Summary: you donât realize how much youâve been shrinking yourself to fit into someone elseâs life until youâre forced to look at the pieces. It starts with an Olympic gold medal and a boyfriend who laughs when your entire sport is treated like a political punchline. But it shifts with Sidney Crosby in the Milan cold, pointing out the devastating difference between a boy you have to make excuses for and a man who actually respects you. Sometimes, moving on isnât just a breakup ⌠itâs an absolute upgrade
Pairing : Brahms Heelshire x f!afab!reader
Summary : After a fight, Brahms ignored you all day. Sadly for him, you receive a message from the flirty delivery man and decide that you want to get out of the manor... with the delivery man. And sadly for him, he'll realise too late that he should have never texted you.
Warnings : smut, blood play, sub!Brahms like VERY sub, death, good boy nickname used, kind of necrophilia (because a corpse is involved but NO intercourse with it), violence, begging, p in v, cuni, f in v
MINORS DNI
A/N : first time posting smut, kind of nervous, but in the hopes the freaks will enjoy it :) And also, english isn't my first language so, sorry for any mistakes!
You had learned every sounds of the house. The groan of old wood when the wind pressed too hard against the manorâs bones, the whisper of air sliding through passages that were not supposed to exist, the faint, careful shifting inside the walls that no one else ever noticed, yet you did. You knew Brahms was there even when you couldnât see him and that was the problem.Â
The fight had been stupid, you knew that and he also knew that. It had started with something insignificant, something that should have been laughed off, but Brahms didnât laugh. He bristled instead, voice sharp through the walls, defensive in that wounded, childlike way he had when he felt cornered. You had snapped back for the first time, tired of walking on eggshells, tired of measuring every word so he wouldnât take it as abandonment and most of all, tired of apologizing first. You told him he couldnât control everything to which he told you you didnât understand anything. The silence after that had been deafening. Usually, even when Brahms was sulking, he never stayed away for long. He would pace inside the walls, restless, his presence heavy and obvious. He would knock once, maybe twice, just to let you know he was still there. Sometimes he would speak your name softly, like he was testing whether it still belonged to him.Â
Yet today, there was nothing. No shifting, no knocking and no low, familiar voice following you from room to room. The house felt empty in a way it never had before, like the old manor was angry at you too. You tried to distract yourself as you cleaned, even though the manor didnât really get dirty, you also reorganized shelves that didnât need reorganizing. You even put the kettle on and forgot about it until the water went cold again. By late afternoon, frustration had settled in your chest like a weight. By evening, it had twisted into something worse. You sat on the edge of your bed, fingers clenched in the fabric of your sweater, staring at the wall where you knew he usually lingered. This was where he always came when you were upset, where he would lean close from the other side, voice low and almost shy, asking what was wrong even when he already knew. Your throat tightened. When the first tear slipped down your cheek, you waited. You waited for the familiar sound of movement, the hurried shift of someone who couldnât stand your crying for long. You waited for his voice, rough and uneven, telling you not to cry, telling you he didnât like it when you cried. Yet, nothing happened. Another tear followed, then another, until your chest hurt as your breathing went uneven. You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stay quiet, even though you had never needed to hide this from him before. He didnât come, that was what broke you. The thought slid in quietly, cruel and persistent. Maybe he didnât care as much as you thought, maybe you were just something familiar, something convenient, someone to talk to when he felt lonely, but not someone he actually wanted. You had always known your feelings were one-sided. You never said it out loud, never dared to, but you felt it in the way your stomach fluttered when he said your name, in the way you lingered near the walls even when there was nothing to hear, just in case he might speak. Maybe you had imagined all of it, maybe you really just were the ânannyâ and that was it.Â
Your phone buzzed in your hand before you realized you had picked it up. The grocery boyâs name sat there in your contacts, painfully normal as he just told you what time heâll be coming tomorrow for the delivery. He smiled too much, lingered too long when you paid and always found excuses to ask how you were doing here, all alone in this big scary house. You had brushed it off before, loyal in a way that felt ridiculous now. Your thumb hovered over the screen. You told yourself you just needed a distraction. Someone real and visible. Someone who could walk beside you without hiding in the walls, leaving you completely alone simply because you talked back. You typed quickly before you could overthink it. âAre you busy tonight?â The reply came almost instantly, the words âNot at all. Why?â appearing underneath your text. Your chest tightened, not with excitement, but with something sharp and reckless. âDo you want to hang out? Get a drink or something?â Another buzz. âYeah! Iâd really like that ;)âÂ
You stared at the screen, your lips pulling into a small, bitter smile. It felt too easy. Fine, then. You stood up abruptly, swiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. You didnât bother changing, didnât even bother fixing your hair or checking your reflection. If Brahms didnât care, why should you? You grabbed your coat and headed for the door, steps quick and purposeful. The manor loomed around you, tall and watchful, as if it already knew what you were about to do.
âIâm going out to get groceries!â you called aloud, voice tight and sharp as you descended the stairs.
The words had barely left your mouth when the house answered. A sudden rush of movement tore through the walls, loud and unmistakable. Footsteps, hurried and uneven, chasing you from behind the plaster. The sound of someone moving too fast in a space that barely contained him. Your heart skipped, anger flaring hotter than relief. Now he moves, suddenly he's there. You didnât stop and you certainly didnât slow down as you wrenched the front door open and stepped out into the cold air, slamming it shut behind you without looking back. As you ran toward your car, keys clenched in your hand, you let the words spill out, breathless and bitter.
âSo now he cares about me.â
You didnât see him, but inside the walls, something hit hard against the wood, once, like a fist, like a warning.
ââ
By the time you remembered the bar clearly, it felt like it had happened to someone else. Two hours bled together in warm light and loud music, the air thick with alcohol and laughter that wasnât quite yours. Mark talked a lot. About work mostly, about how quiet the village was, about how he always thought it must be lonely living in that manor by yourself like he always told you. You nodded, smiled when expected to and drank until your glass was empty as you let the noise swallow the thoughts you didnât want to have. You didnât think about Brahms⌠Well, you tried not to at least. When you stood up to leave, the bar tilted unpleasantly, the floor shifting under your feet. You laughed it off, but it was cut short as Markâs hand was suddenly on your arm, steadying you.
âYouâre not driving.â he said, firm but still smiling. âNo way.â
You started to argue out of habit, but the words tangled in your mouth, your thoughts slow and fuzzy. He offered an easy solution; said heâd drive you home, that heâd bring the groceries by tomorrow and drive you back here so you could get your car back. It sounded reasonable in your drunken state so, you agreed before you really understood what you were agreeing to.
And that's how you ended up standing in front of the door of the manor, keys trembling in your hand while you frowned at them like they were written in another language. Your fingers wouldnât cooperate, like, at all. Mark stood just behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath when he laughed softly.
âWant some help?â
âIâm okay.â you muttered, stubborn even now. âYou can go home, thanks.â
He didnât move. You shifted, trying again, and that was when the keys slipped from your hand, clattering loudly against the stone. He laughed as you groaned loudly.
âReally?â
Before you could bend down to pick them up, he did it for you, straightening with the keys already in hand as you extended your palm to him. Yet he didnât give them back. Instead, he stepped closer, too close, his chest brushing your back as he reached around you to slide the key into the lock. You froze, breath hitching, suddenly very aware of how little space there was between you. The door opened. Inside, the house greeted you with its familiar cold, the air heavy and still. Mark stepped in after you, locking the door behind him and setting the keys down on the small table by the entrance like he lived here. You exhaled shakily when you bent to take your shoes off, the world tilting again. Your knee buckled, and before you could even gasp, his hands were on you, catching you easily.
âWhoa there!â he snickered, steering you to the chair near the door. âSit. Iâve got you.â
âThank youâŚâ you mumbled, embarrassed, heart thudding too fast.
You reached down again to take your shoes off, but he was already kneeling in front of you.
âRelax would you.â he teased lightly, fingers already at your ankle as he slipped your shoe off.Â
The intimacy of it made heat rush to your face, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. He didnât seem to notice, or didnât care, humming to himself as he took off the other one and set them aside. Thatâs when the wall behind you shuddered. A loud, violent bang that echoed through the entryway, sharp enough to make you flinch. Mark jumped too, eyes wide for a split second before he laughed it off.
âDamn! This place really does make noise.â
âItâs old.â you said quickly. âItâs normal.â
You knew exactly what that sound was, who made it. Anger flared inside you, hot and reckless. If Brahms cared, he had plenty of chances to show it. He hadnât. This was just proof of what youâd already told yourself. Fine. You let out a low groan, exaggerating it just enough. Mark turned immediately.Â
âYou okay?â
âMy feet hurt.â you whispered, voice slurred but convincing enough.
He chuckled. âWant help upstairs?â
You nodded. When he reached for your arm to help you stand, you caught his wrist instead, fingers curling weakly around it.
âCould you⌠carry me?â you asked, half hoping for him to say no.
He blinked, surprised, then grinned, the alcohol making him bold.Â
âYeah! Yeah, I can do that, of course.â
He scooped you up before you could second-guess yourself, holding you bridal-style like it was nothing. Another violent bang thundered through the house, followed by a sound that wasnât quite a crash, neither quite a word, but you knew it better than anything else. A strained, furious noise that made your pulse spike. Your cheeks burned. Heâs just angry because you're supposed to be taking care of him right now, you told yourself. Nothing else. Mark glanced down at you as he started walking up the stairs, noticing the color in your face.Â
âYouâre cute when you blush.â
His hand shifted as he climbed, sliding higher along your side. It made your skin crawl, realisation of the situation you just put yourself in hitting down on you, the discomfort of it cutting through the haze just enough for you to tense. You forced a polite laugh, answering his flirting without really meaning any of it. When he finally reached the top of the stairs, he asked where your room was, you pointed down the hall and tried to slide out of his arms once he reached the landing.
âIâm okay now.â you said with a polite smile. âReally, thank you. Iâm just going to sleep.â
He didnât let go. Instead, he tightened his grip, smile fading into something sharper.Â
âNo youâre not.â
Your brow furrowed as he suddenly walked faster, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. Inside the walls, something moved quickly, violently, the sound of someone running parallel to you, trapped and furious. Before you could protest again, the bedroom door opened and the world spun as he tossed you onto your bed. Before you had time to sit, the mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed on top of you, arms bracketing your head, blocking the light.
âGet off!â you yelped, panic finally slicing clean through the alcohol.Â
You tried to push him, but he was stronger, heavier.Â
âDonât act like you didnât want this.â He scoffed, his then soft gaze suddenly harshly. âYouâve been leading me on all nightââ
âNo I haven't ! Get off me!â
His hands moved, roaming where they shouldnât, and fear flooded your chest, cold and sharp. The house groaned around you, walls creaking violently now, the air vibrating with something dark and furious drawing closer. Thankfully, Mark doesnât get the opportunity to finish whatever disgusting act he was trying to start. One second his weight is pinning you to the mattress, his voice loud and ugly in your ears, and the next heâs gone. Not pushed nor pulled gently off you, but ripped. Markâs body is yanked backward so violently, you barely register whatâs happening until thereâs a sickening thud at the foot of the bed. The impact rattles the floor, the walls and even the air itself. You blink, stunned, lungs burning as you scramble upright, heart slamming against your ribs.
âWhat the fââ Mark shouts, scrambling on the ground, panic bleeding into his voice. âWho the fuck are you?!â
You sit up just in time to see who heâs talking to. Brahms. Heâs standing over Mark, shoulders heaving, chest rising and falling like heâs just run for miles. His mask is on, stark and pale in the low light, cracked porcelain hiding everything except the fury pouring out of him. His hands are clenched so tight theyâre shaking, his knuckles turning almost as white as his mask. Mark tries to get up, swearing, fear finally settling into his cocky expression, but he doesnât make it far as Brahms throws himself on him with a guttural animalistic groan, all restraint gone. His weight crashes down hard, and then again, and again, slamming Markâs body into the floor with brutal force. The sound is awful, dull and heavy, echoing through the room. Markâs curses dissolve into cries, then into desperate, panicked noises that make your stomach churn. Brahms whines as he does it, the sound raw, like anger and grief tangled together with no way out. He hits him against the floor again, harder this time, movements wild and uncoordinated, as if heâs past thinking, past control.
âStop!â you scream, scrambling off the bed.
You grab Brahms shoulders from behind, pulling with everything you have, nails digging into the fabric of his clothes. He doesnât even flinch. Itâs like trying to move a wall, like trying to stop someone thatâs already decided how this ends.
âBrahms, stop!â you shout again, voice cracking.
He doesnât hear you. So, you drop to your knees beside him, hands grabbing at his arms now, trying to hold them back as he slams Mark down again and again. Your hands suddenly slip as you pull, slick with something warm. Your breath hitches as you realize thereâs blood now, splattering across the floor, staining Brahmsâs sleeves and now your own shaking fingers.
âPlease stop!â you cry, tears blurring your vision.Â
Brahms snarls, voice tearing out of him as he shakes Mark again, face inches from his.
âMine!â he yells, the word ripping through the room. âMine! Mine! Mine!â
The word hits you harder than the violence.
âBrahms!â you scream, louder than him, the sound raw and desperate. âStop this right now!â
Everything freezes. Brahmsâs body goes rigid beneath your hands as you grab hold of them, arm raised mid-motion. Slowly, like heâs waking up from a dream, he lowers Mark, head lifting. He looks at you. The mask is still there, hiding his face, but his eyes are visible through the dark hollows, red and wet, glossy with tears that cling to his lashes. He looks shattered, lost even, as if heâs just realized where he is and what heâs done. His breathing stutters, uneven and broken, chest hitching painfully. Youâre gasping too, shaking from head to toe, forcing yourself not to look down at Markâs crumpled body beneath him, not to think about the blood on your hands.Â
For a moment, the only sound in the room is both of you trying to breathe. Brahms doesnât move until he finally lets go, making Markâs body slump heavily to the floor, unmoving now, a dead weight that makes your stomach twist when you finally register the stillness of it. You donât look for long, you canât. Your eyes barely have time to look back before Brahms moves. He turns towards you suddenly, collapsing into you with a broken sound, his masked face pressing into the crook of your neck like he needs your scent to breathe again. His shoulders shake violently, sobs tearing out of him in harsh, uneven gasps. His voice is muffled against his mask and your skin, words tumbling over each other in a rush.
âI thought you left!â he chokes. âYou were gone! I called and you didnât answer! I thought you didnât want me anymoreââ
Your heart slams against your ribs so hard it almost hurts. For a split second, you donât move. Shock pins you in place, your hands hovering uselessly in the air as his weight leans into you, desperate and clinging. Then something strange settles in your chest, warm and dizzying and wrong in a way that almost makes you nauseous. He was scared. Not angry, not possessive just to be, simply scared you had abandoned him. And the realization makes something inside you soften, even as blood stains the floor beneath you and both your bodies.Â
Slowly, you wrap one arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand comes up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his dark, tangled curls without thinking. Your hand is still slick and red, yet you donât pull it away. The moment you touch him, Brahms snap. His arms wrap around you with startling force, crushing you against him like heâs afraid you might disappear again if he loosens his grip even a little. He drags you down with him until youâre fully sitting on the floor, your knees folding awkwardly beneath you. One of his legs slides between yours, anchoring you there, body pressed close, enclosing you completely.
âDonâtââ he sobs, voice cracking. âDonât ever do that again! Donât go away, donât leave me alone!â
His grip tightens as he speaks, hands trembling as they clutch at your back, your coat, your shirt, anywhere he can hold. He rocks slightly, forehead pressing harder into your neck, like heâs trying to burrow into you, to hide inside you.
âI waited.â he whispers hoarsely. âI waited for you to come back to me.â
His breathing is uneven against your skin, hot and shaky, every word spilling out like heâs been holding it in for too long. He sounds small despite his size, undone despite the violence that came before, desperation bleeding through every movement.
âPleaseâŚPlease donât leave me like that againâŚâ
He begs again and again, the word barely more than a breath. He clings to you like youâre the only thing keeping him upright. Youâre the only thing he has. Heâs shaking so hard you can feel it through your whole body. Brahms clings to you like heâs afraid the moment he loosens his grip youâll vanish, arms locked tight around your waist, fingers digging in as if to anchor himself. His forehead presses into your neck harder, breath hitching, every inhale uneven and desperate.
âI didnât mean to scare you.â he mumbles, words tumbling over each other, voice small now, stripped raw of the rage that came before. âI don't want to hurt you.â
You swallow, heart pounding, the weight of him heavy but grounding. Carefully, you shift your arms more securely around him, one hand rubbing slow circles into his back.
âI didnât leave forever.â you murmur, voice low, steady despite the tremor in your chest. âIâm here now.â
His breath stutters at that.
âYou are?â he whispers, like he needs to hear it again to believe it.
âYes, Iâm here.â
His grip tightens painfully for a second, then eases just enough to pull his head back. He looks up at you, eyes glassy behind the mask, red-rimmed and searching your face like heâs waiting for you to take the words back.
âYou wonât leave again?â he asks, barely audible.
The need in his voice twists something deep in your chest. You bring your hand up to cradle the side of his head, thumb brushing along the edge of the mask, grounding him.Â
âI wonât disappear like that again. But you canât shut me out like you did either, you scared me.â
âIâll be good, Iâll listen! Iâll do whatever you want, just donât leave me!â
The words spill out fast, panicked, like heâs afraid if he stops talking youâll suddenly change your mind. He leans forward again, pressing himself closer, head bowing submissively toward your chest, posture folding inward.
âI need you.â he admits, voice cracking. âI donât like when youâre mad at me, I donât like when you donât talk to me or when I'm not near you.â
You let out a shaky breath, fingers tightening slightly in his hair, holding him there.Â
âThen donât run away when we fight.â you say gently. âStay. Talk to me.â
He nods against you immediately, too fast, his desperation evident.Â
âI will, I promise! I wonât hide, I wonât go back in the wallsââ He pauses, then adds quietly, âUnless you tell me to.â
You tilt his head up just enough so he has to look at you.Â
âYou donât have to disappear to make me stay, I donât want you gone.â
His breath catches, a soft, broken sound tearing out of him. âYou want me?â
You donât answer right away. Instead, you pull him closer, forehead resting gently against his mask, grounding both of you in the moment.
âIâm here.â you repeat. âThat should tell you enough.â
Thatâs all it takes. Brahms melts into you completely, tension draining out of his body as if heâs finally allowed to stop holding himself together. His arms wrap around you again, this time less frantic, more reverent, like heâs afraid to squeeze too hard and break the moment. He stays there, breathing you in, clinging quietly, submissive in the way he leans into your touch, waiting for reassurance, for permission to stay. His breathing suddenly changes. You feel it before you hear it, the way his chest presses closer, his body shifting against yours, unconsciously seeking more contact, more reassurance than words can give him. His grip tightens again.
