So Fucking Good - Tumblr Posts

pairing: wanda maximoff x wanda maximoff

summary: wanda meets herself while opening a portal for another bottle of wine, decides "fuck it" and has sex with her other multiversal self

content warnings: wanda fucking herself, and then being fucked... by herself. cunnilingus, fingering, restraints, nipple clamps, vibrator, strap-on sex, mirror sex, subtle choking, begging, overstimulation

word count: 10.6k+

this was requested by a lovely anon!

masterlist

Seeing Double

The walls flicker, the flashing scenes on the television spreading across the room, creating a harsh shadow on the figure seated on the couch. The sounds of nonsensical chattering from the characters on screen fill the silent room, a theme song ringing out as another episode starts playing. 

Long fingers reach for the empty glass sitting on the coffee table, grazing the cup before reaching past it and grabbing the wine bottle directly. A few swallows later and Wanda finishes the entire bottle, staring down at it as she processes. The last remnants of the slightly sugary wine slide down her throat, warming her belly as she unfurls her magic throughout the house. 

Green eyes turn scarlet as wisps of magic search the different cabinets of the small kitchen. They wrap around each shelf, and Wanda lets a small frown onto her face when she realizes that she’d gone through her last bottle of wine. She calls her magic back, admiring the way it twists around her fingers as she sinks further into the couch. 

Picking at a loose thread on her sweater, she realizes that she’s wearing her old Avengers crewneck. Wanda lets the wine bottle slip from her fingers as she remembers the day she received it. Natasha had been the one to give it to her, presenting it all nice and folded and giving her a rare smile. She’d finally understood what it meant to have a team, to have a family, and Wanda blinks when realizes that she’s smiling slightly as she reminisces. 

Shaking those melancholic thoughts away, Wanda feels the wine she’d consumed spread throughout her body, warming her up to the very tips of her fingers. It was rather unfortunate that she’d finished that wine, it was one-of-a-kind. Thor himself had brought it to her, after Vision had died, saying something about celebrating life as she’d taken the bottle with trembling hands. She’d stashed it deep in her cellar, behind some random boxes, but had recently found it and decided, why not?

In her tipsy state, Wanda let her magic roam freely, taking a deep breath as the restricting feeling of reigning in her magic disappeared. She sends out a mental apology to Stephen, knowing that she was breaking his strict rules about her magic use. 

Honestly, you try to take power from one teenage girl, and all of a sudden you’re a villain?

Wanda scoffs to herself, absentmindedly opening a portal in search of some more wine. Preferably something strong enough to send her to bed early, as the night was still young and her thoughts too raw to handle. She searches for a few moments, before a tug at her magic causes her to halt. 

Pausing, Wanda forces herself to focus as she feels yet another tug at her magic. It felt almost… familiar? Her brows furrow, her back straightening as she sits up on the couch, watching the portal spark in front of her. 

It seemed to be leading into a kitchen of some sorts, one that looked well decorated, similar to her own, yet significantly larger. Wanda tilts her head, feeling that same strong sensation pull at her magic, something soft yet commanding. She narrows her eyes, finally pinpointing the strand of her magic that was connected to the familiar pull, and tugs. 

Something in the portal shifted, and Wanda tenses in anticipation, her heart thudding as her gaze sharpens. A figure moves closer, and Wanda’s eyes meet a very familiar pair of green eyes as a woman walks through the portal. With an absentminded flick of her fingers, the strange woman closes the portal, and Wanda feels yet another tug at her magic. 

“Who…?” The words die in Wanda’s throat as the woman turns to face her head-on. 

No fucking way. 

Wanda feels as though she is trapped in a trance, her eyes raking over the other woman standing in her living room. It was like looking into a mirror, except this version of her had brown hair, and not quite as many wrinkles around her eyes. She is wearing a similar crewneck, hers a faded green color, instead of the red one currently hugging Wanda’s frame. 

The only thought running through Wanda’s slightly-tipsy, definitely-not-thinking-clearly brain was that the other woman looked rather hot. One might even say, stunning. She couldn’t help staring at the woman’s chest, having seen that chest in the mirror a thousand times. Except, it was different somehow, seeing her chest on another person. 

Fuck, was she attracted to this?

“Hi,” The smooth voice startles Wanda out of whatever trance she’s lost herself in, and she hurriedly moves her eyes away from the other woman’s chest, meeting sparkling green eyes. The shade was familiar, and Wanda couldn't help but match the soft smile the other woman wore. 

Those green eyes slowly trace a path down Wanda’s body, leaving trails of fire that ricochet under her skin. She squirms, feeling slightly hot all of a sudden, unused to someone's attention being solely focused on her. 

“I apologize,” The woman starts, holding up her hand. In it, is a bottle of wine, and Wanda feels her eyes light up as she subconsciously uses her magic to bring another glass over. “You must be wondering who I am.”

Wanda snorts, feeling her limbs loosen as she slides the glasses over towards her counterpart. “I think I have a pretty good idea who you are.”

Pointedly looking the other woman up and down, Wanda matches the smirk on the brunette’s face, before blinking at the absurdity of her own face staring back at her. She watches her grab the glasses, her long fingers wrapping around the stem as a wisp of scarlet magic pops the cork off of the wine she’d brought. 

“Well,” The woman begins, pouring two glasses. The wine is dark, and Wanda couldn’t wait to have a taste, her tongue quickly swiping over her bottom lip. “My name is Wanda, but you knew that already.” 

She pauses, taking a step closer to Wanda, who fidgets slightly on the couch. Handing her one of the now-filled glasses of wine, the brunette feels her counterpart's soft fingers graze her own as she accepts the glass. A spark runs down both their arms, and they both raise their eyebrows at the same time, the movement mirrored exactly on the other’s face in a slightly eerie fashion. 

“I heard your call, although it rather felt like a strong tug on my magic.” The other Wanda begins, sitting down next to Wanda. She tries not to think about how their legs brush, the heat of the other woman’s thigh sending a different kind of heat racing towards her core. 

The other woman shifts again, and Wanda belatedly realizes that her eyes are locked on the same lips as her own. She’d never noticed just how kissable they seemed, it seemed that this night was full of self discovery and pleasant surprises. 

At the sound of a throat clearing, Wanda snaps out of her daze, her eyes locking with a matching pair of green ones. A familiar looking smirk plays on her counterpart's lips, and Wanda blinks rapidly as she distracts herself by sipping from her glass. 

The wine tastes smooth, rich but not too heavy. Wanda feels her eyebrows steadily rising as she savored the taste of her first sip. She pointedly avoids eye contact with the other woman, feeling slightly intimidated by this other version of herself. She seems a lot more confident in herself, all grace and power with each movement, and Wanda tries not to think about the old crewneck she was wearing, or the comfortable joggers she wears that brush gently against the other woman’s expensive looking slacks. 

“Good?” The voice is low, and Wanda can hear traces of her own Sokovian accent as the woman speaks.

Strengthening her resolve, Wanda raises her eyes, feeling as though she was having a slightly out-of-body experience as she meets those eyes. The same ones that look back at her when she dared look in a mirror, green and tired. So very tired, but still sparkling. She wonders what the other version of herself had been through. 

“Yes, thank you.” Wanda falters then, not quite knowing what to say. Her counterpart also looks at quite a loss for words, but stretches out slightly on the couch, her posture relaxed. Her arm reaches out, her fingers tentatively splaying on Wanda’s forearm as her eyes search the other’s for permission. 

Wanda licks her lips, tasting the remnants of her last sip of wine, before taking a bigger gulp and leaning fully towards the other woman. She smiles, but just with her eyes, her lips parted slightly as she felt her heart race. Fuck, she was actually really attractive. She wonders if her counterpart was different from herself, or if she just didn’t see her own body the way she was seeing it now. 

Shaking her head, Wanda brushes the confusion aside, wanting to focus solely on her counterpart. The other woman rests her own glass on her thigh, her hand firmer against Wanda’s forearm as her fingers trace nonsensical patterns into the soft fabric. Her eyes seem slightly unfocused, an adorable crinkle between her eyebrows as she slides her gaze over Wanda’s form. 

“So,” Wanda begins, feeling her nerves start to dissipate at the soft glow in her counterpart’s eyes. She leans in, putting her own hand against the other woman’s shoulder, feeling grounded slightly at her other self’s solid form beneath her fingertips. “Tell me all about your timeline, and I’ll share about mine?”

They share a smile, and Wanda relaxes fully as her counterpart begins speaking. She enjoys the sound of her voice, similar to her own but lower, with a slightly raspy undertone. She resolves to practice that voice later, when nobody can hear her. For now, she’s content to listen and learn about the other Wanda’s timeline. 

—

‘Holy shit, I’m actually really cool.’ 

