His breath is hot against the nape of your sweat sheened neck, his hand resting in a hotter, tighter grip around the front base of your throat. His low, almost pained groans fall into your ear like the stream of a lazy river, ever present and melodic in an urgent rhythm.
His hips match the same urgent but deliberate tempo, rushed but thoughtful, primal yet purposeful. He’s fucking into you with no restraint, nearly folding you in half with your ass flush against his hipbones and cock buried in you beyond the hilt, stuffing you full of him. He fucks you like it’s a necessary evil, a means to an end that will never come. Almost believing that if he takes as much as he can from you now, he won’t ever have to crawl back into your arms or between your legs ever again. But you both know that won’t ever be the case. At least not any time soon.
He hates needing you as much as he does, which is at all. He hates how you make his cock rock hard and drool with pre just from catching a whiff of your perfume out in the wild, or how something as simple as seeing your favorite color somewhere makes the blood rush to his cock like a knee jerk reaction. Anything that has to do with you leaves him feeling stuck in some kind of haze inducing whirlwind, it's infuriating.
Nothing feels innocent anymore, not when his brain is a landfill full of lewd depravity. He hates that he can't seem to just be normal, that seeing your favorite color does nothing but remind him of the way you look sprawled out in his bed, adorned in nothing but his favorite pair of panties that you only seem to wear when you haven't seen him in awhile. He views the sight as if it were a special, unspoken treat for him and him only.
But what he really loves about it is how your arousal always seems to soak through the crotch of your panties and splotch over the gusset, making it a shade darker than the rest of the material. He thinks that it’s quickly becoming his secret favorite color.
And he's aware of how fucked up that is, how fucked up it all is - and that he should be disgusted with himself, revolted that he’s taking advantage of a girl as young as you. You're damn near walking jailbait. A girl as young as his daughter. A college girl with her life ahead of her, a girl who shouldn’t be anywhere near a man like him.
But he can’t bring himself to hold back, no matter how much everything in him tells him that he should. He can't ever seem to pull away from you, especially not now, while you're gripping onto the forearm he has locked under your breasts while he fucks you from behind. You're squeezing his toned arm with your soft hands for dear life, holding onto him like he’s your anchor of safety when he’s anything but.
The way you press yourself back up against him drives him crazy, as if the millisecond of him pulling out just to thrust right back in is a millisecond too long for you to bear without being fully impaled on his cock. The way you need him is a new type of addiction he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to kick.
And when he slips his hand from under your breasts and down between your sticky thighs to rub your clit, he chuckles a dark and lazy laugh into your neck. He’s breathless as he kisses the glistening skin there, feeling you gasp and tense up in his arms from the way he’s toying with your clit.
“Watch.” is all he says into the warm crevice of your shoulder, placing another kiss upon the skin there before he grabs your jaw and points your gaze up towards the bathroom mirror, slamming hard into you just to watch your face contort and brows draw up so prettily, bitten lips dropping open with a drawn out whimper.
“I love you,” you cry, nearly sobbing on his cock, babbling what he considers to be nonsense as he fucks you. His teeth fall hard into each other, his hand trembling imperceptibly between your grinding thighs. He’s quick to recover and continues rubbing your little clit with mind numbing circles, trying his best to not be thrown off with your sudden declaration.
He doesn’t want to accept the possibility that you actually mean it, that you could feel anything for someone like him besides surface level lust. And he especially doesn’t want to acknowledge that he might feel anything beyond that either.
So he doesn’t. He just grunts and bends you over completely into the sink, holding you tight and firm with one hand clamped shut over your mouth while the other circles hard over your clit. Your rising sounds lay muffled in his palm, your eyes squeezed shut as you lay there bent and nearly bred full of him, trying desperately to fuck yourself onto his pulsing cock.
“F-fuck,” he stutters, collapsing on top of you and swallowing your figure whole with his broad back curling over yours, shoving his cock as deep as it could possibly go inside you, pumping you full of his cum. He thrusts a few times, shallow and slow, using your tight cunt to milk himself of everything he’s got.
Once he’s pulled out and cleaned the cum that came dribbling out your well used hole, he dresses you, gentle and delicate unlike the way he handled you only moments prior. Before he can say anything, or even pull you in close for a delicate embrace to counteract the way he had just ravaged you, something cuts him off.
“Babe? Where are you?” the voice belonging to your boyfriend calls out from a distance, blissfully ignorant to what you had just participated in. He’s barely audible with how far away he seems to be, but much to your dismay, you’re able to hear him loud and clear. You can hear the beckoning calls for your name, innocent and unaware, and you can feel the guilt begin to manifest itself inside your chest all over again.
The sound of his voice additionally triggers your awareness of how the already sensitive mood between you and the man looming above you has begun to grow sour and awkward, thick with something uncomfortably palpable. And that’s how you know it’s time to go.
So you do, begrudgingly of course. You sigh quietly, leaning up on your toes to press one last kiss to his cheek, your hand resting against his chest, pretending to not notice the way his heart hammers into your palm as you do so.
“I’ll see you later.” you whisper, before pushing past him to exit the bathroom and re-enter your best friend’s birthday party once more, leaving him alone and filled with the post clarity of accepting the fact that he just got done fucking his daughter’s best friend on her birthday.
Father of the year, isn’t he?
SUGURU GETO, Erwin Smith, Leon Kennedy, JOEL MILLER, Modelo!Yuji Itadori, Jean Kirstein, Satoru Gojo, JOSEPH JOESTAR, Jotaro Kujo, Jack Abbot, MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH, Ethan Winters, Mikey Berzatto, Reiner Braun, RICK GRIMES, Nanami Kento, Kakashi Hatake, Leone Abbacchio, Tangerine, Miche Zacharius, All Might, LEORIO PALADIKNIGHT, CHARLIE SWAN, and your favorite husband!
a/n : hiii i couldn’t stop listening to dark but just a game n out came this :P hope yall liked it <3