âMineâŚâ he whispers. The word slips out broken, almost embarrassed, like he didnât mean to say it aloud. But then it comes again, louder this time. âMine... Mine...â
Each repetition vibrates against you, sending a shiver through your spine. His leg shifts slightly, grounding him closer, anchoring himself there as if heâs afraid youâll slip away if thereâs even an inch of space left between you. You inhale sharply. His head lowers, pressing into your chest now, mask brushing against you as he bows forward, posture folding in on itself again. The sound he makes is quiet, almost involuntary, a low, needy noise that he seems unaware of, like itâs pulled straight from his chest.
âIâm yours.â he murmurs, words tangled, desperate. âI stayed and I waited. I didnât want anyone else.â
His hands move only to hold you tighter, fingers curling into your clothes, his whole body leaning into yours like he needs your warmth to steady himself. He trembles again, restrained only by the way he hesitates, like heâs waiting for you to stop him, to push him away, to say no. Instead, you stay still, heart racing, the weight of him overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. The house creaks softly around you, settling back into silence. Brahms doesnât lift his head, he just stays there, murmuring the word like a prayer, like a promise, like something heâs been afraid to claim until now.
âMine.â he says again, harsher this time.
You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt, his mask cool and unyielding against your skin. The blood on his arms has smeared slightly onto your sleeves where he holds you, a sticky reminder of the violence that brought you here. It's not revulsion that stirs in you, it's something deeper, a twisted pull toward the raw protectiveness he unleashed for you. Your fingers, still stained with flecks of red from trying to pull him off Mark, trace lightly along the edge of his mask, careful not to dislodge it, but enough to let him know you're not pulling away. Brahms shudders at the touch, his body going pliant under your hand like he's been waiting lifetimes for this permission. He nuzzles closer, the porcelain pressing into the swell of your breasts, his shaking hands sliding down to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to anchor himself without demanding. The tremor in his frame isn't from fear anymore; it's hunger, barely leashed, as if every inch of him aches to press further, to dissolve the barriers between you.
âPlease, I need you.â he whines, the word muffled against you, raw and pleading.Â
His fingers dig in a fraction more, thumbs brushing the curve of your waist, testing how far he can go before you push him off. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the way his thighs shift restlessly, brushing against yours in the dim light of the room. The air hangs heavy with the metallic tang of blood mixed with the faint musty scent of the old house, but it's his need that fills the space, thick and undeniable.Â
You tilt your head down, your lips grazing the top of his mask in a feather-light kiss, and he whimpers at the contact, a low, broken sound that vibrates through his chest into yours. It's the first crack in his restraint, and you see it then, truly see it, how he's unraveling for you, how every fiber of him is wired to submit, to beg with his body because words fail him. Your heart pounds, a rush of realization hitting you. He doesn't just want you, he has been starving for this in the walls of the manor. Slowly, you slide your hand from the mask to the nape of his neck, fingers threading into the wild curls peeking out. He arches into it instinctively, a soft gasp escaping him as you tug gently, guiding his head back just enough to meet his eyes through the dark slits.
âShow me.â you whisper, your voice steady despite the fire building low in your belly. "Show me how much you need me."
His response is immediate due to his desperation. He completely drops to his knees before you, hands trailing down your sides, palms pressing flat against your thighs as if to memorize every curve. Bloodied fingers leave faint streaks on your pants, and he pauses, eyes flicking up through the mask, waiting for rejection. When none comes, he exhales shakily and leans in, forehead resting against your abdomen, lips parting behind the porcelain to murmur against the fabric.
âAll for you.â he says, voice cracking. âEverything... for you.â
His hands slide upward, thumbs circling the insides of your thighs, inching higher with agonizing slowness, each movement a question you answer by not stopping him. You feel the tremor in his touch, the way he fights to keep it gentle, even as his breathing grows ragged, hips shifting subtly on the floor like he can't help grinding against the air for friction. The room feels smaller now, the creaks of the house fading as his world narrows to you. You reach down, cupping his jaw through the mask, tilting it up so he has to look at you fully. The blood on your fingers smudges against the porcelain, mixing with the splatters already there, and something possessive flares in you at the sight, marking him back, claiming the monster who claimed you first.
âGood boy.â
He moans at the words, a high, needy sound that makes your core clench. His hands freeze on your thighs, then resume, bolder now, fingers hooking into your waistband, waiting, always waiting, for your order. The desperation in him is palpable, a live wire humming under his skin, and you realize with a thrill that you hold all the power here. He'd let you do anything, take anything, as long as you don't leave. You step back just enough to shrug off your coat then your shirt, letting it fall to the floor beside the remnants of the chaos. The cool air hits your skin, but his gaze, hot and intent through the mask, warms you instantly. He rises slightly on his knees, hands reaching out to trace the newly exposed skin of your stomach, palms rough and blood-streaked, leaving warm trails that make you shiver. He doesn't rush, instead, he explores with reverent touches, fingers splaying wide, as if he's afraid you'll vanish if he doesn't map you out.
âBeautiful.â he whispers, the word choked, and leans forward to press open-mouthed kisses along your navel through the mask's edge, the porcelain cool against your heated flesh.Â
His tongue darts out briefly against the interior of his mask, imagining the taste of the salt of your skin mixed with the faint iron of blood, and he groans, low and guttural, body rocking forward in supplication. Your fingers tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer, and he obeys instantly, nuzzling into your chest now, mask bumping against your breasts as his hands cup them tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they harden under his touch. The sensation shoots straight to your core, a wet ache building as you watch him submit completely so eagerly. He wants you more than you ever imagined, enough to kill apparently, to kneel and beg with every fiber of his being.
âMore.â you breathe, guiding his hand lower, and he whimpers again, fingers trembling as they dip beneath your waistband, brushing the edge of your panties.Â
The blood on his skin slicks against you, warm and slick, heightening every nerve, and you gasp at the erotic smear of it, the forbidden intimacy of sharing his violence. He pauses there, eyes pleading through the mask, and you nod, heart racing with the depth of his devotion.
âPlease, let me taste youâŚâ he begs, voice muffled, hands hovering, desperate to please.Â
His body quivers, cock straining visibly against his pants, untouched and aching, yet he doesn't touch himself, doesn't dare to, waiting for your command, utterly yours in this moment of surrender. You watch him kneel there, his masked face tilted up in utter supplication, the porcelain streaked with drying blood that mirrors the faint smears on your own skin. Your nod is all it takes, a silent command that unleashes him. His fingers hook into your waistband with a reverence that borders on worship, tugging your pants down inch by inch, exposing the damp lace of your panties clinging to your folds. He inhales sharply, the sound ragged through the mask, the scent of your arousal hitting him like a drug. Bloodied hands slide the fabric lower, palms dragging over your hips then your thighs, leaving warm, sticky trails that make your skin tingle with the illicit mix of violence and desire.Â
Your pants pool at your ankles as you step out of them, kicking them aside quickly, standing bare before him in just your panties and the vulnerability of your exposed body. Brahms doesn't hesitate now, his devotion overriding any lingering restraint. He presses his face forward, the cool edge of the mask grazing the inside of your thigh, nuzzling upward with a low, keening whine. His hands grip your ass, fingers digging in just enough to spread you open slightly, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he buries his nose against the damp crotch of your panties. One of his hands lets go of you, going to the bottom of his mask to lift it up, revealing his mouth, before going back to gripping at your flesh. You feel the heat of his breath seeping through the cotton, his tongue flicking out to lap at the fabric, tasting the wet heat of your pussy through it. The sensation is electric; rough, insistent, his muffled groans vibrating against your clit as he sucks gently, soaking the material further with his saliva mixed with your slick.
âSo goodâŚYou taste like heavenââ he murmurs, voice breaking, muffled. âYou're mine.â
His words are laced with that raw hunger as his tongue presses harder, circling your clit through the barrier, making your hips buck involuntarily. The blood on his fingers slicks against your skin as he kneads your ass, pulling you closer, his body rocking forward on his knees, grinding his hard cock against your calf for any scrap of friction. He's unraveling, breaths coming in harsh pants, but he focuses entirely on you, on pleasuring you with the single-minded intensity of someone who's starved for this contact. You thread your fingers back into the wild curls at his nape, tugging to guide him, and he obeys with a shudder, his free hand sliding up to hook a finger into your panties, pulling them aside. The cool air hits your exposed pussy, but it's quickly replaced by the press of his mask, cold porcelain against your inner thigh as he angles his head. His tongue darts out from behind the edge, flat and hot, licking a slow, broad stripe up your slit, from your entrance to your clit.Â
The taste of you floods his senses as he moans deeply, the sound vibrating straight into your core, making your walls clench around nothing. He laps at you like a man possessed, tongue delving into your folds, circling your entrance before sucking your clit between his lips, or as close as the mask allows, his mouth working feverishly against the barrier of porcelain. It's messy, intimate, the faint metallic tang of blood from his skin mixing with your sweetness on his tongue. His fingers join in, one thick digit pressing against your hole, sliding in slowly, knuckle by knuckle, coated in your arousal and the remnants of his bloodied touch. He curls it inside you, stroking that sensitive spot with deliberate pressure, while his thumb rubs slick circles over your clit. Your legs tremble, the slow build of pleasure coiling tight in your belly, heightened by the vulnerability in his every movement with the way his shoulders hunch in submission, his body yours to command. He looks up through the slits of the mask, eyes dark and pleading, as if begging for your approval even as he devours you.Â
âMore?â he whispers against your pussy, voice hoarse, tongue flicking out to catch a drip of your slick. âTell me, please, let me make you cum.â
The emotional rawness hits you then, his devotion laid bare in the tremor of his hand inside you, the way he fucks you with his finger slow and deep, suddenly adding a second to stretch you, scissoring gently while his mouth worships your clit. He's not just eating you out; he's surrendering, offering his hunger as tribute, his blood-streaked hands claiming you even as he yields completely. The manor's shadows seem to close in, the scent of iron and arousal thick, but it's his vulnerability that undoes you. The killer on his knees, reduced to this quivering need, utterly devoted to your pleasure. You grip his hair tighter, hips rolling against his face, chasing the edge he's building so reverently.Â
âYes! More, Brahms, give me more!â you gasp, voice thick with command and desire.
His response is a broken sob of gratitude, his tongue thrusting deeper, fingers pumping faster now, slick sounds filling the room as he drives you toward release, his own cock leaking pre-cum into his pants, ignored in his desperation to please. Your command unleashes something primal in him, a floodgate of desperate need that turns his worship into frenzy. Brahms's fingers plunge deeper into your pussy, the two digits stretching you wide as they thrust in rhythmic, insistent strokes, curling against that spongy wall inside you with every push. The slick squelch of your arousal mixes with the faint, coppery hint from his bloodied skin, the warmth of it seeping into your core as he scissors them apart, opening you up for more of his touch. His mouth seals over your clit, lips sucking hard now, tongue flicking in rapid, teasing laps that send jolts of fire racing up your spine.Â
The porcelain mask presses firm against your thigh, a stark contrast to the wet heat of his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your entrance around his knuckles, drinking down every drop of your wetness like it's the only sustenance he'll ever crave. Your thighs wrap around his head, muscles tensing as the coil in your belly gets tighter, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. He senses it, feels the way your walls flutter and clench around his fingers, and it spurs him on as his free hand digs harder into your ass cheek, nails scraping lightly over the smeared blood trails, pulling you flush against his face so he can bury himself deeper. A low, guttural moan rumbles from his throat, vibrating straight through your clit, pushing you closer to the brink. His cock throbs against your calf, the fabric of his pants damp with his own leaking pre-cum, yet he still doesn't seek relief for himself. Every rock of his hips against the floor is just friction born of agony.
âYes! Yes, like thatâŚâ you breathe, your voice a husky demand that makes his body shudder.Â
Your fingers twist in his curly hair, yanking his head exactly where you want it, grinding your pussy against his eager mouth. The raw vulnerability in his barely visible eyes, peering up through the mask's slits, hits you like a wave. This towering, bloodied killer reduced to a trembling mess, his entire world narrowed to the taste of you and the feel of your pleasure under his tongue. It's intoxicating, you think, as your orgasm crashes over the edge. Your release hits hard, walls spasming around his fingers as you cry out, hips bucking wildly against his face. Hot waves of ecstasy pulse through you, your slick gushing over his hand and chin, coating his lips as he laps it up greedily, tongue thrusting shallowly into your clenching hole alongside his digits.Â
He doesn't stop to your surprise, sucking your clit through the aftershocks, fingers slowing to a gentle pump that milks every last tremor from your body. Your legs nearly give out, but his grip on your ass holds you steady, his blood-streaked palms a possessive anchor in the haze of bliss. When the waves finally slow, you sag slightly, chest heaving, but Brahms pulls back just enough to gaze up at you, mask askew, mouth glistening with your cum and traces of blood. His fingers slip free from your pussy with a wet pop as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean with a low hum, eyes locked on yours in silent plea for praise.Â
âDid I... please you?â he rasps, voice thick and broken, his body still kneeling, cock straining painfully, untouched and begging for your next whim.Â
The manor's dim light casts long shadows over his form, the iron scent lingering like a reminder of the violence that brought you here, now twisted into this profound, aching devotion. You look down at him, this bloodied giant on his knees, his masked face tilted up in desperate hope, lips still shiny from your release. The vulnerability in his eyes pierces through the porcelain slits, and a rush of possessive warmth floods you. He's been perfect, utterly obedient, his every lick and thrust a testament to his surrender. The dead body of Mark lies slumped nearby, a stark reminder of the violence that led to this, blood pooling dark on the manor's worn floorboards, the iron tang heavy in the air. But right now, it's Brahms who commands your focus, his body trembling with unspent need.
âYou were such a good boy, Brahms.â you murmur in response, voice low and approving, reaching down to cup his jaw through the mask, thumb tracing the edge where porcelain meets skin.
His breath hitches at the praise, a full-body shudder rippling through him, his broad shoulders hunching as if the words alone could unravel him.Â
âYou pleased me so much... now it's my turn to take care of you.â
Your words alone make him whimper, a soft, broken sound that vibrates against your palm. You step back just enough to let him rise, yet he doesn't, he stays kneeling, waiting for your lead, cock bulging obscenely against his pants, a wet spot darkening the fabric. Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under the blood-streaked shirt, then lower, brushing over the hard line of his hairy abdomen. He gasps when you suddenly palm his erection through the cloth, the heat of him searing your hand, his hips jerking forward instinctively into your touch.
âPleaseâŚâ he breathes, voice cracking, hands fisting at his sides to keep from grabbing you.Â
But you can see how easily he's fraying from the way his thighs tense, muscles quivering under your gaze, the mask hiding most of his face but not the flush creeping up his neck. You squeeze him gently, stroking the length of his cock in his pants with your palm. He breaks with a choked sob, head falling forward as his body sags against your leg, grinding into your hand like he can't help it. It's effortless, the way he yields. One firm press of your fingers has him panting, pre-cum soaking through to slick your skin, his massive frame reduced to desperate bucks and pleas. You tug at his belt with your free hand, unbuckling it swiftly, the metallic clink echoing in the shadowed room. His pants slide down his hips under your guidance, freeing his thick cock as it springs out heavy and throbbing, veins pulsing along the shaft, the tip flushed dark and leaking steadily. Blood from his hands smears onto the base as he shifts, but he doesn't care, wet eyes locked on you through the mask, wide and pleading. You wrap your fingers around him fully now, skin on skin, and he shatters, a raw moan tearing from his throat as his knees nearly buckle, hips thrusting into your fist with uncontrolled need.Â
âOh God... yes, touch me... yoursââÂ
His voice hoarse, body arching into every stroke you give, the submission so complete it's almost pitiful how quickly he crumbles. But you're not done teasing. You guide him to stand on shaky legs, pushing him back toward the wall near Mark's lifeless form, the proximity a deliberate reminder. His back hits the cold stone, and you press against him, your bare pussy grinding along his thigh as you pump his cock harder, thumb circling the sensitive head to spread his pre-cum. He breaks further under the dual assault, whines turning to sobs, his bloodied hands hovering uncertainly before you nod permission, and they settle on your hips, gripping lightly as if afraid to hold on too tight. Every twist of your wrist draws out another tremor, his cock twitching in your grasp, balls drawing up tight as he teeters on the edge already, so responsive, so easily undone by your command.
âNot yet.â you warn against his ear, slowing your strokes to a torturous drag, and he whines in protest, body slumping against the wall, utterly pliant.Â
You sink to your knees now, mirroring his earlier position, and his breath stutters when your mouth hovers near his tip. But as quickly as you went down, you rise again, making Brahms groan in frustration while you push him down to the floor beside Mark's body, close enough that the metallic scent clings to you both until itâs the only thing you can both smell. He lands on his back with a thud, cock jutting up rigid and desperate as you straddle his hips, positioning yourself over him. The heat of his shaft presses against your bare slick folds while you lower slowly, teasing the head along your entrance. Brahms's hands clutch at your thighs, blood leaving fresh streaks over the dried ones, his eyes glazing over with raw need.Â
"Please, inside you! Need to be inside.â he begs, voice fracturing.Â
âSince youâve been a good boyâŚâ
You sink down then, taking him inch by thick inch, your pussy stretching around his girth with a burn that makes you gasp. He breaks completely as you bottom out, a guttural cry escaping him, hips bucking up weakly, body convulsing under you like he's been electrocuted by the pleasure. You start to ride him, slow at first, rolling your hips to feel every ridge and vein drag against your walls. His cock throbs deep inside you, filling you completely while he unravels with each thrust, moans spilling out from his mouth with no restraint, hands sliding up to knead your breasts as his thumbs flicker your nipples, tears streak from under the mask. The vulnerability is intoxicating; Brahms, so violent moments ago, now a quivering mess beneath you, breaking apart with every clench of your pussy around him. As you pick up pace, bouncing harder, the slap of skin on skin fills the room, your arousal coating his balls. Brahms turns his head toward Mark's body, voice ragged between gasps.Â
âShe's mine, you see? Shouldn't have tried... deserved it, you bastard.âÂ
He thrusts up to meet you, the words a possessive growl laced with delirium, his cock pulsing as he claims you aloud to the corpse.Â
âAh, fuck, Brahms!â
âAll mine... Feel her, so⌠So tight around me... you never had a chance.âÂ
Each declaration makes him thrust deeper, breaking further under the intensity, his body arching off the floor, sobs mixing with grunts as your pussy milks him relentlessly. The sight of Mark's slack face so close heightens it all; the blood, the moans and wet sounds, Brahms's fractured devotion⌠You grind down, clit rubbing against his pubic bone, chasing your own building heat while he shatters beneath you, cock swelling as his orgasm nears.Â
âMine⌠She's everything.â he rasps to the body as a loud moan escapes his lips.
