#they were done dirty but it’s manageable for me
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briarberrythornedhart · 2 days ago
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Maritime Warfare
Contains: flirting, banter, not appropriate work behavior, licking someone’s hand, suggestive talk, fluff
Eddie is very used to people pulling away.
He plays chicken, or teases, or gets in their faces. He flirts hard and dirty. And his target inevitably backs away and it hurts a little but Eddie tells himself it’s what he wanted. That he ‘won’ somehow. Because they think he’s too scary, or intense, or TOO MUCH and they always back away, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch... So - it’s a win of sorts. Right??
Cut to the moment when Eddie’s pulse is racing and he is sweating kinda all over and his cock is pressed uncomfortably against his jean fly but he can’t adjust it or YOU might notice his hand and follow it down with your hot eyes.
He’s only gone ATOMIC because you flirted back.
🍦 🦇 🍦
The new StarCourt Mall is bustling. Built further up Coal Mill Road, Northeast from Lover’s Lake, the new Mall has a lot of the old mall’s classic’s, including a Scoops Ahoy with the new management from Murray Bauman.
When Eddie got hired at Guitar Center he found he could get the occasional free scoop from Dustin Henderson if he were on shift. But the week SHE started working there, he suddenly found himself wanting ice cream for lunch - and only Ice Cream - every day.
“Back again, I see? Things slow at the Rock Star Factory?” His dream girl asked, adjusting her vest and readying the sample spoons. Probably because the last time he was here, Eddie swore he was gonna try every flavor. He had quickly done the math that with the 2 samples policy it would take him about a month to complete that quest.
“No officially licensed ‘Ahoy’ greeting dished out for little ol’ me??” Eddie asked.
“Ahoy. there. Matey. Are you ready to set sail on an ocean of flavor?” She said with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. I’m hungry for a tasty adventure.” Eddie nodded.
She stuck out her tongue. Which was what he wanted to really taste... “Dustin is off work today. It’s just me here so don’t hold up the line with your usual indecision paralysis, okay?”
Eddie indicated ‘who me?’ by touching his chest, innocent as the day is long. “What’s the proper rank to address you by whilst I order?” Eddie asked. “Is it cadet, boatswain, or plain ol’ ...Seaman?’ He asked with a wide smirk.
She laughed, “You’re gonna call me whatever you want, Eddie, I don’t know why you ask permission.”
“I just can’t believe this uniform you have to wear, it’s a bit campy, don’t you think, like... don’t you mind that you have to wear that little hat and that the guys uniform is less tight and not as short?”
“Is it, I hadn’t noticed.” She said dryly, “Why..? do I look especially bad in it??” Eddie was almost certain he saw her pout, for a millisecond.
“No,” Eddie shook his head emphatically and gestured wildly with his hands, almost taking out a little kid who was pressing his face to the ice cream freezer. “You- you look great. I bet Murray hired you because he was thinking about what you’d look like in that get up... and out of it. You know he’s a big perv, right?”
Eddie leaned in, got closer and straightened her ‘My Name Is Y/N, Ask me about Scoops Points” Pin...and instead of her knocking his hand away or telling him to hurry up and order, or telling him to shut the fuck up, all of which he was prepared for as normal responses to his nonsense - she leaned in closer and whispered, “Murray’s never-ever gonna see what’s under this get up. That’s for Your Eyes Only, Sailor.”
Eddie nearly swallowed his own tongue.
“So whatt’ll it be?” She asked. “Probably not vanilla, right? You don’t look like you enjoy plain vanilla.” She looked him up and down, grinning.
“I l-like vanilla sometimes...” Eddie stammered.
“With something drizzled on it? Extra whipped cream on top? Over hot pie? Oh - I can warm up a couple big soft cookies for you??”
“DO YOU WANNA go out sometime?!” Eddie started this out a little louder than he meant to.
Her eyes were so surprised on him - her mouth was in the shape of a little ‘o’.
The other patrons all seemed to be looking at him all the sudden and yet that was not as nerve wracking as waiting for her answer.
“I’m sorry I should not have asked you - you’re at work - Can I just ... ::sigh:: have a scoop of chocolate please and thank you.” Eddie murmured, and rubbed his forehead hard enough to hurt a bit.
She gave him a large scoop of chocolate in the Kiddie Scoop Sloop. Too much to fit in that container, really.
He handed her a $5 bill and Eddie studiously looked at Everything except Her while she rang it up
“Your change?” She said and pressed that same 5 back into his hand?? and held it there until he looked back into her eyes.
“Whut?” Eddie knew she’d cast a spell on him, he was stunned-reeling and likely to remain so for some time.
“Hey - It’s dripping all over your hand, Messy.” She took his hand holding the Scoop Sloop and licked a drip from his forefinger over his knuckles. Her tongue was so warm.
“Let’s go out after work?” She asked. “You get off at 7?”
Eddie thought for a beat. “Usually, but I’d like to get you off first.”
And she didn’t pull away or flinch. She just smiled.
Eddie had never been so happy to ‘lose’.
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fuck-customers · 14 hours ago
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Recently I was on rotation to the front desk of a primary care office that also houses specialty clinics. So to suffice to say it is heinously busy and we still have to take care of our teams while we are up there. At one point I need to run to the restroom where I find what I can only describe as GI bleed remnants smeared on the toilet. And if you work in healthcare, you know that while iron supplements can make things a certain color, the smell is what differentiates it. So I run back to the front, we get a post it note and write "Out of Order" on it and post it to the door. Cue the next day when the RN manager comes out and asks why that sign is on there and I explain that I forgot about the sign and why it was placed. Cue her berating me for placing it on there and how it should say something like "Dirty" instead of "Out of Order" because the second implies that something is broken. She leaves and the other two with me up front agree that putting a sign up that says "Dirty" is up there in the list of worst sign ideas ever. Whatever, the bathroom was cleaned and we moved on. Cue then the building manager making a giant announcement about said sign in Teams to the whole building about how we don't use post it notes and we need to put in orders when we find something like that. Of note, we were slammed the whole day up front and I am one of the few who keeps up with my work for my team so to say time was crunched was not an exaggeration. So needless to say my policy now is if I see it, no I didn't. If I find it, no I didn't. All over a post it note to avoid patients and staff walking into that restroom. I hope they're proud of the work they've done.
Posted by admin Rodney
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precambrian-sea-pancake · 10 months ago
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Giving context to things in Shadows of Rose that really needed context because I didn’t like them and they barely got context.
1) The Winter’s separating: it’s very much established they would not willingly separate. Mia loves Rose. There’s no way she’d willingly give up another family member after being widowed. Plus, Chris OF ALL PEOPLE should not want to separate the family. Literally the whole theme was about family. Hot take but there’s 3 of them.
2) Chris saying he would protect Rose and then asking her to join the squad: I refuse to believe Chris would go against his dying friend’s wishes. Putting someone in a fight isn’t protection
3) Rose barely knowing anything about Ethan: I mean…come on. That’s your dead husband and your dead friend who basically made you the godfather. There’s got to be a reason, right?
So…enjoy me fixing all of that by saying things Capcom loves to leave out
———
Mia raised Rose in the beginning when she was a kid, with the help of Chis. They were close. She was very paranoid about her safety and did everything she could to help Rose live a normal life considering they were under even stricter protection than before. Because of this and the fact that Rose would be too young to understand at the time, Mia and Chris were very selective about what was said. They told her things like “your father loved you” “he died protecting you” “he would’ve loved to be here”
The two of them wanted her so do to school because she needed socialization. Unfortunately she had a very hard time. Chris and Mia did their best to be supportive but it was a very tough situation for all of them.
Eventually when she got a little older the higher ups realized how much at risk the Winters were (and also for selfish reasons because Rose powerful. I mean…let us not forget Sherry ;-;), decided it would be best to separate the two to “protect” them. Be it by boarding school, training, etc. It’s kinda unclear but it happened.
Mia hated this. She couldn’t lose Rose but ultimately didn’t have any power over the situation. Chris hated it just as much also tried to prevent this but he too couldn’t change it.
Chis contact with Rose given his job and was the bridge between the two but as time went on things got more complicated and messy.
Eventually Chris got to a point where he wanted Rose by his side more often and to be the one in control instead of the higher ups. So he wanted Rose to join his squad so she could defend herself and not belong to some shitty government thing. At least this way it was easier…at least in Chris’s mind. To him it was protection. Was it the best idea? No, but to him it was.
After the DLC, they learn Ethan is still present in some sort of way. It motivates Chris to try fighting once more for the family to be together again.
Rose remembers everything she saw in the Megamycete’s recreation of her old house and how both of her parents loved her…and sees the mother on the bus reading a book to her kid.
Now both motivated to try again they’re successfully able to get visitation between Rose and Mia.
It starts off slow but eventually it happens more and more. It’s hard because it’s been so long, but they work to reconnect. Since Rose is older and has context, Mia (although very hesitant and needing some encouragement. Plus taking a few meetings for it to even happen) explains their family history to Rose piece by piece until the story is complete.
As for Rose joining the squad?
She joined because she knew her dad fought to help her family. She, like her father, is a kind person. She wants to help protect people and make sure they don’t suffer the same fate as her family. One more good soul to combat a corrupt world. She’s at an awkward age at a very emotional time. Her decisions might not be final but it’s giving it a try. She might stay or she might not. She might like it or she might hate it. Only time and experiences will decide that.
While things aren’t perfect, the Winters are at least together. Just like what Chris tried to do, and just like what Ethan wanted.
———
It’s not perfect, but I tried my best with what was available and worked within the confines of the story. I loved the DLC, but it does have flaws that annoy me. So I fixed it UwU.
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prodbyton · 8 months ago
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hi toniiswrld nation i am having the worst fucking day but how are you guys 😇‼️
im gonna rant in the tags so feel free to ignore😁
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tariah23 · 1 year ago
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I can’t wait to start estie school wha
#I’ll have to learn how to do all sorts of shit but working alongside them while I was at the spa made me super interested#the only thing is that the estheticians weren’t getting booked as much as the nail techs and massage therapists (only busy on the weekends)#while they’d come in for one client or 2 on other days and would be pissed off because the client wanted like a brow wax instead of a#facial (waxes are like nothing on a check)#while the nail techs and therapists (especially the lmt’s) were making way more because of course#most ppl would rather get a massage or their nails done or whatever over a facial depending#I also learned that a lot of ppl tend to get facials early in the morning because they didn’t want to wash their face after waking up🗿……#(white clients) and of course they’re dirty as hell as always#what’s the point…#well anyway#I feel like I’d make more money working at a place that specializes in things specially estie centric#because otherwise I’d be waiting around for a client without getting booked at at a spa that does everything#I was just doing maintenance by my checks were always way more than the esties 🗿… they shit would be like $500 and I’d feel so bad#but at the spa the work was commissioned based so they literally would come in and sit around for hours for one client and not be getting#paid#this was for the therapists and nail techs as well but they could get some hourly pay by working with my department/ helping out when they’d#have downtime#but tbh#that was so shitty like you have to do Manuel hard labor shit just to get a couple of extra bucks on your check because of the managers#being unprofessional and changing the books around because of favoritism and shit#so annoying#well anyway I still want to get my#esthetician license and prob get certified in a couple of other things as well like tattoo removal and other stuff#I’d have to learn how to wax and so on (I don’t care to do makeup I don’t even do my own)#rambling#the only ppl who were making hourly were the concierges and my department and it wasn’t even that much but I liked my job anyway only be of#my coworkers. the managers and annoying entitled clients always kind of ruined the atmosphere though and everyone would always be so#stressed out and pissed off despite us all working in a spa like this is a place for relaxation but I guess that never applied to the#workers being treated like trash#just as long as we catered to the annoying white ppl coming in and spending a couple of racks
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gojonanami · 5 months ago
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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞
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❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞
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✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader
✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)
✧ w/c: 8,939
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You were a pretty little thing. 
That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you? 
You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room. 
The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him. 
“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 
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“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?” 
“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?” 
“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?” 
Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—” 
Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—” 
You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?” 
Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,” 
“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,” 
Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different. 
And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence. 
“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?” 
“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead. 
And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too. 
“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself. 
You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough. 
You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.” 
And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,” 
You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened. 
“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,” 
“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs. 
And that was your first time meeting Sukuna. 
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But far from your last.  
The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.
You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open. 
“You want another drink, Choso?” 
“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small. 
“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips. 
“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat. 
“Uh—“ 
“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence. 
“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face. 
“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?” 
And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—
“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?” 
“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna. 
And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either. 
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The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him. 
“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to. 
“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,” 
“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?” 
You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?” 
He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down. 
“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“ 
There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves. 
You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.” 
He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it,  “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”
You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 
And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone. 
A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,” 
You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,” 
“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing. 
“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort. 
“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?” 
You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?” 
And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,” 
“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?” 
“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms. 
“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you. 
“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?” 
And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—
The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna. 
“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 
And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso. 
Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?” 
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And now he had visited you in your dreams too. 
“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?” 
And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants. 
“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 
“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“ 
“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,” 
And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt. 
“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles. 
“Now you’re getting it, baby.” 
And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream. 
“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that. 
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“Have you been avoiding me?” 
Yes, you have done a good job. Until now. 
You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in? 
And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out. 
“Had” being the operative word. 
It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep. 
And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you). 
“What are you talking about?” 
And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked. 
Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door. 
You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke. 
“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”
No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real. 
“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer. 
“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed. 
No, it was more of a curse. 
“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass. 
“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,” 
“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his. 
“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—
SLAM! 
You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you. 
“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,” 
“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?” 
“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head. 
“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word. 
You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”
And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning. 
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But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.
Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while. 
Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—” 
“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?” 
Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,” 
“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,” 
“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much? 
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“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful. 
“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?” 
“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet. 
“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle. 
“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers. 
You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts. 
“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?” 
And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself. 
So you don’t.  
You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,” 
And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here. 
And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much. 
Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh. 
“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?” 
He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,” 
“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,” 
Wait. What? 
And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still. 
Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind. 
And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own. 
Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close. 
“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,” 
“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow. 
“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?” 
You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts. 
“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits. 
“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl. 
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together. 
But you couldn’t. Not without him. 
“Sukuna—“ 
“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“ 
“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them. 
And he smiles all the same. 
“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,” 
“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets. 
“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,” 
You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“ 
“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants. 
And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,” 
You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue. 
“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt. 
“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb. 
“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,” 
And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek. 
He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers. 
“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 
he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open. 
“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“ 
“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,” 
His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit. 
“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy. 
You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet. 
You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,” 
You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open. 
And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside. 
You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“ 
“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,” 
And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit. 
He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt. 
He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth. 
“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together. 
Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.  
Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”
You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“ 
“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in. 
God, fuck. 
Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt. 
He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you. 
It was only the first. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy. 
“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—�� and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning. 
“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,” 
he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”
You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear. 
“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,” 
You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.
“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant. 
“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit,  “I’m—” 
And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—
You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load. 
His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in. 
“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you. 
“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.” 
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The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?” 
“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but 
You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick. 
And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you. 
“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around. 
“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips. 
Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg. 
“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,” 
“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence. 
Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?” 
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna. 
“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night. 
“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line,  “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.
“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,” 
“She’s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder. 
“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,” 
And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you. 
“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all. 
Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place. 
“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?” 
“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?” 
“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh. 
“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful. 
“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.” 
“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle. 
“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.” 
“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt. 
“Want me to prove it?” 
And oh, he would. Again and again. 
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✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?
✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial
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sttoru · 8 months ago
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𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
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“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
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CR. STTORU 2024
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logansbaby · 2 months ago
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GUILTY AS SIN - Logan Howlett
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❥ summary: the entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings.
word count: 8.5k (IM SORRY!!!!)
pairings: logan howlett x fem! mutant reader
content warnings: 18+ CONTENT MDNI, masturbation, dirty thoughts, light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (reader and logan receiving), spitting, sixty-nining, scent kink, like one spank, underwear stays ON, slight hint of arousal from crying?, creampie, p in v (practice safe sex ty!)
❥ a/n: guys…… am i…. a whore? (yes) do i need to be locked up? (also yes). i started this when i was on my period so maybe that’s the reason this is so filthy? anyway i don’t know how it got to 8k of smut but it DID and i have nothing to say about that… also reader has a mutation it’s not super in depth but her hair changes to red in certain situations and she has red light/energy she manifest in her hands, kind of confusing but it’s okay. anyway please please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3
— ˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
‘I keep recalling things we never did
Messy top lip kiss
How I long for our trysts
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?’
Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift
— ˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚
THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.
Despite the fact that goosebumps adorn your body, it felt as though you were on fire. Huffs escaped parted lips, a charged hum zipping through your veins that only intensified each time you moved. You’d been trying to sleep for the past couple hours, trying to ignore the need thrumming through you, but had only managed to fail.
You turn on your side for possibly the twentieth time, but the position only worsens your state as the flesh of your thighs squeeze unintentionally, a wave of brief relief sent to your throbbing core. Tears brim your lashes, damp with frustration because fuck, your body was humming with lust and everything was so, so sensitive.
