#benji kaplan

This sucked. Like actually, truly, sucked. 

When your friend had invited you to a bonfire, you had assumed that she would at least be with you at the party. But alas, as soon as you exited her stupid blue Kia and approached the fire, she disappeared with a ‘Go have fun!’. That had been what felt like hours ago, but had probably only been maybe thirty minutes. Now, she sat across the fire on some guy’s lap- probably the reason you had even been there in the first place- while you sat on a log on the other side, drinking boxed wine out of a solo cup. Not even the good boxed wine; it tasted more like it had been stowed away for months before it was cracked open, more of a bitter taste than you’d like. 

Letting out a tired sigh, you swish the liquid around in your cup before surveying the rest of the group. There were a few couples scattered around the fire, the girls perched on their man’s much like my friend was. A few guys solo, as well, some sitting together with a joint, another group of guys walking to a rusty pick up on the gravel drive-way, yelling something about ‘hotboxing’. You watched as a few other people got up, probably to go hotbox their own car, your friend grabbing her date and dragging him to her car. Great. So now the already messy Kia is going to smell like weed. As if the month old Taco Bell stench wasn’t enough. Delightful. 

While watching them disappear into the back seat, you roll your eyes, not registering the new person sitting beside you on the log, the one person you hadn’t accounted for before when you were taking a tally.

“Yikes, is that your friend?” 

You nearly jump at the sudden voice, turning to see a man now taking the spot next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. He’s a little older than you, in his thirties if you’d have to guess, not a huge deal considering half of male party goers tonight seemed to be in that same age range. And honestly? He didn’t seem to mind being one of the older invites; relaxed shoulders, calm demeanor, already rolled joint placed behind his ear. He seemed to be perfectly at ease. 

When he noticed you staring at him, he just smiled crookedly, prominent laugh lines showing next to his eyes. He nodded again in the direction of your friend. “That your friend?” he simply repeated. 

You rolled your eyes, taking a longer than necessary sip of your drink, cringing again at the taste. “She’s supposed to be. Ditched me as soon as she got here for whoever the hell that guy is.” 

The man next to you let out a low whistle that ended in a light chuckle. “Yeah, I’m guessing that definitely breaks some kind of friendship rule.” 

You scoff out a laugh, nodding along to his words. 

“Wanna know something though?” he asked then, leaning toward you, like he was about to share some secret. 

At him being closer now, you got another look at him. He was definitely handsome in his own sort of way. His hair was pretty unruly, but somehow fit him perfectly. He had a beard that was long past over-grown, but he seemed to put a little effort into it, trimmed down enough that it didn’t make him look dirty at least. And you can’t help but notice a small scar above his left eyebrow, eyebrows that sat above eyes that looked… well, sad. 

Reminding yourself that he asked you something, you quickly decided he was probably, mostly harmless, just shrugging your shoulders. “Okay, I’ll bite, what?” 

His grin grew a little bit, nodding back to your friend’s car, almost motioning for your eyes to follow his. They do, landing on the old Kia, that now had smoke shielding visibility for every window. You let out an annoyed groan on instinct. 

“So the dude she’s in there with- Troy-,” he begins to explain, his hands moving animatedly from the corner of your eye, “he’s not exactly… fucking, I don’t know not exactly… a saint, I would say, at least in his line of work. I know he probably only invited your friend here to get her to buy from him. And your friend probably thinks she was invited so he would ask her to go steady, am I right?” 

Arching a curious brow, you turn to glance at him slightly. “She just said she wanted to take me to a party. That guy wasn’t even mentioned.” 

Both of the guy’s brows shot up at that, clearly shocked and amused. “Oh shit, so you really don’t know a thing.” 

It was more of a statement than a question. 

“Not one detail.” Your eyes glance back to the car before back at the stranger. “So, what are you saying? Is that Troy guy dangerous or something?” 

