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charlietheepicwriter7 · 5 months

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Always a man, a city, and a lighthouse...

"Robin, Red Robin, stay back for a minute," Batman said as he dismissed everyone for patrol. "I have a new mission for you. Dozens of civilians have gone missing around the decommissioned Gotham City Lighthouse." A few clicks and the Batcomputer displayed a map of the Upper West Side, a highlight on the lighthouse. "I want you both to investigate the building. Everyone who's gone missing entered the lighthouse, but nothing has been found by the police. I suspect that the lighthouse is being used for gun smuggling, but we need more information.

"That's where you two come in."

Or, I've been reading too much of @virgamsysxvolumes 's Lucky Rush AU, and wanted a true Bioshock AU for dc x dp.

Underneath the city, in the vast and endless caverns beneith Gotham, lies the subterranean city of Amity. Amity was the pet project of the mad scientist couple, the Drs. Fenton, to investigate the effects of ectoplasm on humans, but with the help of their best friend, Vlad Masters, they transformed Amity into a Technocracy City filled with scientists, and completely lacking in morals.

Or at least, that's how it was ten years ago, before the creation of Plasm (the Adam replacement), a neon green goo that's basically meth that gives you superpowers. Everyone from the top scientists to the lower working class starting doping on Plasm, which gave people the ability to control fire, create hallucinogenic spores, summon bats, etc. Vlad, the mayor, was deposed in a cue let by the Fentons and the city descended into anarchy, with people from the surface getting lured down from the lighthouse so they can continue their experiments.

The Fentons are 100% not good people in this. Jack is in charge of all the technological advances in Amity, while Maddie has created human/ghost hybrids--the Little Sisters of the story--that can naturally harvest ectoplasm from dead bodies to use for experiments. Once everyone's hooked on Plasm, the Little Sisters are in danger from acting Splicers, so she creates Big Daddies to protect them.

Danny is the only Little Brother, and Jazz is the only Big Sister. Vlad turned them both into monsters as revenge against the Fentons for the cue, but the couple didn't really care, with Jack barely acknowledging he has children, and Maddie acting like they were never turned into monsters to begin with. Not sure about ages... Jazz is probably the same as her canon age, but if Danny is still 14, he looks 10, tiny and malnourished and pale.

Tim and Damian are trapped in Amity after an automatic system determines them as good test subjects. The AI filters out any cops, so that's why the police never found anything. The elavator brings them down into the city, showing a sweeping shot of neon in the darkness of the caves, and the boys figure out pretty quickly something is blocking their calls.

Tim gets super injured early on. I think, a Jack Fenton booby trap (that exclaims that it's a Jack Fenton Booby Trap moments before activating, which should be funny, but isn't when death lasers are being launched at him.). Damian gets captured, and that's when Tim is contacted by Vlad, who is our Atlas stand in for the game, only Tim immediately realizes that this man is sketchy af.

But unfortunately, in order to rescue Damian, Tim has to splice himself with Plasm. Maybe its for fire-wielding, or telekinesis but Tim can't get to wherever Damian is being held and, while torn, splices himself to save Damian.

Damian was kidnapped because his exposure to Lazirus Waters made a Big Daddy think he was a Little Sister, so it brought him back to the Casper Academy, which is where Little Sisters drop their harvests off in the care of William Lancer. Lancer looks after the girls because Maddie Fenton is too busy, but it's against his will despite him caring for them all. He's trapped in the building, can't leave or he dies. He's actually relieved to know that Vlad is still alive and trusts him, because to Lancer he was just a good mayor who was overthrown and the Fentons are the real bad guys, just look what they did to their kids!

This is where the batkids first learn about Danny and Jazz, although they don't meet them until a while after this. Danny actually ends up being the one leaving Plasm out for Tim every time he rescues a Little Sister. (Sidenote, they end up killing people while in Amity. While both do have death counts, the problem with Amity is that they have to use stronger and stronger levels of force to get people to go down, leading them to escalating and killing quite a few).

Lancer points them to communications to get their comms working again, and that area is run by Damon Grey.

At some point after comms are back on, the two learn that Red Hood actually came in after them after hours of no communication and has been captured by Maddie Fenton, who intends to turn him into a Big Daddy.

