#watch us both go feral | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkandapex · 1 month ago

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stream madness pt.3

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N continue to grace the stream with tooth-achingly sweet moments, often caught on camera. But they’re not immune to some naughty slip-ups, much to Max F's dismay.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

part 1 | part 2

Mic On

It was already well into the night, and somehow, Max had convinced Lando to hop on his Twitch stream for a late-night Counter-Strike session. They were in between rounds when the door creaked open, and Y/N walked in.

Lando tugs off one side of his headset the moment he felt her hand rest on his shoulder, tilting his head back to look up at her.

“Oh, hey baby. How was dinner?” he murmured, catching her hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his hair, making his eyes flutter shut for a brief second. “It was good. You’re on stream?”

“Mhmm.” He nodded, completely unbothered, yanking off his headset entirely.

Max’s voice suddenly boomed through the speakers. “Hey Y/N! Chat’s been looking for you.”

Y/N laughed, settling into the empty gaming chair beside Lando. “Sorry, chat. I was out with friends.”

Y/N’s eyes continued to scan the chat, answering a few questions every now and then, completely unaware of the way Lando was staring.

He hadn’t looked away since the moment she walked in. Not once.

Max was still talking, chat was flying, but Lando? Lando was somewhere else entirely.

Y/N finally glanced over, catching his intense gaze. She raised a brow, lips curving into a small smile. “What?”

Her soft voice snapped him out of his trance, but instead of looking flustered, Lando’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. He didn’t answer right away—just leaned in slightly, fingers reaching for his mic.

An attempt to mute himself.

Except—

He missed.

He tugs her chair a little closer, his hand sliding onto her lap as that familiar cheeky smirk plays on his lips.

“I was just thinking… you look really good right now, my love. Do you wanna—”

"MIC ON! MIC ON! YOUR MIC IS STILL ON!"

Max’s panicked scream blasted through the speakers.

Max’s panicked shouts made both of them jump, Y/N spinning her chair away in embarrassment while Lando nearly slid off his own chair from laughing.

Chat was going feral.

Lando, still wheezing, finally managed to get words out. “I just wanted to ask if she wanted to stay on the stream and play with us!”

Max, still skeptical, narrowed his eyes through the screen. “Sure, Lando. Sure.”

Lando shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Get your head out of the gutter, mate. Dirty bastard.”

Y/N, still red-faced, simply sighed. The damage was already done.

"max always having to come to their rescue will never not be funny" "LN was ready to risk it all" "cant blame bob, Y/N looks amazing" "MAX SHOUTING" "Please tell me someone clipped that"

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Fish are friends NOT food

"Baby, please. Your food is touching my food."

Lando’s whiny complaint made both Max and Y/N pause mid-chew, turning to look at him like he’d just announced he was retiring from racing to become a monk.

Max glanced over at Lando’s plate, unimpressed, before shaking his head with a chuckle. "You're unbelievable, mate."

"It's just sushi, Lan" Y/N muttered, barely sparing him a glance as she scrolled through her phone.

"It's fish!" Lando exclaimed, holding up his plate dramatically for the camera, zooming in to prove how his spring rolls were daring to brush against Y/N’s salmon nigiri.

Max snorted. “Grow up, Lando.”

Lando huffed, crossing his arms. "You grow up." He looks over at his girlfriend, pleading eyes "Baby please, I don't even want to touch it"

“Lan…” Y/N sighed in defeat, picking up the piece of sushi he was so dramatically complaining about and popping it into her mouth. “Happy?”

Lando watched in absolute horror, his face scrunching up like he’d just witnessed a crime. He shivered at the mere thought of it. “Don’t know how you can eat that… raw too.”

Y/N smirked, grabbing another piece. She held it up to him. “Try it. Come on.”

“No.”

“I promise you it’s good.”

“And I promise you I’m gonna be sick.” Lando leaned back, holding his arm out like she was trying to feed him actual poison.

Max, watching the whole thing unfold, burst out laughing. “This is the farthest I’ve ever seen Lando be from Y/N while being in the same room as her.”

Chat? Losing it.

"HE’S SO DRAMATIC I CAN’T" "MAX WITH THE LIVE COMMENTARY" "bro is scared of sushi"

“I’ll do a photoshoot for Quadrant merch if you eat one piece.”

Silence.

Both Max and Lando’s heads snapped toward Y/N so fast they could’ve gotten whiplash.

Y/N had denied every single request to model for Quadrant—begged, bribed, guilt-tripped—nothing had worked. Until now.

Max turned to the camera, mouth slightly agape. “Do you guys understand how long we’ve been asking Y/N to model for us? They weren’t even dating yet and we were already trying to convince her.”

Lando’s gaze flickered between the sushi and Y/N, eyes filled with pure despair and conflict.

“Two collections,” he blurted out.

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“You have to model for two collections” Lando negotiated, like this was a high-stakes F1 contract and not about eating a single piece of fish.

Max and Y/N exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

“There you go, chat,” Max said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now you know we’re working on two new collections, thanks to Lando’s terrible bargaining skills.”

Lando groaned, realizing he had just leaked their upcoming release in real time.

“Fine,” Y/N conceded, “but you have to actually chew and swallow it.”

Lando narrowed his eyes. “AND… you do a shoot with me for LN4 merch too.”

The room fell silent again.

Max watched in amusement as Lando and Y/N locked eyes, neither blinking, waiting to see who would fold first.

Max smirked. “This is the most intense negotiation I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve seen Alpine and McLaren fight over Oscar Piastri.”

Finally, Y/N held out her hand. “Deal.”

Lando took it, but instead of shaking, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “Deal.”

Max exploded. “I can’t believe this is happening. Someone clip this, please, I’m begging—fuck it, I gotta film this.” He fumbled for his phone, nearly knocking over his drink in the process.

Lando let out a deep, dramatic breath, grabbing his water bottle like it was his lifeline.

Y/N’s smile stretched wide, almost devilish, as she slowly inched the piece of sushi closer to Lando’s mouth.

“Open up, cutie,” she cooed.

Lando shot her a look of betrayal, but he had already sealed his fate. With a deep breath, he took the piece into his mouth, chewing at full speed, eyes squeezed shut like he was enduring actual pain.

Max was already cackling.

Lando forced himself to swallow, then dramatically opened his mouth wide to prove it was gone before immediately chugging half his water bottle like his life depended on it.

Y/N and Max? Wheezing.

Max threw his hands up. “And history has been made!”

Still recovering, Lando grabbed a spring roll and took the biggest bite possible, desperately trying to erase the taste of fish from his mouth.

Y/N ruffled his hair, grinning proudly. “Proud of you, my love. I’m telling Carlos about your bravery today.”

Lando nearly choked on his spring roll. “No. You are not.”

