Always simping :)

The first time he got access to the files on your computer, he spent about four hours reading through your old school reports. He didn’t mean to, of course, it wasn’t like he’d sat down at his desk and decided he was gonna read all of your old essays from high school english class. You just had such a clear voice, even in your writing, he could practically hear you read it aloud to him when his eyes skimmed over the pages through the glare of his screen’s brightness. He read every file he could get his hands on, from the half-page sociology report on American cultural changes through history to the seven-page chapter assignment from AP Government, even if the topic were enough to bore him out of his skull- it was your writing. You’d probably sat at your desk, looking at that same document- nope, stopping that train of thought. He didn’t need to start an association between getting hard and American high school government classes.

Scrolling back through your other files, he’s quick to spot the folder labelled “boring nonsense” inside your “miscellaneous typed works” (god, you were so cute, spelling out the whole word instead of just writing misc.) folder and honestly? He sure wasn’t expecting what he found.

Three word documents, all different lengths and word counts, all labelled ‘DO NOT READ’.

Well, if you’re going to have things you don’t want read, you probably shouldn’t label them do not read because that just makes whomever stumbles across said writings more likely to read them, and really, Wilbur reasoned as he opened the top file, if you didn’t want anyone to read them you’d probably have deleted them, so they must have some importance and they must be something you enjoy! He could learn something new about you.

The first page was completely blank.

As he scrolled through, all 3 pages were exactly the same- he was about to give up, assume they’d been deleted when he accidentally highlighted over part of the page and words, colored white to blend into the page, showed through the blue outlining.

Fuck, you were so clever!

He paid little attention to what was actually written until he’d switched the font color to something more readable, scrolling back to the top of the document.

God, he’s just so pretty, want him to hold me in his lap while he’s busy at his computer, get stuffed full of his cock and just stay there. Wanna kiss his neck and hear him moan when I shift on top of him, call him pretty, my pretty boy, Will, always so good to me.

Wilbur was frozen. Not only were you writing out your fantasies (god help him, he’s already getting hard), but you were writing out your fantasies that you had about him. Fuck, he wasn’t gonna even try to hold out, already working to free himself from his jeans as he kept reading.

Want him to keep me in his lap even when i’m sleeping, always wanna be near him, keep him happy so he never needs to think about anyone but me. Wanna suck him off like he deserves, all sloppy and messy and slow, doesn’t even matter if I can’t take it all. Do men like it when you choke on their dick, or is it hotter to take it all without a problem?

Wilbur groaned aloud, squeezing his fist tight at the base of his cock, letting himself calm down. Shit, you must have some sort of spell over him, getting him this worked up this quickly? You were dirtier than he’d thought, and he’d probably have been a little disappointed if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

Bet he’d look so fucking good when he’s close. Can’t even decide if I want him to cum down my throat, let me taste him and lick him clean, or fill me up, breed me so good, make me all full of his cum. Maybe he’d do both, keep me all full and happy in every way I want to be. Want to stay under his desk while he’s working, keep him all warm and cozy with my mouth. Or keep him inside me and sit on his lap. Wonder how long we could stay like that, without any practice, how often it’d end in getting fucked up into.

It took him three tries to hit the button properly, minimizing the document and pulling up another, fixing the font color for this one too. He almost cried when he realized they were all the same thing, just long-winded rambles about anything and everything you wanted to do to him, what you wanted him to do to you, what you wanted him to say.

God, how hadn’t he noticed? He thought you were just being nice, how long had you liked him for? Had you liked him longer than he’d liked you?

The buzz of his phone startled him, shoving his cock back inside his pants like a guilty teenager before checking who was calling-

Shit, why did you always seem to know when he was thinking about you?

He took a deep breath and answered, trying to keep his voice from shaking when he responded to your cheery hello. He almost froze when you asked to drop by, saying you had to ask him about something- he was quick to grab his mouse and shut down the documents, agreeing hopefully as casually as possible as you laughed and told him great, you were already outside his door and told him not to leave you waiting for too long. His stomach dropped when he realized he was still obviously hard, trying his best to hide it as he stood from his desk and hid as much of the “uncomfortable” stuff as he could from his computer screen. He heard you knock twice on the front door, cursing under his breath as he hurried over and pulled it open, smiling at you shyly.

“Uh, hi. Hi.”

“Hey.” Shit, you looked so pretty. Ah, fuck he was blocking the door-

“Sorry, come in.”

“You’re fine, don’t worry.”

You passed by him and stood in the small living space, holding your bag a little tightly. He saw your eyes wander down his form and he knew you saw he was hard, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide it as best he could, hoping the blush he could feel creeping up his neck wasn’t too obvious. Fuck, he couldn’t even look at you without thinking about how good you’d look on your knees under his desk- No. No, not now, you’re right there, god-

“I know you know now.”