In late story, it's revealed that Jack Fenton was murdered before the cue even happened, and that the Jack Fenton they'd been communicating with the entire time was an AI assistant created by living Jack to keep his work going. The cue was actually retaliation from Maddie and the Jack AI for murdering Jack.

The story would eventually end with Tim, Damian, and Jason freeing all the Little Sisters along with Danny and Jazz.

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drefear · 10 months

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Hail to the King

Chapter 2: It All Comes Back to You

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

Tw: masturbating (male) hints of trauma and past abusive relationship, drinking, a lil more of possessive and creepy Miguel.

AN: I have to say I feel like some of this might be kinda shitty because it was a bit rushed, but I also hate slow paced plots, so I guess I can’t help it. Hope you like it!

You.

The world was blurry as your eyes lost focus for a bit. Nothing seemed real. You thought you might wake up and everything would be normal again. No crazy mob bosses, no blow jobs in the office, no scheduled sex, none of it.

Who the fuck was this guy?

His life was so far from any type of common man’s that you were almost impressed. Fine pressed designer suits, women on their knees during his lunch break, meetings about hard drugs. For a building so beautifully kept and full of charming people, it sure was a mystery. Was everyone just sleeping with different people throughout the day? Were they also snorting lines off of the bathroom counter or cooking meth in the kitchen? What other dirty deeds were done in this place?

Lyla knocked on your door, saying something about setting up your new phone and calendar.

“And the blue events in the calendar are strictly private for Miguel.” She added, to which you saw that- yep. That meeting was blue. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and listened to the rest of what she had to say.

“Ok, that should be it. Your new phone is set up, and it also has the company card connected to it already, so you don’t need a physical card. Miguel set me a message about your shopping spree later, but I raised the budget he gave you to an extra ten thousand. Just in case ya really need something that might cross that line. And whatever you get, I do the paperwork so I’ll just write it up as an investment, like our donations to charity.” She shrugged and turned, blowing you a little kiss as she exited the room.

Your mind assaulted your conscious thoughts once she was gone, remembering how he looked only thirty minutes ago. Head back in ecstasy, eyes never wavering from yours as he orgasmed and slammed up into that girl's throat. You shivered from the memories and stood up abruptly, needing to move around before the warmth in your core spread and created any type of physical arousal.

Your phone buzzed, seeing Miguel’s name light up the screen. Unlocking your phone, only the words ‘Come to my office now.’ showed up and your feet began to move towards your door when you stopped.

A million thoughts danced behind your eyes and you smirked, tired of him already.

‘No.’ is all you answered before exiting your office and shutting the door loudly behind you so he knew you’d be gone. You confidently walked to the elevator and tossed your hair over your shoulder. He wanted your unfiltered thoughts? Well then, he had no idea what he signed up for.

Standing in the elevator, you saw him walk out of his office as well and make eye contact with you, making you flash back to what you’d seen earlier.

In seconds, you realized something as you stood ten feet away now. He knew you wouldn’t know about the color coded schedule. He planned that little power play. He was showing his dominance, like a dog peeing on his territory. A show of who was in charge and what you were to him. A plaything.

This split second of awareness made you even more confident in your defiance, as you saw him begin to close in on the elevator. The doors began to close and you smiled, waving to him right before they shut.

The ride to the lobby was serene, like the calm after the storm. Your day had been intense to say the least. A lot of arguing, thinking, absorbing, and borderline sexual assault on your eyes. But it wasn’t a bad day. In fact, this all gave you a thrill you didn’t know you needed.

Once on the ground floor, you walked outside and waved to a taxi, getting in once one stopped. Scrolling over the list you were given by Lyla, you stopped at one stare in particular.

“Take me to Hermès.” And you were gone.

Standing in the dressing room, the whole world felt like a scene from Pretty Woman. You twirled in tight, business dresses that you thought they only wore in movies about billionaires with red rooms. The color of your favorite so far was a lightweight white dress, but it seemed a bit much for the office, so you tucked it away and decided if you needed a sexy dress for an event, you’d pull it out.

You’d decided to go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue, where you’d been fired the previous day, and eat lunch right where this all had begun.

Sitting at a table, you requested Peter kindly and he made his way over in an instant. “I am so sorry, it was completely out of my control! I didn’t-“ he apologized and you just shook your head.

“It’s ok. I understand now. How about you get me a white wine and we call it water under the bridge?” You requested and he nodded, fetching it with hast. It was a great meal and once you were done, you gave Peter and Gwen both a hug.

