synopsis: caesar finds some particularly compromising videos on lighter’s phone when she shouldn’t be looking.
warnings: p in v, hair pulling, accidental voyeurism, praise kink, filming, amateur porn, rough intercourse, biting, blow jobs, light degradation (he could never be unkind to u), unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
notes: crossposted to AO3. ive been procrastinating this post ha
caesar knew she shouldn’t be snooping through lighter’s phone like this.
not without his permission, of course. she was just curious, she swore, just taking a peek at whatever dumb images he saved. maybe some of cute bangboo, or screenshots of tight leather jackets he might treat himself to later.
there was the occasional obligatory photo of him and the girls they insisted he take, of course some jackets and sunglasses he was looking at in person, photos of adorable animals he encountered on the streets. one question remained persistent — where were the photos of you he had saved? she’s seen him look down at his phone to peek at your texts, saving the selfies you sent him. caesar snuck a glimpse of his phone in her peripheral, pictures of you with a treat, or holding up a peace sign with a mutual friend. she couldn’t deny the smile that spread across his face, despite whatever you and him were.
but, extraordinarily enough, his camera roll was terribly boring. her thumb scrolled further, noting the organized folders on his phone. “friends,” “cute,” and an unnamed one. if only caesar’s snooping stopped there.
mindlessly, half expecting nothing, the barrage of photos and videos loaded. so this is where he kept everything he had of you? how adorable. caesar chuckled to herself at the occasional dumb photo of either you or him, there was a striking one of him in pigtails. his face was red with embarrassment, arms crossed and pouting like a fussy child, his hair in two short and choppy pigtails on each side of his head. that was surely a look. the next picture was a selfie of you and him with ice cream, he didn’t know he had a bit on his face while taking it.
the photos ranged from photos of you beaming next to an adorable kitten, to sultry photos you sent him late at night, pictures of you on his lap, images of you kissing him. okay, now she should put his phone down and pretend she never saw anything. nope, never touched it, didn’t look at all. the nagging voice in her head demanded she keep looking, intrigue getting the best of her. it was cute, she thought, what’s the harm?
the next swipes displayed a string of lewd photos back-to-back, some of you in a suggestive pose or kissing his neck.
oh my god.
oh. my. god.
she kicked herself internally for not putting his phone down earlier, nearly choking on her own spit. there it was, on his phone screen, a video of his dick right in front of your face. thankfully the volume was lowered, she pressed the side button a few times just in case, silencing it entirely. the video continued to play, your head in his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed, your body to the side as he held the phone down to capture the lewd sight at an entirely different angle. you slapped his shaft against your cheek a few times, giggling with amusement as his heavy cock made brief contact with your skin. after a few strokes, you ran your tongue down his length, making your way back up with a kiss to the tip. your tongue jutted back out to give a few more licks to the slit, licking up as much pre-cum as you could.
lighter’s free hand cupped your cheek, stroking the jawbone on the side of your face that you previously teased him with. his thumb then pulled the fat of your lip, bringing it down with a motion before letting it go. you eagerly swallowed his cock, only managing to take in a good few inches. lighter’s arm draped around your neck and shoulders, allowing you to suck his dick with no assistance. caesar looked around a few times, ensuring she was totally alone before upping the volume enough for only her to hear.
immediately, she could hear the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth working, your dominant hand stroking the base of his shaft as your lips managed the rest. lighter gave a few gentle praises, urging you further, his low groan ringing in her ears as you gagged trying to take more than you could handle. the video ended after you came up for a breath, stroking his cock as it rested by your cheek, your gaze loving and playful. it glistened with a thick sheen of spit.
with a shaky thumb, she swiped over to the next video. this one was filmed by you, angling the camera downwards enough. it looked like you two were in missionary, lighter on top of you. his voice could be heard, hand ungloved as it snaked down to stroke his cock a few times. he didn't have his jacket on anymore, either, sporting a shirtless look. his body was incredibly scarred, but his skin carried its own handsome charm. she could decipher the last few words he said, “— relax, i’ve got you. ‘kay?”
her eyes flicked down to you, as his hand moved to pull your underwear out of the way. he didn’t even bother taking them off, tucking them in the junction of your thigh and pussy. everything from the midriff down was exposed as you kept your legs spread open for him. your breathing was labored and shallow, likely from arousal. his hand tugged you closer to him, lining himself up with you. as he slid in, he pressed his hand onto the skin over your womb, applying a firm pressure. caesar could hear your cries, whiny and needy, his thumb immediately offering a semblance of comfort by dragging along your clit. his other hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, starting to pull out. his movements were loving and deliberate, attentive to your moans and shakes. your hands struggled to keep his phone stable as he picked up the pace, “you’re doing amazing, keep taking me.”