This was all Logan’s fault.
The man has been gone less than a week and yet, your body was practically vibrating with need, trembling with desire.
The feelings you harbor make you feel shameful and guilty for a handful of reasons.
Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.
You pretended it never bothered you when he pointedly ignored your greetings in passing or refused to partner up with you. You didn’t understand what you’d done to upset him, to warrant his treatment of you as if you were the most annoying person on the planet. More often than not, you are the subject of the man’s pointed glare.
So, logically, your heart shouldn’t race at the mere thought of him. Nor should desire pool between your thighs whenever images of his sweaty form cloud your mind.
By definition, you were immensely smart; a genius with how you could understand what others could not.
Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did.
He wasn’t, your mind huffed.
He was, your heart retorted.
A memory comes forward, one that has your cheeks blushing, your chest rising a little faster than before.
A couple weeks ago, you’d been up late, struggling to sleep and with the way it evaded you, wandering the halls had been your solution, in hopes of tiring yourself out.
But when you had walked down your hallway, you froze at the sight of a shirtless Logan in his room, the door left ajar.
A towel covered his head as he scrubbed away the wetness in his hair, and you desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed your presence. Water dribbled down his muscular body, and your eyes greedily watched each droplet descend down, glistening against the tan stomach you wanted to bite. What really had you drooling, however, was the thick, prominent vein that crept down into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Said pants had your eyes wide with the prominent bulge tented in the material.
When you just barely caught yourself from moaning, you had dashed back to your room right away. You were wide awake still, but for a completely different reason. All you could think about was tracing your tongue along that vein.
If you’d fucked yourself that night to the thought of him and his glistening torso, no one had to know.
So theoretically, if you gave in to your cravings, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t make you feel any less guilty.
Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need.
Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.
A gasp sounds, melodic as it swirls with heavy breathes, fluttering around the room as you brush over your clit. Even through the material of your underwear, the slight pressure of your fingers made you mewl.
Flashes of Logan dance behind closed lids, your imagination running wild while you messily swirl over your bundle of nerves.
You wanted him so, so bad, in every way possible, it actually hurt, both your heart and core.
Your mind submerges your consciousness with thoughts of him; his pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the tufts of his brown hair. The muscles that were constantly on display, his thick thighs that you wanted to ride until you came all over him, and the huge bulge that was ever present in those flattering jeans of his (and if it was a reoccurring fantasy of yours to ride that delicious bulge over his jeans until you both came from just dry humping, again— no one had to know).
Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.
Him hovering over you, dog tags swinging in your face as he fucked you hard. Him picking you up and taking you against the nearest surface, lips trapped in an erotic kiss. Him prying your thighs open as he licked up your pussy, tongue dipping into your hole to lap up all the desire pooling, his lips wrapping around the swollen bud and sucking violently. Him holding your face lovingly as his hips thrusted his cock deeper into your throat, groans spilling at the gag you’d let out.
You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.
You didn’t even bother to remove the damp underwear, instead circling the engorged bud over the material— and oh, fuck. The roughness of the lace mixed with the delicious rubbing of your fingers send little moans tumbling from parted lips.
Your unoccupied hand slips under the shirt covering your chest and only settle once your nipple is pinched between determined fingers, rolling the pert bud in tandem with the amorous touch of your hand on your sex.
Pleasure nips at your pelvis, and if you were a little more aware, you’d be embarrassed at how fast you to reaching your peak. But, as it is, your brain is completely hazy with wanton thinking and the only thing on your mind was lessening the ache that pulsates deep within you.
And fuck, you’re so fucking needy for logan that you try to pretend it’s his fingers abusing your clit, his fingers tugging at the sensitive buds of your chest. You want his tongue between your thighs, licking up your desire and sucking your puffy bud into his pretty mouth.
Chest rising rapidly, you feel overwhelmed at the fantasies swirling before your eyes. Its far too much— the mix of your filthy desires and your fingers rubbing your nub have your legs quivering as wetness coats your hand.
“Logan, Logan, Logan—“ The chant of his name mindlessly falls from you, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, threatening to pull you under those soaring, unforgiving waves of pleasure.
Eyes snap shut, ears ring with white noise, and your hips hump your hand pitifully— you were an absolute, writhing mess against the sheets.
The hair messily strewn around your pillow shifts then from its natural state to a dark red. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the vermillion light whirling at your fingertips, begging to be released.
Your mutation was not one of subtlety.
Searing bliss coils in your lower tummy, your button tingling with the after effects of the orgasm that crashed into you. You sigh, because even though you just came, you felt far from satisfied. Your body buzzes with sweltering hunger, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Even if you fuck yourself dizzy with another orgasm, you knew it won’t satiate your body. Not completely, anyway.
Before you could slip your fingers inside your weeping hole, a loud knock echos through your room.
You still; desperate and hoping that if you ignored the noise, whoever was knocking would simply go away. But when another rhythmic thump comes a few seconds later, you huff.
It’s well past midnight at this point, so who in their right mind would be going about and slamming their fists on your door?
Apparently, you arent moving fast enough when the person has the nerve to knock for a third time, hand a little heavier than before. A growl, tinged with annoyance, slips out as you fling yourself up and off the bed.
You stomp to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off.
But when you actually swing open the mahogany door, all the anger simmering beneath your heated skin disappears, along with your breath, as your eyes take in the sight before you.
Logan Howlett stands before you, seemingly angry as a frown etches deep on his face. He glares at you, hazel eyes swarming with exasperation and something unknown.
And little did you know, all of your craziest, fatal fantasies were about to come true.
The moment Logan steps into the mansion, finally back from the complete shit show of a mission Charles had sent him on, he tenses instantly.
His fingers clench into fists, tight enough that the skin turns white. The adamantium claws threaten to poke through his knuckles as he inhales deeply.
Big mistake.
That sweet, sweet scent swarms his heightened senses, the intoxicating smell nearly making him dizzy. His heart speeds up, his stomach flutters, and his cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
Logan could fucking smell you.
It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door.
He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.
He decides then, as his body finally moves up the steps, that ignoring you is the best option.
But as he gets closer to the hallway he shares with you (just his luck, by the way!), he realizes that plan is a joke.
He feels his control slipping, especially as the heady scent grows stronger, tinged with something else— something erotic and salacious.
Logan curses, his entire being rigid.
You’re aroused, the smell seeping under the crack of the door giving you away instantly.
The idea of you whining as your pussy drips slick between your thighs has him grinding his teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing in an attempt to harness the control back to his body.
Though, it goes out the window entirely as his body is apruptly outside your door, unconsciously drawn to the very essence of you.
There’s a reason Logan has kept carefully crafted distance between the two of you.
The minute he was introduced to you, a new member of the x-men and teacher for the school, he knew he was fucked.
From the first look shared between you, he knew.
A pretty smile had graced your lips, eyes filled with joy as you greeted him, a hand outstretched in his direction as your hair swayed with your movements. In your cute, little outfit (a pretty, white lace dress that kissed the tops of your thighs, matched with baby pink pumps that accentuated your legs), he thought you looked like a princess.
He had stayed frozen, however, because he was assaulted with the fucking smell of you. It was nothing like he’d encountered before, and he’d been around for over a century.
Your scent was so fucking sweet, vanilla and honey permeated his nostrils and right in that moment, he wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.
He knew that he had to keep his distance, otherwise he’d become addicted to you in every sense. If he let himself, he’d worship the very ground you walked on. He couldn’t risk having the walls he’d spent so long building to crumble.
And in an instant, he was angry that his body had reacted this way to someone he’d never even met. He was angry he wanted to press sweet kisses on your face while simultaneously wanting to fuck you on his cock until you screamed his name.
So, with that, he’d made up his mind.
He had simply glared at you, refused to acknowledge your existence and stormed out of Charles’ office. And since that day, he’s tried his hardest to pretend you didn’t exist— if only to ease the way you constantly haunted his every thought.
He pretended it didn’t kill him to see how your face would crumble at his rude behavior, at how he avoided you at all costs. He couldn’t help it, though, because if he treated you how he wanted, like the princess you were, he’d never let you go.
A sudden noise shakes him from the depths of his mind, that carnal, sensual essence growing stronger by the second.
“Logan, Logan, Logan,” your honeyed voice whines, all airy and light.
And it’s almost comical how the telltale snikt! sounds immediately after because what?
What the fuck? He thinks, mind utterly destroyed at the revelation that not only were you seemingly fucking yourself, but you were moaning his name.
Logan growls, low and dangerous as his claws reveal themselves, cutting through the skin of his knuckles. His body feels unnaturally hot, practically set on fire. His cock now uncomfortably hard in his jeans, lustful essence bubbling at his tip and no doubt staining his boxers.
With the wafts of your pretty aroma and sounds of your lewd whimpers, he knows he can’t resist you any longer.
His hand lifts, claws retracting as his heavy fist slams on your door.
And the sight of you, face shiny with a sheen of sweat has him choking on his own saliva.
Tonight was the night his control finally snaps, despite months of work put into avoiding you.
Logan knows his animalistic side is about to be released; he’s going to fucking ruin you.
You gulp, a hand resting on the door frame as you stand frozen because honestly, what the fuck?
You deduce that the universe hates you because why? Why would the man you’d been thinking of while masturbating be right in front of you?
It only dawns on you when Logan’s gaze swipes over your figure that you’re basically naked. Clad only in your blushed, frilly top and the matching underwear, the latter soaked with both your arousal and release.
You shrink beneath his eyes, warmth simmering hot on the apples of your cheeks, and your mouth opens and closes, yet no words follow.
“Uh— Logan, hey!” Your voice is shaky, and whether it’s from the power of your release or the nerves that bumble beneath your skin at the man before you, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that you want the ground to swallow you up whole.
Logan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at you in a way that you don’t understand. You assume he’s just gotten home from the very long mission, and confusion settles over you as to why he was at your door, especially considering how he badly despises you.
You’re about to voice that exact thought when Logan beats you to speaking.
“I heard you.” His gruff tone is coated in something darker than you’d ever heard before.
For a moment, you’re perplexed, brows furrowing and raising before your eyes go comically wide.
And— oh, oh.
“Can smell you, too.”
Heat licks at your whole body, embarrassment threatening to envelope you entirely. Tears of horror tickle your lash line, because this was probably the most painful moment of your life. Not only does the man hate you, but now he’s heard you moan his name as you came all over your fingers? How pathetic are you?
You open your mouth, an apology heavy on your tongue. You need to say something to quell the panic flooding your body— you’re never going to get over this
Though, before you can even speak, Logan slams his mouth onto yours.
He holds your head softly, a deep contrast to the way his lips melt over yours. A moan slips from your open mouth, the feel of his lips sucking at your bottom lip feels immensely intense and so, so good.
Your arms wrap around his neck, fingertips tangling themselves in the hair at his nape like you’ve wanted to do since the very day you met him.
“Logan—“ you whimper against his mouth, trying and failing to understand what the fuck was happening as he slips his tongue inside your wet, warm mouth. “Logan.”
He ignores you, grunting against your spit, slick lips as his hands travel down your curves, until they find purchase on your ass, gripping hard. A choked gasp spills from you as he suddenly paws at you, picking you up effortlessly in his strong arms.
The idea of him holding you up with no hesitation has your hips shuddering forward without your permission. Vaguely, you feel him move past the threshold of your door, slamming it shut before pressing your body up against the wood.
Logan switches between licking your tongue and sucking meanly at your lips, until they feel full and swollen with his attention. You’re pliant— almost willing to let him do anything he’d like to you.
Almost.
As good as his tongue feels dancing with yours, confusion still settles over your mind. Perhaps this was a dream and if that’s the case, you never want to wake up.
“Wait—wait.” You pull back, the questions swirling inside probing you until it’s impossible to ignore.
“Huh, baby?” Logan groans, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before sucking at the swollen skin.
Babybabybabybabybaby— the pet name clouds your senses for a second, a rush of arousal pooling at your hole. You want to cry at how that simple, simple word makes you feel.
“Stop that.” You mumble, pulling your head back and lips out of his reach.
Logan stares at you, silent but waiting as he waits for you say whatever is on your mind. Frankly, he wants his tongue to be buried deep in your cunt right about now, but, details.
“What is going on?” Breathless, the question settles between you, causing Logan’s brow to raise.
“Well, my tongue was just in your mouth—“ you slap his chest, face turning warm at his bluntness.
“Not that. I’m— why are you here? Why are you kissing me when you can’t stand me?” Your voice is quiet, insecurity present in your tone. Nimble fingers grasp the dog tags that rest on his chest, and you’ve never been grateful for it.
At that, Logan’s face scrunches up, confusion floating around his irises, lips curving downward.
“What are you talking about?” If it wasn’t for the genuineness in his voice, you would’ve smacked his chest again at how clueless he was.
“What do you mean? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me; you’ve despised my entire existence the moment we met— wait, I can’t even say that because you didn’t even have the decency to greet me!”
Frustration hovers over you heavily, enough to snap you out of the lustful spell Logan often inflicts upon you. You slide down his body, ignoring the quiver of your cunt when you make contact with his jean clad bulge. You push at his chest, needing distance to ensure you actually get your words out and don’t end up back with his tongue down your throat.
“I don’t hate you.” Logan grunts out, staring at you as you pace the wooden floors of the room. Vaguely, he’s paying attention, but he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes focus on the way your ass shifts with each step, the plush skin so inviting as the lace cup each cheek. “What’re you on about?”
Frankly, Logan’s pissing you off. The vague answers are getting on your nerves, enough that you feel yourself snap.
Your hair swiftly turns bright red, a scarlet blossoming over the strands until they coat them completely. Your emotions could never quite be concealed, not with the way your hair would turn different variations of red when you were angry, furious, sad, happy, aroused.
“You’ve been a dick to me, treating me like shit for no reason and now you think you can just waltz in here and kiss me like that? You think you can pretend to want me when we both know that’s not true?”
Balls of fiery, red energy bloom at your fingertips, and though you stand in your pretty pink assortment, you look the part of threatening.
It’s too bad the abrupt display of your mutation, mixed with fiery words, has Logan’s cock jerking with want.
“Sometimes, I question whether or not you’re actually a genius.”
And just like that, you feel the words like a punch to the gut. You’re so mad, so blind by the intense emotions you feel for Logan, that you feel those pesky flames of energy moving up your wrist and forearm, a telltale sign of your anger.
“Fuck you, Logan.” You hiss, your fingers hot with the heat coursing through them.
What pisses you off more, to which your hair and eyes darken to a dangerous maroon, is the fact that Logan wears a faint smirk, watching you with humor as if you aren’t showcasing how pissed you are.
“Are you done yet?” Logan takes a step closer, uncaring of the way your mutation flares furiously at his presence.
“Logan, leave me alone. I don’t need you to sit here and pretend to want me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, either.” Huffing, you glare up at the man before you, who stares back just as pointedly.
You turn around, back facing him as you go to enter the attached bathroom when all at once, you’re spun back around by a hand on your nape, your neck in a delicious tight grip as Logan pulls you into his body, smashing his mouth on yours for the second time tonight.
Your body betrays you, a desperate whimper ebbs out at how fucking good Logan’s lips feel on yours.
His teeth bite down on your top lip, before suckling sweetly to combat the pain flourishing there. You moan, mouth falling open as he messily kisses you. The intoxicating taste of him swarms your tastebuds, his tongue swirling with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy with need.
A string of spit connects between your mouths as Logan pulls away, chuckling meanly when you promptly follow the warm wetness of his lips. A rough hand grips your throat again, tight enough to leave you feeling breathless but delicious enough to make your cunt squeeze around nothing.
“So that’s what you think, princess? That I don’t want you?” Logan’s fingers flex around your throat, gripping at your jaw to capture all of your attention. As if you were anything but than enamored with him. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing, huh?”
You can only stare up at him as your heartbeat rings loudly through your eardrums. A hand goes to tug at his shirt, an attempt to steady yourself, but Logan’s faster as he grabs your wrist.
“Answer me.” He whispers hotly as the hand holding yours captive moves to intertwine your fingers.
The touch of him, the hold on your throat and roughness of his fingers in yours, renders you speechless. You’re so overcome with your emotions that you can only manage to nod. The weight of you goes limp in his hold, silently begging him to do something to satiate the hunger burning every inch of you.
“Words, baby. Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunts, his grip leaving your neck in favor of thumbing at your lips.
“Yes— I, it’s what it’s seemed like, what you’ve made me feel. Thought you hated me.”
Logan’s nose twitches, no doubt smelling your arousal as it leaks into the material covering you, ruining the lace.
“Couldn’t be more wrong,” He groans, pushing his thumb past the soft of your lips. His knees nearly buckle at the feel of your mouth closing and sucking his thumb, tongue rolling up against the skin as though it was his cock instead. “Shit, baby.”
You whine around his finger, eyes fluttering up at him in a way that has his dick aching for you.
“Fuck, been dreaming about you since the day we met. Been dreaming of you in every way possible.” He admits, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you freeze, lips leaving his thumb with a ‘pop’.