Wilbur didn’t even realize his face had gone pale; He was far too busy panicking, overthinking everything he’d said so far, shit should he apologize? He should apologize, of course he should, but how? For what? What did you know that he knows?

“Wilbur.”

You’re touching him. You’re touching his face. It seems far too cliche for him to say all of the thoughts go quiet, but he’s suddenly far more clear-headed and he’s able to focus on your eyes.

You’re quick to tell him you aren’t mad, you aren’t upset with him or anything of the sort. You knew he wouldn’t make a move, of course, and then you’re pulling your hands back and you look shy and fuck he should probably say something-

“I found- um.”

You tilt your head at him. You look so calm, he knows you didn’t mean for those to be found- ah, fuck it. Wilbur held out a hand to you, and when you took it, led you into his room, over to his desk, and pulled up the files again.

The shock and slight horror on your face showed him everything he needed to know- He grabbed your hand again, making sure you didn’t run out of the room in embarrassment as heat crept up your cheeks.

“I, um, I just found them before you called…”

You nod shyly, before a pause and he rolls his chair back, patting his lap.

You’re almost desperate when you kiss him, straddling his hips and grinding against his bulge. He groans into the kiss, holding your hips almost reverently, as if afraid you’ll disappear if he squeezes too tight- lord knows how devastated he’d be if this were to stop. It’s only when he’s getting too close to the edge that he stops you, pausing your hips and the whine you let out is almost too much, his hands almost painfully tight on your outer thighs.

“Fuck, I can’t- need you, please-”

You’re nodding before he’s even done speaking, shifting to pull your pants and underwear off while he pushes his jeans down past his knees. When you swing back over his lap you’re already lining him up with your entrance, sinking down with a long, low moan that Wilbur echoes, eyes fluttering closed and head rested back against his headrest in bliss.

Your mind’s far too fuzzy to stop your words right now, eyes drifting over every part of him you can as you mumble, “Shit, you’re so pretty, Wil.”

You wouldn’t have thought much of it if it weren’t for the strangled whimper and the almost imperceptible tightening of his grip on your thighs. You smile, almost lazily, as you curl yourself up in his lap, burying your head in his shoulder.

“So good,” you whisper, “Fill me so well, so big.”

You can practically feel him get harder inside you, if that was even possible. You keep mumbling, face buried in the join of his neck and collarbone so you can’t see his face, but Wilbur’s eyes are still squeezed shut. In all honesty, he’s a bit overwhelmed, feeling you not only wrapped around him and draped over him, your body tucked against his so perfectly it’s like you were made to be there, but hearing you call him sweet pet names, call him pretty, tell him how good and big and perfect he is and it isn’t long before he’s trying to stifle a sob, but you catch it anyways and shoot up from your position, cupping his face in your hands in alarm.

He shakes his head, trying to pull away and cover his face but you don’t let him, wiping his tears away with your thumb and it only makes him cry harder. You almost look like you’re gonna cry too, pulling him to you and letting him hide his face in your chest, wrapping your arms around him and stroking through his hair.

“I- it’s just-” He has to swallow down another sob, blinking back more tears, “Nobody’s ever- ever been this… nice before. Not- not to me, at least.”

“Oh, Wil…” you pull him towards you, gently resting his forehead against yours. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hide how pathetic he felt with a watery laugh.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he whispers, but he leans into your touch and his eyes flutter open to look into yours and you just smile, kissing him sweetly.

“Never.”

He almost sobs again, face contorting a bit to keep the tears back but you reach up and smooth over the swell of his cheeks, smiling.

“You even look pretty when you cry,” You whisper, “Always so pretty.”

He gets distracted when you start to rock your hips against his, pulling away a little bit to hide your face in his shoulder again. Wilbur tries to let you go at your own pace, tries to keep his hips still but you know him too well already, you know what he wants and you lift off him just a little bit, hovering with barely any of him inside you. You both try not to whine from the loss.

“Fuck me,” you mumble, “However you want, I’m yours.”

The relieved groan he lets out when he finally fully seats himself inside you is absolutely angelic; you buck your hips slightly to meet his thrusts halfway, both of you moaning out and it’s a rather quick spiral into both of you chasing your highs, Wilbur’s hands practically searing marks into your skin.

“Close, wanna- fuck- want me to cum inside you?” He mumbles in your ear, panting. You almost sob at the idea, nodding frantically.

“Please, fill me up, breed me, stuff me full, please-”

Only two, three more thrusts and he’s pulling you down onto him as tight as possible, feeling warmth spill inside you as even in the midst of blinding pleasure Wilbur’s quick to drift a hand down between your bodies to help you out, kissing you and working you through your own orgasm.

