𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉丨𝔅𝔊3𝔛𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚡 - 𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 - 𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚎

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲. He ran hot, you could feel his heat emanating off his chest. His gloved hand was warm from wearing the gold gauntlet all day, well, most of the day when he wasn't tinkering. He kept it close to him.

You had spent the day with Gortash, while he tinkered and explained some of his sciences and discoveries about magic elements relating to Constructs. You listened to him drone on all day, though his voice was alluring. He didn't lead you home at the end of his day, he led you to his current place in the Upper City. He hadn't moved into Wyrm's Rock, but he told you he was to move his belongings in a few months, so you might see some crates packed up inside.

He didn't lie when he said he wanted you at his call. You'd been over a couple times since the Cobblestone Party. His knees bumping into yours as he showed you the cogs and trinkets on his workshop table you both sat at. His forearm bumping into your hands. He was so close you could feel his breath waft on you when he looked directly at you.

His house was embellished with navy blues and gold accents. The ceilings were high, and the carvings in the pillars were gargoyle-ish.

Now you stood in his personal room, with his warm plush lips wrapped over yours. You felt his stubble scratch your face as he synchronized with your slow pacing. You didn't mind this- kissing in his room. If it led to more- that'd be okay too. You were itching for some dick, some something from anyone clean. One night stands didn't just come to you, no one flocked to your door. And you were not sure if STD's were even treated well, or if they were common enough to be treated. You wouldn't support Raphael's whore house either. You supported sex workers- but you couldn't have Raphael rub it in your face in the future.

Enver went slow, his lips angled (up/down/directly) to yours (he's 5'8 ladies, I'm his height fun fact). His hands slowly traveled up your forearms, to your toned biceps and gripped them softly. He ushered you against his own body, totally flush with his chest. As close as he could have you. It almost felt sweet, how he treated you. The back of your mind murmured to you, 'he's a manipulator' but this wouldn't go any farther than sex. And you were enjoying yourself. You deserved a treat.

He let out a low hum as he moved away from your lips to your cheek, slowly to your jaw, to your ears leaving strings of saliva. Savoring the sweat you'd built up in the unventilated workshop. You sighed, letting out a small noise of enjoyment. He took the back of your biceps and wrapped them around his torso for you. Which you accepted, grabbing at the back of his thin black blouse.

"𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋" he whispered, nibbling behind your ear. You craned your neck, giving him more access.

"𝖱𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗆𝖾, 𝖤𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋." you tugged on his shirt again, and raked his back through the fabric.

He pulled back from the small hickey he was giving you, to look you in the eyes. Bumping the tips of your noses together. His black eyes, almost looked warm like they had a soul inside and his orbs flickered from your inviting stare to your soft red puffy lips.

You brain screamed at you 'match his freak! match his freak!' but you didn't even fucking know what that meant or where to start.

He gaped a bit, not sure what to say, those words pushed him to a new level of need. Instead of being composed, he hugged your frame and strangled a moan lowly in your ear. You felt him rubbing his clothed cock on your thigh in desperation.

"𝑴𝒎𝒉𝒉-𝒖𝒉𝒉𝒉" his breathing was getting more ragged against your neck, and his speed and his pressure against your thigh was increasing. His head rested on your shoulder, he couldn't look you in the eye, with the way he desired you.