“What?” It’s a whisper, barely audible but he heard it all the same. The butterflies in your stomach are now having a complete rager, bolts of anxiousness kissing your skin.
“Of course.” Logan leanes down, pressing a kiss to your wet lips. “Knew the second I saw you you’d ruin me, so I just… stayed away. I never meant to make you think the worst. M’sorry, honey.”
This was not the way you’d expected tonight to go.
It’s as though all the confusion, anger, and sadness drain from you and, in its place,its full of the tremulous feeling of the admission.
And despite the fact that you’d fucked yourself thinking about him, and he’d heard, you feel incredibly shy. You drop your head to his hard chest, your hands squeezing his own where he holds them.
“I don’t know what to say.” You utter, brain all muddled and no other thoughts come forth as Logan haunts every inch of your mind. You feel like an idiot, even though Logan had acted like a dick for the better part you’d known him.
Logan simply lifts your head, invading your senses as his nose bumps yours.
“You were a dick.” It’s spoken factually, making him huff against your face.
“I know.”
“You could’ve kissed me months ago.”
“Can I kiss you now?”
His quick reply leaves you flushing, but when you nod, his lips are back on yours instantly, in their rightful place.
The kiss is messy; hot, wet, and dirty. Logan groans when you jump up, strong arms catching your thighs in a tight grip. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lose yourself in the thrilling taste of his mouth. You unconsciously start humping him, dragging your drenched panties across his hard dick.
You suck on his tongue before capturing his lip between your teeth, nails dragging down his shoulder blades. A loud, feral growl escapes Logan, and without another thought, he throws your pliant body on the bed.
And at the sight of you, Logan feels like he’s about to come right then and there. In your skimpy outfit, so much plush, soft skin is on display. The hair tumbling from your shoulders has turned a dark cherry color during your kiss, and your hands are tickled with red energy that’s twirling up your arms, not unlike the way vines thread onto an old home.
This time, though, he knows you’re not upset, but instead, aroused.
He can smell the way your slick seeps from your fluttering hole, how it sticks to the skin of your thighs.
And fuck, he wants to sink his face right in front of your pussy and inhale until he’s woozy with the complete perfume of you.
So, that’s exactly what he does.
Your eyes widen as Logan drops onto the floor in front of the bed, yanking your body to the edge. Your lower half is completely in his grip, and he stares at you for a moment, eyes hazy with lust. Then, he’s pulling your pussy all the way up to his nose. The feel of him so close to your puffy lips has you clenching, even more so when he lowers his head and fucking sniffs you.
“Fuck, baby. Been dreaming of this since the minute I saw you. Smells so fuckin’ sweet.” Logan inhales deeply again, smattering messy, open mouthed kisses to the skin of your upper thigh. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to throw you over my shoulder, get you alone and eat this pussy.”
“Logan!” You whimper out. The sound is completely feeble but you couldn’t care less, not with the way he’s sucking bruises into your skin. “Please, please.”
Spurred on by your whines, he sinks his canines into the skin, where your thigh meets the lips of your core.
Pain simmers into pleasure as the sting is followed by his tongue. Rosy splotches decorate your upper thighs, a preview of the bruises that will glaze the skin tomorrow. Logan does this until he’s satisfied with how his teeth imprint the skin. It’s as if it’s his way of solidifying that you’re his, like he’s staking his claim with his bruises smattering your thighs.
At some point your hand finds purchase in his hair, pawing at the tufts and tugging his face closer to where you need him most. He groans, the pain at his scalp sending jolts of desire throughout his body.
He sneaks a look up at you, and shit, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your head is thrown back, sending those rebellious, red strands fluttering around you. Your hips are canting up to his mouth, and the smell of you, mixed with the previous orgasm you’d worked out before he interrupted, sends his senses in overdrive.
He knows he’d tortured you both enough when you can’t stop shivering with need, when his own hips brush against the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Logan licks a long, wet stripe up your clothed pussy, suctioning around your enlarged clit.
The taste of you, heady, sweet, and so distinctly you, floods his tongue. He knew you’d taste good, but this? Oh, he wanted to drink you up all hours of the day.
With a growl, Logan tuggs the lace aside and loses it. He sucks, licks, and mouthed at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue dips into your hole before licking up and down your slit.
Moans of his name sound around the walls of your room, along with the filthy noise of his lips sucking your swollen button.
You’ve never felt like this before; the way he’s eating you out has your entire body on fire, and if you could see yourself, you’d see how ruby colored lines swirl all around your hands, how your hair practically glows with the intensity of your feelings.
He’d been attracted to you the minute he saw you— but the way you look when your mutation is at work? The way your hair grows shades of intoxicating reds and the way the fiery energy glows from the tips of your fingers to your elbows? Oh, how it fucking wrecks him. He just wants to keep you captive in this bedroom for all of eternity, if only to see you like this all the time.
“Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess, hands tugging Logan’s hair hard, resulting in a moan that vibrates your pussy.
“Mine.” He grunts, and you gasp at the sensation of saliva as he spits directly onto your clit. “My fuckin’ pussy.”
Then, he latches his soft lips around your puffy bud and sucks hard. His dirty words and lucious mouth have your thighs shivering, hips bucking with insatiable need.
Like you’d done when you were alone and thinking about him, whimpers of ‘Logan’ slip past bitten lips as you rut against his face.
“That’s it, baby, say my name. Taste so fuckin’ good.” He humms against the slick, swell of your pussy.
A stream of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ is audible from open lips, forming an ‘o’ as the rush of delicious, hot pleasure pours over you completely.
As you come down, the pleasure fizzles out and overwhelming bursts of overstimulation bubble over you. Logan continues to lap at your wetness, groaning at your taste.
“S’too much, Logan.” Shaky hands grip his brown locks and you try and fail to bring the man away from your throbbing hole. His tongue laps at the taste of you, dipping in as deep as he could to savor every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”
“Taste too fuckin’ sweet, baby. Can’t help it.”
Logan grips tightly at your thighs, cruelly pinching at the flesh as he devours your pretty clit.
He can’t get enough, and seemingly, neither can you, with the way you buck into his warm, slick mouth despite the crushing pleasure. The material of your underwear snaps against you as Logan’s grip loosens, but he still eats you out as though there was no barrier.
His soft lips and dangerous tongue make it difficult to do anything but take the mind-numbing pleasure.
He’s content to stay here; between your gorgeous thighs and ravage your cunt all night, pull orgasms from you until you forget everything except the syllables that make up his name.
Except, the words that come from you have him still against you, his cock jerking and responding immediately to the addictive tilt of your voice.
“Logan— Logan, wanna suck your cock. Please.”
It was as though you were made for him— every inch of you riles him up like no one else has before and he has to take a deep, deep breath to refrain from coming in his jeans like a damn virgin.
With one last lick up your lace covered cunt, his face is suddenly above yours, the sight is lethal. The entirety of his lower face wears your wetness with pride, glistening and gleaming in the lowlight of the room. His eyes look animalistic, the hazel taken over by the black of dilated pupils.
Logan looks at you like he wants to fucking destroy you. You know without a doubt you’d let him.
A sweet kiss is pressed against your lips, a warm caress of his tongue on yours, the musky taste of your pussy causing you to part your thighs further. You whine once more, because you crave the heady taste of his cock; your mouth salivates at the thought of his tip heavy on your tongue.
“Easy, honey. Can smell how bad you want it.”
If you were less intoxicated by lust, you’d be mortified at the knowledge Logan can smell your arousal right now.
“Logan.” Pathetic whimpers and moans against his mouth have him pulling back, gritting his teeth to force himself to get a grip. It doesn’t work, not with the way you’re spread out below him, face pretty with a tiny that vaguely mimics the hue of your top and panties.”Please.”
How is he meant to last when you sound like that? All fucked out from just his tongue alone?
“C’mere’.” Logan mutters, tugging your body all the way up his chest, maneuvering you until your pussy is hovering above his mouth, facing his cock.
Completely fucked out, saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of his bulge, massive even in the confines of jeans.
You’re confused as to why Logan has put you on his chest, but it makes sense when he pulls your thighs down, mouth finding your wet, sopping sex once more.
You cry out, hips jolting at the way his tongue push the fabric away from your puffiness, immediately wrapping around your clit. At the way you were shaking on his face, unmoving besides the subtle thrusts of hips, he stops.
“Lo—“
“Go on then, baby. Suck my cock, just like you wanted.”
And oh, you both feel the slick that follows after those rasped words fill the air.
Only once you undo that damn belt buckle and pull both his jeans and boxers down, just enough to see the way his cock bounced out, wet at the red, swollen tip, does Logan resume licking up your pussy.
Fueled by the return of those talented lips, you lean forward without another thought.
Licking from base to tip, a moan vibrates against his cock as you hum, a taste so distinctly Logan making you feel light and warm. You lick up and down him sloppy, spitting on the tip of him as you slick his dick up, before finally wrapping your lips around him.
“Fuck.” His growl is borderning on feral; his teeth finding purchase on your asscheek and biting, an attempt to ground himself. It only serves to have his hips jump at the feel of you whining on him, sucking him down so fucking good. “Fuck, knew you’d be good with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”
He’s so focused on the way you’ve started bobbing up and down the length of him, overcome with euphoria at the warmth and wetness as you suck and swirl your tongue, that he’s stopped his attention to your pussy, something he’s only reminded of as you wiggle impatiently over him.
“Sorry, princess, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy.” He grits out, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs at the little ‘hmph!’ you let out, pulling off his cock.
Though he can’t see you, he knows there’s a string of spit that spans from your swollen lips to his pulsating cock. He shutters, overwhelmed by you entirely, before burying his face into your weepy cunt.
”Oh! Logan, feels so good!” With a pathetic little whimper, his cock fills your mouth again as you sink down, satisfied with the way his tongue is licking at you.
A blend of moans sound as he wraps his lips around your puffed clit, as you ease his cock into your throat.
Logan’s eating you out in a frenzy, crazed by the tang of you soaking his mouth, chin, and nose. Despite the warmth bubbling in his stomach, he’s determined to make you come on his tongue again.
When thick fingers nudge into your hole unexpectedly, you mewl at the blissful feeling.
Logan’s fingers work steadily inside you in tandem with the way his mouth suckles divinely at your button. You’re an absolute mess— grinding down on his face, riding his digits, gagging as Logan’s hips match the pace of his fingers, grunts vibrating against you as he fucks your throat.
Logan curls his fingers in a way that has you seeing every fucking color of the rainbow. You come, moaning around the base of his cock and rocking back and forth on his fingers and mouth, muffled sobs spilling from your stuffed mouth.
When he feels you shivering on his tongue, overstimulated and sensitive, he pulls away from your center, the soaked fabric of your panties falling back into place once more.
Your mouth is still full of him, lips lazily sucking him down as your body tries to get ahold of the white hot pleasure still coursing through you.
“C’mere, baby.”
It’s a soft whisper against your thigh, but it settles over you, his soothing voice swirling around your shaky body like a warm blanket. Letting his cock fall from your lips, you scramble as fast as your body allows before you find yourself straddling Logan, staring down at the man with cloudy, wet eyes.
And maybe Logan is sick— because the sight of tears spilling over your cheeks has his cock unbelievably hard, a growl threatening to tumble out at the way your pretty, crimson hair spills over your shoulders.
Still, he wants to make sure you’re okay.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Logan watches at the way a small smile graces your features, even as tears continue to glisten your lash line. “You okay?”
“Nothing's wrong, just feel so good.” Your voice is a little hoarse, no doubt from the way his dick was fucking your whiny mouth. Your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, those few words going straight to his dick.
Logan feels his own lips tug upwards as you speak. Even though he’s fucked you silly and stolen two orgasms, he tenses with desire as he notes the want dancing in your irises.
“Good.”
“Mhmm.”
There’s a beat of silence, a moment where hungry eyes lock in on one another, sensual energy threatening to burst.
Then, in a flash, lips are locked and tongues whirl together familiarly. It’s a hot, lewd kiss filled to the brim with desire— the passion almost too much with how it lights up every inch of your bodies, a fire threatening to spread.
Neither of you are sure who moved first— but it doesn’t matter because the way Logan’s hand wraps around your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip, steals your attention.
If someone were to see the two of you, they would see how desperate and needy you both were.
You’re kissing Logan’s top lip, biting before soothing the sting with a sweet, soft suck. Your thighs are spread over his own entirely and your position has your cunt settling over his cock nicely. Logan’s free hand grips the skin of your ass tight, guiding as you grind against him, the soaked panties catching on the tip of him with each thrust. The fingers tangled in your hair are unforgiving, tugging harshly as Logan grunts into your open mouth.
You’re both a mess of passion and lust— and your body thrums with the idea of his cock inside you.
“Such a good girl, that’s it. Fuck—“ Logan nearly whines, the feel of your wetness on his bulge has him trapping your lips in another all consuming kiss.
Your hands, lit up with energy, find purchase in his pretty hair, yanking as he kisses you vulgar, because everything is somehow too much and not enough.
“Logan— need you. Need you so bad, baby.”
Logan wants to eat you up entirely— somehow you’re still not satiated, rubbing your slick all over his lap and begging him for more. If he was a better man, he would’ve fucked you already. As it is, he likes it a little too much hearing you beg for him.
“Shhh, you got me, honey. I’m right here.”
“Fuck me, please. Need you inside, Logan.”
There’s tears in your eyes again, ready to spill over if the ache between your thighs isn’t soothed in the next five minutes. You’re clinging to him, hips stuttering because it’s just not enough and you both know it.
“My poor baby.” He sighs, the words somehow a mix of condescending and genuine and it makes you cry out. “So needy, huh?”
“Just for you.” The way you say it, it’s a message you both understand— you need him in every way possible, not just sexually.
He wonders if you know just how badly he needs you, especially now that he’s got a taste of you.
“I’m yours—“ you start, but it’s cut off by the squeak you emit when you’re suddenly flipped over, Logan’s muscular form hovering over you, his dog tags swinging between you.
“You’re mine.” It’s not a question, but a statement and it sends a thrill over you.
“Yours.” You’re nodding, eyes wide and so fucking pretty that it makes Logan squeeze his hands, the metal of his claws threatening to break through the skin.
He pulls his shirt off then, pride filling his chest at the way your eyes glaze over, a lip taken between your teeth as you stare at the vein that leads to his cock, which is pulsing with the promise of release.
He doesn’t comment on your lustful eyes, instead tracing his fingers down your body, until he reaches the hem of your baby pink lace. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination but Logan might break something if he doesn’t see your tits in all their glory.
You get the message, leaning up and slowly pulling the fabric from your chest, your breasts and midsection on full display. If he hadn’t already eaten you out twice, you would’ve moved to cover your taut nipples. Instead, you grip the chain of his necklace and pull him back down with you, sighing when you’re chest to chest.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He says, pecking your lips once, licking a stripe down your throat. Wetness coats both nipples as his tongue swirls over them. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have you under me?”
You moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades at the fluttery feeling his lips bring, deep enough to elicit blood from his skin. Logan groans, head tipping back as his hips thrust down suddenly, the tip of his cock ramming into your clit.
“Fuck, Logan.” Your hands span the expanse of his back, scratching each time he bumps your button just right. His jeans are still on, resting just below his thighs and something about the way he couldn’t even get up to properly take them off makes you shudder.
He’s rutting against you now, dick rubbing filthy over your panties and it dawns on you then that he hasn’t come yet, too preoccupied with taking care of you.
Determined, you slide one hand onto his asscheek, pushing him further into you, while your other grips his chin, pulling his mouth to yours in a slick, open-mouth kiss.
“C’mon Logan, fuck me, please.”
Logan turns into something animalistic then— flipping you over without warning, caging you between his arms. Your gasp is audible as he yanks your wet lace to the side, before thrusting forward, and fucks his cock into you with one thrust.
“Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—“ the feel of Logan finally inside you had you absolutely fucking drunk on the feel of him.
“Tryin’ to, baby.” He grits, arms flexing beside your head, fingers intertwining with yours as he sinks into you, inch by inch, until you were filled to the brim.
Logan’s body covers yours, lips pressing all over your shoulder blades to soothe the little whines you let out at how fucking full you felt. It’s everything you want and more— you want to memorize the feel of him, every ridge and vein as he bottoms out.
“Baby,” he grunts, fingers flexing with yours as he stays still, for your sake. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ wet.”
And it was true— despite the fact that he’s huge, he slipped in easily because of the mess you created, a slick mix of your come and desire that seeps from you.
“Logan, fuck me, please.” You ask so sweetly, as if you weren’t impaled by his cock right now.
With that, he slips out of you slowly, before fucking into you hard, deep. Then, he fucking ravishes you— creating a steady, fast paced rhythm and fucking you dumb with his cock.
You’re a whiny mess. Your hair grows darker, hands glittering between his grip each time he slams into you, each time your cunt squeezes around him.
Completely cock drunk, your back arches, ass up and hips slamming back against his with your cheek pressing into the mattress as you sob.