“You know, since you technically got a huge promotion, we should celebrate! Go out tonight, get some drinks?” Gwen asked and you quickly agreed. A few drinks sounds exactly like what you needed.

Now beyond overstimulated, you made your way home with around thirty thousand dollars worth of clothing.

And when you saw a moving truck outside of your complex, you remembered that you were indeed moving.

Hours of tossing shit in boxes and taping them closed, you were packed and in the moving van on your way to your new apartment. You were still reeling with this whole world and how quickly things had spun into a web of insanity.

Leaning your head back against the side of the van, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the reality began to sink in.

Arriving at your new place, the large men brought in the big pieces of furniture you decided to keep, which was really just your couch, bed, and coffee table. Everything else was unneeded and ugly anyway. You tried to help as much as possible, but quickly opted for carrying in boxes and garbage bags you’d packed in a rush. It was over just as quickly as it started and soon, you were sitting on your floor cross legged and staring at the boxes, then glanced at the shopping bags that were full of expensive dresses and clothing. That sounded like a lot more fun than unpacking your old sweats and knickknacks.

Pulling everything out and placing it on hangers, your eyes glanced at a specific outfit you’d chosen that’d be perfect to celebrate with Gwen tonight. Pulling on a white halter dress, you enjoyed the little bits of side boob and the way the thigh had a slit that showed more skin. The light fabric made it comfortable and easy to move in, and with a quick pair of strappy heels with sparkling rhinestones all over from Jimmy Choo, you grabbed your new Louis Vuitton purse and smiled. Maybe this job would be so terrible.

Texting Gwen, you also decided to invite Lyla and Jess. Lyla agreed to come out, whereas Jess said she didn’t have a sitter for the boys and would come out once her husband got home from work. A girls night was exactly what you needed, and everything about the feeling of hopping on the train and getting eyes from a few good looking men made you hum with pride. Ignoring all of the bullshit from the past two days, you liked Gwen a lot and she’s become someone you trusted even only knowing her for about a week. She had an authenticity about her that made you feel like she was honest and brave.

Lyla also made you laugh with how she always had something to say back. Her fun loving attitude was one you almost felt jealous of, how she seemed so relaxed. Jessica had a bad ass vibe to her, like everything she did could be documented and made into a comic or story. Like some sort of legend in the making.

You wanted to be like them in so many ways, you’d have to start taking notes and learning how they seemed to be so damn cool.

Stepping off the train and hurrying towards the club Gwen suggested, you couldn’t help but smile. You’re first time clubbing in Nueva York! It was so exciting, seeing people waiting outside of the club in a long line like in movies you’d seen. Waving to Gwen, who was already on line, you caught up with her. Her outfit fit her so well, a black shirt leather jacket over a dark silver mini dress with black tights with rips in them and black platform boots with chains down the sides. She looked like a rockstar, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She smiled wide and grabbed your hand.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She added and you couldn’t agree more. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab yours from behind and saw a familiar pair of heart shaped glasses.

“Lyla!” Gwen cheered before you even turned around fully, all hugging together. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, how’s Mr. Grumpy pants?” The blonde asked and Lyla just rolled her eyes.

“Cranky as usual, but he comes in handy for some things. Follow me.” She pulled you both out of the line and to the front where many people were giving you all dirty looks. A security guard only took a second to look at Lyla and moved the ropes for her and you to come in, not even bothering to check your ids. You looked at Gwen in surprise and she just nodded, as if telling you to keep your cool.

The club was packed beyond belief, and a girl in a bodysuit and fishnets let you to a large booth-table with velvet black couches and a large bottle of champagne on the table. “Who did this?”

“I may have called ahead and three around Miguel’s name.” Lyla shrugged, grabbing a flute of champagne and filling it with the bubbly alcohol. She handed you each one more and tilted her glass to inspire a toast. “To our new recruit in the Spider society!” She cheersed and you blushed at the attention, Gwen whooping and hollering. The thrum of the heavy bass and heat from the moving bodies made you almost lightheaded, enjoying the free feeling from the liquid in your cup. Another bottle was brought out once Jess arrived and the four of you swayed a bit to the beat, to which you grabbed Gwen’s hand and attempted to pull her to the dance floor. Lyla followed with Jess and you all moved, swaying your hips to the rap playing in the dim lights. The flash of Lyla’s phone camera made you cover your face a little, still smiling and not stopping your dance, swiveling in a seductive motion and feeling the heat between your legs begin to rise from the feeling of the eyes around you watching. Jess nudged you and pointed to a man at the bar, a bit taller and thin in a dress shirt. You made eye contact with the man and the temperature of your chest rose once more. You made your way over to where he was, raising a hand at the bartender as you ordered a drink. He leaned over and spoke.