The guy let out a scratchy laugh, probably from finishing a joint a few minutes earlier. “Jesus, dude, no, definitely not. But his morality is kind of fucked. He’ll probably fuck her and then shoot her down, still having her pay for whatever she smoked tonight.” 

You cringe a bit at the crude way he words it, but appreciate the honesty. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time your friend has followed a guy around like this, only delusion at the front of her mind. Unfortunately, this was a cycle you just had to let play out. 

You let out a sigh, staring into your solo cup, going back to swishing the wine there. “Looks like I’m going to be here a while then.” 

The stranger sat up a bit straighter, his smile softening just a fraction. “Well, if you don’t mind company at your pity party,” he shoots his hand out, “Benji.” 

That made you smile a bit, happy to finally put a name to his face. You went to shake his hand, finding it a bit ridiculous, though endearing, and introduced yourself in return. 

About an hour or so later, you realize that Benji isn’t the worst company. He may have been a little loud, words a little harsh, and not so accustomed with personal space- his hand had brushed your thigh and arm more times than you could count-, but he definitely kept you entertained. Distracted. And from the far away look he got in his eyes when he did stop talking for a few seconds, he seemed to need the distraction too. 

Once his most recent story ends, he’s a little fidgety, fingers tapping his jean clad leg. You take another drink from your solo cup, cringing again, finally deciding to toss the remaining liquid into the bonfire. Benji’s gaze perks up at the motion, a grin returning to his face. “Can’t believe you were drinking that shit in the first place,” he said, finally taking the joint from behind his ear, fishing for a lighter in his pocket. “No one ever comes to these things and actually drinks the alcohol.” 

You watch as he lights up the end, taking a deep inhale, watching the slight tensing of his jaw as he holds the smoke, before blowing it out. You let your eyes follow the smoke as it mingles with the excess from the fire. Staring for a beat longer, you turn back to see Benji already has his eyes on you. You flush a bit at the look, looking away to reach down and set your now empty cup by your shared log.

“What, you want a hit or something?” When you finally allowed yourself to look at him again, he was already holding the joint out with lazy fingers. 

You bite your lip slightly, watching his eyes follow the movement before you free your bottom lip. “See, I’ve never actually, um, smoked a joint before.” 

His gaze stayed on your lips for an extra beat before meeting your gaze. “So… what? You used to a bong? I’m sure someone has-” 

He begins to stand up, only stopping when you place a hand on his arm. “No, Benji, I haven’t smoked at all before.” 

Now that got his attention. 

He let out an almost incredulous laugh, ignoring the log to now squat in front of you, his hand going to the spot beside your leg to steady himself. “You’re shitting me. Never?” 

You didn’t answer with words, merely shaking your head ‘no’. 

He stared at you longer, eyes intense, as though he was mulling something over in his brain. You began to squirm in place when he finally nodded to himself, fine with whatever his mind had decided. Standing from his squatting position, he held a hand out. “Alright, let’s go, newbie. You’re about to smoke your first joint.” 

You opened your mouth to speak before closing it again. Was he serious? Sure seemed like it; standing, waiting, his hand not moving an inch. Looking up to his face, he held that same carefree grin he’d had the rest of the night. 

He was serious. 

Shrugging a bit, you look back at his hand as if you’re contemplating it. You kind of are. “Depends- are you going to make me pay for the weed if I smoke it?” 

The man let out a loud laugh, causing a few other partygoers to stop and stare. You didn’t look at them too much, more focused on his laugh, shoulders shaking with each movement. It’s a nice sound, you simply decide. When he had finally calmed down, he stopped holding his hand out, now just taking your hand and hauling you up from the log. “No, dude, only Troy pulls shit like that. Everyone knows you don’t let a pretty girl pay for their own weed, especially if it’s their first smoke.” 

His back was already turned to you, fingers locked with yours as he dragged you to a new spot, as if he hadn’t said anything. Or maybe just didn’t care that he did, unashamed of it. If the heat in your cheeks said anything, you didn’t quite mind either. 