You’re so fucking needy that his own thighs are wet with your desire— he growls at the sight, fucking you even faster.
“You’re mine. Have been since you came here.” Logan growled, releasing your fingers in favor of gripping your hair and pulling you up until you were pressed into his chest. “My fuckin’ girl.”
“Yours!” You cry, tears rolling down your face. Your entire body jolts with pleasure, and you feel like you couldn’t breathe, not with how euphoria threatens to smother you. “M’so close!”
“I know, honey, I know. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ around me.“ Logan moans out, pushing you back down into the mattress and finding purchase on your hips, pulling you back hard. “Gonna come all over me?”
You don’t answer, instead crying out as you feel a sharp flash of pain on your asscheek, Logan’s hand swift and quick. The pain mixes into pleasure when he rubs at the red skin, pressing sweet kisses on your back.
He wishes you could see yourself right now; maybe then you would understand why he was so intoxicated by you.
Your pretty body is bent over, ass up and face in the sheets as whimpers seep out. The lace that drove him crazy is yanked to the side, grazing his cock each time he drove deeper inside you. You’re so beautiful like this, he wants to keep you forever.
Sweet, little ‘uh,uh’s’ fill Logan’s ears as he speeds up, pulling you back up once more against his chest. He wants to be as close as fucking possible, the feel of your skin on his almost searing.
You turn your head back, lips seeking out his own. He kisses you, sucking at your lips as he continues to fuck you vigorously.
The fluttery feeling of your cunt squeezing around him suddenly sends him over the edge— low groans falling in your open mouth as hot, searing spurts of come coat your walls.
Knowing that Logan had lost it, finally giving into the temptation like you’d been doing all night, has you whining as your own orgasm surrounds your entire being.
“Baby—“ Logan thrusts shallowly, riding your orgasms out as long as he could; if he could, he’d never leave this feeling behind. Seemingly, you agreed as your nails dig into his forearms that hold you up, eyes squeezing shut at the overpowering bliss tingling everywhere. “I got you, it’s okay.”
“Logan, fuck!” It comes out as a huff, head against his sweaty neck, body completely limp in his hold.
You’d never been so incredibly sex-dazed in your life. From this moment onward, Logan has ruined you for anyone else.
Though, you hope there isn’t anyone else.
Logan kisses your head before untangling from you; a smirk dancing across his usually gruff features at the little whine let out as he pulls out. He gently rolls you onto your back, laying your head tenderly on the pillows. It was such a stark difference to the rough way he’d fucked you minutes prior, but butterflies flutter around your stomach all the same.
You watch his eyes trail lower, landing on the mess between your thighs.
Logan is mesmerized by the sight; your pussy is destroyed , so wet with his come seeping out of your hole. Mindlessly, he lowers himself until heieye level with your sex. Sans any warning, his fingers are thrusted back inside.
He ignores your hiss in favor of trying to push his come back inside, to keep you full of him. His eyes meet yours, watching as your chest rises as you observe him. There’s a glint in your eye that has his heart stuttering.
“I want to kiss you.” You whisper, soft and a little bashful, as if he didn’t have his fingers inside you. You look too fucking perfect, hair returning to its original color, eyes cloudy with unspoken words, a smile gracing your face.
How could he deny you when you looked like that?
Logan kisses your clit once, enjoying the way you jump before removing his fingers.
With those same digits, he sticks them in his mouth, sucking the flavor of you both and humming. He could hear the way your heart picked up at his actions. He releases them with a loud ‘pop’, before finally coming back to you.
He hovers over you, and like you’d done earlier, soft hands pull at the chain until his lips melt with yours in a soft kiss. Logan pulls back, resting his head on yours, eyes connecting with yours.
“Hi.” You giggle then, nose bumping his in the proximity.
“Hi, baby.” Logan kisses your lips once more, before rolling beside you. You would’ve whined at him if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you onto his chest.
With your limbs tangled, a kiss pressed to your forehead, you think this could be heaven and if so, you never wanted to leave.
It was quiet for a moment— the two of you content to listen to one another’s heartbeat, the breaths that fall from lips. Then, you break the silence, because of course you do.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to take me out before you get me like this again.” You mutter against his slick chest, where your head rests as you wrap yourself around the man like a koala.
A deep laugh fills the room, chest rumbling because what the fuck?
He’s fucked you, with his mouth and cock, and now you’re laying on him as his come seeps out of you and you’re demanding him to take you out?
He was going to in the first place, but he thinks it’s cute you decided for him.
Logan may be a man that’s been alive for almost two centuries, practically immortal, but it’s completely possible you’ll be the death of him.
˚。⋆⟡♡⟡⋆。˚ fin
tags: @strangererotica @cevansbaby-dove @morganyourone @asiancupid
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plutotheplum · 4 months ago
Text
A Lust for Love
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sylus x fem!reader - part 2 to resonance
summary: ever since you've left the N109 zone, you find yourself missing a certain white-haired man.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, masturbation, oral sex - m!receiving, p in v, light spanking, dirty talk, possessiveness, praise kink, inappropriate video, size mentions
wc: 5.7k
a/n: the amount of times sylus kept autocorrecting to stylus has actually driven me insane. also, this could work as a standalone (i think)... thank you for reading! <3
also on ao3!
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It’s been a month since you’ve left the N109 Zone. 
You had settled back into your old routine easily enough. Jenna had kept you busy, sending you out on mission after mission. However, Wanderer incidents had become relatively stable over the past few weeks, so much so that you were hardly fighting them. Your time had been taken up by training instead, spent out at either the facilities provided by the Hunter Association. 
Life had become so mundane as of late that you found yourself missing the thrill of the N109 Zone. It had kept you on your toes, challenged you and the investigative work had been far more rewarding, not to mention you had managed to retrieve the Aether Core’s other half, which was now safely hidden in your possession. To your chagrin, the modified protocore hadn’t done anything special. You had tried experimenting on it with your Evol, but all that was left was a dull shine. 
There was also another reason you were missing the N109 Zone though. That reason came in the form of a white-haired man with crimson eyes. Sylus. You couldn’t believe you were actually thinking it, but you were starting to miss the bastard. The lack of his stupid remarks and untimely jabs were starting to make you feel lonely. This was without mentioning that night of pleasure, of course.
No one had ever touched you like that. You still remember the way he had whispered filth into your ears, the way he had fucked into you without abandon. You had barely been able to keep up with him the next day at training. Stumbling like a fawn, your legs had been shaking so badly that the shopkeeper had grown concerned that your bones were experiencing some sort of unknown, sudden-onset deteriorating disease. Sylus had merely brushed it off, explaining that you had eaten something bad. The smug smile he’d sent behind the shopkeeper’s back had made your eye twitch. 
He hadn’t rewarded you like he had said though. His work had kept him busy, and it was Luke and Kieran that were coming around to keep you company for the remainder of your stay. The twins were definitely a strange pair, but they were sort of cute in a way, and you found that their bickering was reminiscent of the relationship between you and Caleb. 
Mephisto had also taken to accompanying you throughout the base. You weren’t exactly sure what the mechanical bird ate, but after a few little pets and scratches you felt as though it was warming up to you. 
Unfortunately for you, Sylus had left an indelible mark on both your mind and your body. It was probably the reason you were in this very predicament, with your hand stuffed down your shorts in the middle of the night.
You’d been trying to get off for a while now, but no matter how many times you rubbed your clit or tried fingering yourself, you could not get yourself to come. Your fingers couldn’t mimic the way Sylus had fingered you, couldn’t reach as deep inside of you. There’s an irritated grumble leaving you as you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a muffled scream into your pillow.
Taking in another deep breath, you’re deciding to give it another go. The pads of your fingers circle against your aching clit and you’re letting out a soft sigh, lashes fluttering. You imagine Sylus touching you, his lips against your skin as he rocks his hips into you. Wetness begins to leak out and you're biting your lip, letting out a low whine into the quietness of the night. Pleasure begins to coil inside your lower stomach and there’s more whines escaping you, fingers rubbing faster against your clit. You can feel the tension in your body beginning to build, back arching as you remember the way Sylus had spoken to you that night. 
“Please, please,” you’re begging out into the empty room, brows furrowing when the pleasure suddenly stalls and your chances of reaching an orgasm fade “no, please- fuck! ” 
You try and rub a little faster but it’s completely gone, your wrist aching with how long you’ve been at it. Tugging your hand out of your shorts, you stare at it as though it were a traitor. 
There’s frustration etched across your face, your cheek squishing against the pillow as you stare at the wall sullenly. Stupid Sylus with his stupid face and his stupid fingers and stupidly addictive cock. The man had completely ruined your ability to masturbate. 
At your wits end, you decide to give it one last try. You’re desperate, horny and utterly stressed. Just as you’ve managed to slip your hand down your sleep shorts again, your phone begins to ring.
You squeeze your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut to prevent the scream that wants to escape. It wouldn’t do you any good to get complaints from your neighbors. Grabbing at your phone blindly, you hit the accept button.
“Hello?” you mumble into the phone.
“Stop squirming around in bed, it’s making Mephisto uncomfortable.”
You shoot up when you hear the voice on the other end of the line.
“Sylus?” your voice is a hiss, eyes darting towards the window.
Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment when you see Mephisto sitting on the railing of your balcony, his little crow head tilted as he stares at you. A wince escapes you at the thought of the crow watching your pathetic attempts to get off and it has you mouthing a silent apology towards the bird. 
Mephisto only lets out an indignant caw , turning his beak to the side haughtily.
You groan, flopping back down onto the bed.
“How are you able to see me right now?” you ask, brows furrowing.
“Look outside,” Sylus replies.
You stumble onto your feet, staring out into the darkened surroundings. Eyes squinting, your face presses against the glass, eyes catching on a camera attached to a street light. Oddly enough, the camera tilts towards you. You tilt your head to the other side and it mimics you. 
So he was keeping tabs on you. Creepy, but also a little comforting.
“It’s been a long time,” you murmur, staring out of the window again.
Mephisto’s begun to groom his feathers.
“Do you miss me?” he asks.
You can hear the creak of his chair as he leans back in it.
“No,” you retort, a frown settling on your face. An outright admission of your feelings would be confessing that you would be warming up to him. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction, especially not when he had more or less ignored you for a month. 
“Liar,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “in fact, it seems as though my favorite little Hunter is struggling to sleep.”
His favorite little Hunter. The idea of being anyone’s favorite, much less Sylus’s has your heart fluttering wildly. He had been thinking about you then. There’s a darker part of you that hopes Sylus has been having the same problems as you. It would serve him right, after all.
Sylus sighs into the phone, “I did warn you,” he murmurs, “I told you I wouldn’t be there to please you when you were feeling needy.”
“I- I am not feeling needy!” you respond, voice pitching as you protest against his observation.
“Another lie,” he clicks his tongue and you hear more rustling on the other end of the line, “is it your plan to keep lying for the duration of this call, my dear Hunter? Hm?” 
His taunt has you gritting your teeth, until all your frustrations come pouring out.
“You’ve stolen my ability to orgasm!” you snap into the phone, your tone accusing.
“My, my,” Sylus drawls, “how bold you’ve become, hissing at me like a little kitten.” 
“It’s not funny, Sylus” you say, anger replaced by a sense of gloom “ever- ever since that night, I haven’t been able to come at all.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. You don’t think he was expecting you to actually be honest. There’s a soft sigh escaping you, eyes slipping shut. You can hear the sound of him breathing, then an odd clinking noise.
“I have to go,” he says suddenly and the line cuts off.
You scoff, looking at your phone screen to see that he has in fact ended the call. What an asshole. You had just confided in him about your intimacy issues and the man had left you high and dry. A frown settles on your face and you almost feel hurt by his sudden change in behavior. Perhaps you shouldn’t have expected more from the leader of Onychinus. 
There’s a tapping noise against the glass of the window. Mephisto lets out another little caw , his wings fluttering for a bit as though waving goodbye. You lift your own hand, giving him a wave and watch as he flies out into the night. Just like that, you were all alone again.
You sigh, crawling back into bed with a pout on your face. The blankets are tugged up over your body, eyes slipping shut as you try to fall asleep. It doesn’t come easily, your efforts upended when your phone lights up.
Tapping across the screen, the messages between you and Sylus pop up. He’s sent you a video. 
Deciding to press play, your throat dries when you see what he’s sent you. His thighs are spread slightly, belt undone as he palms himself through his trousers. You nearly whimper at the sight, moving the phone closer to your face. The bulge of his cock is clear, making his trousers look uncomfortably tight.
You understand why he ended the call so quickly now. Sylus was trying to help alleviate the frustration caused by your little problem. You can hear Sylus let out a low groan and you’re biting your lip, letting your thighs squeeze together.
He palms himself a few more times before he’s dragging down the zip of his trousers. His chair creaks as he lifts his hips and you’re letting out a whimper into the air when you see his hard length in his boxers.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmurs, palming himself a little more before he’s pulling down his boxers as well.
Arousal is pooling between your thighs and your pussy begins to ache. Drool collects in your mouth at the sight of his uncovered cock. It’s just as thick as you remember, his tip just as dark from that night. 
Sylus lets out another groan, his hand wrapping around his cock. You can’t wait any longer, your hand shoving itself back down into your shorts. The stickiness of your arousal is welcome, and you’re letting out a whine, fingers circling your clit.
You can see him squeeze as his knuckles tighten before his hand is dragging up and down, stroking his cock at a lazy pace. His breaths are heavy and he’s shifting again, his thighs spreading a little more as he gets comfortable.
“Work has been terribly stressful,” Sylus says, his wrist rotating as he jerks himself off, “I imagine you’d need the relief too. My fat cock in your mouth, you could just keep it on your tongue, get lost in the haze. Would you like that, sweetie?”
You’re nodding at the phone even though he can’t see you. Your fingers are rubbing at your clit desperately, whining into your pillows as he strokes himself for you.
Sylus lets out a low grunt, his hand moving faster. It’s an enthralling watch. His pretty fingers wrapped around himself, the tufts of white hair at the base of his cock and the little telltale twitches of his thighs. 
“Such a shame you aren’t here,” he sighs and your noises are growing more frequent, feeling the ache in your cunt fade as pleasure builds, “I could’ve taken you here on my desk, given you some of those kisses that you so desperately crave.”
Your body is flushed, sweat beginning to cover your skin as your hips roll, grinding your pussy against your fingers.
“Ah fuck ,” he whispers, squeezing around his cock a little tighter. Pre-cum has begun to drip from his cock steadily and you want to somehow teleport through the screen so you can lick it up for him, feel the taste of him on your tongue. 
You rub faster, moaning when he zooms in so you can see the fat tip of his cock wet with his cum.
He grunts, his hand twisting around his length. You can see his thighs twitch a little more and your own orgasm is building like never before.
“Come with me, baby” he encourages, his cock twitching in his grasp.
There’s a moan of his name and you’re coming on your fingers, thighs twitching uncontrollably as your orgasm hits. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, a mewl leaving your lips when his cock jerks, thick cum spurting out of his tip. He sighs, letting go of his cock, allowing it to slap against his abdomen, cum smearing across his skin. 
You can hear his deep laugh and he’s moving the camera so you can get a better look at his spent cock.
“Sleep well, Miss Hunter.”
The video ends. You’re panting softly, staring up at the ceiling. You can hardly believe he’d done that.
Deciding to give him a little gift of your own, the bedside lamp flicks on and you're squirming out of your shorts, moving your camera between your thighs so you can snap a picture of the aftermath. The image is a bit blurry, but you’re too tired, sending it off to him anyways. It seems an orgasm was what you needed, your eyes drooping shut as you sink into a slumber.
A few hours pass and you’re stifling hot. You don’t remember your blankets wrapping around you so tightly or your face pressing into a hard pillow. Still under the spell of sleep, you squirm around, letting out a sleepy grumble. It’s so hot .
When the heat doesn’t cease, your brows are pulling together, bleary eyes making your vision fuzzy. It’s still dark outside from what you can tell. You try to move, but something is keeping you in place. Your skin prickles, breath coming out in short little gasps. A scream tears out of your throat when you see a man’s figure on your bed. There’s a bit of flailing and your leg is kicking out, landing a blow to the man’s stomach. You kick him again and he’s letting out a pained grunt, falling off your bed with a loud thump . Scrabbling for your gun, your finger hooks around the trigger, aiming it at the man as he stands up.
There’s no time to shoot, red and black vines swirling across your arms and jerking your gun away from you.
Oh.
You rub at your eyes a little more to see Sylus standing there, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 
He examines your gun, shaking his head when he realizes it’s not even loaded.
“Your reaction time is poor,” he says, tossing your gun onto the bedside table.
“What- what are you even doing here?” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I thought it was obvious,” Sylus replies, laying back down on your bed. 
He stares back at you, smirking when you don’t come to lay down with him. He uses his Evol, the tendrils lifting you in the air and laying you down gently.
You feel his arms wrapping around you, tugging you back into the warmth of his chest.
“You enjoyed my little show,” he whispers, his fingers running through your hair absentmindedly.
“I did,” you admit, peering up at him.
