warning:: gender neu. reader , sub character & nsfw .
“i'll show you a faster way to get money.” is what you said to the shorter boy before what was going to happen.
hobin gasps loudly when your tongue meets his perky nipple. he takes a fistful of your hair as your teeth graze him.
he lets out a whine, "not there!"
you ignore him, taking his wrists away from you and pinning them above his head. the weaker boy couldn't even resist.
he's doing this for the money. the money, the money. he repeats over and over in his head.
who is he kidding. he'd never slut himself out for a couple of bucks...
maybe.
electricity shoots up his spine as your hand slips down his pants. he squirms, messing your sheets up in the process.
“i-it tickles..." hobin’s lips form a thin line. your lips move from his nipple and to his collarbone, leaving feather-like kisses all around his body.
he lets out quivering moans when your warm hand wraps around him, gently pumping his half-erect cock – he was small and it was so adorable, it would hurt him if he knew that's what you thought – before removing your hand entirely to push his shirt up.
it’s your shirt to be specific, it didn’t fit the smaller boy properly but it was comfortable.
he drops his head to your shoulder and his hips hump the air from the lost friction. you unbutton his pants and pull them down, he helps you out by wiggling out of them.
he shakes his pants out off his legs, panting and in a hurry.
his slender fingers grip onto his underwear and he drops them. you whisper small praises in his ears and he nibbles on his bottom lip.
pretty? him?
you think he's a good boy?
hobin presses his thighs together, as if that'll help his little problem.
fuck, has he always been this desperate for someones touch?
his hands run down his stomach, scratching at himself to hold back from playing with himself in front of you.
“hands to yourself.” you whisper in his ear, staring at the side of his face.
he’s squeezing his eyes shut, face flushed in a harsh red. what an adorable boy.
“it is on myse–” you pinched his tip earning a muffled yelp, he tries his best to shut his legs as he cries into your neck.
you practically have to force him to spread his legs. his socks nearly slipped off by the way he kicks and struggles under your hold. when you manage to succeed, he was left a sobbing mess.
you shush and caress his head, placing a kiss to the side of his head, you can smell the scent of your shampoo on him. "shh, i know it hurts doll, what can i do to make it up—"
hobin lets out a frustrated shout in between his heavy breaths, he only snuggles deeper into your neck to hide his face.
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