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ohh :( well if that’s how you feel then yeah, it was nice to be around for your writing! hope you have a good time in the future and everything, sincerely internet strangers :]
I'll probably be back! I just watched the new spiderman movie and the odyssey and am feeling a little something something
hey, i know it was just part of the alphabet series (which is great btw) but i just love how you write Peter parker, i think you do a great job at portraying his personality through writing and if you ever have an idea involving him you should really go for it! :) and it might also just be a personal preference but you do write him very well when he’s more dom if it involves smut, either way, great writing!
This is a very nice message, thank you! I honestly think I'm kind of done with this blog, though. I've been writing and posting on ao3 for a pairing I got really into again, so I don't really have the inspiration to keep posting on here.
This blog will stay up (probably). Thank you all for all of the support over the years :) <3
This barely even has any gunplay in it, honestly. I just wanted to write it.
Warning for highly dubious consent, bottom male reader, and violent imagery. This'll probably be the last NSFW Alphabet post. Sorry I never finished it, but I hope you've enjoyed what you've read so far :)
You wake to a loud crash in your house. Blearily at first, but then your eyes shoot open when another noise follows. You think you’re dreaming, but then the fear sets in when you look over and realize that you’re still alone in bed.
Your husband left a week ago on a… business trip to expand his clientele base. He’s taught you how to use a gun before, but after getting out of bed, you decide you’d rather not even try, given how hard your hands are shaking.
Still, before you leave your bedroom, you look over at the hidden safe. A moment of relief washes over you when you think that perhaps your husband was arriving home earlier and was just stumbling through the house from exhaustion. Or from the influence of alcohol or drugs. He wasn’t one to shy away from a rowdy celebration after a successful trip from home.
A smile lights up your face as you slowly open the door, but once you arrive in the kitchen, it falls from your face. You were just about to open your mouth to scold him on hearing yet another crash, but the man who greeted you wasn’t your husband.
In the kitchen, the man riffles through one of your drawers, throwing the things he’s not looking for to the ground without a thought. You look around the man, noticing the few other open drawers and cabinets and the mess in front of them.
You jump when the man pulls something out and tosses it to the ground, muttering curses under his breath. You try to cover the gasp you let out when the object shatters, but the man is able to hear it.
A chill runs through your body when the man turns his hulking figure towards you. “look who’s finally awake,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by the ski mask over his face. He stands there, waiting for you to move, both of his hands at his side. One is empty, but the other holds a gun.
“I have a gun,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest.
The man’s eyes roam your body before he looks back up, unimpressed, “where?” He questions.
You tremble under his gaze, even if you aren’t able to see much. Under the soft light of your oven’s overhead light, you’re only able to make out his piercing blue eyes.
“My husband will be back soon,” your voice wavering as the words leave your dry mouth.
The man’s eyes fill with amusement, “so you’re alone?”
Cursing yourself, you reach down and dig your fingers into the doorway, trying to prepare yourself to push off the wall and run.
“The cops are on their way,” you say, trying your best to keep the words steady.
The man holds his hands up, but like he’s taunting you, and not in surrender. “It’s,” he glances at the clock on the oven, “one in the morning on a Saturday night,” he says as he slowly steps closer, “how long do you think they’ll take?”
“They’re coming,” you whisper, the man now an arm’s length away.
The man lets out a soft laugh, “whatever you say,” he answers mockingly. Closer than before, he takes his time to look you back over once again, “you going to answer the door like that?” He questions.
You realize then what little you have on and how much skin the man is able to see in only a t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
“Your husband should keep you on a tighter leash," the man says as he steps even closer, “if you were mine,” he whispers, tracing a finger along your collar where one side of the shirt droops off your shoulder, “I’d never let you answer the door like that. This would be for my eyes only.”
Your bottom lip trembles, “please don’t hurt me.”
“Shh,” the man coos as large, gloved hands run down your sides soothingly. He pulls one away for just a moment to pull his ski mask off, “you know me,” Jason says, “I’d never hurt you.”
“Jason?” You ask, trying to push away from the man, but he wouldn’t budge, “what the fuck are you doing? Why’re you in my house?”
“Taking what’s mine,” Jason answers, pushing you up into the doorway.
“I’m not yours,” you huff, craning your neck to see if there’s something you could use to get him off you.
Jason uses the opportunity to place his mouth on your neck. You shiver once again, but this time it’s from the warmth filling up your gut.
Too far away to grab anything from one of the countertops, you get your fingers in Jason’s hair and go to pull, but when he runs his tongue up the column of your neck, your mind goes blank.
Clarity hits you like a truck moments later, and this time you do pull, hard. “I’m not yours,” you argue, “I haven’t been for a long time.” Leonida wasn’t small. It wasn’t like you were expecting to run into Jason again after the whirlwind romance you had that left you heartbroken.
Jason pulls away, licking his lips, “do you love him?” He questions.
His words catch you off guard, your body tensing up.
Jason smirks, “not like me, yeah?” He leans in, his lips hovering over yours.
You did love your husband, that is true, but not completely. He’s too similar to what you had lost for you to. Jason could see right through you.
You shove at Jason’s shoulders, the man sending you a look of surprise when you’re able to move him.
“Fuck you,” you say, your lip trembling once again, but this time from the tears of anger welling in your eyes, “you don’t get to just come back after what you did.”
Jason’s surprise melts into frustration, “I told you, my life was going nowhere. You deserved better than that,” Jason says.
“After all these years, you still think you had the right to make that choice for me?” You yell. You wait for Jason to answer, but when he doesn’t, you continue, “get out of my house.”
You’re nearly back at your bedroom when Jason comes barreling down the hallway after you. You let out a shout when he grabs you and pulls you into his chest, you try to reach out towards your nightstand, like your phone would magically come flying into your hand, but you freeze when you feel something cold and hard pressing into your side.
“What’s to stop me?” He breathes into your ear, “I’ll fuck you in his bed, and then kill him when he gets home.”
Tears fall from your eyes when you realize that it’s his gun poking into you. You close your eyes against the pressure of it through the thin layer of your shirt, hoping that you could count to ten and open them and this would be over.
Jason chuckles against your ear, his other hand trailing down your body until it gets to your hard cock in your underwear, “you’re still a fucking freak,” he whispers.
You gasp and your eyes shoot open, “that’s not me,” you struggle against his hold, carried by adrenaline, “not anymore.”
Jason’s arm moves to wrap around your waist, “you married a fucking drug lord,” he says with another laugh, “you think you’re all that different?”
“Please-”
Jason hushes you once more, “you’ll be my husband,” he says, lips tracing the shell of your ear, “until he gets home,” he finishes, the click of the safety disengaging loud in your ears.
“And then what?” You whisper, asking like he didn’t just tell you.
“I won’t make you watch,” he whispers, grinding the bulge of his cock into your ass, “it’ll be over fast,” Jason says, one of his hands sneaking up your shirt, “then you’ll be mine again.”
You stare out the doorway as Jason prepares you, and again once he’s deep inside you. Even when Jason covers your eyes, “don’t look out there,” he says into your ear. But you can’t help it.
You listen for just a moment and let your head rest against the bedspread. You moan into the fabric when Jason follows you down, his cock feeling as if it’s going deeper. He moans above you, Jason’s hands moving to rest atop yours and tangle your fingers together.
When Jason pulls away with a kiss to your nape, you look back out into the darkness. This time, you let your head hang between your shoulders, making it so that Jason isn’t able to tell where you’re looking, or that you’re looking at all.
You imagine scenarios like your husband coming home and wading through the darkness, only to be shot once he’s through the doorway.
You imagine a different one where somehow a copy of Jason comes up from behind and shoots him, your eyes twitching from the imaginary impact of blood spray. You force yourself out of it with a gasp, feeling lightheaded.
“Breathe,” Jason whispers into your ear, his heavy weight stationary on top of you, “breathe,” he repeats, one of his hands around your neck. The grip is loose, just tight enough to hold your back to his chest and to feel your throat work.
You look down between your legs when Jason’s grip on you goes away, realizing that the sensation you imagined was your orgasm. You fall deeper into the mess, wondering if the blood on your skin would cool as quickly as your cum is.
Hands settle on your lower back, pushing you further into the bed as Jason’s thrusts turn frantic. You don’t remember the last time you’ve had sex this rough, the sounds of it echoing throughout the bedroom.
Jason’s hands tighten to the point of pain when he comes, carving out his place in your body once again. They fall away before his body comes toppling down, only to wrap solidly around your waist.
Before you can open your mouth to protest, Jason’s rolling you over onto your sides, letting the mattress take up his weight. It almost feels as if things haven’t changed, or, weren’t about to change, as Jason presses soft kisses to your nape.
On the edge of sleep, you can swear you can hear the sound of your front door opening, but instead of your eyes shooting open, you let it take you. Sleep, and the future that you knew was going to be different.
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I know I said I already had most of this written, but I instead deleted everything and wrote something more angsty. It has a hopeful (?) ending, though.
Warning for smut, bottom male reader, riding, blowjobs, light choking, and infidelity (Steve's partner from the end of the show is mentioned, but it's not in great detail)
“What’s the matter, Harrington?” You mocked, sinking down on his cock in one swift motion.
You both groaned at the feel of his cock making its way deep inside you, not stopping until you were comfortably seated in his lap. Well, as comfortable as you could be, crammed into one seat together.
“Can’t keep up anymore?” You asked, your hands digging into Steve’s shoulders.
Steve’s hands tightened around your hips, “I can keep up,” he thrust up experimentally, “just fine,” he said, teeth digging into his bottom lip in concentration.
A knowing smile spread across your face, “you can’t,” you laughed. “Fuckin’ knew it,” you said to yourself. You brought your hips up in the cramped space, Steve’s hands loosening momentarily before they tightened once more as you fell back down.
“Close already?” You asked with a pout, “but we just got started,” you whined.
You moaned when Steve, obviously frustrated, shoved back inside. His cock twitched from deep inside you, another truth you could add to your claim.
“What’s the matter?” You whispered into his ear, moving your hips with his movements, “not getting anything at home?” You questioned.
Steve gave a sharp thrust, “don’t,” he hissed. He wrapped a hand around your throat in warning, not enough to cause any damage, but enough to let you know it was there. He pushed you away, making just enough space to look you in the eye: “don’t talk about her.”
“Touchy touchy,” you replied with a sly smile. You grabbed Steve’s hand from your neck and moved it down your half naked body until it wrapped around your cock. “Must be serious,” you breathed, noticing the way Steve’s fingers wrapped almost instinctively around your cock, “you’ve never done something like that to me before.”
“Sorry,” Steve replied immediately, “I’m so-”
You pushed a hand over his mouth, “don’t ruin this,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “I never said it was bad.”
Steve nodded, his eyes flicked from your face to your hard cock.
You tried to move back in after pulling your hand away into a kiss, your first kiss in who knows how long, but Steve moved away at the last second. You chuckled, already expecting him to pull away.
“So that’s how it is,” you whispered to yourself, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to hear over the sound of his car creaking. You went lower, into the crook of his neck, and pressed your lips to that instead.
You smiled when Steve whined, his hips faltering. You nosed your way past the collar of his shirt and bit into the skin you found and groaned into the flesh between your teeth when Steve let out a loud moan.
“Fuck!” Steve moaned, his hands pulling you into his lap as he finished deep inside you. “Are you fucking-” his head fell back onto the headrest as his words fell off into a moan.
“What?” You asked in confusion, biting your lip to not smile. It was almost scary as you watched his head pull back up, nearly all of the pleasure written across his expression replaced by anger.
“You fucking bit me,” he griped.
You tried thrusting into his fingers, but Steve pulled them away. “It’s below the collar,” you fired back.
“Get out,” Steve replied, his voice low enough that you almost didn’t hear it.
“What?” You questioned, your stomach dropping.
“Get out!” He repeated, far too loud for the tight space.
You fumbled to find the knob, your hand slipping on the fogged up window. The cool night Hawkins air hit you like a slap in the face when you finally got the door open, Steve barely helping you as you stumbled out of the car.
“Can I at least get my clothes?” You gritted out, covering a hand over your softening cock. You two were completely alone in the field you were in, covered in darkness. It didn’t really make sense for you to suddenly feel modest.
Steve ignored you and instead tucked himself away before zipping back up his pants. You jumped when he got out of the car and slammed the door shut, “no,” he finally answered.
He grabbed your arm in a tight grip before he walked you over to the hood of the car. With his headlights off, you could barely see Steve as he lowered himself down onto his knees, but you suppose it didn’t really matter. He was able to find your cock anyway.