“On my tab.” His voice was low, eyes catching yours once more and making you feel very aware of your surroundings. A blush creeped onto your face and you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself and you returned the favor, shaking his hand gently. Big Sean pumped around you both as you talked for what felt like an hour, light conversation giving you a feeling similar to a high. It had been a while since you’d enjoyed speaking to someone like this, chemistry and familiarity.

“Is that you?” You heard someone speak from behind you and call your name, turning to face the last person you thought would be in front of you.

“Eddie?” You gasped, fear coursing through the previously hot blood in your veins, cold as ice now from this familiar face. “How did you-”

“I heard you moved here a few weeks ago and came to visit. Nothing like a friendly face, right?” You searched around for your female friends in vain, finding no one you even recognized. He slipped his hand into yours, frozen with horror as he squeezed, something you knew was actually a warning. “How about we find somewhere to talk?”

“Actually, I’m with my coworkers, now is a bad time.” You tried to remove your hand from his and felt him unrelenting, his grip tightening. “Please, not here.” You begged, pleading with him and knowing you’d get nowhere.

“There you are!” Jess’s voice rang through as she pushed through the crowd, Lyla and Gwen behind her. “We’re about to get another bottle- who’s this?” She raised a brow questioningly at Eddie, who stepped closer with a small smile.

“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” He shook her hand and her eyes glanced to yours, hopefully seeing the feeling of terror you were trying to show her.

“Right,” Jess pulled you closer to her and slipped her arm into yours, “well, sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re having a girls only night, so she’ll have to talk to you another time.” Jess secured her hand around your arm and smiled, knowing exactly what you needed. Behind you, Lyla had signaled security and had them coming closer, but a voice made everyone stop moving instantly.

“Actually, I think it’s time we all go.” A deep voice said from your right and you looked up to see your boss.

“How-“ Gwen asked but was quickly cut off by the glare Miguel sent her.

“I saw the videos Lyla posted and came to celebrate as well.” From his body language, that definitely was not his true intentions, but you were left in the dark as Jess and Lyla looked extremely nervous, like they’d just got caught doing something very bad.

Gwen leg the way out as Jess and Lyla followed, to which you began to walk forward with them, but a hand grabbed your wrist once more and you came face to face with Harry, who’d been caught in the crossfire of your drama.

“When will I see you again?” He begged slightly, a small smile on his lips until Miguel stood in between you two and sneered at him a bit.

“Get your hands off my employee.” His voice was dangerous, a presence only a lion would challenge. Without letting anyone interject, he dragged you out through the crowd and into the street lights. A hoard of men in black clothing stood outside with the girls, seemingly waiting for you and Miguel. You all climbed into a black SUV where all of the seats faced each other and both Jess and Lyla hung their heads, Gwen holding your hand in concern.

“What the hell was that, Lyla?!” His voice was loud, accusatory. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

“Of course not, I just wanted to-“

“I don’t even want to hear it. And you, Jess? You should know better than anyone what that could have led to!” His tone made you coward backwards a bit, Jess unwavering in her confidence.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to like that? Lyla and I were with her and Gwen, we were perfectly safe.” She defended and Lyla nodded, Gwen looking up just as confused as you.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked quietly and as if he just noticed you were there, his eyes were cautious. Everything was silent for a moment before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“That nightclub is owned by another mob in Nueva, a smaller one, but it would still be a problem if anything else had happened. They would think I sent spies to their club.” He added the end as an example. You looked down as Gwen rubbed your shoulder from worry.

“I’m taking you all to a different club, one that won’t cause any unnecessary issues-“

“Actually…” you started and but your lip before continuing. “I think I just want to go home. I’m too tired to stay out.” You didn’t dare look up at anyone else, eyes trained on your shinny shoes that you were so excited about a few hours ago. How did everything keep happening so fast?

