#bursona x reader

you didn't even really consider him a friend, sure you guys shared a class but you hadn't exactly hung out. you never saw him at parties or school events, just occasionally at the library or walking down the halls. despite being so unsocial he stood out since he was so tall and thin, more than a head above the crowds even though he slouched.

he seemed pleasant enough though, if a little quiet. he never spoke to anyone in class, and only answered questions when prompted by the teacher. his grades were the highest in the class but he looked like he could faint when anyone attempted to talk to him.

but when you posted in the university community page about wanting to move out of the dorms and into an apartment, he was somehow the best applicant. he had plenty of money, his grades were impeccable and he promised not to throw parties or bring anyone around. he already lived off campus in a modest two bedroom apartment and explained that his previous roommate had moved out to take care of a sick family member in another state.

so you moved in, and he was happy to help carry boxes and help you settle in. it didn't seem like a bad deal, maybe even perfect. living with someone quiet who keeps to themselves so you could focus on your classes instead of arguing with your old dormmates that were slowly driving you crazy.

you didn't think he would make any effort to spend time with you or even be friends, but he found a excuses to be close to you almost immediately. you knew he wasn't used to talking to girls (or anyone really), he told you about how every other girl at school avoided him like the plague. you don't really blame them, he stares a little too long and sits a little too close. he doesn't blink enough, fingers twitching like he's holding himself back from touching.

his bedroom wall is next to your own, and whoever designed the cheap apartment must have been an exhibitionist because you could hear everything. his fingers on the keyboard, how he'd mutter and giggle to himself while he was alone. worst of all was how often he would masturbate, it would have been impressive if it wasn't so sad.

at least four times a day you would hear it, the faint squeak of his bed as he whimpered and cried pathetically. it almost sounded like he was in pain, breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. sometimes you could hear him whine your name, muffled as though he had his face buried in the pillows so you wouldn't hear him.

outside of that wil was a fine roommate. never late on chores, didn't complain when you came home late, spent majority of his time locked up in his room. you had started to notice some things when you'd come home, though. your bed made when you swear you didn't when you left, or those earrings you complained about losing finding their way onto your bedside table by morning.

after one of his late night self-love sessions woke you up again, it pushed you over. you'd been so busy with school and your job there was no time for dating, even going out to a bar for a hook up was too much work. so you told him you'd take his virginity to take the edge off, help him relax.

you'd hoped it would fix him, satisfy that desperate urge inside and make him man up a bit. of course, it wasn't that simple. if anything it was worse. no girl had shown him anything close to positive attention, and now he was needing your help to cum because his right had didn't feel the same

and it wasn't like the sex was bad it was just... a lot. he went a little too fast, fingers pressed into your hips until it bruised because he just had no self control. moaning loudly, telling you how thankful he was and how much he needed you. even when you reminded him you weren't his girlfriend and to stop calling you pet names and professing his undying love, he would just smile innocently then pout until you let him touch you again.

now you're lying in bed looking at the sorry excuse for a man who woke up with morning wood he was desperate to have you fix.

"fuck off, i haven't even woken up yet." you said dismissively, glancing up at him before returning to scrolling your phone.

he whines, taking a few steps inside and kneeling beside your bed like a puppy. he was trying desperately to look at your face, but his eyes kept darting down to your bare legs, you were still wearing the oversized shirt and panties you'd slept in.

"it's ok, i'll do all the work darling! you don't have to raise a finger, you'll feel so relaxed afterwards you can go right back to sleep." he said with a smile, running his tongue across his teeth.

you scoff. "i'm not your cumdump, wil. what's in it for me? because based on your track record, it isn't orgasms." you say in a flat tone, smirking at his defeated expression and blush.

he had been very embarrassed by his stamina and inability to last with you, always saying it was just too good. and he'd managed to give you a few orgasms, but his lack of experience was evident in his technique.

"i'll vacuum the whole house- and mop! then order take out for lunch, from that burger place you like." he said quickly, gripping the edge of your bed as he subtly leaned further onto the mattress.

you chuckle, using your foot to push at his forehead to get him off. instead he grabbed your ankle, holding you in place as he licked at the sole of your foot causing you to squeal.

"ew! that tickles you freak!" you say between laughs but he just continued to press a few kisses along your foot. he looked at you with such adoration you swore his pupils were turning into hearts.

"please, pretty? can't help myself, you're so perfect down to your toes. wanna worship my queen, my girl, my gorgeous amazing beatiful-" he's rambling now, mumbling praise between wet kisses to your foot.

with a dejected sigh you pull your leg away and roll onto your belly, continuing to scroll your phone as you hide your grin. "fine, but i'm not moving from this spot. and if you take too long or say anymore of that romantic crap i'm kicking you out."

you've barely gotten the words out before wilbur's scrambling up onto the bed and pressing your body into the bed with his much larger one. his impressive height, all long legs and skinny arms as he nuzzles into the back of your head.

"thank you! i promise you won't regret it." he said with a big grin, inhaling deeply. "can't help praising you, you are just so perfect." he murmured, his knees on either side of your hips. you could feel the outline of his dick through his sweatpants, already leaking and staining the fabric.

"so f-fuckin' pretty.. smell so good." he's grinning as he nuzzles at your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply and tugging down your underwear until it bunched around your knees.

his hands are shaking and he's still stuttering compliments as he manages to get his sweatpants low enough to free his cock. long and curved upward, you don't even have to look back to imagine the tip flushed an adorable pink and already dripping pre in anticipation.

"i'll be quick, b-but you'll still have fun!" he assures you, one hand gripping the fat of your ass to hold you open so he can spit messily on your slit. you're regrettably already wet, finding his pathetic desperation for you annoyingly arousing and flattering. not that you'd ever say anything because if he got any type of ego he would be even more obsessive.

"heh.. such a pretty kitty. s-so wet f' me... you n-needed this too?" wil giggles, a long finger sliding up and down your cunt before pressing inside with little resistance. "fuck.. always so damn tight- p-perfect fuckhole."

you groan, more of irritation at his cringe dirty talk than arousal as he began to finger you at a quick and messy pace. his eyes glued to your spread cheeks and pussy, drool pooling in his mouth as he used his legs to keep yours open and pinned to the bed even though you were making no effort to move away.

a second finger slides in and he remembers your regular reminders of the importance of clitoral stimulation so he manoeuvre his wrist so he can clumsily rub your clit.

the buzz of pleasure is by no means unpleasant, but it isn't nearly enough to start working you towards an orgasm. "shit, such a messy girl. l-leaking everywhere, c-can you hear y' kitty purrin' f' me?" he says proudly in response to the wet sounds of his long fingers probing your insides.

"you're disgusting, wil." you scoff, still scrolling your phone despite his best efforts to draw your attention and bring you to bliss. "stop referring to my body parts as animals, it's weird."

he whines, hips rutting against the back of your thighs and his hand gripping your ass massaging and squeezing the plump flesh. his fingers dig into your skin roughly, blunt nails jiggling the cheeks so he can watch it jiggle and bounce against his fast moving hand.

"b-but it's so cute like a kitten! don't even mind when its a lil' furry, s-so adorable." he pouts, hand speeding up in an attempt to impress you. "always w-wants pats 'n kisses from me like a n-needy pet."

without looking back you reach behind to grab his arm, digging your nails in and pulling his hand off you. the pain and surprise makes him yelp but he gets the message and moves up your body to straddle the back of your hips.

"s-sorry, baby. just can't help myself heh... c-could play with this gorgeous body aaalllll day~" he draws out the last words as he grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few long strokes, whimpering at the feeling of his own hand.