You groaned as Steve took the head in, his tongue swirling around the sensitive glands. He brought his hands up to your thighs to grip the skin in a bruising hold, making it clear to stay still.
He bobbed his mouth along your cock expertly, much too good for a man you only met up with once or twice a year when you visited Hawkins. Jealousy curled within your gut, your fingers aching at your sides to do something like bury your hands in his hair and fuck his face until you came down his throat.
“You’ve gotten good at this,” you observed, trying to say it casually, but from the way Steve pulled off your cock, it was anything but.
“Only you,” Steve answered, his voice wet and rough. Like he’s getting payback, he bites into one of your thighs, sending a flare of pain down your leg.
Your knees buckled from the feeling, your hands moving to the hood of the car to keep from falling. You’re coming across Steve’s tongue minutes later when he gets his mouth back around your cock, Steve’s throat clenching as he swallows.
A part of you thought Steve was going to leave when he pulled himself off the ground, but he returned minutes after he left with your clothes. He throws them at your chest, and you scramble to catch them, much more difficult than you expected in the dark.
Steve left once more as you got dressed, this time walking off into the distance.
“Steve?” You asked, stumbling after him as you struggled to get your shoes back on, “where’re you going?”
Steve turned to face you, “not used to being on the recieving end, are you?” He questioned.
“I don’t understand,” you replied, coming to a halt when Steve did, yards between where you stood.
“You left me!” Steve yelled.
“Can you blame me?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to him, “after all of the shit we went through,” you gestured around the area, “can you blame me for leaving?”
“For running away from your problems?” Steve asked, “for running away from me?” He stabbed a finger into his chest, “I can blame you.”
You let out a bitter laugh, “it’s not like we can talk to anyone and get help.”
“We can talk to Jonathan!” He yelled, coming closer, “to Nancy! To Robin!”
“They left too, didn't they?” You croaked, Steve now inches away. “You talk to them like this, too?”
“They’re different!”
“How Steve?” You asked, “I don’t understand-”
“They’re not you!” Steve yelled, his voice echoing across the field.
“It wasn’t going to be forever,” you said. “I was going to come back-”
“Like you always do, right?” Steve interrupted, letting out a sarcastic laugh, “just for a day or two so you can get what you want.”
“We’re good together, aren’t we?” You whispered.
“Fucking unbelievable,” Steve said with a bitter laugh, “that all this is to you now? A two-day fling?”
“What else can it be, Steve?” You asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” he replied, “you never gave it a chance to see what it could’ve been.”
“Steve,” you said, placing a hand on his arm, “you can’t live like that— thinking of the what-ifs.”
You felt Steve’s body tense underneath your hand before he pulled you into a tight embrace. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past year and a half?” He questioned, “I know you’ve been doing the same thing,” he whispered into your ear.
You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye with what little light the night sky provided, “that’s different,” you hissed, “those things-”
“Are gone!” Steve interrupted, “it’s been almost two years,” Steve said, his voice desperate, “there’s been nothing!”
“You don’t know that,” you replied, your voice wobbling.
“Maybe I don’t,” Steve said, his arms tightened around your body, “but what I do know is I’d do anything to protect you,” he said fiercely. “Stay,” he said quietly into your ear, “if anything else comes, we’ll face it together, just like we did all those years ago.”
Sorry for not continuing the alphabet in like a week. Even if it's not following the schedule I originally planned, I'll still get it done :) I have the next letter mostly written, so it should be posted soon
Light smut in this one with bottom male reader. The real warning is for Peter for stalking the reader. Also, spoilers for the ending of No Way Home.
“Howdy, neighbor!” you said with a huff as you pulled your laundry basket into the room.
“Howdy,” Peter paused, seemingly trying to figure out what to say, “partner?”
“Can you believe we pay extra for this shit?” You asked, gesturing to one of the other rusty washers in the room.
“Yeah, it’s uh-” Peter moved to stand in front of the machine’s window, “crazy.” He couldn’t let you see his suit. Sure, he could say it’s one of the many costumes sold around New York, but he knew how smart you were.
“It’s barely even-”
“In the unit,” Peter said at the same time you did.
“Am I that predictable?” You ask as you open the door and begin loading up the washer.
Predictable isn’t the word Peter would use. He knows you, has known you for years, in fact, but like the rest of the world, you didn’t remember him. He knows everything about you, down to the things you try to hide, like the underwear you quickly try to throw in with the rest of the wash before he can see.
“Those are cute,” Peter said, pointing at the red and blue underwear you had just thrown inside.
“Oh, those?” You let out an awkward laugh, “I can’t even remember where I got those,” you said, quickly tossing something else on top of them, making sure it’s not another pair of underwear.
Peter remembered: a gag graduation gift he had gotten you so “you can take a piece of me with you to college,” he had told you, like you weren’t planning on going to the same school.
Peter couldn’t act as he remembered, though. During his grief of losing you, of losing everyone, he devised a plan. A plan to get everyone he could back. You’re the one he’s spent the most time on.
It was easier to follow you after you graduated from college. There were no more classrooms he had to wait outside to get to know your routine, and no more students he had to be wary of recognizing him. He could tell that a few had their suspicions, mainly the ones you had become friends with, but he didn’t let that stand in his way.
There had only been one time you had managed to catch him: “it’s Peter, right?” You had asked, walking up to him as Peter sat on one of the benches he had frequented on campus.
“Yeah,” he held his hand out, trying to ignore the way a blush was rising in his cheeks, “Peter.” He had to shake your hand and pretend like he didn’t already know your name when you said it. He had to shake your hand and pretend like it wasn’t the first time he’d touched in what felt like decades.
“We live in the same building, right?”
“I think so,” Peter had responded. He shook your hand, trying not to overthink how tight or loose his grip was. Everything in him wanted to pull you into his chest and not let go, but he couldn’t ruin this.
“Do you go to school here, too?” You asked, letting go of his hand.
“Hopefully one day,” Peter responded with a bashful laugh, “I’m-” he paused, trying to find the words like he hadn’t already gone over a million scenarios of you two meeting again, “saving up right now.”
“If you ever need help with your application, let me know,” you responded with a smile.
Peter’s hand twitched at his sides, “I will.”
You nodded, sending Peter one last smile before you turned, “I’ll see you around!” You threw over your shoulder.
Peter watched you go, already knowing what the next class on your schedule was. He waited until he could follow you from a safe distance, using the time to stare at the hand you had held.
“You started on that application yet?” You ask, now moving on to detergent.
“Not yet,” Peter responded absentmindedly, too busy making a mental note of the cleaner you use on your clothes. If he at least knew what scent it was, he thinks it’ll quiet the urge to reach into the washer and smell the clothes himself. “I’m still working on my GED.”
“Then community college?”
Wordlessly, Peter nodded, and you continued.
“Sometimes I wish I would’ve gone,” you scrub a hand down your face, “these student loans I have.” You end with a shake of your head.
“Maybe we should save on bills and live together,” Peter responds without thinking. His stomach droped, thinking that he’s fucked up so much time of planning, watching, and waiting.
You let out a loud laugh, “we’re already in the same building, right?”
Peter’s heart pounded in his chest, his palms sweaty with nerves. He forced himself to nod, not trusting his mouth to not say something stupid again.
Shutting the door to the washer, you turned to face Peter after starting the cycle, “some friends from school are coming to my place tonight if you want to join,” you told him casually. “I’m in apartment number-”
But Peter has already tuned you out; he already knew exactly where he was going tonight.
The hardest part of that night was getting you alone. Peter could play fair when it came to the first few hours, but by the time it was nearing one in the morning, he was having a hard time controlling his face.
“You okay, man?” one of your friends had asked. He’s been with the two of your friends for hours and still hasn’t bothered to try to remember their names. He’s been too focused on you.
“Yeah,” Peter shook his head, trying to rid away the exhaustion he felt pulling at his bones, “yeah, I’m good,” he replied, forcing a smile. He wasn’t going to let a little drowsiness stop him now.
“You can crash in my room, if you want,” you said from beside Peter on your couch.
“Doesn’t he live in the same building?” The same friend asked.
Peter couldn’t mask the glare he sent his way, luckily, another one of your friends saved him: “it’s getting late,” she said, “we should probably go,” she said to your friend that sat on the other side of the coffee table.
“We aren’t done with the game!” He said, gesturing down to the board game on the table.
You got up with a stretch, and Peter couldn’t help but let his eyes linger at where your shirt rose and showed off a sliver of skin. “We’ll finish up next time,” you said, patting your friend on the back when he pouted up at you.
“It was good to meet you, Peter!” Your friend called from the doorway, “let’s go!” She said to your other friend who was still on the couch.
“Why is he staying?” Your couch-friend whispered like Peter couldn’t hear him.
“He’s tired,” you whispered back, “and the stairs in our building are dangerous.”
“You barely know him,” your friend replied, inching closer to you like he was afraid Peter would hear.
Which, again, he could. A flair of anger pushed Peter up from the couch, his feet moving to stand beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, “it was good to meet you,” he said, looking your friend directly in his eyes before he looked to the doorway, “both of you.”
“Goodnight,” your friend replied, still looking uneasy.
Doorway-friend didn’t respond, instead, she sent a wink your way. At least one of your friends was cool, Peter thought.
“Fuck,” you whispered, moving out of Peter’s grip to go lock the door, “sorry about him,” you said sheepishly as you turned and leaned back against the door, “he can be a little,” you paused, “weird.”
Peter isn’t sure weird is what he’d call it, but he didn’t want to read into something that wasn’t there.
“I liked her,” Peter responded, “I mean them both,” he said with a smile.
You let out a laugh, scrubbing a hand over your face tiredly, “you don’t actually have to spend the night if you don’t want to.”
“So you didn’t just lock me in your apartment?” Peter asked as he stalked closer.
“I can unlock it,” you said, going to turn and place your hand on the knob, but Peter stopped you.
He pushed you back up against the door and moved closer until his lips hovered over yours, “let’s go to bed,” he whispered.
Later, when Peter has you pressed into the bed, full of his cock, he feels himself starting to crack.
He first felt it after he bottomed out. It’s after he’s gotten his arms wrapped around your stomach, his chest pressed to your back. He’s starting to lose track of where he begins and where you end.
Peter’s lost himself in you completely, and now that he’s gotten you back, he is never going to let you go. Even if you have to get to know him again, Peter isn't going to stop until you’re back to what it was like all those years ago.
It’s almost overwhelming, but every touch of Peter’s fingers on your body brings him back. The touch of his fingers around your hips when he finally pulled his cock free, only to thrust right back home, brings him back.
It’s almost overwhelming, but the salty smell of your sweat on Peter’s nose brings him back. The smell gets strong as he dove into the crook of your neck, his tongue running up the path his nose just made.
It’s almost overwhelming, but the taste of you on his tongue brings him back. You both groaned when his tongue ran across your skin. Peter, from the taste, but you from the feel of his cock against your prostate when you pushed back into his thrusts.
It’s almost overwhelming, but the sight of your body laid out on the bed brings him back. Peter could already feel himself close to coming, and not that he didn’t like all views of you, he wanted to see your face when you came.
He pulled out and flipped you over in a dizzying motion and thrust right back inside. It’s almost overwhelming, but the sound of your climax brings him back.
All of his senses are flooded by you, and Peter finishes nearly at the same time as you. He thrusts deep inside, staking his claim with a bite to your neck. He feels sated as he licks the bite over, knowing that the grip he had on your hips would leave a bruise, too. Though he’s unsure if they’d be as noticeable as his teeth marks on your neck.
Peter leaned down to press his lips to yours, drinking in the gasp you let out when his softening cock slipped free, “be right back,” he whispered against your lips.
“Bathroom’s-”
“I got it,” Peter said, “same building, remember?” That’s the excuse he used, even though it wasn’t like the layout of yours was the exact same as Peter’s.
He takes a quick look around your bathroom as he grabs a clean cloth to wipe you down with. He’s tempted to take a peek in the shower to see what scents you used, but he would save that for another time.
Peter returned to find you up against the headboard half asleep, your eyes opening further at the feel of the wet cloth on your skin. He’s careful against your sensitive cock, but stops altogether when he reaches your thighs.
He can’t help himself but to push two fingers back inside your hole, pressing the cum that has leaked free back inside.
You reached down when Peter’s fingers brushed against your prostate, “fuck, Peter,” you said with a breathy laugh as you wrapped your hand around his wrist, “not yet,” you decided, even if your cock gave an interested twitch.
“Sorry,” Peter said, pulling his fingers free slowly, “can’t help myself,” he said under his breath as he got back off the bed. Tossing the soiled cloth away and turning off the light, he joined you back in the bed, this time pulling your body with his underneath the covers.
