#x afab reader

“you still breathing?”

his arm fell from his face. the harsh white hospital lights made her look like an angel in his bleary vision. jack grumbled and pulled his arms over his head, stretching himself taunt. “oh good i thought you finally croaked,” she quipped.

as he lifted his arms his black tee drew up his stomach. his stomach was defined, but not to an unnatural extent. she wanted to sink her teeth into that bit of pudge around his hips. she caught a glimpse of the silver hair dusted along his abdomen, trailing up his navel and disappearing beneath the black cotton of his shirt. he was impossibly thick. he nearly filled the space of the hospital bed.

“you’d miss me too much,” he groaned. her eyes flew back up to his face. an undeniable heat slowly seeped down her spine and settled in her tummy. he crossed his large arms against his chest. she would happily spend hours kissing every one of the freckles there.

“it’s my nap time, old man,” she smiled, fidgeting with her fingers. the physician scowled, “i’m pulling a double.”

“yeah i know because so am i,” she pulled the railing down on the side of the cot. it snapped with a shrill squeak. he flinched sleepily at the noise.

jack sat up. her knees brushed the edge of the limp mattress. “you’re not getting my bed,” he insisted, pink knuckle roughly rubbing at his eye.

it was childish. but it worked like a charm. she puffed out her cheeks and pouted, “do you hate me?”

“what?” jack laughed. the crows feet at the edge of his eyes deepened. that smile. prodding against his cheeks like her personal vice. he shook his head, running a broad hand through his hair. he suddenly looked much more awake.

she shrugged helplessly, “you want me to go sleep in my freezing car in the snow,” she whined. jack stared at for a moment, just grinning. it was like she put him on pause and the gears in his head were working double time to keep him from doing something. what that something was, she wasn’t sure.

he huffed, “okay. c’mon.” he sat up a bit in an attempt to make space for her but his thighs nearly filled the entirety of the seat of the bed. her heart pattered a bit in her throat. an invitation to be as close as professionally possible. or maybe they were breaking a few rules. she grinned and leaned in, “you wanna cuddle?”

jack scoffed, “go sleep in your car.” she shook her head, “scoot over, asshole,” she giggled.

he listened. he pressed himself against the opposite rail, but there still wasn’t much room for her. she sat down and pulled her legs to her chest, reaching down and pulling up the rail. he was turned on his side, arms still crossed, legs crowding her own.

“you look real comfortable,” he muttered. when she looked to him his eyes were flitting about her face. he was so close. he had been this close before - leaning over her shoulder or whispering a dirty joke in her ear - but he had never looked at her like that. she teased, “oh so you do wanna cuddle?” her voice came out an octave too high. she bit her lip.

jack gently tapped her folded leg. “relax,” he whispered, tone husky and low, “i don’t bite.” her stomach was flipping with nerves. he had that catlike smirk on his lips and for once she couldn’t read his mind. he was so warm. so close. it made her brain fuzzy.

she sighed shakily. he licked his lips. she sunk into the bed, shifting awkwardly to ease the aching of her overworked joints. she turned her back towards him and her legs mirrored the curl of his own. she placed an arm under her head. she could feel the material of his scrub bottoms brushing against her ass. if she just backed up-

“you smell good,” he muttered. she looked over her shoulder to him with a knotted brow. it was like he was trying to kill her.

jack frowned, “what? go to sleep.”

“you’re cruel,” she huffed as she shimmied her shoulders to reposition her head. he laughed suddenly, “what did i do? i’m sharing my bed with you -“ his lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “you should be grateful.”

she turned her head a bit. the warmth of his breath tickled her cheek. his eyes had a bit of brown in them. “see. you’re mean,” but she was smiling because there was a wetness flooding the space between her thighs.

jack’s head reared back a bit. his brows ticked and eyes narrowed. he was offended by her disobedience. “c’mon, say thank you, doctor abbot.”

her heart dropped. she chuckled dryly, “shut up,” and turned her gaze back toward the wall.

jack grabbed her by the jaw, fingers digging in to her plump cheeks and forcing her lips to pucker. her eyes widened and heat flooded over her body. he made her look at him. half his body weight rested on her side. blazing like a sun. something snapped in her. it wasn’t a joke.

he looked scorned or maybe aroused. she couldn’t tell what lived behind his cheshire grin. “be a good girl. say thank you, jack, for being so kind to me.”

her cunt was throbbing now. “th - thank you, jack,” she managed to choke out. his grip tightened. jack shook his head lightly, “no, no. i know you’re a good listener. that’s not what i said.”

“thank you for being so - so kind to me, jack,” she mumbled. he smiled once more, nodding, “good girl. so smart.” his hand fell from her jaw to her throat. his calloused fingers slowly ghosted over the column of her neck before trailing down between her breasts, then over her stomach, and sliding beneath the waistband of her scrubs. his hand froze there. hot and oddly heavy against her abdomen.

“you want this?” he whispered. she nearly laughed. like she hadn’t shown him just how much she wanted him the past few months of their working relationship. she nodded enthusiastically, lip caught between her teeth.

the older man straightened up a bit. he slinked his other arm around her shoulders and she followed his lead - scooting up the bed flat on her back to make her body more accessible to him.

head resting against his bicep, she looked at him through her eyelashes. though his eyes were on her’s his gaze was heady and his mouth was just slightly agape in focus. the flat of his palm slid down her abdomen and cupped her mound. she whimpered, “jack.”

she was practically dripping. his fingers prodded at the patch of slick seeping through her panties. “fuck. you’re so wet,” he groaned. jack pressed his forehead against her temple, lashes fluttering against her skin as he closed them in ecstasy. he pressed one big, fat finger between her clothed folds. his fingertip began to ever so slightly dip in and out of her wet cunt.

she was whining, rolling her hips against his big hand. he pressed a chaste peck into the apple of her cheek. “d’you know how long i’ve wanted to get my hands on you? hm?” she screwed her eyes shut, holding back a squeal.

the calloused pads of his fingers dragged along her skin as he pushed her panties to the side. the heel of his palm pressed into her clit. two fingers swirled around her entrance then up and down her sensitive folds, collecting her arousal and using it as lubricant to play with her sex. “little pussy’s so wet and puffy,” he was all gravelly. “feel like velvet, pretty girl. s’this pussy just as pretty as you?”

she hummed. her mind was static. stuffed full of jack. jack’s musky cologne. jack’s breath against her. jack’s big bicep curling against her side. the outline of jack’s big hand completely, impossibly covering her lap through her bottoms. the freckles on his skin. the weight of his body against her.

“i could play with your cunt forever. but that would be mean, huh?” his voice dripped with faux sympathy. his touch stalled against her slick hole. she held her breath. “‘m not that mean. no,” he cooed. she could feel a bit of spittle on his lips. he was drooling. “‘ll fuck you with my fingers. how about that, kid?”

he was gross and perverted and decades her senior and she moaned like a whore, hips jutting instinctually. jack hummed against her hair. he pressed a wet kiss against her head and whispered a yeah before he slipped his finger in.

the digit curled against her gummy walls over and over. just one but it made her cunt ache. she was whimpering, panting, and he was shushing her.

“sh, sh, sh, babygirl. someone’ll hear.”

she opened her mouth to argue but euphoria scrambled her brains, “but i - feels g - s’good, jack. good, jack.” her words were airy. it made him laugh. he pressed his cheek against her and watched his hand as he slipped in another finger. she gasped at the stretch.

“i know, baby,” he cooed. lust was knotting a tight band in her tummy. the meaty heel of his palm was grazing her clit in tandem with the rhythmic thrusts of his wrist and curls of his knuckles. she was edging on release in such little time and jack knew. and he was losing his mind.

jack’s fat bulge was pressed against her hip. he ached with need. all that blood in his cock made him lightheaded.

she turned her head to him, watery eyes meeting his glassy ones. “jack m’gonna cum if - if -“ she cut herself off with a small moan. he was moving faster, brushing against that perfect spot in her pussy with his perfect fingers.