"just fuck me already, you're lucky i'm giving you a few minutes considering your current behaviour." you scold him, replying to a text message from a friend as he lines himself up and shoves inside.

the surprise penetration causes you to let out a small moan which doesn't go unnoticed by wil, who cages your smaller body with his own and starts fucking you hard and fast like he always does. one hand gripping your hip and the other pressing down between your shoulder blades, his eyes not moving from the sight of his bare cock sliding in and out of you.

"fuck, i told you to wear condoms. you never pull out and leave a huge mess for me to deal with." you complain, fingers pausing on your phone screen as his length manages to grind against your sweet spot with each forward thrust.

"s-sorry pretty, was just- uuugh, god- rushin' too m-much. it's y-your fault, told me to be q-quick." he says between loud moans and desperate whines. his blunt nails dig into you, the room filling with the sound of skin slapping as he gets harder and faster.

the rest of your complaints die in your throat as he lies down on your back completely, subtle chest muscles pressing into your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. his breath hot against your skin, even his quietest whimpers audible due to the close proximity.

"so good f'me, p-pretty girl... love m' cock, dontcha baby?" he moans, jaw hanging open and panting against your skin as he ruts into you like an animal. his enthusiasm and size means his dripping cockhead his repeatedly bumping against your g-spot with every slam of his hips, your vision blurring and fingers fumbling on your phone screen as you admit defeat and close the app since you wouldn't be able to manage a voice note in this state.

a large hand slides under your arm and around your ribs, groping your tit while his weight keeps your chest pinned to the bedsheets. you can feel wil drooling, as though he can't even close his mouth due to the overwhelming sensations.

"f-fuck, stop drooling." you whine, turning your head to the side to dodge his attempts to kiss your flushed cheeks. "gonna have to change the sheets again, you prick."

the side of your face presses into the bed, eyes squeezed shut and biting back moans while his fingers clumsily tweak your nipple. the angle is awkward and he can hardly move his wrist because of how you're lying, and his inability to restrain himself has him tugging almost painfully on the sensitive bud.

"s-sorry m' love- change it- i can change it later." he can barely string together a full sentence with all his brain power being focused on you. you. you.

the feeling of your sweaty skin sliding and sticking to his own. the smell of your body odour since you haven't showered today mixing with sweat and arousal that's just pouring from your pussy. the sound of his bony hips meeting your ass and his dick spreading your folds with every thrust.

wil audibly slurps and manages some self preservation to sit up so he can take his hand off of you and wipe at his mouth and chin that is currently dripping with his own drool. his mouth is still full of saliva, a hunger that isn't satiated even while he's inside you.

"m' sorry, s-so sorry. nnngh lemme jus' make it up to y'." stumbling through his words he sits back on his knees, straightening up and using his grip on your breast as leverage to pull you from prone bone into doggy style.

you can't pretend the change in angle and depth isn't satisfying, a low moan rolling off your tongue. despite his slim build, his strength constantly surprised you. for someone who's diet consisted of toast and coffee without a workout routine, he still managed to move your body with ease. not that you ever really gave him the opportunity to show it off considering you chastised him when he was too rough.

except for now, your usual brattiness is humbled by his grip on the front of your thighs as he pulls you onto his shaft with every deep thrust.

his rhythm is steadier now, but harder and purposeful. each press forward has his engorged cockhead grinding against your sweet spot before slamming into your cervix. clearly he's trying to prove something and impress you. to your disappointment, it's working.

"y' like that, huh? p-pretty girl lovin' how i fuck her?" he whines, searching for your praise and reassurance even as your inner walls clench and quiver around him. "n-not mad at me any more, yeah?"

you whimper, a sound he's already memorising and saving in the back of his mind for the next time he jerks off, shifting your weight to your elbows so you can arch your back and bounce your hips back. he lets out a sound somewhere between a whine and a sob, watching as your ass jiggles with the impact.

"f-fuck yeah... such hahh a g-good ass, holy shit. p-perfect.." he keeps a hand gripping your thigh open but the other slides up to pull your cheeks apart once more so he can get that fraction deeper inside. the thick base of his cock hitting your sensitive folds that are reddening due to the rough fucking you're enduring.

"pretty girl, you love my cock b-baby? please, mmnph- tell me y' love it. p-please-" he whimpered, begging desperately for your praise. just to hear you say something nice to him, something kind compared to the insults and bullying you directed at him regularly.

not willing to give him the satisfaction despite his objectively good performance, you instead brace your hands on the mattress and press back fully to mess up his rhythm. the change in position leaves him unable to pull out more than an inch or two, forcing him to rut quickly and pathetically into you.

he cries out, leaning forward to arch over your back and wrap an arm around your waist. rocking his hips deeply and sliding his hand down your stomach until his fingers find your swollen clit.

"puh-lease, p-pretty girl. why y' hate me s' much?" he sobbed, clumsily rubbing your clit and pressing wet kisses up your spine. "pussy so fuckin' wet, so messy f'me... you know is f'me, baby. jus' tell me y' lovin' how i'm fuckin' ya."

your juices are dribbling down his balls, both your thighs slick with arousal as he continued begging and circling your clit with an annoyingly addictive rhythm. you feel incredible, the deep grinds of his dick stretching you out and reaching deeper than your toys or any previous partners have. you swear you can feel his tip leaking copious amounts of pre and stuffing you fuller.

in all honestly he is fucking you perfectly, white hot pleasure bubbling under your skin and racing down your veins as the orgasm that has been building grows closer and closer. you hate to admit it, give the perverted bastard the satisfaction, but fuck. he's good. and you really do love his cock.

"s' good, wil." you say, gritting your teeth so your words aren't a garbled moan. giving him a tiny bit of reassurance, even though he arguably deserves you screaming his name and begging him to make you cum. "love your cock, s-so deep. feels good."

your words barely leave your lips before he is practically squealing with joy, shifting his legs so his knees press on the inside of your own and spreading you wider. he keeps that same repetitive and rough rhythm with his hips and his hand which is now dripping with your slick to slide lower on where you are connected. he makes a v with his fingers to prop your folds open, the movements of his hips and wrist mirroring each other so his palm can grind against your swollen nub.

you have no idea where he learned that technique, briefly imagining him watching porn and hentai for tips, before the mounting pleasure drives any thoughts out of your mind other than him. him. him.

"fuck y-yes, knew it! you l-love my cock, baby. thas' why you take m' so well. ughh- perfect kitty, need me to keep her purrin' and soaked." wil groaned, voice lowering an octave. as though a switch had been flipped from your brief words of encouragement, he's suddenly much rougher and meaner as he pounds your tight hole.

some part of you wants to shout some snarky remark, tell him to pull out, so you can get on top, slap him across the face and degrade him to remind him of his place. how such a pathetic, perverted fucking loser he is.

he doesn't deserve your attention; let alone the privilege to fuck you raw. realistically, he should be thanking the heavens for the fact you let him share a room with you.

considering the morning after moving in he'd already taken the used panties and leggings you'd worn while unpacking from your laundry hamper within the hour of you setting it up in your new room. later after some probing questions (with your hand gripping his collar as he whimpered and fell to his knees in the kitchen) he admitted between sniffles they were stuffed in his pillowcase so he could smell you while he slept.

maybe you should have called your mum and asked to sleep on her couch for the rest of the semester or crawled back to that ex with a nice apartment so you didn't have to spend anymore time with such a freak.

and yet, you chose to stay with him- after you'd grabbed him by his brown curls and pinned the back of his head against the lower kitchen cabinets, pressing your panty-clad cunt against his nose and let him enjoy the fresh scent of your cunt from the source all the while begging for forgiveness.

and then by the second week and you walked by his open bedroom door and smelt yourself, after some investigating (which definitely wasn't you shoving him onto the carpet and digging your food into his balls until he confessed) you realised he had been using your beauty products religiously so his skin, hair and clothes carried your scent. he'd even went out of his way to buy a copy of your signature perfume so he could spray himself and his bed whenever he wanted.

and of course after that first month with nights (and mornings, afternoons, evenings...) hearing him lewdly moan your name as he wanked multiple times a day, and you practically kicked down his door to shut him up. by sitting on his face until you came twice. then his cock for a third and fourth. he was quiet by the end of that, considering he was drooling and couldn't keep his eyes open as he fell asleep sitting upright.

so maybe if you took a moment to self reflect on your recent behaviour and continued involvement in his life you would realise you were just as much of a perverted freak as wil was.

but with his nine inch dick deep in your pussy as he rearranged your insides, you weren't thinking much of anything.