He pulled you to a quiet spot further from the bonfire, the illumination from is fading as well. Though it was hard to make out, he seemed to lead you to a quiet spot by the woods that lined the back of the house. He hardly looked at you as he dropped your hand, pulling his bleached hoodie over his head. The motion led to his shirt being pulled up as well, revealing his toned but soft physique, your mouth going dry at the sight, but careful to divert your gaze as he pulled the fabric back down. He spread his hoodie on the grass by a large tree, softening the spot on the grass before sitting beside. 

He patted the now dirtied fabric beside him, a smile on his face as he went to re-light his once forgotten joint. “Take a seat, I’ll get this lit up.” 

You stood a moment longer but eventually lowered yourself to the ground. Once you were finally comfortable on the hoodie, back pressed against the tree, Benji was already taking a puff from the joint. He let himself exhale the smoke again, turning fully to you now, extending the joint to her for the second time that night. “Think you’re ready?” 

No, you thought, but took the joint from him anyway. You stared at it for what you guessed was too long, as Benji laughed and said, “It’s not going to bite you.” 

The grass shifted beside you as he scooted closer, one of his hands adjusting yours so you were holding it properly. “There you go. Now you just,” he adjusted himself again, putting his free arm around you, putting his hand on the ground to stay steady himself, keep himself close, “bring it to your lips.” 

His voice was soft, soothing, different from how he’d sounded the rest of the night. He kept his right hand over yours, bringing the joint closer to your mouth. When you finally had it between your lips, he slowly let his hand fall from yours, though his gaze stayed. “Attagirl. Now go ahead and breathe in.” 

Following his instructions you did, only a small breath though. Feeling the smoke enter your lungs was foreign, a warm feeling flooding your chest. It felt nearly suffocating, holding the smoke in. Benji caught on fast, moving his hand from the grass to pat on your back softly. “Holy shit, you can breathe it out, kid. You’re gonna choke like-” 

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence as you began to cough, spluttering and doubled over as the smoke finally left your mouth. His hand on your back turned into a soothing rubbing motion, letting you hack out more rough coughs. Your throat felt like you just swallowed glass when you finally sat up, leaning into Benji’s side as you let out another weak cough. “I don’t think I did that right,” you croaked out. 

A chuckle left him, one that you could actually feel from leaning into his chest. “Yeah, definitely not.” 

When you had finally let out what felt like your last cough, you moved to stop leaning on him, though you felt colder now. “Sorry, looks like the teaching lesson is being cut short.” 

As you turned to face him, you were met with a look on Benji’s face that you hadn’t seen prior. He still held that soft smirk, but his eyes were more focused, intense. “Well, not necessarily.”

Your brows furrow. “How? I think we both see that I can’t smoke.” 

His grin only widened at the statement, taking the joint you didn’t realize you were still holding from your fingers. He took his own hit, blowing away the smoke before turning back to you. “No, we know that you can’t smoke directly from the joint. Not that you can’t smoke at all.”

Without more of an explanation, he scoots closer, moving his arm back to framing your back. He carefully made eye contact, joint propped in his hand still as he spoke. “Alright, dude, we’re gonna do something called ‘shotgunning’. You heard of it?” 

All you can muster is a shake of your head, too distracted by the shrinking distance between you. 

He merely nods his head, like that's the answer he was expecting. He can’t help but let out a soft chuckle though. “I can’t say I’m too shocked, but maybe a little. With all the shit your friend seems to do, and she hasn’t taught you a thing or two?” 

You shake your head again, almost on autopilot. You may have coughed a lung out from that singular hit, but something was definitely happening with your brain. Thoughts fuzzier, slower. Couldn’t focus on more than one thing at a time, so your brain was deciding to focus on him- how his proximity seemed to be getting closer and closer, honing onto the sound of his steady breath beside you. How you swore you could feel his breath on your skin. Everything felt slightly heightened. 