the video after was in a different position, his phone returned back to its original owner. the other hand held your arm back as he plowed into you from behind, face down and ass up. only your sobs of pleasure and the sound of skin against skin could be heard. his camera was angled perfectly to capture the unfiltered action, his cock sliding in and out of you with ample ease. with a grunt, he pulled your arm again, fucking into you with brutal thrusts. caesar never heard lighter curse that much in a few seconds, not even when he was seething with unbridled rage or injured and battered. “fuck, yeah, you like that? i know you do. goddamn tight, can’t live without this dick.”
the next video had another angle, his phone propped up against something presumably on his nightstand. lighter had both hands on your hips now, rocking your body back and forth as he dragged his hips in and out of your cunt. she could hear the bed frame below you two creaking and thudding against the wall. he was hunched over you, muttering in your ear between breaths, some words unsavory and vulgar, others sweet and encouraging. “need me? you need me to fuck you? you’re doing so good. you won’t let go of me, even if i tried to pull out.” his chest and abs were covered in sweat, locks dampened from the intensity. his lips trailed kisses from your ear, varying in intensity as they went down your neck. he nipped the skin, sucking it with feverish passion, biting your earlobe as he tugged at the hair above the nape of your neck. lighter pulled tightly, savoring your throaty mewl, “you love me? you love it when i fuck you? come for me. show me how much you love it.”
you muttered a few unintelligible words, grabbing at the sheets beneath you as your body shook with fervor, tears welling in your eyes with each helpless moan. lighter pulled harder, fingers intertwined deeply in your hair. in an instant, you trembled harder and cried out. wiggling your hips back and forth, seeking sensation to ride out your orgasm. lighter pulled your head back by the hair, spine arching as he pulled you up, knees still on the bed. you sobbed at the loss of his length inside you, suddenly feeling empty. lighter whispered in your ear, panting and flushed, stroking himself quickly. “that’s it, let me hear you, can’t help but come on my cock.”
with a final, deep stroke, lighter came on the lower part of your back right below the arch. your shoulder blades were flush against his chest. caesar paused the video, heat much more noticeable on her face and through her body. her cheeks were burning red, heart racing at the taboo of watching two people have sex. people she would argue she knows quite well. she closed out of his camera roll and put his phone down, turning it off.
the carnal lust in those videos she saw just couldn’t leave her. should she return his phone, or take a cold shower? should she leave it be, or mention she saw them having sex on his phone? no, no, nothing! don’t say a word at all. she didn’t see anything, she didn’t look through anything compromising. caesar sat in silence for a few more moments, processing what she had just discovered, jumping in her seat as lighter returned.
“hey, did you see my phone?” he approached her as she sat, his phone still in front of her on the table, “oh, there it is. thanks, boss.” lighter didn’t seem to notice her pale and clammy complexion, easily going about his business, unlocking it to send a text.
“yup.” caesar could only muster an uncharacteristically weak thumbs up.
thinking about lighter and his awfully cheesy romance movie fixation…
⭑ drabble; only slightly steamy (mentions of sex and porn), but he really likes romance movies tee hee… lighter is THE hopeless romantic. he’s got it worse than miss caesar king. maybe it’s contagious?
⭑ lighter lorenz x gn!reader, (mostly???) SFW.
it’s gotten quite late, but he can’t force himself to turn off the TV yet. it’s been hours, sitting in the same position on the couch, absolutely immersed in romance films. rom-coms, dramatic romances, forbidden loves, dying together… it’s all so alluring to watch. he can’t help but put himself in the leading character’s place, finding every chance they can get to impress or even capture their love interest.
of course, you whined with every embarrassing scene, covering your eyes when the leading actors kissed or did something “stupid.” you took every chance you could to dash away, maybe grab snacks or a comforter. but he never got up, not unless he needed to. lighter was utterly dazed, totally awestruck with each plot point, every twist, the passionate confessions, and even rejections — or worse. it made his heart race, the fantasy of being confessed to, or confessing his undying, torrid love to an interest. maybe that interest was laying in his lap now, sound asleep.
he forced his gaze down towards his lap, your face smooshed into his thigh as you laid there. if only you knew how cute you looked. you’d stir a few times, lighter’s hand instinctively coming to stroke your cheek or your upper arm, chastely caressing the skin with gentle movements. if you made a soft noise, lighter would give you a soft hush, smiling as you snored and sighed.
this movie, though, had really caught his attention. sure, it was under the romance genre, duh. he had made sure to keep enough movies playing for maybe an entire 24 hours. but, holy hell, his hands were trembling and sweaty…
the two lovers were entangled in a passionate embrace, their lips and bodies melding together. the room filled with the sounds of their love, but lighter couldn’t find it in him to take his eyes off the screen. his cheeks were stained a hue of red, eyes wide in shock. you rustled around a few more times under the thin blanket, “shh, shh, shh…”
with a quick hushing, lighter’s attention regrouped, the scene growing more steamy with each passing second. this was borderline porn, maybe with an artistic twist. he couldn’t deny he was excited, but it had him thinking, wondering if he could experience this type of love himself.