"p-pretty girl, my pretty fuckin' girl. all mine, jus' me, yeah? no one fucks this kitty better than me." wilbur smirked, motivated by your encouragement he used his size and strength to overpower your body and treated you like a sex doll.

"never see ya bring no one a-around our place, n-not even -unghh, shit- your lil' friends. not ashamed 'f me, are you? jus' love my big dick so m-much you gotta keep us a secret." he laughed, the sound strained in his throat as he let his possessive thoughts spill out of his mouth. "don't want no one else to f-feel this good, that r-right baby? you're so cute when you're jealous."

"not one fuckin' boyfriend visitin' ya since moving, no stupid jocks or frat boys touchin' ya kitty. ya don't talk to them, r-right? n-no other boys ya seein' behind my back, y' promise?" his hand holding your hip somehow tightened its impossibly firm grip even harder, no doubt leaving bruises for him to fawn over tomorrow. "i'll fuckin' kill em, any guy lookin' at my girl. s'all mine, my girlfriend."

"it's 'cause i'm all you need, yeah? jus' me n' you pretty girl. i keep my gorgeous- f-fuck, mmphh, goddamn- gorgeous girlfriend happy with my big fuckin' cock. fill up her n-needy kitty, make her purr 'n lovin' on her just how she likes." as wil spoke, his hips didn't slow for a moment. dick harder than steel, thick globs of pre finding a home inside you with every deep thrust as he got closer to his own orgasm.

you were approaching your own without any choice, thighs quivering and clit hardening as it throbbed against his palm. every movement grinded the hypersensitive nub against his hand, each pounding thrust of his length pressing into your g spot perfectly.

"s-so tight, my love. such a perfect kitty, made f'me, only me. ya took my virginity, 'n my heart baby. all yours, love makin' you happy. jus' like how- s-shit you keep me happy." he lets out a breathless laugh, body almost working on auto pilot. as though having sex with you was as easy as breathing.

your body on the other hand doesn't even feel like your own, it's his. the way he keeps the perfect amount of pressure on your clit and pulls you onto his member every time he slams his hips forward. the pleasure is mind numbing. your limbs have practically gone limp, eyes rolling back as you force your lips to move and throat to do anything but moan.

"g-gonna cum." you stutter, the whimpering tone feels foreign on your tongue but its the best you can do as your tummy muscles tighten in preparation of your climax. "wil- ughhh, please"

even though your voice is so strained and barely audible over the schlick schlick schlick from your hole being reshaped to the size of his girth and applause of skin meeting skin, he hears you. he feels you. he has you.

there's no hesitation when your pleading inspires some inhuman strength and stamina within his thin body as he finds a way to fuck you harder, his check practically glued to your spine. keeping his talented fingers right where you need them, rubbing dreamy circles so quickly against your sensitive clit.

"yes yes yes- good girl, m-my pretty girl. cum, gonna cum? f-fuck, tightening up on me! god, mmnnggh- cum, p-please. cum f'me, pretty girl." he's pleading now, mouth open against your shoulder blade. his dick throbbing, on the edge of his own orgasm but he would rather never cum again than mess up this orgasm for you.

as your pleasure reaches the top, crashing down and through your body like a waterfall- overwhelming and all encompassing. every muscle pulls in tight for a few long seconds, eyes crossing and mouth agape as you cum.

"f-fuck baby- god, y-yes! thas' it, p-pretty girl, cum f'me, make a mess of my cock." before his own orgasm has it, he is already experiencing bliss at the feeling of your impossibly wet and tight pussy convulsing around him along with the knowledge that he is the one who's brought you this pleasure.

his hips stutter but continue to to move. while fingers clumsily sliding back and fourth quickly over your folds as your juices begin to dribble down his wrist, then your squirting.

you are barely aware of the fact because of the mind-numbing orgasm itself, but seeing and feeling it wil's balls drawing up in anticipation of his own climax. he cries out your name, tears bubbling in the corners of his eyes. pressing himself as deep as he can in your cunt as clear sprays from you in messy streams.

the same moment thick ropes of potent seed shoot into your cervix, he bites down on the back of your neck hard. his teeth digging into the skin, any other time would have made you cry out in pain but in the throes of passion it only heightens the pleasure and makes you sob and squirt even harder.

his long arms are locked around your middle, hand still sliding across your cunt with an open palm to force out every spurt of your cum. his own is flooding your quivering hole in violet pulses, cock throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat which is matched with each ejaculation.

its hot, viscous and unmistakably virile. his earlier promise to pull out is forgotten along with your birth control which he keeps 'misplacing' while cleaning.

"l-love you, mummy. m' pretty girl, love you s' much. take all 'f that cum, thas' it... gonna stick this time..." he mumbled, words slurred against your skin as he lazily licks across the indents from his teeth. "t-took me so well, y' so full of me, huh? such a messy girl, mmmnng, love you... gonna make such a g-good mama"

your limbs have long since gone limp and find yourself lying flat on your bed with wil lying across your back, still mumbling about his love for you while his eyes are already closing. he hadn't even attempted to pull out, his pelvis practically glued to your ass as he continued to cum. its slower now, but his dick seems adamant to pump as much sperm inside you as possible even as he is half asleep.

your own orgasm has settled into a comfortable hum, aftershocks causing you to tighten around his throbbing length causing him to whine and momentarily tighten his grip on your waist.

in what could have been minutes or hours, your mind clears the orgasmic fog and brings you back to reality; wil is draped across your back and keeping you pinned to the bed with his entire body weight, your womb practically plump with his load since he was still half hard inside you, your entire body is covered with sweat and aches.

the sudden silence in the room is jarring, the earlier sounds of sex now the faint hum of your computer which is still running on sleep mode at your desk and wil breathing heavily with his face pressed into the back of your neck.

"wil?"

no response, he doesn't even twitch.

"wilbur?"

still nothing, his body is entirely limp and breathing steady.

".... pretty boy?"

"yes, my love?"

you can feel him grinning as he nuzzles deeper into the space between your shoulder and neck, hands trailing up and down your sides. he seems content to stay inside and on top of you forever.

"get off, i can barely breath." you groan, shifting underneath him as he giggles at your predicament. he is in no rush as he pushes himself up with his arms, looking down at where you are still connected.

he doesn't move further, so you pull yourself forward on the bed so he slips out of you well used hole, rolling your eyes at his pathetic whining behind you.

wincing slightly you move to sit with your back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and cracking the joints in your neck with a satisfied groan. his eyes are on the puddle of juices on the sheets, trailing across the fabric and up your thighs to where you are still leaking.