His fingers dig deeper into your ass to pull you harder onto him, his massive form trembling violently now, on the verge of spilling inside you from the sheer overwhelm of your touch. You lean forward, pressing your palms to his blood-smeared chest for leverage, nails digging into the fabric as you slam down harder and harder onto his cock. The stretch burns deliciously with every descent, your walls clenching around his thick length, squeezing him in rhythmic pulses that make his entire body jerk. Brahms's hips snap up to meet you, driving impossibly deeper, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him echoing off the manor walls, mingling with the drip of blood from Mark's corpse nearby. His bloodied fingers bruise your hips, pulling you flush against him, but it's your control that keeps him pinned, his massive frame bucking helplessly under your weight.
âFuck... I'm a good boy?â
âYes, ah, you're such a good boy Brahms!â
He groans in response, voice splintering into a whine as you grind your clit against his base, sparks of pleasure shooting through you. But his eyes, those wild, desperate slits in the mask, flick to Mark's lifeless form again, the obsession fueling his thrusts.Â
âLook at her on me... taking my cock so deep. You thought you could have this? Pathetic... deserved what you got.âÂ
The words come out in ragged bursts, timed with his upward plunges, his shaft swelling thicker inside you, veins dragging against your sensitive spots. He breaks more with each taunt, body convulsing, sweat mixing with the drying blood on his skin, making him slick and feverish beneath you. You quicken your pace, bouncing with forceful drops that slap your ass against his thighs, his balls tightening as they slap up against you. The friction builds a coil in your core, but it's his unraveling that pushes you higher, how he fractures so completely, sobs choking out between possessive snarls.Â
âShe's clenching around me⌠You never touched her like this. Dead and gone because you tried!â
His cock throbs violently, the head nudging your cervix with every brutal thrust, pre-cum leaking to ease the glide, but he's teetering, breaths coming in shattered gasps, muscles locking as you ride him mercilessly. One hand slides up to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, trembling fingers tracing your pulse as if anchoring himself to you. You capture his wrist, guiding it to your breast instead, and he kneads roughly, pinching your nipple until you moan, the sound ripping another cry from him.Â
âPlease, gonna cum... inside you... mark you as mine.â he begs, head thrashing against the floorboards, the mask's porcelain cracking faintly under the strain of his expressions.
He turns his face toward the corpse the moment you nod yes in answer to him, lips curling in a feral snarl.Â
âSee this? Fuck, she feels so good!â
You feel him fracture fully then, his cock pulsing erratically, hips stuttering as you clench down hard, twisting your hips to grind him deeper.Â
âCum for me, Brahms.â you command, voice husky with your own rising peak, and that's all it takes.Â
Brahms arches off the floor with a guttural roar, body seizing as ropes of hot cum erupt from his tip, flooding your pussy in thick spurts. He pumps into you erratically, each jet accompanied by a broken sob, his hands clamping onto your ass to hold you seated while he empties himself, over and over, the excess leaking out around his base to drip onto his balls. Through it all, he doesn't stop the litany, voice hoarse and delirious as waves crash over him.Â
âMine... you could've never... deserved to bleed out.â
His thrusts weaken to shallow jerks, milking every drop into you, body quaking with aftershocks, tears streaming from the mask's edges. You ride out his orgasm, chasing your own, your clit grinding against him until the pressure snaps, your walls fluttering around his spent cock, a fresh gush of your arousal mixing with his cum and the faint blood traces. Finally, you still, collapsing onto his chest, both of you panting in the heavy air, the scent of sex and iron thick around you. Brahms's arms wrap around you weakly, holding you close as if you'll vanish, his cock softening inside but not slipping out, keeping you joined. He nuzzles his masked face into your hair, murmuring brokenly.Â
âDid I please you?âÂ
The vulnerability lingers, his body limp and sated, utterly broken and remade by your touch, while Mark's body cools silently beside you, a forgotten shadow in the dim light.
your co-workers are hot, oblivious virgin nerds. why not pop two cherries with one pussy?
reader-insert (no y/n,) mean reader, dominant reader, degrading, overstimulation, threesome, face sitting, virgin adrian, virgin stephen, office setting, oral (fm receiving,) cum eating, throat fucking, pnp.
18+ only â minors dni
you sink to your knees in front of them, fingers already working open adrian's belt while stephen watches with wide eyes. adrian's hands hover near your shoulders, shaking a little. "w-wait, are you really gonnaâŚ" his words cut off when you tug his pants down and wrap your fingers around his cock. he gasps, hips jerking forward.
you lean in and lick a slow stripe up the underside, then take the head into your mouth. adrian moans, one hand finally landing in your hair. "oh god⌠that feelsâŚ" you suck him deeper, tongue pressing flat against him, and he stutters harder. "s-so good, thank youâŚ"
stephen shifts beside him, breathing fast. you pull off adrian with a wet sound and turn to stephen, freeing his cock next. he whimpers when your lips close around him. "i⌠i can't believe you'reâŚ" you bob your head, sucking steadily while your hand keeps stroking adrian. both of them watch, faces flushed, glasses fogging at the edges.
you switch back to adrian, taking him deeper this time until your nose brushes his stomach. he whines, thighs trembling. "please⌠i don't know how longâŚ" you hum around him and he nearly folds. then you slide over to stephen again, sucking him with the same rhythm until his knees buckle. "fuck⌠you're so⌠so warmâŚ"
you keep trading between them, sucking one while your hand works the other, never letting either rest. adrian's voice cracks every time you return to him. "i'm⌠i'm getting close alreadyâŚ" stephen's hips twitch when you swallow around him, eyes glassy as he watches you move to adrian and take him to the back of your throat again.
neither of them lasts long under the constant attention. adrian comes first with a broken moan, spilling down your throat while you keep sucking through it. you barely give him a second before shifting to stephen, sucking him harder, tongue flicking until he follows with a shaky cry, pulsing between your lips.
but you don't stop. you go back to adrian, licking over his oversensitive cock while he gasps and tries to pull away. "too much⌠too muchâŚ" his voice shakes but he doesn't move far. stephen watches, still twitching from his own orgasm, as you take adrian back into your mouth and suck gently until he's whimpering again. then you turn to stephen, sucking him through the overstimulation until his legs shake and he grabs the desk for balance.
you keep switching, mouth moving from one cock to the other, sucking them past the point where they can think straight. both of them are panting, voices breaking with every pass of your tongue, bodies jerking under the relentless pleasure. adrian's hand stays in your hair, not pushing, just holding on. stephen's free hand reaches down to touch your shoulder, fingers flexing every time you pull another helpless sound from him.
you take them both to the edge again and again, never rushing, never stopping, until they're both trembling and overstimulated, voices hoarse from whimpering your name.
you pull off their cocks with a wet pop, strings of spit still connecting your lips to their twitching lengths. both of them are flushed and shaking, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and look up at them with a smirk.
"look at you two," you say, voice low and mocking. "pathetic little virgins who can't even last five minutes in a woman's mouth. following me around the office like dogs, staring at my skirts every time i bend over. you think i didn't notice? you think i didn't see you both adjusting your pants like the desperate sluts you are?"
adrian's face burns redder. stephen's glasses slip down his nose as he swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes.
"you've been drooling over me for months," you continue, standing up and pushing adrian back until he drops into the desk chair. "every time i walk by, you two just stand there with your mouths open, cocks probably leaking in your pants. fucking animals."
you hike your skirt up and straddle adrian's lap, reaching down to line his still-hard cock up with your entrance. he gasps when you sink down onto him in one smooth motion, his hands flying to your hips. "oh fuckâiâi'm insideâ"
"shut up," you snap, rolling your hips. "you don't get to talk. just sit there and take it like the virgin you are."
stephen watches with wide eyes as you start riding adrian, your pussy gripping him tight. you reach out and grab stephen by the hair, yanking him closer. "get over here."
he obeys instantly, cock bobbing as you pull him forward and take him between your lips again. you suck him hard while bouncing on adrian's lap, the wet sounds of your mouth and your cunt filling the empty office. adrian's fingers dig into your waist, his breathing ragged. "i can'tâit's too goodâi'm gonnaâ"
he cums with a broken cry, hips jerking up as he spills inside you. you don't stop moving, milking him through it until he's whimpering and trying to squirm away. "already?" you laugh, lifting off his spent cock. "fucking useless."
you push stephen down onto the floor and straddle his face instead, lowering your dripping pussy onto his mouth while you lean forward and take adrian's softening cock between your lips. both of them moan at the same timeâstephen's tongue pushing into you, tasting adrian's cum, while adrian whines from the overstimulation of your mouth working his sensitive length.
"clean me up," you tell stephen, grinding down on his face. "and youâ" you look at adrian, "get hard again. i'm not done with either of you."
adrian's cock twitches in your mouth despite his protests. stephen's hands grip your thighs as he licks deeper, desperate and sloppy. you keep switching between themâriding stephen's cock until he cums inside you with a sob, then forcing adrian back into your pussy while you make stephen fuck your throat. they both cry and whine, overstimulated and shaking, but neither of them stops. they keep thrusting, keep kissing whatever part of you they can reach, tongues and lips desperate against your skin as they fuck themselves stupid on your body.
A 20 year old Mr. Lawrence and his girlfriend get ready for a concert.
This is a little self-indulgent, but I hope you enjoy reading!
Warnings: none, except for a heavy makeout session! This is fluffy and domestic, honestly.
-----
âKeep still!â You laughed, trying to keep your hand steady as you drew over Dougâs eyelids with your eyeliner.Â
âHey, I'm trying!â He defended himself, also laughing, âHow do you put this crap on everyday?â his eyes fluttered under his eyelids, as he tried not to open them.
âHey, it's not crap.â You said as you pushed the eye pencil against his skin, though it basically wasn't doing anything. You took it away, tsking as you drew on your hand to see if it would work any better. Doug opened his eyes now, watching as you tried to produce some kind of mark,
âNot crap, huh?â He smirked, leaning on his hands as he rested on your bed,
âShut up.â You smiled before putting your hand back on his face, âThere, it should work now.â You said as you angled the pencil against his eye. He closed them quickly as you pressed down, successfully leaving a trail of black now. You hummed to yourself, sticking your tongue out a bit as you worked, moving the pencil into the corner of his eye and then under. You did the same to his other eye before stepping back, âPerfect. Now I just have to smudge it a bitâŚâ You said, coming back to his face and rubbing your thumb against his eyelid,
âOw, some warning would be nice.â he lamented, scrunching them a bit,
âRelax, babe.â You reminded him and he did. âAnnnnd⌠There!â You finished and grinned as he opened his eyes,
âDo I look like Robert Smith yet?â He asked, looking at you fondly.
âAlmost.â You sat down beside him on the bed, which made it squeak a bit as you went to rifle through your makeup bag, âYou have the powder and the eyesâŚâ You looked up at him momentarily before going back to your task.
âHey, that sounds sexy enough. I feel like I'm embodying the dead body look.â He chuckled.
âVincent Price would be proud.â You assured him before pulling out the lipstick you were looking for, âAha! Here it is.â You uncapped the lid and twisted the lipstick up for effect.Â
âWoah, woah, ok you're not putting me in lipstick.â He raised his hands in protest, pushing them toward you,
âAww come on, you'll look exactly like Robert Smith.â You tried,
âNo way. I don't need to look that much like him. I'm drawing the line. It's here.â He drew a fake line down the bed between the two of you with his hand.
You sighed, feigning disappointment,
âOh, oh well⌠I'll just have to put it on myself.â You said, grabbing your hand mirror which rested on your pillow. You carefully painted your lips while Doug watched, moving to cross his legs on your bed, âWhat do you think?â You asked, looking at him when you were done. You'd been wearing lipstick earlier, but Doug did a pretty good job at wiping it off. He was silent for a moment before the corners of his lips raised and his eyebrows quirked,
âYouâve changed my mind. Maybe I would actually like to see myself in that colour. If you wouldn't mind? It's very flattering on you, afterall.â He leaned forward and you rolled your eyes playfully,Â
âOh alright, if you insist.â You moved forward, your lips meeting gently. Your hand moved to rest against his cheek as the other placed the lipstick down and away from you. He moved closer, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pulled you nearer to him. You sighed into his lips, giggling a little as your hand trailed from his cheek and into his hair as you grasped it, making his breath hitch. Your clothes were growing constrictive now as you felt your skin grow hotter. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and you hummed, placing your other hand on his shoulder. You pushed against him, trying to deepen the kiss as his hand trailed up your side, then down again as his fingers played with the side of your shirt. After a while of heavy kissing and panting breaths, you broke away, smiling like a fool.
âThat was lovely.â You looked him in the eyes and kissed him again before pulling away. He panted for breath, trying to catch it as he leaned back,
âYeahâŚâ He agreed, swallowing before taking another deep breath. Marks of your lipstick were all over his face and his neck which was impressive, though you cursed yourself; you were probably going to have to redo the makeup on the lower half of his face. He adjusted his shirt, sitting up so he could tuck it back into his pants. Meanwhile, you grabbed the powder and quickly redid his face before placing the tools back on your pillow and relaxing again.
âI can't believe we're going to see The Cure tonight.â You laid back on the bed, staring at the Siouxsie poster on your ceiling, âLike, we're literally seeing THE Robert Smith.âÂ
âI know.â He said, his hand resting on his face as he looked down at you. You grinned and giggled sitting up,
âAnd we're gonna look so fucking cool!â You exclaimed, grabbing his hand,
âWell, you always look cool.â He motioned at you and you blushed under the baby powder on your face. You did kind of always look like this, but some part of dressing like this in a crowd of people who were dressed similarly was exhilarating.Â
âGod, I should do your hair, shouldn't I?â You asked. He checked his swatch and looked back at you,
âProbably, if we want to get to the concert on time, with traffic and all.â
You raced around your room and grabbed your mousse, Aquanet, and comb before coming back to him.Â
âOk, get ready, you're about to look so rad.â You laughed at yourself as you squirted the mousse into your hands before rubbing it together and working it through his hair. He looked up at your arms, then at you. You'd done your hair and everything before he came over, so you weren't too worried about yourself; all of your thoughts circled around getting his look together before you had to go. After the mousse you quickly grabbed the comb and began to tease his hair. He hissed a little, thanks to his hair being short and closer to the roots,
âSorry!â You exclaimed, using the comb a bit more gently now as you backcombed.Â
âIt's ok honey, I just wasn't expecting it. You really do this everyday?â He asked, sounding a little concerned and amazed,
âWhat can I say, I'm a masochist.â You joked and kissed his cheek, âNo, but it can be a pain, honestly. You gotta take real good care of it,â You remarked as you worked his hair, âand I'm in the shower as soon as possible, washing all the product out. And then brushing out my hair, and then picking out my hair from the drain.â
âOh wow.â he said back,
âYeah.â You heard him hiss again and moved to another section of his hair. âBut it's worth it. I like dressing up way too much to stop now.â He smiled,
âWell, you definitely shouldn't stop. Not if it makes you happy.â Passion grew in his voice, âYou always look happy, so I know it's good for you.âÂ
âThanks, I think so too.â You put down the comb and grabbed the hair spray, shaking it violently before letting it loose on his hair. He shut his eyes, holding his breath as you assaulted his head. You worked as quickly as you could, not wanting him to turn blue and practically tossed the can down when you were done, waving your hands wildly to make sure the hair spray dissipated.
He blinked, shaking his head a little,
âJesus, it feels like I'm wearing a helmet.â He shook his head again, feeling how his hair moved around.
âGood, that's how it's supposed to feel.â You said, standing up to go back to your standing mirror. You put your lipstick back on carefully, glancing back at Doug in the mirror who glanced back at you with a smile as he adjusted some of the leather bracelets you gave him.Â
âYou think we'll survive in this heat?â he asked, also standing now, coming up to admire himself in your mirror alongside you,
âProbably, I hope.â You joked, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around you.
âWhen I go to LA, everywhere will have A/C, and I'll never melt again.â
âWhat, is the A/C in New Jersey not good enough for you?â You laughed,
âNot everywhere has A/C.â He shrugged,
âOh sorry, I forgot Mr. Lawrence needs the highest quality of air conditioning, or else he'll wilt like a flower.â you poked
âHey now.â He frowned
âSorry, sorry, I love you.â You smiled.
âI love you too.â He bonked his head against yours gently.Â
You stood there for a moment, looking at yourselves in the mirror,Â
âI'm ready to go when you are.â You said and he nodded, pulling away from you,
âI'll grab our bags.â He kissed your cheek and walked to the door, where your purse and his backpack sat and slung them on his shoulders,
âWe're actually seeing The Cure, can you believe that?â You repeated,
âNot really.â He smiled, laughing a bit before opening your bedroom door, where your cat slinked into the room around his legs and hopped on the bed, âWe're coming back to yours after, right?â He asked, double checking,
âYeah, if you're still down?âÂ
âOf course.â He stepped into the hall, with you following behind. He slipped his hand into his pocket, grabbing his keys, which jingled, âNow, let's go see Robert Smith.â
notes: the only warning i can really offer is that isaac is deranged and i have no idea what tag to use other than heart kink/play lmfaoo. also i know this fandom is slowly dying bcs season 2 is over but please comment + reblog anyway đđ˝ nervous about this fic because i only just finished s2
preview: "You can touch it," he offers, and there's a shrewd glint in his eyes that evinces that he can tell that you already want to.
The contraption emits its metronomic proclamation: tick, tick, tick; each mechanical hiccup slicing through the oppressive nocturnal silence like a blade announcing the presence of something that should not exist yet stubbornly insists upon it. Isaac Night's engineered precision, the clockwork heart he crafted to extend his own failing lifespan sits exposed beneath his crumpled dress shirt. Against your better judgement, your traitorous appendage reaches out and pulls one side of the shirt aside to reveal the open chest cavity like some antiquated music box.
You can't tell if your mind is playing tricks on you when you hear the device pulse a little faster, as though Isaac's mechanical heart has developed the inconvenient habit of responding to your rapacious gaze.
When you look up at his face, he's keenly scrutinizing you with the clinical interest of a scientist observing a particularly fascinating specimen's reaction to his life's work made flesh, waiting to catalogue exactly how you process the sight of his heart. Then, when he feels sufficiently assured of your fascination rather than revulsion, his hand reaches into his chest with the casual intimacy of someone adjusting a pocket watch, carefully opening the metal latticework structured around each meticulously placed component like a jeweler displaying his finest work.