“are you watching porn?” a groggy voice spoke, you were sitting upright. oh shit, oh fuck.
“uh, no…” lighter froze, panicked, his face turned towards you as the scene played out. where was the remote? why couldn’t he grab it?! “it’s the movie, i’m not watching porn. i don’t do that. that’s weird, totally weird, i don’t look at porn. i swear.”
lighter was mortified, face tinted a deep crimson. you really couldn’t be bothered to nag him for watching porn, if he was. he quickly reached for the remote, pausing the movie. “see? it’s the movie, i’m not weird.” lighter’s voice was heavy with anxiety, though his tirade about how he ‘swears-he-is-not-a-pervert-who-looks-at-naked-people’ didn’t quite convince you. if he looked at naked people on the interknot or in magazines, that was his business.
“i think you already said that. i believe you.” your voice was raspy with sleep, vision still fuzzy as the movie was paused on a shot of the female love interest straddling the male protagonist, bust just out of frame. lighter’s breathing was heavy and frantic, though your lack of fussing and mockery calmed his nerves. before you settled in his lap again, you pressed the play button for him, the lewd encounter fading into obscurity as you drifted off once more.
what if he could put himself in those encounters with you? not just… this one, but all sorts of predicaments. he could buy you a bouquet, take you out somewhere, run along the beach with you with the hem of his pants rolled up as the sun sets. he could freely laugh, take all that weight and guilt off his chest as he holds you close.
his hand drifted down, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your arm again, the gesture bringing more comfort to him than you. would you fall for a sappy guy like him? he wouldn’t even have to be given the chance to fall for you a thousand more times.
he just can’t seem to understand why people hate romance movies, can he?
synopsis: he hated the way those cheery holiday lights made him feel so small the night you rejected him. yet, he still answers every time you call. that shred of hope will never die, especially not as it gets cold.
warnings: p in v, biting, kissing/making out, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, friends with benefits type relationship (can be read as reader and lighter get together after the fic), lethal amounts of pining, rejection, grinding/dry humping, nipple sucking/licking, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
notes: crossposted to AO3. merry pissmas losers. ily!!
it was a force of habit, always a call away.
ever since his boxing days, he was a call away.
“hello?” his husky voice could be heard on your end. it was getting cold out, the season lonelier when alone.
“lighter!” you spoke happily, almost relieved he’d answered. when didn’t he answer your call? even when he was busy at the time, he managed to return the call, managed to ask you “what’s up?”
in a heartbeat, you could hear his smile through his words and tone, he filled in the blank. “you want me to come over? you know, it’s the holiday season, can’t leave you feeling lonely.”
you laughed, an involuntary, fond, and soft noise. “yeah, could you do that? it’s been a while since i’ve seen you. …maybe you could be my gift?”
he chuckled on the other end, letting a bit of a snort through, “you bet. i’ll be there soon.”
you could only manage to tidy your bedroom before he was knocking at your door, the knocks gentle but persistent. you opened the door for him, standing in his usual attire. he waved hi, making haste to immediately settle in like it was his home too. “you missed me already?”
lighter’s words carried a teasing lilt to them, “well of course i did.” you answered him honestly, perhaps even a bit shyly. he smirked, the expression not entirely smug, carrying a layer of humility.
“well, i missed you too,” he turned to you after hanging his jacket on the back of the nearest chair, outstretching his arms, “come here.”
you obliged, scoffing at his endearment, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. his hug was secure, full of warmth and strength, a level of love underneath the surface of it all. you and him were quite familiar, your bond deep and connection deeper. he had met you when he was still fighting in the ember arena, misery behind his swollen eyes and bruises littering his battered body. yet, you never took him for what he seemed to be — a ruthless man with nothing but his life to put on the line.
hadn’t it been around this time he first kissed you? when he gave you his breathless confession? he tore off his boxing gloves, nose trickling with blood as his diaphragm stuttered with each breath. lighter had taken a particularly ugly punch to the gut, every last bit of oxygen in his lungs getting beat out of him. it still hurt to breathe, and that punch was sure to leave a hideous bruise on his … washboard abs.