You stay there for a minute, breathing labored, and Wilbur helps clean you both off a little bit with the tissues he has on his desk- but the second he goes to lift you off him, make sure you can really get cleaned up, you whine and hug his torso closer to you.

“You have to clean up-”

“-Wanna stay like this,” you whisper, voice muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. “Please?”

If there was one surprise in your relationship, it was your stamina.

Considering Sam & Puffy were hybrids, both seasoned warriors with strong bodies and they could go for hours if they really wanted. Considering how much smaller you were than both of them (6’7 and 6’5, respectively, and built like weightlifters), you really shouldn’t have been able to go for as long as they could.

“There’s no way you’re not done.”

You’ve already came twice, from both Sam & Puffy fucking you thoroughly. Sam’s cum was still dripping out of you, the inside of your thighs wet from your own orgasm and from his but you were propped up on your elbows sending them a pleading look. “You’re still hard,” You whine, gesturing to Sam’s cock curving up from between his thighs. Puffy let out a chuckle, reaching up to smooth your hair back as you leaned into the touch.

“Just once more, right?”

You let out another whine, this one incomprehensible as you let your top half flop back down on the bed, your legs falling open to give them an inviting view. “Not like ‘m gonna break, I can go for longer!”

Sam and Puffy shared a look; after a silent conversation, they came to an agreement, Puffy sliding back between your legs as Sam knelt beside your head. You were quick to prop yourself up again, eyes lighting up as you looked between them to see who would start first, Puffy taking the lead and slowly pushing back into you. Your head falls back, a low keen leaving you as she fills you up, peppering kisses on your neck and collarbones.

Sam coos, petting your hair and threading his fingers in it, gentle but firm as he guides your head to his cock. “So greedy, huh doll? Always begging to be filled, even if you just were, can’t get enough of Miss’s strap, huh?”

You’re still a little out of it, Puffy’s strap sitting so nicely against your spot and making you feel so full as your lips barely part, beads of precum smearing against your lips like gloss and your tongue pokes out to taste it.

“Aw, baby, you can do better than that, suck daddy’s cock like you mean it,” Puffy says, still pressing kisses to your neck as she’s slowly pulling out. “Make him feel good so I can make you feel good, hm?”

You nod and take Sam down your throat, bobbing your head and blinking up at him, meeting his heavy gaze. He hisses and tilts his head back, slowly rocking into your mouth.

“There you go, good job doll.” Puffy begins to rock her hips in time with Sam’s, making sure to keep with the pace he’s setting. “Like having daddy in your mouth and Miss in you? Feel good?”

You nod as best you can, tapping Sam’s thigh so he lets you up and you breathe in a gasp of air before babbling out, not even really comprehending what you said until both Sam and Puffy freeze. Your stomach drops and you open your mouth to apologize before Puffy is pulling out entirely, switching with Sam and letting him bottom out inside you with one roll of his hips, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.

“You wanna have our babies, doll?” He murmurs in your ear, “You wanna get filled up, stuffed to bursting with cum in your pretty little hole?”

The moan you let out is pornographic, unconsciously clenching around him. Sam grins, sharing a look with Puffy before picking up the pace, pounding into you roughly as Puffy lifts your body to slide behind you, laying your head on her stomach so she can run her hands down over your body while Sam props himself up to hit deeper inside you.

“Gonna be a cute little breeder for us, give us a nice little family?” Puffy whispers, sliding a hand down and ghosting over your nipples. “Gonna be so pretty, seeing your tits all heavy an’ full like mine, you’ll let me touch and see how easy it is to make you leak, won’t you? Pretty doll, just lay back, let daddy fill you up with a baby, okay?”

Sam’s thrusts are getting sloppier, hips slamming against yours with every thrust as he hikes your legs up, Puffy holding them above you so Sam has full access to your body, all squished down in a mating press. “Gonna cum,” he pants, “Fuck, gonna fill you up, keep my cock inside so I know it takes, make sure you don’t spill a single drop. Gonna take it? Gonna take every last drop like a good little breeding bitch?”

You nod frantically, begging unintelligibly as Sam thrusts into you once, two more times before bottoming out with a long hiss, spilling inside of you. Your eyes roll back as you feel warmth fill your belly, squeezing around Sam as you cum too and you practically sob when he goes to pull out, reaching for him with both of your arms.

Sam can’t help but laugh, carefully sliding back so his hips are flush against yours again. You’re looking up at him, half-lidded eyes and lips slightly parted as you pant for air, and almost unconsciously it seems your hips are already rocking against his again.