"HE TOOK IT LIKE A CHAMP" "Lando vs. Sushi—Sushi wins" "CARLOS NEEDS TO HEAR ABOUT THIS ASAP"

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Australia GP

Max had woken up far too early, but the excitement for the Australia race had him buzzing. He’d set up his stream, ready to deliver some live commentary for his viewers as they watched the race unfold. Max had already talked about Lando's stellar performance from practice and qualifying, and of course, a handful of jabs about Y/N's debut on the big screen.

As the camera cut to Y/N chatting with Cisca, Lando’s mom, during the red flag pause, Max’s eyes lit up.

“Ah, there she is! WAG title stealer!” Max exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly as the broadcast showed Y/N mid-conversation, the words "Lando’s partner" flashing across the screen beneath her name.

The chat exploded with laughing emojis as Max quickly snapped a picture on his phone, an evil smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m sending this straight to Lando. He’s gonna love this. Bro is down bad for her, it's actually sickening”

The race hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. Max was feeling empathetic for all the rookies, as well as Carlos and Fernando, who were all out of the race early, DNFing one by one. But what really sent everyone into a bit of a spiral was when both McLarens went off-track, and then Oscar slid off into the grass.

Max kept going with his commentary, his usual sharp observations now mixed with praise for Oscar’s effort to get his car back on track. He was doing his best to keep it light, but when the camera cut to a replay of the McLaren garage’s reaction, Max couldn’t help himself.

“Oh dear,” Max chuckled softly, eyes glued to the screen. “Look at Y/N. I think she aged 10 years and it’s only race 1 of 24.”

Y/N’s face was a mix of concern and pure stress, tightly holding hands with Cisca as she watched her partner’s car struggle. Her eyes went wide when Oscar’s car slipped, and the pressure was visible on her face.

Max, clearly enjoying himself, added, “Poor Y/N looks like she’s about to start a full-on grey hair collection.”

The chat was absolutely losing it.

"MAX IS SO SAVAGE LMAO" "Y/N'S FACE JUST AGES A DECADE" "she's just like us" "SOMEONE CHECK ON Y/N SHE'S ABOUT TO HAVE A MELTDOWN"

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Swirly Pistachi-OH!

Max and Lando sat side by side, setting up a lobby to play a new game, both of them already gearing up for the chaos that would ensue. The vibe was relaxed, but that quickly shifted when the door opened, and Y/N walked in, looking absolutely fuming.

"Lando! I can't believe you. I've—"

Max immediately reaches over and mutes his mic, the tension in the room rising as both he and Max exchanged brief glances. Y/N didn’t even acknowledge them, her hands waving around, clearly heated about whatever had just happened. Her eyes locked onto Lando,

Lando can be seen reaching out to her, both now in deep conversation while Max sat there like a child caught in the middle of his parents arguing.

Lando can be seen running his hands through his hair, immediately reaching for his phone as she stormed off, clearly done with the argument.

Max, ever the opportunist, unmuted himself with a small sigh. “Alright, so… that argument?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It was about who ate her ice cream from the freezer”

Lando, still rubbing his temples in frustration, groaned. “Mate, keep your voice down, she has super hearing.”

Max burst into laughter, throwing his head back. “Chat’s probably thinking it’s something serious”

Before Lando could respond, the door slammed open again with a dramatic flair, and there stood Y/N, hands on her hips, eyes practically smoking with fury.

"It was swirly pistachi-oh— Fewtrell, you know how hard it is to get a hold of that!" she snapped, voice sharp as a knife.

Lando pursed his lips, doing his absolute best to hold back his laughter, but it was clear he was about to lose it. He could feel Max trying to hide his grin beside him, but Lando knew the minute Y/N saw him struggling, it was only going to make things worse.

Max, still processing, blinked a few times in disbelief. “Wait, like Lec’s swirly pistachio? Charles Leclerc’s?”

Y/N shot Max a look that could melt steel. “Yes, Max. Charles' ice cream. It sells out so fast around here, it’s like gold. And Lando—” she turned her glare to him, the look of death now firmly in place, “—decided to eat my stash. The whole thing. All of it.”

Lando couldn’t keep it in anymore and burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as the weight of the situation hit him. But the moment he saw Y/N's expression change—eyebrows raised, hands on her hips like she was ready to deliver an epic punishment—his laughter faltered.

Y/N squinted at him like he had just committed war crimes. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

Lando immediately stopped laughing and put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry, baby, please… Come here.”

But Y/N stood firm, not budging an inch. Her arms stayed crossed, her expression still ice-cold.

Lando’s smile faltered as he stood up to walk towards her. “Come on, my love… I already texted Charles to see if he can get us some more,” he said, doing his best to sound sweet and sincere, though the grin trying to form on his face was absolutely betraying him.

Y/N eyed him suspiciously, her lips pursed in the tightest line. “You texted Charles? Before apologizing to me?”

Lando hesitated, then shrugged sheepishly. “Well, he’s the pistachio supplier, isn’t he? Just trying to get the best deal for us.”

Max, now full-on crying from laughing, added, “You know, I think Charles might just have one last scoop left in his freezer. You’ve got to pull out the big guns, mate.”

Lando pulls her into a tight hug while shooting Max a glare that could only be described as a silent plea for mercy. But as Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, he knew he might just be getting out of this one alive… for now.

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The Accidental Moan

Lando and Max were deep into a heated game of Tarkov, and Y/N walked in, casually leaning against the doorframe, watching the two of them play. She walks over behind Lando’s chair, arms folded as she observed their chaotic gameplay.

Lando glanced up at her, offering a playful grin. “Hi, my love. Wanna grab a chair and join us?”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head, her fingers threading through Lando’s messy curls. “I’m good. Just making food right now. Came to check on you two.”

Max groaned from the other side of the room. “Perfect timing. I’m starving.”

Y/N laughed. “I know, you’ve been playing for hours.”

Lando leaned back in his seat, humming contentedly as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Mmm, that feels nice, baby,” he sighed, half-losing focus on the game as he relaxed into her touch.

Y/N grinned, her fingers still running through his hair. “Your hair’s a bit tangled, you know.”

Max snorted from the other side. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t seen a brush in weeks.”

Lando smirked, keeping his eyes on the screen but clearly enjoying the attention. “I like it like this.”

Y/N laughed lightly, “I’m sure you do.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the top of his head as he leaned into her touch.

“Alright, I gotta go check on the food,” Y/N said, pulling her hands away from his hair. But as she did, something unexpected happened.

Her fingers got caught in the tangles of his curls, and as she moved away, it pulled harshly, making Lando let out a loud, unintentional moan.

Max, mid-game, froze. His eyes widened in shock. “What the fuck was that?!”

Y/N froze too, her face immediately turning a shade of red. She stood there, staring at Lando, unsure how to recover.

Lando, now realizing exactly what just happened, doubled over in laughter, his face bright red. “I swear, it wasn’t what it sounded like,” he managed to say between fits of giggles.

Max, still shocked, looked from Lando to Y/N, his face full of disbelief. “Oh no, it was exactly what it sounded like”

Lando, trying to stop laughing but failing miserably, looked at Y/N. “Oh baby...” He burst into laughter again, shaking his head.