"you're cleaning my bed, i hope you know." you sigh, reaching for your phone to see if your friend had responded to your earlier message. post nut clarity is a powerful thing, and now you're needing space from the manchild that just put his heart and sole into loving you.

he's pouting. you don't have to look up from your screen to know, you can basically hear the puppy dog eyes he's burning into your still very naked body only a few feet away from him.

not giving him the satisfaction of even a teasing comment you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, shaking slightly as you feel another wave of spunk dribble down the inside of your thighs and stain your skin. you grimace at the sight and feeling, especially knowing you've missed taking your birth control the last week since you couldn't find the container- and now looking at the seemingly endless amount still leaking and no doubt settling inside you, you you're regretting not organising that doctor's appointment for a new prescription.

if you gave it any thought when you weren't in a post-orgasm haze, you'd put together the fact that wilbur was always making excuses and 'accidentally' forgetting to buy condoms or 'failing' to pull out (or in one recent case when you'd only let him straddle your legs and jerk himself off to the sight of your naked body- only to shove the tip of his dick inside your hole right as he came) in time.

maybe you would have actually paid his dirty talk any mind, noticing how often he'd call you 'mama' or 'mummy' as he finished, even if he was wearing a condom or spilling down your throat.

or perhaps you'd find his ever growing collection of your birth control pills he had been taking from the bathroom and your bedside table when you weren't home. you blamed your messy room and disorganisation as the boxes grew dust in a shoebox at the back of his wardrobe.

instead your mind is currently preoccupied with your friend texting you about a classmate who's apparently sleeping with the professor to get a higher grade while cheating on her boyfriend who's been seen snogging his cousin at a party last night, along with washing off the sweat and spunk of your roommate that still clings to you.

"i'm gonna go shower, these sheets better be in the laundry and fresh ones put back on when i get back." you say in a firm tone, eyes finally meeting his for the first time since before he slid inside you from behind which felt like a lifetime ago.

"b-but pretty girl, d-don't you wanna snuggle a bit first?" he gives you a hopeful smile, already reaching across the mattress to try and grab your hand and pull you back to bed. "you smell so good after we fuck, all sweaty and l-like me. then your awesome boyfriend can join you in the shower for round two-"

you slap him across the face before walking out of the room.

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You pushed Wilbur onto the ground, the grass laying ever so softly against his skin. You grabbed your dagger from it's handle and put it up to his neck, making eye contact with him.

His expression was still so relaxed and soft, smiling sweetly towards you. You hated it, you hated him.

"You look so pretty like this, darling."

You blinked rapidly, eyes widening at his comment. You subconsciously pulled the dagger back to his collarbone.

Your heart started to race and your face became hot, it must've been because of how much you hated him, you hated him so much that your entire body reacted with anger.

He was still staring at you so softly, so sweetly. You didn't understand, you had a literal killing object in your hands ready to stab him.

"You do realize I could kill you at any moment, right?" He just hummed, smile growing even more. "I'm aware."

You watched him closely as his hand traveled from the grass to the side of your face, his hands were rough but still somehow so soft.

You grabbed his wrist firmly and tried to move his arm away, but he had no plans of leaving your touch anytime soon.

you'd come to one of his sermon's for help, needing guidance. you life seemed aimless, you didn't have many prospects in your life. you didn't finish highschool, never held a job longer than a few months, and found yourself on the wrong side of the law more times than you could count. your parents were at the end of their rope, and said they'd cut you of completely if you didn't change soon.

they were big fans of pastor gold and his teachings, they'd spent so much money on his services they had to sell their house and move into a small apartment. you thought it was all a scam, it was too good to be true. but they pushed you to try, to believe. at this point, what did you have to lose?

that's how you found yourself at one of his sermons. the crowd was alight, the people beside you were clapping and crying, you couldn't tell if it was joy or dispair. you tried to keep the bewildered expression off your face as you tried to clap when it was appropriate so you didn't stand out.

not that it helped, really. you caught pastor gold's eye quickly. it was like he could smell your confusion, his eyes finding yours in the middle of the crowd. it made your blood run cold, like you'd broken some sort of unspoken rule, irritated him somehow.

but when it was over and you tried to leave with the rest of the crowd, one of his security grabbed your arm and asked you to stay behind. you tried to stutter out an excuse but it was clear no wasn't an answer they'd accept. they brought you down a long corridor lined with posters and accolades from his career, painted portraits of him in that same blue suit he always wore.

once inside his office, you didn't even have time to turn around and ask what was happening before the security had left and shut the door, leaving you alone. well, for the most part.

there was something about the way he looked at you, really looked at you. like he could see your soul. it was terrifying, but it made you feel important in a way you hadn't before. the way he spoke was smoother than silk, you found yourself hanging onto every word, unlike the confusion you'd felt earlier during the sermon.

it didn't take long for him to get you to open up, telling him details about your life your parents didn't even know about. you cried and he pulled you against his chest, a large hand cradling the back of your head as he assured you it would be okay. you were broken, but you could be fixed; you just needed some help from him. and he was more than willing.

that's why it didn't take much convincing to get you sat on his desk, your skirt pushed up around your hips as he whispered promises of salvation into your ear. perhaps if you weren't so desperate you'd poke holes in his logic, question his methods, but you wanted to believe him. and so, you did.

"you've lived a life of sin, but i can see that your heart, your soul, is still pure." he said, hands moving to rest atop your thighs. the cold of his rings making you shiver. "you just need to be cleansed. don't worry, my angel. you will be saved."

his thumbs dipped between your thighs, spreading your legs wider so he could slot his hips between your knees. you were shaking, heartbeating so loud you thought he could hear it.

"how many men have fucked you?" he asked bluntly, fingers pressing a little harder into the plush flesh. you blush, tilting your head to the side to hide your expression.

"uh.. a few, maybe three or four?" you answer awkwardly. you'd had a few partners in your life, but nothing serious. mostly casual flings so you'd have a warm bed to sleep in until they got sick of you.

he hummed, you couldn't tell if he was displeased with your answer. his hands slid up your thighs further, finger tips brushing the underside of your skirt that was bunched up around your hips.

"i can smell their stain on your skin." he spat out the words, one hand lifting from your leg to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze as he looked down at you. he towered over you, and with the overhead light behind him it made him look ethereal.

"but that past, those mistakes, do not define you. with my help, you will be clean." he said, giving you a smile. his lips curled over his teeth that were just a little too white. his thumb swiped across your lips and instinctively you opened your mouth. his smile somehow widened.

"so obedient. you know you need me, don't you? you came to my sermon because i was supposed to find you." he grinned as his hand slid down the side of your neck to grip your throat, not enough to hurt but still firm. controlling. demanding submission you were already so willing to give.

"y-yes, i came to get help. to f-find faith." you stuttered and his grip tightened slightly. if he wasn't between your legs you would have squeezed them together, shameful arousal building between your legs.

"exactly, darling. you see now, don't you? you are broken, but with my help you shall be whole again and stronger than before." he chuckled, the hand on your thigh sliding up until he was pushing your skirt up your waist, the bare skin of your thighs against the cold wood of his desk.

he hummed as his hand slowly found it's way between your legs, cupping your heat through your underwear. you whimpered and squirmed but he squeezed your throat for a moment, a wordless command to stay still and be patient.

his gaze remained locked on your face as his fingers rubbed against your heat, the fabric already soaked through. he circled your clit gently, teasingly, you whined and he licked his lips.

"your body knows i'm here to help, that's why you're so wet. this need, it doesn't make you sinful. it means you're ready for salvation." his smile was sickeningly sweet, and all you could do was nod like the dumb, gullible idiot you were.

when he moves to pull your panties down you obediently lift your hips to aid him, and the fabric is shoved in his pocket- not before he raises it to his nose and inhales deeply.

his hands a back on you now, one holding your waist while the other returns to the apex of your thighs. you're dripping, you couldn't remember being this aroused before with any previous partner and he had hardly started. maybe it was his sense of authority, or the fact that under that fake tan and terrible haircut he would be quite handsome, or maybe god was real and he was blessing you with his touch.

a long finger slides up the length of your slit and you cry out, hips jumping to get more pressure. your moan is cut short as he gripped your throat again, this time tighter. your breathing strained, but it only turned you on more.

