18+ Minors Dni

18+ minors dni

OCT. 6 — KINKTOBER ‘23

HATE SEX & BREATH PLAY WITH JASON TODD

ktober m.list | join the taglist

tags: fem reader, meanie jason, alcohol, penetrative sex ofc

it was a messy break up the two of you had when still in college, if that’s what you could label it as. an established relationship was hardly spoken of throughout your whole time being with him. something along the lines of friends with benefits and situationship is what you’d categorized it in your mind.

because fucking without feelings quickly turned into fucking and cuddling without feelings, which then introduced everything that was a relationship—but without a relationship as the title.

jason was allergic to the conversations you’d attempt to bring up. asking the man ‘what are we’ as you slipped his shirt onto your sweaty skin. to which he’d shrug off while allowing you to spend the night, wrapping an arm around you and making you breakfast in the morning. just the way you liked.

it was two years since you graduated and the man had hardly touched your mind. only the times in which you’d catch up with friends from the same era in your life would you be reminded of him. and sometimes on dates and one night stands would he flash through your head, the remembering of how good at sex he was with you in comparison to the midnight men who didn’t know how to touch you right.

the man of choice tonight, though, was the man himself. the man who you despised, who you tried to ignore all eye contact with when you saw him walk into the bar where you and your friends were all sat at. head kept down and eyes locked onto the drink in your hand

but, one drunken thing led to another and your ankles were now thrown over the broad shoulders of the man who—without a doubt—hit all the places in which you’d missed him touching.

but the sensuality that existed in your uni years was taken away. soft thrusts turned rough, hardly giving you a chance to breathe through the yelling moans that you let out. sweet kisses turned teeth clashing and bites hard enough to make blood rise to the surface. if a sober thought past your mind, you’d yell at the man for attempting to leave a hickey. drunken thoughts could care less though as he selfishly left his marks from the underneath of your jaw to the side of your hip. saliva trailing down your body and swollen skin rising with heat.

"y’know my pussy missed me," jason grunts, one hand grabbing at your thigh harshly while the other’s pushing on your waist, holding you steady as if you’d squirm out of his grasp if you were able.

the words make you moan. his ownership of something that wasn’t his—hasn’t been his for years now—making your walls clench around him, and he can only laugh dryly. "fuckin’ whore, should’ve known you’d miss my cock, yeah? couldn’t wait to get fuckin’ stuffed the second you saw me walk in with all your friends," it’s hard to understand what he’s saying, but you can only bite back. "y’know you only walked in that bar for free pussy," and now jason’s hand is moving upwards.

rough and calloused fingertips finding your throat and pushing down to disable any airflow into your lungs. "what’d ya say?" his lips are pulled into a smirk, head tilting curiously—stupidly, because he knows you can’t answer. you can only sit there with your mouth agape as jason’s thrusts don’t slow for a second.

the sound of his thighs slapping the back of yours was filthy. but the wetness that screamed inbetween was worse. cum dripping down jason’s balls that hit your ass, spreading more wetness and making that much more a mess. "that’s what i fuckin’ thought, fucked all stupid," he groans, releasing his grip for a few seconds to allow you airflow.

his body leans down, and it’s hard not to devour with eyes alone the man that’s before you. broad shoulders that are near double yours. pecs that surround a silver cross necklace the man has worn for years now.

it makes you want to laugh. his attempt at finding peace in religion when he fucks you hard enough that you swear you see god in an orgasm. the way he tears you apart with words alone as the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. the way he leans over you so the stupid cross hits your cheek with a feel of cool metal when he’s groaning out the words, "stupid fucking slut."

he’s holding himself up with a single hand. rough scars littering the skin while veins draw their way up to his forearms. the muscle flexed beautifully. so much so, that when you finally reach it with your eyes, you arch your back and squeeze them shut.

getting fucked alone by jason was enough. but to drink in the man that jason had become? close to doubling his size since college—which was only two years ago… you needed an entire day to process it.

instead it’s squished into the few hours that he’s seduced you into his bedroom, fucking you round after round. "who’s been fucking you when i’m not around?" he grunts in your ear, breathing into it before his tongue slides against your lobe. the question takes you out of the daze that you’ve been put in, attempting to scoff but ultimately moaning at the possession jason’s showing.

"fuck—shoulda-shoulda asked me earlier, would’ve made a list," you say between pants of breath. jason’s lips open to bite down on the soft lobe, a whine that pushes your head back against the mattress you were laid on.