Y/N, standing frozen with her hands still awkwardly in the air, just shook her head, biting back a laugh herself. “I didn’t mean to—” she started but was cut off by Lando’s giggles. "You know what, i'm leaving" Y/N shakes her head as she rushes out of the room

Max and Lando, still laughing at the absurdity of the situation, wiped tears from their eyes. “I can’t—I can’t even focus now,” Max gasped, trying to regain his composure.

Lando, still chuckling, shook his head, attempting to steady himself. “Yeah, alright, I’m good. I’m good.”

They both took deep breaths, trying their best to get back into the game.

Max, still grinning like a Cheshire cat, clicked his tongue and looked at Lando. “So... hair pulling, huh?”

“Shut up, Max.”

"LANDO IS INTO HAIR PULLING" "max's face!" "POOR Y/N" "LANDO CAUGHT ON LIVE AGAIN"

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Make me pretty

Viewers slowly began to fill Max's stream, immediately flooding the chat with comments about the unusual setting. The camera was focused on Lando, who was sitting in a make-up chair, while Y/N stood off to the side, rummaging through a pouch.

Max clapped his hands and grinned. “Alright, chat, welcome!”

Lando flashed a smile and gave a small wave to the camera. “Bit of a different setup today, we managed to rent out a tiny studio for an impromptu shoot,” Max explained.

Y/N returned to stand between Lando’s legs, gently dabbing a make-up sponge on his face.

“Y/N’s the one making sure Lando looks presentable today,” Max added.

Lando tilted his head slightly, looking up at her with a soft smile. “Make me pretty, baby.”

Y/N chuckled, carefully applying concealer. “I can if you'd stop moving so much”

Max stood to the side, watching intently. “Can you make him look like Carlos?”

Y/N didn’t miss a beat, scoffing as she carefully worked on Lando’s face. “I said I can make him look pretty, Max, not like a Spanish model. I’m not God.”

Max choked back a laugh, and Lando’s jaw dropped as he stared at Y/N, utterly bewildered. “Are you saying Carlos looks so good you can’t even make me look remotely like him?”

Y/N shot him a playful smirk as she continued her work. “Took the words right out of my mouth, baby.”

Lando shakes his head, looking at the camera and pointing a finger at it. “My girlfriend, everybody…”

“I’m kidding, Lan, come on!” Y/N laughs, tilting his face back to look at her as she brushes powder onto his face. Lando scrunches up his nose. “That tickles.”

Y/N chuckles at his reaction, planting a quick peck on his nose. “All done. See? Gorgeous.”

Lando looks at himself in the mirror, nodding with satisfaction. “Damn, I look good.”

Y/N stops him from getting up. “I gotta do your hair, baby. Just a little longer.”

Lando glances at the clock and then back at her. “You gotta hurry up a bit, love. Need to do Max’s makeup too, and we both know that’s gonna take you nearly the whole day just to make him look half decent.”

Max, who’s been silently listening to the conversation, suddenly snaps. “Why the fuck am I catching strays? I haven’t said a word in the past five minutes!”

“Max, come on mate, look at you. You look ghastly. You feeling okay lately?” Lando grinned

Max shot him a glare, rolling his eyes. “You look ill, Lando. Have you seen yourself?”

Lando waved him off dramatically. “Seriously, Max. I’m getting worried here. You look like you need a bit more TLC. Maybe a nap... an exorcism?”

Max groaned. “I hate you. You’re so annoying.”

Lando smirked. “You’re annoying.”

Meanwhile, Y/N stood silently with a hairbrush in hand, staring at the camera. Her expression was a mix of exhaustion and quiet desperation, as if she was silently pleading for help from the viewers as the two continued to bicker like an old married couple. “Help me…” she muttered under her breath, eyes still locked on the camera.

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2 Hands

Lando and Max were on their respective twitch streams, playing a rather relaxed game of UNO. It wasn't until Max decided to cheekily check Lando's stream to sneak a peak of his cards.

What surprised him, however, was his friend who had an annoyingly smug smirk on his face, his other hand no where in sight. And his girlfriend, suspisciously sat quietly beside him, wrapped in a blanket.

"You naughty little shit"

Lando’s whole body tenses. Y/N immediately looks away, suddenly very interested in the chat messages scrolling by at the speed of light.

Max’s smirk widens. "Hand check. Right now"

Lando, the master of deflection, tries to laugh it off as he shows his hand that was once set on the mouse. "Mate, what do you mean? My hands are—"

"Nah nah nah, show me both hands. Now!"

The chat goes feral.

"MAX IS ONTO THEM." 🕵️‍♂️"Lando’s sweating LMAO.""Y/N LOOKS GUILTY ASF."

After a long, agonizing pause, Lando finally raises his hands, one noticeably slower than the other. Max absolutely loses it.

"YOU NASTY LITTLE FUCK!" he cackles, pointing accusingly.

"Oh come on Max it was just on her bo—"

"Lando!" Y/N shouts and hides their face in her hoodie, and chat is now 100% convinced they just witnessed history.

Max: 1 | Lando: -100 | Y/N: Applying for Witness Protection

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Sim-sanity

Lando and Y/N glances behind them as Max walks into the room, a couple of bags of food in hand, his face a mix of annoyance and hunger.

"You two should just throw your phones away, I've been trying to call you for an hour" Max grumbles, shaking his head as he drops the bags onto the table.

Y/N smirks, grabbing one of the bags. "Hello to you too, grumpy." She starts pulling out boxes of food, her attention split between Max and the chaos on Lando's screen.

Lando, who’s completely absorbed in his game, glances up just long enough to acknowledge Max. "Oh you're here"

Max eyes the screen, raising an eyebrow. "Oh nice, Y/N, you're finally sharing your Sims with the stream?"

Y/N rolls her eyes but keeps pulling food out of the bag, clearly not impressed. "That's Lando's Sim. I was supposed to play, but he hogged it."

Max laughs as he leans in, squinting at the characters on the screen. "Mate, is that you and Y/N? Hold up, they actually look like you two. It's kinda freaky..."

Lando grins, still not taking his eyes off the game. "Yeah, I found a pre-made version of me and spent hours making Y/N."

Y/N shrugs as she digs into her food, rolling her eyes again. "He wouldn’t even let me play. Spent hours on it and wouldn't let me touch it."

Lando, not missing a beat, taps his mic as if it’s a casual question. "Chat—should we hire a nanny for Livie or should I quit my job and stay home?"

Max freezes. "Who the hell is Livie?"

"Our kid, Max," Lando says, looking at him as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "Keep up."

Y/N looks at Max, nodding seriously. "Yeah, we’ve got two kids now."

Lando, eyes glued to the screen, clicks furiously as he navigates through the Sims world, completely absorbed in his virtual family.

Y/N and Max exchange amused glances, trying not to laugh at how seriously he’s taking the game.