"be still, my angel. you want me to stop? you want me to leave you broken and filthy?" he snapped and you shook your head, tears bubbling in the corners of your eyes. his expression softened immediately but his grip remained on your neck. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"don't fear the tears, that is natural. it's your body expelling all the sin, that's why you're dripping." he said casually, like the words he's saying make any logical sense. but he speaks with such conviction you just nod and let him continue.

his finger returns to your swollen clit and circling it slowly. you bite your lip to muffle the pathetic sounds you keep making, although its a losing battle when he lowers his finger to circle your entrance once before pressing inside.

you gasp, the feeling of his cold, metal rings inside you is shocking but not unpleasant. he doesn't thrust, instead pressing deep and curving his finger to rub against your walls. he rotates his wrist so he can rub his palm against your clit.

"so warm and tight." he murmurs, finger probing deep until he finds that spongey spot that makes your back arch. once he finds it he massages it with expert precision.

you're a mess, moans slipping past your lips as he holds your throat to keep you in place. you're dripping arousal now, leaking down his hand and wrist messily. you're confident there must be a puddle on his desk by now.

he continues to torture you with just one ringed finger, the pleasure is intense but not enough to get you off. it keeps you on the edge, makes your legs go numb and brain stop functioning so all you can focus on is him.

you gasp when he pulls his hand away, bringing it up to his face to study it. he shows it to you, the way your juices cling to the rings and slide down the curves of his hand should be disgusting but he seems pleased with your reaction.

"see this? this is all that filth inside you, desperate to be released. you feel it, don't you? that desperate need to let it all out." he explained, still gripping your throat as you nod pathetically. all you could think about was finishing, letting go of that tight feeling in your stomach. you knew he meant an orgasm, but the way he spoke made it sound like some sort of religious experience.

with his hand on your neck he guided you to lie back on his desk, a few of the vhs boxes dig into your back but you don't complain. he gets to his knees and spreads your legs wide. his hand is still slick with your arousal as he leans in close and inhales deeply.

"mhm, you smell so sweet. i knew you would, when i saw you in the crowd. i could smell it from my podium." he comments as his thumbs spread your folds wide, watching as your hole leaks pathetically and your clit practically throbs for his touch to return. "that's how i knew you could be saved, darling. that on the inside you're still pure and sweet."

you don't have time to respond before his mouth is on you. it's slow and sloppy, you can hear his lips smack as he licks and sucks down your juices. you choke back moans, cupping a hand over your mouth to try and stay quiet as his tongue explores your most intimate place.

"let it all out, angel, let him hear you." he murmured against your hot flesh, groaning as another rush of your arousal coats his tongue and drips down his chin.

him, he means god you realise. somehow the shame of knowing you are being watched by the religious figure only arouses you more and so you throw your head back and stop let out every pathetic sound, much to pastor gold's delight.

your sounds encourage him as he groans against your heat, teeth catching on your clit before his tongue is dipping inside. he maneuver your thighs onto his shoulders, pressing his face deeper as he fucks you with the agile muscle, his nose bumping against your sensitive clit.

like he did with his fingers, he is moving slowly but diligently. he's in no rush, taking his time to be thorough. part of you wonders if he is enjoying it, but he's convinced you this is all for the greater good, not some selfish sexual desire of his. it can't be, he wouldn't lie just to get between you thighs, right?

"so fucking filthy, you always leak this much? been such a whore your whole life, it's the only thing your body knows how to do." he mutters, suddenly angry. he growls against your inner thighs as he mouths at the sensitive flesh, dragging his teeth across the skin. "you're lucky i found you, so fucking pathetic right now. such a needy bitch."

you sob, tears sliding down your cheeks as he sits back and presses two fingers back inside you. you look down to see his face, the hair pushed back and he's slick with your juices from his nose down his neck.

"i'm a whore, a filthy fucking whore!" you cry, thighs quivering as he abuses your g-spot with two long fingers. your walls cling to the rings, the texture heightening the pleasure along with his degrading words.

"yes, admit your sin. let him hear how desperately you want to be saved by me, slut." he growled, thumb finding your swollen clit as his teeth dig into your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. "apologise to him, and beg for my salvation, you dirty fucking whore."

"f-fuck! i'm sorry! i'm sorry i sinned, i'm s-sorry i didn't believe!" you wail pathetically, fingers scrambling to grab at anything on the table, pushing the books and vhs tapes around. "i'm a slut, a whore! a dirty f-fucking sinner! please, help me pastor gold. i-i don't wanna go to hell, please. make me pure! save me!"

he smiles against your thigh, moving to give you another bite mark right next to the first as his fingers speed up. your inner walls clench around him, beckoning him deeper. tears slide down your cheeks as your juices slide down his wrist. his calloused thumb expertly circles your clit, the perfect speed to build an orgasm in your gut.

"recognising your sin is the first step, pet. i'm hear to answer your pathetic, slutty whining." he says, standing up but his hand continues working you towards an orgasm. he leans over you as you tremble on the table, his free hand pressing down on your lower stomach as you sob.

"do you want to be cleansed? tell me, do you want to be saved from your own filth? find god, and follow me into salvation?" he demanded, wrist moving faster as your body built closer and closer to that elusive release.

"yes! please, i-i need you pastor gold! i want to be saved, want to go to heaven instead of hell. please, help me s-stop being a whore! wanna be pure and clean." you sob, thighs shaking as you throw your head back so it slams audibly on the table.

you're so close, so fucking close. you swear you start to see a bright white light but before you can reach out for it his hand is pulled away, and he's keeping you pinned down to the table with the hand on your stomach.

you whine, struggling to even lift your head to look at him as the orgasm eludes you once more and your arousal is dripping down the cleft of your ass and onto the table. you don't feel frustrated, just more desperate than you've ever felt in your life. you don't realise you're crying until his hand cups your face, coating your skin in your own essense.

"shh, it's okay darling. i'm here." suddenly he's sweet again, his voice calm and collected. you hear his belt unbuckle and you look down to see he's unzipped his pants just enough to pull out his dick. long, hard and threatening. and yet, you part your legs obediently.

you sniffle as he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his cockhead up the length of your slit a few times as you whimper and continue to cry quietly.

"just breath, my sweet. it'll all be better soon." he assures you before slowly pressing inside. you arch off the bed, mouth falling open as he doesn't stop until his pelvis is flush with yours. you feel so full, and he increases the pressure on your stomach so you tighten up even more and he mutters something under his breath.

he leans over you, caging you against the desk. one hand flat against the wood while the other pulls your leg around his waist and he grinds against you. his tongue swipes up and down your cheek, tasting your tears.

"my angel, your tears have not been wasted. your time has come to be saved." he murmured, pulling back and thrusting forward slowly. the rhythm is deep and purposeful, he's pulling out until the head catches on your entrance before pushing all the way inside again. the books rattle on the table, and you continue to cry.

not because you're sad, but because you finally feel complete. like this was were you were always supposed to end up, spread open on his desk as he fucked you like it was worship.

he continues to lick your tears, whispering praise into your ear as you quiver around him. his stays slow and methodical, but still leaves your legs numb and head spinning.

"every time i fill you up your clench around me, your body knows i'm here to help." he grinned his nose bumping yours as he looks down at you. you realise suddenly despite the intimacy of this moment, he still hasn't even kissed you. you lift your chin to try and catch his lips but he pulls back, hips slamming forward a little rougher.