“want you to cum. make a mess on my hand, baby. i’ll clean it up, c’mon. jack’ll clean it up for you, baby.” his perverse encouragement had her on the edge.

then he pressed his lips to hers and everything felt hot. his tongue swiped against her own lazily. her hips stuttered and a sweet rhapsody of release trickled through her body. they moaned into each other’s mouths, jack lightly humping her leg, soiling the layers between them with ropes of sticky cum.

she rode his hand through her high. their lips finally parted with a wet tch. for a moment they passed back and forth the same hot breath. jack finally pulled out of her ruined pants.

he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on the two digits. his eyes fluttered shut. he moaned like a teenage boy. she lightly giggled, still trying to catch her breath. jack pulled them out and pressed them to her smiling lips. she opened to taste the mix of his spit and her cum on his fingertips.

“doin’ so good f’me…” a gruff voice groaned from behind you as his hips continued with their brutal rhythm, cock bullying its way in and out of your abused cunt.

you’d long lost count of how many times you had already come, a mixture of your combined fluids pooling beneath you on the bed and between your thighs, a creamy ring forming at the base of his length.

hands gripping your waist, you could do nothing but allow him to keep you up no thanks to the trembling of your legs, your upper half arched to the bed as he kept your ass in the air.

god, you looked so beautiful he could cry.

his pelvis brushed your ass with every thrust, tip hitting the deepest spots inside that had your toes curling helplessly against the sheets of the bed.

“leon!” you whimpered into the pillow, fingers twisting in the fabric as if to hang on for dear life - and maybe you were with the way he was pounding into you with reckless abandon, length pistoning in and out of your soaked hole, “close, ‘m close!”

“then come for me.” he grunted, burying his face into the side of your neck to leave wet, sloppy kisses, new marks blooming next to old, “tha’s it-“

usually, leon was a gentle lover in bed - preferring to take his time and really savor the moment since he never knew when he would be gone for another mission - though this night was different after a rather frustrating day at the dso.

between piles of paperwork and stupid meetings about this, that, or the other, he had been practically beating his head off the wall all day, just waiting for the clock’s hands to strike the hour that signaled it was time to leave.

and when that time finally came at long last? traffic was backed up several miles long.

who knew that him using his pent-up frustration would lead you to such an… eventful night - it certainly opened up your eyes to a whole new side of your husband.

and even when being rough, he loved to spoil his wife.

one of his hands snaked between your legs to rub a thumb along your swollen clit, your body jolting from the overstimulation that followed. leon had skillfully worked orgasm after orgasm out of you from his fingers and tongue alone, refusing to use his cock despite how much you begged and pleaded through wet lashes.

it wasn’t until your brain was practically mush that he finally released his achingly hard length from its confinement in his pants. he had pressed the softest kiss to your cheek before slipping in like it was nothing.

several orgasms later, here you were.

tears streaked your flushed cheeks, drool dripped down your chin as you whimpered and mewled beneath him, your orgasm building embarrassingly quickly.

with a choked whine, you came for the umpteenth time, body twitching as your warm walls clamped around his cock. working you down from your high, his fingers pulled away from your sensitive bud of nerves, cooing into your ear.

“think you can do one more f’me?” he asked, pressing kisses to your jaw. he could feel the slight tremble in your body, his hands making quick work to flip you over.

now on your back and feeling like your entire world had just been flipped around, you gazed blearily up at your husband for a moment before a weak smile formed on your kiss-swollen lips, one of his thumbs reaching up to swipe away the previous drool.

“‘kay.” you hummed with an almost dreamy but half-assed smile, arms reaching up to loop around his neck. his pale eyes met yours as he returned to his previous rhythm, hips rocking back and forth.

the sound of skin hitting skin quickly filled the room yet again, synchronized pants and moans joining in a familiar harmony that was a far too familiar giveaway that neither of you was lasting long.

incoherent strings of words endlessly tumbled from your lips in the form of babbling as leon continued his rhythm, your walls clenching around his length with just about every thrust.

“‘s too much-“ you whimpered through overstimulation, a droplet of drool dribbling from your swollen lips, “mmf, leon-“ all but gasping from the mixture of pleasure and pain, your body jerked below his.

“shhh.” he cooed softly, lips pressing to your cheeks to kiss away the tears you hadn’t noticed fall, “jus’ one more for me, ‘kay?”

and despite his rough movements, his voice was soft - sweet. exactly what you needed to hear in the moment despite the way overstimulation zapped at your senses.

“doin’ s’good for me.” the man above you all but purred, his tip still bullying the spot deep inside that had you seeing stars. his lips left gentle kisses in a trail along your face, neck, and shoulders, not sparing even an inch of untouched skin.

it felt like your brain had turned to mush, your senses in a roller coaster that only went higher and higher, the familiar coil in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter until finally…

it snapped.

with a choked whimper, you came again, squirting messily all over - not that leon really cared, too busy chasing his own impending orgasm.

with a few sloppy thrusts, he buried his face against your neck with a muffled groan as he finally came, painting your insides white with his seed.

it was silent for a few moments, save for the soft panting that filled the space between you.

with a tired giggle, you pressed a clumsy kiss to leon’s sweat-covered cheek, nuzzling your nose against the top of his head.

sure, the mess would need cleaned up along with the both of you, but relishing in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking seemed like an even better idea in the moment.

It had been a long day, darkness now settled in around your apartment with silver slivers of moonlight casting a low glow through the open blinds. When you had left earlier that day the sun was high in the sky and the place was warm with a golden glow, there was no need for lights or lamps to be on. Now, the clock ticked just past 10pm and you were exhausted. 

Physically and emotionally. You and Jack had both been called into The Pitt at 1pm, a mass casualty being brought through the doors that meant it was all hands on deck, so despite it being both of your days off you headed in without a second thought. Now the adrenaline had crashed and you felt every ache and pain in your body, bones growing heavy weariness. It was a fight to stay awake long enough just to get home. 

Jack flicks the light switch on as you enter the room and you flinch slightly, it’s dimmer then the fluorescence in the ED but still enough to hurt as you adjust from the darkness outside. Silently, you both make your way to the bedroom, bags abandoned at the door and scrubs being removed and thrown into the laundry in a habitual motion. There’s a shared embrace, a steadying moment as you breathe together and come down from the chaos of work. 

A kiss to your forehead, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders as gentle hands rub up and down.  Hearts beat in sync, a steady rhythm against both of your chests. You stay like that a moment, emotions rising and falling and steadying. Your heart hurts, it's splintered and broken from the lives you lost, but it still beats. Still reminds you that you’re alive. 

“I’m gonna go get the shower warmed up, you wanna go throw some clothes into the dryer for when we’re done?”

Jack’s voice is soft, muffled against your hair as he talks into it, and you nod softly into his chest pulling away just a bit. There’s a press of lips against your lips, steady, warm, enough to keep you drawn to earth and not floating a million miles away. You separate from Jack, turning to your dresser to pull out a pair of sweats, clean underwear for you both, and one of Jack's old t-shirts that you liked to wear to bed, while he goes into the bathroom and turns the shower on. 

As you open up the closet next to the bedroom, your washer and dryer stored safely inside, you hear him shuffle about over the sound of the pounding water. Just as you turn the machine on, the hum of it coming to life nearly blocking out the sound, you hear Jack call to you from the bathroom.

“Sweetheart?”

There’s confusion in his tone, and you briefly wonder why but then the memories from the early afternoon come back to you. The nervousness, the anxiety as you watched the timer on the clock count down and the two lines showing on the test. How you got the call to go into The Pitt and hastily through the test on top of trash instead of carefully hiding it. Fuck, so wrapped up in work and the aftermath you had completely forgotten you had taken the test. 

You step back into the bedroom slowly. The nervousness from earlier returned as your heart hammered and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, bringing the earlier nausea back to life again. You stop at the bathroom door, lip pulled in between your teeth as Jack holds the test in his hands. 

Anxiety flares to life inside of you, your heart now hammering in your chest and your stomach flipping over and over again making the nausea ten times worse than it was. Your blood is running cold, spine straightening as tension takes hold and it’s like your back in the ED. Moving on instinct rather than choice. 

You’re too busy spiralling in your own head to be able to read his expression, you pull at the dead skin around your nails and look past him at the blank wall instead. Your voice is quiet, timid, almost shaky as you answer him.

“Yeah?”

He turns to you then, eyes quietly reverent as he steps forward and places a hand on your stomach. Your breath catches as he looks at you, and you force yourself to meet his eyes. There’s nothing but love and care reflected back at you and you can’t help the relieved breath that leaves you. The tears that well in your eyes. How the tension slowly falls away, heart still beating erratically but it doesn’t feel like it is going to leap out of your chest. Your posture softens, shoulders slumping forward towards Jack, head lolling slightly as if you’re being drawn towards him. 