“We should brush our teeth,” you mumbled, though you made no effort to move, instead, you relaxed into Peter’s chest.
“We’ll brush them an extra time tomorrow,” Peter responded, wrapping himself around you like a cocoon.
I don't think horror is necessarily a kink, but I mainly listed this as a prompt to finish a fic I started in 2024.
Warning for major dubious consent, bottom male reader, brief rough oral, rimming, tentacles, weird tentacle lube slick, size kink, and come inflation.
Like most of the– you weren’t even sure what to call them.
Monsters?
Creatures?
People, that were now destined to a fucked up fate?
You heard them before you saw them. Pyramid Head was the same.
His footsteps were heavy as he came to stand in front of the closet you hid in. He loomed in front of the door, his presence calling all to him as they waited for his next move. The dim light from the flickering bulb cast a light that was blocked by his broad body, which strained your eyes as they watched his every move.
Though you watched with wide eyes, your brain wasn’t fast enough to predict the lightning-fast movement of his bladeless hand as he reached through the door, tearing through it like it was a sheet of paper. You screamed in terror as his hand grabbed your shirt before he pulled you through the open hole.
You’ve observed him from afar, taking note of how human he looked compared to the others. Other than the nurses you had seen stumbling around Brookhaven Hospital, Pyramid Head looked to be relatively human.
Like the nurses, what made him different from a regular human was what was on his head. Not wanting to get close enough to them, it had been difficult to tell what the nurses had on their faces. You hoped it was just a white bandage that they used to cover their faces, but after your last encounter with them, it more so looked like some sort of mask.
With Pyramid Head, though, it had been easier to see the large metal helmet. It nearly made you gag when you first saw it and realized that the splotchy stains were crusted-over blood.
Now up close to the creature, you could smell it. Even if you could see the blood stains, which were now darker and more pronounced up close, the helmet mainly just smelled of rusty metal. If this were to be the last scent to hint at your nose after being caught by the monster, it wasn’t so bad.
The hand in your shirt moved with lightning quick to wrap around your neck, tossing you easily onto the grimy looking mattress in the room. You let out a scream as you sailed through the hair and landed with a pained noise, one of your hands moving to cradle your side.
You coughed as you tried to suck in the air punched from your lungs, each inhale jostling your hurt ribs.
Pyramid Head stood in place, his chest rising and falling at a normal pace, showing no strain after throwing your body. He moved once you looked up at him, like he was waiting, and your eyes were the cue.
He stalked up to the bed slowly, his sword dragging behind him. The light that came into the room was overtaken by his large, hulking figure. He was muscular, but in a way that exuded danger and power. Nothing like the men you had seen before being dragged here.
You moved with each of his steps, pulling yourself up the bed, until your back met the wall with nowhere to go. For a moment, all you could hear was the rattle of Pyramid Head as he breathed underneath the mask.
Your eyes don’t move from the creature, but they do roam over its figure. A dirty apron covered most of its body, littered with dark stains of various sizes. Faded in its grayish white color, it made you wonder just how long he’s been wandering the town.
His skin tone almost matched the apron he wore, making it hard to distinguish where it ended, and where the monster underneath began. The only spots you could explicitly tell were at the start of his forearms, stained in an almost black color. The darkness led to a pair of white gloves, looking like the cleanest thing the man wore.
You jumped when one of the hands loosened, letting the sword fall. It landed with a heavy noise, nearly sounding as if it were going to fall through the floorboards of the dilapidated apartment. Momentarily, your eyes looked at it on the ground, waiting for Pyramid Head to lift it up, but he instead let it sit on the ground beside the bed like a looming threat.
This close, it looked more like a knife than a sword, which combined with his look, made him appear to be a grotesque version of a butcher. Maybe you were just the next cut of meat he was after. Destined to be another stain on his helmet, knife, and body.
Your gaze is pulled off the weapon when Pyramid Head rips the apron off, leaving him in his gloves and boots. Wide-eyed, you turn away from his nearly naked form and bring your knees up to your chest, trying to make yourself appear as small as you can.
Pyramid Head’s breathing grows heavier, filtered through his mask to make a raspy noise that scratches at your ears. You’re easily able to tell what he’s doing, his breathing growing louder each passing minute.
Next, the sound grows slick. It’s wet like the sound you could remember from earlier when you found out this apartment had running water. It sours the memory in your brain, knowing now all you’re going to be able to think about is Pyramid Head, and not the momentary happiness you felt.
You find the courage to look back over after Pyramid Head lets out a long groan. Thinking that he’s finally done, you bite your lip around a whimper when you see the largest cock your eyes have ever laid eyes on.
You tried to move back against a solid wall, hoping it would just swallow you up, but it wouldn’t budge. Pyramid watches your struggle, seemingly waiting for you to tire yourself out.
You pant from the efforts, but stopped once your body was full of dread, knowing that you had nowhere to go. You look up at Pyramid Head with a pleading look, hoping that he would be able to somehow read your mind and learn that you just wanted to be left alone.
You screamed when he leaned down to grab you, yanking your body down the bed towards him. You turn your face up, ready with your mouth open to beg, but Pyramid Head stops you.
Pyramid Head’s cock slid past your lips at a brutal force, stretching your lips wide around its girth. Digging your teeth into his cock only seems to make him harder, the cock throbbing along your tongue in retaliation.
The familiar salty bitterness hits your tongue, making your cock twitch against your wishes. It wasn’t like you found the time to touch yourself while trying to keep yourself alive and escape. Sure, you could multitask, but survival currently felt much more important.
You slam your eyes shut when Pyramid Head pushes his cock deeper, fighting to keep your tears at bay. They spill when his cock pushes against your gag reflex, barely touched by the fat head before it’s set off.
You gasped when the monstrous cock was pulled free, your arms making a valiant effort of holding your body up. You looked up at the hulking man, noticing the way his chest seemed to sync with yours.
“Please,” you said, hardly able to recognize the sound of your voice, “I can’t,” you whispered, flinching when one of the hands in front of you twitched.
Pyramid Head stepped back before kneeling down, his knees hitting the floor with a great thud. At least he was aware of how large he was, making space for himself to not hit you with his helmet. You didn’t even want to imagine the amount of damage it alone would make.
Raspy, metal breathing hits your ears, sounding in time with your own breaths. You don’t know if you've truly synced up, or if Pyramid Head is trying to imitate you, but it does little to calm you down.
Gloved hands settle on your shoulders before pressing you down into the mattress. They move down your body and stop at your hips to repeat the motion.
“I won’t move,” you whispered, a feeling of relief washing over you when his hands pulled away.
Your eyes widened when a tentacle-like tendril slithered out from beneath Pyramid Head’s mask, your breath coming faster and faster as it inched closer. You turn your neck against it, mewling when it touches your skin.
It touches your face first, slithering against your jawbone and leaving behind a thin liquid that quickly cools in the air of the dank bedroom. You close your eyes against the feeling, trying your hardest to not shiver as it moves down your chin.
Almost as if on reflex, you gulp when it meets your Adam’s apple, the tendril tracing the movement. It’s warm, you come to realize, like this… thing is Pyramid Head’s tongue.
Your body inched to move, to fight back, to do something against his tongue, but you were frozen in fear. You gasped when the tongue slithered down the collar of your shirt, leaving a trail past your collarbone until it finally stopped at your nipple.
You jerked your head around to look at the metal helmet in front of you, pleasure curling in your gut as Pyramid Head’s tongue slid over your nipple.
You gasped as it circled your nipple until it hardened into a wet bud, your cock throbbing in your pants from the stimulation.
Pyramid Head matched with a noise of his own, sounding almost human in an odd way that comforted you. He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking along the length to the same rhythm of his tongue.
The creature groaned– a deep noise you swore you could feel in the air. Without thinking, you raised a shaking hand to his chest, feeling the vibrations against your palm as Pyramid Head let out another groan at the touch.
You’re startled when two gloved hands move underneath your shirt, dragging the garment up as they move. They stop underneath your armpits, but when Pyramid Head tugs, you’re raising your arms automatically.
You tell yourself it’s because you don’t want him to tear your clothing, but the way your cock throbs in your pants says otherwise. You let your hands fall back to your sides as Pyramid Head tosses the clothing away, his tongue hovering between you in the air, like he can’t decide where to go with all of the new skin on display.
It decides on the other, dry nipple. It doesn’t have to work in the same way as with the other; the bud hardens almost seconds later. You moan softly at the feeling, your cock hardening in your pants as you watch Pyramid Head wrap a hand around his.
A bead of precum leaks from the head onto the floor, your stomach swooping at the sudden thought of licking it up from the dirty floor. Your cock strains against the fabric, fully hard, envisioning the thought of Pyramid Head coming and shooting ropes of hot cum all over you.
Your head falls back when a rough hand makes its way between your legs to grope at your hard cock. It’s nearly painful, but it has you moaning louder than you should, especially when you didn't know what other dangers could be lurking outside the door.
The tongue against skin zipped up, making its way into your mouth before you could even think of pushing it away. Your eyes widen against the intrusion, the wet appendage mapping out the unknown plane that is your mouth.
It swipes against the tip of your tongue, Pyramid Head’s hand moving to your neck to hold you in place. You respond weakly against it, a noise sounding as close as Pyramid Head could muster to a moan, leaving his helmet when you rub your tongue along his.
Gloved hands move to your hips, tearing away at your pants and underwear, the complete opposite of how he treated getting your shirt off. It terrified you knowing that he was now eager to get his cock back inside you, but a small part of you now ached for it.
You could taste it along your tongue when Pyramid Head’s tongue pulled free from your mouth, leaving that same ache that all you could do was swallow down. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, the need for it growing until it took you over completely and changed you.
“What’re you doing to me?” You questioned as Pyramid Head pushed you down onto the mattress.
He, of course, didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed your ankles and lifted them towards your chest. They settled around the back of your knees, giving a soft squeeze, just like earlier.
Your breathing quickened, not knowing how your body would be able to take something so large. Though it seemed in the way Pyramid Head held you down, he wouldn’t be giving you a choice.
You let out a sob at the first touch to your hole, your body relaxing upon realizing it’s Pyramid Head’s tongue.
Like with your nipples, the tongue circles your hole. You can’t tell if he was trying to tease you or if he was simply getting a taste. All you’ve known of Pyramid Head was brute force, so you couldn’t imagine him trying to tease.
You moan when his tongue pushes inside. Thicker than two of Pyramid Head’s fingers, you expected it to hurt, but the wetness of it only sent sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
Your back arches from the bed when it hits your prostate, your cock dribbling precome against your stomach. The moans you let out only seem to encourage Pyramid Head, his tongue moving deeper and deeper.
The tongue throbs like a cock inside you, and that’s when you feel that it’s pumping you full of something. You squirm against it, Pyramid Head’s hands tightening around your knees to keep you in place.
His tongue is pulled free with a wet noise, sending a rush of heat through your body at the sound. Your body feels loose and pliant, a slick sensation dripping down your hole.
Pyramid Head pulled you to the edge of the bed, right into his knees, the head of his cock resting on your hole. It slipped along your hole when he tried to thrust inside, but when he eventually got it, you nearly came.
He gave you no time to adjust, but it wasn’t like you needed it. Pyramid Head’s cock went deeper than his tongue, pushing slick deeper with each thrust.
You placed a hand on your stomach, right above where your cock lay neglected. Feeling Pyramid Head’s cock under your fingers, you came to the feeling. Waves of euphoria washed over you, knowing that Pyramid Head was carving out his spot within you, that you would never spend another second alone in Silent Hill.
You pushed through your post-orgasm haze to press your hand to Pyramid Head’s chest. Underneath your fingers, you felt his heart beating wildly. Wet hot tears leaked from your eyes feeling the organ under his skin, the first feeling of another human you’ve experienced in what seemed like forever.
Pyramid Head comes with a loud, metallic grumble, deep from his chest. His cock pumps you with a copious amount of cum, the fullest you’ve felt in the longest time. The tongue from earlier lolled out, licking up your chest lazily.
A low grumble left Pyramid Head’s helmet, satisfied at the taste as his cock continued to throb. His hips twitched through the aftershocks when you felt it beginning to soften.
A whimper fell from your lips when Pyramid Head’s cock slipped free, a gush of cum and slick following. The ache you had felt since you were put in this place was gone, replaced with a deep sense of satisfaction.
Pyramid let out a hum before he stood up, gathering his discarded apron with him. He pulled it back on with a silent finesse, not at all matching his monstrous look. Next, he grabbed his knife before walking to the door.