Wanda’s glass is empty, her other self’s glass having been discarded to the floor a long time ago. They’re seated so close to each other that an outsider would have called it cuddling, their hands wandering over each other absentmindedly as they speak. It was nice, having someone touch her, even if it was just gentle fingers tracing every inch of her as eyes filled with wonder take her in. 

A hand makes its way around her waist, tracing the gentle curve there as Wanda watches those green eyes linger around the waistband of her joggers. A few fingers slip softly under the slight crop of her crewneck, warm against her skin, and Wanda feels herself flush under the sudden intense focus.

Suddenly needing a distraction, Wanda clears her throat, feeling as though a spotlight was thrust upon her when the other woman’s dark green eyes snap towards hers. “So, I don’t really know what to call you…”

Trailing off, Wanda watches her counterpart tilt her head, a look of confusion in her eyes. 

“Just call me my name.” The woman says, and holy fuck that demanding tone did something to Wanda. Her gaze is stifling, her eyes hot as she watches Wanda open her mouth a few times, her fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against the soft skin of her waist. 

“But… I’m Wanda.” She knows her voice has a slight whine to it, but Wanda can’t bring herself to care. Her brain is starting to hurt, the lines blurring slightly in her mind as she attempts to categorize herself and the other version of herself that stepped through her portal. 

Firm fingers stroke her cheek, resting on her temple as Wanda’s brain halts at the touch. The other woman watches her, feeling Wanda’s breaths slow down as her green eyes start to look less panicked. “You can call me…” She thinks for a moment, her eyes unfocusing as she looks somewhere over Wanda’s left shoulder. 

“Scarlet?” Wanda’s voice is soft, a single eyebrow raised as she waits for a response. 

“Because I’m the truest version of the Scarlet Witch?” The other woman’s tone is dry, her eyebrows raised in an unimpressed manner as she watches Wanda’s expression mirror her own. “How original.” 

Gently shoving at the hand still pressed against her cheek, Wanda lets a small smile onto her lips as she looks around for her glass of wine. Scarlet stretches, her hand still wrapped around Wanda’s waist, her fingers twitching as she lets out a large sigh. Wanda tries to ignore the slight blush she knows is creeping up onto her face, and picks up the now-empty bottle of wine. 

Raising the bottle up so Scarlet can see, she lets it dangle loosely from her fingers before she drops it back onto the floor. Green eyes find hers, and Wanda decides that she will not lose whatever game they’re playing. This is her own fucking universe, she will not be bested at mere flirting. 

Reaching a hand out as casually as she can, Wanda tucks some of the silky, reddish-brown hair behind Scarlet’s ear, smirking when she sees the slight flush in the tips of her ears. Pietro had always made fun of her for that, telling her that her blush always started in her ears. It was nice to see that didn’t change even in other universes.

They sit in the moment for a beat, before Scarlet’s eyes light up, and Wanda can’t remember the last time she saw such an excited expression on her own face. It was refreshing to see. The woman turns to her, her fingers wrapping around Wanda’s wrists in excitement as she pulls her into a standing position. 

“Let’s go out. It’s a big city right? There must be something we can do for fun.” Her voice is still deep, her tone raspier than ever as her accent bleeds through, and Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever heard a lovelier sound. 

“I don’t have many outfits for a night out,” Wanda’s tone is regretful, as images of dancing in some dark club flash through her mind. She finds herself wishing that she could spend more time with… herself? What an interesting thought. 

A chuckle sounds out, and Wanda huffs slightly as Scarlet grips her forearms for support as she laughs. She shifts her weight, leaning on one hip as she raises a single eyebrow, waiting for the other woman to cease her laughter. 

“Darling,” Wanda flushes at the nickname. “We’re the Scarlet Witch, we have magic.”

The dots connect, and Wanda lets an upside-down grin onto her face as she shakes her head. Of course, how could she have forgotten? Magic was what got her into this situation in the first place, not that she was complaining. Scarlet’s green eyes meet hers, sparkling with laughter, and Wanda rolls her eyes slightly as she twists her fingers. 

Scarlet tendrils erupt around them as Wanda changes their outfits, Scarlet closing her eyes at the feel of familiar magic brushing her skin. She opens them after the tendrils dissipate, looking down at herself briefly before taking in Wanda. Her eyes widen fractionally, and she feels her next breath shake slightly as she takes in the short hemline of the dress Wanda wore. 

Looking down, she realizes that she is dressed in a similar fashion, except her dress is longer, with a slit running up one of the sides. Wanda’s eyes are hot and locked on that small strip of skin, following the slit as high as it would go before she seems to shake herself out of a daze. 

Smirking, Wanda finds her own expression mirrored on Scarlet’s face. She doesn’t think she will ever get used to that. Reaching out a hand, she lets herself enjoy the feeling of Scarlet’s waist as she pulls her close, not minding when the woman’s hand rests dangerously low on her back. She leans in, a teasing smile on her lips as red tendrils erupt around them, creating a portal. 

“How do you feel about clubbing?”

—

Wanda can’t remember the last time she had gone out drinking, let alone clubbing. It was probably back before her Avenger days, when Pietro would sneak them into a dingy club and steal some alcohol before twirling her around and making her forget about their lives, even if just for a moment. The security in Sakovian nightclubs was minimal, and Wanda smiles fondly at the memory as she and Scarlet step into the crowded room. 

Bodies swarm around them, hands flying through the air as the music swirled around the mass of people. Different colored lights flash, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat soaked skin. Wanda feels happier than she has in the past year, and her eyes sparkle as she pulls Scarlet close and makes her way towards the bar. 

“What’s your favorite drink?” The words are yelled into Scarlet’s ear, and the woman just stares in confusion, her head tilting slightly. Wanda rolls her eyes, realizing that the woman probably can’t hear her over the thumping beat and blaring music. 

Pulling Scarlet in by the waist, Wanda smirks at the way those green eyes flick down to her lips before she moves those lips directly next to the woman’s ear. “I asked, what’s your favorite drink?” 

Wanda doesn’t have to yell as loud this time, and she feels Scarlet’s lips graze her neck slightly before she gets a response. She shudders, almost missing the drink order, and judging by the way Scarlet was smirking at her, the woman had definitely felt her reaction. 

Pulling away, Wanda subtly uses her magic to keep the swarms of people away from them as she orders two drinks. The bartender looks slightly confused, glancing between them briefly before he seems to shrug, making their drinks in record time as he nods towards another drunk man screaming his order. 

Scarlet pulls incessantly at Wanda’s waist, her fingers firm as she leads them away from the over-crowded bar. Wanda tries not to think too hard about the pleasurable heat spreading from that point of contact, but can’t help the way her body presses slightly against Scarlet’s as they lean against a wall. 

A glass of some red colored drink is raised to Scarlet’s lips, and Wanda lets her eyes rest on them as they greedily swallow the contents. She feels almost as if she were in a trace, Scarlet’s hand dancing along the hem of her dress as her tongue slowly runs over her bottom lip. She seems to savor the taste, and Wanda slowly raises her own glass, a spike of pride racing through her when Scarlet’s green eyes lock on the way the rim of her cup rests against her lips. 

Taking a sip, Wanda’s eyes shoot up in surprise at the sweet cherry flavor. She licks her lips, smiling slightly as she feels Scarlet’s breath hitch, her chest rising rapidly as her eyes flick upwards. Wanda steps in closer, feeling Scarlet’s hand wrap firmly around her waist, pressing their bodies together. She leisurely finishes the rest of her drink, before gently pressing her thigh against Scarlet’s pelvis and feeling herself throb at the woman’s low moan. 

“Time to dance.” Wanda murmurs, and she feels Scarlet’s fingers flex slightly as she attempts to keep their bodies pressed together. Feeling a spike of pleasure run through her at the way the other woman’s hips roll slightly against her leg, Wanda reluctantly tears herself away. She slips a soft hand into Scarlet’s slightly callused one, and pulls her towards the center of the club. 

Setting their empty glasses down, Wanda turns to face Scarlet, the woman already pulling her close again. The hands around her waist feel hot, and Wanda has to hold in a whimper when those long fingers splay out across her lower back, pressing their bodies together once again. 

“Turn around for me.” The words are low, and Wanda blames the red-hot flush to her cheeks on the alcohol she’d just gulped down. Scarlet’s eyes are intense, the green almost viridescent as her pupils dilate slightly. 

Nodding slightly, Wanda bites her lower lip nervously, smiling when Scarlet's eyes drop to it. She turns around, her hands coming to rest on top of the ones around her waist. She feels Scarlet’s pelvis press against her, and she experimentally rolls her own hips backwards, reveling in the low groan the other woman lets out. She feels small puffs of air against her neck, and uses one of her hands to move her hair out of the way, tilting her head slightly to give the other woman access. 