"aw," he starts in a coo, "for being a slut," his tongue licks your neck, "still feel as tight as ever. still carved to the size of my fuckin’ cock ‘n nobody else’s." teeth clamp down on your sensitive skin, and your nails press that much deeper into his backside. an attempt at a warning, but jason loves the way the pain is subsided by the pleasure that is your dripping cunt.

his thumb finds your throat, pushing deeply to choke you once more. "must not be fuckin’ anybody worth a damn. nobody as big as me, huh?" thrust after thrust and you’re cumming on his cock without warning. a loud and choked moan slipping out of you while your vision turns dizzy and it makes jason wanna fuck you again.

after all, he could care less about the fact that you’re probably overly sensitive right now. maybe a few years back he would’ve pulled out, would’ve asked if you’re okay and thought of various ways to perform aftercare on your fucked out body. but, jason could give a fuck less, especially with the bratty words you’re spitting out to him. you don’t have a care in your tone, so why should he?

that’s why the snapping of his hips never halt. he doesn’t give you half a second to calm down when he feels you clench deliciously around his member. and when you’re whining, "jay-needa second, please!" he’s sucking on your tender skin, moving to cover your lips with his own.

"need a second? baby, all you need is my cock."

🏷️: @ash_cl0ud @harleycao @idyllcy @hails227 @aviixol @hopeannalea @hearttjason @finnlikesyourmom77 @roysjason @blursotongz @zaxlrza @wartofart

taste

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt just wants a taste.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: it’s thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of y’all. so, here’s a little treat from me to you bc I haven’t shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. 🖤

word count: 1.1k

Matt lost track of how long he’d had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. He’d discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.

It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.

On his knees.

Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.

Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Matt’s nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.

Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. He’d never been so painfully hard in his life.

But Matt didn’t feel like he had earned a release yet.

Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.

Just one more, he told himself, then he’d finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.

Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didn’t ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.

Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasn’t gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.

He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then he’d die a happy man.

Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldn’t tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didn’t fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.

He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.

Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.

As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.

“Fuckfuckfuck…Matty…I can’t. I-God, I need a minute-“

The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.

All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.

“Matty…did…did you-“

“Yeah.”

He didn’t bother hiding it. He wasn’t ashamed. He’d be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.

A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.

“Hey! I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.”

“Sweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.”

Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.

“Maybe I’ll test that theory later, but right now, I’d rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

making jason a friendship bracelet (i guess just bracelet if yall are together lol) and he wears it everywhere and when he’s fucking you and he’s got his hand around your throat (gently or not, but I’d feel like half the time he’d just keep it there gently) and he’s all smiley because he can see it in his vision right there next to your gorgeous fucked out face

whoever sent this. you're a genius.

tags: smut, fluff, little bit of slapping, bit of dumbification, fem!bodied reader

your shared bedroom was filled with the clinking of beads hitting each other as jason rutted into you. "fuck- jason!" you're moaning, clawing his back as he grunts. "you're so fuckin' tight baby, shit." what had gotten him so worked up in the first place? you made him a bracelet. he came home in the early hours of thee morning and you were absolutely beaming, shoving the bracelet in his hand excitedly. he was more than ecstatic, kissing you roughly as his thigh slid in between your legs.

"fuck- please please please" you ramble, not even knowing what you're begging for. jason's smiling, slapping your face gently a few times before his hand slides down to your neck. he squeezes just a bit with a lazy smirk. "gone dumb on me baby? like when i fuck you like this?" he already knew the answer but you whined in response anyway. out the corner of his eye, he could see the bracelet you made him. it makes his heart flutter as he thrusts into you harder. "g-gonna fucking milk me, sweetheart" he chokes out. your loud whines and moans spur him on as his hand trails to your clit, rubbing fast circles.

you both cum with loud moans, absolutely spent as you spend the next few minutes panting heavily next to each other. he's never taking that bracelet off.

A/N: umm hopefully i'm getting better at smut writing!??!@&*727 anyways i love this man.