as the champagne-golden and multicolored christmas lights illuminated the streets above and around the city, he huffed out an honest admission. a declaration of deep love, a sparkle igniting behind his dark and tired eyes.
you could only tell him that now wasn’t right. that, as much as you loved him back, he needed to get out of here most, that there was still so much interpersonal work to be done for yourselves. his ego was terribly hurt, the beating he took insurmountable to the pain of a slight rejection. but still, you called.
the attraction was palpable, undeniable, tangible. his name was spoken on your lips like a prayer, reverent and begging for his mercy. you begged him like he wholly owned you. the ache in his ego was replaced with a strange swell of pride, the look in your gaze unmistakable as he approached you. you stared at him with those pretty, twinkling eyes, that look beckoning him for his mercy and cruelty, to treat you as his for another night.
lighter would always oblige you. sure, that pain that shattered his fragile ego mended, and yeah, the way you practically worshipped him inflated it further. he was convinced that not even time could rip you away from him, that as he became a different man with new goals and a better set of priorities, you remained in his life. he turned down everyone, a silent part of his heart naively hoping that eventually you’d throw yourself onto him like a damsel in distress. you’d profess your equally passionate love for him, and that you were ready to be his only. he’d always pick up your call.
lighter loosened his grip slightly, bringing you back to reality as a small bit of chill crept in, “it’s always nice to see you.”
you smiled, the affection in his voice oozing with sincerity. you could feel him beginning to shuffle towards your room, holding you tight as you began to backpedal. he released an arm around you to gingerly shut the door behind him, the limb stretching somewhat awkwardly as he smothered you in himself. you couldn’t complain, the man smelled incredible and he was warm as a radiator.
his hands were immediately on you again, moving upwards to cup your face. he couldn’t stop himself from smooshing your cheeks together, stifling a laugh. lighter dove in to peck your lips, mimicking them with a puckered look of his own, the sight was thoroughly amusing.
he couldn’t stop himself after one kiss, the kisses becoming progressively less silly. his hands lessened the puckered tension of your lips and cheeks. he gently caressed your face with his thumbs as his lips deepened the kiss. his lips grazed yours, every second of contact drove him further into a frenzied need. your lips on his always felt so right, so soft and gentle. the way you tasted left him craving something that was so uniquely you, that couldn’t be emulated or sought anywhere else. his tongue was granted entrance, mingling with yours in a familiar way.
lighter softly groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest. he never got tired of feeling your tongue on his. whatever taste your lips had, your tongue was better, it was stronger. his kiss was heated and passionate, seeking that comfort that you brought his soul, your presence a healing balm. he could bask in it for as long as he lives, until his existence is a fading shred fighting the winds of time. his hands came to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. lighter’s breathing was ragged, eyes carrying the recognizable spark of need behind the darkly tinted lenses.
you stood in front of him, chest bare, your nipples hardening. he could never get tired of those tits, eyes immediately flicking down to look at them. his face was dusted with a soft pink color, peeling off his right glove to get a bare feel. his calloused fingers immediately came up to pinch the nipple softly, rolling it under his thumb and on the side of his index finger. the pressure was enough to make you wince in a delightful pain, drawing your lip between your teeth. his bare hand palmed the swell of your chest, groping as much boob as he could in his large hand. the sensation of your soft skin against his rough palm got him harder than he wanted to admit, you still had that effect on him after years. “…fuuuuck.”
lighter’s curse came out as more of a hiss, a quiet admission of arousal. he quickly pulled off his other glove, letting it carelessly land on your floor next to your shirt. his hands immediately roving back onto your chest, squeezing and kneading as much as he could.
your eyes were lidded, vision growing hazy and careless. you could feel him lift you up, hoisting you high enough to latch his mouth onto one of your tits. his arms were strong and tight around your body, carefully bringing you over to your bed. his mouth was unfocused and lazy, tongue lapping at the bud to stiffen it every time he felt it soften. lighter guided you down onto your sheets, laying himself above you.
lighter’s lips immediately lavished attention onto the other nipple, taking it between his teeth and sucking it with a pop. you could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he laid on you, hips rocking every few seconds. “you have no idea how much i love doing this…” he muttered between breaths.
lighter trailed kisses from your sternum to your clavicle and up your neck. you could feel his breath tickle your ear and his lips drag along your pulse point. his hands travelled down your abdomen, to your lower waist, trailing his tongue down your carotid slowly. lighter savored the whimper you let out for him. “that’s right, baby, let me hear you.”
lighter pressed a sloppy kiss to the junction of your collarbone and neck, tongue licking along the light bite marks he left on your skin to tease you. his fingers pressed into your sides harder, grinding his hips and cock against the flesh of your thigh beneath him.