At the feeling of Scarlet’s soft lips against the sensitive skin of her neck, Wanda’s breath hitches. The soft kisses quickly morph into wet, hot hickeys that turn her pale skin red. Wanda dances to the music, feeling the alcohol take over her mind as she’s thrust into a fuzzy headspace. Her movements feel fluid, and she feels like she can finally breathe properly, sucking in the humid air of the club, the scent of alcohol mixing with a very familiar vanilla perfume. 

Letting one of her hands wander upwards, Wanda buries it in the soft hair of the woman behind her, tugging slightly as she tilts her face towards her. She feels her lips detach, the warm air of the club hitting her dampened skin as she turns towards Scarlet. 

Pressing her lips against the other woman’s feels like coming home. They feel impossibly soft and urgent against her own as they sway to the beat and press their scantily clad bodies together. Wanda feels her dress riding up slightly, Scarlet’s hand insistent against the bare skin of her upper thigh. She lets her own hand drift from the woman’s hair downwards, resting it against her throat as she silently asks for permission. 

Scarlet pulls away, her eyes dark as she slowly moves them towards the backrooms of the club. Upon reaching the doorway, she pushes through, pressing Wanda’s body against the wall of a dimly lit hallway as the door shuts solidly behind them. It was quieter here, more intimate somehow as the thumping music dampened behind the solid wood of the door. 

Two pairs of green eyes stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Wanda flexes her hand slightly, pressing softly against Scarlet’s throat, and smiles when she feels the woman’s breath hitch beneath her hand. 

She squeezes. Scarlet moans, and Wanda feels something almost animalistic take over her. 

Pulling the woman closer by her throat, Wanda crashes their lips together, feeling the desperate fingers against her waist squeezing tightly. Scarlet’s entire body is flush against hers, and their chests rise and fall in sync as they fight for dominance. Wanda’s other hand is pinned to the wall, her other squeezing tightly on the sides of Scarlet’s neck as the woman gasps into her mouth. Scarlet manages to maneuver her thigh between Wanda’s legs, and upon feeling the sturdy muscles against her aching core, Wanda moans freely into the other woman’s mouth. 

The sound of Wanda’s breathy moan snaps something inside Scarlet, and she pulls away to look directly into the other woman’s eyes. Her pupils are blown, the faintest bits of green around them as Wanda stares back with wide eyes and swollen lips. 

“Portal us back.” Scarlet manages to get out, grinding her hips slightly against Wanda’s pelvis, needing to feel some sort of relief. “I want you.”

Wanda smirks at the desperate note in the other woman’s voice. Who knew that hearing your own voice pleading and whining was so attractive? Scarlet lets out a choked noise from the back of her throat, her hips jerking as Wanda’s hand squeezes tightly in warning. 

“You want me?” Wanda makes her voice low, letting her accent wrap around the words as Scarlet’s eyes close briefly. “Are you sure it’s just that?” 

Tilting her head, Wanda waits for a response. The other woman seems to be grounding herself, her hips slowing as she trails her hands up Wanda’s body, resting them just beneath her breasts as she opens her eyes. 

“I need you.” She practically purrs, her voice raspy and her eyes narrowed. Wanda blinks, the words sending her further into the haze taking over her brain. She feels Scarlet’s fingers ghost the underside of her breasts, the barest sensation sending bolts of pleasure shooting towards her throbbing clit. Her whole body feels like it's on fire, and she nods quickly as Scarlet sends her a familiar smirk. 

“My place.” Scarlet’s words are demanding, and Wanda starts to nod before her eyebrows thread together in confusion. 

Upon seeing Wanda’s expression, Scarlet clarifies, “If I’m going to fuck you, darling, I’m going to do it right.” She leaned in, letting her tongue softly trail up Wanda’s neck as the woman shudders beneath her. “You can’t even begin to imagine the special types of toys I own.” 

“Stephen will be upset,” Wanda protests, and Scarlet rolls her eyes as she remembers the pitiful restrictions put on her. 

“Fine.” Scarlet reluctantly removes her hands from Wanda’s soft body, licking her lips before twisting her fingers and opening a portal in the narrow hallway. Green eyes peer around excitedly as Scarlet pulls her through the scarlet tendrils opening the multiverse. 

Wanda feels the incessant squeezing of Scarlet’s fingers against her waist, her eyes glued to the strip of skin where her dress is riding up her thighs. She lets her own gaze wander down to the faint bruises around Scarlet’s neck, her lips turning up as she spots the bed behind her. 

Pushing backwards, Wanda presses her body fully against the other woman’s warm figure. Her eyes take in the dark bedroom, her fingers grasping the woman’s shoulders tightly. Pushing gently, she smiles at Scarlet's gasp when the back of her knees hit the bed, and pushes her into a seated position.

“You seem really desperate, I can smell your arousal.” The words make their way into Scarlet’s brain, the desperate aching of her core clouding her senses as she feels Wanda’s presence overtake her. She grips the dark comforter below her, her knuckles whitening almost instantly, spreading her legs slightly as her hips roll eagerly. 

“Let me help with that.” Wanda whispers, before slowly dragging her tongue down Scarlet’s neck and kneeling before her. Her hands wander from the woman’s breasts and over her taut stomach, nails scratching slightly over the muscles she knows are hidden beneath her dress. 

Twisting her fingers, Wanda watches with wide eyes as the conjured dress disappears. Her gaze roams over Scarlet's body, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that this is also her body. Fuck, Scarlet was attractive. Was she also this hot?

“You’re beautiful.” The words are soft, and Wanda looks up quickly, her eyes shining in the low lighting of the room. Scarlet has a knowing smile on her face, and she twists her fingers slightly as she reminds Wanda that they share the same magic. The same mind reading powers, too. 

“Oh, I…” Wanda doesn’t quite know what to say, and Scarlet seems to understand. She reaches out, her fingers ghosting over Wanda’s cheek as she moves her hand into the woman’s scarlet hair. 

“You look so pretty on your knees for me.” Scarlet’s words flow between them, and Wanda licks her lips as she lets her eyes drop back to the rapidly forming damp spot in the woman’s underwear. She feels her face burning, certain that a blush is spreading across her cheeks at the praise. 

Choosing to forgo words altogether, Wanda allows her head to be pulled closer to Scarlet’s core, the smell of her dripping arousal hitting her nose and filling her senses. She tentatively flattens her tongue, licking a long stripe over the woman’s soaked underwear. 

Fuck. 

Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever tasted anything as sweet as Scarlet before. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard such pretty sounds, breathy moans leaving those sinful lips and shooting straight to her core.

“God, you’re so needy.” Wanda murmurs, her lips teasing against the woman’s underwear. She has her hands pressed tightly against Scarlet’s hips, attempting to still them as she places feather light kisses against the damp fabric. 

A broken whine leaves Scarlet's throat, and Wanda feels her own arousal dampen her already-soaked underwear. The long fingers in her hair tighten, and Wanda has to stop a moan from leaving her lips. Scarlet’s next words are whined and desperate. “Please, stop teasing.” 

The sound of Scarlet’s soft voice sends white hot pleasure racing through Wanda’s body. And really, who is she to deny herself? 

Twisting her fingers, scarlet wisps appear and dissolve the thin fabric barrier between Wanda’s lips and Scarlet's glistening pussy. At the first stroke of her tongue, Wanda is hooked. She moves her arms under the woman’s trembling thighs, swapping her tongue through the slick arousal and savoring the taste. At the feeling of Scarlet’s clit throbbing beneath her tongue, Wanda flicks it experimentally. Scarlet’s hand tightens painfully in her hair, her hips grinding against her face. 

Wanda moans, the vibrations sending acute pleasure through Scarlet’s aching clit. She tries to stop her hips from moving too much, but can’t help the way they move as Wanda begins licking and sucking with earnestness. 

The vigor in which Wanda eats her out nearly sends Scarlet over the edge. Almost as if Wanda can sense this, she pulls away briefly while Scarlet’s hips stutter against her tongue. “Grind harder against my face, it's okay. I want you to.”

Scarlet looks down at her, having thrown her head back at some point. Wanda’s glassy eyes are staring back up at her, wide and dark as her tongue teasingly swipes through her folds. She creates a suction with her lips, wrapping them around her clit as her tongue flicks quickly against it. She jerks her hips, whimpering as she holds herself back from grinding all over Wanda’s pretty face, and the redhead pulls away once more. 

“Do whatever you want to make yourself come, I can take it.” Wanda’s words are firm, her eyes honest. Scarlet nods, her breath feeling ragged as a moan rips through her throat when Wanda’s hot mouth resumes its ministrations. She feels the wet muscle of her tongue flicking quickly against her clit, her lips creating a delicious suction that sends her hurtling towards an orgasm. 