"You can touch it," he offers, and there's a shrewd glint in his eyes that evinces that he can tell that you already want to.
It's the only thing you need to hear. No need for any more sanctions, no further elaborate negotiations with propriety or the tedious social choreography that typically governs these moments. When you trail your finger over a thin gear, that delicate metallic component no thicker than a wafer yet infinitely more essential to Isaac's continued existence, it's with the temerity of someone who has been contemplating exactly this touch since the moment his shirt fell open. The gear yields beneath your fingertip with the surprising warmth of metal that has been conducting the heat of manufactured life, each microscopic tooth designed with the kind of precision that makes watchmakers weep. Your pulse pounds against your temples.
Isaacâs mouth parts at the touch and his breath hitches. Your pupils eclipse the rest of your eyes. He looks from one to the other, then lets his gaze fall to your lips.
âFuck,â you breathe and you feel him stir to life beneath you, âhow long were you waiting for this?â
His tongue darts out to wet the corner of his mouth and all he can provide is an open-mouthed smirk. He presses himself forward into your ministrations, that had started off so tentative and full of painstaking deliberation. Your fingers, which had moved with such assured precision moments before, suddenly slip. You jostle one of the cogs when your fingers disrupt it and your eyes widen in a brief panic but Isaacâs lashes give an avian-flutter and the grin that spreads across his face contains multitudes. Half blissful contentment, as if some long-jammed piece has finally clicked into place, and half pure hubris, the satisfaction of someone who has just proven that he is, in fact, more resilient than he originally thought.
The heat in your lower body intensifies and your pretty lips curl into a sneer. âYou couldnât just ask?â
His eyes gleam with lust-addled mirth, knowing fully well that you would have him beg before you allow him to come. "Now⌠whereâs the fun in that?"
You roll your eyes and then shift back only to feel his hardness against you. âGod, youâre such a freak.â
He appears unfazed by the remark. âYouâre dripping, making a mess all over me so what does that make you?â
You narrow your eyes and then with a calculating intent that rivals his own and then you add another finger to his heart, and the effect is immediate: one of the mechanisms halts completely â not with the gradual winding-down of something running out of power, but with the firm stop of something deliberately interrupted. Isaacâs eyes roll to the back of his head, he messily grinds against your cunt before his movements culminate with a violent stutter and jerk of his hips, grunting while his hot, thick cum spurts out, dripping down your thighs and pussy.
Your disposition sours, mood curdling. âAlready?â you bite out. âJesus, youâre useless. Whatever, Iâm gonna come on your dick either way. Itâs only fair I make a mess out of you, too.â
Your other hand slips lower, greedy and deliberate. The one already braced around the rim of his open chest stays hooked there, fingers brushing dangerously close to the humming latticework. But your free hand is all ravenous hunger, sliding down between your thighs, you circle your clit, letting him watch as slick gathers across your hand.
The sight alone makes his cock twitch against you, a helpless spasm that betrays just how wrung-out he is.
âDidnât even have to fuck you yet and youâve already given up.â You roll your thumb harder against your clit, the moan that spills from your throat a cruel exhibition of pleasure made only to remind him what he isnât giving you.
The combination of your words and your touch rouses him. A patchworked hand shoots out, gripping your wrist. His chest still heaves, his body still shakes, but thereâs a spark of defiance in his hold. âDidnât you know?â he starts, voice raw but imbued with pride. âThe refractory period is a little⌠different when it comes to me.â
He shifts under you, angling his hips until the flared head of his cock presses insistently at your soaked entrance. You can feel the way he trembles with the effort. The moan that rips out of him as he pushes against you cracks into a strangled choke, his bravado immediately undercut by the sheer intensity of how your body greets him with an ease he had premeditated, but no amount of preparation would have helped against your hot, wet pulsating cunt.
Isaacâs face is covered with a veneer of sweat, chin tilted up and a frown marring his cadaver-like features, his nails bite into the soft, gentle swell of your hips before they lift you up. Thereâs a brief flicker of perspiration, of arousal, of need. Thereâs something intoxicating about watching his body betray the controlled precision of his mind. His Adamâs apple bobs, as he recalls the words back to him like a severed limb. âWhich means,â he rasps, the words fractured by strain, âthat I can fill you up as much as you want, my insatiable girl.â His voice vibrates against your skin like the low hum of the machinery inside him, each syllable a tremor that makes your chest ache. The promise is the only warning you get before his body jolts to life beneath you. His hips rise, hard and sudden, and the impact drives him impossibly deep, setting the gears in his chest to a violent staccato.
Tickticktick â too fast, too uneven, as though the device canât decide whether to keep time with his body or with yours.
He doesnât release your hand. His grip is fever-hot, his knuckles bone-white with the force of holding on. The other anchors you by the hip, nails biting crescents into your flesh as if he needs proof that youâre real, that youâre not some hallucination conjured by fever and obsession. Each upward thrust rattles through his frame: the clockwork inside him quivers, plates shifting against one another with a whisper of metal on metal, and you realize that every ravening movement risks unraveling the very mechanism that keeps him alive. The knowledge should alarm you. Instead it twists through your gut, sharp and intoxicating, until your breath catches on a half-strangled moan.
âIsaac!â Your hands scrabble at his chest, your throat feels ragged from gasping and crying out his litany of a name.
Only briefly does he still. Itâs not the languid pause of a man in control but the jagged, involuntary falter of something fraying at the edges. His hips hang suspended, trembling with the effort of restraint, staving off his orgasm, and in that frozen instant you notice everything else: the way his thighs quiver under you, muscles jerking like misfiring wires; the sheen of sweat streaking down his chest to mingle with the faint shimmer of oil at the edge of his open cavity; the twitch in his jaw as though heâs biting down on a cry he refuses to give voice to.
He turns his head aside, as if looking at you directly would unmake him completely. His Adamâs apple bobbing with the violence of each swallowed breath, cords straining like stretched-out wires at the effort of denial. The machine inside him answers with its own faltering music, off-kilter and desperate.
Your hand is still caught in his, and suddenly you feel every tremor of his disseminated into you.
The realization sends a sharp pulse down your spine. Your clit throbs with a feverish thought that grips you: he could come undone just by looking at you.
Your lips unfurl into an amused smile.
Slowly, deliberately, you allow one hand to trail down the slope of your stomach, every inch a performance meant as much for him as for yourself. Your fingers slip lower, brushing against the swollen lips of your cunt, and the wet heat there is undeniable. You part your folds, fingers glistening obscenely with the mingled fluids of both of your bodies. âIsaac, open your mouth.â
Itâs instant the way he hearkens to your command, heâs too fucked-out to even realize whatâs happening, tongue out in an obscene exhibition. You bring your fingers to his mouth and he closes his mouth around them, eyes sliding shut.
âThere you go,â you croon, âoh, thatâs good.â
The sound that reverberates from him is a strangled moan, vibrating against your fingers, buzzing through your bones until it hits your clit like a live wire. You clench around him hard, and his whole body jerks beneath you.
Then he comes apart. His mouth falls open around your fingers, drool spilling from the corner, slicking your hand along with everything else. His hips snap upward wildly, no rhythm, no precision left, just raw need driving him into you over and over. His breath stutters against your palm, hot and broken, and then heâs spilling inside you again: sudden, violent, a rush of heat that has you gasping and grinding down to take every drop.
Itâs messy. His cum leaks out around him almost as soon as he gives it to you, dripping down his cock, down your thighs, smeared into the sweat already covering both of you.
Your breathy exhale is one of relief and you allow him a brief moment of reprieve, angling your face to brush your lips against his. He parts his lips with a shaky tremble and you lick into his open mouth before your saliva-slick fingers brush against the sphere lodged in the center of his inorganic organ. Itâs hot now, fevered with exertion, damp with a gloss of condensation. Itâs ruinous, the effect in which Isaacâs whole body jerks like heâs been electrocuted, his mouth tears open beneath yours and he lets out an unrestrained whimper. He keens into your body which in turn causes your cunt to clench around him and he wails when he realizes heâs unbearably sensitive.
He thrashes against the overstimulation, hips bucking weakly into you even as every muscle in him trembles with exhaustion. His hand quakes in yours, clutching desperately, while the other claws at your waist as though he could anchor himself against the onslaught. The sound keeps coming, fractured and desperate, each note spilling out of him without his permission.
You hold him through it, breath hitching at the sheer sensitivity vibrating through his body, through the machine that flutters erratically under your touch.
The noise that emanates from him has your core aching, dripping with want and his spend. âShh,â you whisper against the corner of his mouth, âas much as I want, remember?â
sooo iâve been going a bit soobin crazy lately since heâs basically confirmed heâs a masochist (loves getting hit wracked drug around etc) !!
so like imagine being mad at him and ur having an argument and well it turns into the roughest makeout sesh ever and then leads to rough sex and it literally just breaks him into subspace !! and in his mind heâs like whoa this is so hot this canât be real but outside heâs just a whining brainless mess cus heâs never been sent into subspace
soobin doesn't exactly remember how he got here, but he didn't have room for complaints. glossy-eyed and mouth slick with saliva as he repeated those three words. the last thing he could remember was coming home from work a little later than he expected. he shucked off his shoes and shrugged off his coat, placing it on the rack. he peered into the living room and didn't find you there, so he assumed you were in the room.
he walks to the bedroom, opening the cracked door and finds you laying in bed. he thought you looked comfy in your pajamas, knees drawn to your chest as you read a book with your brows cutely furrowed in concentration.
"hey," he calls out, plopping down on the edge of the bed with a grunt. you smile widely, and put your book down to come up behind him. you snake your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug, putting your head into his neck.
you kiss him there gently and whisper, "how was work?" against his skin. he shivers when you breath tickles his neck. a sigh comes out as his eyes flutter a little because of your hands that start to roam his body, running them along his sides slowly.
"it-it was fine," he breathes out. he licks his lips with a swallow before continuing on about his day. "i had to train a new coworker today." his spine bows as you slide your hands under his shirt and graze his warm skin, brushing past a pert nipple. soobin can't hold back the moan that bubbles up and slips past his lips, eyes falling completely shut.
you hum as you nip up his neck and make tingles go down his spine. "and how was that?" soobin choked on his words, finding it hard to respond with you touching all over him. he could feel his cock jump in his work pants and goosebumps spread through him when you lick the vein on his neck.
"good, she caught on pretty well to the rules and what not." he managed to get out and you pause, pulling your hands and mouth away from him. soobin pried his eyes open and twisted his body in your direction, you were sat back on your legs with a tiny frown on your face.
"she?" you ask, looking down at the bed-sheets.
soobin cocked his head to the side and knitted his brows together before hesitantly replying, "yeah⌠she."
you could feel your eyes narrowing and your lips press into a thin line as soobin confirms that you didn't mishear what he said. your fist clench in your lap, your nails digging into the palm of your hand.
"she was actually a real help today." he continues as if to mock you and he eyes your reactions. he flits them between your fists and your jaw that was tightly clenched. "is there something wrong with that?"
you took a deep breath, containing yourself before lifting your head up to look at him. your met with soobin's oblivious face, his eyes wide and innocent compared to his words. his lips were in a small pout as he searched your face for answers. you could tell he had no clue what you were upset about and that only frustrated you further.
"no, nothing's wrong with that." you sigh, turning your head to the side. this was always the case with soobin, he was too kind for his on good. yet you felt silly for being so insecure, you were sure that it was nothing else besides a coworker training a new-comer. but you just couldn't shake that feeling offâŚ
"well, it's obviously something. you're practically seethingâŚ" he fully turns to face you, sitting in front of you on the bed. he angles his face into your view and you shut your eyes, blocking him from your sight. soobin pouts deeper, reaching a hand out and shaking your shoulder. "are you actually not going to tell me what's wrong?"
when he's met with silence he starts again, "did i do something wrong?" he watches as you puff your cheeks and continue to ignore him. he wracks his brain through the short conversation now that his brain was clearer and hopes to find where it went wrong.
he smirks when he makes an observation, gently shoving your shoulder. "hey, are you jealous?" he asks and laughs when you crack your eyes open to glare at him. his smile that greets you only makes you angrier, how could he be so happy when you were visibly upset.
"i'm not jealousâŚ" you mumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest. soobin laughs harder, his eyes crinkling and his dimples making an appearance. did he show her that part of him too while he trained her?
"come on, there's no reason for you to be jealous. she's just a coworker." he tries to reassure between his chuckles, resting a hand on your thigh and squeezing it. you smack his hand away and hop off the bed, soobin's eyes and body follow as you move.
"is this a joke to you?" your serious tone make soobin sober up, his laughter dying down, but his smile remains as he reads your emotions.
"w-well no, i just don't understand the problem." he admits.
"of course you don't, you never do." you huff with an eye roll, starting to pace back and forth in front of the bed.
he scoffs at that and his voice raises just a tad, "then explain it to me." he breathing starts to pick up as the anger gets to him. he hated when you would get so cryptic when it came to these things and it drives him nuts.
you whirl around and walk up to where he sat, standing in between his legs. soobin ignores the way that his breath hitches when he has tilt his head back to look up at you.
"you still wouldn't get it, i've it explained multiple times. you never get it!" you exasperate, your hand landing on his shoulder and gripping onto it tightly to contain yourself.
soobin feels the skin under your hand prickle and the feeling spreads through his body and down to his cock. he doesn't understand why and his face burns a little in embarrassment, ashamed that he was getting turned on while arguing. to distract himself he does the only thing he could think of-
"then make me get it!!" he spits out louder than he intended, his anger pushing through the strange arousal he just felt. his eyes were wide when he realized his mistake, he really didn't mean to shout, but by then it was too late. he didn't have a chance to get out his apologies.
your hand flew into his hair, sliding into the strands before tugging. you pull his head back, so his neck is craning up at you. soobin moaned loudly, he wasn't even aware he could moan in such a way. it was high-pitched and almost whiny, his lips parting and eyes flitting.
your eyes lock for a moment, your breaths tangling together as you both pant in anger. his eyes drop to your mouth once, breaking the tension. you smash your mouth against his into a heavy kiss. it wasn't like the usual kisses that you shared, it had more emotion behind it and soobin could feel himself melt into it, his body going lax as you take control of it. you waste no time prying his mouth open, slipping your tongue into his mouth and exploring every corner.
shocks are sent to his cock that was semi-hard as you don't let him lean back for air. you only tug him closer by his hair, and earn a sweet whine that flows into your mouth. you climb into his lap, his hands wrapping around your waist as your other hand gently wraps around his throat.
soobin gasps when you squeeze just a tad, leaning back to look at him. his disheveled blonde hair, face flushed, eyes glossy as he looked at you, mouth parted and searching for yours again. you've never seen him look so submissive, almost patheticâŚsure he's usually like this and likes when you take control but this was different.
"i think you enjoy making me jealous," you accuse him, and he dumbly shakes his head. his fingers grip your shirt tightly as he blinks up at you slowly. he looked like was waiting for something. "do you like making me jealous?"
soobin moans while shaking his head again a little faster, his hips raising up against you. his eyes trail to your lips and he leans in, whining you as pull away when they almost touch. he couldn't contain his heart that was racing and his cock that was throbbing in his pants.
"why must you be so nice to everybody?" you mumble to yourself before pressing your lips to his again, you didn't even know soobin was listening. your hips start to drag against his as you sloppily kiss and swap saliva.
"i'm yours," he whispers when you pull back.
you slide your hand down from his neck and to his chest, pushing him down against the bed with a choked moan in surprise. he can't explain the reason that made his dick jump and doesn't have time to think on it as you unzip his pants a reach a hand into his boxers.
there's precum covering the tip as you pull his dick from his work pants. you were shocked at how much there was as you circled his tip with your thumb before spreading it down his length. you take him into your hand, squeezing tightly and start to jerk him at a quick pace that soobin can't keep up with.
your other hand slides up his shirt, his body writhing under you as you run your fingertips up until you reach his chest. you pinch a nipple between your fingers, something soobin has always been a fan of. soobin arches off the bed and into the touch with a high-pitched moan as you pinch harder, his hands fisting the sheets under him.
soobin felt dizzy, lightheaded almost. the slight pain from your hand on his chest and the pleasure coming from his dick were fighting for control and he didn't know which to lean into. it was both too much and not enough at the same time.
deep down there was a part of him that liked when you were a little rough with him. sometimes he would say the things he knew would push you just right and make you put your hands on him and he would revel in it. he would turn it into a personal game that he would play. he didn't know that it ran this deep though, that he could get this much pleasure from it.
"so pretty," you murmured, abandoning his chest and squeezing his cheeks and making you look at him with his eyes that were half-lidded. you push your thumb against his plump lips and soobin moaned against it, his tongue poking out to lick it.
"please," he croaked, voice muffled behind your finger as he pushed his chest out.
your card your fingers through his hair gently, massaging his scalp before gripping it and tugging his head back. soobin whines, his cock twitching in your hand and his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
"please what?"
he needily whimpers, his face burning as he replies. "please touch my chest again."
you oblige with a hum, letting go of his hair and paying attention to his chest. softly dragging your fingers over it and then suddenly pinching them. soobin could feel his entire body quiver and the familiar bubbling in his stomach, too quick for him to stop it.
"ngh," soobin moans, his orgasm crashing into him without warning. warm cum spurts from his cock and hits his chest as he thrusts up into your hand.
before he has a chance to relax, you start to relentlessly stroke him. he shouts as your hands send him into overstimulation and you relish in the feeling of making him squirm beneath you. his weak and shaky hands fly to yours and try to, not really, pry them off his cock.
he can't get any words out, the only sounds coming out were choked moans and whimpers as you don't stop moving your hand up and down. it hurts, but it hurts so good, it's the only reason he hasn't outright told you stop. he enjoys it. it's everything he's wanted and he didn't even know it until now.
he's so gone that he didn't notice when you stopped touching him and started to strip out of your pajamas. you climbed back into his lap and hovered over his cock. he looks down and watches you tease the tip, sliding it between your folds. his hips involuntarily pushing up, wanting to be inside you couldn't find the words to express that to you.
"keep still," you command him as you hold his hips down. he whines but nods his head doesn't attempt to move again, he didn't want this to end. he would listen to every word you said if it meant he could keep feeling this floatiness he was experiencing.
he loudly gasps when you slide down onto him in one quick motion, all the way to the hilt. his eyes roll back and he bites down on his lip hard.
you tsk, "you're gonna hurt yourself doing that." pressing your thumb on his bottom lip and prying his mouth open. you stick your finger into his mouth and soobin leaps into action before you say anything, sucking and moaning around it.
he stares at you as he does, hoping his eyes convey what he wants to say. he fucking loves this, how rough your being with him, treating him like a toy. he wanted to tell you but his brain was foggy and his mouth isn't working the way he wants, he just wants to keep feeling good.