Benji seemed to take note of the dazed look in your eyes, only humming in acknowledgement. Hazel eyes stayed on you for a moment longer, far more intense than they had been previously, before they flashed back to their usual soft state. Maybe you imagined his fixated gaze, maybe your thoughts had been more jumbled than you thought. 

“Well, doesn’t really matter anyways. Guess I’ll have to do a little more teaching.” Fingers that were originally placed in the grass, were felt across your shoulder, grazing your jaw to position your face more directly in front of his. His arm now rested on your shoulder felt heavy, locking you in place. “The gist is one person- this case, being me- takes a hit, and then places their lips on the other person’s -being you- and exhales the smoke to them. That way I take the brunt of the hit, but you still get the reward. Sound good?” 

Everything was going in one ear out the other at this point, staring at his lips while he spoke. Nothing really landed, just bits and pieces of what he said. Did he say he was going to put his lips on yours? 

“Hey, sweetheart, you listening?” A soft tap to your jaw from one of his fingers. 

Your eyes snap up to his, catching the amused glint in them that he’s not even trying to hide. You could only focus on the happy buzz in your veins from the new pet name. Sweetheart.

“Mhmmm,” you lazily respond, not really knowing what you’re agreeing to, knowing full well that you weren’t listening. 

He knew too, but he wasn’t going to say anything. You were cute like this, he decided. What with the soft, dopey grin that you held, the way you didn’t even bother to hide your staring. All the things you were doing without even thinking- it seemed to draw him in further, though against his better judgement.

His fingers tapped softly on your jaw a moment longer, contemplating, before he shrugged his shoulders, mumbling a quiet ‘Fuck, alright then.’ With no hesitance, he pulled the joint to his mouth, taking a hit. Your eyes watched it like it was slow motion, his arm lowering almost like molasses. You hardly noticed his arm leave your shoulders until it’s hand held your cheeks, pressing just enough for your mouth to open. Your eyes are wide and startled, but he doesn’t seem to be worried. Only giving a reassuring, closed mouth grin, before closing the distance between you. 

The moment your lips touch feels all encompassing, overwhelming, and you’re not sure if it’s the good or bad kind. But you don’t have time to process it before smoke enters your mouth. Benji keeps his mouth on yours a moment longer, before pulling away, lifting your chin with his pointer and middle finger to shut your mouth. “You can hold that for me, yeah?” 

He said it like a question, but there was that look in his eyes again, like he really hoped you would just follow through. So, you do. You even inhale some along the way, the now familiar burn admittedly less harsh than before, but still making your eyes water. And he just watches you, smirk on his face as he takes another hit for himself, blowing it into the night air. 

But he’s not cruel, not really. The moment he sees a tear roll down your cheek, he removes his fingers from your chin, instead moving them to tap your cheek gently. “Go ahead and exhale, dude.” 

Somehow more light headed than before, you do, only letting out one soft cough this time. You leaned forward a bit to let your body relax, let out another breath, unconsciously just leaning into Benji now. Not that he seemed to mind; he had his arm still behind you, fully wrapping it around your shoulders now, rubbing a thumb slowly on the skin of your arm. You couldn’t muster any energy to hide the shiver that raced through you at the touch. 

“You really took that like a champ,” he cooed, his voice interrupting the silence making you flinch. His unoccupied hand moved to lift your face to his, thumb stroking your cheek. “Good job, sweetheart, very good job.” 

You melted under the praise, the hint of slight condescension below the surface of it going fully over your head. You didn’t even notice the joint absent from his hand, snuffed out and put to the side when you had been catching your breath. He knew you were already far past your limit- droopy eyes, slow movements, the only thing really keeping you physically upright was him-  it’s your first time after all. He wasn’t really going to have you smoke more, wouldn’t want you greened out. But he didn’t necessarily want this to be over either. The way you rested your body into him, seemed to give him full trust -even if you weren’t really in a clear headspace to do so-, it all was sending his mind reeling.