“Are you really pregnant?”

There’s a moment of silence, your brain telling you to speak. To say yes. But the words die on your tongue, nerves overriding your ability to properly function so instead you just nod. The silent confirmation all Jack needed before a wide smile breaks out onto his face and his pulling you close to his chest. Kisses are placed all over your face and hands are wiping your tears away. 

Jack holds you for a moment longer, and your heart settles as you recognise that he’s happy. This is a good thing. There’s another kiss pressed to your forehead, and Jack pulls away before bending down and placing one on your stomach as well. His smile is warm, full of love and joy and you realise just how silly you were for thinking he would be anything but. 

“Come on let’s get cleaned up and then we can order dinner”

𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 [1474]

The soft evening light filters through the window, the sun slowly lowering in the sky as deep purples and blues shimmers in a distant haze across the mountain tops. The air is warm, summer slowly creeping into the city, but there is a lightness to it. The heavy humidity of thunder storms is not yet encroaching on the city. It’s still early summer, spring passing by and giving way for new life.

You’re sitting at the kitchen island, the hanging lights above you the only other source of light other than the purples and blue dancing through the far window. They’re dim, atmospheric as a candle burns beside you filling the room with the scent of bergamot and cinnamon, an old Christmas candle you had found while doing some spring cleaning. 

Or rather, some nesting. The urge to clean and get the place neat, tidy, safe, had overwhelmed you a few days before. When Michael had asked what had gotten into you, you could only shrug your shoulders and say the place needed to be cleaned. Now, you understand why. The photo now hanging on the fridge gives you some much needed clarity on why every surface needed dusted and polished. Every pillow and blankets needed to be fluffed and to be appropriately arranged. 

It also explained how you were feeling lately, the roiling nausea that never seemed to go away and just how irritable you had been recently. Snapping clipped comments at Michael and co-workers which was followed by immediate regret and some tears as you apologised and said it had just been a long week. After your fourth night spent being up all night with your head in the toilet, you promised Michael you would go to the doctor. 

Which you had this morning, Michael had dropped you off on his way into work and placed a kiss on your forehead as you promised to text him as soon as you were home. It had been a quick visit, the doctor looking at you amused as you listed your symptoms and told her how your husband was an ED doc and had been concerned. She laughed at that, rolling her eyes slightly as she made a small sarcastic comment about how an ED doctor hadn’t thought of the obvious. When you looked at her questioningly, there was suddenly a click in your own mind. 

The nausea, the tiredness, the mood swings, most damning of all was the missed period. It had been coming up to the busiest time of year for you at work, and you had just put it all down to stress. But no, you were pregnant. Joy had sparked in your body immediately, you and Michael had spoken about kids and had been trying for a few months now and this was your first success.

You were lucky your doctor's office has an ultrasound in it, doubling as a small OB clinic for pre-natal care, which is where you got the image now hanging on the fridge. It’s held close against the metal by a silly little magnet labelled ‘doctor robina-bitch’ that Garcia had given him during secret santa the year before, at the time he had rolled his eyes at it but he still cherished the item. 

You smile softly to yourself as your gaze drifts from the work report on your laptop to the fridge again, you couldn’t help it and had looked at it dozens of times in the last half hour since you had gotten home. The clock ticks over to 7:45 in the background, just about heard over the soft hum of music playing from the speakers of the laptop. Some instrumental songs meant to keep you focused. 

Then there's the click of keys in the door, the soft thud as it's gently pushed closed and the shuffling of limbs and feet as jackets and shoes are discarded and neatly put away. There’s a warm voice, like liquid honey, sweet and gentle and all yous.

“Honey?”

You look out to the hall, soft padded feet making their way towards you and your smile even wider, “In the kitchen”

Michael stops in the doorway for a second, leans against the frame with his arms crossed across his chest. You can visibly see the stress leaching from his body, how his shoulders melt and soften and the creases in his face seem to vanish as he eyes you up and down. Like all he needed in that moment was to know you were okay. 

“How was the doctors?”

Michael’s voice is soft, almost a whisper, as he takes steps towards you. Like he’s trying to bottle up the peace of this moment to keep in his pocket forever. You smile at him, warm, and he feels it in his bones. The serenity of finally being home. You let out a small hum of acknowledgement, hand almost going protectively to your stomach, but instead you reach your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. 

It’s soft, languid, full of love and every unspoken emotion coursing through your brain. His hands grip at your hips instinctively, thumb rubbing soft circles through the fabric of your clothes, as he returns the kiss. When you pull back, he places his forehead against yours and just lets it rest there for a few moments. His heart rate and breathing slowing down to match yours, his nervous system settling down after hours of adrenaline. 

He doesn’t ask for more details, knows you want him to relax and come back down to Earth first. He trusts you’ll tell him soon, your cryptic text of ‘doctors went well, will tell you more tonight’ lingering at the back of his mind and reminding him it wasn’t anything serious, if it was you would have already told him. 

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Michael breaks the silence first, one hand coming up to gently trail against your jaw as you lean your head against his palm. 

“No, I was waiting for you to come home.” 

He nods, almost imperceptively, and places a soft, fleeting kiss against your lips before he untangles from you. You don’t stop him as he makes his way to the fridge, head still turned slightly toward you as he pulls it open.

“Carbonara sound good?”

You can’t speak, nerves now sparking inside you as butterflies trample their way through your stomach, so instead you give a soft hum of agreement. Your eyes never leave his body as he pulls the ingredients out, you feel like you’re going to be sick. Anxiety lodging deeper inside of you, not for any negative reason, but because this was actually happening. Some part of your mind convinced you this wasn’t real until Michael found out, and now you were moments away from that happening. 

Michael’s now fully facing the fridge, the door closing gently and when it does, he stops. His hand hovering over the work bench where he was going to place the parmesan, like he’s frozen in time. There’s a beat of silence as he takes in what's in front of him. An ultrasound. With your name. With today’s date. And a very obvious, healthy baby. 

There’s silence for a beat, the only sound is the ticking of the clock and the soft music from your laptop, the rapid beating of your heart drowning even those out as you watch him. Then there’s gentleness, the parmesan being set down softly and a slow turn to you. Eyes wide, but so full of love that you can feel it in the air and bursting at the seams. One step. Then two. Then another and another until Michael is standing in front of you again. 

His eyes have softened around the edges, but the love is still there. His hand, warm and gentle, is placed so softly against your stomach you have to look down to be sure he’s even touching you. There’s no words, just a smile and a kiss to your forehead before Michael buries his head into the crook of your neck. 

Soft laughter bubbles out of him, tickling your skin and causing a wide smile to break out onto your lips. Another kiss against your skin, Michael beard tickling you and causing you to swat at him playfully as he pulls back. 

“Is this real?”

There’s disbelief in his voice, like he couldn’t have ever imagined this. But there’s happiness there too, at the edge of his words and in the way his mouth tilts upwards, one hand rubbing down his face as the news settles inside him when you nod your head. He kisses you again, this time firmer. More grounding. I love you written into the way he never moves his hand from your stomach and how he gently cups your cheek with the other. 

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧 [1648]

When Frank first walks into the apartment, he flinches back. It’s nothing bad, just different. The harsh fluorescent lights of the ED have probably burned and damaged his retinas and the scent of antiseptic and blood and general illness was baked into his skin to the point he was sure even a chemical peel wouldn’t remove them. 

But the light inside the apartment was warm, a soft halo glow against the night sky outside. It blanketed the place in hues of yellows and rainbow colours that danced across the floor as they filtered through lamp covers and the crystal shades around the ceiling light. The smell of something delicious, filled with rosemary and thyme and garlic and chilli, filled the space and melted away the weariness in his bones. It was divine. It was home. Warm and welcoming and safe. Somewhere he could strip away the title of ‘doctor’ and just be human. 

As he strips off his jacket and removes his shoes, he allows himself a moment reprieve. He takes a few deep, steadying breaths, his shoulders relax and drop slightly and almost curl in around him, finally able to let go of the weight he carries when in the ED. His heart rate steadies into a gentle thump against his ribs and not the pounding disaster it was before he stepped out of the hospital. 