AK Jason fluff to smut where he gifts her a J necklace

AN: WHOEVER THIS ANON IS I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK????! these jason asks got me feeling some type of way/pos sorry this took 50 years i had writers block💔

A gift for you.

jason todd x fem!reader

warnings: smut :p

you’re at home, bored out of your mind waiting for your boyfriend to come back from patrol. it’s nearing 4 am and you’re finding it hard to stay awake. just as you’re dozing off, you hear the window from the front room open, followed by heavy footsteps. you already know it’s jason so you call out to him, giving him a tired greeting since you’re too tired to get up. he walks in, tactical gear still on but he has a small box in his hand.

“thought of you while i was on patrol. got you a little something.” you can’t see it, but you know he’s smirking under his helmet. he takes it off and places it on his nightstand, undressing and getting into some shorts afterwards. he’s sitting on the bed, waiting for you to open it. you sit up, confused, but you open the box anyway. you certainly weren’t expecting to lay your eyes on a pretty j necklace with a heart that says “i love you”. you gasp and look at him, wide eyed and jaw dropped.

he laughs, a sound you could play on repeat and it’ll instantly cheer you up. “jay, this is so beautiful” you say quietly, still marveling at it. “beautiful necklace for my beautiful girl.” you close the box and set it on your nightstand before kissing him softly, cupping his face. he pushes his tongue against your lips, silently asking you to part them, and you do. a soft moan leaves your throat at the feeling of both of your tongues intertwining.

he pulls away slowly, out of breath and eyes lidded. “baby, let me take care of you?” jason asks, eyes silently pleading. you give him a nod to which he responds “you know the rules sweetheart, use those words like a big girl.” your heart flutters as you part your lips to speak. “jason..please.” “please what, baby?” you groan, not in the mood for his cockiness tonight. “please just fuck me already” you whine out. he grins mischievously before pushing you down on the bed softly.

he slips your night shorts and panties off and hums in approval. “one kiss has got your pussy dripping? you’re so easy baby” he teased. he runs a finger up your folds and groans lowly, eyes zeroing in on your glistening cunt. “so pretty” he murmurs to himself before getting on his knees and kissing your thighs, leaving little bite marks as he goes. “please” you whimper, bucking your hips up in hopes of getting any friction. “so fucking needy, pretty girl.” within the blink of an eye, his mouth is on your pussy, eating you like a man starved.

you can’t help but to whine and moan as he eats you out, experienced tongue licking and sucking. it’s almost as if he’s got a map of your cunt memorized in his brain. within a few minutes, your moans went from small “jason please” and “oh fuck” to “right there!” “m’gonna cum”. next thing you know, you’re clenching around his tongue and creaming all over it, high pitched slurs of his name leaving your pretty lips. “there we fuckin’ go. atta girl.” you’re twitching and jason spreads your legs a little more, spitting on your pussy and then kissing it cause he’s a freak!

“jason please. wan’ you inside.” he gets back on the bed and pulls off his shorts and boxers. “who am i to deny my pretty girl?” he slides into you slowly, letting out a low moan. “oh fuck baby, you’re s’tight.” once both of you have settled, he starts moving slowly, giving you deep thrusts. “j-jason! fuck, it’s s’good” you whine out, arms wrapping around his neck. “yeah? it’s so good? y’want me to fuck you to sleep baby?” you’re moaning and nodding, so cock drunk you barely registered what he said. he lets out a small laugh and says “okay baby, i’ll fuck you to sleep cause you’ve been such a good girl.” his thrusts speed up and he chokes out moans, gripping your hips harshly. “fuck fuck fuck- pussy’s fucking squeezing me, baby.”

“j-jay- jay m’gonna cum soon” you whine out. “i know baby, can feel ‘er getting tighter around me. fuckkk just like that.” before you know it, you’re fucking creaming around his cock, high pitched whines reverberating around your room. you just know you’re gonna get a complaint. “that’s it pretty girl, fucking cream on me. oh shit- m’gonna fill you up so nice baby.” you can barely hear him as the sleep finally catches up to you. a few thrusts later and he’s pumping you full of his cum with a whiny moan. you’re both spent, chests heaving as he pulls out.

“cant waste it baby” he grins before taking two fingers and plugging his cum into your hole. you shiver and whine at the feeling and he pulls them out, putting back on your shorts and underwear. “did so good for me” he mumbled, kissing your forehead before pulling up his shorts and boxers and laying down next to you. “gonna clean you up later baby, get some rest.” you smile and sleepily reply “thank you for the necklace, jace” and then you’re off to sleep. “course, beautiful” he whispers.