"you know, you're so fucking hot like thisâŚ" you purr, removing your finger from soobin's mouth, much to his distaste. you caress his flushed face and pat his cheek, rubbing under his eye. he moans when you do, and you pause.
"oh?" you do it again, with a little more force and soobin keens. a broken whimper comes out and his cock twitches inside of you. you laugh and soobin whines in embarrassment, his hands coming up to cover his face.
you grab him by the wrist, and pin them above his head. soobin's eyelids go heavy as you grip onto his skin, somewhere in the back of his mind he hopes it leaves a mark so he can remember this.
"be a good boy and don't move them, hm?" he nods, watching your movements as you lean back, dragging your hands down his body. you make sure to press a nipple on the way, soobin arching into the touch with a hiss. you rest your hands on his stomach before you start to bounce on his cock.
soobin's eyes go cross-eyed as you relentlessly use him, swiveling your hips without mercy. he lets out continuous gasps and moans but his hands never stray from their position. he just holds them clenched tight, fingernails digging into his palms. he's a complete puddle under you, his brain is sludge as he revels in the pleasure.
"is it good binnie," you coo at him. "am i being a real help like she was, hm?" you repeat his words back to him.
"'s good, it's so good-" is all he manages to get out, his words slurring together as his mouth hangs open on his sounds.
you lean down, crashing your lips against his for a heated kiss. "open," you mumble. and he obediently listens, sticking out his tongue as you grab his jaw. you spit into his mouth and he watches the string land on his tongue with a moan. he eagerly swallows it while staring at you lovingly when you let him go, hitting his cheek lightly in praise. he could've cum at that moment if he had permission to.
you fuck him unforgivingly, grinding your hips down in a way that's pleasurable for the both of you. soobin slowly thrusting upwards to meet your hips, forgetting all about your demand as he chases his release that was building up quickly.
"cum, please - ngh can i cum~" he cries, his eyes wet with the threat of tears from how fucking good he felt. god he was so close, but he wanted to be good - he can be good.
you giggle, reaching into his hair and tugging it again. soobin hisses in pain but his cock throbs at the same time. "already?" you tease. he nods with a pouty whine, looking up at you with his shiny eyes.
"i'm going to countdown from five, okay?" he nods again, blinking hazily and a tear runs down his face. he looks so pretty when he's fucked out like this. "be a good boy and hold it until then." soobin brightens up, his face practically glowing at the praise. he nods eagerly, his body vibrating beneath you as he anticipates his orgasm.
"five,"
you claw your fingers up his sides.
"four,"
you run them over his nipples, soobin squeaks.
"three,"
you drag them up to his neck, soobin tilts his head back to allow your more access. slowly, you apply pressure and he lets out a soft gasp and moan.
"two,"
soobin mumbles something you couldn't catch. you ask him to repeat himself and he gets shy before he says, "hit me again, pleaseâŚ" you laugh, making him turn red but who are you deny this beautiful boy that was taking everything you gave so well.
"one," at the same time, you slap his face with some force behind it. soobin feels like he's losing his mind when his orgasm hits him. his whole body convulses as the stinging in his cheek intensifies, his dick twitching endlessly as he fills you with cum.
his mind goes blank as he feels so fucking good, his body tingles and he feels lighter than he ever has. his eyes fluttering and he doesn't even try to contain his sounds. a mixture of moans and cries, the tears finally sliding down his face.
"good boy, such a good boy," you mumble praises as he rides through it, stroking his sore scalp gently and peppering tiny kisses all over his flushed face.
he breathes heavily as he finally calms down, his arms stiff from holding above his head for so long. he slowly moves them to wrap around your waist with a dopey smile. with the little strength he had in his weak arms, he pulls you down on top of him. he nuzzles into your neck, with a content sigh.
you still had lots to talk about but for now he wanted to bask in this euphoric feeling of being so close to you, your body on his. it was heavenly.
Š lucidwntrr est. 2025 - please do not steal, repost, or copy !
Hey hey i plowed through all of your Remmick fics today and đđđ tewww good. May a request a smut/fluff(or both I aint complaining) of a stupid little pathetic Remmick and reader who has to clean him up after feeding one night? please and thankss
Ęá´á´É´á´ á´ á´É˘
á´Ąá´: 4.08k
á´/É´: the floor is where remmick belongs. thank you lyn for giving me an excuse to continue to feed my unhinged pet!remmick kick bc that one fanart + the whimpering audio... i've been SO HORNY FOR THIS MAN!!!! and to think i originally wasn't into the idea at all???? who even am i anymore? this is just a small taste of the depravity you'll be getting in the pearl fic btw
á´Ąá´Ęɴɪɴɢęą: 18+ MDNI (!!!!!!), the filthiest smut i've ever written, no plot all porn, feral!remmick, pathetic!remmick, pet!remmick, sub!remmick, dom!reader, actually unhinged!reader, matching each other's freak, graphic violence, murder, arousal from murder, dacryphilia, begging, masturbation, cunnilingus, face sitting, orgasm denial, p in v, ride em cowgirl, unprotected sex, praise/degradation kink, very light sadism/masochism, drool, spit kink, blood, bloodplay, monsterfucking, squirting contest lets see who can squirt the farthest, miscellaneous horniness, excessive use of pet names, excessive use of good boy but i'm kind of obsessed with it
It was past midnight when you heard him scratching at the door.
Soft at firstâlight little scrapes of claws against wood. Then heavier. More urgent. A faint thud, as though something heavy dropped against the porch boards, followed by a low, warbling growl that didnât sound human at all.
You set down your embroidery and tilted your head, straining to listen through the walls of the old wooden house. Outside, the swamp hummed and hissed with frogs and night insects, the thick, humid heat pressing against the windows like breath.
Then came another sound. A long, slow dragging noise. Something being pulled over the porch planks, heavy and wet.
Your pulse quickened, not with fearâbut with a heat that curled low in your belly.
Because you knew exactly who was on the other side of that door.
And exactly what heâd brought home this time.
When you opened it, the smell hit you firstâcoppery and rich, warm and wet as a fresh kill. It poured into the hallway, mingling with the tang of swamp water and sweat.
And there he was.
Remmick.
Hunched low on the porch, shirt ripped half-open, suspenders hanging loose off his shoulders, chest heaving like heâd run ten miles through the grass fields. His hair hung damp and wild over his forehead, streaked with darker patches where blood had soaked in. His lips were peeled back in a grin too wide for a man, fangs gleaming slick and red.
And clamped between those fangsâlike a hound with a prize rabbitâwas a manâs wrist, limp and pale, trailing a body behind it like a ragdoll.
Remmick gave the limb a hard tug, dragging the corpse another foot closer to the door, leaving a thick, glistening smear of blood across the porch boards. His eyes glittered an inhuman red as he gazed up at you, panting softly through his nose, chest rising and falling.
âDarlinâ,â he crooned, voice rough and muffled around the corpseâs arm, âlookit what I brung ya.â
He let go of the manâs wrist, letting the body drop with a thud that rattled the boards.
A ripple of pleasure rolled through you at the sight.
Because God, he was beautiful like this.
Splattered with blood, hair stuck to his temples, eyes blown wide and starving. A monster. Your monster.
And you knew, without him saying a word, that heâd done it for you.
Not because youâd asked. But because some part of himâdeep and primalâneeded you to see what he could do. Needed your approval.
Blood dripped from his chin as he crawled forward on hands and knees, leaving dark streaks across the porch. He moved like an animal, shoulders bunched, hips swaying, his breath hitching in little, excited gasps.
âYâsaid⌠yâsaid I been good lately,â he panted, eyes flicking hungrily over your face, down your neck, then back up. âThought⌠maybe⌠yaâd like a present.â
He was trembling. Not from fearâbut from the strain of holding himself back. His fingers dug into the porch boards, claws half-extended, as though every muscle in him wanted to leap at you.
You felt your lips curl into a slow smile.
âWell,â you said, stepping closer so your slippers brushed the blood soaking the threshold. âAinât you a good boy.â
He whimperedâa soft, pleading sound that no human shouldâve been able to make.
A thick line of drool, tinged pink with blood, dripped from his lower lip to the porch. He licked it up messily, eyes fluttering closed, hips giving a tiny, unconscious roll as he rutted the air like a dog scenting a bitch in heat.
âWanted⌠wanted tâ show youâŚâ he gasped. âHow good I can hunt. How⌠how strong I am for ya.â
Your gaze drifted to the corpse sprawled behind him. The manâs throat was torn out, ribs crushed inward like a paper bag. There was so much blood it had soaked through Remmickâs trousers, splattering his pale skin, matting the hair along his forearms.
And he was hard.
Even crouched low like that, you could see the thick bulge straining against his fly, a dark wet spot spreading where precum leaked through the fabric.
He crawled closer until he could press his bloody cheek against your thigh, smearing crimson over your nightgown. He nuzzled there, breathing you in, voice breaking as he whispered,
âD-did I do good, darlinâ? Yâainât mad, are ya? Didnât mean tâ mess up the porch⌠just⌠couldnât wait no more. Had tâ bring ya somethinââŚâ
You carded your fingers through his blood-clotted hair, feeling the sharp little tremors rolling through his body.
Because the truth wasânothing made Remmick come apart faster than making you proud. Than serving you.
And as you glanced down at the ruin heâd dragged home, then back to his trembling, eager eyesâyou felt more heat pool low and heavy between your thighs.
Because Lord help you⌠youâd have to clean him up.
And you were going to love every second of it.
âBring it inside,â you said, voice calm and cool, though your pulse thundered behind your ribs.
Remmick blinked up at you, pupils huge and glassy, like he was half-drunk on blood and your praise. âY⌠yâwant me toâŚ?â
âNow, Remmick.â
A shiver rippled through his body. âYes, maâam.â
He turned and seized the corpse by the ankle, hauling it over the threshold without a secondâs hesitation. Blood smeared in long, glistening streaks across the floorboards, pooling thickly under the manâs slack jaw as Remmick dragged him further into the house and dropped him unceremoniously near the hearth.
You trailed behind him, lips pursed as you surveyed the crimson trails soaking into the grain of the wood, spotting where droplets had already flung across the walls, the furnitureâeven your favorite rug.
âRemmick.â
He froze mid-crawl, fingers splayed on the floor, shoulders bunching like youâd struck him. âMaâamâŚ?â
âLook at this mess,â You swept a hand toward the blood-slick path heâd left in his wake. âMy house looks like a hog slaughterhouse. Again.â
His ears seemed to pin back like a dogâs, his voice breaking. âI⌠Iâm sorry, darlinââI ainât mean tâââ
You stepped closer, tilting his chin up with your fingers. âYou know what happens when you make a mess, donât you?â
A trembling breath escaped his parted lips. âYes, maâam.â
âGood.â
And you walked away from him, your hips swaying as you moved to the armchair nearest the hearth. You sat down with deliberate grace, crossing your legs slowly, the hem of your nightgown rising just enough to show a glisten of skin.
âStrip.â
He obeyed instantly, peeling away his shredded shirt and shoving down his trousers, leaving him naked, streaked with blood, his cock flushed an angry red and leaking a glossy trail down his thigh.
You let your eyes rake over him, tongue pressing to the back of your teeth. âNow stand there. And donât touch yourself.â
His voice was hoarse. âPlease⌠please, darlinâ, Iâmââ
âShut up.â
He whimpered.
Then you spread your legs. Slowly. Luxuriously. Letting the nightgown fall open over your thighs as your fingers dipped between them, parting yourself to show him how wet you already were.
Remmickâs head jerked back like heâd been punched, a choked sob escaping him as he took in the glisten of slick on your folds.
âSee this?â you murmured, dragging two fingers through the wetness, swirling them over your clit until your hips gave a faint little jerk. âThis is what a good boy might get. But you ainât been good, have you, Remmick?â
âN-no, maâam,â he gasped, voice quivering as his hands curled into claws at his sides. âIâllâIâll clean it, I swear, Iâll clean everythinâ, please just lemmeââ
But you ignored him, leaning back against the chair as you circled your clit harder, letting out a soft, breathy moan.
âGod, mâso wet. All from you, Remmick. You look so fuckinâ filthy right nowâŚâ
He was shaking, drool starting to slide from the corner of his lips, dripping down his chin as he stared, unblinking, between your thighs.
âMaâam⌠pleaseâŚâ
âNo.â
You moved your other hand down, spreading your folds wider as you slipped two fingers inside yourself, your mouth dropping open on a ragged moan.
âOhhh, fuck⌠feels so goodâŚâ you panted, pumping your fingers slowly as you made sure to put on a show, letting your moans grow louder, wetter, obscene. âWish you could feel how tight I am right now⌠how hotâŚâ
Remmick let out a choked, keening wail, his cock jerking violently as more precum spattered the floor. He tried to reach for himselfâand immediately snatched his hands back when you glared.
âDonât you dare.â
âPleaseâplease, Iâm begginâ youâI c-canâtââ His voice cracked, trembling as more spit leaked past his parted lips. âLemme taste it, please, Iâll be so good, Iâllââ
You ignored his sobbing pleas, fucking yourself faster, letting your breath hitch and your thighs tremble as your orgasm crept closer.
He let out a sobbing moan that sounded painful, his hips jerking like he was trying to fuck air. Drool dripped in fat strings onto his chest, streaking the dried blood still caked there.
âPlease, darlinâ, pleaseââ
Your back arched off the chair as you came, your moans echoing through the blood-soaked parlor. You rocked your hips against your own hand, dragging out every pulse of pleasure until your vision swam.
When you finally came down, you pulled your soaked fingers from between your legs, your chest heaving as you stared him down.
Remmick was panting like heâd run five miles, eyes wide and starving, his entire body trembling.
âCâmere.â
He scurried forward on hands and knees, settling anxiously between your spread legs.
You held out your wet fingers. âClean.â
He threw himself forward, latching onto your hand like a starving beast, tongue dragging over every knuckle, every crevice, sucking your slick off your skin with wet, greedy slurps.
âGood boy,â you murmured.
He moaned around your fingers, hips giving another helpless jerk, precum dribbling steadily from the flushed head of his cock.
When you finally pulled your hand away, you cupped his chin, tilting his face up.
âKeep your mouth open.â
He obeyed instantly, lips falling open, drool pooling as he stared up at you, wide-eyed and desperate.
You leaned forward and spat into his mouth.
A thick rope of saliva fell across his tongue, glistening with your taste.
He swallowed it without a secondâs hesitation, a low, guttural moan vibrating in his chest.
âGood boy,â you purred. âNow lie down.â
An aching, panicked sound tore from his throat as he scrambled to the ground, eyes wide and focused on you, chest shuddering with every ragged breath. His arms were pinned tight to his sides as if he didnât dare move without your command.
You straddled him slowly, letting the blood on your inner thighs smear across his ribs as you settled your weight over his hips. His eyes followed every inch of you, pupils blown black, jaw slack.
You dragged your nails lightly down his chest, just enough to leave faint red lines. âAll this mess you made tonight⌠and for what?â
He tried to answer, but you slapped your hand over his mouth, leaning down until your lips brushed his ear.
âFor this. For me to sit on your fuckinâ face. Sâthat all youâre good for, Remmick? Lappinâ up my cunt?â
A muffled, shattered whimper vibrated against your palm.
You lifted yourself, knees sliding further up his torso, your wet heat hovering just inches from his face. He tilted his head back, panting open-mouthed, eyes wild and pleading.
âCâmon, baby,â you murmured, grinding your hips forward just enough that a string of slick dripped onto his chin. âMake me come again. Only thing you ever do right.â
He lunged.
There was no hesitation, no delicacyâhe surged up into you, mouth wide, tongue driving between your folds like he was trying to crawl inside you.
âFuckââ
Your head snapped back as he buried his face against your cunt, tongue plunging deep, then dragging up hard and flat with obscene, wet sounds.
He was ravenous.
Slurping, sucking, growling low in his chest, nose mashed against you as he inhaled sharp, desperate breaths like he couldnât get enough of your scent.
âJesus fuck,â you snarled, clutching fistfuls of his hair as you ground down. âThat what you wanted? Get blood all over my floor so you could eat my pussy like a fuckinâ animal?â
He moaned wildly in answer, tongue twisting deep inside you, then flicking out to lash your clit so fast and hard your thighs started to tremble.
âGoddamn, Remmickâshitââ
You rocked your hips forward, forcing more of your weight down onto his mouth. He whimpered but didnât pull back, letting you smother him, his eyes fluttering half-shut as he focused on licking you raw.
Every breath he tried to take came out as a choked little gasp against your slit, his chest bucking as he struggled to keep up with your grinding hips.
âFuckinâ filthy monster,â you snarled, tilting your hips so his tongue hit deeper. âThis what you were made for? Lickinâ up my mess like some rabid mutt?â
A muffled yes vibrated against you as he tried to answer without pulling his tongue away. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling like claws, but he didnât dare touch you or himself.
âSay it,â you ordered, grinding harder. âSay what youâre good for.â
He ripped his mouth away just long enough to sob, âF⌠fuckinâ made tâ eat your pussy, maâam⌠th-thatâs all Iâm good forââ
âDamn right,â you spat, slamming yourself back down onto his mouth.
He yelped but instantly resumed his assault, tongue thrusting into you in desperate, messy plunges, slipping up to flick and circle your clit until sparks exploded behind your eyes.
Your thighs began to quake as your orgasm crept up fast and brutal, the heat inside you coiling tighter and tighter with each frantic suck.
Remmick was moaning loudly now, sloppy noises echoing off the blood-splattered walls, as if he was getting off on how you shook and sobbed above him.
âFuckâfuckâgonnaâoh Godââ
You didnât even finish the sentence.
Your second climax slammed into you like a freight train, your vision whiting out as your hips bucked uncontrollably. A gush of come spilled out of you, splattering his cheeks, his chin, soaking his hair and streaking down his throat.
He didnât flinch. Didnât pull away.
He drank it.
Tongue darting to catch every drop, mouth sealed around you as he sucked hard enough to make you scream.
Your body convulsed on top of him, muscles locking as you let out a raw, broken wail. Slick kept pouring out of you, soaking him until his whole face glistened, until the taste of you and the scent of blood mingled into one thick, intoxicating perfume.
When the worst of it passed, you sagged forward, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath.
Remmick was still licking gentle little stripes up your slit, tongue trembling, eyes half-lidded with adoration and feverish lust.
âGood fuckinâ boy,â you finally rasped, reaching down to slap his soaked cheek lightly. âNow clean up your mess, and do it right.â
He whined, tongue flicking out faster with something desperate to prove.