his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear. lighter parted your thighs with a particularly large and muscular thigh of his own. you carded your fingers through his hair with a sigh, giving him a gentle look. lighter returned it with a smile, letting his lips kiss their way down your body. he replaced his thigh with his face, nuzzling the inside of your thigh as he laid prone on your bed. he pressed his erection into the sheets, grunting as the friction provided him with growing arousal disguised as relief. lighter nipped the inside of your thigh playfully, giving the quivering skin a kiss as a mock apology.
as he dove in, tongue first, he held eye contact with you. he allowed you to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, the sight of you bearable to the rest of the world. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking and kissing the sensitive slit between your legs. your fingers worked in his hair, his arms snaking around your thighs to press you closer to his mouth. he shut his eyes, rolling his hips against the soft sheets beneath him.
you had always been more than bearable in his heart, in his eyes. you were probably the only person rooting for him in an arena full of people cheering on his downfall. it had all become too much, the sights, the sounds, the smells. the sunglasses became his weird coping mechanism, serving more than their original purpose. he could only handle parting with them when he was with you, you were the only person that didn’t look at him harshly. you didn’t tell him to fight for you, you’d be the only person to clean his wounds and wash all the dreaded blood out of his hair.
that kiss he gave you during his confession was the only gift he could give you during the season. he was still flat broke, struggling to keep it together. he wasn’t living his life, he was watching it through those pretty green eyes of his. you were the only one to cut through the zombie-like haze of his mundane life. he had nothing material to provide you with, though his soul screamed at him to fight more matches, scrape up enough money doing odd jobs. yet, the way you looked at him had him feeling like all you wanted was him. although you kissed him back that night, he still couldn’t shake the looming doubt clouding his judgement. those holiday lights were hurting his eyes.
it had him filled with a strange sense of jealousy, envy. they were bright and admired, even through all the years of wear and harsh weather. people loved those lights, they would go out just to see them. they would seek them out, they were the substance of holiday nostalgia, something to decorate with and gawk at. he felt small and incomparable to the barrage of festive lights and cheer that night. it was stupid, he knew, but it was real.
a sharp tug on his hair pulled him out of his thoughts. you were breathing heavily, body shaking with pleasure as he mindlessly ate you out. his tongue was coated with a thick sheen of your cum, pussy quivering as you trembled. he didn’t need to use his fingers to get you to come this time, you must have really missed him. he gave your cunt another thorough lick, a long stripe to collect as much cum as he could on his tongue. it left you in agonizing pleasure, the sensation causing you to buck your hips and sob.
he loved the way you tasted. your skin, your lips, your tongue, even your pussy. he could eat it for days, he would if you’d let him. “can’t get enough.” he swallowed down the rest of your cum on his taste buds, the tangy taste lingering.
he had neglected his own body, too. he could feel the sticky pre-cum pooling in his boxers, cock twitching. his dick was begging him for attention, to at least grind on something, to let him bury himself inside you without a thought. his eyes were glassy, his stare magnetic and alluring. lighter’s hair was tousled and messy, his green eyes shining with arousal. it had you wishing he didn’t hide those pretty eyes away from the world, remembering that you’re lucky he still has them, even after all those black eyes and that horrible injury he sustained years ago.
he rose, settling himself differently between your thighs. your body was trembling, but your eyes conveyed full trust in him. you watched as he lifted off his own skin-tight undershirt, the scars along his body speckling his skin. the texture was different from his much softer skin, each with its own unique story. had he listened to you, maybe he wouldn’t have half of them. you still diligently kissed each one when you could, caressing his chest lovingly. his scars were never something he was ashamed of, just a reminder of reality, a reminder that the world isn't what it seems. you say they make him look sexy, so that isn’t half bad either.
the dog-tags around his neck jingled as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside with the rest of the clothes on the floor. he couldn’t be reminded to care, palming the prominent bulge in his pants instead. his face was red with lust, sweat dripping from his chest and beading around his hairline, soaking into his soft locks. lighter deftly unzipped his fly, reaching down into his boxers with a sultry drag of his fingers. he traced them down his lower abs, lower, lower…
you could see the outline of his hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers, eventually freeing his dick from its confines. his size never failed to take your breath away, lighter still had to break you in each time. years of fucking, yet you could never get fully used to his cock. he stroked it a few times with a heavy sigh, a noise he reserved for his time with you. “nobody one could get me hard like you,” he mused, “i don’t think i can get hard thinking about anyone that isn’t you at this point. you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”
fuck, if that didn’t turn you on… you moaned, squirming and writhing in arousal, just from his honest thoughts. “lighter, take me. i don’t want anyone else’s dick, just yours.” your voice was strained, laden with burning hot need. you could feel the coil in your gut tighten with every one of his grunts. his voice was so sexy and deep, so smooth and soothing, soft when he wanted it to be.