Using both hands to grip Wanda’s hair, Scarlet pulls her face flush against her core, grinding her hips against her chin as her back hits the bed. She can feel her thighs closing, the pressure building as her legs lock around Wanda’s head. The vibrations from Wanda’s moans only add fuel to the fire of her rising arousal, and Scarlet finally falls over the long-awaited edge. 

When she comes, it's almost violent. Her thighs squeeze tightly around Wanda’s head, her fingers seizing painfully as they tangle with locks of red hair. Her hips jerk and stutter, waves of arousal coating the smooth skin of Wanda’s face as she releases the overstimulating suction of her lips. Scarlet’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her muscles turning to goo as she relaxes against the mattress, a slow smile spreading on her face. 

“That good, huh?” A smug voice sounds, and Scarlet can barely hear it over the pleasant ringing in her ears. She feels strong hands spread her thighs apart, a gentle tongue licking her clean while avoiding her still-sensitive clit. She thinks she could cry from the softness of it all, and finally regains her senses when Wanda begins stroking her face with featherlight fingers. 

“Yes,” Scarlet begins, grabbing one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it softly, maintaining eye contact with the other woman as her eyebrows raise in surprise. “You are very good, Wanda.”

Green eyes soften slightly, and Scarlet sits up, feeling her strength return as she takes in the state of the woman standing before her. The bottom half of Wanda’s face is absolutely coated with her juices, the slick arousal shining as she takes the back of her hand and swipes it away. Her lips are swollen, and Scarlet has the strongest urge to kiss them. 

So, she does. 

Pulling Wanda in, she sucks her bottom lips between her teeth, reveling in the surprised gasp that the redhead lets out. Twisting her fingers, Scarlet removes the rest of Wanda’s clothing, feeling goosebumps erupt on her soft skin as she traces a hand down her spine. 

“Kneel on the bed for me, alright?” Scarlet whispers, pulling away and placing a firm hand against Wanda’s sternum when she tries to chase her lips. She waits until Wanda has positioned herself in the center of the bed, resting on her knees. She gives her a quick peck on the lips as a reward, grabbing her wrists and holding them against her thighs with a silent command to keep them there. 

Standing, Scarlet takes in the steady rise and fall of Wanda’s perfect chest, feeling quite conceited as she does so. After all, it was practically the same chest as hers. But, semantics. With a smirk, Scarlet makes her way towards the walk-in closet, her voice teasing as she throws a few words over her shoulder, “It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Knowing that Wanda wouldn’t move an inch, Scarlet takes her time in gathering the few items she needs. By the time she walks back into the bedroom, she knows that Wanda is practically dripping with need, the anticipation driving her practically insane. 

“We’re the same, you know.” Scarlet begins, purposefully lowering her voice and letting her accent bleed through. She loves the way Wanda shudders whenever she speaks, the slight power she holds over the redhead shooting straight to her core. 

Scarlet lays the items out on the bed in front of Wanda, relishing in the way her eyes widen as they roam over the few toys she’d selected. She chooses to ignore the toys, for now. Instead, she makes her way behind Wanda’s kneeling form, grazing her fingers across the tops of her thighs and over her arms, resting them on her lower back before trailing them up her spine. 

Grabbing her hair gently, Scarlet maneuvers Wanda’s head to the side, tilting it slightly as she lets her lips graze where her neck meets her collarbone. “We both have this specific spot on our neck that drives us crazy.” 

Wanda lets out a low noise, leaning back as Scarlet shuffles closer until her front is flush against the other woman’s back. She grazes her teeth gently against the very spot she’d been talking about, and feels her own arousal rise again at the soft sounds Wanda is making. She places her lips against the spot, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses against it as Wanda squirms. 

Fingers twitch against her thighs, and Scarlet has to commend the redhead for staying still. She knows just how desperate she gets whenever someone teases that spot on her neck, and decides to reward Wanda. 

Sinking her teeth in, Scarlet smiles at the drawn out moan that escapes those swollen lips, Wanda’s head dropping back against her shoulder as she sucks a dark hickey into her neck. Once she’s sure that the redhead is properly distracted, she lets her hands slowly make their way from her waist to her breasts. 

Detaching her lips, and chuckling at the high whine that Wanda lets out, Scarlet moves her fingers until they gently graze the woman’s hardened nipples. Wanda’s body jolts, and her eyes close when Scarlet’s mouth returns to her ear. “And most importantly, our nipples are sensative as fuck.”

Wanda moans freely at that, the sounds becoming more high pitched and breathy when Scarlet’s nimble fingers begin twisting and pinching her nipples. Her body presses further against the woman behind her, leaning against her for support as her hips rut helplessly into the air. 

“So desperate for me,” Scarlet’s voice is in her ear again, and Wanda thinks she might come just from the sound of it. Then, she feels those soft lips and talented tongue stimulate that spot on her neck, and she practically melts against the woman behind her. 

Rolling her hips, Wanda presses herself against the woman behind her, wanting… no, needing Scarlet to stimulate her soon. The growing pressure was quickly becoming unbearable, and the added sensations from those talented fingers against her breasts was causing her to pant and moan in a very undignified manner. 

“Please,” Wanda begins, before quickly closing her mouth at Scarlet's low chuckle against her neck. 

“Begging already?” Her hands disappear from her breasts, one moving down towards her thighs while the other trails up towards her neck. “How pathetic, I haven’t even properly touched you yet.” 

A firm hand wraps around Wanda’s throat, and her eyes roll backwards. She’s truly never felt this many sensations before, and she’s definitely never begged for anything. Of course it would only be a version of herself that manages to reduce her to a submissive puddle of need.

Scarlet wisps emerge from the hand near her thighs, and Wanda watches as they float teasingly towards one of the objects spread before her on the bed. She bites back a whimper at the chosen object, hearing the delicate metal chain clink softly as it's dropped into Scarlet’s waiting hand. 

“I can tell by your reaction that you’ve experienced the wonderful pleasure that nipple clamps have to offer.” Scarlet’s voice holds a teasing tone, and Wanda presses her lips together and nods. 

“Really… with who?” The question hangs in the air, and Wanda swallows the thick embarrassment in her throat as she tries to form some words. The woman behind her lets out a soft sigh, before taking mercy on the flustered redhead. 

“For me, it was Natasha that introduced me to the kinkier side of sex.” Scarlet sounds almost wistful, and Wanda twists her head in surprise. 

“Natasha?” 

Gentle fingers grip Wanda’s chin, moving her head back to its original position. She catches a glimpse of Scarlet’s smirking lips, and jumps slightly when the woman teasingly drags the cold metal of the nipple clamps across each breast. 

“Yes, darling. Natasha.” Wanda can hear the teasing tone in Scarlet’s voice, and attempts to twist her head to the side to ask for more information. The fingers against her jaw tighten, the blunt fingernails digging into her skin as Scarlet holds her head in place. 

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll tell you the stories later.” 

“Stories? As in plural?” Wanda knows that there's a hint of hysteria in her voice, and Scarlet wraps her hand around her throat, soothing her instantly. She can feel the woman smiling against her ear and tries not to move when her hand tightens. 

“Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll hurt that pretty little head of yours.” The words send Wanda spiraling straight into a vanilla-scented haze, and she nods dumbly in response. She lets herself get wrapped up in the comforting touches of Scarlet's hand and the soft kisses being placed against her neck as the hand wrapped around her throat moves down and begins attaching the nipple clamps. 

Wanda’s body feels like it’s on fire, the nipple clamps shooting white-hot bolts of pleasure straight to her throbbing clit as Scarlet tightens them. Her moans reverberate around the room, her hips twitching aimlessly as she searches for a source of friction. Anything to ease the pressure at her core. 

“You never answered my question.” The words reach Wanda’s ears, and she thinks she might cry. Her brain is not working the best right now, and it's absolutely cruel of Scarlet to ask her questions while she’s in this state.

“Um, I…” Wanda can’t quite seem to wrap her head around the previous question, her mind blank as she searches for an answer.

“Did you forget already? That’s alright, maybe this will help you remember.” Scarlet murmurs in her ear, before grabbing the delicate chain swinging between Wanda’s breasts that connected to the nipple clamps. Tugging, she relishes in the broken moans leaving those sinfully plump lips, her eyes locked on Wanda’s painfully hard nipples as they stretch slightly under the force of the chain. 

“It was, fuck… Agatha.” Wanda manages, and Scarlet pauses. Taking in small breaths, so she doesn’t stretch her nipples further than pleasantly painful, Wanda tilts her head slightly, trying to guess why the woman had stopped. 

“Agatha, as in… the one who tried to battle you in Westview? The one who nearly stole my power in my universe? The one with the rabbit?” Scarlet’s voice is disbelieving, and she shakes her head as she processes. A proud chuckle escapes her lips, and she presses a kiss softly against Wanda’s cheek before tugging sharply against the chain. 