It had been a long day, the steady flow of patients and traumas taking their toll on Frank. He could feel it in the weight of his limbs as he walked further into the apartment. In the stretch of his skin as he rubbed at his neck to try and work out the kinks. How his joints ached and popped as he moved. There was a heaviness in the dead center of his chest, grief and pain and adrenaline turning the sacred space into a massacre of blood and trauma and deaths he couldn’t avoid. 

He was tired. The kind of bone deep tired where the world felt too loud and still a little too small for all the emotions he was holding. So, when he sees you in the kitchen standing over the stove and adding in a pinch of salt to whatever incredible concoction you were making, he almost breaks. 

He steps behind you and you let out a small hum as you lean against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in tight against him as he buries his head in your neck. There’s a soft kiss placed against the skin, a rattling breath that tickles just a little and the shake of his chest. You know then, the day was tough. 

You don’t say anything, instead reaching a hand up to wrap around his neck and burying itself in his hair where you scratch gently at his scalp. He tightens his grip just a fraction at the sensation and you let him, knowing he needs this. He needs to be close to you. There’s a beat of silence, a clock ticking gently in the background, heart beats moving in sync. Your other hand meets his on your waist and you thread your fingers through his and give a reassuring squeeze. An unspoken promise of I’m here, I’ve got you. 

The weight in his chest is still there, but it's lightened. There’s still pain and grief, but it’s manageable no longer holding him in a vice grip so strong he was so sure he was going to pop. Adrenaline has left, leaving space for softness and love. His breath no longer rattles, but comes out in deep puffs as his nervous system resettles and goes back to harmony. 

You turn your head to him, placing a soft kiss against his hair as you do, your hand that was in his hair now cups his jaw and turns him gently so you can look him in the eye, “Dinner won’t be ready for another 45 minutes, this needs to sit and simmer, why don’t was go shower?”

His eyes are red rimmed from held back tears, but still soft and full of love as he nods and releases his grip on your waist. But he doesn’t let you go, instead he threads your fingers together and gently tugs you along to the bathroom at his side. 

As the water heats up, you help Frank undress, hands gentle against his skin as you remove his scrubs and throw them in the laundry basket. When you enter the shower, you let Frank stand under the water first and watch as his shoulders shrink and tension leaks away from his frame. As you rub soap and exfoliant into his skin, your hands are cold against the heat of the shower and jolt him a little but it’s a pleasant sensation. 

The tenderness and care you take as you lather him up, taking your time with the actions and making sure to pay particular attention to the knots in his back and where you know his main pain points are. Your voice is soft, feeling more like home than any building could, as you ask him to lean his head back so you can rub shampoo into the roots. He almost purrs as your fingers dig softly into his scalp. 

When you’re done, both of you washed and cleansed of the day, the hot water still streaming down and drowning out the loudness of the world, he reaches for you again. Pulls you against his chest and places a kiss against your lips. Firm, warm, grounding. A thank you and I love you without words. When you pull back, you offer a warm smile, hand reaching for his jaw where you rub soothing circles into the skin. 

“I have one more thing I need to do for dinner, but you take as much time as you need. Okay?” 

He places another, softer, kiss to your lips as he nods. He feels much better than he did when he first came home. His limbs were lighter, the aches and pains of before barely noticeable after the heat and your hands worked them out. The weight in his chest is still there but it's more of a phantom limb now than the cinder block it was before, a reminder rather than a hindrance that finally allows him to breathe. 

Frank stays in the shower a few moments longer, allowing not only himself but the world to take a breath. As he steps out, it's no longer too loud or too small. Noise doesn’t grate at his ears and finally he feels there's a space for him to exist, without his emotions boiling over. He notices, on the vanity, there is a set of sweat pants and an old jumper of his. They’re warm to the touch, you must have put them in the dryer for a few minutes before setting them down. 

He’s quick to dry and get dressed, emerging from the bathroom in a burst of steam. There’s soft music playing now, something off your shared playlist filling the empty space, and a candle burns on the island. Something sweet and fruity, though the only thing he can identify is an undercurrent of lavender. 

You smile at him as he pads towards you, hand reaching out to place down the cutlery. Your head tilts to the oven softly, “You mind grabbing what's in there while I finish setting up?”

“Yeah of course.”

He moves to the oven as you place down two bowls of steaming hot food, the warming stew you had made and a few rolls of bread, on the counter. Your eyes don’t leave him as you watch him open it, you see the slow blink of confusion. How his nose and eyes scrunch up a little as he pulls out a single bread bun. You try and fight the giggles that are rising, settling on a conspiratorial smile as you tilt your head to the side when he looks at you.

Then back to the roll, then back to you. He narrows his eyes and you think you can see and hear the sounds of the cogs turning in his brain. There’s a few seconds of stillness, a deep breath from the two of you as Frank sets the try down on the counter and turns the oven off. He’s still looking at the bun suspiciously, eyes darting back to you every few seconds. 

He knows something’s up, that it means something but the connection just isn’t there just yet.

“Honey, why is there a single roll in the oven?”

His eyes move to you again and you shrug your shoulders with a small giggle, unable to stop it now, “What, you mean the bun in the oven?” 

He freezes at your words, cogs finally slipping into place as the full picture comes to him. There’s another beat of silence, a moment where he doesn’t move and then before you can blink he’s over beside you with his arms wrapped tight around your chest as he lifts you in the air slightly. Your laughter overflows now, unrestrained and full of life, as you wrap your arms around his neck.

When he finally sets you on the ground, he keeps one arm around your waist as the other comes up to softly cup at your jaw as he places a soft kiss to your lips and leans his forehead against yours. There was pure joy in his eyes, bursting at the seams and lighting up his face. 

“Thank you.”

Frank's voice is soft, breathless, almost as if he doesn’t believe that you’re real. That this is real. You give him a quizzical look, eyebrows scrunching up and lips turning down slightly.

“For what?”

There's another soft kiss to your lips, then a whisper.

slow n steady always wins the race. a motto sae keeps firm when it comes to sex, no matter what he’s doing. when it comes to oral though..god. the agonizing drag of his tongue while he holds you by your hips, moving them against his mouth as he kissed your sensative clit before prodding his tongue against your hole. everytime you try to speed up your pace, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and waist to keep you in your place. he might as well be edging the fuck out of you until you finally feel the knot snap in two and gush all over your boyfriend’s mouth. sae, bedroom eyes and all, would admire your fucked out face and trembling body before flipping you onto your back and continuing where he left off. safe to say, you aren’t getting out of his grip until you squirted every last drop.

“s-sae..quit being a tease..” you stuttered, trying your hardest not to buck your hips. if it wasn’t for sae’s strength, you would’ve gone wild and full on rode his face like a madman. his whole arms wrapped around your thighs, gripping tighter then usual while he switched from your clit to your sensitive pussy. sae’s sharp, jade eyes staring up at yours. his pupils were blown with a burning desire all too clear to you, as if his tongue movements didn’t say enough. god, he was a patient one and it was getting on your last nerves. a thought he promptly smacked you out of with a simple strike to the ass.

“paitience, darling. or i’ll leave you like this, i can’t stand whiny whores who get greedy.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rin is more needier then his older brother, encouraging your carnal desires and egging you on as you rode his face as fast n hard as you please. the guy was basically making out with your cunt, open mouthed kisses and his tongue prying through your pussy had you gripping on the headboards or his hair. his hands roamed your body as he pleased, tracing his fingers against your stomach up to your sensitive nipples where he pinched and squeezed between his fingertips. don't think he'll stop either! long after you squirt all over his mouth, he'll only pull away just to take one long look at your fucked out face before he dives right back in again. rin gets pussydrunk a bit too easily, but why complain?

“rin..m-more, please..! i need more!” you begged and pleaded with a whine ripped straight from the jugular as you grinding your pussy against your boyfriend’s mouth. rin cracked open his eyes, through the blurred chaos, he admired your fucked out expression as you clung onto the wooden headboard for dear fuckin’ life. it was all too addictive to simple get off, how desperate and downright pussydrunk this man was, it’d be too cruel to pull away now! your thought process only strengthened when rin began to tug away at your sensative and soaked nipples from when he was mouthing at them earlier. he simply couldn’t get enough.

“stay with me..please, fuck! jus’ a little more, you can do that for me? please..?”