“Are you waiting for me?” You asked, using all your effort to sit up against the wall.
Pyramid Head opened the door as an answer, waiting in the doorway expectantly.
E and F: Experience and First Time- Aerion Targaryen
1.3k words
Reader is a courtesan, and Aerion is his client for the night.
Warning for bottom male reader, praise kink, and first times. It isn't Aerion's first time in general, but it is his first time with a man.
I've only seen A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, so sorry for any inaccuracies with Aerion's character.
“Not that this doesn’t,” you let out a grunt more of pain than of pleasure, “feel good, my prince,” you said, hesitating to use the words. The occasional brush to your prostate by the Aerion’s hard cock certainly felt good, but that was far and few between, especially with such a brutal pace. “But-”
An arm locks around your neck, “but what?” He breathes into your ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin, “but what?” He questions louder, his pace slowing momentarily.
You couldn’t tell if he’s slowly starting to pick it up, or if he’s already tired himself out, but your skin is thanking him for it. The arm around your neck tightens as Aerion pants into your ear, still waiting on your answer.
“Perhaps we could switch positions?” You ask. His pillows did look quite comfortable.
Aerion pulls out with a scoff, “am I not satisfying you?” He questions mockingly.
Not really.
You tread carefully in finding your answer, knowing that you’ve struck a nerve. Many of the men you’ve slept with in the past could be like that for various reasons. Whether that be insecurity, guilt, or post-clarity rage.
“You are!” You reply quickly, turning to face Aerion to send him a reassuring smile. You let out a sigh, hoping that he wouldn’t be too angry, “but-”
“But what?” Aerion sneers, interrupting you once more, “I did not call on your services to be mocked,” he said, turning his chin up.
“Of course, Prince Aerion. But please believe,” you laid a hand on your naked chest, “that is not my intention. It would just be more enjoyable for both of us-”
“Why should I care about the pleasure of a common whore?” Aerion questions with a sardonic laugh.
The smile on your face grows smaller and into more of a grimace before you correct it, “I suppose you are right,” you say softly. The words aren’t anything you haven’t heard before, but it is particularly insulting to have them thrown at you for simply trying to help.
You glance over at Aerion, noticing the way his cock is still hard, though yours had flagged when he yelled at you. Perhaps it is what he is into. Another small piece of information you would learn about your clients when you lay with them.
You knew how this would go, however, when you started to turn back around to get back on your stomach, soft words stopped you in your tracks.
“What would you have me do?” Aerion asks, a blush on his cheeks as he looks anywhere but your face.
“Perhaps we could go slower,” you answer, edging closer to him, “work our way to your previous pace?” You ask, now close enough for his hard cock to poke wetly at your stomach.
Aerion looks down at where it touches your skin before looking back up, “very well,” he answers quietly.
You raise a hand to his face slowly, “may I kiss you?” You whisper, cupping his cheek. You trace your fingers along the blush, watching as the shade grows darker.
Aerion’s eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth, “you may,” he answers.
You begin with a soft brush of your lips, but soon, Aerion’s hands rise to your face and turns the kiss sloppy.
You force yourself away from the kiss, your cock twitching when Aerion’s eyes open and he fixes you with a confused expression, obviously not done and wanting more. “Have you done this before?” You questioned softly.
Aerion’s face hardens before he inches further back, “of course I have!”
“With a man?” You clarify.
“No,” Aerion responds, his chin jutting out.
“I liked to be kissed in the same way the maidens you have laid with do,” you said with a smile, laying a hand on his arm.
Aerion smirks at that and turns fully towards you. A runs a hand down your body before wrapping his fingers around the base of your cock, “you are no maiden,” he says softly, giving your hardening cock a slow stroke.
“You do not have to treat me differently because I am not,” you respond, moving into Aerion’s grip. You duck away when Aerion tries to get your lips together again, “you needn’t be so rough,” you whisper against his mouth teasingly.
The next kiss is much better and leaves you gasping on its end.
“You have truly never done this before?” You asked, guiding Aerion with your hands around his hips to the pile of pillows at the top of the bed.
“I told you already,” Aerion responds, pulling you down by the nape into another kiss.
“Let me take care of you, my prince,” you said after pulling away from the kiss. You shifted back to feel Aerion’s cock grind against the cleft of your ass, Aerion’s hands moving to your ass cheeks to spread you open so it lay against your hole.
Aerion looks up at you and his mouth opens like he’s about to speak, but instead, he nods and leans up for another.
You feel Aerion’s tongue in your mouth as you reach behind your body and steady his cock. The kiss breaks when you sink down his cock, but you stay close, breathing in each other’s air.
You feel Aerion’s hands roam your lower back as you adjust once more to his cock. It feels deeper than earlier, but still not stimulating your prostate like you wanted. But that was something that you could work on.
Your hands find Aerion’s toned chest, fingers digging into his pecs as you push yourself up. You lift yourself slowly from his cock until only the head remains, and then you let gravity do the rest.
Aerion’s hands settle loosely around your hips, a look of anticipation on his face. Waiting for your next move.
You shift around on his lap, trying to find that spot. When you feel Aerion’s cock finally brush that spot, you rise up once more.
You fall back down with a soft moan, Aerion’s hands tightening around your hips.
“There?” He asks breathlessly.
“There,” you respond, letting out another moan. The next time you move back up, Aerion pulls you back down, “right there!” You all but yell
Aerion responds enthusiastically, eyes moving from your face to watch your body move. His hands are like an anchor around your hips, holding you in place as he fucks back up every time you raise your hips.
He shifts closer as he moves, bringing his back off the bed to get close enough to kiss you. You moan into his mouth, feeling your edge approaching as Aerion’s tongue maps out the plane of your mouth.
Aerion knocks the hand you try to wrap around your cock away, his lips dragging along your jaw. “Let me take care of you,” he whispers into your ear, stroking his hand along your cock in time with his thrusts.
You cup Aerion’s face and turn his head to meet your eye, “my good lad,” you whisper, “making me feel so good.”
Aerion’s eyes widen before his hands move to bring your bodies flush together. He comes with a loud moan, his cock throbbing deep within you. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, like he’s afraid to show himself as vulnerable.
You come seconds later from the friction of your cock against Aerion’s abs, stars exploding behind your eyes.
Coming down from your orgasm, you bring a hand to the back of Aerion’s hand to run your fingers through his white hair. He falls deeper into your arms as his breathing begins to calm.
Aerion pulls away when his cock slips free, moving away just enough to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “Have I satisfied you now?” He questions.
You smile softly at him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in.
D: Dirty Talk and Yearning- Mark Grayson and Thragg (but Thragg is separate)
3.4k words
I'm gonna be honest, this doesn't really have any dirty talk, but it has yearning.
Heavy warning for dubious consent. The reader is put into a political marriage with Thragg, but is already in a relationship with Mark. Thragg then forces Mark and the reader to have sex while he watches.
Other warning for virgin reader and Mark, bottom male reader felching, and overstimulation (Thragg makes the reader pass out).
Not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes, I was writing this at work lol.
Growing up, you had spent many summers in the kingdom of Vultrum during the alliance of your kingdom with theirs. However, you and you were sure most of the people could tell that the alliance was one out of domination and fear.
When news broke that Viltrum’s ruler, Lord Argall, was assassinated, your kingdom attempted to close itself off, hoping that the kingdom’s domination over the land it governed would come to an end.
You first heard the news from Mark Grayson, a knight of Vultrum’s military. Growing up, you had always had small little fantasies shared between the two of you of plans to leave and explore the world.
As you grew older and into adulthood, those fantasies became more and more realistic each passing year. It terrified a small part of you to think about leaving the world you had spent your entire life in and leaving the outside world, but Mark was always the one who thought to guide your mind away from that darkness.
A nervous kiss shared as young adults had changed the entire trajectory of your relationship. You had always had thoughts before you convinced yourself otherwise, but now, you were saving for a future with Mark.
You had never discussed your plans in the letters you exchanged between each other, both fearful of how traceable they were. Instead, you saved talks for that during the moments you got to spend together in person.
That had all changed after Lord Argall’s assassination. In the second letter you had received from Mark, he ended it unlike any of the previous: the time is now.
Unbeknownst to you, what Mark had ended his letter with was already in preparation by an outside force closer than you would expect.
Thragg was a man you had met years ago in passing, but still managed to make you nervous, even by the mere mention of his name. He was a cold and calculating man, but what made you so apprehensive of the man was how calm he managed to be earlier.
Even now, as he kneeled in your father’s throne room. You had never thought you’d see a day when you’d see a Viltrumite on his knees. It almost made you feel better when what came out of Thragg’s mouth was threats, not to grovel for help.
“We are in a weakened state,” he looked up for the first time after he walked in earlier with his eyes trained to the floor, “but we can still destroy you,” he said, looking from your father to your mother and then back again.
“Did you come here to threaten us?” Your father asked, holding a hand up to calm the guardsmen through the room to remove their hands from their weapons.
Thragg looked down once more, “no, my king,” he bit out, like the words pained him to say, “I am here to ask for your son’s hand in marriage,” he said, looking up and setting his gaze on you.
As gasps and murmurs erupted around the room, your father threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. “I’m glad you can still manage humor in times of such hardship,” he said, holding up a hand to quiet the room.
“Humor is not my intention,” Thragg responded, looking at your father. You let out a sigh of relief once his eyes were off you. “We cannot afford to show weakness during this time. This marriage alliance will show that.”
“I have heard rumors of a civil war on the horizon in your kingdom, and you want my son to be in the middle of that?” Your father asked.
“Those who spoke of that have been,” Thragg paused, “purged,” he spits, “from my kingdom.” He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “no harm would come to your son,” he declares earnestly,” his eyes looking once more in your direction, “and if, after we’ve rebuilt, our marriage may end peacefully.”
“How much time do you anticipate this will take?” your mother asked, sitting beside your father in a matching throne.
“You’re really considering this?” You leaned down to whisper from your spot behind them.
“No longer than five years,” Thragg responded.
His words were like an unwritten contract because weeks later, you had arrived in Viltrum. Like how everything recently in your life felt out of your control, your wedding date was set without your input. But now that you thought about it, finally having a moment alone to yourself in what now was your bedroom, it was probably thought of before Thragg even arrived at your old kingdom.
Still, weeks from that time, you were unsure whether to be angry at your parents or not. You knew that ruling a kingdom meant making tough choices, but it was still hard to face the fact you wouldn’t be going home for five years.
It scared you even more to think about how, in those five years, your time here could become permanent.
Lost in thought and on the brink of freaking out, your racing mind is interrupted by your door opening.
You stand at the edge of the bed, practically falling into Mark’s arms when he gets close enough.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he breathed, his arms wrapped securely around you.
“Me neither,” you whisper. You pressed your face into his neck, feeling as if, for the first time in weeks, you could finally breathe.
Mark pulled away, his armor cool as it brushed your skin when he cupped your jaw, “I can’t believe you're here,” he repeated before he leaned in to brush his lips against yours.
“The thought of Thragg being able to kiss you–”
You interrupted Mark with another kiss, “let’s not,” you let out a heavy sigh, “talk about that.”
The time you do actually talk about it is days after the wedding, long after the visitors from your home kingdom had left.
“We’ll see you soon,” your mother and father had said, sounding a lot like they were still convincing themselves.
“What was it like?” Mark whispered, his hand trailing up and down your back. You were in a secluded, grassy area of the kingdom, one that Mark had told you he spent time writing his letters to you in.
You craned your neck to look at him, your ear dragging along the soft white suit he wore under his armor, “what was what like?”
Mark grimaced, “kissing him.”
“Rough,” you answered. It had been quick and chaste. You weren’t even really sure you could count it as a kiss with how precise and measured it was. “The mustache made it weird,” you said, trying to make Mark smile.
“So I shouldn’t grow mine?” He questioned, trying to keep a straight face, but broke out into a grin when you laughed. He brought a hand to his face and rubbed the smooth, hairless skin above his upper lip, “I’m not quite there yet.”
“Is it required in your service?” You asked, thinking back to all of the men you’ve seen in the kingdom, and how most of them have had mustaches.
“It’s our culture,” Mark answered.
“Will I have to grow one and become fully assimilated?” You asked.
Mark laughed softly. “I don’t think so.” he let out a sigh before his arm tightened around your body. “You’d probably have to ask him,” he said.
You leaned up against Mark’s embrace until it loosened and moved forward to kiss the frown from his face.
“I’ll get better,” Mark said, a fire behind his eyes, “I’ll get stronger. Then, we can leave this all behind,” he said, moving closer into another kiss.