But suddenly, you lifted yourself up off his face.
Remmick let out a pitiful little wail, his head snapping upward, eyes wide and wet. His hands jerked against the floor as he tried to grab you, fingers clawing at the air, but your knees were still planted firm on his biceps, keeping him pinned and helpless.
You cupped his flushed, slick-covered cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over the edge of one crimson-stained fang.
âPatience, Remmick,â you cooed, voice dripping sweet venom. âNow carry me to the sofa.â
He blinked at you, breath shuddering, then nodded so fast his hair flew around his face. âY-yes, maâamââ
He clambered upright, still trembling, chest heaving as he bent to slip an arm under your knees and another around your shoulders. Even soaked in blood and trembling like a leaf, he lifted you with ease, holding you cradled tight to his chest.
He stumbled a little, feet sliding on the blood-slick floorboards, but he managed to carry you across the room, eyes flicking to yours every few steps as though terrified you might vanish if he blinked.
When he reached the sofa, he eased you down, setting you delicately on the cushions like something fragile and precious. He hovered there above you, hair wild, blood streaking his chest, cock bobbing angrily between you both.
You didnât give him a chance to speak.
Instead, you grabbed his shoulders, pushed him back into the sofa, and swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.
Remmick gasped, head falling back, throat exposed and shining with blood and sweat. His hips bucked upward instinctively, trying to slot himself into your heat, but you lifted yourself just out of reach, hovering your soaked folds an inch above his flushed, leaking tip.
A low, desperate whimper crawled out of his throat.
âDarlinâ, pleaseââ
âUh-uh,â you chided, pressing a palm to his chest to hold him still. âTell me how bad you want it.â
His eyes snapped open, wild and hungry. His fingers clawed helplessly at the cushions beside his hips as he tried to thrust upward again, only for you to push him firmly back down.
âCâmon, Remmick,â you purred, leaning in closer, your lips brushing his ear. âTell me how much you need my pussy.â
He broke.
âIâI need it, I need it so fuckinâ badâGod, darlinâ, Iâm hurtinâ for it, pleaseâplease, let me feel you, Iâll do anythinââIâll clean the whole house, Iâll sleep on the floor, wear that collar, let ya leash me up and drag me wherever yâwantââ
Your grin curled wicked as you teased your wet slit against his throbbing tip, coating him in your slick without letting him push inside.
He choked on a sob, his hips trembling, cock twitching violently as more precum spilled out to mix with your juices.
âSay it,â you whispered. âSay exactly what you want.â
âIâI wanna be inside yaâwanna feel ya squeezinâ meâwanna come in ya, fill ya up so good yâdonât ever wanna leave meâplease, baby, please, Iâm begginâââ
Halfway through the last plea, you slammed your hips down in one vicious drop.
Remmick screamed.
A ragged, animalistic sound tore from his chest as your walls clenched around him, swallowing every inch of his thick length in one slick, blazing-hot plunge. His eyes flew wide, rolling back almost immediately, fangs snapping down as he clutched at the back of the sofa like he was trying to hold on for dear life.
You set a ruthless pace, bouncing hard on his lap, hips smacking down with sharp, wet slaps that echoed off the walls. Slick spilled down your thighs in messy rivulets, drenching his lap as you fucked yourself on him, grinding deep enough with each thrust that your clit scraped the base of his cock.
He was gone.
Sobbing, eyes streaming tears, chest heaving as he babbled a flood of words that barely made sense:
You licked a long, slow stripe up his cheek, catching the salty tang of his tears mixed with the faint iron of blood still streaking his face.
âMmm,â you purred, breathless as you slammed down even harder. âYou taste divine, sugar.â
And then you crushed your mouth to his, devouring him in a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as the tang of blood and your own slick flooded your senses, your tongue stroking over his fangs as you swallowed every broken whimper he offered up like worship.
You felt itâfelt the way his whole body was trembling, the wild, frantic pulse of his cock deep inside you, the way his hips gave these tiny, desperate jerks that spoke of a man right on the edge of breaking.
You pulled back just enough to snarl against his lips.
âDonât you fuckinâ dare come without me.â
Remmick let out a shattered sob, forehead pressed to yours, eyes glassy and wild. âY-yes, maâamâyes, IâI wonâtââ
âSay it.â
âI-I donât deserve tâcome without ya,â he gasped, voice rising to a shrill, breathless cry as your walls clenched tight around him again. âDonât deserve itâwanna come with you, wanna feel you take itâpleaseâpleaseââ
You rocked your hips down harder to make a point.
âYou wait for me,â you hissed, slamming your hips down with punishing force.
âY-yesâfuckâyes maâamââ His voice cracked, high and wrecked, tears streaming down his cheeks as he panted open-mouthed, spit glistening on his lips. âIâmâIâm holdinâ it, I swearâI swearââ
You could feel the coil winding tighter and tighter in your belly, heat flooding your veins, sparks dancing behind your eyes as you ground yourself down harder, chasing that final, devastating release.
âRemmickââ you gasped, fingers sliding down to clutch at his wrists where his claws twitched and curled uselessly in the air beside you. âHelp me. Push me downâhard.â
He obeyed instantly, claws biting lightly into your hips as he slammed you down onto him with all the strength in his wrecked body.
Your world exploded into white.
You let out a strangled, guttural moan as your orgasm crashed through you, your vision whiting out as your walls seized around him, milking him in greedy, convulsive ripples.
And Remmick howled.
His hips snapped upward one last time, driving himself so deep inside you that the blunt head of his cock kissed your cervix, and then you felt itâthick, hot spurts flooding your cunt, pulsing into your deepest depths as he came with a sobbing wail.
Your name tore from his throat as he kept rutting into you in tiny, frantic thrusts, shoving his release as far into you as your body would take it. His eyes rolled back, fangs bared, drool spilling over his lips as his claws gripped you hard enough to bruise.
And through every wave of bliss, every aftershock that left you shaking and gasping, you felt him pouring into you, thick warmth seeping past your already stretched entrance, spilling over his thighs and yours.
He collapsed against the sofa, still pulsing inside you, chest heaving as he sobbed your name over and over, his voice wrecked and trembling.
âFuckâfuckâGod, thank yaââ
Smack.
Your palm landed lightly against his cheek, not hard enough to sting, but enough to snap his glazed eyes open, confusion swimming in the crimson depths.
âRemmick.â Your voice was soft, sing-song. âWho said you were done?â
He blinked rapidly, lips parting as he tried to gather his breath. âIâI didnât meanâIâm sorry, maâamâIâm sorryââ
You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head. âMmm. You better be.â
Without another word, still trembling and leaking inside you, Remmick slipped his arms under your back and thighs, lifting you effortlessly off his lap. Your slick spilled warm down his shaft and onto the sofa cushions as he rose, your bodies still pressed close, your breath brushing his neck.
He staggered slightly, knees buckling as aftershocks rippled through him, but he caught himself, gripping you tighter, holding you like something precious.
You let out a low laugh, locking your arms around his neck, your legs hooking around his waist so he couldnât put you down even if he tried.
âWhere are you takinâ me, baby?â you murmured, lips ghosting over his ear.
He panted, voice ragged. âBath, maâam⌠gonna⌠gonna get ya cleanâŚâ
âMm. Sâwhat I thought.â
He started toward the bathroom, feet leaving sticky prints of blood and other fluids across the wooden floors as he carried you. His hair hung in damp, tangled strands, sweat and blood drying in rusty streaks over his pale skin.
As he crossed the threshold, you glanced back over your shoulder at the carnage left behindâthe smeared crimson trails, the cooling corpse near the hearth, the splatters reaching all the way to the walls.
It should have looked like hell.
But all it made you feel was a bone-deep, feral sort of satisfaction.
You turned back to Remmick, your chest pressing to his as you leaned in to place a soft, gentle kiss against the curve of his cheek, smiling wickedly when he turned to look at you.
summary: After his win against Jon Moxley in the death match, Adam feels the weight of what he had to do hanging heavy in his chest. He goes out to a bar to try and find relief at the bottom of a bottle but finds something else instead. His relief comes in the form of the bartender who knows nothing of who he is or what he has gone through, just what he needed to be able to wash out the savagery from his body.
pairing: hangman adam page x reader
word count: 9743
warning: smut, minors go away
this one is a request for hangman x reader smut set after his revolution match from @lambofjudgement! sorry I lost your ask somewhere babe, I was trying to put it in my drafts before so I could prepare the answer but then I couldn't find it anymore. Also sorry this took so long to come out and it's this big, yall this is why my requests take so long, I often end up turning them into much bigger things, esp if I like the concept. anyways, here it is, horny and rough cowboy action. thank you so much for the request I loved writing it and it made me 3x hornier for the hangster which has actually enhanced my quality of life!
Wednesday nights at the bar were always slow. Few people went out to drink in the middle of the week, and most of the ones who did were familiar faces, long time patrons who either drank too much or lived under weird schedules. Not that you were one to judge, youâd had your own ups and downs in life, so you didnât care much. Besides, your job was to serve drinks, not ask questions. Not unless people wanted you to, some always did, but most just wanted to be left alone. And so you did, happy to serve orders that you knew like the back of your hand and be surrounded by faces you'd seen a dozen times before. So, it was a wonder when you spotted somebody new.
It was way past the middle of your shift when he came in, movement in the bar slowing down as the clock already marked eleven in the night. Music played softly in the background as you cleaned the stone counter, the bar mostly empty. Just a few people hang around, the odd couple here and there, the low noise of their conversations filling the space in between. Youâd been sitting in a chair and just looking through your phone when he came up to the counter, blue eyes looking around before he spotted you. To see a new face on a Wednesday night was a surprise already. For that new face to be a big guy with a black eye was something else.
Your first worry at the sight was that heâd be some sort of troublemaker. A big, strong looking dude walks into your bar with a busted eye, there is no way you wouldnât worry. Today was one of the few days you didnât get to stay until closing, the last thing you needed was a problem patron right at the end of your shift. You looked him up and down, looking for any suspicious sign, any small thing that could count as a warning. But contrary to your fears, the man just politely asked for an old fashioned in a voice so quiet you almost couldnât hear it. His demeanor seemed so different from the rough look in his face that you almost couldnât believe it.
As you started preparing the cocktail he struck up conversation - another surprise to you, usually the types to show up looking like trouble were the ones who liked to drink in silence. A heavy southern accent spilled through his words as he made small talk, he was charismatic and good at conversation and despite his looks, he sounded nice enough. You quickly learned his name was Adam and that he wasnât from this city, just passing by for work. He never specified what he worked at, and you didnât press either, you had more interesting questions in your mind. Questions that could help you decide whether this guy fine or if you should be pulling the crowbar from under the counter.
âSo,â you started, going back to cleaning your shaker as you tried to pretend you werenât quite so curious, âlooking like you had a rough day there, buddy.â
âAh,â Adam stuttered in his words, one hand coming to touch the skin under his swollen eye, an awkward smile playing on his lips, âyeah, not my best, but at least Iâm alive.â
You smiled back at him, trying to set him a bit more at ease. His answer made it seem like whatever happened to him hadnât been by his own choice, but you still felt curiosity getting the better of you. Youâd try one more time, if he didnât want to answer, youâd let it drop.
âMind if I ask what happened?â You leaned into the counter, pulling your chair closer to him as you sat down.
âWell,â Adam looked around, taking a deep breath before his gorgeous eyes fell back to you, soft gaze wavering just slightly. âGuess I caught the attention of the wrong person.â
You looked back at him, a grimace coming to your face for just a second as his blue eyes looked into his cup, a large hand twirling the dark liquid around. The guy clearly didnât want to discuss what happened, so you wouldnât ask anymore. Besides, if what he said was true, it seemed heâd fallen in with the wrong crowd. Youâd seen that story play a dozen times, it never really ended well.
âShit,â you replied with a sympathetic smile, Adam watching you from the corner of your eyes as he drank his whiskey, âletâs hope you donât have to go through that again.â
âYeah, letâs hope for that,â he retorted with a small laugh, raising his glass to you before taking a large gulp.
Adam was more than glad when you dropped the subject. His body was still sore and freshly bruised from his encounter with Moxley, but in the end, heâd come out alive. No matter the cost. But he had come to the bar with the intention of forgetting that very match, forgetting just how far he had to go to win it. His body refused to let go, it refused to slow down from the sheer violence it had gone through, but his mind needed the break. He needed it desperately.Â
So went looking for the first bar that seemed like nobody there would be watching any sort of sport whatsoever, and thatâs how he found this place. From the outside, the bar looked like a hole in the wall, and the minute he stepped in, he was quick to figure out why. It was a punk bar - or at least some sort of underground rock bar. The place didnât want to be noticed because it catered to a particular clientele, and right now, Adam was all too happy for it.
When he entered the place, it seemed nice enough, and the fact that people seemed not to care about his presence was a welcomed change. But from the moment he sat on the counter, however, he only had eyes for you. Maybe it was the violence still coursing through him, trying to find another outlet to escape - or maybe you just looked that good. But the moment his eyes found you, he could feel something in his body stir, even as he tried to push it down. Even as he tried to tame whatever part of him that was behaving so much like an animal.
As Adam asked for a drink, he could see your eyes judging him, heavy stare regarding him with violent suspicion. Even your burning glare and tough demeanor did nothing to lessen his powerful and sudden attraction. He made polite conversation, trying to keep his wandering eyes under control and hoping he could avoid the obvious topic of what happened to him. It didnât really work, but he was glad you were quick to drop the subject when you noticed his vague answers. He had come to the bar trying to be something else, somebody other than the person heâd been at the ring. He wanted to forget what he had to do today, and if just for a night, be cleansed of this whole issue with Moxley. And as he continued chatting with you, a part of him hoped you could help with that.
Soon, you found yourself enjoying what was supposed to be just polite small talk. Adam had a charm around him, a certain magnetism that made it hard not to smile and his words and laugh at his every joke. And itâs not like his looks were helping either, despite the purple bruise on his swollen eye he still looked beautiful, blond hair framing his face in the most flattering way. Hell, maybe the bruise made him even more so, adding this air of dangerous mystery to his soft blue eyes. Clashing with the sweetness of his deep voice and the warmth of his laughter.
Though you werenât stupid, before he was even done with the drink you could tell he was trying to hit on you. You could see his baby blues wandering from your eyes to your mouth before going back up. The drawl of his voice sounding so welcoming as he tried to smooth talk you. This wasnât your first rodeo, youâd seen plenty of others try this before - most not even half as good looking as him, though. But you played along, half out of boredom and half out of honest interest. You had no special plans for the night, and you wouldnât mind finishing it with such a handsome man between your legs.
You two went like this for a little while, flirting and talking whenever you didnât have to serve something or another to someone whoâd come up to the counter. Adam was a good talker, charming and polite, with a deep voice and a thick accent that you wouldnât mind listening to for a long while. Heâd arrived at the bar quiet and almost defeated, but as the whiskey worked its way around his body he started perking up, laugh coming easier as he started to relax. It was when you were putting away one of the bottles, back turned to him, that he hit you with a question you wanted to hear.
âIf you donât mind me asking,â he started, taking a sip from his whiskey as you turned back to him, âwhat are you doing tomorrow?â
âAre you trying to ask the bartender out, Adam?â You asked teasingly.
âIf sheâll have me,â he replied, voice a deep rumble as a smile played on his beautiful lips.
âSheâd love to,â you leaned into the counter, smiling back at him before cocking your head to the side, pulling your body further from him. âYou are shit out of luck, though, I gotta see my brother and nephew tomorrow. Havenât seen the brat in a while, canât back down this time,â you saw his smile drop, shoulders slumping slightly as he took in your answer, but before he could respond you continued. âBut, if you arenât scared of being out this late, my shift ends in half an hour.â
âWell, darling,â he smiled again, tongue licking a droplet of his drink that spilled down his lip, his voice thick and inviting, âIâm not afraid if you arenât.â
When your shift ended, you changed quickly back into your normal clothes, an old band t-shirt with the neckline and sleeves cut off tucked into the jeans youâd worn for work. Pulling Adam by the hand, you quickly drag him away from the bar, through the front exit and into an empty street. When he protests about where you are going, you just tell him that itâs going to be somewhere nice, enjoying his look of shock and confusion. He was clearly surprised at the ease with which you traversed through the silent streets. You may be horny, but you werenât just about to get into a room with this guy without giving him a run for it first, just to make sure you werenât going to die.
Itâs about a fifteen minute walk before you pull up to a partially hidden park, Adamâs eyes widening as he takes in the sight. The park was surrounded by large buildings, if someone didnât know it was there, they probably wouldnât have found it. That by itself was already something, but mounted somewhere in the park was a projector he couldnât see. All he could see was the large black and white movie projected in one of the gray walls, the sounds of it coming from further ahead. You pulled at his hand again, taking him from his state of shock, holding two beer bottles in your hand as you led the way forward.
You stopped by a tree a little further away from where most of the people were gathering. There were few people sitting around in the park, most of them gathered in a spot closer to the projection. You had chosen a place by the side of it, not central but still visible. Handing him the beer, you leaned back into the large tree, Adam following suit. The projection was of an old horror movie, some black and white creature feature heâd never seen before.
As you talked a few minutes, he discovered you knew the man who ran this outdoor screening - he was the owner of the bar. It was an event that happened twice a week, and youâd come here after work to wind down. In the back of his head, Adam wondered if you could see just how much he needed to wind down. You talked and laughed at the movie for a while, and he could feel his body and mind starting to relax. The ghosts of what had happened hours before seeming more distant now. He felt lighter, laughing with disregard at something from the movie when your voice interrupted him.
âSo, was the impromptu date worth it?â You ask, voice and eyes betraying your desire.
âVery much so,â he replies, letting his own desire drip through his voice, turning his body towards you.
âThen I guess I deserve a reward?â You question, already leaning closer to him, a mischievous smile painted on your face.
Adam reciprocates the gesture, leaning forward and closing the space between you, crashing his lips into yours. He brings a hand to hold your face, the other sneaking around your waist as he feels your hands touch his chest. Your lips taste like citrus to him, they are soft and sweet, and he wouldnât mind staying in their taste. Adam bites softly into your lower lip, making you whimper in his arms, and he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His touch starts light but very quickly becomes rougher as he feels you lean into the kiss more, arms coming around his neck, your chest pressing against his.
His strong hand holds you by the back of your head, tongue tasting every bit of the soft wetness of your mouth. He can still feel the beer over the citric flavor of your lips, the faint taste of alcohol dancing on your tongue. You moan into his lips and Adam shivers, cock twitching in his pants at the sensation. He doesnât want to, but he has to break the kiss for air, lips finding your neck the moment he regains his breath. You smell like wood and cinnamon and something sweet, and it has him intoxicated.