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

so much of a sloppy eater, it’s downright disgusting. shidou’s hands are unpredictable, switching from caressing and squishing the soft flesh of your ass to swatting away at it with quick strikes. don’t get me started on his oral anticts. this man is fucking eating away at your poor pussy, flicking his tongue against your sore clit while suckin’ n kissing at your abused hole. you couldn’t even move your hips with how much he’d just forced you down onto his mouth again, thus you had to sit there and simply take what he gives you, and god, the noises. besides your own moans and sobs for him to slow down, shidou’s downright animalistic growls and groans fill your ears and go straight into your cunt. don’t think he’s done either after you squirt into his mouth, oh no no! he’ll only push you onto your back with the hopes of you crushing his head with your thighs. he can’t get enough of you.

“haah..ah..r-ryu..” was all you could mutter out of your sore throat. after much whining and sobbing from the overstimulation, you could only make small noises of pleasure while shidou ate away like a man on death row. lapping up the remains of your last orgasm, he pried and pried at your hole until you swore he was tongue fucking you. grabbing fist fulls of his blonde hair only fueled the maniac to fuckin’ nip at your clit, an action that forced another intense orgasm out of your abused cunny and soaked his face even more then before. you could feel a smirk form of his lips before he landed a barrage of sharp slaps onto the flesh of your ass, dragging you out of your euphoric afterglow in time to feel his tongue pushing itself back in.

“c’mon sugar, don’t lose me now! we’re just getting started..! now, keep those pretty legs open..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

mister aiku here pays attention to both puss and ass with glee. when he told you to sit on his face, he meant it. there's nowhere that his mouth didn't touch, meaning you couldn't run from this man either. similar to shidou, he eats like a starved animal in front of a piece of meat. fingers pumping you full while he pays special attention to your poor clit with the occasional nips that would have you mewling and whining like a bitch in heat. but sadly, he's a greedy bastard when it comes to sex, pulling away right before you could have you sweet orgasm. heterochrome eyes staring daggers at your fucked out face while you pleaded for him to let you cum. you were almost in tears when oliver finally stuffed your twitching cunt with his fingers once again and went to town on your clit again. did i mention he pays attention to ass? that poor thing was covered in handprints and crecent shaped dents from how hard he was grabbing it. maybe, even a little bite mark for good measure.

“oliverrrr!” you whined out. "let me cum already! pleasee!" through tears, you could still see that bastard's shit eating grin. he was fucking enjoying this, getting off at your desperation while you bucked your hips at nothing. down there, oliver was enjoying the show he put together for himself and himself alone. his thumb ghosting over your neglected clit, his eyes flicking up to your own, pleading ones. you looked like a kicked puppy who didn’t get it’s owner’s attention, just like how oliver liked you. a shit eating grin stretched across his lips as he promptly gave your ass a hard slap before finger fucking your cunny at a furious pace. the noises it made sounded straight out of a porno as the pro player flicked his tongue around your clitty. it was all too much to handle at once, or so you claimed. you knew damn well oliver could see right through your teary eyes, and sniff out your disgusting, whorish fantasy.

“keep cryin’ like that and i’ll stop again, you hear me? i know you can pretty thing..i fuckin’ know you can.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

what a pervert, a proud one at that too! he couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself all day, something the grew more and more dangerously obvious as the day went on. sneaky hands up your skirt or down your pants, gentle squeezes on your inner thighs inching too close to your wet cunt. the final straw was when you caught him trying to look up your skirt/down your loose pants. dragging him all the way home where he couldn’t even wait to get to the bed and pushed you against the wall, kneeling in front of you while patting his cheek eagerly. clinging onto whatever door frame or counter was nearby as bachira pressed open mouthed, tongue heavy kisses against your spread pussy. he was a messy eater as well, going as far as to even spit on your cunny before diving back in with the intention of drowning in your juices. bachira was full on obsessed. nothing could tear him away from your cunny, no matter how hard you yanked his hair or tried to push his head away. he’ll always come back for more!

“o-oh god..bachira, baby..!” you sighed, clasping a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to not alarm the neighbors. bachira quickly noticed and yanked your hand away, staring up at you with the same crazed look he had all day. he didn’t tear his eyes off of you, forcing to maintain eye contact with him as he licked and macked with your ruined cunt. your knees felt weaker and weaker, probably because of the last orgasms your monster of a boyfriend gave you, yet he just refuses to quit! not the stinging pain of you gripping his hair or even your efforts to straight up push him away so he doesn’t suffocate to death in your pussy. bachira, in retaliation, forced your wrists against the wall and gives your cunt a mean spat. you flinched in shock, watching as he simply goes back to eating you out like a madman. fuck, thank god you made it home in time.

“don’t shy away from me! i’m only getting started, my love..don’t you want me to please you? hm?”

‧₊˚ ┊ Take this as a word of caution: getting freaky with Lilia is not for the faint of heart. For as old as he is, his stamina and physical abilities are better than some people a fraction of his age. Lilia will very thoroughly put you through your paces when he takes you to bed, but at least you'll be very satisfied in the end!

‧₊˚ ┊ Lilia has lived a long, long life. Over the years, he's had more than a few dalliances and flings, so he's got more than enough experience to make you see stars. All that time has also given Lilia the chance to refine his tastes, but he's certainly down to experiment! (Not much is 'new' to him since he's been around for scooping and has tried out so many things, so good job finding something he hasn't really dabbled in lol.)

‧₊˚ ┊ So, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. In my humble opinion, Lilia is the dominant party 90% of the time. He's used to leading and being in charge, so he just sort of naturally takes on that role in the bedroom. That being said, Lilia still upholds his playful demeanor about him when the two of you are getting frisky. (He absolutely will crack a joke while he's inside you lol.)

‧₊˚ ┊ As you might expect, Lilia is incredibly teasing in the bedroom. He lovesssss messing with you. Hearing you whine and beg for Lilia is always his number one goal. He's not afraid to play dirty — touching you everywhere but where you want him most and grazing his fangs over the delicate skin of your throat until you can't take it anymore. Lilia won't give you the relief you want until you beg for it, so you better be loud and proud about it. (The cheeky little shit will always play like he doesn't hear you the first few times you beg, even if you speak up. What can he say? He likes hearing you plead for him to fuck you. Is that such a crime?)

‧₊˚ ┊ Finally getting to some actual freaky stuff, let it be known that Lilia likes to tease you in public. He won't stick his hand down your pants or anything like that, but he might whisper something dirty in your ear and give it a little nibble while he's at it. If Lilka really wants to escalate things between you, then he'll whisk you away somewhere secluded where no prying eyes can bother you. (Edit: this came to mind while I was washing dishes, but he’d totally be into free use…)

‧₊˚ ┊ In that same vein, Lilia does quite like the thrill of fooling around semi-publicly. Of course, he doesn't actually want the two of you to get caught with your pants down, but the mere thought of getting caught excites him. Lilia does, however, prefer to keep things in the bedroom for the most part. Sure, eating you out in a storage closet between classes is good fun, but he'd much prefer to take his time and draw things out with you. (A good meal is meant to be savored, after all lol.)

‧₊˚ ┊ I wouldn't necessarily say that Lilia is a munch, but he does spend a lot of time between your thighs. Most of his foreplay is teasing, and that definitely reflects in how he eats you out. Lilia purposefully avoids lapping at your clit, and when he does give it any attention, it's a brief little nibble or fleeting graze of his fangs. If you beg nicely, though, then he'll reward you and give your little friend all the attention it wants.

‧₊˚ ┊ Lilia is really messy with it, like, dripping down his chin, puddle on the sheets type shit. He has a surprisingly dexterous tongue that he puts to very good use. It's a personal goal of Lilia's to make you cum at least twice on his face — and or fingers — before he fucks you properly. With his level of skill, he very easily meets said goal, but if he really wants to go the extra mile, then he'll try to make you squirt at least once.

‧₊˚ ┊ As you might expect, Lilia is very vocal during sex. He's a yapper and will run his mouth from start to finish. Mostly Lilia will tease you throughout, but if he's in a more nurturing mood, then he'll praise you and talk you through it. He'll use a lot of pet names, some of which are sweet, such as darling, good girl, and sweetheart. Lilia is more of a groaner than a moaner, but he's pretty vocal in that regard as well. (Bro is unafraid to moan in his girl's ear fr.)