You didn’t see Mark again for a few days and tried your best not to be worried, or at least let it show on your face.
However, Thragg could see right through it all. You could tell from the way he looked at you.
“I wish to speak with you in my chambers tonight,” he said as he exited the large dining room in the fortress you still got lost in. He leaned down and spoke the words right in your ear, one of his hands pressed to your shoulder.
You nodded stiffly, “see you then,” you responded as you set your utensils down, suddenly not feeling hungry.
Thragg leaned away and stood tall, “enjoy your dinner,” he said, the hand from your shoulder moving to your nape and giving it a light squeeze.
You tried to smile at him, but all it felt like was a grimace. Not even knowing that he had already walked away, one of the cooks had walked in to clear Thragg’s place at the table.
“Was it not good?” The cook asked.
You quickly wiped away the look from your face with a napkin, “it was great,” you answered, “I’m still trying to get used to how filling the food is here,” you finished, trying to smile once more, and feeling much more successful.
Only a door separated the two rooms, but when you met him later that night, it was your first time in Thragg’s bedroom.
It looked similar to yours in the same way that all of the rooms did: white, grey, and sterile. Though there were pops of red in the room that matched the color of the outfit you saw him wear nearly daily.
Sitting on top of the red blanket that covered Thragg’s large bed was Mark, looking so tensed up he was about to crack like a stone.
“Stay there,” Thragg commanded, your blood running cold. From his place sitting in a red chair close to the bed, he turned to look at Mark, “Mark, when I went to his kingdom, I told the king and queen that any talk of incivility had been purged from our kingdom. Would you agree with that?”
“Yes, grand regent,” Mark responded quietly, eyes glued to the bed.
“So why is it that one of my knights is speaking about leaving the kingdom?” He asked, “with my husband?”
“Five years is a long time,” Mark responded, “we’ve had these plans for years.”
Thragg shot up from his chair, “it only took a day for Emperor Argall to die!” He yelled, making you and Mark flinch. Thragg let out a heavy sigh before he continued, “that won’t do, Mark.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Mark pleaded.
Thragg let out another sigh, “take your clothes off.”
You and Mark exchanged a look, “what?” You croaked.
“You’re not leaving,” Thragg said as he stepped closer to you, “Do I have to rip them off?”
With your heart hammering in your chest, you slowly began pulling your clothes off under Mark and Thragg’s gaze.
“Mark,” Thragg said after moments of Mark just sitting there, watching. He held out a hand, carefully folding your clothing and placing it on a desk in front of his window.
You broke the uncomfortable silence first: “what now?” You whispered as you tried to cover yourself.
“Sit,” Thragg commanded.
You longed to reach out to Mark and try what you could to comfort him, but you sat locked in place, waiting for Thragg to continue.
“You’re not leaving,” Thragg repeated as he sat back down in the chair, “but I will allow you to be together under my eye.”
“I don’t understand,” you said. Mark had slowly shifted closer, one of his hands finding yours to clutch.
Thragg lets out a soft chuckle, “I suppose this would be confusing with how many words there are for it across all kingdoms and cultures.”
A cold chill runs through your body as your eyes widen. Mark’s hand in yours tightens to the point it nearly hurts, but he lets go to turn you towards him.
“Just pretend like he isn’t there,” Mark whispers softly, his breath fanning out to hit your face.
You try to turn to look at Thragg’s, but Mark’s hand comes up to stop you and turn you back. Your head jerks with a stiff nod, and Mark’s hands move to cup your cheeks to pull you in.
Mark kisses you until your brain fogs out, only remembering that you’re with company when Thragg tosses a bottle of lube onto the bed near your body.
“You might need this,” he murmured, like he was trying to not interrupt the two of you, “but with how wet you both are, you might not,” he says to himself, causing you to look down.
Your hard cocks rub against each other on each movement, smearing precome along your skin. You try to bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sensation, but Mark whines softly in protest.
“Let me hear,” he whispers, grinding his hips into yours.
You wrapped your arms around Mark’s waist to get more of that delicious friction. Even when it missed, your cock rubbed against Mark’s hard abs, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.
Mark’s hands moved to your hips, rocking with your movements. You realized only then how close you were, only taking a few more jerks of your hips to come. Mark joined over the edge soon thereafter, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he came.
“Is it always that quick?” Thragg questioned, breaking the silence, sounding as if he was seconds away from laughing.
Mark hesitated before he answered, “we’ve never,” he trails off.
“Together?” Thragg questioned, sounding surprised, “or at all?”
“Both,” Mark answered tersely, his hands tightening around your body possessively.
“Keep going,” Thragg commanded, his voice gravelly.
You lay back on Thragg’s bed with a soft grunt, Mark kneeling in the space between your legs. He looked apprehensive, not that you could blame him. You reached a hand toward his, covering his hand that held the lube in a tight grip.
You pressed kisses to his lips, then to his face until you felt his hand starting to relax. “I can–” you began to say, but Mark interrupted, pressing his lips to yours.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, popping the cap.
Smiling softly at him, you pressed one last kiss to his lips before you lay back onto the bed. You itched to look over at Thragg, noticing he had gone quiet.
You brought your knees up, giving Mark ample room to work a finger inside. He didn’t for a while, instead tracing it around the rim of your hole, but you couldn’t tell if it was to tease or due to the nerves of being watched.
You gasped when Mark pressed it inside, slowly until it was deep inside. He moved closer until he could lean in close.
Instead of kissing you, Mark leaned down, his forehead pressed to yours. He breathed in your gasps as a second finger joined the first, your cock slowly growing hard again.
You’ve been trying to keep quiet and only let Mark hear your noises, like they were meant for his ears only, but when his fingers pressed into your prostate, the noise you let out was out of your control.
“Fuck,” Mark whispered, his fingers pulling free before he thrust them slowly back inside. “You like that?”
You nodded, “more,” you said quietly, your lips brushing against Mark’s.
You groaned at the feel of a third finger in your hole, your cock hard against your stomach as his fingers brushed your prostate.
You whimpered when Mark pulled his fingers free, only to be replaced with the blunt head of his cock.
Mark adjusted your right leg to lift it on his broad shoulder, the other he let dangle, held up with his forearm. He ran a hand momentarily down your sweaty thigh before his hands moved to your hips.
You moaned softly as Mark thrust slowly inside, until he bottomed out and his hips pressed to your ass.
Mark panted in front of you, sweat dripping down his temple. He ran his hands slowly up your body, pulling your attention onto his face.
You nodded at Mark, letting him know that you were ready for anything he gave you.
Mark’s hand moved back to your hips, gripping your body tightly as he pulled all the way out. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your hole gaping as you clenched around nothing. Mark’s cock punched a moan from your chest, the head brushing against your prostate as Mark’s bottomed out once more.
Mark leaned down as his pace increased, his body curled protectively over you like he was trying to shield you from Thragg’s gaze. Not that you thought you’d last much longer, already feeling another orgasm building.
You wrapped a hand around your slick cock, stroking in time to the pace of Mark’s hips.
You were once quiet, but now the slap of your skin coming together echoed throughout the room, louder than the moans that fell from your lips. Your back arched off the bed, clenching down on Mark’s cock as his thrusts turned disjointed.
Mark came as your hole clenched around his cock, milking him dry as he thrust deep and stayed there.
You wrapped your hands around Mark’s shoulders, pulling him down to your chest as his cock throbbed deep inside. He panted against your chest as his cock began to soften, his cum leaking from around it.
You grunted softly when his soft cock finally slipped free, Mark pressing a soft kiss to your skin in apology.
It startled you when Thragg made his presence known once again, his footfalls heavy as he went to his desk.
“Time to go, Mark,” Thragg said, picking Mark’s clothing up.
Mark pulled away, looking as if he wanted to protest, but stopped in his tracks when Thragg turned around and noticed the bulge between his legs.
Thragg laid his clothing out on an empty spot on the bed before he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching and waiting for Mark to disobey.
Mark got dressed and reluctantly left, but not before he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips.
Thragg chuckled softly at the display, looking otherwise unbothered, if not amused.
“You’re a mess,” he said softly as he ran a hand across his bulge. He stepped to the edge of the bed and ran a hand softly down the skin he could reach, “what am I going to do with you?”
His words made you nervous, but you were too fucked out to put up a fight as he rolled you onto your stomach.
The bed shifted until Thragg’s weight, his hands moving to your ass cheeks to spread you open. He tsk’d softly as he watched Mark’s spend drip from your hole, his hands kneading the globes of your ass.
You groaned at the pain, trying to shift away, but Thragg moved with you.
Your mouth fell open with a gasp as the broad swipe Thragg’s tongue swiped across your hole. You sobbed at the next swipe, overstimulation bearing its ugly head when Thragg stabbed the tip of his tongue inside.
“Please,” you begged when Thragg rolled you over. Your eyes slipped shut when Thragg got off the bed, thinking he was actually going to listen to you, but soon the bed dipped once more under his weight.
You opened your eyes at the feel of Thragg’s hand on your face, “you could topple this entire kingdom down,” Thragg murmured, running his fingers softly down your cheek, “and you don’t even know it.”
The fat head of his cock pressed to your hole, your cock twitching treacherously. Your body was pliant for Thragg, legs wrapping loosely around his hips.
He leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth, softer than the one on your wedding day, making your stomach clench.
“My husband,” Thragg whispered in your ear, giving no warning as he thrust his cock inside.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream before your eyes rolled back. You blacked out seconds later, the sound of Thragg’s deep voice ringing through your mind before unconsciousness took you.
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You could tell what Ryland wanted, even when he protested, “we’re barely through the door,” he whispered, like he was afraid of being caught in your own house.
You looked up at Ryland from on your knees, “you were feeling me up on the whole drive home,” you said as you unzipped his fly slowly.
“Feeling you up?” Ryland sputtered, “my hand was on your knee!”
You let out a soft laugh, “that’s not what I felt,” you said as you worked open his belt.
Ryland huffed, “can we at least go to the bed or couch?” he whined. “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”
You let out another laugh, “you say that like you’re as old as the solar system you teach about,” you replied.
“I feel like it! Especially after being on my feet all day,” He grumbled.
“We’ll have to build your stamina,” you said, sending Ryland a wink before you pulled his hard cock out.
You must’ve jinxed it. You had said it as a joke, of course, but it was like Ryland was getting payback when he came.
You didn’t know how long it had been, the only thing you knew was the ropes of cum hitting your face.
You gasped when it started, and quickly closed your eyes to avoid the burn.
“Holy–” Ryland gasps, “I’m so–” he tried speaking once more, but his words were interrupted by a moan.
Ryland was sorry, but you were trying your damndest to not press the heel of your palm to your cock, trapped in your pants.
You felt Ryland leave moments later with a gust of air, and the faint sound of his belt buckle jingling as he moved.
After what felt like minutes of being alone, you’re tempted to just wipe it away with the back of your hand, but you’re stopped upon hearing the sound of a camera shutter.
“Fu–”
“What was that?” You asked.
“Nothing!” Ryland answered, far too quickly to indeed be nothing.
“Did you just–” a warm cloth swiped across your face, interrupting your words, “stop that!” You hissed after another pass. “Did you just take a photo?”
From how red Ryland’s face was, it seemed like he, in fact, did.
“I didn’t know how,” he paused, trying to find the words, seemingly embarrassed, “into that I now know I am,” he whispered.
“Oh,” you responded softly, your cock throbbing in your slacks, “do you knees still hurt?” You asked as you looked him over as he stood there, his pants still open.
“No,” Ryland responded, his brows downturned in confusion.
“Let’s go to bed,” you nodded towards your bedroom.
Ryland gave a slow nod, like his post-orgasm brain was still trying to catch up, “bedroom,” he said, turning in the direction. “Let’s go do that,” he said as he walked away, leaving you in the entryway.
You laughed to yourself as you pushed yourself off the floor, “it’s okay,” you said when Ryland jogged back, “I’ve got it.”
“Sorry,” Ryland said sheepishly, “I can carry you,” he said, almost sounding like a question and not a statement.
2.5k words. 2.5k isn't that long, but I'm trying to keep these relatively short, and I'm already struggling lol.
Warning for angst with a happy ending, breeding kink, a touch of irrational jealousy, and possessive behavior.
The day Princess Izumi was born was one of the most joyous days you had seen since the Hundred Year War ended. Though it was a day of great excitement, it was still shrouded in secrecy.
You never had outright asked Zuko who Izumi’s mother was, and you were always too busy as his retainer to do any sleuthing of your own. Rumors had swirled around longer than you could keep up with, always taking each and every one that you heard with a grain of salt.
