold onto him. you couldn’t help the moans that crept out. your eyes started to blur, and your face started to turn into somewhat of a frown.
he didn’t waste any time, starting to pull out, before softly easing himself back inside of you again, and..
again.
—giving you time to get adjusted.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
and by now,
-
-
the effects of the drink had spread fast,
-
-
-
a bit sharper this time,
making it absolutely impossible to think straight, as he picked up the pace.
-
-
-
you could feel it spreading through your chest, warming your veins. every brush of his mouth against your skin, and every grind of his hips blurred into something dizzying.
until it was almost, unbearable.
you barely registered how you ended up against the bed, getting yourself destroyed.
his hands were firm around your thighs, guiding, and controlling every movement—his pants started to slip farther down his legs as he put more force into it.
-
-
the room was tilted with the scent liquor, and the echoes of him forcing himself back inside of you, repeatedly. but all you could focus on was how he pressed you so far backwards, that the backs of your knees hit the mattress...
his grip tightened, and his mouth traced along your neck. you could feel your toes starting to curl as you felt him hit that one spot,
just right.
you instinctively slid your hands under his shirt, reaching his back, clawing at it… his mouth trailed hot down your jaw, catching at the side of your neck, biting down, just enough to make you cry out to him again as he continued to pound into you, relentlessly. —and almost immediately, drops of your own cum started to seep through, and drip onto the sheets.
you cried out for him, unable to hold back the sound that escaped.
-
-
"khamzat! ah.. fuck..!"
-
-
he started to breathe intensely into your neck, listening to every single one of those little wet noises your body gave every time he drew back and buried himself deeper inside of you. listening to your sobs as if that was what he had planned from the start—for you to cry out to him,
—for him be the only one you were ever going to need.
-
-
"…mine..”
-
-
his voice broke against your skin in drunken fragments, muffled—almost swallowed by the closeness of his mouth. and it almost seemed as if the alcohol had hit him too..
by the way he was fucking you,
all sloppily, rough, and possessive, holding you tightly… as if letting go meant losing you forever.
-
his weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, before he started to slow down, you could hear a slight groan as you felt him twitch inside of you, along with the warmth that gathered afterwards, deep, and slow.
-
your chest heaved beneath his, both of you dizzy from more than just the alcohol. heat and sweat clung to your skin, the taste of him still burned on your lips,
and every place he’d touched was still alive and trembling.
-
neither of you spoke… there was only the sound of your breathing, uneven and tangled together, filling the quiet room.
his forehead rested against yours, damp with sweat, and when he finally moved, it wasn’t to pull away—it was to drag his mouth along your jaw, slow and lingering, before finding your lips again in a softer, lazier kiss, nothing too frantic now.
nothing rushed.
-
just a promise in the way his mouth lingered, like he wanted to etch the taste of himself into your memory,
idk if the chechnyian secret police are gonna get me for this one but i personally think strickland and chimaev should fuck raw on stage for five rounds. you know they both want to, and i think they'd both be better off for it too. everyone wins 👍🏿
So guys his weight couldn't handle him ok,he was "too much" for them so they send his tiny maniac ass to heavyweight,and after all of that workout he does this...
Oooooh they all were sooo done with him...
all of them setting getting there shit together while his tiny maniac ass is in the middle abusing the bag..