“i thought you’d never ask,” lighter teased, collecting your wetness at the head of his cock, pushing in slightly with just the tip. you let out a whine, the sound throaty. you looked to him, who was already looking down at you with a loving smile. he pulled back out, the tip of his cock barely slid inside you. lighter’s hand came up to stabilize your leg at the hamstrings, the other aiding his cock inside with practiced ease. he winced in deep pleasure as your pussy graciously accepted his length, you were much wetter than usual too.
he couldn’t help but throw his head back after your cunt took the fattest part of his cock, burying himself to the base, his shaft coated in your wetness. “fuck, you want all of this?”
you gasped as he rocked his hips further into yours, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. you grit your teeth, jaw held tight as he pulled out slowly, dragging his hips out, before slamming back in. he took note of the lewd expression you made, jaw loosening as he fucked back into you, each thrust faster than the last, the pause in between shortening. you looked so hot like that, taking his dick just as you should. it’s got him realizing his love for you has grown even more over the years. it felt less like a trauma bond, blossoming into a deep and profound appreciation, an attraction that his brain can’t handle processing without short-circuiting a little bit. lighter’s expression mirrored yours, his face flushed, hair sticking to his face as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held it.
he had gradually increased his pace, the sound of skin against skin gradually getting louder. your bed started to rock against the wall, his hands grabbing the undersides of your thighs tightly. he didn’t dare to look away from you, from your eyes. your pussy was already an eyeful, getting all wet and tight like that, but fuck, the faces you made as you got close made him even harder. hard enough to dick you down into your mattress.
lighter hadn’t silenced you at all, matching your moans with fervor. his hips slammed against yours, groaning and huffing louder. his muscles were wound with the same tightness and tension as yours, your pussy getting unbearably tight with every shaky exhale. “come on, that’s it, lemme hear you. let me feel you come on me, i want you to cum on my dick. can you do that? fuck, fuck…”
his brows furrowed in concentration, his rhythmically rocking into you with a brutal force. the bed frame was squeaking and moving underneath you both, masked by the shared sounds of pleasure and sex. the intense pressure in your gut was rearing its head, coming to a climax, little babbles falling from your lips. “lighter, gonna— i’ll, fuck, ohh… fuck, fuck, lighter! lighter!”
your hips frantically pushed against his, beckoning him deeper, harder. with a particularly loud mewl, your back arched off the bed, wailing in pleasure as your climax washed over every tense muscle in your body. lighter didn’t stop, the pace maintained and ruthless as he chased his own orgasm. “yeah? yeah, just like that, you feel too fuckin’ good. think i’m gonna cum too.” a faint jingle could be heard in the heat of passion, the silver colored dog-tags dangling off his neck with each thrust. “take care of this pussy every time you want me, oh, fuck—”
his final words were strained with pleasure, his own body twitching as his balls drew up tight. he rutted his hips a few times in and out, fucking his cum into you with uncharacteristically deep and desperate moans. his hands shook, palms clammy and body quivering with the after effects of sex.
lighter leaned down to give you a tentative kiss, one akin to the first gift he ever gave you. it was slow, explorative, devoted. he leaned into your neck, nibbling on your ear affectionately, “how is that for a gift?”
“…good enough for me to reconsider our relationship.”
he dedicates himself to you as he does a match, his passion, his entire reason to live. his reason to fight back. his reason to stay a while longer. to endure.
you make it bearable to breathe. he could breathe you in like youre the air he needs, hed probably choke himself to death trying to keep you in. he’s never gonna let go.
and hes scared. hes scared of you going, one way or another. he doesnt want to confront the inevitability of death again, no, no you wont die. not with him around. nobody will go, thats not possible.
he clings, he lingers, he stays like a cowlick. like a stray thread clinging to the last scrap of fabric. like ink that just wont wash out. he’s everywhere you go, and everywhere youre not. that specific shade of red, the hue of the sunset, boots and leather jackets, the same green that you see in his eyes. you know, the one.
maybe its a little suffocating and overwhelming. he does as he does, smothering your existence in his own, taking you until theres nothing left to have and twice the amount of him. he exists — forever.
he defies death, but he refuses to live in anything but you. your memory, your skin, your soul, your clothes and your scent. he forever clings. he holds onto you because youre dear life and … maybe he is death?
but no, he dare not let you die the way he would himself.