Puffy huffs out a laugh, gently grabbing your chin and tilting your head up. “Aww, pretty baby wants to be a mommy, huh?” She’s quick to slip her thumb between your lips, giving you something to suck on while you cockwarm Sam. “Wanna look all pretty with a big swollen belly and tits to match, so sensitive and ready, wanna feel how nice it is when they leak?”

Her words and the feeling of Sam’s cock against your abused walls is almost enough to throw you over the edge again, your hips trying to buck up but Sam flattens himself over your lower half, pressing your hips down with his own. “So lucky you’ve got us, huh doll?” He groans, beginning to pull out achingly slow. “Got two big partners to keep you all filled up, make sure you’re stuffed to bursting all the time, plugged up on a cock to keep all the cum safe inside your pretty little cunt so it takes, gets you nice and pregnant.”

You whine, high pitched and sad, when Sam pulls out halfway- you feel emptier and you don’t like it one bit, wanting him back inside you, trying to wrap your legs around his waist but Puffy’s grip is strong, holding you in place.

“C’mon, little one, you gotta stay all propped up like this, make sure every drop of my cum stays and doesn’t get wasted, you wouldn’t want to waste it, would you baby?”

You shake your head again, eyes shut tight as Sam begins to fuck back into you, thighs already tight from how close he was without doing very much at all. He leans forward and kisses Puffy, sharing a silent conversation before her hands return to your tits, groping and squeezing them as you unconsciously tighten around Sam and that’s enough to shake him, hips stuttering as he cums for the third time inside you, pulling out slowly so it all stays inside. Puffy lets go of your legs and they flop back down to the bed, and you can already feel cum gushing out of you and find yourself tearing up as it does, clenching in a useless attempt to keep it inside of you.

“C’mon baby, you gotta use the bathroom, okay? Let Sammy carry you, that’s a good doll.”

You’re scooped up against your boyfriend’s chest, snuggling into his shoulder as he brings you into the bathroom and helps you sit down, letting you use the bathroom as he grabs a couple damp cloths to clean the three of you up with and telling you firmly to stay there, not to move as he ducks out of the bathroom for a minute.

When he comes back you feel completely empty, nothing else dripping out of you as Sam picks you back up and brings you back to bed, where Puffy has already changed the sheets and they help you get settled, cleaning you off before climbing into bed on either side of you.

“You doing okay, baby? Drink some water, at least, alright?”

When people said it would be hard to get past Sam, the warden of the prison, you knew they weren't lying. But he had picked up every little thing you did. Which led to him patting you down to search for anything you shouldn't have.

This caused you to get nervous, considering you had more than one thing on you that he really wouldn't like. As you stood perfectly still, trying not to appear as nervous as you were while still hiding the items you had. 

As he searched you couldn't help but notice he was taking his time. You feel his hand slide along your chest and you go red and turn away. As soon as you turn away he grabs your face, turning your head right back to where it was. He stares down at you, a slight smirk present on his face, "What's wrong darling? Are you nervous? You really shouldn't be if you know you have nothing with you." As he says that, his unused hand dips down to your thigh, squeezing a bit as he continues holding your face and looking in your eyes. 

It wasn't much longer until he found what you had been hiding. An enchanted netherite pickaxe. He breaks his gaze away from you to stare at it, before tossing it to the side. You quickly go to stammer out some excuse but you're quickly bent over his desk before you can think of anything. 

He lets his hands wander as he asks, "Trying to help the prisoner? Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" As you try to think of a response, he puts his hand lightly around your throat, "I expect you to answer either yes sir or no sir." You rapidly nod before saying quickly, "Yes sir!" He puts more pressure on your throat and sighs, "Such a slut, aren't you?" You're again quick to speak, though with slight difficulty, "Yes sir."

He suddenly lets go of your throat, "Strip, then when you're done, get on my desk." You do exactly what he wants, though a bit slowly. He never was specific about how fast you needed to go.. His impatient groan made you slow down even more before he growls, "If you don't hurry up, you won't be leaving here." Although that didn't sound bad, you decided to listen anyways and speed up. As soon as you were done you get on his desk and he eyes you up and down.

A moment later you feel his fingers enter you and your breath hitches. After a moment, he starts moving his fingers very quickly, hitting all the right spots. You can't help but moan, getting closer to your orgasm before he stops. You go to complain before he pulls down his pants, sliding into you. 

"God, my pretty slut, taking me so well." He mumbles in your ear as he starts thrusting. He speeds up as you moan, "Gonna breed you. You'll be full of my babies and you'll really be my slut." He says in your ear, even if he knows you can't have babies. You feel you're so close and he seems to also almost be there, he speeds up more, loudly groaning as you both finish.