"tell me how you feel, angel." he asks, the hand on the table moving to grip your throat once more as he sits up and continues to fuck you. you whimper, nose running and tears sliding down your cheeks as you sob.

"f-feels good, pastor gold." you stutter, panting as his grip on your throat tightens briefly. "like i'm meant to be here, getting cleansed by your godly touch."

he hums in approval, keeping a grip on your throat as his hand holds your hips in place. his gaze is locked on your face, watching you cry as he fucks you into his desk. a few books and tapes slide onto the floor as he gets harder, the pace still slow but your body jolts with every thrust.

"perfection." he mutters, more to himself than you as he continues to thrust deeply. you couldn't tell if minutes or hours had passed, your head rolling back against the desk as he fucked every thought from your head. you'd do anything he asked, he was the only thing that felt real.

you arch off the table when the angle shifts and his cockhead presses into that soft spot he'd abused with his fingers earlier, and he's grinning again when he targets it repeatedly. you're a drooling, crying mess as he slowly speeds up.

objects clatter from the table and you reach out for him but he pulls his hand away from your throat to slap your hands back, squeezing your throat so tight it's hard to breath. so you reach above your head and grip the edge of the desk, fingernails pressing into the expensive wood as he pounds into you.

"you're so close, aren't you?" he says, voice surprisingly calm even as he's rearranging your insides. you just nod and whimper, choking on your own snot and tears as he holds your throat to keep you in place.

"that feeling, that release you want oh so desperately; i'm the only one who can make you feel this way. don't you understand? i'm the only one supposed to touch you like this, so you can be saved, darling." he tells you like it's a fact, and you believe him. it must be true, this pleasure can't be wrong, it's heavenly.

he grunts, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his pace become brutal, it almost hurts as he uses his weight to press down on your neck and lifts your ass off the table to fuck into you deeper. your eyes roll back and babble incoherently. you're so close, that orgasm he's been teasing you with is within your grasp once more.

"tell me you want to be saved, and i'll save you. clean your soul of sin, grant you passage into heaven from my touch." he growls, eyes dark as you nod and whine. you aren't really talking, your tongue fumbling with words so you just nod and beg.

he's squeezing your throat so tight now you start to see white, choking and trying to breath desperately but you can hardly inhale. all you can focus on his the feeling of his thick cock, his hand on your neck and the knowledge that soon you'll be pure again.

"that's it, my sweet. take it, take your medicine. get saved, be pure once again. take it, darling. fucking take your salvation!" he shouts before he's coming inside you with a loud groan. he fucks you through his orgasm, the feeling of his hot seed flooding your unprotected womb is enough to push you over the edge as you sob and come around him.

he fucks into your sloppy hole until he stills balls-deep inside you, breathing heavily. only then does his hand leave your throat and you gasp, desperately choking down air and filling your lungs. you're shaking and whimpering as your vision and thoughts slowly come back into your head.

"you did perfectly, angel." he murmured, hands running up and down your quivering thighs as you sob and sniffle. you wipe at your face, smearing the snot and tears around in an attempt to clean yourself up, he chuckles at the sight, staying inside you as he reaches to open a draw on the desk and pull out a branded handkerchief and begins to wipe away the mess on your face.

you smile up at him dumbly, hiccuping slightly as he looks down at you with reverence. you look at him like he's a god, and he seems proud of what he's done to you.

his touch stays tender as he slowly pulls out. you whine at the empty feeling, and jump slightly as he uses the same handkerchief to now clean between your legs.

"am i pure now, pastor gold?" you ask as he guides you to sit back up and pulls you flush against his chest. you nuzzle into his touch, smelling his cologne and own arousal on his suit jacket.

"no." he says simply, his fingers threading through your messy hair as you wrap your arms around his middle. "but you will be, my angel."

you pull back just enough to look up at him in confusion and he grins, that fucking grin. what once terrified you now makes your pussy clench around nothing.

"i'll keep giving you these private sermon's until i'm satisfied you've been cleansed of all sin." he says simply, taking a step back and holding your hand as you slide of the desk onto trembling legs. you glance around in search of your underwear and he taps his pocket to remind you he has them.

"you won't be needing these anytime soon, they're soaked in sin." he says casually, straightening your skirt so it covers your bare ass and cunt that is still dripping his seed. "besides, you shouldn't be embarrassed. you're on your way to heaven."

you nod, cheeks still flushed as he places a hand on your lower back and walks you towards the door. he slides a book and vhs tape into you hands, reminding you when the next sermon is.

he cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to you're forehead and you close your eyes, melting into his touch. your pussy and brain is full of him, you struggle to even remember the woman you were before you walked into his office.

you thank him and limp slightly as you walk out the door, you hear him chuckle before he closes it behind you. you've got a dumb smile on your face as you walk down the hall, already counting down the hours until his next sermon.

he was your god, and you would be his loyal disciple as he brought you to heaven.

────୨ৎ────

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪ.

・・・・・

-

Just to see you It's such a treasure But when I feel you My flesh yields no pleasure

And honey I'm cultured I'm very sex positive So what is this feeling? It ain't so positive

-

wilbur doesn't have anything exciting to say, nothing meaningful has happened to him. he still lives at home much to his mother's annoyance, he works at a corner store and gets paid minimum wage. he is even more active on the internet than he was as a kid, scrolling reddit and playing video games until his eyes burn. he complains about females with other likeminded men, they are the only ones who can match his high intelligence and they feed his ideologies.

she says she's just finished university and moved back to their hometown, she's got an average job but she loves it. she smiles as she talks, she's excited about the future. her optimism makes his stomach twist in knots, and he's chugging the last of his drink to wash the jealousy from his mouth.

its been a few hours but it feels like days with how drained wilbur is. his friends are trying to keep him engaged but his resentment radiates from him almost as strong as his BO. so he drinks, and he drinks until he feels like he's going to vomit if he has another. he sinks into the couch, watching them laugh and play a video game from his spot in the living room.

he pulls out his phone and starts scrolling, being met with posts that fuel his anger. he knew coming here was a mistake, he should have just said no and stayed home. maybe he came because he hoped his friends would be just as miserable as him and he'd feel better about himself. but of course they're doing amazing, of course they've succeeded in all the ways he deserves to but never does. he's checking on his phone how to drive home, he doesn't even want to say goodbye. they aren't his friends, not anymore.

and then she sits next to him.

she says she missed him, and he feels like he's being punked. no one misses him, no one thinks about him even when he's in the same room. she smiles while she talks, and it makes him feel sick. he isn't sure why. now that she's sitting closer he can smell her, the perfume she's wearing must be expensive the way it floods his senses and makes him dizzy. it has to be the perfume, no other reason.

he tells her he's missed her too, which isn't exactly true. he hadn't thought about her much at all after graduation, his focus on other females he'd tried and failed to court. they barely gave him the time of day and it fuelled the flames of resentment that hung heavy in his heart. at this point he assumed all the femoid's worth marrying had already lowered their value by fucking chads.

but not you. you're giving him time, blessing him with your attention. he isn't quite sure why, is it to make fun of him later? find out his secrets and betray him? he assumes the worst, but you're just smiling and offering to get you both another drink. maybe you're actually being nice, as unlikely as that sounds to him.

he follows you to the kitchen, the other guys are sat around the tv laughing loudly as they drink. it quieter in the other room, it makes his thoughts ring louder in his ears. you're quick to fill the silence by grabbing two drinks from the fridge, and he indulges in a look at your ass when you bend over to do so.

you ask if he has a girlfriend and he has to grip the counter with his free hand so he doesn't fall over. he says he doesn't, and makes some bitter comment about how all the girls in this town are all bitches. you ask if that's changed now you've moved back into town. he shrugs, making some joke that you don't count. you wouldn't want to know what's really on his mind right now.

one drink turns into two, and he's pretty sure he's more than tipsy now. the slight haze in his vision makes you glow in the evening light, your features highlighted in a way he's never seen them before. you ask him what his plans are, and he says he was gonna drive home. you tell him it's not safe, ignoring the way he shakes his head dismissively.