"Kind of concerning how invested he is in this," Max says, his voice low, as he watches Lando’s furrowed brow. "He doesn’t even play VR golf with this much concentration."

Y/N, chuckling under her breath, leans back in her chair, shaking her head. "Oh, Max, no. He’s really invested. Don’t let the quiet fool you—he’s planning their whole life. I'm pretty sure our Sims' kids are more organized than we are."

Lando leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied grin. "Alright, baby, Livie’s grown enough, and Sim me just quit his job. Time to woohoo for our third baby," he says nonchalantly, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard as if he’s casually discussing his grocery list.

"You're mental"

3K notes · View notes

screampied · 7 months ago

Text

❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist.

“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.

“are you—”

“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”

with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”

“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”

you were quite literally living in luxury. .

as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.

despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.

just for you and no one else.

but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.

you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.

“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.

‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.

he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”

“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.

his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.

it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.

if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”

“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”

“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.

he remembered?

you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .

you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”

with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”

“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”

damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.

you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.

satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”

famous last words. .

because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.

he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.

not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.

you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.

satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.

“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.

you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”

“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.

fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.

tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.

he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.

“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.

both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.

his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.

at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.

satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.

“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.

you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.

satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”

“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”

“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.

your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.

with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.

as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.

there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .

that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.

“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.

“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”

“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.

it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”

as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”

“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.

satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.

he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.

the taste — it’s candied sweet.

the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”

satoru was still very much hard though—very.

you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.

he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.

but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.

“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”

“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.

even if it didn’t last that long,

the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.

satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.

“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.

for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.

satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”

“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.

with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”

“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.

satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”

and he did.

one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.

you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.

his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.

god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.

he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.

his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.

“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”

he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.

“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.

“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,

satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.

“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.

one, two, three . .

he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.

“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”

moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.

he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.

he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.

you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.

“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.

once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”

“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.

that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,

that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.

you were fucked, literally. .

“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.

as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.

every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.

‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.

it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.

the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.

you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’

every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.

satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.

“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.

he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”

“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”

“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.

he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.

as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.

satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”

a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.

satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.

“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”

as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.

“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”

and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.

you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.

you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.

satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.

“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”

“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.

you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.

he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”

“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”

“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.

satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.

“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.

he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.

but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.

he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”

his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .

you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.

satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.

the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.

oh, he’s whipped.

his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”

the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.

you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.

thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.

it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .

satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.

he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.

“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.

a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.

“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.

you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.

holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”

satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.

in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.

satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.

he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.

his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.

he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.

like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.

each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.

the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .

his favorite,

he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.

a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.

“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.

he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.

but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.

he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.

satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.

tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.

it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.

as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.

his heart was pounding,

telling him to say it - just say it.

but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.

“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.

you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.

the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.

“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”

7K notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months ago

Text

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Long.”

“My knees are killin’ me.”

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.”

“Better now that I’m home with you.”

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone.

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you.

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.”

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock.

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans.

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did.

Not even what he had done today on the job.

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby.

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it.

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day.

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too.

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him.

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.”

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass.

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.”

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby.

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest.

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke.

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out.

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin.

“I want one.”

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said.

“W-what?”

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.”

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality.

“Joel… Really?”

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-”

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear.

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin.

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?”

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?”

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.”

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness.

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs.

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans.

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby.

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?”

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?”

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs.

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.”

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only-

To get you pregnant.

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic.

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm.

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line.

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami.

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good.

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop.

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way.

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms.

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted.

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.”

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache.

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you.

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for.

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck.

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix.

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core.

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in.

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting.

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give.

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again.

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly.

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth.

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible.

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-”

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body.

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you.

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!”

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste.

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath.

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you.

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him.

“Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs.

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter.

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin.

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer.

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter.

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Joel.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin.

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.”

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.”

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting.

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

4K notes · View notes

sceletaflores · 4 months ago

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SINK IN ME WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

ೃ⁀➷ pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ wc: 7.0k

ೃ⁀➷ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, feral nasty unhinged logan yes god, logan only slightly losing his humanity but like it’s a lot less sad than it sounds, maybe some toxic relationship dynamics but who cares it’s porn, predator/prey dynamics, p in v, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, HEAVY scent kink (like don’t make me say it…but beware of some very subtle armpit stuff), pain kink, biting is just another form of sexual penetration guys, blood, so much come and come talk, creampie, squirting, this is just gross, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

ೃ⁀➷ nat's note: hi…hi y’all…so here’s the winner of the poll and i need everyone to just hear me out for a second! walk with me! this is probably the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, like omg those tags. this upsetting depravity was inspired by this post by @stupidfuckingwindow and this post by @monimccoythings which both altered the chemical balances of my brain so fiercely i blacked out for a while and when i came to this was in front of me. merry christmas and happy holidays! take this not at all christmas themed fic as my present to you my precious angels. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

you notice a strange shift in logan...

There’s something off with Logan.

The changes were subtle, but you’ve been with him long enough now to pick up on them. And while he's always had a raw, untamed edge to him, a sort of wildness simmering just beneath the surface, this feels different.

It started with the way he would go quiet for longer than usual, like his mind was too far away for you to reach—lost to somewhere distant.

Logan has always been quiet, but this was a different kind of silence. Conversations that used to flow with ease now hang in the air, unfinished. All of his responses reduced to nothing but low grunts and clipped words.

And he was more territorial over you, so much more.

His hand has started to linger at the small of your back or the curve of your waist for a lot longer when you’re in public, his strong grip firm enough to remind you—and anyone nearby—that you’re his.

He would fume at even the slightest hint of someone else's interest in you, a low warning growl escaping his throat to anyone who spared you a second glance.

It wasn’t just the physical closeness, though. It was also in the way Logan has started to watch you—his sharp gaze a never ending constant. An all imposing, heavily looming shadow.

There were even times late at night when you thought he was asleep, that you’d find him staring at you in the dark.

Not the usual, protective gaze he’d have when he thought you were vulnerable, but something deeper, more intense. His breathing would be slow, measured, but there was this energy, this tension that hummed between the two of you.

The nights he did manage to sleep, he’d hold you close to him, his grip iron-tight, his face buried in your hair. If you tried to shift away, even for a second, he’d stir, his arms pulling you back with a quiet, possessive growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

There were bite marks on your neck when you'd wake up, small enough to pass off as nothing—at least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself, but each one felt like a brand. They were deeper, more deliberate.

Then there was the scent—his scent.

You swear it’s gotten stronger, more potent. It clings to you like a second skin, lingering in your clothes, your sheets, even your hair. An intoxicating blend of leather and pine and musk that makes your head spin.

Each time you left the house without him, he’d pin you to the mattress and rub himself all over you before begrudgingly let you walk out the door. His hands or his face running along the delicate skin of your neck, of your stomach, of your wrists.