You moan under his touch, a hand slipping into his blond hair as the other goes back to his broad chest. He looked strong before, but now under your touch he feels impressive. Thick shoulders feeling solid like rock to your fingers, powerful arms holding you in a vice like grip. He could snap you in half if he wanted, you were sure, but he doesnât, hand cradling your head gently as he devours your neck. His presence feels almost addictive to your senses, the feeling of his body on yours, the taste of his mouth, the way he smells like leather and moss. Itâs all too much and not enough at the same time.
Tugging on his hair, you pull his face back to yours, lips meeting with a needy cry. You slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting the beer and whiskey on him. He growls through the sloppy kiss as your hand travels from his chest and down his solid torso. You feel his grip on your waist harden as your fingers slowly move down. He takes over the kiss, biting and licking with fervor, abusing your lips while the hand on the back of your head keeps you in place. Your fingers slip past his belt, finding the rough texture of his jeans and the clear bulge pressing against the fabric. It feels big, hard and hot, and you need to have it now.
Slipping your other hand down, you work fast to unbuckle his belt before Adam can protest - though, something tells you he wouldn't really do that. Breaking from the kiss, you look him in the eyes, the blue all but gone as his dilated pupils take over the space. You let your hands hover over the button of his pants for a second to see if heâd stop you, when he doesnât, you undo it fast, pulling the zipper down in a haste. You slip your hand down into his pants, looking around you for a moment, counting on the distance from the people and the cover of the dim light to keep you safe.
When you finally pull out his cock, Adam shudders, a low grunt escaping his lips. God, he looks so good, big, thick and hard as metal on your hand. You canât wait to taste it, lowering your body down until your lips are almost at his head. Looking back at him, you catch his darkened eyes trailed on your mouth as he leans back into the tree trunk. You teasingly slip your tongue out, licking his sensitive head. He trembles in your hand with an erotic noise, and thatâs when you dive in, finally taking him into your mouth.
Adam mutters a curse under his breath, words coming like a rumble from deep within his core. He watches as your pretty lips seal tight around his cock, sucking on the swollen tip, one hand gripping at his base. Shit, he usually wouldnât do something like this, but he was way past caring right now. Your mouth felt so warm, so good, his need was the only thing running through his head at the moment. Taking one hand to your hair, fingers softly holding at the strands, he lets you set the pace, happy to just drench in the pleasure he felt.
You take him out of your mouth for a second and Adam almost whines at the loss of your warmth. He watches you kissing along his underside, going all the way down to the base of his hard length. Your wet tongue licks around his erection before finding a particularly sensitive vein on his underside. He hisses as you trail his length from the base to the slit slowly, pleasure bordering on pain at your torturous pace. A deep groan escapes his throat, as you take him in your mouth again. Adam looks around, just for safety, as he made more noise than he expected. There is nobody around, no one looking, you are still in the clear.
He watches you swallowing his thick cock a good two thirds of the way to the base. You felt so perfect, mouth warm and wet, and he canât help the moan that leaves his mouth. This was so risky, but it felt so good, the adrenaline rush heightening his sensations. Adam watches as you bob your head up and down, the wet noises you are making sounding pornographic as they reach his ears. You work him so well, building up the tight coil in his core, and you hadnât even taken him all in your mouth. Though, you didnât even need to, he could already feel his body twitching at the pleasure, hips begging to buck into your soft lips.
You feel Adamâs grip tightening slightly in your hair, a groan rumbling through his body as it falls from his lips. His erection throbs against your lips as you take more of it in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of precum already spilling from his slit. He was thick and long, and you were struggling to take in all of him, but fuck, you really wanted to. You feel the swollen head of his cock hit the roof of your mouth, so big and hot that it pulls a moan from you, the vibrations going straight to his length. Adam moans out your name, a string of praises falling from his lips.
Bobbing your head up and down, you start to take more of him. You feel his cock throbbing in your mouth as his hips buck up. You can tell he is trying to keep control of his movements, but itâs clearly not going very well. Your lips come close to his base, and he growls, the sinful sound making your core tighten and your body shiver. He starts praising you again, his words emboldening you to move, his thick cock filling up the inside of your mouth, precum leaking vigorously now. Gagging slightly, you feel his cock reaching the back of your throat, his hand caressing your head as his murmurs never cease. When your lips finally circle his base, he shudders under you, whispered praises morphing into an unintelligible moan.
Adam feels himself twitch and throb at the sensation, his erection surrounded by the warm wetness of your mouth. You start moving again, and he has to fight the need to thrust into your beautiful lips. He feels almost delirious as you bob your head, taking him all the way to the balls every time. His dirty praises turn to a string of curses that fall from his lips like mad prayers, the feeling of your wet mouth dragging along his sensitive cock having him in a trace. Your tongue presses just right on the thick vein on his underside, stimulating the sensitive spot until he canât help the bucking of his hips.Â
You could feel his hard length throbbing between your lips, he tastes so damn good, so sinfully delicious. His engorged head hits against your cheeks as you suck, salty precum coating your tongue. The hand on your head grips tighter onto your hair, but he doesnât try to move you, even though he canât help the thrusting of his hips anymore. You are moving with ease now, slobbering down his heavy erection, the mix of saliva and pre cum making it all easier.Â
He was coming close, you could feel it, his body shaking under your touch and his voice becoming rougher and filled with desire. You begin to feel his thick cock throb and twitch as his hips buck harder. He tasted good, so good, and the feeling of his hot skin against your tongue had you groaning into his length. Adam started to lose himself in moans and praises that spilled out of his perfect lips almost mindlessly. You could feel his powerful legs twitching and trembling from the pleasure.
Adam was panting, the knuckles on the hand he had on the ground turning white. Shit, you felt so damn perfect, mouth wet and hot as you took his cock so fucking well. All he could think of was how perfect you felt, the way you took all of him in your mouth, the throbbing of his length as it rubbed on your tongue, and it was all so damn good. When you groaned into his cock, it was too much to take, the coil within him snapping with a thunderous shudder that shook his whole body.Â
The hand on your head held you in place, length buried almost to the hilt in your mouth, swollen head close to the back of your throat as his release began to spill. Rope after thick rope of cum shooting from his tip, flooding your mouth before flowing down your throat as you started to swallow it. It tasted strong and so damn good and there was so much, your core throbbed at the thought of having him filling your pussy with it. You sucked Adam through his orgasm, making sure to milk him to the last drop of his cum before you let him go from your mouth and tucked him back into his jeans.
You closed his pants and belt before coming back up to his eye level again. The moment you did, he pulled you into a harsh kiss, tasting himself in your mouth as you immediately let his tongue inside. The kiss was rough and sloppy and despite having just had his release, Adam still needed more. Pulling away from the wetness of your mouth, he held your face close to his own, strong hand holding you by the strands of your hair, his eyes savoring your red and swollen lips for a second before finding your gaze.
âFuck, you are so damn good. Iâm gonna take you to my hotel room âcause I really need to fuck you right now,â his words came in a grunt, voice deep and husky and filled with desire, his mouth was so close to your face that you could feel his breath on you.
You nodded, and that was all the confirmation Adam needed. Getting up in a haste, he pulled you up by the arm, quickly making his way to the entrance of the park. He got you both a cab, keeping you locked in a sloppy kiss as you waited for the car to arrive. The drive to his hotel was short, but you could tell was fighting the need to just ravage you on the way as his hand held your thigh in a strong grip. When you entered the elevator, the two of you were already at each otherâs mouths, too needy and desperate to care about the obvious camera watching your intense kiss.
The minute Adam locked the door, you were already working on the buttons of his shirt, pushing him back into the hard wood as your lips found his neck. His skin felt hot to the touch, burning up against your mouth as you trailed your tongue from his shoulder all the way to his jaw. Your hands clumsily opened the first few buttons of his shirt, feeling the soft hairs on his chest brushing against your fingertips. A part of you wanted to rip his shirt open, an animalistic display of desire. But you wouldnât do it, no matter how much you wanted, and by god you did. His smell had you intoxicated, and you could barely wait to feel him inside you.
With a rough movement, Adam pulled your mouth to his, calloused hands grabbing you by the chin and holding you in place as his lips crashed on yours. Opening your mouth, you let him take what he wanted, because you wanted it so much too. His tongue immediately slipping between your lips, the kiss rough and sloppy. You could still taste the bitterness of the beer in him, accompanied by the slight remnants of the whiskey heâd had at the bar. The biting sting of alcohol only making the kiss feel all the more erotic.
The hand on your face traveled to the back of your neck, gripping hard to keep you in place, thick fingers digging into your skin. His free hand circled around your waist, pulling you flush into his strong body, closing whatever tiny distance there was between you. His touch was hot, searing iron marking his path around your body, setting your nerves in a burning haze. Your head felt dizzy, and you didnât know if it was the alcohol or if you were running out of breath, but god, you couldnât care less. You wanted more. More of the smell of his skin, more of the taste of his tongue, more of his touch wherever you could have it.
Adam was the one to break the kiss, gasping for air as his strong arms caged your body against his. In the darkness of the room, you couldnât see his eyes, only feel the heat of his ragged breath on your skin and hear the faint groan slipping from his lips. It sounded raspy and tense, like the promise of something powerful and wild hiding below the surface. Something mysterious and alluring that spoke to a deep part of your mind.
The moment you felt oxygen rush back to your head, your lips found the exposed expanse of his chest. You kissed and licked your way around his heated skin, tasting whatever you could of him as your fingers went back to working on his buttons. He pulled you even closer together, your crotch rutting against his, and you could feel his erection through his jeans. The large bulge rubbing against your pants, your pussy tightening at the thought of having him fully sheathed inside of you.
Your wet tongue against his chest had Adam grunting loudly, sound filling the emptiness of his hotel room. At this rate, you were going to drive him crazy, turn him into something made of only instinct and desire. He could feel your hands opening the buttons on his shirt, slowly inching closer and closer to his crotch, the anticipation building a raging fire within him. By now, he was already painfully hard again, the smell of your hair and the feeling of your body against his own having his blood rushing down in a matter of seconds. It hadnât been even a full twenty minutes since heâd cum in your mouth back in the park, but he didnât care, he still felt his balls full, and he needed to unload inside of you again.
Digging his fingers through your locks, Adam pulled on your hair hard, savoring the sweet moan that escaped your plump lips. Bringing your face back to his own, his lips brushed against yours for a long moment before he dove into the kiss, teeth sinking into your lip before he sucked it into his mouth. His hand on your waist traveled lower, grabbing a handful of your ass and groping you hard, fingers digging into your soft flesh through the fabric of your pants. You cried into the kiss and Adam couldnât help the rutting of his hips against your own, he felt like an animal, but his need was well beyond control at this point.
When his tongue entered your mouth, you moaned again, sound silenced by his greedy lips. You could feel him grunt, the vibrations in his chest reverberating into your hands, powerful muscles shaking under your touch. You worked your way to his last button, hands caressing his heated skin on their way down. When your fingers touched his belt buckle, you felt his hands leave your body, but it lasted only a moment. Soon they found the back of your legs, pulling them up in a swift movement.
You broke away from the kiss, a surprised noise leaving your throat as he pulled you by your thighs, knees coming around his waist. On instinct, your hands found his shoulder, the fear of the fall ringing loud through your ears. Though, you soon realized he had you in a strong hold, barely a noise coming from him as he lifted your body with ease and started to make his way to the bed. His strong arms held you in place against him, broad shoulders feeling powerful under your soft palms.
In the darkness of the night, you could barely see the outline of the things in the room. The large windows had their curtains open, but there was nearly no moon in the sky today, and you were so high up that almost no buildings could shine a light through the clear glass. You could only believe that Adam was traveling by instinct through the large space, long strides almost unencumbered by your weight. In his arms you felt light as a feather, solid muscle holding you close with ease as he walked.
In a few steps you felt him come to a stop, throwing your body into the large bed, the soft touch of the covers caressing your skin. There was a long moment of stillness as you laid there, watching the outline of his body move in the darkness. You heard a clicking noise and suddenly a dim amber light bathed the bedroom, coming from a floor lamp that stood beside Adam. The warm glow bathed his light skin, beautiful blue eyes darkened by lust. Even the black eye marking his face looked good on him. You only had a second to bask in his wild beauty before he climbed onto the bed, the mattress shaking under his weight.
With a swift movement, Adam pulled his shirt from inside his pants, violently removing it from his body before throwing it aside. That was the first time you got a full look at him under that shirt, solid ropes of muscle rippling under the skin of his arms and shoulders as he moved. Small scratches and bruises adorned his thick torso, whatever this man had gone through, it had left multiple marks. Still, somehow they only made him look better, marred skin only adding to his exquisite pull.
Slowly, Adam crawled over you, large frame covering your body as his face hovered over yours for a long, intense moment. You could feel his hot breath on your skin, the anticipation of this near touch driving you insane before his lips finally crashed on your own. His mouth was as hot as his skin, your hands flying to his chest and shoulders as his tongue tasted everything it could touch. He growled into the kiss, sound dying on your mouth, but the vibrations rolling through his thick chest and into your hands. He was diving into you like a starving man, and you were all too happy to reciprocate.
Holding himself up in one arm, Adam took his free hand to your hips, pulling a part of your shirt from inside your pants before slipping under it. His calloused palms savoring the soft touch of your heated skin. His fingers sunk deep into your tender flesh as they moved up through your curves, taking in as much of your body as he could. You felt so supple under his touch, so welcoming to his large hands as his mouth devoured yours with fervor. The kiss was growing sloppier by the second, tongues and lips wet and warm in a mindless dance. He wanted to sink deep into you, and he didnât care if he would come back again.
Pulling away from your lips, Adam broke the kiss for air, but in a moment his mouth found the skin of your jaw, kissing his way to your neck. You moaned under his touch, squirming beneath him as he bit into your soft skin, the taste of your body having him intoxicated. He could feel your nails digging into his back, adding to the scratches heâd been given during the match. Your hips bucked against his, giving his large bulge the friction it so desired, stoking the fire burning deep into his core.
His mouth traveled from your neck to your shoulder, kissing and biting a wet trail down to the neckline of your shirt, his beard brushing against your sensitive skin. Without a warning he sat up on his knees, looking down at your body with pure desire before he started hastily taking off your shirt. His thick fingers digging at the waistband of your pants, roughly tugging at the dark fabric. Pulling it free, he slides it over your head and arms as you angle your body to help get the damn thing off. Adam throws it to the side, uncaring about where it lands, eyes finally finding his prize.
Broad hands find your exposed torso, his fingers digging into your curves as darkened blue eyes devour you like a hungry beast. Your skin glistened under the warm glow of the lamp, looking deliciously soft as your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Adam stays still for only a moment, savoring the sight before his hands travel upwards, rough palms committing your warmth to memory. Licking his lips, he finds his target, large fingers groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he growls low and dark.
You watch as his eyes follow the movements of his hands, the sound that just left his throat having a shiver running through your body. He is gripping hard on your tender flesh, bordering the threshold of pain but never crossing it. The pleasure is building up slowly, but you still want more, you try to squirm, but he has you pinned under his weight, so heavy that he doesnât even seem to register your movements. When his fingers find your nipples, rolling them between his index and thumb, you almost scream. The sound that leaves your mouth akin to the cry of a desperate animal.
The noise seems to be what breaks him, Adamâs eyes turning back to your face for a moment before he dives back to your mouth. He descends on you like a wave, lips crashing against yours before you can even close them, tongue slipping inside in a second. You almost feel like you are drowning in him, but you have no desire to resist. His body covers yours completely, one of your hands flying back to his shoulders, nails digging deep. Your other hand travels to the back of his head, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging tight.
Adam responds with a deep grunt, mouth leaving yours and moving to your breasts, biting and sucking at the soft skin. You feel his hands move to your waist, fiddling with the button of your jeans before finally pulling it open, zipper following suit. His fingertips dig into the skin of your hips, sliding past the fabric of your panties and teasing you with light touches. You try again to squirm under him, earning only a soft groan as his lips finally find one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it with the same hunger he showed your mouth.
Pleasure ripples through your body, a loud moan coming from deep within you, but you still want more. You slip the hand on his shoulder down his naked torso, feeling his warm skin and the hairs on his chest, digging your fingers into whatever you could touch. Soon you reach his pants, going past his leather belt and straight to the bulge straining against his tight jeans. It feels big and hot to the touch, even through the thick fabric. You hear Adam groan under your touch, the animalistic sound only urging you on, hands rubbing and tugging at his clothed cock.
A raspy moan sounds from him, your nipple slipping from his warm mouth as he sits up again, a fast movement that has his blond hair falling to his eyes. With one hand, he brushes it back, gaze fixed on you as he pauses for a moment. Without breaking eye contact, both his hands fall to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it out in a flash, the leather snapping as it slips from the hoops. It, too, is thrown to the side with little care, his fingers then finding the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You try to reach for him, hands dying to grasp at his cock, but he pulls away, getting up from the bed before finally taking off what was left of his clothes.
God, this man is the most sinful thing youâve seen in a while. His large frame looms over you, large cock looking delicious, precum already gathering at the tip. Before you can even move, Adamâs hands fly to your hips as he starts to pull on your pants. Soon he has your clothes and shoes in a mess on the floor. You are left bare, fully exposed to his hungry eyes. You reach out to touch him, and he lets you this time. Kneeling before him on the bed, your lips find the skin of his torso, kissing your way down, fingers grasping at his thick cock, lazily moving up and down. Just as your mouth reaches its destination, tongue licking at his sensitive head, getting a shiver out of him, Adam pulls your head back by your hair.
âAs much as I really like your mouth,â he breathes out, accent thick as he watches you licking your lips, âI want something else now. Come on, get on your knees for me, darling.â
You shiver at the sound of his voice, following his request and positioning yourself on your hands and knees on the bed, arching your back so your chest touches the covers. You feel the mattress dip under Adamâs weight as he climbs on it, a growl sounding from behind you, deep and rough and dripping with lust. A large hand touches your ass, groping it hard before his grip grows lighter, fingers traveling from your hips to your back in a soft touch that has your pussy aching. You want so much more - need so much more - and not seeing his movements only makes your desire grow.
His hand travels back to your hips, sliding over the curve of your ass as you feel his body coming closer to yours, his hard cock touching your soft skin. You whimper, craving more of his touch, pushing back into him, but his strong hand holds you in place, a humming noise coming from behind you. His free hand finds your inner thigh, and you moan at the light touch. It slides up until it finds your wet pussy, thick fingers diving into your warm flesh with a low growl from him. You arch your back further, whimpering again as he massages your folds and teases your entrance.