He stares back at you, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You feel his thumb smoothing over your skin and the action is so soothing that it has your eyes fluttering shut. 
“I never said you could break into my apartment though,” you say.
“Such a minor detail,” he sighs, a smile on his face, “you ought to be more grateful that I’m here. I am a busy man after all.”
“Too busy,” you mutter under your breath.
“Oh? How telling, darling” he grins at you devilishly. 
You shoot him an unimpressed look, turning so that your back is to him.
“If I had known you were going to be so difficult, I would’ve brought you something,” he says, his hand squeezing your hip. 
You don’t respond. He’s letting out another sigh, his Evol activating as he turns you back towards him.
“Must you always be so stubborn?” he whispers.
You get lost in his eyes and his hand cups your cheek again as he lowers his head towards yours.
“I’ve missed you,” he confesses, his lips brushing over yours. 
Your cheeks flush. You weren’t exactly expecting him to confess that he had been missing you. It appeared as though you were both entering dangerous territory. Festering feelings only led to a convoluted mind. 
There’s a smirk on his face and you can feel him plant a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Aren’t you going to return my affection?” he asks, his nose nudging against yours, “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”
You’re too stubborn to respond and he huffs out a laugh, eyes glimmering with mirth.
“Very well,” Sylus says, “I suppose I’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”
His lips are on yours in an instant. This kiss isn’t rushed like when you had first kissed, languid instead of rough. The soft sounds of your lips smacking together fills the room and Sylus can’t keep his hands off of you, his palms smoothing over your waist and hips, squeezing at the fat he can grab.
Sylus is pulling away, sitting up so his back is against the headboard of your bed. He offers you his hand and you take it, letting him pull you towards him. You settle onto his lap, straddling him, thighs on either side of his hips. He’s kissing you again and it’s you that’s cupping his cheek, guiding him. 
He groans into your mouth and you whine back, arms looping around his neck. There’s spit leaking out from the sides of your mouths with how passionate the kisses have become. Sylus licks into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours. Your hips are beginning to rock, gasping into his mouth when you feel his hardness between your thighs. The fact that you have this much of an effect has you smiling against his lips.
“Something funny?” he asks, peering down at you.
You shake your head, your thumb swiping over his lips gently, “I just didn’t expect you to be so… affected by me.”
“Perhaps you aren’t aware of your own allure then,” he says, head dipping down to kiss you again.
You turn your head however, and his lips end up landing against your cheek. He tries to kiss you again and you deny him, sucking in a deep breath to gather your wavering confidence.
“I want you in my mouth,” you whisper, staring up into his eyes.
There’s a smirk spreading across his face at your admission.
“Don’t laugh!” you whine, smacking his chest.
“It appears I may be a bad influence,” he says, his thumb stroking over your jaw, “or perhaps I am yet to discover the depths of your depravity.”
He’s leaning forward, grip tightening on your chin to give you a kiss that you can’t escape.
“Go on then,” Sylus says, letting go of you.
You move off of his lap, settling between his spread thighs. Your hungry eyes take in the bulge under the fabric of his sweatpants, a small smile spreading across your face.
Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his clothed cock. It twitches under your lips and you hum softly, fingers pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock.
You let out a sigh when his cock springs out, your hand reaching for it greedily. The throb of his cock is hard to ignore, and you’re sneaking a glance up at Sylus.
He’s staring at you, his eyes dark. You can feel his fingers spread across your scalp, threading into your hair. It has you leaning forward, your eyes on his as you kiss the tip of his fat cock gently.
Sylus shudders, biting his lip. You frown when he doesn’t make any noises. Renewing your efforts, your hand squeezes a little tighter, eyes catching on the way pre-cum gathers at the tip.
It has your mouth opening eagerly, tongue lapping up his arousal. The taste only has you addicted, mouth enveloping the head of his cock.
Sylus groans, his hand tightening in your hair.
“I think you have missed me,” he says through gritted teeth.
You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as you sink your mouth down on him further. His cock is so thick your mouth has already stretched out, struggling to keep your teeth from grazing against his sensitive skin. 
“Keep going, baby” he murmurs, his hand guiding your movements. You can’t fit him into your mouth, not entirely, so it has your hand stroking around the length you can’t reach.
Sylus begins to guide your head, letting your mouth slide up and down his cock as you swirl your tongue. His head is falling back, and you whine when you see the bob of his adam’s apple.
Your mouth suckles harder against the blushed head of his cock, more pre-cum filling your mouth. You swallow it down eagerly, making a soft noise at the taste. Pulling off, you press some more sticky kisses against the tip of his cock and you smile when Sylus nearly whines. 
His cheeks are pink when you look up at him, his pupils dilated with lust. 
“I don’t take kindly to teasing,” he says hoarsely, his hand brushing yours away as he grasps the base of his cock. 
You pout up at him, annoyed that he had removed your hand. Even you don’t know the depths of your own lascivious nature as your head dips lower, mouth latching onto his fat balls.
You bite back a laugh when he grunts, your mouth opening as you suck one of them into your mouth. It feels so good and you’re moaning around it, pussy beginning to ache with want. Sylus strokes himself and you keep your eyes on his, tilting your head as you try and fit both of his balls into your mouth.
“How unbecoming of a Hunter,” he hisses, brows drawing in together as his gaze hardens, “do they know how filthy you are? Sucking my balls into your mouth like a whore .”
You whine, sucking harder around his balls. The taste of his skin has your head swimming, eyes slipping shut. It’s almost relieving, your mind taking solace at the fact that you don’t have to be in control. 
Pain stings across your scalp as Sylus tugs on your hair, pulling your head up. Almost immediately, your tongue is lolling out and he moans, smacking his cock against the pinkness of your tongue. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, “you look beautiful like this.”
You smile, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your stomach at his compliment, mouth wrapping around his cock again.
“Take it, baby” he continues, his hand pushing your head down slowly. He’s entirely too big, your eyes beginning to water with how far down your throat he is. 
You do your best, head bobbing until your nails are scratching down his thighs, leaving red welts as he pushes your head down fully, your nose hitting the tufts of hair at the base of his cock.
He pulls you up soon after, cooing at your watery eyes as you cough. 
“You’re too big,” you murmur, opting to place soft kisses along his length.
He hums, hand cupping your jaw.
“I could always train you.”
The utterance of such words has your breath hitching and he’s grinning at you, his head lowering as he kisses you sloppily. 
Sylus tugs you up, pulling you back onto his lap.
“Are you sure you didn’t miss me?” he asks, thumbs brushing away the tears that had wet your cheeks when you were swallowing around him.
You nod. His tone has you questioning your relationship with him however. There’s always a sense of softness underlying his actions, as though Sylus sees you for something more . 
He’s making a mess of your feelings, pulling you apart piece by piece and putting you back together the way he wants, pieces of his tenderness embedded within you, much like the Aether Core.
“A shame,” he murmurs, his eyes boring into yours.
You know he can see through your little facade. It’s why the next kiss he gives you is the most tender one yet. His lips work against yours gently, his hands cradling your head. There’s an unspoken promise held within it.
But there isn’t time to dwell on the feelings that are blooming in your heart. Time is sparse in a world like yours and you don’t know when you’ll see him again.
Sylus pats your hip and you’re squirming around, letting him pull off your shirt and shorts. He sighs when he sees your breasts, thumbs brushing the underside of them before he’s reaching for your nipples.
You whimper, head tipping back as he gropes at the fat of your tits. To distract yourself, your hand is slipping between the two of you, hand finding his hard cock. It wraps around him and you begin to stroke the throbbing length. 
Sylus lets out a low groan at the feeling of your soft hand caressing him. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks your nipple into your mouth. You gasp when he bites down gently, feeling the catch of his teeth on your sensitive skin. 
He pulls off of your breast with a pop , and you can hardly bare it anymore, pushing at his shoulders to rise up. Sylus watches with lust-lidded eyes as you grasp his cock, pressing it against where you need him most. He grips your hips, sending you a lazy grin.
“I must say I do enjoy having you on top of me,” he murmurs, his thumb finding your clit. 
You whimper, heat coursing through you as he rubs the little bud, his hand guiding you to sink down on him. You don’t think you could ever get used to the stretch of his cock, the way he sits snug inside of you, as though you were made for each other.
“ Fuck ,” you whimper, hands pressing against his chest, “you- you’re so big .”
“So you’ve said,” Sylus smiles, his hand squeezing your ass, “now indulge me. ”
You nod, hips rolling against his lap. He reaches for your hands, fingers lacing together, a feeling you had dearly missed. Peering up into his eyes, you squeeze his hands, a serene smile spreading across your face as your hips rise and fall. 
Sylus groans at the feeling of your skin slapping against his thighs with every bounce on his lap. The tip of his cock hits the sensitive spot deep inside of your cunt so deliciously that you’ve begun to drool, a cockdrunk giggle slipping out of you as you ride him.
The giggle morphs into a moan when he spanks your ass, your body jolting forward. Sylus’s touches have grown rougher, his hands squeezing almost painfully at your flesh.
“Tell me you miss me,” he hisses and you squeak when you feel him grip your hips, using you like a doll for pleasure when he plants his feet flat against your bed, his hips thrusting up so he can bury his cock in your hot pussy. 
“I don’t,” you hiccup, hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep up with the roughness of his movements.
Sylus growls and you feel like shrinking away when you see the glare on his face. He almost seems… desperate. You both understand what’s unfolding in this very moment. Desperation, validation, affection. He seeks it from you as though he were a tempest. 
His hand shoots out, gripping your cheeks. You can feel your lips jut out into a pout and he’s leaning forward kissing you messily. You whine, pressing yourself closer, tits squishing against his firm chest. His hips have never slowed, and you’re gasping into his mouth, hands slipping into his hair as he bounces you on his cock.
“Did it ever cross your mind that we may be bound to one another?” Sylus says, his words spoken against your lips.
“Bound?” you pant, your arm wrapping around his neck to support yourself as the burn in your thighs grows more intense.
“Bound,” he affirms, “the Aether Core. It ties me to you in a way that I cannot be tied to another. Perhaps-” he grunts when you slump against him, your hips swaying back to meet his thrusts so that your cunt can swallow his cock, “ perhaps you are my other half .”
The idea he’s proposing sounds absurd. It’s no less than implying the two of you are meant to be together. 
“Don’t- don’t be stupid, Sylus,” you say, feeling his lips leave stinging kisses across your sternum before finding your breast against, his mouth enveloping the mound. 
He nips the side of your breast in retaliation. 
“I am not stupid,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking against your nipple.
“You are ,” you protest, thighs squeezing tighter around his hips when his hand slips between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit again.
“I am not ,” he affirms, his forehead nudging against yours so he can stare deep into your eyes.
“I can see it,” Sylus says softly, his nose nuzzling yours, “I can see it in your eyes. The want, the longing . You have missed me.”
You open your mouth to protest but he’s drowning your voice out with a kiss. He swallows every word that threatens to come out, his cock driving deeper and deeper until you’re crying out.
“I missed you!” 
He lets out a laugh and you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassed expression. 
“No need to be so shy,” he whispers, “I may revel in the fact that you’ve missed me, but you’re forgetting about my own feelings.”
He grasps your hips, his pace slowing slightly, until you can feel his entire length press inside of you.
“No one else will ever feel this,” he whispers, strong arms wrapping around your waist, “no one else will ever be balls deep in this pretty, little cunt.”
You sink your teeth into his shoulder, moaning. 
“That’s it,” he coos, and the drag of his cock is too hard to ignore, your walls clenching around him tightly as though not wanting to let him go.
“ My pretty pussy,” he whispers against your ear “ my pretty, little Hunter. No one will ever have you.”
His possession has you shuddering, face pressing against his neck as you come around him. Sylus grits his teeth, the squelch of your cunt growing louder as your slick drips down his length, coating his balls.
“I only want you,” you whisper, cupping his cheek so you can kiss along his jaw, “I only want you so- so come for me .”
Sylus doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sweet. The lilt of your words, the softness of your voice. It has him groaning loudly, his hands pulling you down, making sure your pussy is flush against the base of his cock as he comes.
You can feel the warmth of his cum, the way his sticky release covers the insides of your pussy. Your lips find his and you kiss him slowly, sweetly as though confessing your own heart’s desire.
He rubs his hands against your back soon after, your head falling against his shoulder. His cock softens inside of you and wetness between your thighs is almost uncomfortable. 
Sylus lays you down and you whimper when his cock slips out of you. He grins at the sight of your trembling thighs, his lithe fingers spreading your folds to find the mess of both your releases leaking out of you. 
“A vision,” he murmurs, his fingers rubbing against your clit gently and you try to push his hand away, whimpering when the overstimulation has your entire body jolting. 
He ignores you, his other hand clasping yours as he caresses your pussy, playing with your folds before he’s lowering his head, placing soft kisses against your mound. Sylus licks up a long stripe, collecting both of your cum on his tongue before he’s pressing his lips against yours, feeding you the mix of essences.
You moan at the taste, squeezing his hand as you suck on his tongue sloppily. He smiles against your lips, pecking them gently before he’s drawing back.
Your body is utterly spent, eyes slipping shut. You can feel Sylus moving, feeling his lips against your cheek as he peppers fleeting kisses across your face while a warm cloth swipes between your sore thighs. 
Sylus tugs you into his chest and you press yourself closer, face burying itself into his chest. 
“I missed you,” you repeat, quieter this time. 
He hums, his hand stroking your hair soothingly as you both unwind.
“I know,” Sylus murmurs, tilting your head so he can press a kiss to your forehead.
You feel your heart swell at the affection and it has you peering up into his eyes. 
“Have I surprised you?” he asks, a smirk settling on his face.
“You always surprise me,” you breathe out, trying to meld your body against his.
He grins, arm slinging around your waist comfortably. 
“Will you stay?” you ask after a few moments, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
You watch as his eyes shut and it’s you that’s petting his hair this time, playing with the soft strands as he contemplates your question.
“For a few days,” he whispers, his hand finding yours.
Sylus intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hand closer to his mouth as he places reverent kisses across your knuckles.
It’s enough for now, you think, when he looks into your eyes. 
It’s enough for now because Sylus will always find his way back to you. 
Across the vast expanse of deep space, you will always be his.
4K notes · View notes
slttygeto · 11 months ago
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tags: pure filth, fem! reader, established relationship, use of a vibrator, squirting, dirty talk.
word count: 1k
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sex with suguru could only be described as unpredictable. sure, you were able to detect hints of lust thrown your way by the tall man, thick and rough pads of his fingers skimming over your smooth skin underneath your shirt as he passes behind you, hands gripping your sides and squeezing. your body reacts to his teasing and it’s easy to follow him to the bedroom. he feels in control, likes that sweet words and soft touches can make you end up on top of him, riding his dick like the sweet girl that you are.
however, when the two of you are…excessively needier than usual, sex can turn into something sort of animalistic. the carnal desire to devour one another, bring as many orgasms out of each other and the sounds—the sounds should embarrass both of you.
suguru doesn’t consider himself to be extremely vocal. he groans, moans and shows his appreciation for your ministration on his body but right now—his mouth won’t stop.
“yeah baby, yeaaah,” his words are straight up filth as he presses the vibrator to your clit. his pace is unforgiving, strong hips driving into yours with the force of a predator hunting. your hands are on the headboard, trying to protect your head from the contact but it’s all hazy.
“suguru!” you cry out, eyes staring down at where your boyfriend is pressing the pink vibrator against your clit. your legs try to close from the overstimulation, but a strong hand keeps them open and your head turns to the side with a loud cry.
“keep em open for me, fuck—don’t run away from it, I know you want it.”
your hand grips at the pillow beneath you whilst the other makes a failed attempt at gripping suguru’s forearm. choked sobs and whines are the only sounds you can manage as he starts rubbing the vibrator over your clit, your thighs shaking and twitching at the unbearable yet delicious stimulation.
“yeah? pussy wants a fat cock ruining her and a vibrator, a lil greedy, don’t ya think?”
as he says that, his free comes to your stomach and traces the skin with his thumb, very gentle at first and your brain feels like mush at the contrast between his brutal fucking, the vibrator and his gentle touch. but you should’ve known that suguru is the type to softly lead you into his territory, only to jump you the moment he notices that you let your guards down.
the hand on your stomach presses down and you hear several clicks on the pink device, and when your body jolts up—you realize that he set the level higher.
the gasp that escapes your body sounds inhuman, and your body tries to run away from suguru despite being caged between his strong thighs. he is fucking you with a purpose, needing to prove something—he towers over you and presses his forehead against yours.
“look at me, come on baby look up—theere she is,” he grins at your fucked out expression, half lidded eyes glossed over with tears that had already fallen a couple of minutes ago. “feels good, huh? should’ve done this sooner,” he leans down and kisses your pulse and then travels back up to your cheek and finally your ear.
when he starts fucking you at a different angle, your hands fly down to his hips and your nails dig into his skin. you can’t talk, you don’t trust yourself with words now—but suguru always thought you were like an open book to him. especially when naked and vulnerable beneath him.