Surely, you wouldn’t mind if he kept going, right? In your state, he wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t notice the lack of smoke. 

“Ready for another one?” 

Your eyes widened- or as much as they could- at the proposition. The effects of your high had already taken a pretty strong effect, Benji almost sounded like he was talking to you from underwater. But he seemed to be a seasoned stoner. He would know if you had too much, he would stop, you convinced yourself. 

“Mhmm,” your voice barely breaks a whisper, “I’m ready.” 

There’s something in your voice, your eyes, and it’s making guilt tug at his chest. It reminds him of the blind trust that you have in him, and it keeps making his brain repeat over and over that you shouldn’t. Benji was by no means a bad guy, if anything, he could be overly empathetic, overly nice. But with the way you’re so pliant against him, just letting him cradle your face, already shutting your eyes and parting your lips for him? Jesus Christ, he was going to hate himself even more after this. 

He took advantage of your closed eyes, closing the distance between you again. The feeling of your lips on his this time, no smoke in the way, has him letting out a gruff sigh. If what he was doing was so wrong, why did it feel so fucking good? 

The hand on your shoulder moved down slowly to brace against your lower back, pushing you closer to him as his tongue licked into your already parted mouth, savoring the taste. A whimper sounds like it comes from you and he can already feel himself getting hard, determined to pull more sounds from you. 

He feels hands go to his chest, try to push him, but failing miserably. You just don’t have strength at the moment, do you? Your limbs are too heavy, and you swore your breath was being stolen by the way Benji was kissing you, Or was this shotgunning? Was this still shotgunning? You should’ve listened to him better. 

He finally pulled away, the hand previously on your cheek now held the back of your head, hair tangled around his fingers. His breathing was heavy, his lips were parted while his eye seemed to be dilated, pupils blown. “Sorry, sweetheart, shouldn’t have done that, I’m just-”

“Was that still shotgunning? I don’t think I tasted any smoke.” Your words were soft, slurred.

Benji paused completely at that. You weren’t… you really didn’t know what was going on? He had assumed you wouldn’t, but his assumption was more like a hope than anything. But, no. You just sat there with dazed, half-lidded eyes; not a single emotion behind them except confusion. Fuck, he felt sick at the sight, full regret blooming in him, and he hadn’t even really done anything yet. But no matter how disgusted he felt with himself, he couldn’t ignore the now steady throb of his cock against his thigh. 

So, he continued, nodding his head to reassure you. “Yeah, of course that was shotgunning, dude, you definitely got some.” 

You just nodded, eyes moving to shut again, mind clearly somewhere else. Benji really couldn’t handle the sight, especially with your relaxed lips parting again to take soft, steady breaths. He decides he’ll have to ask for forgiveness later, knowing he probably won’t get it. 

He dives in for another kiss, this one longer, less frenzied than the last one, more gentle. He takes his time, letting more time pass before licking your lip for entrance, rather than the urgent motions of before. Pleasantly surprised when you open your mouth further, he continues his exploration of your mouth, warmth shooting up his spine when he hears you let out a soft whine. That’s good, he thinks, you’re enjoying this too. 

In reality, your brain was too foggy to really move or say anything. If you opened your eyes, your vision flashed in snapshots, like you were seeing the world through pictures. It made your head throb. You really had no choice but to keep your eyes closed and stay silent, make small noises here and there while unfamiliar hands began to explore. You struggle to get any real air, gasping and taking in mouths full when Benji moves his lips to your neck instead. 

He’s beginning to get more impatient with his movements, even landing a small bite on your pulse that has you whimpering, his tongue licking the spot doing nothing to sooth you. It was too much, it all felt like too much. Benji doesn’t fully pay any mind to you, sliding a hand under your loose top as he lifts you carefully, readjusting his hoodie on the grass before laying you back on it. Though he seemed careful in how he adjusted it, you still felt the ground below you, twigs and acorns pushing against the fabric, into your back. 