Everywhere.

He was claiming you in ways—new ways—that left you both exhilarated and confused.

There were other things too, smaller but no less odd things that were starting to add up.

More and more of your clothes have slowly started to go missing over the past few weeks. Each morning when you open any of your dresser drawers, it seems like there are less and less filling them.

Shirts, shorts, socks, bras, panties. All things you’ve found shoved under his side of the mattress or tucked under his pillow. The most memorable hiding place was the front pocket of his leather jacket, your favorite pair of panties haphazardly stuffed inside.

You haven’t said anything about it yet, unsure if you should be concerned or amused.

It isn’t like he’s truly hurting anyone.

He’s just acting…strange.

A part of you can’t help but be drawn to it—the new intensity, the new rawness. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way he clings to you, like you're his anchor in a world constantly shifting beneath his feet.

You’ve seen Logan at his worst—bloody, broken, and lost. But this? It’s never been like this before.

Whatever it is, it has its claws in him deep, and by extension, you.

You just got home from a run, barely walking through the door and kicking your shoes off when a call of your name rings out from the bedroom.

Logan’s tone stops you in your tracks—low and rough, like gravel crunching underfoot.

Your reaction is nearly instant, breath hitching in your chest, heart skipping a beat as a warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature outside starts to pulse through you steadily.

It’s like you’ve become reprogrammed to respond to him this way, your body reacting before your mind can even catch up as his deep, familiar voice rolls over the sweaty expanse of your skin.

You drop your bag at your feet and slowly make your way to the bedroom, a bead of sweat trailing down your temple as you push the door open.

All the curtains are closed, the only light in the room a yellow glow that shines from your bedside lamp.

Logan is sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his palms, but there’s nothing casual about his posture.

His gaze is locked on you, dark and intense, tracking every step you take, like a lion stalking a gazelle as it drinks from a watering hole.

“Didn’t tell me where you were going.” His eyes gleam as the lamp’s rays reflect off of them, his pupils dilated so he can see you better in the darkness that shrouds your room.

You swallow hard, trying to be as nonchalant as you can as your feet carry you to your dresser. “I went for a run,” you reply, your voice a little too steady, a little too casual.

You tug open the top drawer, rifling around for a clean shirt with a little more focus than necessary to distract yourself from the way his eyes burn a hole into your back.

“You didn’t tell me,” Logan repeats, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t know where my girl is.”

There’s a sharp edge to his words, but it’s not anger—it’s something far more primal.

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze.

"I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you."

You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs.

Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest.

“Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward.

The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus.

You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long."

Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip.

“Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a deep, gravelly purr. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.”

His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake.

You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry.

"Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out."

Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat."

His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it.

Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest.

He stops in front of you, so close that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser.

Your hold on the wood tightens, your knuckles turning white with the strength of your grip.

It’s almost chemical, the way you can feel your body start to give in to him. The thought fills you with as much arousal as it does unease, a heady combination that churns in your stomach.

You muster up enough will to breathlessly nod in agreement, a quiet submission.

Logan’s lips quirk into the faintest smirk, his heavy gaze dipping to the curve of your neck, lingering on the rapid flutter of your pulse. “That’s my good girl.”

Any words you might say get caught in your throat as you stare up at Logan, wide eyed and steadily leaking wetness into the gusset of your panties.

His nostrils flare, and a knowing sound rumbles from somewhere dark and low in his chest as his eyes flutter shut on a deep inhale.

Your thighs clench together instinctively, the overwhelming need to be filled wracking through your body like thunder.

When Logan opens his eyes again, there’s no trace of anything but pure animal need. The muscles in his jaw working furiously under his skin in time with the strain of his forearms still caging you in place.

“Yeah…” he trails off slowly, tone both condescending and soothing all at once. “I know you’re not all that scared, honey.”

He leans in, tearing a small whimper from your throat at the way his beard scrapes against your cheek as he crowds you.

His breath fans over the shell of your ear, hot and enticing as they brush against your skin when he speaks again. “I can smell how fuckin’ wet you are.”

Logan’s words send a sharp jolt through you, a broken moan falling from your parted lips as your cheeks heat up so fiercely it’s as if you’ve been slapped.

Your body moves without thinking, pressing up into his hard, unyielding frame like you can’t help it—and maybe you can’t.

“L–Logan…” Your voice trembles, a weak thing that dissolves in your throat as he noses along the skin of your neck.

His hands come down to rest on your waist, palms rough and possessive and warm and a perfect fit where they lay over your curves, anchoring you in place.

“Shhh.” His lips trail down your jaw, leaving wet kisses in their wake. “You don’t gotta say a thing, princess. I know what you need.”

Logan’s hands slip lower, cupping the backs of your thighs with ease before hoisting you onto the dresser like you weigh nothing. The sharp edge of the wood digs into your legs, but you can’t find it in yourself to care about the discomfort.

Your hands go to his shoulders without much of a second thought, nails digging into corded muscle as you try to keep your balance.

Logan’s hands stay on your thighs, his grip strong enough for you to feel the power behind them without hurting you.

He noses along your sweaty skin like a hot-tempered hound, desperately inhaling greedy lungfuls of your scent wherever he can get it.

Behind your ear, in the crook of your neck, along your collarbone, the exposed swell of your breasts, dangerously close to your underarm.

He groans against your shoulder, a full body shiver jolting his frame. “Smell so fuckin’ good darlin’, drives me goddamn crazy.”

You can’t form a coherent thought, let alone a response. His mouth finally finds yours, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

Logan's tongue slides against yours, a messy, desperate kiss that has you moaning into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

It’s filthy, fueled by nothing but raw need and desperation. Spit drips from your chin to trail down the length of your throat until it gathers in the valley of your breasts. Whether it’s his or yours, it doesn’t matter.

It’s a perfect mix of the both of you, lewd and messy in the way it claims your skin.

Logan breaks the kiss with a low moan, his chest heaving the same as yours as you both inhale harsh lungfuls of air.

His lips are red and raw, swollen in a way that your own must mirror. A string of saliva keeps you connected, drooping thinner and thinner in the space between you until it breaks under the weight of gravity.

Logan doesn’t give you long to catch your breath. His lips trail down your jaw and latch onto the sensitive spot just below your ear, teeth scraping against skin before he sucks hard enough to leave a mark.

Your head falls back against the wall as his mouth moves lower, dragging the strap of your sports bra down with his teeth.

The way he’s acting—like a man crazed, like he needs you more than he needs air—has you dizzy with need. But there's a part of you that’s still trying to hold onto some semblance of control, to hold onto something familiar in the chaos.

It’s only then that you realize this may be a bad idea.

Whatever this is, is clearly an accumulation of all the things you’ve noticed over the last couple of weeks.

Maybe indulging Logan will only make things worse, like giving in to him when he’s in such a state could be the tipping point to a much deeper and all consuming issue buried somewhere inside of him.