“oh here?”
“fuck! fuck fuck fuck—“ you choke out a sob. “suguru—oh baby, I’m close, I’m so so close,” you’re blabbering, barely breathing and suguru’s self control is slowly dissipating. up until this point, he’s been able to control himself and not explode inside you. your cunt was squeezing him deliciously, your cries, the way you said his name or how you held onto him—suguru needed to cum inside you.
“yeah you are,” he breathes out, any hint of playfulness overshadowed by the sudden lust washing over him. his orgasm crept up on him fast, and he needed to make sure you fell over the edge first. “come on, I know you can cum for me,” he says while rubbing the vibrator over your clit.
when you finally cum, the added pressure of his hand on your stomach makes something snap in your stomach and you feel wet. you don’t have time to register, everything is like white noise for a while before your brain leisurely takes control again. your breathing slows down, yet your hands hold onto suguru’s shoulders as he throws the vibrator somewhere in the corner of your bedroom to grab onto your hips properly.
his eyebrows are pinched, a sheen layer of sweat coating his forehead as his bangs stick to the skin. he looks magical, even more so when you start to fuck up into him, help him reach his own orgasm.
“fuck baby—“
“mmm sugu,” you whine at how his dick keeps abusing that one spot inside you. “cum baby, please,” your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down into a hug. “fill me up, I want all of it,”
when being the one talked dirty to, suguru malfunctions. his brain short circuits and his body seizes up as he drops his head on your shoulder. he empties himself inside you with a few more stuttered thrusts, thick and hot ropes of cum serving as the reward of his hard and incessant fucking.
running your fingers through his hair, both of you take the time to catch your breath, enjoy the intimacy and the nakedness of it all. moments like these are precious, suguru’s body nuzzles against yours like a cat trying to live in your skin— and you giggle when his nose nuzzles against your pulse.
“ya liked the vibrator?” he mumbles against your skin.
“oh fuck—“ the realization hits you that were all messy from squirting on him. “I…came messy,” the shyness that washes over you, preventing you from saying “squirt” makes suguru laugh into your neck.
“you mean you squirted?”
“not the point!”
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note: another self indulgent piece. will i ever stop? no.
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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ilygetou · 1 year ago
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satoru eating you out through your panties <3
C/W: overstimulation, attempts of dirty talk, just satoru messily playing with your pussy from above your panties while also attempting to eat you out (๑˙ー˙๑).
NOTE. here’s the continuation/pt2 of this thirst.
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“relax...” he coos, his voice soft and gentle. Your legs were wrapped around his neck, your breath hitching every time he’d go in to lick your pussy from above your panties. Body squirming and eyes going hazy.
“satoru no, i–i...” your voice caught short once gojo started rubbing his fingers on your clit, “c’mon baby, wanna do the same thing you did to me,” he kept rubbing slow circles around your clit, your panties getting drenched with your slick, you stared back at gojo with droopy eyes, gripping his hair once he dived in to give your cunt a kiss.
Your panties were already so drenched which resulted into having your cunt visible from above the wet undergarments, the fabric was thin that every time gojo spreads your folds with his fingers, your panties move slightly to the side–giving your boyfriend a small peek of your exposed cunt.
Gojo had a sheepish grin on his face which immediately curved into a wide smirk once he looked up to meet your half-lidded eyes as your mouth hung ajar—low pants leaving you. He kept rubbing your clit through your panties while his mouth went in and started licking on your slit, slightly pushing the thin fabric of your panties against your hole.
“s-satoru...” a shattered whine of his name left you, making gojo look up to you once again, his mouth still attached to your clothed cunt. “hm?” he managed to let out but came out a little bit muffled. “Please, w-want more,” satoru backed away—a chuckle escaping him.
“Nuh-uh, wanna have you experience the same feeling i experienced” gojo reattached his mouth to your now see-through panties, he swirled his tongue around your clit before playfully biting on it—which caused you to gasp & tighten your grip on satoru’s hair.
He’s wrapping his lips over your clit once again, feverishly suckling on the swollen flesh. Satoru was tempted to just move your panties to the side and eat you out like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks. The idea was enticing but satoru wasn’t about to give up so easily. Even if he’s currently losing his mind to actually get a taste of your pussy.
“S-Satoru—please, s’close!” satoru’s tongue was dancing over your folds, warping and swiveling the mushy flesh until your legs started to shake you arched your back as loud moans left you, as your hand was still gripping satoru’s locks tightly.
Fat tears rolled down your cheeks with your jaw slightly hanging open but no words were escaping your lips, your body spasmed, your grip on satoru’s hair loosened as you held onto the sheets underneath you instead—before you came really hard, drenching your panties even more with your cum.
Satoru was kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he looked up to you, licking his lips, practically tasting your cum on his tongue already. You swallowed thickly, meeting his intense gaze on you and before you could mutter or say anything— satoru has beat you to it.
“I’m not done with you just yet,” satoru had a shit-eating grin as he moved your panties to the side, revealing the mess that was hidden beneath the thin fabric.
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14K notes · View notes
sturnsdarling · 2 months ago
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‘never have I ever, shared a girl with my brother’
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Matt and Chris’ best friend takes an innocent game of ‘never have I ever’ as her opportunity to ask the boys something she’s always wondered
vibe check: THREESOME (obviously no contact between matt and chris the fact that this even needs to be said is insane). dirty talk, softdom!mattandchris, matt the much, double penetration (no lube mentioned but PLEASE USE LUBE i'm so fr), throat fucking (chris receiving), fingering, squirting, titty play, hickies, cream pie, multiple orgasms (i lost count), they both nut inside her (kill me now), cute mini aftercare literally anything you can think of is in this fic dude i could go on forever
5.3k words of pure smut
A/N: the build up/foreplay to the actual smut is basically the scene from challengers because that scene actually changed my life. anyways if you see my search history say anything about how to manifest thought into reality through detailed story writing mind your business.
love and cigs, merc
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There was a city wide power outage in LA, you were hanging out at the boys' house with Matt and Chris when suddenly, the TV turned off and the entire house was pitch black. At first you all freaked out, Chris spouting shit about how this is the night you all die and reeling off the game plan for when an intruder comes in, you and Matt were slightly more collected, Matt immediately checking his phone and confirming the power outage whilst you joked along with Chris about how you were going to fight this supposed intruder.
It had been about an hour, Matt had gone to Nicks room to get all his candles and put them on the living room floor, giving you guys some illumination in the dark. Chris was playing music from his phone, feeling grateful for spotify's offline option. You guys had exhausted every talking point, and even Chris was running out of things to say.
At some point between boredom and death, you suggested a game of never have I ever, and the boys reluctantly agreed. You weren't really playing properly because they didn't drink but, at least it was something.
"never have I ever, lost my virginity on a bench in Boston" Matt said, raising an eyebrow at Chris who rolled his eyes, punching his brothers shoulder.
"oh my god, I fuckin' forgot that thats how you lost it!" you laughed uncontrollably, keeling over into the rug on the floor.
"I dunno why you're laughing so much, kid, you've definitely done worse" Chris tutted at you.
"oh yeah? like what?" you said, playful confrontation in your voice.
"d'you remember when I had to come get you from that dudes house because you threw up on his dick?" Matt interrupted yours' and Chris' conversation.
Your eyes went wide and you nearly spat out the soda in your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter.
"I remember that! you had to climb out the bathroom window because you were too embarrassed to go back out" Chris was keeled over in laughter.
"we've all been there" You shrugged, owning your embarrassing mistake.
"no, kid, we haven't" Matt chuckled, looking to Chris who's face was scrunched up in a confused laugh.
"oh, come on? you're seriously telling me you've never had an embarrassing sexual encounter" you pressed.
"none involving vomit" Chris spoke through his laughter
"and none where I had to flee the scene by jumping out a window" Matt added to Chris' taunting.
"whatever, you guys are just boring, you're lucky you have me to keep you entertained with my embarrassing ass life" You rolled your eyes, pretending to be offended.
"to be fair, once I did accidentally punch a girl in the face whilst i was trying to fuck her" Chris said, trying to stifle his laughter.
"how the fuck did you manage that" You burst into hysterics.
"it was every dark and fumbly and I was still basically a virgin, okay? I apologised like fifty times and she still made me leave" Chris said, a boyish sulk taking over his body.
"dude that's not as bad as the time I was this close to a threesome with these girls, and I got so anxious that I told them my dog had just died and ran out half naked" Matt said, pinching his fingers together and huffing
"not my boy trev, thats so deep bro" Chris shook his head, acting disappointed in his brother.
Matt bringing up his near threesome experience made your ears perk up, and a question you had always wanted to ask came flooding back into your brain. You had been friends with the boys for a while and, had shared stories of all of your sexual escapades, some funny, some incredible and some awful, you were all totally open with each other.
But, your whole friendship, you'd always been curious as to whether they'd ever been offered a threesome, or taken someone up on one. You knew that girls would approach them both, but if one had more interest than the other, the other would back off and let his brother do his thing.
You uncrossed your legs, laying them out flat and placing one over the other as you leaned back on your palms, arching your back slightly as you looked between the boys.
"I have another never have I ever" You said, breaking their conversation.
They both looked to you at the same time, their breath hitching in their throat slightly at the sight of your chest being illuminated by the flicker of candle light.
"never have I ever...shared a girl with my brother" you said with complete nonchalance, looking back and forth between the boys.
Chris and Matt side eyed each other and looked back to you, mouths slightly agape at your forward question.
"like, fucked the same girl on different nights?" Chris asked, being the slightly braver of the two.
you shook your head, "like, fucked the same girl, at the same time" your voice was getting more and more seductive without even meaning to.
They looked at each other again, and then back to you, both slightly stunned, and slightly turned on by you even asking them that.
"we've been offered" Matt shrugged, "but we said no"
"why?" you said, sitting up straight now.
"cause I don't really wanna see my brothers face when I'm tryna cum" Chris laughed, looking to matt who made and agreeing face.
"interesting" you raised your brow quickly with a downwards smile
"why's that interesting?" Matt said, an air of seductive curiosity in his tone.
you shrugged, "I dunno, I jus' think you'd probably enjoy it", you pulled your legs into a criss cross under you, "you don't think the idea of fucking a girl who's so horny for you that she needs another version of you, is hot?" you tilted your head at them.
The boys were slightly stunned, they'd never thought about it like that before. Chris shifted where he sat, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his crotch as Matts eyes were trained on you, his tongue pressed to his cheek as you smiled at him smugly.
"well, when you put it like that, I guess it doesn't sound too bad" Chris said, letting his eyes wander over your frame.
"I've got one" Matt said abruptly, you and Chris looked to him, "never have I ever, offered my triplet best friends a threesome" Matt smirked at you.
You rolled your eyes and Chris attention shot straight to you, "I did not offer you a threesome-"
"yes, you did" Matt cut you off
"I simply asked if you'd ever had one" you shrugged, pretending to have no idea what he was talking about.
"yeah, and then proceeded to tell us exactly why we'd like it" Chris raised a brow at you, not realising he was edging closer to you on the floor.
"was I right?" you said, cocking a brow at Chris.
"yeah, you were" Matt answered for him.
Suddenly, the boys had come significantly closer to you, sitting in front of you like two siamese cats waiting for permission to do something. Your attention flitted between them periodically, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.
"so what then? would you say yes, knowing what you know now?" you said, trying to maintain your confidence
Matt smirked menacingly as Chris' brows dropped, pressing his tongue into the side of his teeth and looking to Matt. Matt side eyed him and they both returned their attentions to you.
"depends on who was askin" Chris said, eyes trained on yours.
"are you askin', pretty girl?" Matt muttered, his long fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair.
The pet name made your stomach flutter, you don't think you'd ever been this turned on in your whole life, the sight of the boys' growing bulges from under their joggers making your mouth water as they both gawked at you, waiting for permission to fuck you exactly how they knew you wanted them to.
You didn't reply, only smiled as you leant forward, pressing your lips against Matts softly. He leaned into the kiss instantly, his hand coming to your face to pull you into him. The kiss was slow and somewhat soft, Matt asking for polite permission to press his tongue against yours with a gentle swipe over your bottom lip. You granted him access, and he pulled you in deeper to him with his hand on your jaw. He led the kiss with a gentle dominance that was slightly surprising from him. Chris watched with a slightly open mouth, watching as your tongue lapped and pressed over Matts, growing increasingly desperate to know what you felt like.
You broke the kiss with Matt, and immediately turned your attentions to Chris, kissing him with the same tenderness that you did Matt. Chris was a lot more feverish than his brother, his tongue entering your mouth instantly as his hand came to cup the under side of your chin. He bit at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before soothing the sting with a warm kiss.
You were reeling in the feeling of kissing them both, the differences between them being so apparent, and only serving to make you want to know how else they were different.
You broke the kiss with Chris and sat back with a content sigh, looking between the two of them as they gawked at you with puffy lips and hooded eyes. You smiled, pushing your hair back off your shoulders and letting it hang down your back, exposing your neck to them. The boys looked to each other and, in an instant, they were by your sides, mouths latched around your neck, pressing their tongues against the soft skin, trailing kisses down either side of your neck.
your whole body felt like it was on fire, the sensation of the two of them nipping at sucking at you neck making you whimper slightly. Matt trailed his kisses down your chest, pressing his warm tongue along the curve of your cleavage as it begged to be freed from your tight tank top.
Chris went in the opposite direction, moving his mouth up your jaw and capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as Matt slowly tugged at the hem of your top.
You pulled at the strap of your vest, letting it fall down your shoulder and giving Matt silent permission to free your tits from their confines. He complied, ripping your tank down with brute force, making your tits bounce free. He instantly latched his mouth around your nipple, biting down on the flesh and soothing the sting with a wet press of his tongue.
You moaned into Chris mouth, and his hand instinctively found the nape of your neck, collecting a handful of your hair and tugging on it, pulling your head back as he rose to his knees, not breaking the kiss.
"you like having us both kiss you like this, huh princess?" Chris said, smirking down at you with his lips brushing over yours.
"mhm" you nodded, your reply coming out in a whimper as Matt continued to work your nipple.
"she said it herself, Chris, she's so horny for us that just one isn't enough" Matt chuckled, palming your tit in his large hand, using his other to tease the hem of your joggers.
You flinched at the touch, a small shiver running down your spine at the sensation of Matts soft fingers teasing your skin.
"so responsive" Matt uttered, his attention focused on how your skin came up in goosebumps under his touch.
"come here, baby" Chris said as he shifted over to rest his back against the sofa, pulling you slightly by your hair.
You obeyed his orders, coming to rest in between his open legs, your back pressed to his. Matt turned to face you both, watching as Chris pried your legs open, raking his hands down the inside of your thighs at an agonising place, moving closer and closer to your throbbing pussy, but stopping before he reached you there.
You whined as Chris moved his hands round to the outside of your thighs, and Matt chuckled at your neediness.
"oh, come on, Chris, look how needy she is for it, just give her a little taste" Matt looked you up and down, his eyes hooded
"you want it, princess?" Chris muttered, his lips pressed to your ear as he hooked his fingers around the top of your joggers.
you nodded, head pressed against Chris' shoulder with your lip tucked between your teeth.
"words, pretty girl, we need words" Matt pushed, leaning forward and squeezing your thigh, inching his hand down your leg.
"yes, please, I want it" you whimpered, picking up your heavy head to look between the boys.
"want what, baby?" Chris said, a smirk wide on his lips as he nipped at your earlobe
"I want you both, I need you both to fuck me, please" you said, desperation thick in your voice.
With that, Chris pushed down your joggers as Matt assisted in lifting your hips up. Matt pulled them down, eyes trained on your covered pussy as sticky juices leaked from between the lace. You were soaked, and he couldn't help but reach forward to touch you.
"look, Chris, she's dripping for us" Matt said, pushing a finger up your covered folds, collecting your wetness on his finger, showing the glistening substance to Chris, who's mouth was once again latched around your neck.
Matt continued to tease your hole, getting down to eye level with your pussy as Chris continued to hold your legs wide open for his brother, your back arching into his chest as Chris sucked purple marks all over your neck, one hand in your hair, the other pressing bruises into your knee. Matts hands pushed you open further for him as he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing pussy, you released a guttural moan at the sensation, your head rolling back on Chris' shoulder, giving him better access to your neck.
Matt wasted no time, he had had a taste of you and now he was hungry. He pulled your panties to the side and latched his mouth around your pussy, pressing his tongue into your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.
Chris pulled his hand out from your hair and began to palm your tit, still relentlessly attacking your neck with wet, warm kisses and soft bites.
The feeling of Chris working your tits as Matt lapped and sucked at your pussy was euphoric, the moans leaving you borderline pornographic as the boys' groaned at the sound of you whimpering for them. Matt brought a slender finger to your entrance, moving up your pussy to suck on your clit as he slipped his finger into your sopping hole with ease. Almost immediately, you clenched around him, and he inserted a second finger, curling them upwards as he coaxed your orgasm from you.
"that feel good, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, "you sound so fuckin' pretty when you moan, y'know that?"