A strangled yelp leaves Wanda’s lips, and Scarlet moves her other hand towards the glistening mound between the redhead’s thighs. “I didn’t know you had it in you, darling. Very well done.”

Pride blooms in Wanda’s chest, and she lets a slow smile onto her face as Scarlet begins circling her clit. Those talented fingers avoid the one spot that needs the most attention, instead dipping down and collecting the leaking wetness from her leaking pussy, before smearing it over her inner thighs. 

“Fuck, darling. You’re absolutely soaked, I didn’t realize that fucking yourself, in a manner, would get you this hot and bothered.” Scarlet’s voice is teasing, and Wanda groans as she dips the tips of her fingers into her entrance, before pulling away and smearing it onto her other thigh. 

“Well,” Wanda begins, feeling her thighs tremble from the effort of staying still, “What can I say? We’re attractive, don’t even try to deny it.”

Scarlet hums approvingly, and without any warning, thrusts two fingers knuckle deep into the wet heat of Wanda’s pussy. A moan sounds out, and Scarlet relishes in the way the woman’s walls are clamping around her fingers, before beginning to thrust them quickly. 

The sound of Wanda’s arousal sloshing around her fingers nearly sends Scarlet over the edge, and she grinds her pelvis firmly against Wanda’s backside. Working herself up, Scarlet thrusts quickly, her fingers hitting that sweet spongy spot that has Wanda seeing stars. The gasped moans sound like music to her ears, and she lets out her own moan into Wanda’s ear, pleased with the way the redhead rolls her hips against her fingers. 

Moving her thumb up to apply pressure against her protruding clit, Scarlet tugs sharply at the nipple clamps, before moving her mouth close to Wanda’s ear and muttering, “Cum.”

All it takes is a few more deep thrusts, and Scarlet’s teeth biting into that sensitive spot of Wanda’s neck to bring her orgasm to the surface. She shudders, her walls clamping down on Scarlet’s fingers as they pulsate, the muscles contracting and expanding rapidly. Her clit throbs under the woman’s thumb, each wave of her orgasm feeling just as strong as the last as Scarlet fucks her through it. 

Breathing deeply, Wanda attempts to calm herself down, her clit already overstimulated and painfully sensitive. She pushes Scarlet’s hand away, ignoring the huff from behind her as she turns around and faces the woman fully. 

“You also did very well.” Wanda says cheekily, electing to ignore the eye roll she receives. She places a hand against Scarlet’s flushed cheek, her fingers still trembling from the force of her orgasm as they stroke her skin softly. 

Green eyes stare back at her, flicking to her lips as Wanda pants, regaining her ability to breathe. As soon as her breaths have evened out, she pulls Scarlet closer, their lips colliding gently. Wanda thinks that Scarlet has the softest lips she’d ever had the pleasure of kissing, and moves her own smoothly against hers. 

A strong tongue licks at her bottom lip, and Wanda allows it, enjoying the feel of Scarlet’s tongue against hers as she slowly pushes her down until her shoulder blades hit the mattress. Twisting her fingers, Wanda brings one of the objects to her waiting palm, smirking against the other woman’s lips when it hits her hand. 

Pulling away, Wanda sits up, moving her thighs to either side of Scarlet's waist. She eargerly takes in the halo of reddish-brown hair around her and the way her eyes sparkle as they curiously look at the item in her hand. 

“And what’s that for?” Scarlet asks, her hand already twitching as she reaches for the vibrator. 

Wanda pulls it away, outside of her reach, and chuckles at the crinkle that appears between her eyebrows. She twists her fingers again, causing scarlet tendrils to wrap around the woman’s wrists and pull them towards the headboard. 

“How creative.” Scarlet’s tone is flat, her face unimpressed. 

“I’m not finished yet.” The words are murmured, and Scarlet feels slightly embarrassed at the wave of wetness she feels leak out of her at the sound of Wanda’s low voice. Watching with slightly widened eyes, Scarlet’s mouth falls open at the mirror that appears on the ceiling, showing the two of them perfectly. 

Looking up, Wanda grins at the placement of the mirror. She smirks at Scarlet, hearing the woman’s thoughts running wild as she takes in their forms through the reflective glass. Moving herself back slightly, she traps the woman’s legs between her thighs as she sets the vibrator on the puffy flesh of Scarlet’s mound. 

“I haven’t even turned it on, and you’re already rutting against the toy.” Wanda says, her voice still teasing as Scarlet attempts to still her hips. At the slight glare she receives, Wanda pulls the toy away before delivering a sharp slap to the glistening pussy in front of her. Her fingers hit the woman’s clit perfectly, and she enjoys the jolt that makes its way through Scarlet’s body. 

If the resounding moan is anything to go by, Scarlet loves it. She muffles the moan that attempts to escape her, and Wanda raises a single eyebrow. 

“Don’t quiet yourself, I want to hear every sound I can pull out of you.” Her words are firm, demanding even, and Scarlet nods quickly as she glances towards the toy through the mirror. She would give just about anything to feel its vibrations against her now-aching pussy. 

Almost as if she can read her thoughts (oh wait), Wanda turns the toy on, pressing it deliciously against Scarlet’s protruding clit. Jolts of pleasure rush through her, and she throws her head back while squeezing her eyes tightly shut. 

As soon as she does so, Wanda pulls the toy away, tilting her head when Scarlet looks at her with betrayal in her eyes, asking in a whiny tone, “Why?”

“I want you to look at yourself when I make you cum from a single toy.” Wanda’s tone is smug, almost too smug for Scarlet’s liking, but any protests she has fade away when the redhead turns the toy back on, bumping up the strength slightly. 

A string of curse words leaves her lips, her eyes locked on the toy through the mirror. Eventually, they wander towards her slightly squirming hips, and she moans at the sight. Tugging at her restraints, Scarlet watches the way her muscles flex as she attempts to escape their tight hold, and for a moment, she thinks she sees Wanda’s body instead of her own. 

That would make sense, seeing as they were literally the same person, and Scarlet feels the lines between them start to blur as her orgasm rises. She sneaks a glance down, watching as Wanda’s eyes greedily take in the sight of her squirming body. That scene alone makes her gush around the toy, the vibrations increasing in sound as the liquid vibrates between her pussy and the toy. 

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, not giving her the chance to respond before she continues. “You know, I’m never able to keep still either when I touch myself at home. A vibrator practically makes me move all over the bed, and I have to restrain my hips against the bed whenever I use it.” 

Scarlet’s lips fall open, and Wanda smirks when she reads the thoughts running through her hazy mind. “Ah, you do the same thing, huh? I guess we really aren’t that different from each other, even though we’re from different universes.”

The thought of Wanda getting off to a vibrator while restraining herself plays on repeat in Scarlet’s mind, and she cants her own hips upwards as she feels her orgasm close in. Streams of pleas leave her lips, the woman too far gone to feel much shame about it. 

“Please, let me… fuck. I’m so- I’m. Fuck. Close, I’m close. Please, I need to… let me. I need to cum. Please.” Scarlet writhes against her restraints, feeling Wanda’s thighs tighten around her own thighs as she minimizes the movements of her legs. 

“Wanda, please.” At the sound of her own name falling from those familiar lips, Wanda turns the vibrations up a few levels, pressing the toy firmly against Scarlet’s spasming pussy. Loud moans reverberate around the dim room, the scent of arousal filling Wanda’s nose as she watches the woman below her with intense focus. 

“Cum for me, darling.” The words are soft, but the second they leave Wanda’s lips, Scarlet feels her orgasm crash over her.

White hot tendrils of pleasure course through her, her hips jolting against the toy as she feels another wave of wetness coat the head of the vibrator. Wanda’s thighs are firm against hers, limiting the effect of her convulsions as her orgasm hits her with wave after wave of pleasure cascades through her body. 

Feeling like her nerves are quite shot, Scarlet whimpers when the vibrations against her clit become painful, her pussy clenching around nothing as wetness leaks all over her inner thighs and down to the comforter. Wanda turns down the settings on the toy to the lowest level, helping Scarlet ride out the aftershocks and prolonging the pleasure as long as possible. 

After a minute or two, Scarlet’s eyes plead with Wanda to turn off the toy, her throat feeling hoarse from the ragged moans that ripped through it. The only thing she can manage is a whispered, “Please.”

Wanda turns off the toy, discarding it somewhere behind her as she leans down to kiss the trembling lips on the woman below her. Her shift of position causes Scarlet to feel the pool of wetness that had leaked from the redhead’s own throbbing center against her thighs, and she moans into her mouth. 