It can’t possibly be healthy for him to act like this, and it can’t be healthy for you to bask in it as much as you are.

“W–wait.” Your thighs slip shut, hands coming up to push at Logan’s shoulders weakly.

There’s no real force behind your ministrations and you keep your neck bared to him all the while, but he stops anyway, rearing back with a displeased noise.

His face hovers inches from yours, and for a moment, you swear he looks almost pained—his brows furrowing, jaw tightening as though reigning himself in is a Herculean effort.

His hands remain on your thighs, trembling slightly as he keeps himself rooted in place, clearly fighting every instinct roaring through him to just take what he wants.

“You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the restraint in his expression. His thumbs stroke idly against your skin, his touch soothing even as his words drip with pure, feral confidence. “I can smell the way your pussy’s achin’ for it. I can feel it. You’re shakin’ for me.”

You are—your whole body feels like it’s on the verge of unraveling under his touch, your resolve crumbling faster than you’d like to admit.

Everything you were going to say gets clogged in your brain on the way out, leaving you silent as you hold his gaze.

You don’t even have the capability to feel embarrassed at the way you blanch, lost in the way his scent attacks your senses, in the rough drag of his palms over your bare thighs, in the way your lips still tingle from his kiss.

Logan sighs, long and all suffering as his hands come to rest on both of your shut knees. The impatient raise of his brow paired with the dissatisfied curl of his lips is enough to shake you to the core.

“Now, you gonna show it to me?” His fingers drum along your knee, his patience thinning. “Or am I gonna have to make you.”

And it may sound like one, but you know it’s not a question.

It’s a choice.

Your mind races, hands clenching and unclenching on Logan’s shoulders as you weigh your options. His own hands squeeze your knees, just hard enough to let you feel it in your bones.

You spread your legs.

Logan doesn’t waste a second, dropping to his knees in front of you with a satisfied rumble and a predatory gleam in his eyes. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them even wider. Wide enough to make you feel exposed, vulnerable in the best way.

Your head dips, chin falling to your chest as you watch the way Logan takes up the space between your legs. Your shorts are soaked, fabric so drenched that it’s melded to the shape of your cunt, your puffy folds on display for his greedy eyes.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes, his voice cracking like a whip in the quiet room. His hands find your waistband, and the dull sound of fabric ripping rings out.

The sturdy cotton tears like tissue paper in his hands, the scraps of your shorts falling carelessly to the floor, leaving you in nothing but the light blue panties you slipped on before your run.

The way he gazes at the space between your thighs is feral, unrestrained, like he’s a man starving for his next meal—and you’re it.

“Look at that…” Logan mutters, almost to himself as he runs his knuckle along the wet cotton of your panties. His touch is featherlight, barely any pressure at all, but it’s enough.

Your breath hitches, a sharp intake of air at the teasing touch, and your hips instinctively cant forward, silently begging for more.

Logan's eyes flick up to yours, a dark smirk curling his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you—and how much you're already falling apart.

“Eager fuckin’ thing,” he drawls, voice rough with arousal. He leans forward, his hot breath ghosting over your soaked panties, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You want me to give your pussy some kisses, baby?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words never make it out. Logan’s lips press against the damp fabric, placing a kiss right over where your covered clit throbs with need.

Your head falls back to rest on the wall behind you, a shocked moan bursting from your lips.

“Logan.” His name is pulled from your mouth like a plea, but he doesn’t let up, the sharp edge of his teeth scraping over the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath the soaked barrier of your underwear.

“Hmm?” He hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core. “Thought you wanted me to stop?”

The taunt is maddening, the rasp of his voice and the teasing flicks of his tongue combining to unravel you piece by piece.

You shake your head furiously, thighs trembling where they rest on his broad shoulders. “N-no—don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Logan chuckles darkly, his hands sliding up your thighs to hook his fingers into the thin waistband of your panties.

“That’s more like it,” he taunts. With a single, sharp tug, the ruined fabric joins the scraps of your shorts on the floor.

Logan groans at the sight of your bare cunt, slick with your juices and flushed with arousal. His mouth waters, his tongue running along the sharp points of his canines in anticipation.

You’re already so ready for him.

“You smell so fuckin’ good,” he growls, leaning in to drag his nose along the slick seam of your folds. The deep inhale he takes is obscene, sending a ripple of anticipation through your entire body. “Know that you taste even better.”

Logan licks a broad stripe through your folds, groaning like the taste of you is enough to satisfy him completely. His hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you spread and utterly at his mercy as he begins to work in earnest.

He alternates between laving the tip of his tongue over your clit and dipping down to fuck into you, his beard scraping along the skin of your thighs in a way that’s almost too much. Your head falls back, hitting the wall with a soft thud as your vision blurs.

“God, Logan.” You squirm on the vanity, but he holds you steady, growling low and deep into your core like your moaning only spurs him on.

“That’s it,” he mutters between licks, his words unmistakably smug. “Make those pretty little sounds for me, baby.”

Logan circles your clit with the flat of his tongue, alternating between firm, deliberate strokes and light, teasing flicks that leave you gasping for air.

You cry out, fingers tangling in his thick, unruly hair as he repeats the motions, your thighs starting to tremble on either side of his head.

Every time your hips buck against him, he growls, the vibrations of it sinking into your skin and amplifying the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Stay still,” he orders, his voice muffled against your dripping core but no less commanding. His hands tighten on your thighs, holding you in place with an unrelenting grip. “You’re not in charge, sweetheart.”

You whimper, your whole body trembling as you fight the urge to grind against his face. But it’s impossible to stay still when he’s licking into you like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with an intensity that has your vision going hazy.

“I know, you're just so damn needy, aren’t you, baby?” He drawls , pulling back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your arousal. “You love this, hmm? Lettin’ me take care of you?”

You can only nod, words failing you as his fingers replace his mouth, sliding through your spit soaked cunt.

“You’re so goddamn pretty down here.” Logan mutters, almost to himself, spreading your puffy, abused folds obscenely wide.

He teases your entrance, fingertips dipping into your warm heat only to retract a second later. You whine, high and embarrassing as your hips twitch with want.

Logan watches your face closely, his expression equal parts smug and adoring as he finally sinks one thick finger inside you, curling it just right.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your head lolling back he adds a second finger, stretching you in a way that has your toes curling. He pumps them slowly at first, each deliberate thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Takin’ me so well,” Logan murmurs, his thumb brushes over your clit, drawing tight circles that make your thighs tremble. “So tight and wet for me. You’re makin’ me crazy, darlin’.”

Your moans grow louder, unrestrained, as he picks up the pace, his fingers plunging into you with a rhythm that has your skin burning hotter and hotter.

Logan’s mouth returns to you with renewed fervor, tongue and lips working in perfect tandem as he drags you closer to the edge.

He shakes his head back and forth like an animal, his nose rubbing up against your clit deliciously as buries his tongue as deep in your cunt as it’ll go. The coarse hair of his beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thighs red and raw.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, your entire world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you.