You don’t even know when you started crying, but know you did as you hear Benji let out a soft ‘fuck’, a rough thumb suddenly wiping away at you cheek, cradling it. You clench your eyes tighter at the feeling, cursing your body for relaxing into the touch. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby,” he mutters, his other hand sliding further up your shirts to cup your breast, “it’ll be over soon, I promise.” 

He wipes a few more stray tears, pads of his fingers moving to your other cheek to wipe there too, before he goes for another kiss. Your lips meet just in time to smother an embarrassingly high squeal that you let out as he pinches your nipple, twisting it gently. That’s the thing- he’s trying to be so gentle with every movement, it has you between wanting to hate this and just leaning into it. 

When finally separates his lips from yours, he pushes your shirt over your breasts, tugging your bra with it. There’s a pause then. Silence, besides his labored breathing. You nearly crack your eyes open to look at him before you feel lips wrap around the already abused nipple, his hand going to play with the neglected one. The feeling sends a pleasured jolt down to your cunt that you can’t quite ignore. You try to rub your thighs together subtly to avoid him noticing, but no such luck. 

Benji caught the movement immediately, felt them shift from where he’s bracketed above you. “Hey, no need for that, I’ll take care of you,” he says, his hand wandering down, past your tummy. 

You feel foolish for even trying to hide. Of course he would notice. He might as well be sober and you were lying there, smothered in shame for feeling so boneless from your first high. 

Your body jolted with a strangled moan as you felt his hand slither even further, fingers pushing past the elastic of your leggings, the elastic of your panties. Benji just shushes you softly as his fingers move lower, his middle and index finger finding purchase on your sensitive clit. He doesn’t wait for more of a reaction, like you would somehow move away any second. He starts moving them in tight, slow circles on the bundle of nerves, dipping them into you every now and then as if it was a test. 

Fuck, it felt like one to him. He wanted you to feel good, he wanted you to be ready, but the soft wet sounds coming from your pussy along with the moans you were trying to hold back, had him at a near breaking point. He gave your pussy a few more teasing pumps of his fingers before retreating, his eyes snapping up to your face to see more tears fall down your cheeks, biting your lip to choke down a sob. 

His stomach churned at the sight. God, he couldn’t take it. 

He reached over to the half smoked joint he left by a tree trunk and fumbled in his pocket for his lighter. He choked on his own moan as his fingers grazed his erection through the pocket, but eventually found his lighter, putting it to the end of the joint. He lit it quickly, tossing the lighter aside to free himself from his jeans, clumsily pulling the denim down his thighs. His cock stood at attention, the leaky head slapping up against his clothes stomach. He could nearly cry with relief at the feeling.

As he situated above you, he used the position to push his jeans down to his ankles. His heart felt heavy as he was face to face with you again, but he did his best to fight the feeling. You were wet, you were enjoying this, you’re just confused.  

Balancing the joint between his lips he reached down to you, shimmying your leggings and panties off your legs, tossing them to the side before removing the joint from his mouth. He moves his right hand to your cheek, shushing again when you flinch. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry I’m scaring you,” he says softly, but voice thin. “I just- fuck- I just really need to be inside you, yeah? ‘M gonna make you feel good too, don’t worry.” 

You could only let out a pathetic whimper, watching with bleary eyes as he took a quick hit of the joint, him putting his lips quickly on yours as he slowly slid into your cunt. You sucked in a harsh breath, though it didn’t do any good as you were just breathing in the smoke he was passing on. He waited until he was fully sheathed in you before removing his lips and burying his face where your neck met your shoulders. 

Panting out heavy breaths into your skin, his hips moved on their own, short shallow thrusts. He doesn’t move to silence you when you start to make soft moans, harsh whines. Just reaching a hand up to hold the back of your head, gripping the hair there, much tighter than before. 

