Someone pls tell me if this doesn’t make sense
Thinking about the comedic relief character (maybe in a mafia book). Its a bonus if their best friend/the person they take orders from is the love interest to the main character. He is the only single one of the men in the group when the book ends; where’s his happy ending?
He used to joke about taking his best friend’s woman from him to piss him off, and it’s even funnier when she sees him as a brother and doesn’t take it to heart anyway, but all fake interest stops when you come around. You, finally someone possibly for him, and you quickly find out that despite his bubbly nature, there was an inexplainable amount of pent up sexual frustration going on.
It starts when you first meet at the bar. His friends point out that he seems to be having fun from their booth across the club, laughing almost as hard as you were at his words. In the past 10 minutes you’d been talking, he’d already called you the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, told you insane stories that he swears are true, and uses his charming smile to make you more comfortable than anyone you’d ever met. Of course, you had no idea the man next to you has handed men their deaths on a silver platter, but who cares about that right now?
Regardless, his cologne overwhelms your senses when he leans in to speak, tugging a giggle from your lips, smiling against the back of your ear and placing a chaste parting kiss before pulling away. He asks you to dance.
That’s how you find yourself on the floor, his hands draped around your waist, letting you guide him as you shake your hips to the bachata. He follows, occasionally twisting you around and dipping your head. It makes you feel free. Letting loose with this man you’d just met.
When you feel him behind you with one hand moving along his hip and the other curled back around his neck, you flush at the tent there. It’s his gun, but you don’t know that.
And then the song switches, something slower, sultry. You turn to face him where he already is smiling at you. Your arms connect at his nape.
Just when you get close enough as if you’re about to kiss him, only a breath away, the beat drops. He’s completely entranced when you begin to descend slowly, dragging your hands down his body with a featherlight touch and eye contact that can end a man.
“Shit,” he mumbles. This time, it wasn’t his gun.
He’s used to being over the top, testing the people around him to see how much he could get away with, but you’re something different. You’re like him, but worse.
Once you get as low as your body allows, you come back up just as languidly, not letting go of the doe-eyed expression that renders him speechless. It was a perfect view, allowing a small peak into your dress from above. Any wrong movement and the small mounds of your nipples would be on display for him.
He separates you from his job, but he does let you meet the crew that night. They’re all huge, one with a scar, others with tattoos and stern faces; you realize it literally is just the way he acts. He’s the only one with a humor. You sit and you all pass around drinks. The only other girl is sweet, though.
Unfortunately, the heat for him grows as he caresses your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your center, causing you to excuse yourself to the bathroom. He follows behind.
When you tuck yourself away, he knocks, “It’s me.”
You shout through the door, “Who?”
“The hot guy you were grinding on?” There’s a moment of silence. “…Is there more than one?”
Chuckling, you swing open the door, dragging him in. “You’re so annoying.”
“You love it.” He shoots you a sexy crooked smile. What you’re about to say next catches him by surprise.
“Unfortunately, and now you have to pay for it.”
“How so?” He knows how so.
You only prove it when you tug him by the chain wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. “Finish what you started.”
Instead of kissing you like he was supposed to, he swiftly rotates your hips around and tangles his hand in your hair as you face the mirror. “Actually, you started it.” His hold on you makes you release the softest hum into the air, but he may have heard it with how he leans right into your space, pressing up against you. “I vaguely remember you looking up at me, only inches away from what you want.”
His voice isn’t the same teasing one, but a velvety smooth version, rumbling through your core as the usually bright eyes sink into darkness in the reflection.
Sometimes people forget this character is his own person, with his own story, still somehow left unfulfilled in the end, even though he has an amazing group of friends and a seemingly happy ending. But damn, he’s just a man, you know?
Nobody takes him seriously since everyone knows he’d never separate his favorite couple despite all the times he’s said “I’m next.” The girlfriend in question rolls her eyes, saying “you wish.”
But he has feelings as well, and after fighting for so long, never actually having time to settle, he’d never thought about a real woman or the desire coursing through him. He’s more than just a side character.
Everyone is there when reading the erotic scenes of the main character, but what about him? Has anyone ever gotten perspective on the way he fucks? Because at the end of the day, he’s just as deadly as the rest of his friends, right?
Well you have an answer. It’s rough, and needy, and so so perfect. He hits you deep with a strong grip on your loose hair. And he’s not like the main character—they have two different personalities— he’s ten times more annoying and won’t degrade you. No, he’ll praise you, praise you until you know how much of a good fucking girl you are and how good you take his cock.
“Oh fuck, fuck—” you jerk into the counter from the force of the thrusts just to be pulled back in the same second. Only being able to stare at your distant reflection in the mirror is embarrassing, so you look past yourself to him.
He throws his hips into your ass and slaps the skin roughly a few times just to soothe out the pain with his hand. “Pussy’s so fucking tight. What? You don’t like me?”
He leaves enough room for you to twist your head no back and forth, whimpering as you try to provide an answer. “I-I do.” He’s huge, filling out and reaching walls you didn’t know extended that far.
He laughs outwardly hearing how fucked you are before gathering your wrists in the small of your back. His hand slips past your hair, now digging into your nape and forcing you down as he barrels forward. “That’s good. Can’t have that if I’ll be buried inside you more often.”
All that processes in your head is the grunts and the abuse on your pussy, pounding into your g-spot, and he’s loving every second he gets to witness the curled up features on your face to go with the mascara rolling down your puffy cheeks.
Breasts bouncing in the scrunched up dress, you begin to whine. “I’m coming,” you warn.
He leans forward and brings you up to meet him. His arms wrap under your neck, putting you into a headlock, but it’s nothing like the ones he does when he’s suffocating someone. It’s softer, foretold by the fact that you can still breathe.
All it does is bring him closer, his hips unstopping at a relentless pace, right into your ear so you can still hear him even if it’s slightly muffled by his arm. Every time he pulls out, you suck him right back in.
“Can’t believe that I get to ruin you.” Your hands come to grasp his arms, but it’s not nearly as tight as it should be. You groan deeply.
He’s petting your hair, somehow even able to press a kiss to your temple, but he never leaves. You can feel his lips move against your hot skin. “There you go pretty girl, fuck, keep clamping down on me. Show me how much you want it.”
“I w-want it,” you nod. Or try to.
“Yeah?”
Your eyes shut as the heat multiplies.
“You can’t back out now, baby,” he chuckles, and it’s a little breathless. He seems to be talking so fast and you can only understand a few words at a time. “Open your eyes. Watch yourself come on my cock.”
Your eyes might stay open for the slightest second, but it hits you so fast that they might have just rolled into the back of your head. He doesn’t stop. It still jolts you back and forth and it’s so overwhelming mixed with everything of him.
You come so hard you almost get a migraine.
Moral of the story is, don’t forget about your favorite side character. He may be just as good in bed. ;)
©️hxltic
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