The car stopped outside of your building and you got out, followed by Miguel. He tapped the top of the car and the rest of the girls were sent home. You both walked in and onto the elevator.

“I don’t need an escort-“

“This is also my building.” He interrupted you and you finally looked up at him, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the buttons of the elevator. He tapped your floor and then the top floor. Of course he had the penthouse.

You stayed soundless, the exhaustion finally hitting you and making you drag your feet. The doors opened and you glanced at him before just walking out.

“By the way.” He spoke before you could walk too far, turning to look into his eyes for the first time that night. “Next time my office door is shut, remember to knock.” The metal doors closed and the memory of him fucking into that woman’s throat was then fresh on your mind.

Miguel’s head fell back against the metal. Lyla had posted those videos of you dancing on her account and he’d seen them when she started not answering his messages, then watching how you moved your body in that adorable white dress. And the way it moved up your thighs while you danced-

Miguel opened his eyes as the ding of the elevator sounded that he’d reached his penthouse. Walking into his dining room, he shed himself from the suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, stretching his shoulders and tossing the shirt into a hamper close to his closet. Unbuckling his belt, Miguel let out a breath of relief as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. Sitting down on his bed, he reached for his laptop and settled under the covers. Scrolling through a few documents, he pulled up his background search of you. Your photo popped up with some of your social media. Pictures from the beach, a few from birthdays, and some family photos, you seemed completely normal.

But something was off.

Miguel knew he was intimidating, it was part of his stature that made his job a little easier. You weren’t afraid of him, you kept your ground and fought back to him.

But tonight, you had fear in your eyes when you saw that guy. What was his name again? Adam? Who knows, but he saw that slight hesitation and anxiety in you that he didn’t recognize. You were scared of that guy.

He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d saw you as he was getting his normal de-stressing from one of the girls in the lower levels, something many women around him volunteered for. She’s come up and offered sex, but he just needed a mouth to fuck.

And then you walked in with that plain outfit and sensible shoes, holding your tablet like you’d been in a rush. And he couldn’t look away. You should have been the one wrapped around his dick, he wanted to hear you gagging on him as he thrusted upwards and grunted. He wanted to cum inside your mouth, not someone random woman’s from marketing. He wanted you.

Unknowingly, his hand had traveled to his boxers and he’d begun rubbing himself to the thought of you.

All he could imagine was you mouthing off to him, and him bending you over the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding one arm behind your back as the other moved to grasp anything within reach as he took you from behind. Miguel rolled his eyes back at the thought of your warm hole welcoming him as he licked two fingers of his free hand and rubbed circles on your clit until you were practically pushing him away from the intensity of your orgasm. But no, he wouldn’t let you get away that easily, he wanted to feel it around him, so he would angle his hips a little more upward, hitting that soft spot that made you arch your back into him more and let out broken moans.

As if on cue, white ropes of his own mess hit his chest and he looked down in surprise, having forgotten what his hand had been doing. He sighed and got up to rinse himself off with a softening cock and an empty mind. The single thing on his brain when he tossed and turned in his sleep that night?

You.

Gwen’s outfit

Your outfit

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

#miguel o'hara #Miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #Miguel O'hara x reader

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rreskk · 5 months

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Heatwave

Summary: Sandy Shores experiences a frightful heatwave in which disturbs Trevor and his sleep, leaving him to use the only source of entertainment - you.

NOTES: Hey guys. I've not answering requests at the moment because I really wanna focus on providing much more focussed fanfics! Trying to improve and experiment with my writing, but this means I'll upload more promising works! :)

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1856

The humidity was ravishing like a spiteful bliss of rushed warmth evaporating from an active volcano. The many layers of heat had tangled Hell into Sandy Shores, the rock roads fuming, the metal trailers sparking and burning up. A horrific heatwave during the summer hours of early dawn. What was present outside was also found inside; unbearable temperatures and sticky mattresses heaving at his naked skin. For once he tried to sleep but it came with a downfall of sweat and irritation. The 3 day bender of meth fuelled chaos ended and the sleep deprivation caught up momentarily. So with tiredness and angst, Trevor attempted to sleep the night before and, almost choked up by the heat, ended up lying there with eyes wide open, his back stuck to the duvet and his whole body measured with sweat — head to toe — every inch.