Adam feels his fingers slide over your pussy with ease, your wetness coating his hand as his cock twitches in response. A rumble emerges from deep within his chest as the hand on your hips grips harder into the softness of your flesh. He bends his torso over your body, lips touching the skin of your back in warm wet kisses while his thick fingers tease your clit. You moan a soft and breathy sound and Adam drinks it in greedily, the hand on your hip traveling up your torso until it finds your breasts.
His kisses run up your spine, beard teasingly scratching your skin as he moves to your shoulder and neck, sinking his teeth into your skin, savoring its taste. You cry out, pushing your body further against his, rubbing your ass against his sensitive cock, and he growls, a shiver running through his body at the delicious friction. You have him feverish with desire, lust burning bright within his core, and he just canât take it anymore. Pulling away from your body, his hand goes back to holding you by the hips, the one on your pussy leaving your soft flesh to find his length, pumping himself a couple of times to coat it in your wetness.
He looks at your exposed form in the dim light of the room, lust chasing all the blue from his eyes as they follow your curves. Blown out pupils devour your body as Adam gives himself one last tug before lining his cock with your pussy, sliding it up and down your wetness teasingly with a low groan. You whimper and try to press into him again, this time he gives in, sliding his thick erection almost all the way in. Curses spill from his mouth at the sensation, your soft walls wrapping around him in the most delicious ways.
A husky and needy moan escapes your lips as you feel him entering your body, thick cock filling you up and lighting all your nerves ablaze. He feels so sinfully good, better than you expected, pleasure spreading through your body like wildfire. The hands on your hips grip tighter, and he starts to move, slowly pulling back out before sliding in again. You can feel every bump and vein of his cock dragging against your pussy as he thrusts further in. Thatâs when you notice he wasnât even fully sheathed in you before, his hard length reaching deeper into your body as he stretches your walls. Â
His movements are slow and deliberate, dragging your insides on every curve of his cock as he pushes his way in. You feel his swollen head pressing deliciously against your soft walls. This time Adam makes it all the way inside, you feel his hips meet yours as his strong hands pull your ass back against his body, a hiss escaping his lips. Your pussy tightens around his length, the fullness making you whimper, a high pitched noise that almost doesnât resemble your own voice.Â
Adam starts moving again, strokes long and slow as he works himself in you from the tip to the base. You are mewling in pleasure, nails digging into the soft covers of the bed. He sets a hard and heavy rhythm that rocks your hips every time he bottoms out. Your pussy clings to his cock with every slide, walls quivering around his hard length. You feel his fingers sliding down your back until it finds your shoulder, large palm pressing into you into the bed with his weight as his movements start to speed up.
âFuck, youâre so damn good,â he mutters more to himself than to you, words spilling in a haze as he drives his body violently into yours.
Desire starts taking over Adamâs mind, hips moving faster as your walls pulsate against him, making his cock twitch within you. You feel way too good, and he canât get enough, rubbing his pelvis against yours as he bottoms out every time. Your ass pushing even further into him as you seek his touch. The sensation of your wet pussy around him, the erotic sound of your moans and whimpers, the feeling of your heated skin on his own, it all has his mind reeling, the coil in his core tightening ever further.Â
Using his forearm to hold himself on the bed, Adam curves over your body, covering your back with his broad chest as his hand finds one of your breasts. He traces your neck and shoulders with his mouth, tongue savoring your taste as he lays sloppy kisses and light bites on your sensitive flesh. Sweat starts building between your bodies, heated skin rubbing against each other as you move in rhythm. You tremble under his touch and Adam feels it, feels the moan that rumbles out of your throat, his cock twitching in response. Your cries sound so needy and so sweet, he just canât get enough.
Adam can feel the soft, warm walls of your pussy tightening around him and pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. His hips hammer against yours, making you spasm with every stroke, your ass pushing into him, trying to take his length even deeper. Biting hard on your shoulder, he moves the hand on your hip down to your core, finding your sensitive clit. His thick fingers slide over your wet cunt, relinquishing your wetness as he massages your folds. You tighten around him impossibly so, his thick cock twitching in response as he growls. Your pussy feels like it was made for him, and he pushes in deep, whole body shuddering as you cry out his name.
You feel like you are going mad under his touch, his weight pressing you against the bed as his fingers massages your clit just right. His body feels molded for yours, the head of his cock hitting your sweet stop with every thrust. Your senses begin to overwhelm you, a tightness in your core getting close to snap faster and faster. A desperate cry sounds from your lips as Adamâs hips snap against yours, your ass pushing further into him. He is muttering curses under his breath, so close to your ear that you feel its warmth, his voice intoxicating you. It only takes one more flick of his finger and you break, crying in a high pitched voice as your senses melt away, vision going white and all you can feel is your pussy convulsing around him.
Your walls tighten around his throbbing cock, Adam riding through your orgasm as your pussy tries to milk him. The noises you make only pull him closer to the edge, biting into your skin again as he tries to hold on. Pushing himself up in one fluid motion, his hands return to your hips, pulling you to him as his strokes become harder. He is thrusting into you deep and fast, chasing that high that was building in him.
âAtta, girl,â he growls loud and dark, deep voice having you trembling as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy.
His cock twitches and spasms more now, the coil in his gut tightening close to its limit. A roar leaves Adamâs lips, the sound of a wild thing, a caged beast ready to break away. He thrusts hard into you, breathless whimpers spilling from your soft lips as he slams forcefully into your abused pussy. He wants to mark your insides, the thought of filling you up flooding his mind. A part of him wants to stay like this forever, buried in your soft wetness, fucking your body hard and rough. But he feels his balls tight and heavy and so fucking full, he just canât help but to chase his release.
Strong hips slam into you, his rhythm growing rougher and more aggressive as he feels himself getting to the edge. He is pulling you impossibly close, pushing his thick length as deep as he can go, and then deeper. You give a breathless moan of his name, walls convulsing around him and itâs all he can take, cock throbbing wildly inside of you. Stars take over Adamâs vision and he drives deep within you, burying his length all the way to the balls. His orgasm hits him with power, a rough and husky groan coming from deep inside his chest as he rides it.
Adamâs cock explodes in you as he fucks your soft pussy, deep thrusts driving his seed deep inside your body. He shoots rope after rope of white, thick cum, a torrent that seems never ending. He drains his heavy balls in you for the second time that night, flooding your pussy as your name slips from his mouth like the prayers of a damned man. Staying still for a second, he lets the high wash over him before pulling out, drinking in the whimper that leaves your mouth at his absence.Â
He falls to the side, laying heavy on the bed as you follow suit, both too exhausted to speak. For a minute, you both just stay still, breathing deep as you try to recover. You feel your whole body trembling, but youâve never felt better before. The bed moves, signaling that Adam had gotten up. You stay still for a few more moments until you feel the mattress dip again, turning to the side to find Adam sitting by you with a towel in hand. The soft blue has returned to his beautiful eyes, the combination of his messy hair and dark bruise on his face looking way too goon on him.
Adam helps you clean up, for someone with such a rough exterior, covered in bruises and scratches, he is the definition of a gentleman. His touch is so light and soft that it seems unimaginably far from the violence with which heâd fucked you just a few minutes prior. It sends a shiver through your spine to think of how powerful these hands are and how gentle they felt. Not that you were complaining, this softness seemed to suit him well. You wouldnât mind being treated with such tender care every day, especially not by a man as handsome as him.
When you wake up the next morning, sunlight was already entering through the wide windows. Slowly you blinked your eyes, the world coming into focus with little hush. Your body felt a little heavy, a little sore, muscles aching slightly and sinking you further into the soft bed. Despite the ache, you felt good, more relaxed than you felt most mornings. It took a while, but your mind finally came to, remembering the night youâd had before.Â
As you really looked around, the first thing your eyes found was the vast expanse of Adamâs back. His light skin marked by multiple cuts and dark bruises that you hadnât seen the night before. You wondered for a second just what it was that heâd gotten into, what sort of life laid behind this monument of a man. The previous night heâd felt wild, even aggressive, but he never made you feel unsafe. It really made you wonder what else there was to him.
Laying on your back, you stared at the empty ceiling for a second when a thought popped into your head. In the morning bliss, youâd forgotten you had somewhere to be today. Looking around, you spotted your pants, digging through them to find your phone. Checking the time, you saw it was already almost ten in the morning. Damn, you were hoping you could get some wake up sex, but you needed to be at your brotherâs by midday. Fuck, heâd even sent you a text already. Just as you were checking the message, you felt a large hand touch your shoulder.
âShit, I hurt you,â Adamâs voice was low and rough from sleep, his accent sounding thick on his groggy tone, your name spilling from his lips in the sweetest way, âIâm so sorry, I shouldnât have bitten you so hard.â
You looked back at him, his fingers tracing a spot that stung a bit at his touch. In all honesty, you were barely feeling it, a sign that it probably looked worse than it was. Besides, you didnât mind it anyway, you wouldnât have changed a thing from the past night, even if he left a few marks on you.
âItâs ok,â you smiled at him, shaking your head as you turned your body to face his. âDonât worry, Adam, itâs not hurting.â
âItâs purple,â he interjected, fingers traveling to your chest as he noticed another bruise in your breast, âand there is more than one. Fuck, really, Iâm sorry I left you bruised.â
âItâs fine, really,â you whisper, voice soft as you run your thumb over his cheek, right below his bruised eye, âand now we are matching, I guess.â
Adam laughs and the hoarse sound fills the large bedroom, soft blue eyes coming to your own. You feel his large hand snake around your waist, pulling you into his warm body, lips finding your own as you feel his hard cock touch your skin. The kiss starts soft, Adam teasing your lower lip until you finally open your mouth to let his tongue in. This time his touch is slow as he lazily tastes all that his tongue can find. It takes all of your strength to break away from the kiss, your hands coming to his broad chest as you try to create some space. You really canât leave your brother hanging today.
âYou so donât need to apologize that if I could, Iâd let you spend all day giving me more bruises,â you say, sighing dramatically before you continue, âbut I really have to go. Gotta visit my brother and nephew, remember?âÂ
With a sigh of his own, he lets go of your body, laying on his back as you roll to the other side. âIf you could, Iâd very much take you up on this offer,â he retorts, voice returning to normal as he looks back to you.
âWell,â you start, eyebrows raising as you reach back to the night stand by your side, picking up your phone and waving it in his direction, âI could give you my number if you want, next time you are around you could give me a call.â
His eyes lit up a bit at the offer, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. âWell, Iâd like that very much, doll.â
You watch as Adam goes through his clothes to find his phone. When he does, you give him your number, he immediately sends you a message to make sure you have his contact. If you never see him again, this was a great night, but if you ever have a chance to repeat it, might as well try to grab it. You and him both get dressed pretty quickly, Adam insists on paying for your cab, even when you insisted he didnât need to, in the end you just accept. He sees you out of the hotel and into the car, and so you make a peaceful trip back home.
Itâs already past midday when you get to your brother, you feel bad for running late, but not really quite as much. You may have delayed his family lunch by about forty minutes, but it was for a good cause. Besides, itâs just you, him and his son, so it's not like that many people were harmed by your lateness. Lunch goes by pretty well and you still spend a few more minutes talking as your nephew goes back to the living room.Â
When you finally leave the table to go after the boy, you find him lying on the floor watching TV. The large screen glares over the living room and it doesn't take you long to realize he was watching wrestling. Your brother used to love it as a kid, and now so did his son - you had never really gotten that caught up in it. You were about to just disregard what was on the screen until something caught your eye. A recognizable silhouette seen from the corner of your vision. When you look back to the TV, you clearly recognize one of the figures on the screen. He was dressed in a full black cowboy get up, but there was no mistaking it, that was Adam.
In another part of town, Adam made his way through the hall of the large hotel, long strides carrying him from the elevator to the entrance. He was just leaving to go have lunch, it was a bit later than he normally would, but heâd spent most of his morning trying not to let his match with Moxley slip back into his mind. A fight he was ungracefully losing when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Picking it up, he saw it was a message from you, and it had only one line.
âSo, why didnât you tell me you are a cowboy?â
i wanna seductively take off a slasherâs mask (w/ their okay ofc cause consent is sexy) and coo at them how pretty they are only to fuck them silly and get them addicted to me in every way, shape, and form :(
The Reader turns heel, which turns on her boyfriend. Despite not having much time to explore the possibilities, the Reader makes the best of it.
Pairing: Will Ospreay x Reader
Warnings/Promises: public SMUT in a closet, subby!Will, handjob, oral (male receiving), quickie, implied further smut
Word Count: 1215
Note: Happy Easter! This Ospreay guy is starting to grow on me. I haven't thought much about writing for him. Letâs change that, shall we? Happy reading!
To the roar of the crowd, you happily left the arena. Things were going perfectly. Your new gear was a hit. And, more importantly, the crowd despised your heel turn. The cost was high, threatening your relationship with over half of the womenâs division. Maybe with the heat, more people would become invested in what you ladies were up to, and Tony Khan would finally agree to more TV time.
You were as much of a success backstage as the crowd hated you out front. After receiving your congratulations for becoming AEWâs most hated woman, you practically skipped to your dressing room.
Where a tall drink of tea was leaning against your door.
âWell done, love. Couldnât have stabbed my best friend in the back better myself.â Will wrapped your arms around his neck so he could bury his nose into your hair. âNo hard feelinâs between us, right? I donât think Iâd survive being your next target.â
âNot that I can think of,â you said with a giggle. Then you leaned into his embrace. And pressed into something promising. âWill, honey. Is there something else hard between us?â
He looked up at the ceiling, innocent as a rotten rosebud. âMaybe-â he dragged out. âAnd maybe⌠I think I like you best as a heel. Itâs⌠itâs something, ta say the least.â
âTo the least.â You bit your bottom lip, and started curling your fingers in the short hairs at the base of his neck. âIâm glad you like my new schtick. But, I hate to break it to you,â you reached past him and opened the door into your dressing room, âbut weâve got to hit the road.â
âBut-â He followed you in. Snagging your wrist, he pinned you to the inside of the door. âBut I want to see this other side of you. I want to-â he pressed his lips to your forehead, sliding your wrists over your head, âI want to explore your bad girl side.â
You rolled your eyes. âYouâll have to explore me later. Weâve got a bit of a drive, and then an early morning in just a few hours. Maybe tomorrow night?â
With a pout, he moved out of your space so you could change and toss the last of your things into your suitcase. On your way out, people kept stopping you to have you repeat bits of your promo. Will didnât seem bothered by it. At least, not irked enough to tell people to buzz off. But he kept shifting his weight. Avoiding your gaze when youâd finish. His hand seemed twitchy when you took it. And he was limping.
âAre you okay?â You guided him and the luggage to one side so you could give him a once over out of the way of the pack-up crew. âDid you pull something in your match? Did the Doc look you over yet?â
He muttered short, flustered things to keep your hands off his ribs. But when he shifted his weight again, his grey sweatpants revealed the problem. âReally, itâs nothing. Nothing I canât- canât handle later.â
âLater? You canât drive with⌠that.â You had to smile at his antics. It was sweet of him to not push his desire onto you when he was so obviously in need. You looked around. Until you spotted a doorknob. You dragged him towards it, gasping in delight when it turned under your grasp.
Will tried to resist. âBut- you said- you said we have an early morning. And we- we could get locked in here.â
âNot the worst thing weâve done. Besides, thereâs always some of the guys that stay late. Theyâll see our luggage and know weâre still nearby. Or theyâll call.â You held up your phone, activating the flashlight so that you had a little illumination. It was then that you could see how Willâs chest heaved. How his eyes drank you in. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it more than before. âI havenât touched you yet, and you already look like Iâve ravaged you,â you whispered. It was supposed to come out as a laugh, but your own breath was short. And your heart pounded in your ears.
Outside, the packing-up of the show drifted away. At any moment, surely, your phone would start ringing.
âWe-â you licked your lips. âWe donât have much time.â
You tugged at Willâs sweats and brazenly pulled his length into the open. He groaned loudly, making you reach up to slap your other hand over his mouth. He laid his palm over your knuckles, reaching back with his other hand to steady himself against the wall.
The Heel rose up inside you.
âYou gonna be quiet for me?â you whispered. Gently giving him a twist, you leaned in to lick at the underside of his jaw. Willâs eyes rolled back and he moaned again. âGonna be good for me?â
He nodded frantically, thrusting into your grasp.
How many times had he taken you like this? In his dressing room or yours, or in some empty hallway. Shoving his hand down your pants to curl his fingers into your desperate slick while the other one kept you quiet. Now you know why he did it so frequently. It made your breath stutter to see him shake with need. To feel his length pulse in your hand. In the bare gleam of your phone, his eyes fluttered as your tugging and twisting quickened. You pressed your thighs together, rubbing them for a bit of friction that would never be enough. You didnât care. Willâs grip tightened over your hand on his mouth. His nails bit into your skin.
âGetting close, pretty boy?â
A broken whimper was his reply.
You maneuvered your grip until you could press Willâs hand over his mouth. âBeing so good for me. Letting me boss you around. Keep it up. Just a bit longer.â With that, you sank to your knees.
Your lips had barely wrapped around his length before he was throwing his head back. His release filled your mouth, spilling out and dripping onto your shirt. Doing his best to follow your order, he pressed his hand hard over the sounds that tried to escape as he rode out the high.
When he was spent, you tucked him back into his pants. And you tugged at the bottom of his sweatshirt till he let you steal it.
âIâll change into another shirt when we get the bags to the car.â
His eyes were wild as he tried to catch his breath. Running your fingers over his cheeks and forehead, his flushed skin told you everything youâd ever need to know about whether to try this again or not.
âBut-â he gasped, swallowing hard, âbut you?â
âDonât worry. Iâll get mine later.â You let wickedness overtake the gleam in your eye. âMaybe I can put on a show for you?â He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the hall cupboard. The bags tipped over, rolling and sliding across the concrete until he had all of their straps and handles under control. âWell, come on, then. I canât leave my bad girl waiting. And for the record,â he kissed you hard, pinning you against a trellis, âyou can boss me around any time.â
***
Masterlist
Other hallway quickies:
Jealous - Smut with Elias
If We Get Caught - Smut with Jimmy Uso
Finish Me - Smut with MJF
Back Hallways - Smut with Roman Reigns
Our Princess - Bobby Fish x Reader x Kyle OâReilly
Tags: Secret relationship, sneaking around, flirting, vaginal fingering, hand job, hickeys, condomless sex
Summary:
You and Bret try your hardest not to reveal your secret relationship to everyone. Eventually you two have too much fun one night and accidentally make the relationship known.