-

I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? I like it I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? It's only

OK, so I've been reading all the sex blogs And they all talk about how OK it is to be gay And straight and bisexual and asexual And have sex however you like

-

you put a hand on his arm, the touch burns the skin under his hoodie, and you tell him you're already planning on spending the night here and he should too. he says yes. of course he does. he's annoyed at his own optimism. but you care about him, you don't want him to drive home drunk. you want him safe. you fucking care if he's alive or not.

he isn't used to that sort of consideration.

the sun has set and the house is dark, most people have gone home except for the stragglers on the couch. the host; an old friend who's name he can't remember, with you and him sharing the last of the beer. he's spoken more to you than any girl in the last six months, and it makes his cock ache in his skinny jeans. he considered running upstairs and dealing with it in the bathroom, but that would mean leaving your side. you'd probably fall for the other man in the time he was gone.

the host (what was his name again? henry? andrew?) is better than him in everyway. he has his own house, he's handsome with a good job. if you talked to him for even a minute you'd realise what a waste of space wilbur is and forget about him again.

but henry/andrew yawns, stretching his arms above his head and says he's going to bed. he grabs some blankets and pillows from a wardrobe and tell you guys to sleep on the couch. you thank him for his hospitality with a hug, wishing him a goodnight. wilbur grumbles his own thanks, but he's more pleased to be alone with you than anything.

he helps you make the beds on the two couches, grateful as you offer to take the shorter one since his legs don't fit. you say you aren't quite tired yet, and decide to put a movie on the television. the volume is low and the space suddenly feels much more intimate.

is this what a date would feel like? wilbur hasn't got a clue. you take a seat next to him on the couch, your thigh pressing against his own. he thinks about grabbing it, digging his thin fingers into the plush flesh until it bruises. the movie is playing but he isn't paying attention, his mind filled with thoughts of you. your scent, your warmth, only you.

he feels like such a simp, a pathetic excuse for a man as he imagines a future with you by his side. he'd look after you if you just gave him a chance, he could shape you into the perfect wife. train you to clean his house and cook him dinner, he'd work a well paying job and keep you barefoot and pregnant. you have so much potential, he just has to make a move.

but that nagging feeling of insecurity stops him. he would probably just mess it up and you'd hate him, like every other worthless female that has come into his life. why the fuck should he try anymore.

wilbur wasn't quite sure how it eventually happened. maybe it was pity, maybe the alcohol had lowered your inhibitions, whatever the reason the next morning he would be thanking a god he didn't believe in. he made some comment about the movie and you laughed. not a forced chuckle, your face lit up and your eyes scrunched, the sound bubbling from your chest. it made him.... happy. something unfamiliar. you lift your head to look at him beside you, and suddenly he is very aware of how close your face is to his own.

you close the distance, soft lips pressing against his own chapped ones. it's awkward, he doesn't even close his eyes or move as you kiss him softly. you taste like cheap beer, but since this is his first kiss and he can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, he isn't exactly in a position to complain. when you pull back and blink at him, he doesn't even breath. this is further than he has gotten before, and he can't mess it up yet.

-

But I don't care about hundreds of hypothetical people And their hypothetical sex deals I care about me, and my sex deal! What about my problems?

Baby, my body Constantly betrays me I try to betray it I only hurt myself Yeah, yeah

-

"sorry, i shouldn't have done that without asking first. i didn't mean to upset you-" you start to apologies but at this point he can't even hear you over the ringing in his ears as his blood rushed through his veins. suddenly he grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back against the couch as he caged her against the cushions.

he kissed you this time, sloppy and overly eager. swapping spit and clashing teeth as he forces his tongue into your mouth. its his first time ever kissing someone, and he does his best to copy what he's seen in films. although he's too desperate, letting out little groans and whines as his hands squeeze your shoulders to keep you pinned down.

it doesn't take long for you to reciprocate his advances, hands sliding around his long neck as you kiss him back. he know's you're drunk, you aren't thinking straight and will probably regret it tomorrow. he didn't even really ask you, just assumed it was okay since you kissed him first. a good man would slow down, stop and consider what he was doing. but wilbur wasn't a good man.

your thighs wrap around his waist and his pelvis slots against your own, causing him to groan. his big hands slide down your sides then back up under your shirt, cupping your tits. god, boobs are amazing. warm, big, soft. it's better than he imagined, and of course you weren't wearing a bra- you must have planned this. such a slut, but its okay because he can fix you.

he's dry-humping you like a dog, messily kissing your face and lips as he rolls your stiff nipples between his thumb and fore finger. you start moaning now, and it makes his cock ache. he's making you feel good, you're enjoying this. he was doing something right for the first time in his life. for a brief moment he considers the people sleeping upstairs, how anyone could walk down and see him groping you on the couch but he can't bring himself to care.

"holy shit, you're so fucking soft. you wanted this, didn't you?" he practically snarls the words, all his deepest, darkest thoughts coming out before he can stop himself. "gonna fucking ruin you. make you mine. needed a real man like me to take charge. all you females are the same."

he shoves your shirt up until its around your armpits, and he stops kissing you so he can mouth at your tits instead. your fingers tangle in his brown curls and he lets out a growl of approval, his hands already moving to unbuckle your jeans.

you whimper his name and he struggles to get the tight denim down past your thighs. you lift your hips off the couch to help him, you want this. you want him, you're letting him touch you. some how you're attracted to him, even though he's too skinny and hasn't showered in nine days.

"y-you gotta be quiet, i don't wanna get caught." you whisper into his ear as your own hands trail down so you slide a hand over the obvious bulge in his pants. he practically growls, yanking your jeans the rest of the way off your legs and throwing them to the floor. he's never had someone touch him before, and he is already stupidly close to cumming and his pants aren't even off.

-

It's only sex It's only It's only sex C'mon, sexual desire, speak!

I want to hold you tight I want to feel your love physically I want to sleep with you But only in the literal sense

-

"why? are you embarrassed?" he asked, voice low in his throat as he used one hand to grab your waist as the other pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. he gave himself a few frim strokes, knowing he must smell since he hasn't even looked at soap in days. "if you're gonna be a slut and put out so easily, you can't be shy about it, that's more pathetic."

your cheeks flush as you stutter out a reply, your cheeks flushed as he attempts to penetrate you but he's moving too fast, the mushroomed tip bumping against your slick folds as he whines. insulted by his words, you decide to take charge and teach the sad man above you a lesson.

with strength he didn't expect you to have, you manage to push him back until he is sitting on his knees. he doesn't have time to react before you're straddling his lap and spitting on his dick. you swat his hand away to jerk him off himself. the insulting words he was throwing your way die in his throat as he looks up at you. this wasn't how it was supposed to go, men aren't supposed to let women dominate them. and yet, here he is a babbling mess when you lean down to run your tongue over his sensitive weeping slit.

you spit and slobber over his cock, and he can't help but notice how big it looks next to your face. he grabs the base and slaps it against your cheek, earning a sharp bite on his inner thigh that makes him whimper pathetically. the sound clearly pleases you as you continue to cover his shaft in your salvia.

his balls feel heavy, and he's confident if you keep this up he won't even manage to get inside you properly. every time he tries to touch you, your slapping his hand away and glaring at him. he's a little nervous, he never imagined a femoid having such control over him. he's an alpha male, he's supposed to be dominant and claim you. now he's whimpering, begging. it's pathetic. he feels ashamed, but the pleasure from your both and hands is making him too dizzy.