“Logan—” Your voice cracks, your head falling back against the wall as the spring of pleasure inside you winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. “I’m—fuck—I’m so close—”

“Good,” he growls, pumping his fingers in time with the flicks of his tongue. “I can feel you squeezin’ me. I want you to come for me, baby. Wanna taste every fuckin’ drop.”

You’re powerless to resist.

You cry out, thighs clamping shut on either side of his head as you come on his tongue. Your body shakes so violently you knock a few things off the vanity, the distant sound of glass shattering hardly registers.

Logan growls, low and dragged from the back of his throat in such a way that makes it reverberate in the space between your legs. His own arms come up, grip strong and encouraging as he forces your legs around his head even tighter than before.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, licking and sucking and pumping his fingers to drag you through the aftershocks like a man obsessed.

When you finally come back to yourself, panting and trembling, Logan’s holding your shaking thighs apart, his mouth still pressed to you in soft, languid strokes.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, voice rough and gravelly as he presses a final kiss to your oversensitive clit.

Logan’s hands slide up to your hips, gripping tight as he rises to his feet, towering over you with that same dark, predatory gleam in his eyes.

His lips are even redder than before, swollen and slick with your juices. His beard is damp and shining in the low light, and the smug, satisfied smirk on his face sends another pulse of heat through your already spent body.

“Good girl,” he purrs, not even bothering to wipe his mouth before leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that’s all heat and possession.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, the salt and musk mingling with the raw hunger. It’s filthy and intoxicating, and it leaves you gasping for air when he finally pulls away.

But Logan’s far from finished.

His hands slide under your ass, lifting you off the dresser with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries you to the bed and tosses you on it with little preamble.

Your back hits the mattress hard enough to have you bouncing on it once, twice, three times before Logan is crawling up to blanket your body with his.

The heavy weight of his metal laced bones sink you into the soft plushness, keeping you stuck beneath him with nowhere to go.

Which you know is exactly where he wants you.

He slots his hips between yours, dragging the straining jut of his cock along your sensitive cunt. You can feel the warmth of him even through the thick material of his sweats, a scalding plane of heat that makes your cunt ache with need.

You can feel the damp patch where his clothed tip nudges against your clit, and you know from that alone he’s already soaked through the cotton with pre-come. His cock leaking like a faucet in the harsh confines of his bottoms while he ate you out.

“Feel that?” Logan asks, voice hoarse as he buries his head in your neck. “That’s all ‘cause of you, baby. Got me drippin’ like I busted a damn pipe.”

The sharp intake of air you suck in at his words does nearly nothing to help your breathlessness, your desperation bleeding through as your frantic hands push at the waistband of his bottoms. “Off. Off.”

Logan huffs a rough laugh against your neck, his warm breath skating across your skin as his lips ghost over your pulse. “So fuckin’ bossy.”

He doesn’t move to help you, not right away, savoring the way your hands fumble and tug, your frustration bubbling over in breathy little gasps.

“You want it that bad, huh?” he teases, the rough timbre of his voice a stark contrast to the gentleness of his lips pressing along your jaw. “Look at you, so damn needy. Can’t even wait for me to get my cock out.”

You only tug harder, patience nonexistent as your fingers curl into the waistband. “Please, Logan. Don’t tease.”

“Alright, alright.” Logan finally gives in, sitting back just enough to push them over his hips, freeing his cock.

It springs free, slapping against his stomach heavy and slick with pre-come, the ruddy tip glistening in the low light.

The sight alone has you clenching around nothing, a devastatingly desperate noise falls from your lips as the ache between your thighs builds to an almost unbearable throb.

He makes quick work of ripping his shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it behind him before he’s back on you.

This time, when he bullies his hips in between yours, there's nothing separating you.

You feel every inch of his cock as it grinds along the seam of your cunt. The velvety skin is almost scalding as it drags against your own, the drool of pre-come only adding more to your own wetness.

Logan presses you into the mattress harder, rutting against your cunt almost desperately as he noses along your damp, overheated skin.

His mouth is everywhere. Sucking marks where the junction of your neck meets your shoulder, lapping up the sweat that pools in the valley of your breasts, licking a filthy stripe across the side of your face that has your cheeks burning.

He buries his nose in the sweaty skin of your underarm, whining and panting like a surly dog all over again. Each breath is hot and wet against you, and it only seems to make him hungrier, greedier. His cock blurts even more pre-come onto your skin with every inhale he takes.

It should gross you out.

It should be utterly mortifying, but the sight of Logan like this only leaves you thrumming with want.

His desperation, the raw, unfiltered way he takes you in—like he can’t get close enough, can’t have enough of you—has your pulse racing and your mind spinning out of control.

You feel his nose press harder against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over you as he groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates right through you.

“Fuck,” he rasps, voice gravelly and broken. “You smell so goddamn good. Can’t help it. Can’t fuckin’—” His hips jerk, the weight of his cock sliding slickly against your cunt, bumping up against your clit in a way that makes you shiver.

“Logan,” you whimper, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing the friction, the relief, the unbearable stretch you know only he can give you. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need you—need you so bad.”

He smirks, his lips curling against your skin as he nips at the curve of your jaw. “Need me, huh?” he murmurs, his tone dark and teasing. “Need my cock inside you, stretchin’ you open? Tell me, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.”

“So bad.” Your hips tilt up instinctively, desperate for him to push inside. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, the blunt pressure sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Need you so bad it hurts. Please—please don’t make me wait.”

Logan growls, a feral sound. “Such a good girl when you beg for me.” he snarls, big hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise so he can flip you on your front, gently manhandling you until you're on all fours. “Gonna fill you up, princess.”

His hands knead the soft flesh of your ass as he lines himself up behind you. The weight of his cock presses against your entrance, slick and ready, and for a moment, he just stays there, teasing.

Your arms shake beneath you, elbows locked as you force yourself to stay still, patient.

The head of his cock nudges against you, spreading your slickness, and your body trembles in anticipation. He sinks himself into you in one deep, unrelenting thrust.

The stretch is instant, the burn delicious as he pushes inside, inch by inch, filling you in one fluid, devastating stroke. A choked gasp spills from your lips as he bottoms out, his cock seated so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck.” Logan stills, his cock pulsing inside you as he lets you adjust, but the restraint is fleeting.

His hands glide up your back, palms rough and grounding as they map every curve, every quiver of your body. He starts grinding his hips in slow circles, pressing every inch of his cock along your velvety walls.

Your head drops between your arms, brows pinched together as you take in greedy lungfuls of air. You’ll never get used to this, the way Logan fills you so perfectly, no matter how many times it’s been.

“Come on, baby.” Logan leans down to press a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, his lips fever hot. “You wanted to fuck me so bad you could hardly wait. Now’s your chance, fuck me.”

It takes a few long seconds for his words to cunt through the molasses clouding your mind, the small thrust of his hips hinting at what he wants you to do.