Every Jason line I could find in the DLC's audio files

Fit to Burst

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader x Steven Grant

Summary: Marc decides to teach you a lesson when you mistake him for Steven.

Rating: really fucking explicit

Warning/content: Marc's dirty filthy mouth, Steven's over-eager mouth, Marc is wee bit jealous, cunnilingus, overstimulation, refraction period? — we don't know her, established relationship.

Word Count: 3.5k (I have no excuse, pure self-indulgent filth)

Astroboot's Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist

“Does that feel good, love? Think you can come for me again?” 

You don't know how many orgasms he's pulled from you already. Everything sounds like it’s underwater. You can't tell if it’s Marc or Steven fronting right now. If it's Marc who is talking to you, or Steven, taking you apart inch by inch, one devastating orgasm at a time.

Love. He called you love. Steven calls you love. This must be Steven.

Steven’s lips come to the inside of your thigh, pressing gentle kisses meant to soothe, but the sandpaper brush of his stubble makes everything inside you that more wound up, your nerves raw like everything is going to splinter. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, and the soft caress of his breath is searing against your skin, wreaking havoc on you. The low rumbling of his voice, so uncharacteristic of him, is dipped in hunger and greed, and it skitters up and down your spine until it's difficult to breathe. It's a perfect counterpoint to his surprisingly skilled mouth and fingers on you, to the heat spreading under your skin and building to an explosive pitch between your legs. 

“Want you to come all over my mouth, yeah?” he says, with none of his trademark shyness, before he dives back in, tongue laving at your slick folds.

You can’t help but give him what he wants.

You come, your cunt clenches down, spasming around the thick girth of his fingers where he has you stretched open. Everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss. You are so disorientated that you are almost certain you are floating in zero gravity. You can’t even hear your heartbeat anymore. Can’t feel it thump against the cage of your chest. For all you know it might have stopped entirely. All you’re capable of feeling is an abstract tingling sensation that buzzes pleasantly in your veins.

Then you hear his voice, soft and adoring, from somewhere above. His fingers slip out of you, and you whine--even overwrought as you are, you feel empty at the loss.

There’s a gentle palm with soft-worn calluses stroking down the side of your ribs. Comforting kisses press your thighs, as he murmurs quiet praises about how good you are for him and how pretty you look like this.

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that last bit, not sure what he’s on about because you’re sure you look anything but right now. Your hair is soaked with sweat and clinging to your temple; your face, sticky and clammy. You’re certain you must look a complete mess as you lie here in a shambled heap on your bed. Your vision is so blurred you can barely see the white of your ceiling, but you're still able to make out the man above you, gazing down at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky.

“Think you can give me another one, love? Jus' one more, yeah?”

Fucking hell. This man…  

He doesn’t even give you a moment to gather yourself. You barely have a chance to nod before the saliva-slicked thumb gently presses down on your clit again. For all his sweet cooing and gentle touch and care, he is always merciless in his pursuit to make you come like there’s a prize for him at the end of it. 

"Fucking finally," he huffs under his breath, and if you weren't so completely out of it, you'd tell him it's his own fault for dragging that last orgasm out so long.

As cliche as it sounds, you’re so blissed out of your mind you can’t tell anymore, where the pleasure begins and ends. All you feel is clever fingers already curling inside you again; a greedy hand cupping your breast; a hungry mouth nipping at the hollow of your throat. He’s everywhere, and you spread your legs wider, open yourself up, so he can have every single inch of you. 

The bed shifts, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear the watery edges of your vision. After a moment, your eyes finally refocus on the man in front of you. 

He’s kneeling above you, cock in hand, as he gives it a slow lazy stroke that makes your mouth water. A slick sheen of sweat graces the muscular line of his shoulder, bathed in amber gold of your bedroom light.

“You alright, baby? Want me to keep going?” The look in his eyes is as gentle as ever he checks in on you to make sure you’re okay. Makes you feel precious and cared for. 

The only thing you can do is nod.

“You say stop if it gets to be too much,”  he rasps out as lines himself up against you. 

The first thrust is deep and consuming, and you cry out as the perfect stretch of him has white sparks burning behind your eyelids. You’re so worked up, everything makes a little bit less sense; mind almost a little bit numb. You can barely think straight and you think to yourself ironically, this is probably why they call it being cockdumb. 

And it's not being made better by the way that he’s running his fucking mouth. 