"shut up wil, do you want to get laid or not? you keep being a bitch i'll let you die a virgin." you say, using one hand to stroke his length as the other slides between your thighs to rub yourself. he opens his mouth to protest against your insulting words but you don't give him the chance, squeeze his cock tightly at the base so his back arches.

"don't deny it, i know you're a virgin. i can tell by the way you're trying so hard to impress me. it's kind of cute." she chuckled, but he doesn't find it funny. he's insulted by you, and yet his cock doesn't soften and he doesn't make any move to stop you. its kind of... hot, seeing you in charge. this isn't how he dreamed of this moment going at all.

you make quick prep of yourself, rolling your clit with your palm as your fingers slide inside you. he can hear the wet sound of your fingering, and he knows he should probably offer to help you out but he isn't in a position to ask for anything when you start kissing and sucking at his neck.

"please, i-i'm sorry, i never thought i'd get this far with a fema- i mean, girl..." he struggles to speak, his hips lifting off the couch to try and chase your hand when you stop stroking him. instead you pull your hand from your cunt and slide the slid fingers forcefully past his lips, the slightly salty taste of your arousal coats his tongue as he does his best to lick your digets clean. you praise him, and it makes his dick somehow harder.

"you gonna be good for me? you gonna let me take care of you, fuck some sense into your stupid head?" you murmur into his ear, fingers tangling in his greasy hair as you hover above his lap. he nods, whining as he reaches for your hips. once again you push his hand away, glaring down at the pathetic excuse for a man.

"ask permission to touch, i'm doing you a favour. be grateful." she says, eyes darkening as he nodded. he clenches his fists, blunt nails digging into his palms as he starts to beg.

"please, l-let me touch you. wanna f-feel your soft skin, g-grab your ass." he's vomiting out words quickly, his tongue working faster than his brain. he should be embarrassed, and maybe tomorrow morning he will be. but right now all he can think about is you, and how heavenly you'll feel wrapped around his dick.

-

I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? I like you I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? It's only-

I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? I like it I can't tell you if I like it, I like it What happens if I don't like it? It's only-

-

you give him a surprisingly soft smile, nodding at him. his hands jump to your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of your love handles. you're still half wearing your shift, and his own is stuck to his chest with sweat. but he isn't thinking about how uncomfortable and gross he is, instead he watches in awe as you grab his cock and position him at your entrance.

he feels like throwing up, cumming and crying all at once when his engorged head pops inside your entrance. his fingers dig in harder, no doubt leaving bruises. all he wants to do is pull you down and get as deep inside you as he can. so he does, yanking you down and bending his knees so he can lift his hips up and press even deeper inside you.

it feels better than his hand, but it's short lived bliss before your hand slaps across his cheek. he stares up at you like you have three heads, gobsmacked you've done that to him. he deserves it of course, but he hasn't had a female ever stand up to him and punish him for his greedy behaviour.

your hands press into his shoulders until he's lying flat across the couch, and you start to bounce on him. hard and fast, all his words get lost in his throat and he resorts to whimpering your name instead. you seem pleased by him, a smirk on your face as you ride the fuck out of him.

it feels good, you're tighter than he expected. pussy feels better that it looks. its pulpy, warm and so fucking wet. he could die right now and be a happy man. he just might get a heart attack, considering how fast his heart is beating and the way he's struggling to breath.

he feels his orgasm coming on way to quick, he can't help it. you feel too fucking good, its better than a dream. he tries to slow down your bouncing with his hands but his limbs feel numb. you're laughing now, you can see how close he is by his facial expression.

"look at you, so close already? what happened to the alpha male you were pretending to be before?" you tease, grabbing his jaw and squeezing his lips so you can spit into his mouth. he feels so degraded, like he isn't worth anything to you. which he knows it true, and it makes his cock throb with need as he desperately tries to hold of his orgasm.

"p-please let me c-cum, wanna f-fill you up." he's whimpering, tears sliding down his reddened cheeks as his hips rut up into you. he can feel his cockhead slamming into your cervix. "please, please... let me cum in y-you, wanna g-get you pregnant."

you laugh again, nails digging into his shoulders as you slow your riding, rolling your hips in a painfully slow rhythm that has him sobbing. he knows he doesn't deserve to finish inside you, you deserve so much more than his pathetic genes fertilising your eggs. he doesn't deserve to procreate, and yet he keeps asking.

whining and whimpering as his hips try to lift off the couch but you've got him pinned against the couch. he's a lot taller than you, but he's too skinny to try and switch the power dynamic. plus with how much blood is flooding between his legs, he can hardly think straight.

"f-fuck, mummy please. let me cum, i-i know i'm ugly and g-gross but i wanna f-finish so bad." the nickname slips past his lips before he can second guess himself, and it makes him so ashamed. he shouldn't find it sexy but now he's even closer to finishing as you rock yourself against him, his thick length rubbing against your tight walls.

you're smiling, clearly a fan of the nickname yourself as you begin to bounce once more. leaning forward to whisper in his ear, you give him permission to cum and he could cry with joy. he starts to thrust up into you, already imagining how good it'll feel to spill his seed inside you, fill you with his virile cum.

but that fantasy is short lived as when he is about to finish you lift off of him, wrapping your delicate hand around his length and jerking him off with quick strokes. it takes a few seconds before he is letting out another pathetic sound as his cum spills all over his stomach, pooling around his belly button.

-

It's only sex (it's only sex) It's only- It's only sex (no, it's not) It's only sex It's only- It's only sex It's only sex It's only-

-

his vision goes white, and he is vaguely away of your weight getting off of him as he lies limp on the couch that is now soaked with his sweat. he's panting, and his limbs feel numb. he should feel angry, you just treated him like some sort of subservient manchild and yet he can't bring himself to be upset. not when he just had the best orgasm of his life.

he manages to blink his eyes open when he feels something wiping against his stomach, his vision clearing as he looks down. you've put your clothes back on, at least your shirt and underwear. now you're cleaning the mess from his stomach with the gentlest touch you've shown him all night.

wilbur doesn't talk as you pull his jeans the rest of the way down, pulling his boxers back up and getting him comfortable. you're really living up to the nickname as you mother him, making him feel cared for despite your earlier treatment.

eventually your getting back onto the couch, draping yourself across his scrawny chest and nuzzling against his neck. one long arm wraps around your waist, and he feels content. maybe he did die tonight, because this feels too good to be true.

"thank you mummy.." he murmurs, and he can feel you smile against his neck. he knows tomorrow will probably be filled with regret and shame, but right now he's happy to fall asleep with a pretty girl in his arms and pretend he is worth your attention.

────୨ৎ────

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪ.

・・・・・

INCELBUR who presses his nose into his pillow, groaning as his drunken memories slowly come back. most of the night is a blur, details he hates himself for being too intoxicated to remember. he thinks about your smile, the softness of your lips, the weight of your body on his lap. he's already getting hard, and with no guilt at all he rolls onto his back and tugs his sweatpants down enough to free his cock.

INCELBUR who could probably fill a bathtub with the amount of cum he's produced with you on his mind in the time you've known him. the months feel like years, and he closes his eyes as he wraps his long fingers around his length. no stranger to masturbation, he finds a familiar quick rhythm that has him panting and sweating through his shirt as he thinks about your mouth. your thighs. your hands. you. you. you.