All you could do was moan in response, any sense of coherence being ripped from you by the second as Matt lapped at your pussy like a man starved. He was moaning, actually moaning with every clench around his fingers, drinking you in like you were his last meal.
Chris twisted and pinched at your nipples, his grip on your knee never wavering as he held you open for Matt. You turned your head, biting down on Chris' jaw and pressing your tongue against the stubble there, he chuckled, and captured your mouth in a feverish kiss, groaning as you bit down on his plump bottom lip. His hand raked down your inner thigh, pressing and squeezing bruises into the flesh as he pressed his tongue against yours.
Matt sucked on your clit, burying his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and grazing your g-spot with his long fingers. You broke the kiss with Chris with a pornographic moan, your hands flying to Matts hair to push him desperately into your pussy.
"i think that means keep going, Matt" Chris chuckled.
Matt looked up at you, your mouth agape and brows furrowed as he thrust his fingers deep inside your pussy over and over again, his tongue running circles around your puffy clit. You couldn't help but grind against Matts face, and he moaned at the feeling, using his free hand to hold your hip, near enough forcing you to grind against his tongue harder.
Chris pulled at your hair, making you look at him again and locking his mouth around yours, tongue aggressively pressing and pushing against yours as he returned his hand back to palm your tits.
You were a whimpering mess, moaning and crying into Chris mouth as Matt brought you over the edge with his tongue. You covered Matts mouth with your cum, shaking and convulsing above him as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. He unlatched his glistening mouth from yours and helped you ride out your orgasm, watching in awe as you bucked your shaking hips into his hand.
"look how pretty she is when she cums, Chris" Matt said, gaining Chris' attention
Chris broke the kiss and chuckled, watching as you shook against his chest, "the prettiest girl in the world" he muttered, raking his hand down your stomach and pressing the pads of his fingers against your pulsating clit.
You shifted against Chris, whimpering as you felt a wave of hot tingles rush over your body. Matt was curling his fingers inside you relentlessly, begging for more of you, and Chris was rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your own sticky juices as lube for his movements.
Your eyes where clenched shut, head heavy against Chris' shoulder as you bucked your hips into their hands, moaning relentlessly and unable to form a single thought. A second, fast approaching orgasm ripped through you, and you clenched hard around Matts fingers.
"please, please, please" you began to beg, unsure of what you were begging for as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.
You released a wave of juices over Matts hand, squirting up his arm as you lifted your hips, stuttering. Chris pushed you back down, chuckling as he watched you squirm.
When you finally began to come down from our high, the boys slowed their pace and Matt pulled his fingered from you, licking them clean and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.
"you taste so good, pretty girl" Matt shook his head, pulling off his top with one swift movement.
Chris dipped his fingers in your pussy, inciting a small whimper from you, and pulled them out just as fast, wrapping his arm round you to taste you on his fingers.
"fuckin' delicious" Chris groaned, shifting you forward slightly so he could pull down his shorts, letting his leaking cock slap against his stomach.
You were completely spent already, mind reeling from the shattering orgasms you just experienced, but the sight of the boys undressing for you made you feel increasingly desperate. Chris situated you back against his chest, you were both planted on the sofa and he had lifted you up onto his lap, his cock pressed against your sensitive pussy. Chris pried your legs open once more just after Matt had removed your soaked panties, leaving you totally bare for them.
Chris began to tease your folds with his throbbing cock as Matt freed himself of the rest of his clothes.
"you think you can take us both, princess?" Chris muttered in your ear, his voice cracking with every pump of his cock.
"mhm" you nodded, eyes fluttering at the feeling of Chris teasing your folds with his tip, "I can take it"
"good girl" Matt smirked, coming closer to you and Chris as he pumped his hard length in his hand.
Matt and Chris locked eyes and Matt cocked his head, Chris lifted you up slightly and let his cock slip out the way of your entrance. Matt pressed his tip through your folds, a needy whimper falling from your lips as Chris began to rub slow circles around the entrance of your asshole, preparing you to take them both.
"you ready, beautiful?" Matt said, standing over you with his tip pressed into your folds.
"please, give it to me" you nodded desperately.
Matt smiled a prideful smirk and with your words, pushed his girthy cock inside you. You both moaned at the sensation, Matts hands finding the backs of your thighs as Chris held you open for him. Matt bottomed out inside you, brows knitted together at the tightness of your warm pussy around him.
The feeling of Matt stretching you out, coupled with the slow rubs of Chris' gentle fingers against your hole made you feel light headed, moaning uncontrollably as Chris pushed one, and then two fingers into your gaping hole, using your own wetness as lubrication to slip his long fingers in and out of you. The feeling was unusual, but definitely not bad, the warm touch of them both caressing you as Matt rutted into your seeping pussy at an agonising pace, of Chris fucking his fingers into your asshole, stretching you out perfectly, was genuinely blissful.
You had never felt anything like it, and just as you thought it couldn't get any better, Chris lifted you up slightly, causing Matts dick to slip out of you momentarily. He inched his fingers into your mouth, and teased your hole with his long cock.
"bite down on me, baby, it'll help with the sting" Chris cooed in your ear as he pressed his tip into your clenched hole.
As Chris pushed into you, Matt did the same, thrusting his cock back into your warm pussy. You did just as Chris said, biting down on his fingers as Matt and Chris stretched you out completely. You cried out a moan, the sting only adding to your euphoria as they both began to fuck your gaping holes.
You were completely full of them, being thrust into from every angle as Chris fucked up into your tight asshole, and Matt thrust down into your weeping pussy, Chris fingers in your mouth, and Matts hands pressing bruises into the backs of your thighs.
They were both moaning and muttering, praising nonsense, filling the air with low grunts that were nearly drowned out by the moans that left your throat.
"y'taking us so fuckin' well, pretty girl, so fuckin' well" Matt grunted, planting a hard slap on the back of your thigh, kneading the flesh with soothing touches just after.
"so fuckin' tight around me, baby, fuck, you feel so good" Chris groaned feverishly in your ear, biting down on your lobe as he picked up his pace, fucking into your hole with animalistic passion.
Their praises made your head spin, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night.
"m'gonna cum, please let me cum, i'm- i'm- i'm" you were rambling, unable to think straight as the boys continued to fuck your holes.
"cum, baby, cum for us" Matt grunted, pressing his thumb over your puffy clit and rubbing steady circles over it.
"show us how pretty you are when you cum, princess, show me again, I miss it" Chris muttered into your ear, pulling his fingers from your mouth and rubbing wet circles over your nipple.
Your orgasm ripped through you, leaving a white sticky ring all around Matts cock as it leaked from you and down onto Chris' balls. Neither of them stopped their pace, fucking you through your high as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your whole body shaking in white hot euphoria as they filled you up. You were borderline screaming at this point, moaning their names over and over again as your whole body tensed.
"so fuckin sexy" Matt grunted, rutting into you with gritted teeth.
Chris watched as your jaw hung slack, slowing his pace in your asshole and pressing a few long, slow and hard thrusts inside of you.
"I need t'know what that pretty mouth feels like" Chris said, pulling out of you. The sting of him removing himself from your gaping hole being soothed by the cool, wet juices of your sopping pussy.
Matt pulled out, earning a whimper from you at the complete emptiness you felt.
Before you could complain, you were thrown about the sofa, head hanging over the edge with your legs pressed against your chest and your mouth stuffed full.
Matt was pounding into you, holding your legs tight against your chest but just open enough so that he could see your tits bounce as he rutted into you.
Chris had his hands wrapped round your jaw, softly caressing your cheeks as he fucked your open throat.
"you're so good, baby, taking me down your pretty little throat like this as Matt abuses your perfect pussy" Chris cooed softly, watching as tears pricked at your eyes, gagging around his massive cock with every thrust.
You loved it, it was exactly what you wanted. The feeling of Matt rutting into you, stretching you out and hitting your g-spot as Chris pounded down into the back of your throat, looking at you like you were an angel as he made you gag around him, was perfect. You reached a hand down to your pussy, and began to rub fast circles over your clit. Matt near enough growled at the sight, fucking you harder than ever, the sting of his skin slapping against yours only serving to push you closer to the edge again.
"keep doin' that, princess, keep playin' with y'self for me, kay? don't you dare stop" Matt grunted, breathy moans escaping his mouth with every thrust into your clenching pussy.
"you gonna cum, beautiful? you like having your throat fucked so much you'll touch yourself over it?" Chris smirked down at you, his pace into your throat never wavering as he periodically threw his head back, thrusting deep into the back of your throat.
You attempted to nod around him, whimpering and moaning around his cock at the familiar tingly feeling creeping up your spine. Chris moaned your name as he bottomed out in your throat, hips stuttering slightly as he reluctantly pulled out and began to thrust in and out once more.
You were clenching hard around Matt, and he knew you were about to cum, uttering encouraging praises to you in hopes of seeing you cum again. "come on baby, gimme one more, y'so fuckin' perfect, such a good girl, jus' gimme one more"
Your pace on your clit began to falter and you came all over Matts dick, moaning around Chris' length as tears fell from your eyes. The feeling of you clenching so hard around him gave Matt the push he needed, and with a few hard and fast thrusts into your sensitive and spent pussy, he came inside you, fucking his cum into you as he rode out his high, pressing bruises into your thighs as his head hung low on his neck.
"fuck, oh my- fuck" Matt groaned, leaning down and biting down on the bone of your knee, trying to steady his bucking hips as they chased the feeling of your warm pussy leaking his own cum all over his cock.
Your whole body felt limp, you were completely fucked out, and yet, as Chris continued to fuck your throat, you found yourself almost sad at the emptiness you felt when Matt finally pulled out of your throbbing pussy.
"Chris, you gotta feel how fuckin' tight she is, dude" Matt sighed, shaking his head and resting back onto the soft couch to catch his breath.
Chris pulled out from the depths of your throat and gave you a warm smile from your hung position over the sofa. He walked round, grabbing your legs and spinning you round so your thighs were spread for him, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the sofa as Chris lined himself up with your spent hole.
"you think you can take just a lil' more, baby? you wanna let me cum inside you as well?" Chris caressed your thigh with one hand and pumped his cock with the other.
"yes, please, Chris, fill me up jus' like Matt did" you whimpered, spreading your thighs wider for him.
Chris smiled, "such a good girl" pressing gentle touches into your thighs as he pushed his cock deep into your aching hole.
Chris' eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight, warm pussy sucking him in like a vice, "Jesus, fuck" he moaned.
You whined at the stretch, not even close to recovered from the pounding Matt had given you. Tears pricked at your eyes once more and you moaned Chris' name, pressing a desperate hand into his chest.
Matt came up beside you, taking your jaw in his hand gently and pressing a tender kiss on your open mouth.
"you can take it, baby, be a good girl and take it" Matt said softly, caressing your hair as you nodded, eyes fluttery and lips parted.
Chris was fucking into you like he'd never felt a pussy like yours in his life. Every time he pulled out, he was sucked back in by your clenching walls, reeling in the way you felt stretched out around him. Your tits were bouncing with every thrust, and with your tongue pressed against Matts in a needy, sloppy, moan filled kiss, you didn't notice Chris' hips begin to stutter. His pace began to falter as he became a rambling mess, thrusting in and out of you, cursing and moaning your name as you moaned into Matts mouth at the feeling of him effortlessly fucking into your g-spot over and over again with his lengthy cock.
With a final hard few thrusts, Chris' mouth was latched around the curve of your neck, biting down on the muscle as he came inside you, filling you up for the second time that night. He fucked you through his high, pushing his cum deep inside your already cum soaked walls.
Matts hold on you was gentle and grounding, him only pulling away from kissing you when Chris mustered the strength to pull out of your perfect pussy.
Chris reached down to the floor and put on his shorts, throwing Matt his and slumping down on the sofa beside you. You were sandwiched between them, Matts head rested on your shoulder and Chris laying over your stomach, your legs hanging open over the edge of the sofa. They were both panting, tracing small circles on your skin as your whole body relaxed into the soft cushion of the sofa.
You were exhausted, completely spent and desperate for sleep as you felt the boys' cum leak out of your sore pussy.
Matt lifted his head up, hooking his finger under your jaw to make you look at him, "you okay, pretty girl?" he asked softly.
You nodded with fluttery eyes and a weak smile, your hand caressing Chris' soft curls as he laid in your lap.
Matt smiled at you, pressing a gentle kiss on your nose, "you wanna go have a nice warm bath and cuddle up in bed with me n'Chris?"
you nodded again, eyes fluttering closed as you hummed, unable to form a sentence.
The boys helped you up, Chris passed you his t-shirt and helped you put it on, telling you to go easy and let him do everything.
They walked you to the bathroom, Matt holding you against his chest as Chris ran the bath and helped you step in, both of them easing you down into the bubbly warm water.
You sighed at the relief of the warm water covering you, your eyes closing and head rolling back on its hinge for a moment.
Matt was sitting down by the side of the tub, his finger tips tracing soft circles on your shoulders as Chris sat on the counter top, sorting the perfect queue of songs to help you relax as much as possible.
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taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous
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simpforboys · 8 days ago
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nobody leaves rafe cameron
toxic!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: after a series of arguments with your boyfriend, he has to remind you of your place when you try to leave him.
warnings: toxic relationship, very toxic and mean rafe (meow), arguing, smut, cnc, dacryphilia, choking, degrading, praising, dirty talk, a pussy slap, unprotected piv sex (errr no no), creampie, angst, a lot of swearing, trying to break up, talking bad about your partner behind their back
this takes place episodes 4x1-3
tell a friend to tell a friend, she’s backkkk
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he was so fucking mean.
all you and him had done in the past few months is bicker and argue.
the week had already been shitty, but when Rafe told you he was going to compete in the Kildare BMX Race, you wanted to be a supportive girlfriend.
key word: wanted.
Rafe was tuning up some stuff on his dirt bike, dressed in all black. you sat on the sand next to him, just admiring him as he worked.
it was rare for him to wear all black, and the look was driving you insane.
“you gonna keep starin’ at me?” Rafe teases softly.
“mhm.” you hummed, grinning.
the announcer came on to say there was about five minutes til the race so everyone should head over to the start.
“hand me my helmet, would ya?” Rafe asks.
you stand up, wiping the sand from your denim skirt and grab his black helmet. you hand him it, feeling his large hand come down to help wipe some of the sand off your ass.
“there you go,” he coos.
“good luck, baby.” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
he just mumbles a soft thank you, slipping on his helmet as he starts the bike’s engine, switches gears, and takes off over to the starting line.
➽───────────────────❥
the race had been going smoothly. Rafe was in first the entire time…
until JJ Maybank decided to jump the river bank, landing in front of Rafe.
you watched anxiously, cheering on for your longterm boyfriend. but when Rafe’s front wheel collided with JJ’s back wheel, the two guys crashed and were flung off their bikes.
the rest of the racers zoom by, causing Topper to win.
“oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, running over to where Rafe was on the floor.
“are you okay?” you ask, trying to help him up. he shrugs you off of him, too clouded by anger.
he storms over to where John B and Sarah are with you hot on his tail.
“get used to it.” Rafe grumbles, causing John B to look at him.
“what’d you say?” John B asks, clearly frustrated. when Rafe doesn’t respond, he shoves him.
“what’d you say?!” John B repeats, louder this time as Rafe shoves him back.
“get used to it! get used to it, alright? this is forever, ya’ll don’t get to win!” Rafe yells as Sarah steps in between her brother and husband.
“you could have killed each other!” Sarah scolds.
“Rafe, c’mon, please.” you ask pleadingly, tugging on his arm.
yet again, he shrugs you off. due to the sand being uneven, the small movement was enough to cause you to fall on your ass.
but Rafe didn’t notice, or, didn’t seem to care as he continued to shoot insults at Sarah.
you were now pissed as you stood back up, and then it seemed like your boyfriend remembered you were together.
he tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders for support, still aching and hurt from the crash.
you just shrugged him off, storming away.
“y/n!” Rafe calls after you.
➽───────────────────❥
he somehow managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants the day after the race.
but when you and Rafe walked into Topper’s little celebration party at one of the villas, Topper embraced Rafe into a hug, clearly drunk from the intense game of beer pong.
“you see him? his dad shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin.” some girl mutters to her boyfriend.
unfortunately, Rafe overheard.
“leave it—“ you started, but he was already going over to the girl, who was now backing up against the wall.
“what’d you say?” he asks, the girl’s boyfriend pushing Rafe back.
“go away, Rafe.” the boyfriend grumbles, but Rafe doesn’t back down.
“no, no, if you have something to say, say it to my face.” Rafe slaps his cheek for emphasis, but Topper and you move to pull him back.
“hey, relax, okay?” you tried to say, watching him grab a bottle of alcohol and start drinking it.
“just— just get the fuck off of me right now.” Rafe says coldly, obviously pissed off about the situation.
you grit your teeth, a pit forming in your stomach as you bit back a response. but you obliged, walking away from him.