You had your own guesses and theories, but really, you were just happy to see Zuko happy.
Weeks later, when the palace had finally begun to calm after Izumi’s arrival, Zuko made a familiar move.
You had worried at first when you turned around to find Zuko standing so close, but quickly decided to pay no mind to it. “Am I extinguishing too many candles?” You asked, trying to deflect the concern that you felt still lingered with a tight laugh. You knew how Zuko liked reading official documents before bed, even if it irritated you.
“Zuko?” You had asked after finding him half asleep at the desk in his chambers, “why are you still awake?” You asked, helping him up from his chair.
“I wanted a bedtime story,” he answered tiredly.
“You should have told me!” You replied, trying and failing to keep your anger in check, “instead, you are sitting here putting an ache in your back,” you said, getting an arm around his shoulders.
Zuko lets out a laugh, “a small ache has never held me back before,” he said, letting himself be led to bed.
“You snapped at me when I tried to help you put in your royal headpiece,” you grumbled under your breath as you turned down the cover.
“I said I was sorry!” Zuko replied with a laugh, “besides, you were yanking my hair.”
You looked down at your hands after pulling the covers up after Zuko had gotten in, “I suppose,” you let out a soft sigh, “I could be more careful.”
Zuko pulled one of his hands from under the blanket, “I forgive you,” he said, gripping your hand. You both let out a laugh after you rolled your eyes, “now,” he began, a smile lighting up his face, “I was promised a bedtime story.”
“Zuko?” You questioned as the man stepped closer, “are you feeling–”
Your question was cut short as Zuko manhandled you onto his bed, his legs moving into the space between yours, which hung off the edge.
It had felt like years since Zuko had last kissed you. It wasn’t like you were jealous, you knew Zuko needed an heir, and knew that you couldn’t give him one. But that didn’t stop him from trying.
You had just thought of it as a form of stress relief, but Zuko seemingly had a different idea.
“One isn’t enough,” Zuko breathed after he pulled away from the kiss, warm fingers sneaking under your clothing.
“Zuko,” you breathed, “I can’t,” you whispered, even as you craned your neck as his lips trailed down your skin. You could feel excitement, just as much as you felt apprehension, knowing exactly how long it’s been since you laid with Zuko.
He had been rough the last time, obviously frustrated that it wasn’t… taking. You could feel the stares from other members in the council room when you arrived the next day, trying your best to hide the marks Zuko left with your collar. It made you wonder if you could find a water bender to heal the bruises away.
“I’ll take my time,” Zuko replied, before he stepped away to grab that familiar container. You weren’t jealous, you told yourself as you tried to look into the container to see if there was less in there. To see if Zuko shared what he used on you with Izumi’s mother.
Upon his return, Zuko swooped down into another kiss as he wrestled your clothing off, throwing the garments away like they personally offended him.
“You’ll be with my child,” Zuko declared, “tonight.” He yanked at his robes, your hands, on instinct, moved to help.
“Let me,” you said, “you’ll burn another pair.”
Zuko huffed out a laugh, his golden eyes watched your hands move without thought, “you are excellent with your hands,” he observed softly.
You looked up, eyes locked with Zuko’s golden ones, “that is because I am your retainer, my lord,” you whispered. Your hands hovered between your bodies when Zuko’s robe was out of the way, fingers just shy of his waistband.
You looked away and moved up the bed. A place you’ve cleaned and made up countless times, but have not rested upon in months.
Zuko crawled slowly after you, like a dragon hunting its prey. Only for a moment were you closed off, but then, at the feel of Zuko’s warm fingers on your ankles, your legs were spreading for him.
Two fingers closed around your chin to turn your head up so he could look you in the eye, they then moved to cup your cheek, making it so you couldn’t turn away.
“You think you’re just a royal retainer to me?” He asked, not even giving you a chance to answer as he claimed your mouth in a soft kiss, “you are the most beautiful man I know,” he said against your mouth.
“Zuko,” you said as you turned your head as much as you could out of the next kiss he tried to initiate. You struggled in holding back a shiver when Zuko’s lips trailed across your jaw, “it’s not poss–”
You were interrupted by Zuko’s lips against yours, and when you tried to finish your sentence, Zuko only saw that as an invitation to deepen the kiss.
“Much crazier things have happened,” Zuko said with a laugh as he pulled away and stood up from the bed. Even if you had just tried to talk him out of it, you still missed his warmth. “I took down the Fire Lord and ascended the throne as a teenager,” he said as he removed his crown.
Back in its protective casing, your mind went back to one of the many times he left it on. In fact, nearly all of his clothing had stayed on, but was instead opened enough to get his hard cock out. You had ridden him that day, right there on his throne, Zuko muttering sweet nothings in your ear about how this time it would take.
“Perhaps you are right,” you said once it was over, Zuko cock still softening inside you.
“Perhaps you are right,” you repeated, your cock throbbing at the thought of the smile on Zuko’s face that day and the feel of his hand on your stomach.
It startled you when a flash of orange lit up your vision, the room left much brighter, but once you realized what it was, all you felt was annoyance.
“I just put those out,” you said, hoping Zuko could see your eye roll even with his back turned. You couldn’t help but reach a hand between your legs to wrap your fingers around your cock as you watched Zuko get the rest of his clothing off.
“I needed to see you better,” Zuko replied.
Need. You had to bite your lip to hold back the sound you wanted to let out.
“You must fold those,” you said, after you watched Zuko toss them carelessly. You and everyone else in the palace made sure Zuko’s room was spotless, but that didn’t mean you wanted to let his clothing end up on the floor, even if there was no dust or debris to stain them.
Zuko whipped around in all of his naked glory, his hair a dark veil that swooshed with the movement, “I must?” He questioned as he stepped up to the bed, “I must?” He repeated, grabbing your ankles when close enough.
You yelped when he yanked you down the bed, Zuko’s hands moving to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, “that isn’t what I meant.”
“Oh?” Zuko purred, “I think it’s exactly what you meant,” he said before he moved down to press his lips to yours.
“I’m sorry,” you tried once more. You didn’t actually think Zuko was angry, if the hard cock poking you was anything to go off of, but it never hurt to apologize.
“Enough of that,” Zuko commanded, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your mouth, “you challenge me,” he said, making his way down to nip at the skin of your neck, “make me a better man,” he whispered into your ear.
“All I said was to fold your clothes,” you replied, feeling confused.
“Must I repeat myself?” Zuko questioned, his forehead pressed to yours.
You gasped when a wet finger traced the edge of your hole– when had he?
“Been a while,” Zuko said, an edge of sadness to his words, “has anyone?” He trailed off.
“What?” You questioned incredulously, “my lord,” you gasped, “there’s been no one.”
Zuko pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue moving past your lips as his finger pressed inside, “good,” he whispered, “you’re mine.”
Barely able to adjust to the first, a second joined, “Zuko,” you whined, the name sounding foreign on your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you said his name, instead choosing to use the common honorifics said around the palace.
Devastation wasn’t the right word. It was only realistic that Zuko would want an heir. You could remember that night easily. Rejection. That was it.
“Am I to stay with you tonight, Lord Zuko?” You had asked.
“No,” Zuko answered, not looking up from the scroll he was reading, “your services, in that regard, are no longer necessary.”
“Ah,” was all you could muster while you felt as if a bucket of cold water from the Northern Water Tribe had been poured on top of you, “very well, Zu– my lord.”
That caused Zuko to look up, but you were already out the door, not wanting to see the look on his face.
What burn you felt from Zuko’s eager fingers was soon overtaken by pleasure. Even after all this time, Zuko was still able to expertly find your prostate. He pulled you into a wet kiss, swallowing your moans as he spread his fingers, preparing you for his leaking cock smearing precum against your thigh.
You pushed at Zuko’s chest, sucking in air through your nose as you tried to breathe, the pleasure overwhelming you.
“Breathe,” Zuko commanded softly, his voice sounded far away, like it was in the back of your mind. “Breathed,” he tried again.
Upon taking a deep breath in, you felt like you were back in your body, a slow, steady hum of pleasure still thrumming through your veins. Lifting your head up felt like it took all the effort in the world, and when you did, all you could see was the lack of space between you and Zuko’s body.
You gave an experimental clench down and groaned when you felt Zuko’s cock deep within you. “Oh,” you mumbled, and ran a hand down your chest, a mess of come and sweat on your fingers when you pulled away.
Your heart rattled in your chest when Zuko reached out and wrapped a hand around your wrist. You gasped when he guided your hand to his mouth, his wet, warm tongue poking past his lips. You felt your cock give a valiant twitch when your fingers were sucked into the wet heat of Zuko’s mouth, the man groaning around the digits.
Letting gravity do the work once he let go, your fingers fell free from Zuko’s lips with a slick noise, his hands finding purchase on your hips, “back with me?” He asked, running his hands soothingly up and down your sides.
“Yeah,” you croaked, “I don’t know what that was,” you said, looking down at your body. You looked back up at Zuko, noticing a glint of concern in his eyes. “It was,” you clenched down on Zuko’s cock, “intense.”
Zuko moaned, his hips twitching forward, even if he had barely anywhere to go. He moved his hands to your thighs, running his fingers across the skin until you relaxed. He lifted one leg to his shoulder, his lips brushing the thin skin of your ankle. Next, the other, and then, Zuko nearly had you bent in half.
Zuko’s knees rested on either side of your body, finding purchase in the covers. He gripped your hips in a tight hold, keeping you in place as he started fucking in and out. In only a few thrusts, your cock was fully hard once more, leaking in the space between your bodies.
You grabbed at Zuko’s broad shoulders, burying your face into the sweaty crook of his neck. It did little to muffle the sounds you let out, but it seemed as if Zuko didn’t mind, his pace doubling. The entire palace was bound to know what you were up to.
Your second release of the night built higher and higher on each thrust, to the point that it only took a few slick pulls of your fingers around your cock to come.
You opened your eyes slowly, not even realizing you had closed them. It took a few seconds to register that Zuko was speaking to you, your brain catching up moments later.
“Do you realize how you look?” He asked, “stuffed full of my cock?” Zuko’s cock throbbed wildly inside, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
He came with a loud moan, ending with one final thrust that left his cock deep. It overwhelmed you, like a dam of emotions bursting after months of building. “Zuko,” you breathed, not even knowing what you were asking for as tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.
“Rest now,” Zuko said, maneuvering your body until he had you in his arms. “We have all night,” he whispered into your ear, his fingers spread across your stomach.
No smut in this one (ironic way to start off this series, I know), but it's filled with a lot of fluff to make up for it.
“Quit squirming,” you say, trying your best to wipe Ryland’s chest down.
“It’s,” Ryland lets out a gasp when the wet cloth passes over his nipple. The mess you made wasn’t that high up on his chest, but you couldn’t help yourself, “cold!”
“It’s room temperature,” you correct.
“Where’s your thermometer?” He grumbles out, his squirming coming to an end as you finish up.
“Don’t have one,” you answer absentmindedly, trying to not gasp when you wipe the cloth along your sensitive cock. Maybe Ryland was right.
You look up as you move the cloth higher up your body, trying not to laugh when you see that Ryland’s mouth is hanging open in bewilderment.
“I do have one,” you clarify with an eye roll, “it’s just buried in a drawer somewhere,” you answer before rolling off the bed to head to the bathroom. You wring out the washcloth under the faucet, watching the evidence of your activities circle the drain.
On your return, Ryland is already under the covers, his glasses perched upon his nose. He glances up from his book before moving an arm out to turn down your side of the bed.
“You look comfortable,” you observe.
“Could be even better,” Ryland murmurs in response, his fingers brushing your thigh.
“Okay okay,” you laugh, swatting at hands when he tries to yank you into the bed.
His book seemingly forgotten, Ryland leans up to press a kiss to your lips once you’re under the covers, “I thought you were reading,” you whisper against his mouth.
He sends you a soft smile in response before moving his glasses down under his chin in that way that always pisses you off, “I thought of something better to do.”
You let yourself be kissed before pulling away to carefully take his glasses off, “you’re going to break these,” you huff, holding them up as you wait for Ryland to place them on the nightstand. “Ah ah ah,” you scold when Ryland tries to steal another kiss.
This time, it’s Ryland that lets out a huff as he grabs the glasses and tosses them onto the table, making you laugh, even if it also has you wincing internally. He returns in a flash, swallowing the sound when he pulls you back in.
He pulls away to pepper kisses along your face, “happy now?” He questions between pecks.
“I could do without the throwing–”
Ryland pulls away with a scoff, “I didn’t throw them!” He gripes, one of his hands resting on your chest.
“There was an echo.”