Twisting her fingers again, Wanda releases Scarlet from the tendrils of magic restraining her wrists. Feeling those hands come down and wrap themselves in her hair, she hums pleasantly against the woman’s mouth, gasping at the sharp tug that follows. 

A strong tongue snakes into her mouth, sliding pleasantly against her own as Scarlet practically devours her lips and tongue. Her teeth graze Wanda’s bottom lip lightly, almost teasingly, before biting down and pulling. 

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Wanda grinds her overheated core against the hard muscles of Scarlet's now-soaked thighs. She kisses away the smirk that appears on the woman’s face, using her magic to bring another toy to her hand. 

“I want to ride you.” Wanda is pleased with the groan her words draw from Scarlet’s throat, the woman’s eyes widening with anticipation at the strap on clenched in Wanda’s hand. Her hands gesture urgently, fingers trembling as she clenches the comforter below her. 

Waving her hand, Wanda watches scarlet wisps attach the strap to Scarlet’s pelvis. This toy was different from the strap she had in her own universe, as it didn’t have a harness. Instead, there was a smaller dildo attached that slipped inside the person wearing it, creating the illusion that the toy was genuinely attached to the woman. 

A groan leaves Scarlet’s swollen lips, Wanda’s hand tugging against the toy as she makes sure it’s attached correctly. The smaller part of the toy buried in Scarlet's pussy hits her g-spot perfectly, the larger dildo on the outside pressing snugly against her clit. 

Grasping at Wanda’s waist, Scarlet’s hands impatiently position the redhead over the strap. Scarlet positions herself against the headboard slightly, just enough so that she can still watch their movements through the mirror while also looking directly at Wanda’s face. 

“Go on.” The raspy quality of Scarlet’s voice causes another wave of wetness to escape Wanda’s core, and she slowly sinks down on the strap, giving herself time to adjust. The hands around her waist move down until they grip her hips, helping her take the last inch of the toy, both of them sighing in sync when the strap bottoms out. 

Wanda experimentally moves her hips, just slightly, as a strangled moan escapes her when the tip of the toy drags over that spongy spot inside her. She begins fucking herself on the strap, Scarlet’s hands resting against her hips, the woman’s eyes eagerly taking in the sight before her. 

“You look absolutely beautiful like this.” Scarlet’s voice is almost reverent, her eyes unblinking as she watches the glistening strap when Wanda sinks down on it over and over again. She lets her eyes wander up Wanda’s body, taking in her breasts as they bounce slightly with each thrust of Wanda’s hips. 

“That’s a bit conceited, don’t you think?” Wanda has a single eyebrow raised, her voice breathless as she focuses on the building pleasure coursing through her. She grinds herself against Scarlet's pelvis, the strap hitting her g-spot perfectly as the strap is buried inside her overheating pussy. 

Scarlet chuckles, her fingers gripping Wanda’s hips tighter and urging her hips to move faster. She moves her lips closer to Wanda’s grazing them as she speaks, “Well, its like you said earlier, we’re both hot as fuck, darling.”

Wanda doesn’t respond, choosing instead to capture her other self’s lips in a searing kiss. Her teeth clack against Scarlet’s, her lips desperate as she sucks and bites at the woman’s already swollen lips. She feels the fingers around her hips dig in, and she’s positive that she’ll find multiple bruises in the morning. 

Breaking the kiss, Scarlet enjoys the whimper that escapes Wanda as she lifts her hips and slams her back on the strap. “Fuck yourself, Wanda.”

A few broken moans ring out, and Wanda uses all the strength she has left to lift her hips repeatedly. White hot pleasure builds, the pressure in her core becoming unbearable as Scarlet begins thrusting her hips as well. 

“I’m going to cum.” Wanda’s voice is strained, her head thrown back as her eyes close of their own accord. Scarlet can’t blame her, knowing how desperate she also becomes when a strap on is involved. Using a single hand, she begins applying pressure against Wanda’s throbbing clit. 

The hard nub pulsates beneath her fingers, and Wanda’s movements become uncoordinated and jerky, a sign that means she’s close to an orgasm. Scarlet feels a rush of power, and she leans her own head back, watching both of them through the mirror on the ceiling. Her fingers slip over Wanda’s clit, arousal coating them as she circles it quickly. 

“Let go, Wanda. Cum for me, you can do it.” Scarlet urges, watching as the redhead comes undone. She shakes, her hips rutting against the toy as she lets out a few strained moans. Her orgasm is quick, the aftershocks holting through her until she’s almost dizzy from the stimulation. Still, it's not enough. 

“More,” Wanda chokes out, her chest heaving and mind hazy as she feels pleasure build once more. “I need more, please.”

In one quick movement, Scarlet moves forwards, maneuvering them until Wanda’s back is pressed against the mattress, her eyes looking directly at the mirror on the ceiling. From this angle, she can watch as Scarlet’s back muscles flex while her hips thrust roughly into her. It's a mesmerizing sight, and only causes her orgasm to race towards the edge once more. 

The sound of a metal chain clinking shocks Wanda out of her daze, and she suddenly remembers the nipple clamps still attached to her. From the look on Scarlet’s face, she’s immensely pleased with this, and her fingers wrap around the chain as she moves into a kneeling position. 

“Keep watching in the mirror, you’re going to enjoy this.” 

“Fuck.” That’s the only word that Wanda can manage, her eyes glued to Scarlet’s form in the mirror. She watches her hand gently tug at the chain, her nipples stretching slightly. She sighs at the pleasurable jolts of pain that shoot through her at the action, her hips jerking as she attempts to fuck herself against the strap. 

She needs more. 

A smirk appears on Scarlet’s face as soon as the thought runs through Wanda’s mind, and she snaps her hips sharply. Pulling the length of the toy almost completely out of the poor redhead’s soaked entrance, she tugs harshly at the nipple clamps while simultaneously thrusting the entire toy deep inside of Wanda. 

The sound that tears from Wanda’s throat is animalistic, her pupils blown as she watches Scarlet’s hips pound against hers as the strap reaches the deepest parts of her pussy. Her fingers clench the comforter beneath her, her knuckles completely white as she grits her teeth and arches her back. 

“Tell me how much you want it, how much you need to cum.” Scarlet demands, her tone as unforgiving as the rapid pace she sets. She waves her hand, the vibrator slapping against her palm as Wanda begins speaking, her words broken and desperate.

“Please, I- fuck. I need it so bad, please. I’ll… do… fucking hell. I’ll do anything. Just, please- jesus. Please let me, oh fuck… right there. Yes, fuck. Let me come. Please.” The words are babbled, some coherent and others mumbled breathily as Wanda’s eyes glaze over. 

Scarlet has never seen a more beautiful sight. 

Skilled hands turn the vibrator on, setting it to one of the highest vibration levels. Wanda whines at the sound of the toy, her legs squeezing in an attempt to close against the overstimulation she knows she’s about to receive. 

“You’ll take everything I give you.” Scarlet’s voice is low, her eyes glinting in the low light of the room. She pries Wanda’s thighs apart, her hips thrusting quickly as she presses the vibrator to Wanda’s swollen clit. 

Wanda’s hips jerk violently, tears forming in her eyes at the painful stimulation. It’s enough, and exactly what she’d begged so prettily for, and she’s cumming within seconds. Her clit pulses against the toy, tears streaming down her face as her back arches even more. Her fingers grasp at Scarlet’s wrists, but with a few scarlet tendrils, they’re quickly pinned above her head. 

Lewd noises sound out, Wanda’s cries going unheard as Scarlet watches her in fascination. She has an idea, and pulls the vibrator away, enjoying the relieved sobs that tear through Wanda’s throat for a moment, before her hands are rough against the redhead’s waist. 

Pulling the strap from the poor woman, she flips her onto her stomach, conjuring a second mirror in front of them. Pulling her ass up, she positions Wanda on her knees, before sharply tugging at her hair and forcing her to look into the mirror. 

Moaning at the sight she sees, Wanda takes in the strong form of Scarlet behind her, pulling her hands uselessly against her restraints as the woman’s hips move relentlessly. The strap reaches the deepest part of Wanda’s clenching pussy, streams of arousal coating the length of it as she’s fucked roughly from behind. 

Green eyes lock together through the mirror, both with pupils so blown their irises seem almost black, and Wanda feels the deep ache of another orgasm rising. Her walls flutter around the strap, sloshing sounds filling the room and mixing with her shaky moans as Scarlet watches intently. 

“I can’t.” Wanda manages, feeling spent, her legs trembling to hold her up even as Scarlet's hands move to support her hips. 

“You can,” Scarlet grits out, slamming her hips faster, “And you will.” 

A guttural sound leaves Wanda’s throat, the sound ripping through her as Scarlet places the vibrator back on her clit. She falls face down on the mattress, the hand in her hair adjusting her so she can still watch through the mirror with one half-closed eye. She feels a painful ache spread through her body as her orgasm rises, and bites back a sob when her sensitive nipples brush against the comforter with each deep thrust of the strap. 