‧₊˚ ┊ Breeding kink. Need I say more? I firmly believe that Lilia wants a whole hoard of kids. Specifically, I think he wants a few daughters because he's kinda tired of raising boys. This kinda goes hand in hand with the breeding kink, but I think Lilia likes cockwarming to keep you stuffed with his cum. Obviously, he'll pull out or wear a condom if that's what you prefer. If Lilia can't (Also, he'd totally have you cockwarm him — if you're up to it — while he games at his PC. He likes the closeness that it offers beyond the obvious breeding aspects to it.)

‧₊˚ ┊ Lilia's pace honestly depends on the day. Sometimes he goes tortuously slow just to make you whine and beg and cry — side note: he does have a very slight thing dacryphilia — and other times he'll pound into you with reckless abandon. Of course, he's accommodating to what you want and will go faster or harder upon request. Most of the time, Lilia keeps a steady pace — not too hard, but enough for you to feel it. (I don't feel like getting into specifics about Lilia… but what I will say is that the tip color is #C9938F. Do with that information what you will.)

‧₊˚ ┊ Lilia isn't too adventurous in regard to the positions he favors in the bedroom. He loves some good old-fashioned missionary which is only second to his beloved mating press. Lilia likes being able to see your face and all your reactions, so he tends to stay away from doggy and the like. Of course, if you want to switch it up, then he'll do doggy or prone bone. I know in my heart that Lilia is big on 69'ing, though it's just a feeling I can't shake. (He does want to try some crazy shit like fucking you upside down or while he's floating midair, but he's yet to work out the logistics just yet lol.)

‧₊˚ ┊ Okay, I'm just gonna speedrun some of the kinks I think Lilia would have because we'd be here all day if I went into depth with all of them. He's definitely into breeding, orgasm denial, semi-public sex, light choking, bondage, roleplay (ex: you as a princess and him ask your loyal knight), cockwarming, hair pulling, biting, marking, slight dumbification, dacryphilia, a mix of degradation and praise, and manhandling (he can toss you around like a sack of potatoes no matter your size). That's all I can think of off the top of my head, so forgive me for not including more.

‧₊˚ ┊ Finally, we're onto aftercare. You'll be thoroughly exhausted after fooling around with Lilia, so he'll handle cleaning up after the two of you. No matter what, he'll always lavish you with plenty of praise when the deed is done. Lilia will kiss you wherever he can, humbling about how good you were and how amazing you felt between pecks. He's incredibly doting and will practically wait on you hand and foot. Whatever you want, Lilia will provide it for you, but it's probably best that you don't ask him to make you any food if you're feeling hungry. After you're all settled, he'll pull you close and bask in the afterglow of your love-making. More often than not, Lilia will stay awake long after you fall asleep, watching you snooze until swell sees fit to take him as well.

The safehouse smelled like beer, weed, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of old blood. You sat stiffly on the worn couch across Ben, hands folded in your lap, trying not to look as uncomfortable as you felt. Butcher had given you one job while the rest of The Boys were out chasing leads on Homelander: babysit Soldier Boy.

“Don’t let the cunt blow up the place or run off.” Butcher had grunted before leaving. “And don’t let him fuck with your head too much, yeah?”

Easier said than done.

Ben sat on the couch like he owned the damn place, legs spread wide, shield leaning against the wall, he watched you with that lazy, predatory smirk. He’d been out of the ice for a few weeks now, and he was still adjusting to the new world. Mostly by drinking, doing drugs, complaining, and eyeing you like you were something interesting.

“You’re awfully quiet over there, kid. He drawled, voice rough and dripping with that old-school arrogance. “What’s a smart little thing like you doing running with Butcher’s suicide squad anyway?”

You shifted, cheeks warming. You were the youngest in the group at twenty, reserved and awkward even on your best days. Smart, you handled most of the research and tech, but you hated being the center of attention.

“Just…doing my part to take Homelander down.” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Ben chuckled, low and mean. He stood up slowly, towering over you as he crossed the room. He dropped onto the couch right beside you, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours.

“Smart little thing, ain't ya?” He reached over and tapped your temple with one thick finger. “Got a big brain in there. I can tell. You talk all proper and shit. Cute.”

You swallowed hard. Something about the way he said it made heat crawl up your neck. He was crude, arrogant, and dangerous… but there was something magnetic about him. The way he carried himself like the world still belonged to men like him.

“I’m not that smart.” You said quietly.

Ben’s grin widened. “Oh, we’ll see about that, boy.”

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The first day passed in tense quiet. Ben drank. You read through old Vought files on your laptop. But every time you looked up, he was watching you. Studying you. Like he was planning something.

By the second night, he’d had enough of your silence.

You were making coffee in the tiny kitchen when he came up behind you. His big body caged you against the counter, hands planted on either side of you.

You stiffened the moment you felt him.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good.” He murmured against your ear. “Always thinking. Always watching. I bet that pretty head of yours never shuts off.”

You froze, heart hammering. “Soldier Boy? what are you—”

“Shh.” One of his hands slid down your side, possessive. “I’ve been thinking. A smart boy like you would be a lot happier if he stopped thinking so much. If he let a real man take care of all that heavy brain shit.”

His hand slipped under your shirt, palm rough against your stomach. You shivered.

“I could help you with that.” He whispered. “Turn you into my dumb little thing. Nice and empty. Just feeling. Just taking what I give you.”

You should have pushed him away. Instead, your breath hitched.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

He started slow.

That night, he pulled you onto his lap on the couch while some old war movie played. His hands roamed — innocent at first, then less so. He rubbed your thighs, squeezed your ass, whispered filthy praise in your ear.

“Look at you. So tense. So full of thoughts. Let Daddy take care of it.”

The word “Daddy” made your stomach flip. You were too shy to protest.

He started edging you. Hours of slow, teasing touches. Rubbing you through your pants until you were leaking and whimpering, then stopping right before you could cum. Every time you got close, he’d pull back and tap your temple.

“Too much thinking again, huh? Poor dumb boy. Can’t even cum without getting all worked up in that head.”

By the third day, you were a mess. Sleep-deprived, constantly aching, and starting to feel fuzzy around the edges. Ben loved it.

He had you on your knees in front of him that afternoon, fully naked while he stayed half dressed. His thick cock rested heavy on your tongue as he lazily fucked your mouth.

“That’s it.” He groaned. “Suck Daddy’s cock like a good little dummy, don’t think, just suck. Good boys don’t need brains. They just need to be useful.”

You whimpered around him, eyes watering. Your mind felt hazy, overwhelmed by the taste and stretch. Every time you tried to focus, he’d thrust deeper and praise you.

“Look at that, smart boy’s already getting stupid for my dick. Fucking adorable.”

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The breaking point came on the fourth night.

Ben had you spread out on the bed, legs pushed wide open. He’d been eating you out for nearly an hour — slow, filthy, relentless. Every time you got close to cumming, he’d pull back and slap your thigh.

“Not yet, pup. Good dumb boys wait for permission.”

You were crying by then. Tears of frustration and overwhelming pleasure. Your usually sharp mind had dissolved into static and need.

“P-please, Ben… I can’t think—”

“That’s the point.” He growled, crawling up your body. His thick cock nudged against your soaked entrance. “You don’t need to think anymore. You just need to take Daddy’s cock and get fucked stupid.”

He pushed inside you in one brutal thrust.

You cried out, back arching. He was so big, stretching you open, filling you completely. Ben groaned in satisfaction, hips snapping forward hard.

“Fuck, that’s tight, that little cunt is finally getting what it needs.”

He fucked you like a soldier on a mission— deep, powerful strokes that punched the air out of your lungs. Every thrust seemed designed to scramble your brain further.

“Say it.” He demanded, gripping your jaw. “Tell Daddy you’re getting dumb for him.”

“I’m— Fuck, I’m getting dumb—” You gasped, voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot inside you.

“Louder.”

“I’m getting dumb for you!” You moaned.

Ben let out sharp groan, he fucked you harder, one hand reaching down to rub your clit in tight, mean circles.

“That’s my good boy. No more big thoughts, no more being all quiet and smart. Just my drooling little fucktoy.”

You were sobbing now, pleasure ripping through you like lightning. Your mind felt blank, fuzzy, deliciously empty.

He leaned down and bit your neck, making you squirm as he left marks there, thrusting savagely. “Gonna keep you like this. Keep fucking all those smart thoughts out of your head until the only thing you know how to do is spread your legs and take my cock.”