“There was not,” Ryland lets out a laugh that rings throughout the bedroom, “there was not an echo,” he repeats through laughter.
“Yeah, I think,” you bring a hand to your ear, “my ears are still ringing?” You question feigning confusion.
That gets a louder laugh from Ryland before he’s falling onto your chest, “you little,” he begins, making you wonder what minced oath he’s about to come up with. Instead, he gets his strong arms around you, his fingers finding your ribs.
You try to move away, but Ryland doesn’t let you, “Ryland!”
“Say I didn’t throw them,” he commands.
“You’re being childish,” you respond with a laugh.
For a second, you’re able to get your hands free, but before you can push them against Ryland’s shoulders, he’s got both of your hands held by your wrists above your head. “Say I didn’t throw them,” he repeats, his knees bracketing your hips, caging you in.
Arousal runs through you at the reminder of just how physically strong Ryland is, “you didn’t throw them,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Ryland leans down moments later to press his lips to yours, his hand loosening around your wrists. He lets out a hum of satisfaction with his tongue meets yours, the kiss slow and dirty.
Your arms move to wrap around Ryland’s broad shoulders, pulling him down until his chest meets yours.
Ryland pulls away from the kiss with a sigh, his head moving to rest on your shoulder. Your hand is immediately tangling through his hair, smoothing away the mess of sex and sweat.
“Love you,” Ryland murmurs, his lips dragging across your skin.
“Love you more,” you respond easily, your eyes slipping shut.
You feel Ryland’s smile against your skin before there's a soft scrape of teeth on your neck, “no,” he responds, dragging the word out. He kisses his way up your neck to pull you into a lazy kiss.
You fight to get your eyes back open, Ryland’s weight shifting as he rolls off you to lay down onto the pillow.
“Did I wear you out?” He questions.
“I’m–” you start, only to be interrupted with Ryland’s yawn, “awake.”
Ryland looks at you with half lidded eyes before moving closer, his head coming to rest on your pillow.
“You’ve got your own,” you grumble, trying to sound mad, but only feeling affection.
Because there are only 26 letters in the alphabet, and I've combined some of the day's prompts, I'm going to post the first one on the fifth. Happy Pride!
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Warning for anal sex, bottom male reader, felching, finger kink, overstimulation, rimming, rough sex, scent kink, size kink, and snowballing.
Part I
“We’re going to get food after this, right?” You ask after Leon pulls away from the kiss.
It takes a moment for him to answer, too busy dragging his mouth down your neck, “whatever you want,” Leon responds before he latches onto a particular spot.
“Will we,” you try to start, but your voice gives way to a gasp. Leon’s mouth is skilled, as you expected, his tongue soothing over the place his teeth just dug into, “Have time for that?” You question, your voice breathy.
Leon pulls away, his lips shiny with spit, “I’ll make the time,” he states, leaving no room for argument. His eyes are steely, cold, almost, not like a man who was just mouthing at your neck and rutting his hard cock into your ass.
He swoops back down, this time moving to the other side. You feel the vibration when he speaks next, rumbling from his chest into yours. You aren’t able to fully make out what he says, but it sounds a lot like now stop talking.
You do just that. Because you want to, of course. Not because you’re almost as afraid of Leon as you’re turned on by him.
“Good,” Leon says, much clearer than the last time he spoke. He moves back up to press a swift kiss of appreciation to your lips.
Unable to help yourself, you speak once more: “will my shirt be able to cover those?” You question.
Leon chuckles in response, his hands moving to cup your ass through your pants. He doesn’t respond in words, simply moves higher up to sink his teeth into the skin beneath your jawbone. Right beside it, your pulse hammers away, blood rushing under your skin. All of that blood feels as if it’s mainly rushing all towards your cock, making you feel dizzy.
You let out a whine as Leon sucks a bruise into the skin. If Leon were the guy everyone was intimidated by at work, maybe you could be the guy who starts wearing scarves to work. You could already hear the whispers of gossip.
You let out a moan as Leon brings your hips together, his wet tongue running over the mark he’s no doubt left. You jump when one of Leon’s hands moves quickly up your shirt, not even caring that he’s moments away from tearing the buttons off.
“This should be tucked in,” he says, watching the way his hand pushes the shirt up.
“It was,” you respond, feeling the heat of embarrassment wash over you. You couldn’t exactly remember if you had tucked it into your pants after buttoning it, but you knew from the heated make out session you were having on Leon’s couch that it was bound to come undone.
“It wasn’t,” Leon bites back, but you can’t actually tell if he’s truly angry or not. “You need to look good under me,” he says, going one by one and unbuttoning your shirt.
You feel the side of your mouth lift in a smirk, but quickly mask it, “I don’t look good?” You ask, feigning confusion.
Leon’s eyes lift from the display of skin to your face, “not what I mean,” he says with a soft laugh, “I need you to look good when you represent me,” he clarifies, getting the rest of your shirt undone.
You worked for the Division of Security Operations, so you aren’t sure if you technically represented Leon, but you were currently too turned on to question him. You were smart enough to get this job, so you were smart enough to understand what he meant.
Leon’s hands move to the sides of your ribs to pull your body up and forward, close enough to him that he’s able to run his tongue across one of your nipples. You gasp at the contact and go lax in Leon’s hold, feeling the man’s strong arms wrap around you and hold you still.
You squirm in his tight grip when Leon's teeth nip the bud, before his tongue is back to soothe it over. Your cock throbs in the confines of your pants, straining against the zipper to be let free.
You let out a groan when Leon moves to the other, learning right then and there how he isn’t able to let things go. While he plays with the other, his hand moves to tweak the one just in his mouth. His fingers are less forgiving, rough and calloused as they roll the bud between two warm fingers.
You bury a hand in Leon’s soft hair, yanking at the back of it when it all becomes too much. For a moment, Leon looks confused after you pull him off, his brows pulled down, but when you press your lips to his, he enthusiastically responds.
His tongue pushes its way past your lips, unlike the earlier kisses you had gotten when Leon had been gentler in his approach. He lets out a breathy noise when your tongues meet, his hands moving to the clasp of your pants.
Leon pulls back long enough to focus on your pants, but instead of fully getting them out of the way, he gets his hands in the back.
Leon’s hands feel burning hot on your skin, his fingers digging greedily into the flesh. You whimper at his nails on your skin, his fingers skirting your crack. They tease the skin for a short while, spreading one cheek just enough to get the dry pad of his finger onto your hole.
The touch is gone moments later so Leon can push you over onto the couch to get the rest of your clothes off. You’re clumsy in getting your pants off, nearly kicking Leon.
“Careful,” Leon says, biting his lip like he’s holding back laughter. “I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving you with a squeeze to your ankle and letting you sit with your embarrassment.
He walks off into an unknown room, giving you the opportunity once more to check out your surroundings. You had tried when Leon first got you in the door, but he was too busy kissing you breathless to give you the chance to look around.
Leon’s living room looks lived in, if not a little sterile. Shelves hold books and movies, ones that are too far away for you to see the titles. You choose to stay on the couch, even if a small part of you wants to be nosy. You aren’t sure how sexy it would be standing there with a boner, looking at his bookshelves when Leon came back.
“Ah ah ah,” Leon chides when he finally does come back into the room. It startles you, making you realize that your hand had been sliding down your stomach, and was nearly in your underwear. He places a bottle onto the ground beside your feet, adding an old man noise when he bends over and all.
Leon’s body was hard to ignore throughout the day, even with a shirt and jacket on. His shirt had looked like a second skin, clinging to his muscles. When Leon pulls it off, it goes easily before falling to the floor with a soft noise.
Even at his age, Leon’s body is still sculpted, his shirt leaving little to the imagination about how muscular he is. When you reach out to touch and come into contact with his warm skin, Leon sighs softly.
You take a moment to skim your fingers through the trail of dark hair that leads into his pants, looking up to watch the way Leon’s eyes slip shut. You turn your attention to Leon’s belt buckle, Leon’s arms hanging motionless at his sides as you get the rest of his clothes off.
You let out a squeak when one of Leon’s hands moves to the back of your head after getting his pants down. He pushes your head forward until your nose meets his clothed crotch. The force of it nearly hurts, but you’re soon overcome with the rich scent of Leon’s musk, and are too busy breathing in the heady aroma.
By the time Leon’s hand loosens, you’re drunk off the smell, your cock leaking in your underwear at the rich scent. You drag your nose across the length of his cock, and nearly make it to the fly where you know it’ll be heavier, but a hand on your forehead pushes you away.
You look up at Leon with half lidded eyes, and are met with a similar look. His hand trails down your face, running along your cheeks until they get to your mouth. Your lips part for Leon’s fingers, sucking on his appendages when they rest on your tongue.
A string of spit connects your mouth to his fingers when Leon pulls them free, the man above you breathing heavy. He pushes you down onto the couch before rolling you over with warm, spit slick fingers.
What waits for you at the end of the couch isn’t a pillow, but instead is Leon’s jacket, which you use as a pillow. Your arms rest under your head, your nose buried in the collar of the garment. What clings to the fabric isn’t musk, like Leon’s underwear, but instead is the spicy scent of his cologne, with hints of aftershave.
High off the smell, your mind doesn’t focus on the mess your cock makes when Leon gets your underwear down. Precum leaks from your cock, staining the couch below you, dripping from the head when Leon pushes your knees up.
Left on your knees and elbows, nerves fill your body not being able to see what’s behind you. You gasp when Leon grabs your asscheeks, kneading the flesh before spreading you open.
Your mouth falls open with a moan when you feel the flat of Leon’s tongue against your hole. He licks over the tight furl with broad strokes until you feel yourself relaxing with a whine. You moan louder into the leather of Leon’s jacket when he pushes his tongue inside, roaming around your walls in the same way it was in your mouth when he kissed you.
You push back into his tongue, and turn your head to suck in breaths that’re free of the scent on his jacket, needing the fresh before it can overwhelm you. You let out a whine at the feel of Leon’s rough stubble on your sensitive skin, the sensation a delicious twinge of roughness.
You try angling your head back to watch Leon work, but all you can make out is his dark hair and flashes of his broad back muscles flexing. It nearly startles you when he pulls away, and you’re fixed under his intense gaze, a light blush on his cheeks.
Your cock throbs between your legs when Leon breaks the stare and spits on your hole. It makes you jump, and your thighs quiver when you feel his spit drip down your taint.
Desperate for some sort of pleasure to your cock, you try to get a hand between your legs while Leon moves to grab the lube, but he’s quicker than you.
“What did I say?” He snaps, capturing your wrist. He gathers the other with his other hand and brings them together behind your back, your arms folded. He holds them together with one broad hand in a tight grip, letting out a tsk of disapproval.
You were tempted to fight back, after all, what he said was ah ah ah, which you weren’t sure was actually talking. You instead sent him your best glare, making Leon laugh.
Leon drags the spit back up your taint until he gets it back on your hole. He circles his finger around your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the feeling before he slowly pushes inside.
Spit only does so much to help before his finger starts to burn, making you try to move away. Leon makes easy work of stopping you before he leans forward to lick around his finger. You’re overcome by the similar sense of pleasure that his tongue brought, his finger pulling free slowly to then be fully replaced with his tongue.
Leon pulls away to nip at one of your asscheeks, “sorry,” he says, running his hand soothingly down one of your thighs, “wanted to get one last taste.”
The next time you feel his finger, it’s slick with lube. With the aid of his spit, Leon’s finger is able to make its way all the way inside. Gone is the previous pain, and it is now replaced with the anticipation of his finger finding your prostate.
It only takes the slow curl of Leon’s finger for you to let out a loud moan of pleasure, and once he finds it, he stays on it. Even when his finger leaves momentarily to return seconds later with another, the two are able to find the sensitive bundle of nerves right away.
You clench around his fingers as they stretch and open you wide for his cock, leaving you feeling full, even if it’s from just his fingers. The third finger comes after you see Leon’s underwear in your peripheral vision, joining the pile of your combined clothes.
The sight leaves you eager with anticipation, knowing what would soon be replacing the fingers fucking you open. You thrust back into the digits, stars lighting up your vision each and every time he brushes against your prostate.
Leon’s fingers pull free with a slick noise that has a bolt of heat rushing through your body. The slick head of his cock kisses your hole, teasing your opening by running it back and forth.
Leon is steady and unforgiving when he thrusts inside. Just like the way he fucked your throat, he goes deep until he’s buried to the hilt. His heavy weight settles on top of you, pressing you into the couch as his cock carves its place inside you.
Your right leg falls off the edge of the couch, giving Leon more room to work. His hand lets go of your wrists, but you don’t dare move. Instead, you groan when Leon’s hands settle around your lower back.