“Now, Wanda.” Scarlet’s voice is smooth and low, her breaths even as she watches the scene through the mirror. “Cum.”

Her final orgasm tears through her body, flames of pleasure roaring through her veins as Wanda weakly fights against her restraints. She tries to escape the seemingly never-ending pleasure, but Scarlet’s tight hold on her hips prevents any attempts. 

“Too much.” Wanda chokes out, her vision darkening around the edges as Scarlet thrusts the toy deep inside her one last time. Her whole body is trembling, and she nearly sobs in relief when the vibrator is turned off and discarded somewhere on the bed. 

“You did so well,” Scarlet murmurs, watching the cum stained strap as she slowly pulls it out of Wanda’s spasming pussy. She ignores the whimper that the action draws from Wanda, her fingers tracing gentle circles on the woman’s lower back as she finally pulls the toy out. 

“I’ve never…” Wanda begins, her voice weak. Scarlet shushes her, twisting her spent body until Wanda is laying with her back against the mattress. Twisting her fingers, she removes the restraints around Wanda’s wrists, and sends her toys off to be cleaned, choosing to keep the ceiling mirror where it is. 

Conjuring a warm, damp washcloth, Scarlet begins cleaning the multitude of juices coating Wanda’s inner thighs as her other hand strokes through the woman’s scarlet hair softly. Wanda practically basks in the attentive way Scarlet helps her down, grounding herself with each gentle stroke of the washcloth and each slow pass of the woman’s long fingers against her scalp.

“Feel good?” Wanda would scoff at the question, if she had the strength to do so. Instead, she chooses to nod slowly, her eyes closing of their own accord. 

Eventually, Scarlet finishes cleaning her up, and presses a gentle kiss against Wanda’s swollen lips before laying down next to her and pulling her body close to her own. 

“I bet we make quite a sight.” Wanda murmurs, turning to her side and facing the other version of herself. She still can’t quite believe that Scarlet is real, but the sex… now that certainly felt real. 

“I’m real, darling.” Scarlet sounds tired, her arms wrapping around Wanda’s waist. “And I guarantee that we do.”

Wanda babbles something incoherent, already half asleep as she nuzzles further into Scarlet’s warmth. Her hands snake around the woman’s shoulders, pulling her closer as she pulls the comforter up around them. She tries to say something else, her words slurred as her eyes attempt to open, and Scarlet chuckles. 

“Hush, Wanda. Go to sleep.” Her tone is fond, her own eyes closing even as she tries to keep them open. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A single green eye peers up at her, sparkling in the dim lighting as a small smile appears on Wanda’s face. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed are kings

Dinner was fucking great today, cheesy beef patties with rosemary bread for buns? Hot.

wow i love them sm holy shit they look amazing

Rouge and Shadow moment (+ a small Knuckles for good luck)

the way hoseok is written here is just😫💞 A HYENA LAUGH?? yes pls. i love crazy nd dark hoseok😭😭 also the way mc was just as horny iIDBDKS god this fic is so good. the way u write smut i just🙈❣

Delta Disorder (M)

‘Cause the only thing you’re takin’ is your clothes off

Go 'head girl, strip it down, close your mouth

I just wanna hear your body talk

• Pairing: Sleep Paralysis Demon!Hoseok x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Demon!AU, Supernatural, Horror, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 5.1k

• Summary: What should have been an easy sleep becomes an ordeal that not even your wildest imagination could have come up with.

• Warnings/themes: sleep paralysis demon!Hobi, swearing, mentions of hooking up, masturbation (f.), voyeurism, oral (f. receiving), sleep paralysis, wet dreams, somnophilia, dom!Hobi, fingering, fingers in mouth, spit, teasing, begging, orgasm denial, biting/marking, face licking, crying, dirty talk, voice kink, Hobi’s growls 🥵, restraining (with hands), cmnf, rough sex, unprotected sex (demons don’t give af lol), overstimulation, creampie, Y/N realizes that something sinister is going down

• Notes: Oh, look, it’s monster fucking time 🤭 Could not wait until Halloween to write about MORE!Hobi being a sleep paralysis demon so here ya go! It’s only a taste of what’s yet to come all the pun intended 😈 Thanks to my wifey @playmetheclassics​ for betaing yet again even though I ruin her every. Single. TIME. 🙃💍💖💖💖 Crossposted to AO3.

• Song Inspo: Kiss Land - The Weeknd (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Taglist: @parkdatjimin @jimilter @joontied​ @highly-functioning-mitochondria​ @swweetnightt​ @sunshinerainbowsbts​ @herecomesjoon​ @miscelunaaa​ @minttangerines​ @sopeorsoaporsoup​ @sugalaritae​ @cris1984love​ @kookiecrumb​ @codeinebelle​

“Jennie, I told you, I’m fine!”

Jennie pouted. “You sure? I don’t mind telling that guy to kick rocks if you need someone to keep you occupied tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you tapped the underside of her chin, chuckling at how her lip pushed out even further.

“I promise! It sucks that I couldn’t get any dick tonight, but I’m not gonna stop you from getting it.”

Keep reading

run bts is?????.

run bts is?????.

masterlist: guarded

you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

Chapter One: Fan Mail

Chapter Two: I’m Screwed

Chapter Three: Exotic Pets

Chapter Four: Cham-pain

Chapter Five: Italian Leather Gloves

Chapter Six: No One But You

Chapter Seven: Epilogue

part two: guilty | knj x reader

make it cute | jeon jungkook

title: make it cute

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: smut, pwp, 18+

summary: if jungkook loans someone money, he expects to be paid with just that. but tonight, he just might make an exception.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: infidelity, swearing, mentions ransoms and everything that comes with that (threats, m*rder, etc), pictures??, consensual g*n play (more like oral but yeah), sloppy bl*wjob/deep throating, consent bc it’s sexy, pet names, degradation, m*sturbation, facial c*m shot, dirty talk, slight power play, obedience kink, hair pulling, face f*cking, unedited, that should be all

release date: march 15th, 2024; 10:55pm est

note: idk why or how i came up with this trash lol. i was bored and wanted to take a break from writing my other stuff. i hope you enjoy. divider by cafekitsune.

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“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Jungkook can feel his pants getting tighter with each second he stands there watching you slurp on the barrel of his gun. He’s done some sick shit in his life, but this—this was your idea.

“You’re deadass enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

He can tell by how you’re rubbing your clit and pinching your stiff nipples.

“M-Mhm,” you choke out a moan as you devour the cold steel buried in your throat.

He can’t lie and say he isn’t impressed, or turned on. But this is strictly business. Your darling husband owes him a lot of money, and he’s going to pay it if he wants his little trophy home by dinner.

Otherwise, he’d be glad to keep you here in his bedroom.

With an ass like yours, Jungkook wouldn’t let you out of his sight if you were his. You’d be on his lap no matter the time or the place. You don’t let this kind of pussy off the leash in this world. This guy’s an idiot.

He can only imagine what those soft lips would look like wrapped around his dick. He’s twitching at the thought of it.

As if you are reading his mind, your hand leaves your soaking wet panties, and you place it directly on his Armani-covered crotch. A hiss pushes through his clenched teeth, biting back the urge to curse at you for your carelessness. 

Your mouth filled to capacity, but he knows what you’re asking for. 

“Hey!”

Jungkook isn’t a gentle man, but he’s careful to not snap your neck when he grips your hair and pulls your head back—removing your bruised lips from his gun. Your lungs suddenly become filled with air, leaving you desperate to catch your breath. Your coughs nearly drown out the sound of his own voice.

“Look at me,” he orders, and those blown out watery eyes find his face instantly.

Sexy and obedient. Yeah, he definitely has a problem on his hands.

“Are you sure this is what you want? I just want my money—”

“Fuck my throat.”

“Pardon?”

He heard you. Even though your voice is rough and hoarse, he didn’t miss a beat. He’s just stunned.

“My throat…Shove it down my throat, please.”

Please. 

You didn’t have to add that part. He was already getting ready to take his dick out.

“Well, shit.”

Jungkook quickly places his gun on the dresser and starts unbuckling his pants. He steals glances at you waiting patiently on your knees like a good little slut. The sight has him fidgeting like a virgin.

Once he frees himself from the confinement of his trousers, his dick springs out and reveals itself to your expecting eyes. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you gawk over his size. Whatever you were expecting, he’s exceeded that.

“Bit off more than you can chew, huh?”

You seem offended by his assumption. The look you give him says exactly that.

“Not at all,” you reply, adjusting yourself to align with his midsection. “May I?”