You let out a pitiful whimper, hands digging into your bed’s puffy comforter as you start rocking your hips.

You start slow, letting yourself build up a nice, steady rhythm as Logan purrs words of encouragement from behind you. His hands never leave your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your skin as you start to pick up the pace.

“That’s it,” he encourages darkly, giving the rippling muscle of your ass a sharp swat. “Find the fuckin’ spot, baby. Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

You cry out at the sting of his palm, bouncing yourself on his length impossibly faster. Your arms burn under the strain of your movements, but you can’t stop chasing the high of pleasure that shoots up your spine.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, a lewd slap slap slap as you fuck yourself on Logan’s cock like he’s a replacement for the cheap suction cup dildo collecting dust in a box hidden away in your closet—like he’s nothing but a expertly shaped lump of silicon molded solely for your pleasure.

You can feel yourself getting close to the edge, and in nearly no time at all. The telltale coil buried deep in your belly winding tighter and tighter as you work yourself on Logan’s cock hard enough that the cheap frame of your bed thumps against the wall.

It might be embarrassing if you weren’t so far gone already, so fuck drunk that the too loud moans falling from your lips hardly phase you.

It's like there's nothing but the feel of Logan inside you, bumping against that spot inside you that has stars shining behind your closed eyes.

“Close already?” Logan taunts from behind you, voice just the tiniest but breathless, but the way his cock pulses and jerks where it’s sheathed in your cunt lets you know he’s right there with you. “I know you are, honey. I can feel how she’s squeezin’ me, so damn tight.”

His hands dig into your hips, not even waiting for a response as he starts thrusting in time with your bounces. He pounds into you, hips snapping against your ass hard enough to sting.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come too baby,” he bites out, the rhythm of his hips getting sloppier. “Gonna come so fuckin’ hard, fill you up so good. Shit��”

Logan pulls out enough that only the thick tip of his cock stays sheathed in the warmth of your cunt, his body falling to hunch over yours as he pumps his come into you with a feral growl.

You whine at the feeling of his release filling you, painting your insides with spurt after spurt of thick come. It’s so much, it’s always so much. A rush of warmth that floods your insides each time without fail.

And just like that, the feeling alone has you coming.

Your back arches as your cunt gushes over the tip of his cock, drenching his thighs and the rest of his shaft in your essence. You think you may scream, but it’s hard to tell over the white noise rushing through your ears.

Your arms finally buckle under you as Logan helps you ride out the last few tremors of your orgasm with a few slow rocks of his hips, and your spent body collapses onto the mattress.

Logan’s low noises of pleasure barely register as your chest heaves almost violently, your lungs desperately trying to get as much air as they possibly can.

But you barely have time to catch your breath before Logan plants his knees back firmly on the mattress and starts thrusting, again.

“Logan!” Your hands scramble for purchase on the mussed sheets of your bed, the overstimulation making your legs kick out frantically.

“You thought we were done?” Logan asks, his tone equal parts amused and mocking. “You popped twice already, baby. S’only fair that you let me catch up.”

With no warning, he takes you in his arms, pulling his cock out just long enough to flip you on your back. He throws your legs over his shoulders before plunging back inside your fucked open cunt with a filthy squelch.

He feels even bigger like this, yet your body swallows his cock like it’s nothing. The spongy warmth of your walls melding to the shape of him like it’s what you were made for.

The coarse hair of his happy trail drags across your clit each time he thrusts, adding to the blistering feeling where the knife's edge of too much too much too much meets not nearly enough.

His come stuffed in your trembling cunt only makes it all the more filthy, his cock plunging inside you and coming back out slick and wet on every thrust.

Your lips fall open on a broken moan, eyes screwing shut as you work your cunt around him, feeling the way his release gets fucked deeper and deeper inside you.

Logan notices, of course he does.

A dark chuckle rumbles against your own as he leans down enough to whisper into your slack mouth. “You like havin’ someone come in your pussy, baby?”

You moan into his mouth unabashedly, loudly. Both of your eyes burning as tears threaten to fall down the flushed skin of your cheeks, your throat going dry and scratchy in the best way possible.

“Shit–” Your hands claw at the rippling muscles of his back desperately, nails digging into his skin hard enough that you feel the unmistakable slickness of his blood coating the tips of your fingers.

The pain spurs him on, his head tips down on a low groan and his eyes squeezing together for a split second before he’s spewing filth again.

“You want some more?” Logan asks, tone going dark like he already knows the answer as his hips speed up impossible faster. “You want me to come again?”

You don’t respond, you can’t respond. You can barely make a coherent thought.

All you can manage are whiny moans that fall from your slack lips, broken little uh uh uh’s that get punched out with each new thrust. Your nails rake down his back mercilessly, leaving behind deep red welts that heal as you go.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He turns his head to nip at the skin over the delicate bone of your ankle where it bounces near his head, sharp teeth digging in enough to have you whining pitifully. “You love havin’ a messy fuckin’ pussy, don’t you? Love being stuffed so full of my come you can’t even hold it all, huh?”

His words hit you like a physical blow, lighting up your body from the inside out. Your thighs shake where they’re wrapped around his hips, ankles locking over his lower back so he couldn’t pull out if he wanted to.

His come mixes with your juices to coat his cock, completely drenched all slick and shiny in the dull light of your bedroom. It drips down almost leisurely compared to the near feral snap of his hips, trailing all the way down his length to his heavy balls.

“Yes.” He groans, reverent. “Give it to me, baby. Wanna feel you come on my cock again, feels so fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough—”

You’ve never heard him like this, so high of pleasure that his speech slurs and his words all meld together into one filthy stream of ramblings that has you sinking your nails even deeper into his back and coming on his cock with a loud wail.

Your cunt convulses around him, shaking with the force of your release, milking him.

“Fuck, princess.” Logan pitches forward, his sweaty torso covering yours as he keeps fucking into your shaking body, desperately chasing his own release.

Finally, with a muted roar of your name, he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of your neck and comes for you.

You cry out at the sharp sting of his teeth bearing down hard enough to draw blood, your vision whiting out with the pleasure of being claimed in every way imaginable.

Logan’s hips only stop when he’s drained of every last drop, his body shaking where it lays over yours. He laps at the broken skin of your neck, a soft gesture that isn’t quite an apology for making you bleed—because you know that he isn’t sorry whatsoever—but it’s nice nonetheless.

Your arms come up to circle around his neck, eyes fluttering shut as the exhaustion hits you all at once. You get lost in the steady rhythm of Logan catching his breath, in the way his heart pounds against his ribcage where his chest is pressed to your own, in the way his fingers twitch and flex on your hips.

The last thing you hear as you drift off, his come starting to leak down your thighs in thick streams of white, is a hushed whisper of “I got you, baby. I’m right here, I’m always right here.”

It puts you at ease, all the worry you felt over the last few weeks slipping from your mind like grains of sand through your fingers.

Maybe, this new side of Logan isn’t so bad after all.

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