He sets up a viscous pace, his hands tight around your hips as he hammers you into the couch. Delirious from the pleasure, you almost want to question how he’s able to go so hard, but all that comes out when you do is moans of ecstasy.
Leon’s animalistic grunts fill your ears, washing over you with each thrust. His hands move to yank your body back against his. His sweaty chest rests against your back as he keeps up his pace. A strong arm settles around your waist, his fingers spread out to lay flat over your stomach.
“Can you feel it?” He questions, stopping to grind his hips on your ass. His fingers press into your stomach, on top of where his cock is buried, “when I’m done with you,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
You moan in Leon’s hold, clenching down as you throw your head back onto his shoulder. A hand goes to your jaw to turn your neck into a sloppy kiss. Teeth nip at your bottom lip near the end, and a tongue follows shortly after to lick over the hurt.
Leon’s hand goes down the plane of your body to wrap around your cock, giving a single stroke from root to tip. When he begins to move again, his hand moves at the same pace, slick fingers gliding along the length.
Your orgasm hits with such intensity that no sound falls from your lips. You gasp through silent screams, your hole quivering around Leon’s cock. Unaware that your eyes had closed, they open to watch the last few spurts of your spend land on Leon’s jacket. It feels like payback from earlier, and you managed to do it without even thinking.
Leon’s arms are there to hold you up when the aftershocks begin to hit. Or perhaps, it’s just to hold your body in place to fuck you to completion.
He finishes with a drawn-out sound, loud enough that it sounds as if he’s making up for not being able to in his office. You swear you can feel every single throb and motion of his cock as he comes deep inside you. It leaves you feeling full, like you knew you would, but in a way that makes you feel utterly and completely satisfied.
You feel Leon’s head fall onto the back of your neck, strands of sweaty hair tickling your skin. He pants against your skin, the puffs of his breath warm.
You give an experimental clench around his cock as it begins to soften. You can already feel the mess threatening to leak from around his cock.
Leon groans from the stimulation, his arms tightening around you. He nips softly at the back of your neck in retaliation.
“Made a,” you gasp when his cock slips free, “mess on your jacket, sorry.”
“Are you?” Leon quips, “you’re a mess back here, too,” he observes, slipping a finger back inside your hole.
“Not my fault,” you respond, letting Leon have his fun before moving away and flopping onto your back on top of the jacket. The teeth of the zipper are cool against your back, a small relief against the sweat cooling on your skin.
Leon follows to lift your legs over his shoulder. Your cock gives an interested twitch, even if you know you’re too tired. Your eyes flick down to Leon’s cock, dangling soft between his muscular thighs.
“Fuck,” you whisper, pushing your hand through Leon’s sweaty hair after he leans down to flick his tongue across your hole. You can’t imagine that the lube tastes very good, if it even has one at all, but Leon doesn’t seem to mind.
You tighten your hand in his hair and push his face deeper, Leon groaning at the pricks of pain to his scalp. Your head falls to the arm of the couch when Leon pushes his tongue inside, pleasure curling in your gut.
You feel Leon’s tongue press as far as it can, and you gasp around the wet intrusion. When he pulls away, he does so by licking all the way up, ending at the head of your soft cock. He lowers your legs back down to the couch slowly before making his way back down, this time to your mouth to get you into a slow kiss.
He pushes the mix of cum and lube from his tongue into your mouth, "swallow," he commands, one of his hands moving to softly cup your throat. “Good boy,” he says softly when he feels the movement of your throat under his fingers.
You let out a groan of air when Leon rests his heavy weight on top of you, your legs tangling together effortlessly. “We hafta go back to work,” you slur tiredly. You didn’t even want to think about how far it had gotten past your allotted hour-long lunch.
Leon lets out a chuckle, “you really want to go back to work like this?” He cranes his head to look at you from your collarbone, “want everyone to see what I did to you?” He questions, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
I want a paycheck, you thought to yourself, but instead let exhaustion take you. You’d worry about it when you woke up.
Warning for rough oral sex, boot kink, mean older Leon, and power imbalances.
“You doe-eyed recruits are always so eager to please,” Leon murmurs as the pad of his finger traces the corner of your mouth, stretched open wide around his cock. He lets out a chuckle, “never thought I’d get one on his knees on his very first day.”
You try to respond with some sort of agreement, but with your mouth stuffed full of Leon’s cock, all that comes out is a sound you hope conveys your response.
The vibration of the sound must do something for Leon, because it has him thrusting forward with a twitch, sending his cock deeper. Leon groans as your throat convulses around his cock, the head meeting the back of your throat.
Your first instinct is to get away, but a strong hand on your nape stops you. You struggle against the weight, tears leaking from your eyes as Leon cock remains buried deep.
“Relax,” Leon commands, shaking you like a dog gripped by its scruff, “breathe through your nose.”
When you try pushing off once more, this time using Leon’s shins, the man still won’t budge. You give up your struggle when black spots begin appearing on the edge of your vision, your heart hammering against your ribcage through the lack of oxygen.
You suck in a tense breath through your nose, trying to relax. You don’t think you’d ever be able to live it down passing out in your boss’s office on your first day. Of course, you’d do the rational thing and quit, but you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself knowing you’ve done something so humiliating.
“That’s it,” Leon says, his hand loosening around your neck, “I don’t need you asphyxiating yourself on my office floor,” he runs this thumb soothingly across your skin.
You didn’t exactly know how old Leon is, but it caught you by surprise at the way his cock remained hard on your tongue. Even as you felt your body relaxing, Leon stayed the same.
Leon’s cock throbs on your tongue before you taste the bitter saltiness of his precome hit your tastebuds. When your hands fall from his shins, he gives an experimental roll of his hips, fucking his cock deeper.
Your senses light once more when you gag once more around his cock, but pride overtakes you feeling it’s not as intense as before.
“Good boy,” Leon bit out. You could tell he was tense, but whether it’s from an approaching orgasm, or a want to stay still, you couldn’t tell.
The praise has your cock throbbing in your slacks, your hands itching at your sides to cup yourself and find some sense of relief. You don’t dare move, especially after Leon had barked at you earlier when you tried to wrap a hand around the base of his cock.
Seemingly as if Leon can read your mind, the toe of his boot softly makes contact with your bulge. It’s there only for a second, long enough to send a shockwave through your body. You’re left with the sour feeling of humiliation when you realize that Leon is waiting for you to do it again.
A breathy laugh hits your ears when you move, shifting until your cock rests on the toe of Leon’s boot, “you belong down here, don’t you?” He questions.
You moan softly at the friction to your hardening cock, preparing for the movement of Leon’s hips.
The movement is accompanied with a gasp, your eyes flicking up to Leon’s face. With his bottom lip held between his teeth, Leon tries to hold in his moans, his other hand not on your neck wrapped tightly around the side of his chair. The leather crinkles underneath his fingernails as Leon lets out another gasp, this one sharper than before.
You’re able to move under Leon’s loose grip on your nape, your head bobbing up and down. Spit coats your lips as you move up and down, moisture dripping closer and closer to the coarse strands of Leon’s pubic hair.
Your nose crinkles when it touches it, a surprisingly ticklish sensation. You can smell Leon’s musk stronger than ever: a mix of sweat, cologne, and something darker underneath it all.
Leon’s moans grow louder, his hand on your nape tightening once more. His hips stay in place, but his hand moves, pushing you down on his cock. He pushes past your gag reflex, hissing as your throat flutters around his thick cock.
The dark scent, you learn, is all Leon. You breathe it deep into your lungs as you fight your gags, swearing that you can taste it alongside the salty taste of Leon’s precome. It coats the back of your throat with a flavor you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.
Tears run down your face, your throat burning as Leon holds his cock deep. His cock throbs wildly on your tongue, making you think that he must be close.
You moan around Leon’s cock when the press of his boot becomes firmer. The toe of his boot presses up, right up into your balls and taint. Your moans grow louder as you push down into the touch, grinding into the warm leather.
You’re given no warning as Leon shoots down your throat, his hips quivering. You cough around Leon’s cock, trying your best to swallow all that he gives. The mess of cum of spit spills from your lips, dripping all the way down until you feel it hit the collar of your new uniform.
Leon holds your head in place until his cock begins to soften. It feels like forever, but at least as each second goes by, you’re able to breathe easier.
“Clean me off,” he commands, his voice gruff.
You work your tongue along his softening cock, Leon grunting when you softly suck the head. The sound goes straight to your cock, still being pressed by Leon’s boot.
“That’s enough,” Leon decides, his cock falling from your mouth with a pop. He pushes you away with a hand on your forehead, your eyes flicking up to meet his.
The clang of his belt buckle is loud in your ears as he holds your eye. You bite your tongue to keep from doing something stupid as your eyes flick down to see Leon’s cock disappear from view.
Once he’s zipped up, you’re left with the sound of the clock on Leon’s wall ticking. Leon lets out a heavy breath from his nose before you feel his boot shift against your cock.
You moan softly as the toe of his boot drags along the length of your cock, Leon moving to open one of his desk drawers. He tosses a handkerchief in your direction, the same color blue as the logo to the organization you just started working for.
“Clean yourself up.”
Your head shoots up to look at Leon, the cloth resting in your lap, “what?”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Leon questions, pulling his boot away, “don’t look at me like that,” he says with a smirk.
You wipe away the spit and sweat from your face, trying not to grimace when your stained color touches your neck.
Leon grabs your collar to pull you closer, nearly choking you, “look at the mess you made,” he observes softly. He runs his thumb across the stain, “you work for me now,” he says possessively, “I can’t have you looking a mess can I?”
“No sir,” you whisper, trying to ignore the way Leon’s tone makes your cock twitch.
“Attaboy,” Leon replies, his hand moving to your shoulder to pull you up, “go get a new uniform on.” He takes the dirty cloth from you and tosses it carelessly on his desk.
You’re nearly to Leon’s door when you hear the man give a groan behind you. A second later, he’s got you pushed onto the door, his broad chest resting on yours. You gasp when your back meets the door, looking up at Leon with wide eyes.
“Make sure to not draw any attention with this,” Leon says, his hand cupping your cock, “Chris would eat you alive if he saw you like this,” he whispers.
Your brows furrow in confusion, not knowing who he was talking about. You try and open your mouth to question him, but Leon swoops forward to press his mouth to yours.
“Go,” he commands, practically shoving you out the door after he unlocks it.
You should head straight to Human Resources, but instead, you find the nearest bathroom to splash cold water against your face.
You jump when you hear one of the stall doors open, “hey!” The man says as he steps up to the sink next to yours, “how’s your first day going?” He asks as he lathers up his hands.
“Fine,” you respond, suddenly feeling hot under the collar at the prospect of what you had just done being found out. In the mirror, your eyes move from the stain on your collar to the man’s eyes. You couldn’t even remember who this guy was, let alone when you had met earlier that day.
The man chuckles, “that doesn’t sound very convincing,” he replies, “Leon must be putting you through it.”
“No,” you clear your throat, suddenly tasting the salty remnants of his spend, “he’s,” you swallow tightly, “great,” you finish, flinching when your voice cracks on the word.
“That guy scares me,” the man responds, sending you a smile, “he never takes any newbies,” he grabs a paper towel to wipe his hands, “you must’ve really caught his eye,” he says as he tosses the wet towel into the trash.
Your mind races as the man leaves the bathroom, leaving you alone. You thought you had just met Leon today, but you’re able to remember flashes of seeing the man the day of your interview. From what you could remember, all you did was walk past the man without even a glance.
You lean down to the faucet to swish cold water around your mouth. It does little to help, but maybe something stronger like a cup of coffee would be better. You give one last glance to yourself in the mirror, trying to smooth out your disheveled appearance.
Even if the coffee doesn’t help, you’d be able to blame it for the stain on your collar if someone catches you on your way to get a new shirt.
By the time you’re back to Leon’s office, he’s back in his chair. You take a seat across from him, his eyes watching you as he speaks on the floor.
When his icy blue eyes meet yours, you look down, keeping your gaze glued to the floor. Minutes later, Leon’s boots fill your vision before a hand is on your chin, turning your view up to look at him.
“Almost lunch time,” Leon says, his eyes flicking over to the clock on the wall, “you hungry?”
You nod tensely, waiting with bated breath to see what Leon would say, or do, next.
“C’mon,” he says, grabbing his jacket, “there’s somewhere I want to take you.”
Outside of Leon’s office, you respond, “to eat?”
Leon lets out a huff of laughter, one of his hands on the small of your back as he walks you to the entrance of the building.