He glanced over to your sleepy figure and glared with distain. His body rolled forwards and it grinds against your backside, needly asking for some comfort and physical contact while in the moment of Hellish heat. Though you were just as sweaty with the mattress becoming damp, you had somewhat managed to enter the process of a light sleep, your eyes closed and face aching with trickles of sweat.

“Wake up…” his finger brushed across your damp stomach, “Don’t sleep without me.”

This tauntingly disturbed your peace and quiet as you began to stir, his breath heavy on the back of your neck. Throughout the whiplashes of consciousness, his stench grew more intense due to the humidity and increasing pressure of the warm heatwave that caused his bedroom to sickly hold this stream of his sweaty musk. Your nostrils were inflamed at the punch and you peered over your shoulder, just now noticing the layers of sweat painting your skin and sticking to your shirt. He met with your eyes, still frowning.

“What?” You murmured after being eruptively woken.

“I can’t sleep.” He simply said like it was your fault.

Begging to differ, your stomach coiled at his demonising scent and slowly, you sat up from the sticky sheets.

Trevor immediately followed you with his eyes and took advantage of the free access to your body, his hands grabbing at your waist and them warm fingers sliding across your bare skin. It made you shiver as the contrast of your sweat and his sweat mixed. The sensation was more or less hot AND bothering, an unwanted caress of butterflies moving around in your tummy and making it harder to breathe. Them damned hands are only making this heatwave worse for you.

“Trevor.” You’d warn since the illy-balanced fractures of bodily temperatures were apparent to cause future sickness.

“What?” He grubbed in response, scowling. His touch remained fixated on your waist and quietly ushering you closer to his side of the bed.

Knowing it wasn’t smart to argue against this revoltingly lustful intimacy, you shook your head to avoid any more of that sober grumpiness.

“This fuckin’ heat is killing me…” And with a slight tug, you were pulled back and into his lap. Your head planted onto the sweaty chest and he gazed down with a snarky smirk. “Hey.”

A hesitant muffle left your lips as you obtained the urge to find comfort in this gooey, humid situation. While lying against Trevor was a diamond in the rough, it didn’t help with your hair and clothes sticking to your body. Overstimulation, at its finest.

“It’s too hot for this.” You protested and attempted to sit up from his close proximity.

“Is it?” He questioned before grabbing the back of your shirt. “It’s never too hot to spend quality time with my girl.”

Your body went into immediate shut down and you couldn’t hold back the grudge. Limply falling back, you gave him a deceitful sigh. “C’mon, please. We both are tired—“

“From what I can remember, you were sleeping fine. Almost too fine…” He murmured.

“Before you woke me up.”

Trevor grimaced, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to spend time with dear ol’ Trev?”

“I didn’t mean it like tha—“ Before your sentence barely spat from your tongue, his hand perversely broke an entrance down your sweatpants, harshly groping at your pussy through your sweat-shaking undies. “Fuck!”

You felt him smirk at your initial reaction. Trevor increased his grip as your back arched, the overwhelming presence of heat turning into an internal arousal, defeating your inner dignity. He maintained your steady position in his lap while that hand only abuses your pussy harsher, suddenly clawing at your clit through the damp cloth.

“Trevor, stop…” You struggled with a smile, rocking your hips and thrusted into his hand.

“Atta girl. You love it, don’t you?” He whispered as his lips remained attached to your neck. His voice vibrated throughout your body, assisting the rush of blood to your stomach and lower. And from what you could tell, as that growing urge bulged from his crotch, he was excited as well. A bit too excited.

Disabled of vocalisation – jerking your hips is the only way of communicating since he had stolen your words. How he responded was physically intimate. His finger, clinging to your panties, pulling it aside and freeing the wet mess caused by his monster teases. You just wanted to rip off your clothes and free yourself from the chambers of sweat and overstimulation but he enjoyed watching you grow frustratingly sweaty and sticky. His eyes were peeled upon the hair that stuck to your face, the silhouette of droplets on your forehead and neck illumining from the lamp beside the bed. Trevor always loved it hot and messy, heatwaves setting him off when you submit such a sight to behold.

You clumsily pulled down your lazy sweatpants with the damp panties, kicking it away with the jerk of your feet. Now you could see his veiny, pulsing hands that dared to finger your clit more than it already is. With circular motion, you watched his thumb press down and interrogate the sex, assassinating the build-up of tension starting within your thighs and making them shake with anticipation.