and you make every sleepless night easier, even as he cannot rest, as his eyes and mind cannot grow weary despite his body, you pressed right against him fights a little of the pain away. his tense body can finally soften some as your flesh stays warm — alive — under his palms.
lighter is an oxymoron.
lighter is a hypocrite.
lighter is alive, even in death.
lighter is dead, even with every breath.
lighter is stuck, yet gone with every fleeting moment.
synopsis: the one word senior ye would use to describe you is “unpredictable.” at times, shiyuan is unpredictable, too.
contents: masturbation, sexual repression, ye shiyuan is sexually represssed, shame, loss of control, shameful masturbation, ye shiyuan loses his discipline, masturbating, sexual fantasy, power dynamics, ye shiyuan is your senior, implied power imbalance. 18+ MINORS DNI
notes: crossposted to AO3, please a-yuan lemme hit
the one word senior ye would use to describe you is “unpredictable.”
you were utterly reckless at times, just short of moronic. he wondered at times— do you even think about what you’re doing?
ever since you came to waifei peninsula, ever since you joined yunkui summit, you’ve been a bit of a headache as his junior. but, no, you weren’t stupid… and maybe you did know what you were doing.
shiyuan laid in his bed, the rickety wooden frame accommodating the curve of his spine, his body restless and shifting from side to side. he laid on his left side, grunted, rolled to the right, groaned. his mind kept bouncing back to you, much to his dismay. ye shiyuan’s brows furrowed, focusing on the closest thing to him, which happened to be his glasses resting on the nightstand.
a part of him wondered what you were doing, if you were up to the same stupid things you always did. you could be sneaking out, spending whatever money you had left at yum cha sin, you tapping away at the glass that covered the bangboo vending machine, your face smushed against the clear pane.
he huffed unconsciously, his muscles wound with tension that had nothing to do with his martial arts training. he shifted again, settling on his back, the thin sheet annoying him in a way he couldn’t quite describe. his brown hair was splayed out on the pillow nestled under his neck and head, eyes focused on the ceiling above him.
no matter what: he just cannot sleep. no matter what he tries.
the more he moved around on his bed, trying to get comfortable, the less he was, and as he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts only got worse and worse.
shiyuan rubbed a hand over his face, fingers dragging his fair skin downwards. he lolled his head to the right again, his gaze fixed on the intricate design of his nightstand. the handle was a bronze-gold color, adorned with delicate designs, the wood was a gorgeous maple, stained with a deep color that complimented its accents. he was desperately trying everything to ignore the beckoning heat in his core.
shiyuan never feels like this— he has more discipline than that. even if he can’t bring himself to sleep at night, never do those feelings, those thoughts, fester. his hand slid down to his lips, covering his mouth entirely as he winced. tonight, this was entirely un-ignorable.
sweat began to bead at his forehead, close to his hairline, slowly rolling down to his furrowed brow. he could feel a noxious dread mixing with years of pent-up lust brewing deep in his chest and his lower stomach. ye shiyuan knew better than to let it get to him, why are you getting to him? is this another one of your little tricks?
his hand trembled down, shamefully, towards the waistband of his pants. he flinched as his palm rested on his clothed erection, warm and stiff to the touch. shiyuan swore to himself that he knew better than to touch himself, that it was a lapse in his judgment, he shouldn’t be doing something so shameful, but as his palmed his cock some more, his resolve wavered. nobody had to know.
his breaths came in slow, deliberately measured puffs, careful not to bring attention to himself somehow, his hyper vigilance like second nature. he looked around his room once, twice, eyes darting from left to right to left, though he knew he was alone, before snaking his hand into his pants and boxers.
shaking like a wet dog, shiyuan finally grabbed his bare cock, shivering at the feverish, explicit touch. his willpower slowly left him, evaporating into his bed like the sweat dampening his sheets and clothes. he shouldn’t be thinking about his junior in such a way, especially not someone so level-headed like him. not once has his thinking been so foggy, so… lewd.
he arched into his own touch, thumbing his cock, smearing his precum over his shaft, stifling a soft noise in the dead of night. he wanted to crawl out of his own skin knowing what he’s doing, the shame eating him from the inside all the way out, but it feels so, so good. with each wave of shame, a deeper, fuller wave of pleasure coursed through his body. he began to stroke himself in a consistent rhythm, his thinking in tandem with his hand. his thoughts continuously circled back to you, touching himself to the way he remembered your smile, your soft laugh, the one or two times he accidentally looked at your boobs. maybe he shouldn’t have appreciated them the way he did those off-handed times. it was slightly perverse, but it’s pretty normal for guys to kinda do that… right?