"So fucking perfect,” he murmurs into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nips on your ear. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm. Fuck, you're so tight right now. Always so tight after you come for us."

He stays there, buried inside you to the hilt to allow you some reprieve and to accommodate around him. You can feel his eagerness to move in the way his cock twitches excitedly inside of you. Can tell he’s resisting that very urge when he grips the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they go bone-knuckled. It strikes heat and pleasure all at once into the pit of your stomach. It’s so good; too much; and it teethers on the edge of the overwhelming. 

A warm hand comes to cup your cheeks. He’s consoling you, brushing away the hair in your eyes, and the touch of it grounds you. “Does that feel good, baby?” 

His eyes are ridiculously gorgeous, deep and rich, you find yourself easily lost in him. All you can see is his sweet half-smile, one corner of his mouth curling upward just for you. All you want to do in your overwrought state of mind is to please him, to praise him on how good he always makes you feel, so you do. 

"So good. Feel so full. No one fucks me like you do, Steven."

He stills. 

From above, you see it, the moment his expression changes. Gone is the indulgent softness. The curl of his full lips turned into a scowl. Those deep rich eyes bleed into sternness fixed with a dark glower. You realise a bit too late that Marc is the one inside you now, not sweet Steven. 

You try to think back. When did his voice change? His accent? His eyes are narrowed instead of wide adoring affection. Everything about his body language is different, must have changed before this, and how stupid is it that you didn’t notice until now? As much as you hate to admit it, you're just a little bit out of it; a little bit come dumb from how the two of them have made you come again and again. 

The next thing you register is the emptiness inside you as he slips almost entirely out of you; until only the blunt tip rests inside you. There’s a look in his eyes, a flash of something determined and almost dangerous, as he adjusts his hips against you. 

There’s no warning as he thrusts all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you. Deep and hard. It strikes something absolutely fucking devastating in you until it steals away your breath and makes you cry out. 

“Fuckohfuck, Marc!” 

“That's right, baby.” He leans over with his lips to your ear, voice low and dark and demanding as he rolls his hips, and then grinds deep within you. “Say it again. Who fucks you like this?”

Everything’s sharp and bright inside you; the rush of pleasure that comes with every thrust mind-numbing. You don’t know how Marc expects you to give him an answer; can’t even stutter out the ‘you’ that’s right on the tip of your tongue. Instead all that comes out is a pitiful sob. 

"No? Still not good enough for you?” Marc demands. 

You thought at first, with what little brain power was available to you, that he was jealous, and maybe there’s some of that in there too, but there’s something else. Something almost teasing that makes you think he’s not even all that upset about your mistake. The bastard that he is, he just wants to capitalise on the opportunity to push you to your limit. 

“Our girl is so greedy, isn’t she?” he continues mercilessly, ”Always wanting more. How about—" two hands come to rest on the inside of your thighs, lifting you off the mattress until your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he presses the delicious weight of his body on top of yours, folding you nearly in half. "How about this?"

His voice is pure savage glee, a kid that gets to play and pull apart his toy in whatever manner he wants. Your fingers twist into the sheets, trying to grab on tight because it feels like you are falling off the edge of the very world. Then Marc rolls his hips into you at the devastating new angle and it knocks the breath out of your lungs, tipping you past that very edge. 

It doesn't matter that you're ready to repent. Doesn’t matter that you’re trying to moan your explanation in between insistent, merciless strokes. "That's not— fuck, ooooh shit, Marc, I didn’t mean—"

That man is not letting up, and with how hard you came just mere minutes ago, he's already got you so keyed up that you can feel that all familiar pressure and heat settle against the line of your spine with an alarming speed. 

There’s a brief hesitation in his rhythm, like his concentration was broken for a moment, and you catch him glancing at the mirror. You wonder if Steven's there telling Marc to stop. Steven’s always looking out for you; would do anything for you, and that includes taking care of you in bed. But when you turn your head sideways, the mirror shows you the same perfect reflection of reality it always does. 

If Steven's there, you can't see him. Instead, all you can see is the image of yourself being split open by Marc. How Marc towers over you, with his lean stature. The firm muscles on his back sloping down to the generous curves of his ass like he was a carved marble statue meant to depict the ancient Greek deities themselves. Those thick raven curls furl with heat and sweat against his forehead. He’s so fucking beautiful it’s unfair. 