➽───────────────────❥
yet again, he managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants, reassuring you that he’s just going through a lot of stress about the deal with Hollis.
but the final breaking point was when your father had came to you about pushing Rafe towards his teetering decision about becoming Hollis’ partner.
you immediately said no, not wanting to go behind your boyfriend’s back. so when you drove over to the yacht club Rafe was at, you found him sipping on a margarita with Topper and Ruthie.
“what about your girlfriend?” Ruthie asks, making you stop in your tracks.
it was wrong to listen in on his conversation, but a part of you wanted to hear what he had to say about you.
“who, y/n?” Rafe asks, making Ruthie nod.
“she’s not my girlfriend… we’re just hookin’ up, ya’know?” Rafe murmurs, drinking more of his margarita.
a pain started to form where your heart was, a deep frown on your face as he spoke.
“i thought she moved in.” Topper furrows his brows.
“she’s not going to move in… i would never live with a pogue, i have standards.” he explains, making Ruthie and Topper laugh.
that was your breaking point, the point where you were ready to throw the past 19 months away.
because clearly if he couldn’t even respect you to his friends, he doesn’t respect you at all.
you turned on your heel, trying to leave when you accidentally knocked into a server, causing a glass to fall down.
you swore under your breath, ducking out and leaving. but unfortunately, your boyfriend is tall, and he was able to see your head.
“awe, shit.” he cursed quietly, drinking the rest of his beverage before walking away.
“y/n! y/n.” Rafe calls out, jogging to catch up to you.
“no, Rafe! i’m fucking done!” you yell, storming to your house that was only a few blocks away.
Rafe runs in front of you, grabbing your hips to stop you from moving. “the hell you mean done?”
“are you dense? we’re over.” you snap, trying to pull out of his grip.
he clenched his jaw, laughing bitterly.
“i don’t know what you think you heard, but-“
“i don’t think anything. i know you just basically said you could never take me seriously as a girlfriend since i’m a pogue.” you cut him off, lip trembling as you wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek.
“i didn’t mean it like that, baby.” Rafe coos, just trying to charm his way back.
“no, stop. it’s not going to fucking work, Rafe. i’m serious… we’re done.”
“no, we’re not.” Rafe says, his voice dangerously low.
“yes, we are,” you spit.
Rafe roughly grabs you, pushing you into the back of his car. once you’re inside, he moves on top of you, grabbing your throat with his hand.
“you think you can just leave me?” he laughs piercingly, his face barely a few inches from yours.
you didn’t respond, causing him to squeeze your neck. “i fucking hate you.”
“no, you don’t.” Rafe murmurs, unbuttoning your shorts, pushing them down your thighs.
“stop, Rafe-“
“no, you’re going to fucking listen to me!” Rafe yells, forcing you to stare up at him.
“nobody leaves me, you understand?” he asks, his voice breathy and dark.
chills ran down your spine, your eyes wide in fear as your body trembled.
“you fuckin’ understand?” Rafe reiterates, barely slapping your clothed cunt.
“y-yes,” you whimper.
“good girl. now, ‘m gonna fuck this pussy because ‘s mine, yeah?” Rafe says, not really asking.
all you do is nod in response, hating how your clit is throbbing with need.
“you’re lucky i’m not gonna make you suck my cock right now… just wanna remind my girl that she will always be my girl.”
he’s rambling as he shoves his shorts down just enough for his dick to sprang free. he’s always been well endowed, with an 8.5 inch cock, a pretty pink tip, and two prominent veins you always loved to lick on.
“wearin’ these fucking panties… you wanted this, huh? wanted to come and try and make a fool outta me?” Rafe grumbles, pulling the pink lace to the side to reveal your drenched cunt.
you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes from the situation. you were hurt, angry, and fucking horny.
Rafe wastes no time in sliding his cock into your hungry hole, his hand tightening around your throat.
“mhmm, my girl ‘s always so hungry for me. look at this slutty hole suckin’ me in,” he purrs.
he pushes his hips until your clit is pressed against his pelvis, a few tears rolling down your cheeks with your lip in a pout.
“that’s a good girl… fuckin’ cry for me.” Rafe grunts, starting to piston his hips as he fucks you in the backseat of his car.
your hands gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat and the headrest of the back, pretty eyes fluttering shut as your cunt clenched around him.
“yeah… look at you clenching f’me… so needy for this dick.” Rafe coos, forcing you to look at him.
“open your mouth.”
you don’t oblige at first, too overwhelmed in pleasure and the fact that you’re getting fucked by the same man who just talked shit about you.
he uses his fingers to open your jaw, spitting in your mouth. “when i tell you to do somethin’, you fucking do it. swallow.”
you swallow his spit, pussy fluttering around his relentless cock.
“good girl.”
“Rafe— fuck…” you pant.
the car shook as he pounded into your soaping cunt, his balls slapping against your ass.
“tell me who this slutty pussy belongs to.”
“y-you, Rafe… my slutty pussy belongs to you.” you trembled, hand gripping his forearm as he continued to apply pressure to your neck.
“you understandin’ that you can never leave me? that you’ll always be Rafe Cameron’s whore?” he coos, his eyes dark, voice low.
you nod, body shaking as your breathing grows heavier.
“that’s what i thought… all you needed was a good fuckin’ and you’re all well behaved n shit.”
his mean words were turning you on more unfortunately, your belly tightening with each rough thrust.
but when he took his hand off of your neck, beginning to toy with your aching clit.
“look at this clit… all swollen n throbbing f’me. fuck, you’re such a needy whore.” Rafe grunts, his cock twitching inside of you.
all you could do was nod, dizzy and lightheaded from pleasure.
“is my girl gonna cum f’me?” he coos tauntingly, the pad of his thumb flicking teasingly on your hard nub.
“p-please… please, Rafey…”
he moans at the nickname, losing his composure for a second as his balls clench, trying to hold off his orgasm until you explode on him.
“come on, baby. cum on this dick.”
at his approval, you let the coil in your stomach snap. you whimper loudly, clinging onto anything you can reach as your body trembles beneath him.
your orgasm triggers Rafe’s, pussy walls fluttering around him so deliciously he has no choice but to cum inside you.
“take this cum… take my fucking seed.” he groans, hips stuttering as he fills you to the brim.
you pant, vision blurry and suddenly needy for water when you begin to come back down from cloud nine.
you pulled him down into a soft, tender kiss, panting into each-other’s mouths.
Rafe leaned forward, grabbing a half empty water bottle from the cupholder you had left there as he unscrews the cap, holding the hole to your mouth.
“drink,” he murmured.
you happily complied, the water soothing your throat.
“good girl,” he hums in approval.
you couldn’t help but clench around him at the praise, and Rafe’s head fell slightly at the feeling, a proud smirk tugging on his lips.
he knew he was training you so well, even if you needed a reminder every now and then <33.
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cleo-fox · 1 year ago
Text
Surrender
Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.
No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.
(Soulmate AU where Loki won)
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.
A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.
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The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.
At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.
He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.
He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.
“Show me your wrist,” he says.
You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.
His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.
It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.
He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.
You do, of course. What other choice do you have?
*
The next several hours are a blur.
You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?
It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.
You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.
You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.
You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.
They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.
You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.
You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.
You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.
*
It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.
You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.
“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.
“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.
He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.
“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.
*
You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.
Or that was your plan, anyway.
Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.
The room is much colder at night.
You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.
You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.
You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.
But you also have to pee.
You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.
The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.
Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.
Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.
“Come to bed,” Loki says.
You clear your throat. “What?”
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”
You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.
You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.
You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.
“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.
“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.
You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”
He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.
You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.
He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.
And after a while, yours does, too.
*
Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.
It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.
It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.
But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.
But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.
You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.
“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.
God fucking dammit.
You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.
“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.
He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.
“It won’t happen again,” you say.
It does.
This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.
But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.
Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.
The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.
The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.
This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.
You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.
You open a private browser window and pull up Google.
Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.
The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.
You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.
But only nearly and only for now.
*
The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.
Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.
You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.
Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.
When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.
The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.
The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.
Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.
But not yet. Not yet.
*
Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.
You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.
You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.
The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.
You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.
“You were calling out in your sleep.”
More heat prickles at your skin.
“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.
“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.
He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”
He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”
You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?
He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 
“You flatter yourself,” you say.
You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”
Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”
Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.
“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.
“Nothing,” you say.
He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”
You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.
“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.
Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.
“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”
Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.
“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”
You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.
The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.
You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.
You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.
There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.
You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.
“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”
You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”
He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.
You barely manage a breathy affirmative.
“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”
“Please,” you breathe.
“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”
“Don’t stop,” you say.
“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”
You nod, slack jawed and panting.
“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”
You whimper, your hips rocking.
“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.
“I need to come,” you moan.
“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”
A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”
His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.
“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.
“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.
His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”
You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”
He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”
“Is it working?” you ask.
He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”
You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 
You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”
Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”
You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.
“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.
“Don’t you dare,” he growls.
You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”
“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”
Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”
His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.
“Good girl,” he says.
And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.
You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.
You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.
You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.
The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.
“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.
You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.
So close.
“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”
You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.
Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.
It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.
He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.
“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.
“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”
It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.
“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”
He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.
Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.
Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.
He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 
Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.
You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.
“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.
“Will you show me?” you ask.
“Every day,” he says.
It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.
He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.
You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.
But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.
“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.
You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.
Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.
You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.
But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.
Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.
“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”
There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.
“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”
You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.
“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”
You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.
In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 
A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”
You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”
It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.
The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 
As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.
“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”
“Getting close,” you breathe.
“I know, I can feel you,” he says.
You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.
“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.
It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.
He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.
“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”
You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.
“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”
He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.
“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.
Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.
“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.
You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.
“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”
You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”
Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.
Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.
His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.
You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.
Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.
For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.
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sunghoonswhore · 27 days ago
Text
Park Sunghoon (kinks + positions)
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PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE: smut
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
WARNING: 18+ content, slight exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking/breath play, standing backshots, missionary, dirty talk (sunghoon calls the reader slut, cunt) I think that's all
A/N: hi again lmao this one feels SO SO SO rushed to me for some reason but I'm posting it nonetheless so once again, if it feels weird or like poorly just POINT IT OUT but have a lovely read ahead <333
Kinks: exhibitionism, breath play, overstimulation
Positions: backshots, missionary
Your face was pressed against the cold glass of the balcony door as Sunghoon’s dick drilled inside you from the back and his hand held your hair up in a messy ponytail in his fist with your head pulled back to rest on his shoulder. Standing backshots were his favourite thing in the world. “Our neighbours must be having one hell of a show” he whispered against your ear, so close that his lips brushed against your earlobe. 
“Ye-es ngh” Your body could only grunt in response when you felt him pry your legs open even more to reach into your hole deeper if that were possible. His other hand reached down your body and stopped at your clit where he began circling figure eights on the bundle of nerves, doubling the amount of pleasure that he was giving you while rearranging your insides with his cock.
“You about to come huh?” you felt him groan out while his hand kept working on your clit and your hair being pulled to keep you in place. “Ah- yes aahh” Broken moans were spilling out of your mouth with every thrust of his that seemed to deepen every time he pushed in. “Tsk tsk tsk” You could see his reflection in the glass door against which you were pressed, a smug grin on his face, relishing in your pleasure. 
“Fucked you too dumb didn’t I?” he asked while mocking a pout as he licked a wet stripe up your left cheek. The coil in your stomach seemed to tighten and snap at any given moment with the way he sped up the speed of his fingers abusing your clitoris. He laughed at your almost half-conscious state, your eyes half-hooded as your body spasmed with pleasure when he hit that spot inside you. Coming undone on his cock, you could only feel him drilling inside you throughout your high.
“I’m gonna fill you up so much you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days you fucking cunt” Hearing his harsh words you could only see white, the pleasure becoming too much as your legs gave out, but he held you hoisted up against the balcony door through which absolutely anyone could see the way Sunghoon was fucking your brains out. With your eyes rolled to the back of your head and clit so sensitive you could cry, you felt his hips stutter against your ass indicating that he was close too. “In-Inside” somehow you managed to croak to which you received a harder pull on your hair, he pulled on your hair a little as he shot his load inside you, filling you up to the brim and delivering one last deep thrust making sure to not waste even a drop of it. 
You could feel the ropes of warm white liquid being fucked into you from behind as he loosened his grip on your hair, your scalp burning with the after-effects and your body limp, leaning against the door. You felt him picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, legs sore from being forced open for 2 orgasms already. Your brain was too fogged to comprehend what was happening in front of you when you felt the mattress dip by the sides of your head. “You didn’t think we were done yet, did you?” he whispered in your ear. 
Sunghoon was on top of you, his elbows supporting his body weight as he slowly but sensually took your lips in for a hungry kiss, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and exploring every bit of it and sucking on your tongue. A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled back to look at your face with beads of sweat here and there. 
You let out a panicked gasp when his tip rubbed your slick between your folds as white spilt out from your pussy from the last orgasm. One of his hands slid down your body, reaching down to where your bodies were connecting as he guided his still-hardened shaft inside your sensitive cunt. “Take it like the little slut you are huh?” he grunted before immediately pushing his whole length in without a warning, knocking the air out of you as the new position allowed his tip to kiss your cervix just at the right spot. 
Feeling an emptiness as he pulled out, you couldn’t recover from the previous thrust when he pistoned back in, hitting that spot again that whitened your vision with pleasure each time his tip brushed against it. “N-no more a-aah please-” you couldn’t even finish saying when you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, applying pressure just enough to make you gasp for air, blurring your vision with immense pleasure as his pace quickened, squelching sounds could be heard with each thrust as he fucked your mixed cum back into your hole.
“Give me one more yeah?” he said while releasing your throat just enough for you to catch your lost breath before he tightened his grip again. His hips were slamming into yours continuously, your body digging into the mattress each time pushed in harshly. You could only shake your head in response when he suddenly released his grip from your throat and his hand immediately reached down to rub urgent circles on your already swollen and sensitive clitoris. 
A string of incoherent moans spilt from your throat when he deepened his thrusts and rubbed your clit, pushing your body to another orgasm that you felt approaching soon. Your pussy clenching around him in response to the stimulation and sucking him even deeper into your hole. “Cum for me slut” he said as you came around him for the 3rd time tonight. Your warm cum was leaking out of you as he kept thrusting inside you, chasing his own high which wasn’t that far as you kept clenching around him. “S-stop Sungh-” you were about to say but his palm was placed against your lips, muffling your cries for him to stop. 
“Love. watching. You. fall. Apart. On. My. Cock.” he said after every thrust that built up to his orgasm and he finally shot his seed in you, filling you up to the brim and pushing all your cum mixed with his inside you with one especially deep thrust. 
You felt his forehead drop onto yours while he caught his breath, panting from the intense orgasm he just had, his dick still sensitive inside of you when he pulled out with a sharp hiss and sitting on his knees with your legs spread wide, white spilling out of your hole as he pushed it back in with his fingers, “gotta keep it all inside hm?” he said while looking at your fucked out expression, letting out a mocking laugh when he saw you looking at him with a tired smile on your lips when looking at him. 
“You got some real nerve smiling down at me while your pussy’s quite literally leaking of my cum” he said while standing up and getting a box of tissues from the side table to clean both of you up.
It was days like this when you were reminded of how high your boyfriend’s sex drive was.
Nonetheless, you enjoyed every second of nights like these.
1K notes · View notes
hintsofhoney · 8 months ago
Text
Ladies With Experience
Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”
You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 
“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”
“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.
“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 
“Mornin’, sunshine.”
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 
The question caught you off guard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”
“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 
You shook your head. 
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 
His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 
“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
“Do I at least get a hint?”
“Dean, I —”
“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 
“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”
You didn’t respond.
He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 
“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”
“Romantic,” you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
“What?” you croaked.
“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”
“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 
“Of whatever you want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 
You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“No, that’s not what I —”
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”
Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”
“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”
He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”
“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 
“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”
“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
“Why do you know that?”
God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”
“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 
“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 
Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”
His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”
“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”
“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 
“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”
“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 
“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
“Telling Sammy to beat it.”
Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”
He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”
“Why not!?”
“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 
“Oh my God,” you began.
“Shut up.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”
“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 
“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 
Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 
“Ladies first.”
“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
“Promise.”
“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.
“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.
You tilted your head in question.
“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”
“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —
“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 
“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
“Like the fucking brat you are.”
You almost came from that alone. 
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 
“Do your worst.”
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”
“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”
“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”
You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”
“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”
“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”
“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”
“Put me in my place,” you repeated.
“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 
You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 
Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 
“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 
“Hold it,” he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.
“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.
“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”
You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 
“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.
“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”
“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 
“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 
“Dean,” you breathed.
“Hm?”
“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.
You decided you liked “baby” better. 
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”
You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 
“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 
“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 
“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hm. But not this time, right?”
“Y/N —” he warned.
“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.
“Color?” he questioned roughly.
“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 
“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 
“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 
“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 
“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 
“Good?” he asked.
“So fucking good.”
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 
“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 
“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —
“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 
“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
“More than,” you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —
“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”
He snorted. “They’re half right.”
“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”
You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”
“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”
“It was perfect, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”
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