he bit back a few more soft noises, feeling the heat building within his well-built muscles. with every flex of his muscles, with every stroke and touch of his own hand, he lost himself in the deep pleasure. he couldn’t quite remember the last time he let himself do this. fuck the shame, fuck the wrongness of all this. it felt so good to let loose for once, to shed himself of the shackling restraint he always bares.
his eyes screwed shut, gritting his teeth as his hand worked faster on his shaft, his non-dominant flying to his mouth to cover a desperate squeak. he was so close, his thoughts fuzzy and disconnected from all reason, from his own body. fuck, he was about to cum, yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore about the recklessness of it all. he didn’t care about his shame, from what he should and shouldn’t be doing. you’ve got amazing tits.
with a strangled, muffled groan, ye shiyuan threw his head back as far as he could, his bare chest rising and falling, skin slick with sweat. he stroked faster, feeling the cum spill out onto his body. his climax was wholly overwhelming, draining his balls onto his own chest, his mind finally silent for once, vision hazy, his body and brain completely disconnected.
shiyuan supposed at times he could be unpredictable, too. he never thought he had it in him to throw away all his discipline, especially for someone like you, his own junior. he couldn’t predict cumming on his own chest, huffing and gasping for air like he’d been starved, just ‘cause of you…
to hell with it, though. maybe that’s why you do the shit you do, because it’s fun. because it feels good. he can’t blame you much, if so. shiyuan won’t admit it aloud but he loves the lewd, hot feeling of shooting ropes and the way his body gets all tense when he’s about to cum.
a newfound part of ye shiyuan wants nothing more, now, than to burn away the rest of his discipline— as shameful and condemnable it is.
haven’t even played zzz and there’s already an account dedicated to lighter? hear me out because lighter wouldn’t know how to properly ask someone he likes out and watch as his crew (the sons) become his best wingwomen
hello hii!! ive had this account for a solid two years haha. my account is always dedicated to the current husband of choice. its a mini-ism thing (TRADEMARK THAT!!)
im listening, im hearing you out now… as for wingwomen, piper would tell him not to go overboard with the “i have to look cool and impress them!!” she wouldn’t meddle too much, just warning him not to overdo it and chase you away.
caesar recommends the classic dinner date and flowers, insisting he has to dress in a handsome three piece suit and pick you up in a nice car. she seems enamored with the idea, almost like she wants that for herself too.
lucy would tell him to splurge. spend all your money! nice dinners and cute clothes, whatever you want or need. provide a life of comfy luxury, people still like that, right?
burnice takes the opportunity to gossip, poking and prodding for every juicy detail she can get. one thing stuck, though: “people who like cute animals are sooo worth keeping around!” should he take you to an animal shelter? either way, she got what she wanted out of him after going drink for drink. she won.
but big daddy? he had the most authentic advice. “just be yourself, lighter.” be himself? it works, he supposed, what purpose does it serve trying to attract you if he isn’t genuine with you? if he’s not lighter? it was hard to admit that he’d needed advice, especially for dating, but big daddy was always the least judgmental out of the rest of the crew. you should like lighter for himself, raw and unfiltered.
I tried so hard NOT to fall for lighter but damnit your fic just made me fall so HARD FOR HIM???!?
Now I just can’t stop thinking about lighter who used to fight and win battles alone now comes back to you congratulating him/praising him for his victory?? Like imagine him coming home like a zombie only to light up seeing you cooking noodles or something and it instantly lights up his day????
I’m going insane what have you done to me (pls keep going) - ❄️
I WIN!!!! i did it!! im winning! im terribly flattered right now hehehe, cant say i dont love a good domestic lighter though. just a rough guy that melts in his dearly beloved’s arms… swoons…
it still stuns him, coming home to the smell of dinner being cooked. it took a while to get used to coming home, even when he was alone. with you here, cooking dinner, he could nearly faint remembering. it was always so rough trudging home and mustering up the strength to maybe put something in the microwave. oftentimes he would just shower and go to bed, thinking he’d eat in the morning and worry about everything else later.
those days blurred into strenuous weeks and brutal months. he still fumbles with the key, meticulously digging it out of his pockets and turning the lock, but the comforting smell of dinner and a home punches him right in the face again. those days are long gone, though they still haunt him like a shadow, replaced by the intricate relationships of his weird, (mostly) blonde biker companions.
yet, everything on his shoulders seems to melt away when you hug him and tell him you missed him and that you love him. when you kiss him on the cheek and say, “i made this for you! i know you like it.” he happily eats anything you make him, he eagerly hugs you back with the same hands that he uses to hurt. there’s nothing to hurt here, nothing to be tactful and wary of, nobody to appease and impress. nothing to lose.