“You looking for Steven to save you?” Firm fingers grip the edge of your jaw, forcing your gaze back towards Marc. “Well too fucking bad. Steven’s not here. You’re stuck with me.”

Alright, nevermind. Definitely jealous then.

Marc’s next thrust drives a strange squeaking noise from your lungs, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren't so far gone. 

"What was that,—” Marc taunts, huffing out a dark laugh between thrusts, “—did you want me—to stop?"

His voice is unbearably smug, and you almost want to tell him to stop just on principle, but fuck that. You don’t want him to stop. Even though it's so fucking much that it borders on the unbearable. You shake your head frantically. You never want him to stop. “That’s what I… thought,” Marc grits out, thrusting hard on the last word.  

He’s driving up against something perfect and molten inside of you, and heat rises up in you like a tide, seething under your skin. You think you might actually be going to come again, but the sensation is immense, nearly unbearable, and you clutch at Marc, whimpering as it threatens to swamp your already overwhelmed and overstimulated system. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright, baby,” he rasps out, not even slowing down. “You can take it, can’t you? Take it for me like a good girl.” Then he tilts your hips up even farther, and that’s it. You’re done. 

Fierce, electric heat explodes outwards, crackling rapturously through your limbs, submerging you entirely until you lose track of reality for a minute. 

When you come back to yourself, Marc is still thrusting into you. The rhythm of it is soothing, drawing out your pleasure in a way you’ve never known before, like you've hit a plateau rather than travelling up and down a mountain. Distantly you note that everything is a slick mess. That you are soaking Marc’s cock with how wet your cunt is for him. You can feel it leaking out of you with every press and retreat of him inside you, dripping down over the curve of your ass onto the bed sheets.

Then, out of nowhere, Marc does stop.  

The sound you make is damn near inhuman. Fuck, why?? Why is he stopping when all you need is more of him? 

Your eyes flutter open to see Marc staring at the mirror, his full attention focused on his reflection. On Steven. 

You don’t know what Steven is saying to him, but whatever it is, has Marc chuckling. 

He turns away from the mirror with a toothy grin full of mischief, and he leans back down towards you, pressing his mouth close so he can whisper in your ear like it's a secret; like Steven can't always hear him no matter how quiet he's being.

“He wants me to fuck you harder. Stretch you all the way open on our cock. Make you come again.”

You have no way of knowing if that’s true or if Marc is just saying that to get a rise out of Steven. You can’t exactly hear Steven’s end of the conversation. But it doesn’t matter, because Marc’s doing it. 

You don’t know if you want to escape the sensation or demand more of it. But you can’t do either. In fact, you seem to have lost control of your body completely. All you can do is shudder and whine under him as Marc follows Steven’s alleged request and pushes himself hard and deep inside of you—oh God, just like that—again and again. 

The pleasure twines and spreads slowly though your heavy limbs until you're completely drunk on the sensation of Marc's cock driving into you. He’s reduced you to a heap of bones, flesh and skin without any sentient thought left in your brain. Until you have lost all other sensation to the point where you almost miss the way that Marc is murmuring a string of filth into your ear. 

“That’s right, baby. You’re not done yet.” 

You can’t look away from him, the way that sweat is dripping down his collarbone, the mesmerising rise and fall of his chest as his breath is rasping in and out of his lungs. 

“Gimme one more,” he says. “You come on my cock one more time, then I’ll fill you up. Make a mess of you, and Steven can clean you up with his tongue.” 

This man is the devil. 

You don’t know what that makes you when you’re so aroused by the picture he’s painting for you. 

You’re exhausted. Every inch of you feels tender. You have been strummed and plucked and pushed over the edge again and again until all of you has become one single raw overwrought nerve. At this point you’re not even sure you’re physically capable of coming again. But still, white heat sparks and cracks and invades your numb limbs until you’re thrumming with it.

He's rutting into you, hips in an uneven jerking place, grinding as if he needs to get deeper, as deep inside you as he can to stake his claim and never leave. And fuck, you wish he could. You want him to fuck you like this forever and never stop.  

Your cunt flutters around the thick girth of him involuntarily, and it does something to Marc too. He gasps and swears, hips stuttering forward into you, and it's almost enough.... almost... almost...

"Marc..." your voice breathy, pleading, barely recognizable to your own ears.

"Fuck," Marc huffs out. His hips stutter in its pace. If you didn’t know any better, from the way he closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if to gather himself, you’d think his trademark control is slipping. But then he seems to rally himself and pulls back, almost all the way out.