“Fuck, feels so good, fucking perfect,” he mumbles almost incoherently, pressing quick, sloppy kisses to your neck. His other hand moved to your waist, gripping tightly, as if there were any chance you could really move. 

Smoke left your lips in soft breaths, mingling with the night air and the noises you let escape with each thrust. The sudden intrusion had hurt at first, too much, an overwhelming pressure that made your head spin. Everything was spinning, clenching your eyes shut didn’t even seem to help with the head throb that persisted, you could nearly hear the pounding in your ears. The only sounds breaking through were Benji’s soft grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin, the latter speeding up as the seconds passed. 

A steady pressure began to build in your belly, a warmth that you hated but couldn’t ignore. Your body wasn’t catching up with your brain, screaming at it to stop. Your skin felt like it was burning from the pressure, your voice involuntarily letting out its first real moan as Benji’s hand moved from your hair to palm your breast. 

His ears perked up at the sound, almost relieved. Moving from your neck where he was leaving wet kisses, he positions himself to look down at you again, red rimmed eyes holding that same soft look from earlier. You’d feel comforted if it weren’t for the feeling of his cock already deep inside you. You wanted to hide the effect he was having- maybe make him think the moan was in his imagination- but you couldn’t hide how your mouth suddenly dropped at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot, head falling back into the grass. 

“There you go, just feel it, sweetheart,” he said softly, his unoccupied hand skating downwards, starting up quick motions again on your clit, “promised you it’d feel good.” 

As hard as you tried to fight it, a few quick movements from his fingers had you letting out a silent scream, pushing you over the edge. It felt intense- too much, it’s all too much- your arms wanting to wrap around him, clutch his shirt, push his hand away from your clit, but they were too heavy to move. You felt helpless, your cunt clenching and unclenching around him, while you couldn’t even react. Just wait until it’s over. 

Benji let out a guttural moan as you came, hips moving faster, at an almost bruising pace. He gave you some reprieve, letting his hand move from your clit to your hip. He wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t a monster, he could see how overstimulated you were. Seeing how your body twitched, more silent tears falling. He didn’t want to hurt you, honest, he just wanted his own release. 

With a few more frantic thrusts, he finally hit his release, spilling into you with a whiney grunt. 

You both lay there for what feels like forever but it’s more likely to be a few minutes. Silence consumes the space around you, save for his slowing breaths and a few crickets chirping from the trees beside you. When he finally moves, he slides his softening cock from you with a hiss, his cum leaking from your abused pussy. Then he finally gets a good look at you, without lust clouding him. 

You almost looked… peaceful? He wasn’t naive enough to think that was really the case, but that’s how you look. Naked from the waist down, shirt and bra crumbled over your breasts, your head lulling to the side in the grass. The only sounds you made now were soft whines, though even those were starting to taper off, eyes shut and brows furrowed, as if you were having a bad dream. He felt regret pierce him as he remembered that he was the bad dream. 

He pulled up his jeans silently before beginning to gently clean you up. He made quick work of it, putting your legs into your leggings before pulling them back to your waist, trapping his cum against your folds with the fabric. He lets out a soft ‘it’s okay’ when you weakly try to push away. Moves your bra back into place, pulling your shirt back down. He even tries to gently undo a few knots in your hair, picking out a blade of grass here and there with shaky hands. The guilt is eating him alive at this point, settling so deep in his stomach that he feels like he might throw up. 

But he can’t change anything, not really. He did what he did, couldn’t take it back. All he could really do is apologize, over and over again, until he felt like it was enough. Though, what would constitute as enough? 

He watches as you fully drift off, hesitating before lying on the grass beside you, pulling you to his chest. You barely make a noise, just settle limply into his arms. So he begins his mission- mumbling apologies into your hair, tightening his hold on you to try and get his words across, as if that will resolve his actions. 

He knows it won’t. But it made him feel better to try. 

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