You came so hard you saw stars, walls clenching around him as your mind went completely white. Ben followed with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding your cunt with thick, hot cum.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you through it, pushing his cum deeper, growling filthy praise the entire time. “Look at you. Such a smart kid when I found you, now you’re just Daddy’s stupid little cumdump. Isn’t that better?”

You could only whimper and nod, too fucked-out to form real words.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

By the time The Boys were due back, you were a changed person.

Still shy on the surface, still quiet. But when Ben looked at you, your eyes were softer. Glassier. You followed him around the safehouse like a lost puppy, constantly seeking him.

The night before the others returned, Ben had you on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he pounded into your sloppy, cum-filled cunt.

“You’re mine now.” He growled, sweat dripping down his muscular chest. “My perfect dumb boy. No more thinking. No more being useful to Butcher, you’re just gonna be my pretty little toy from now on. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

When the others finally came back, they noticed something was different. You were quieter than usual. More spaced out. You stayed close to Soldier Boy’s side like you belonged there.

Butcher narrowed his eyes. “The fuck did you do to our best analyst, you cunt?”

When you reached the top after who knew how long, your skin was itching, breasts feeling sore and pussy drooling with arousal. Irritated, you struggled to take off your wet clothes, disliking the way they clung to your body. Then you reached down, the unexpected touch of your own cold fingers making you flinch and whine in frustration.

“Oh my, what do we have here?”

The sudden voice, like stones rubbing against each other, caused you to jump.

“Haha, no need to be afraid…”

And before your wide eyes, a figure stepped out of the shadows, into the pale light painted by raindrops trailing down the big round window behind. A head crowned by horns, bat-like wings sprouting from the back and a flexible tail coiling around the legs, a naked man made of stone bowed down to you.

“It’s just us,” he said as lightning flashed and distant thunder rolled across the sky, the blinding white light revealing more shadows like him, “the guardians of this church.”

Like the sound of falling pebbles, the voices of the gargoyles rang out. They chuckled and whispered, their cocks dangling right before your eyes.

The first gargoyle seemed to notice your gaze, and his voice took on a pitying tone. “Oh no, how did that happen? You’re all… wet!”

You looked at him, close to crying, “Help…”

He exchanged looks with the others, silently exchanging their thoughts, and then smiled and nodded, “Sure.”

“Boss, you first, you first…”

“Go for it!”

“She’s so pretty…”

“I want to go next!”

“No way, go after me!”

“Don’t fight…”

“Well then, don’t mind me~”

With that, the first gargoyle stepped forward and brought you in position. Facing the window with rain running down in rivulets, head down on a hastily dusted off cushion they got from god knew where and ass up, the gargoyle’s tail nudged your knees apart while his hands grabbed your ass cheeks. The cold, heavy touch sent a shiver up your spine, and as his hands spread your flesh, slick dripped from your pussy.

Then a rock teased your entrance. Its small, rounded tip slid up and down between your wet folds, circling around your clit before returning to your hole and slipping in. The deeper it went, the wider it got, until it forced your hole so wide open you whimpered. Afterwards, he quickly pulled out, only to slowly slide back in. Again and again, he sank into you, gradually stretching your pussy and allowing you to take him deeper and deeper.

At this point, you realized he was using his tail to fuck you.

He was preparing you.

His tip grazed your sensitive spot, making you whine and buck your hips. You wanted, no, needed him deeper, faster, rougher.

But just then, the gargoyle pulled out.

“Please…!”

He chuckled, “May I?”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, ah—!”

With one swift stroke, the gargoyle entered your sopping wet pussy with his cold, hard stone cock. Your walls clenched around the tapered tip, bulging mid-section and narrower base, feeling his outline. It was so hard it almost hurt, lacking any give or flexibility, but right then, mind almost blackout drunk on aphrodisiacs, that felt heavenly.

The gargoyle adjusted his grip on your ass, tail wrapping around your waist and dangling down to tease your asshole with its slicked up tip still carrying your temperature, and started thrusting. Slow and steady, he pulled back until his tip was barely still inside you before pushing back in. His slightly rough texture dragging along your walls perfectly soothed the itch you felt there, causing you to moan softly as you relaxed.

A few stone hands reached out to give you more pillows. Then they stroked your back, arms, head and cheeks, one finger even dipping into your mouth to press down on your tongue.

And right then, the gargoyle fucking you slammed into your pussy.

A jolt went through you as he hit a certain spot. Unable to close your mouth, you moaned loudly, and your pussy squelched with every hard plunge into your depths from how wet you were. It made you feel more and more excited, especially with all the other gargoyles watching, your eyes rolling and chest heaving, like an animal in heat.

All you could manage was a pathetic whine before you came. Your pussy fluttered, clearly feeling his canine-like shape and slightly rough texture pressing into your wet, tender walls.

Behind you, the gargoyle sped up. Delicious friction left your abdomen pulsing and your hole dripping, while the knot at the base of his cock pounded against your drenched folds. His stone body was stained by your aphrodisiac-induced heat, seemingly almost melding into your body, and your slick spread over his knot, resulting in an additional wet smacking noise.

When you came the second time, the gargoyle rammed his hard, fist-like knot into your sopping pussy.

You screamed at the sudden sensation of fullness. Your eyes rolled and your walls fluttered, stimulated by his continuous shallow thrusts. His punishing pace left you incoherent and trembling from bliss, his knot pulling on your pussy and stretching you further. And all the while, the other gargoyles were still teasing you, holding your mouth open. Each of your loud and high-pitched gasps, moans and whines was forced out of you, for all to appreciate as you were fucked.

A moment later, the gargoyle grunted. Without warning, thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock and were pumped into your depths. It was noticeably warm, with a weight and consistency to it that reminded you of mortar.

Unable to control yourself, another orgasm rolled over you. Your pussy clenched around the stone knot, fluttering so hard your abdomen hurt a little.

The gargoyle patted your ass reddened by his vice grip with a chuckle and pulled out. He had fucked you so well his knot popped out with ease, leaving your hole gaping and slowly dripping slick. Its sight drew some chuckles and other sounds from the surrounding gargoyles. From the corner of your eye, vision blurred by the raging aphrodisiac and recent tears of bliss, you even saw a few rubbing their cocks.

Seeing them, you bit down on your lip. The heat in your abdomen that had just calmed flared up again, making your blood boil with arousal. Sweat dripped down your skin and you felt a little lightheaded, panting and writhing with need.

One of the gargoyles patted your head and trailed his fingers down your spine, cooing something. At the same time, his tail tip pressed against your clit, making you twitch sensitively at the cold, hard touch.

He laughed, yet refused to enter you. All he did was caress your sweaty back and tease your clit. It was agonizing in the best way, a sweet torture that slowly led you to the edge yet left you hanging just as you were about to fall. Too little to come, yet too much to cool down again. Steadily keeping you there, listening to your moans, until he had enough. The gargoyle replaced his tail with his fingers and gently knead.

You came as if a button had been pressed. Eyes rolling back and body spasming wildly, something in your abdomen unraveled and liquid squirted from your pussy.

Laughter like falling rocks rumbled in your ears. A crackle sounded, like stone rubbing against stone, and you could feel their gazes boring into you, clinging to your naked body. They were watching, all watching you. Watching your slick and sweat drip, your thighs shift, your clit twitch. Like they were fucking you with their eyes.

These thoughts mixed with the aphrodisiac and turned you on, winding up the tension in your belly like a spring.

Sensitive from all the stimulation, you trembled when you were touched again. The gargoyle turned you over, onto your back, and lifted your legs. Bedded on the cushions, your hips were raised to the perfect height for the gargoyle to enter you, letting you see how your greedy hole swallowed his knobbly cock bit by bit. It looked like tightly squeezed soap bubbles and felt like a scaled-down version of the bumpy cobblestone streets outside, ending in an uneven knot at the base.

He gently held your thighs whetted by your slick as he thrust, going neither deep nor fast but patiently rubbing his knobbly cock along your walls. His pace combined with your post-climax heightened sensitivity made you moan and unconsciously tilt your hips like you wanted him to go deeper. Yet the gargoyle maintained his pace, steady as a rock. In and out, back and forth, the knobbly texture caressed your insides. It was calm to the point of being agitating, almost as bad as merely playing with your clit.

Finally, when you were moaning desperately, he worked his uneven knot into you. As it pressed against your g-spot, you came with a cry, while he grunted and pumped a rope of thick, heavy, mortar-like cum into you. The sensation of it settling in your belly mixed with your orgasm, further dragging it out.