You clutch at him. If he stops now, if he dares to deny you, you swear to god, you will actually kill this man, or failing that, die on the spot in protest. Your fingers digging into the firm meat of his shoulders, sobbing his name. You need—more, need everything, need him, need to— 

“Shh,” he hushes you with a soothing coo, comforting fingers brushing back the sweat-slicked hair clinging to your forehead. “I'm right here, baby. Let go, I've got you.”

His tone doesn’t match his actions. Marc thrusts back in, driving so deep you can fucking taste it, and you dimly realize that you're screaming as the pleasure streaks outward, tearing your world apart.

It’s a flickering light that is dimming and finally dies out from the surge of electricity. Your brain completely loses all higher functions and all that is left is the rush of heat that spreads all over you. It pours and pours until you’re lightheaded and the whole room spins with it. Everything feels blissfully tight; too much and just enough. Then you come.

When you open your eyes, you see those gorgeous dark eyes rolling back, baring the long line of his throat and it’s a beautiful fucking sight. The sharp edge of his jaw, pink pouty lips all shiny and slick from you. You swear those thick sweat soaked curls glisten in the dim light. He’s so ridiculously gorgeous, you can hardly believe he is real. 

Marc isn’t far behind you. His cock pulses, spilling warm heat inside of you with a strained moan. Every muscle in him goes rigid against you. 

Then Marc collapses onto you, arms wrapped all around you as he lands on top of you on the bed, his firm weight resting on top of you. Both of you are a boneless and sweaty tangled heap against the mattress. His firm chest is pressed against you, so close the beat of his heart is hammering against your skin. 

In the silence of your bedroom, your harsh, panting breaths echo as if you just finished the most harrowing marathon of your lives. There’s a gentle hand stroking the plane of your back. It’s so gentle, the touch of it so adoring that you’re not sure if it’s Marc or Steven, but you don’t think it matters much at all.  

As you come down, your senses slowly flicker awake. You can feel the soft gentle comfort of a reassuring touch running along your thighs. A warm hand petting you over the wideness of your hip bones, soft stroking caresses to coax you back down from your high. 

Eventually, your breaths slow, and he pushes himself up, and away from your chest with shaky arms, until you can see his soft gorgeous face that is practically glowing as he smiles down at you. Utterly boyish, utterly charming. 

Steven, you realise. Steven’s back…

“You alright there, love? Was Marc too rough?” His thick brows knit together in worry. An expression of guilt bleeding into his handsome face. 

In your exhaustion, you find yourself still breathless as you try to answer him, “Yeah. No, I’m alright,” you pause, and lower your voice, feeling suddenly, inexplicably shy. “I… I liked it."

At your response, that worried expression breaks out into a beaming grin that makes your heart leap and skip several beats with unadulterated fondness. 

“Good. That’s good, yeah.” 

Steven is a fucking sight onto himself. Your eyes trail downwards, from his chest, that’s glistening with sweat down to his torso and— bloody fucking hell. Your eyes widen at the sight. You don’t even know how, but Steven’s already hard again or maybe he just never went down for the count at all. His other hand is fisting his cock, a slick mess of white lines of cum that’s dripping down the aching length of him as it twitches and jumps with undeterred eagerness. 

“Then, um…. Sorry to ask, but do you think…” It’s Steven’s turn to look down bashfully, then back up at you. His cheeks are flushed with a deep pink; hair, a tousled mess with a pleading expression in his eyes, that you cannot possibly turn down.

“Do you think we could go again? …please?”

Dear fucking God, these men. Steven may be all sweet and polite about it, but deep down he’s just as greedy and demanding as Marc. Maybe worse. 

You’re not sure how you’re going to survive these two, but you’re going to enjoy the ride. 

Dedication and Credits:

@thirstworldproblemss to my most beloved and brilliant co-writer, who stays up with me all night and all day to prawn like no one has prawn ever before. I never have more fun than when I am in a google doc with you, screaming about the beauty of this man and writing out the exact same suggestions to each other at the same time.

@frannyzooey for succeeding to make me cry on a Tuesday afternoon in the office with her kind words and support. You're someone that I'm endlessly proud to call a friend, for your humour, your kindness and your warmth. You are just one of the best humans and I hope you wake up everyday and know that and if you don't, I will remind you everyday.