“Oh yeah, that’s how I fuckin’ like it.” You heard him moan when sighting your exposed lower body.

As predicted, he shuffled around, your back hitting the mattress instead of his chest and his hand, based on your clit, increasing in pressure as he used it to continue the yearnful pleasure. You moaned, eyes closed, feeling his shadow looming over your body when another hand opened up your legs more.

“Look at me, baby.” Trevor pled.

“I can’t.” Everything was spinning that you didn’t have the guts to face him in fear of coming too early.

“Yes you fucking can.” He reached for your face and aggressively open up one of your eyes, grinning when your pupils expanded at the sight of his face. Sweat, perverted eyes, wobbly lips, sharply inhaled chest that his ribs were exposed, you were devastatingly attracted to this ugly version of him.

There he was, your dirty man; all rugged for your taste and all energised for the next taster. Trevor ensured you were to keep your eyes open before glancing down, his briefs hanging around his thin waist, tugging it further down until the happy-trail trickled towards the V-line, then hitting the sight of his touch-starved cock that was caked in god-knows how much sweat. It trembled when the dim light of his night-lamp stared it down, showing off the ugliness and divine ravenous.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, beastly needing the Devil’s touch.

Trevor whimpered and lined his cock against your loose pussy, his thumb remaining tightly against your clit to keep you actively pleasured. Inhaling the last freedom of oxygen, he pushed inwards and took control. You both moaned at the intense gratification and fulfilment.

“Mhm… Yeah, that’s right,�� He breathed when thrusting, his sweat being used as lube, “God, I fucking love you!”

You were being rattled relentlessly against the mattress as your back was inhumanly stuck to the material with nothing but pure sweat. His hands gripped your thighs and kept it wide apart when rocking in and out of your pussy, ignoring how frantically they were shaking. It made your head toss and turn to try and express this unnatural wave of euphoria.

Trevor chewed his bottom lip and adjusted himself onto his knees, leaning forward, lifting your legs up, the access to your sex getting bigger and the deeper he gets to fuck you. His hair was coiled in every direction despite the thinness after it was beyond bewildered by the caking of lather. It would occasionally drool down his face and drip onto your naked skin, his own fluids from the flesh of his body warming you up while he’s inside you – how dirty and filthy – how you are bonding and loving it like a Heavan in disguise.

“Trevor! Harder!” You unconsciously whined.

He shakingly gritted his teeth and slammed his hips wildly, “Shut –“ His voice lowered, “– the fuck up, baby. Fuck!”

“Please!”

The witch-craft – or as for now, bitch-craft – of your weak voice made him stammer forwards even more, his cock rapidly beating you to a pulp, just like you wanted.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and panted while he dismantled you like a doll. The sweat becoming equally as arousing, unlike before. He was taking great care of your pussy by demolishing it. So sweet and exasperating, a last blow threw you downhill and you gave him a high-pitched moan. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“Cum for… Fuck… FUCK!” Trevor aimed to command you but it backfired as he could barely hold himself hostage. So in a haze of immense desire, he pressed his wrenched forehead against yours and memorised this moment before the urge to cum was threatening to follow.

“Ah! Oh! Ohh…” A hurtful whimper lasted for seconds as your whole tummy went into a series of spasms, cum squirting out, painting his cock which was flooded with more warmth and more wetness than it already was. Trevor kept on fucking you through the orgasm and moaned your name repetitively, staring at you through his eyebrows as sweat dripped off his skin and onto your cheek like a dog drooling from it’s mouth.

Your face scrunched up and your climax met with his, a sudden blow of fluids attacking your pussy and deeper. He threw his head back and shouted. “FUCK! YES!”

The bed stopped creaking and shaking when he collapsed onto you. His face buried itself in the crook of your damp neck and his cock stayed inside you while it shook off the rest of his cum. The only sound was the shared breathing between you both that was as familiar as a wolf feasting its prey.

“Yeah…” He murmured suddenly, hands hugging your curves and more of his body weight pressing against you.

Rubbing his back, you whispered, “That felt so good…”

Trevor didn’t respond and closed his eyes. You were left comforting his tired body as he finally fell asleep, probably sleeping for the next 12 hours and caging you under his weight, making you roll your eyes but smile.

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