You didn’t even notice how he pulled out and was replaced.

Or rather, you barely felt him at all. Only his tip grazed your walls like a mean tease, until he slid his knot in. He fucked you in a frenzy, knot rubbing over your g-spot, and just as your pleasure was building nicely, he already came, dumping his load of weighty cum into you.

Before you could whine about the emptiness you were filled once more. Legs propped up against the gargoyle’s chest and knees over his shoulders, his straight cock sank into your pussy. Stone barbs lightly caught on your entrance and were forced in, pressing into your wet walls like a massage stick. Holding onto your thighs, he started thrusting, gradually speeding up until your breasts bounced and your hands tried to find something to hold onto.

Thick cum was compressed by his cock head, pounded deeper into you with each addictive repetition. Wet squelches and your moans filled the air, accompanied by the clinking of stone and the heavy scent of lust.

Your eyes rolled as you came. Pussy fluttering and spasming, pleasure coursed through your veins and calmed the boiling heat as the gargoyle fucked you through your orgasm. Yet relief was denied, lust reignited before it could extinguish. It sent you back into the throes of ecstasy as the gargoyle plowed you, raking your walls until they were tender.

When you trembled with your next orgasm, he buried his knot inside your fucked raw pussy. Thick cum was pressed deeper into your core and added to by him, your lower abdomen noticeably bulging from the amount.

After a long while, he pulled out with a wet plop.

Your hole gaped from being repeatedly knotted. The flesh inside was red from the constant stimulation, feeling puffy and burning faintly.

And yet, the gargoyles’ next actions came as no relief.

The following cocks were smaller than the others with less novel textures, but they all got creative before dumping their cum into your pussy. One fucked you slowly while kneading your breasts and using your dripping slick to tease your asshole with his tail tip, relishing in how it dripped from between your folds. Another turned you onto your belly and fingered your pussy until his fingers were dripping wet so he could prep your ass, stretching the little bud into a blooming flower before pushing his cock alternately into your pussy and your ass. And you didn’t know who started it, but he used his cock and tail to fuck your two holes simultaneously, keeping you on edge with their sometimes slow and sometimes fast pace and denying you your orgasm until the very end.

When they were done with you, sweat was flowing down your spine and your belly was swollen from how much thick, heavy cum pressed down on your womb. Your eyes were unfocused, your holes gaping, and faint bruises were already covering your skin.

Just as you vaguely thought they were done, another pair of hands gripped you. Large and steady, they turned you onto your back and pressed your legs up until your knees neared your ears. In this position, you were forced to present your puffy, gaping pussy to the gargoyle towering above you. Outlined by the faint light shining into the little room through the round window behind him, you saw broad shoulders and large wings, adonis-like abdominal muscles hewn into the stone torso, and a big, fat, curved, exaggeratedly veiny cock hanging between his thick thighs.

The gargoyle sounded a little bashful as he apologized before penetrating you with his enormous cock head.

Your sopping wet hole was stretched to its limit, quietly squelching as centimeter after centimeter sank in. Folds spread and erect clit twitching, just the tip had your eyes already rolling. When he was one third in, you felt him push the mortar-like cum filling your channel being pushed deeper inside, and by the time he was two thirds in, you felt him bottom out, carved veins pressing firmly into your walls. The pulse of pleasure as he completely filled you made you throw your head back and your muscles spasm as slick squirted from your pussy like a broken sprinkler.

Blood rushed through your ears, deafening loud. Every little touch and move made you pant like an animal in heat. You couldn’t tell whether you were screaming or crying or trembling. All you knew was that you were stuffed with cum and cock. A cum-dump being fucked into oblivion by monster cocks. So cock-drunk you couldn’t tell up from down.

When the gargoyle slowly pulled back, your folds clung to his girth. His veins and distinct cock head dragged over your already overstimulated g-spot, and when he once more sank into your depths, you came again, pussy fluttering.

The large gargoyle grunted. He rolled his hips with great patience, letting you get used to his monstrous size before speeding up. With every thrust, he got faster and plunged in deeper, eventually pounding both his cock and the other gargoyles’ accumulated cum into you. His hips drenched by your slick slapped against your forcefully bent up ass and folds, wet smacks matching the rhythm of your heartbeat until overtaking it.

You felt him in your gut and at the back of your throat, fucking the air out of your lungs and making your pussy gush. He left you in a constant state of overwhelming pleasure, and when he finally somehow rammed his fat knot into your abused hole, you came so hard you blacked out.

And all the while, the large gargoyle still rocked his hilted cock inside you, showing his big outline from your pussy through your abdomen, knot grinding against your g-spot while his tip pressed the others’ cum against your cervix. Then with one last roll of his hips, cramming himself as deep into you as he could, he came. A thick rope of heavy cum erupted from his length, more and more of it pumping into you until your stomach bulged as if pregnant.

He pulled out with some difficulty, producing a loud squelch and leaving your thighs red and trembling from his hold, your hole so stretched one could see the cum stuffing you. Looking at his masterpiece, he paused for a moment, then flicked your clit.

You moaned and shuddered reflexively from the current this touch sent through your body.

Despite how spent you were, how tired and thirsty, you still… hadn’t had enough.

Abused by the aphrodisiac and gargoyle cocks, you’d already been trained into wanting this.

As such, it was to your great pleasure when they continued. Big, small, knobbly, smooth — each and every one of the twelve gargoyles fucked their knot into your pussy at least once and dumped their cum into you. They filled you until there was so much the bigger ones couldn’t fit anymore and took to fucking your stretched ass, only to switch back to your pussy just as they were about to cum.

By the end, everyone was fucking your ass with their cocks wet from your slick and stuck their tips into your pussy to use you as cum dump, until it overflowed. Thick glops of it fell out of your pussy, hole stretched so much it couldn’t close, slowly dripping down and landing on the floor with a splat.

Your whole body was numb and sweaty and trembling, brain fucked empty, and your stomach bulged from the copious amounts of mortar-like cum, heavy and stuffed to the brim. Small spasms caused by your uncountable orgasms caused your pussy to contract around the still pliable yet gradually hardening substance filling you, finally making you pass out from overstimulation.

When you regained consciousness, it was already the next day. You were dead tired, extremely hungry, your limbs heavy, and there was still something thick and hard plugging your fucked raw pussy. It was so bad that just turning over left you drained of strength and panting for breath.

When you dizzily reached between your shaking legs, you felt something hard sealing your entrance. Your folds were covered by it, also reaching your clit and ass like some kind of strange sex toy. Experimentally pulling on it sent a shiver of pleasure up your spine and forced a hoarse moan over your burning vocal cords, immediately making you recall the events of last night.

Shocked, you looked down at yourself and gaped at the sight.

Your belly, no, your entire abdomen bulged, from your bellybutton to your folds. It made your skin stretch, a hardness hiding beneath the soft flesh and leaving you unable to tense your muscles without gasping in pleasure and overstimulation alike.

By now, it was clear: That thing stuffing your pussy was the gargoyles’ hardened cum.

It had filled your gaping hole to the brim and perfectly molded according to your shape, then hardened over night, or maybe once the daylight shone on it. Either way, just lightly tugging on it sent fresh currents along your nerves, forcefully reigniting your arousal.

With tears gathering in your eyes, you bit your lip and took deep breaths as you removed the dildo of hardened gargoyle cum from your pussy. Your slick eased the action, yet it fit so well and reminded you so much of the insanity of last night that you couldn’t resist fucking yourself on it. Every dip and bulge was a faint memory of the gargoyles’ cocks, especially the knot-like shape towards your entrance. Only the flared tip was new, wonderfully kissing your cervix every time you completely swallowed it.

By the time you finally pulled the pillar out of your hole, you’d come three times and were feeling lightheaded.

Your entire body trembled as you slowly dressed. The clothes were a little crispy from getting drenched in rain last night, but you couldn’t afford to care about it. Only, when you were fully clothed, you glanced at the hardened cum dildo and fell into a long moment of hesitation.

You couldn’t just… leave it here. What if someone else found it? But how were you supposed to get this thing out of a church…?

Ah.

Both ashamed and excited, you pulled down your pants.

And as you worked the pillar back into your ravaged pussy, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed with lust, a dozen pairs of dim, stony eyes stared at you, silently watching.