He grants you permission to touch, and you waste no time wrapping your smooth hand around him. You stroke it as you marvel over the raised veins that climb up to the reddened tip, licking your lips like you’re sitting before a feast.

“Don’t fuck around, kay? I still got a bullet with your name on it, princess.”

You heed his warning and move closer, sizing him up to see how much you can actually fit in your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he shudders.

That manners might get you on the winning team; if you play your cards right. 

“No sweat, beautiful. Keep going.”

It’s probably the first time he’s said something that sincere, but honestly, he’s just trying to get gobbled up before he cums all over his freshly waxed floors. His men are probably wondering what the hell is taking so long. For all they know, you had to go to the bathroom.

Jungkook almost yells out when warm wetness surrounds his throbbing dick like a compress. His mind struggles to comprehend what to do. He isn’t sure if he should just let you take over, but he’s not able to thrust even if he wanted to. He can’t move. The way you’re slurping him up, he might even be able to walk after this.

“Easy,” he warns.

You look at him and raise your eyebrow, finally displaying a hint of cockiness. 

Jungkook pulls himself together and finds his bearings because there isn’t a chance in hell he’s going to boost your ego anymore than he already has.

“Fine,” he grunts. “You wanna play rough, I’ll teach you.”

His hands venture to the back of your head, giving him full control of your intake. Your eyes stay glued to him as he harshly uses his grip to push your mouth into his swift thrusts. You begin to gag and choke, dripping spit all over his dick and the floor—but he doesn’t mind.

It’s not like he has to clean it up.

“Goddamn. Who’s training this throat, hm?” He buries himself in your throat, making your face collide with his crotch. “Your hubby?”

When he hears your gurgled reply he pulls away and allows you to speak. Through your panting, you give him a solid response. One he’s sure you’ve never shared with your husband.

“I’ll suck him dry every night before I let him cum in me.”

Jungkook nods. “Smart woman.”

But he doesn’t give a shit what you do with that pretty pussy. Right now, your services are needed elsewhere.

“Come here.”

Hopefully, you were able to take a breath because Jungkook’s dick can’t hold back anymore.

You two had a deal, and he’s going to uphold his part as you did yours. You complied, now it’s time to send your sweet husband some face shots so he knows Jungkook isn’t fucking around. It’s been a month since the funds were due. 

It’s time to pay up. One way, or another.

“Fuck!”

He curses each time his cock hits the back of your throat, suddenly feeling his muscles tense up from the pressure building inside. The sweat building up on his forehead slowly starts to roll down his face, but he’s too occupied to wipe it off. 

Your warmth has him hunched over and leaning on his toes, his mouth in an O-shape as he comes closer to release. While he’s pulling in and out of you, he catches a glimpse of your juicy cunt being filled with your fingers, your body squirming and seeking the same relief he’s chasing.

Both of your moans fill the room as you reach the peak of your highs. Your eyes roll back as your body stiffens. Jungkook knows exactly what’s going on with you, and as you’re riding out the waves of your orgasm, he waits for the perfect moment to pull out and paint you with his seed.

The time comes when you’re no longer able to control your breathing, and you’re desperately looking for air after you’ve finally come down. It’s not a second too soon because Jungkook cannot bear another dive into your wet mouth. 

He removes his dick and gives it a couple of quick strokes before his cum begins to squirt all over your pretty face. You sigh delightfully as he covers you with a warm blanket of his cum.

It’s everywhere, but he kept his promise and didn’t get any in your hair.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, still out of breath.

“I am.”

Jungkook slips his phone out of his back pocket and finds his camera. He positions it in front of your face, and he’s amused by your exhausted smile.

“Is my hair okay?” you ask him, and this time he actually has to chuckle.

Since you’ve made his night a little better, he does a quick job smoothing down flyaways and kinks. Honestly, he didn’t have to because you look hot already. Hair messy, tits out, with his kids all over your face and the expensive diamond necklace your husband bought you.

He can’t think of a more perfect image.

You pose provocatively as he takes a few pictures, and when he’s done, he finally guides you to the bathroom. He instructed you to take your time and take as long as you need to freshen up while he sits on the bed to make this official.

He opens his messages and finds the contact he’s searching for within a minute. A mischievous grin slowly begins to form on his face as he taps the latest images in his camera roll, sending his debtor a little message to stir the pot.

03:14 am Sent: img.788, img.789….

03:14 am Sent: at the spot fucking your bitch. bring my money and i might let you borrow her again.

He’s lying. You’re staying right here, or you can join your husband in the little bed his men made for him.

A black hole star

Absolutely love this! I neeed more dark reader helping her equally dark and ambitious lover. 😍

What do you think of a married darkling one shot where his wife is completely indifferent to his feelings/affair with Alina? Like she’s a Second army soldier first and is willing to put the grisha ahead of her feelings and marriage.

I'm thinking I could give it a (one) shot *ba dum tsk* I'm sorry please don't hate me

"Plan B"

Aleksander Morozova x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: Angst but like, not really

Alina was on fire. Her lungs were aflamed, her legs burning with strain, but she kept on running, she had to: she wasn't safe, wasn't going to be safe until she was outside of the palace grounds, outside of the city. Hell, probably outside of Ravka.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized her eyes where burning too.

He had lied to her. He had lied to her since the very beginning, and she had believed him, had let herself be swept away by gifts, and romantic ride dates and pretty words and soulful looks. Baghra's words resonated in her head "He's had centuries to master lying to naive girls"

A sob broke through her chest, the tears finally flowing free, obscuring her vision. She was almost blind in the darkness of the forest, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when she slammed into something hard and huge and was sent careening to the ground.

"Alina?"

"Mal!"

"Alina?" The second voice was a little harder to place, her eyes straining a little to see the features of the person it belonged to, until she finally recognized you.

"Y/N?" Alina took in your plain clothes, your winter boots, your traveling cape. Her mouth fell open in shock, was this why you had missed the fete? People had notice your absence, of course, and most were saying the reason for it was jealousy, that you were too bitter to stand there while the world watched Alina perform. Now she was starting to suspect different. "You're not wearing your keftka"

"Neither are you" You noted, stepping closer, and even in the dark Alina could see your gaunt, hollowed face, the bags under your eyes that looked too heavy to be just a day old. Genya must have helped you hide them, back at the little palace, but now you didn't need to keep your strong facade anymore.

Alina didn't know what to say. How many times had your suffering brought a smile to her face? She felt sick to her stomach remembering the dark satisfaction she had found in every new bit of gossip. The pleasure she had felt the morning Genya had presented her with a black keftka, the very next day after you had stopped wearing yours. The twisted joy when she woke up to a palace buzzing with rumours about you having moved out of the chambers next to the general's, the ones that had always been reserved for his personal heartrender but everyone knew what they really were for...

She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment as she confessed,

"He-... He lied to me" There was no need to clarify, there was only one man in the world she could be talking about.

"Yeah, he has a habit of doing that" Your voice was a weak murmur breaking a little at the end, and Alina felt a new pang of guilt hit her chest. She had hated you so much, when you had never been anything but polite to her, despite everything. Because you had never, ever done anything at all to deserve her animosity, other than being the lover of the man she had a stupid schoolgirl crush on.

Now she realized you both had been his victims.

"Not that I'm not all for reunions," Mal's voice made the both of you jump slightly. Had she really forgotten he was there? "But we'd do best to keep moving"

Mal, loyal Mal, pragmatic Mal, pushing all of his questions and feelings and thoughts aside until the task was done, until the three of you could find some shelter or some safe hideout... He didn't wait for your reply before starting to walk again, and you both followed him in silence for a couple of minutes, until Alina's brain decided to catch up with the bizarreness of the situation of having her childhood friend from Keramzin and her not-really-nemesis from the little palace and the darkling's second in command running away together.

But Alina wasn't as stoic as Mal. She voiced her thoughts,

"What are you doing together?"

You opened your mouth to reply but Mal beated you to it.

"She saved my life," He surprised her saying, "back at that old hag's hut"

"Baghra?"

You nodded.

"... How?"

"I never trusted the woman," You admitted without a trace of shame, "but lately, she has been behaving even weirder than usual, so I kept an eye on her cause I was convinced she was going to try something at the winter fete, while everyone was distracted. I mean," You gestured a little awkwardly to your peasant clothes, "It's what I would do, ehrm, did... Anyway, I saw Olga guiding him and another first army soldier to her hut, and then I saw Baghra attack them"

It still didn't answer why you had saved him, an otkazat'sya, when you were the general's second in command...

Alina only realized she had spoken out loud when Mal stopped dead in front of you and Alina almost crashed into his back.

"Wait, you are The Heartrender? The Darkling's Heartrender? The Serdtseyedka?"

Alina understood Mal's astonishment, you had a fearsome reputation: The stone-cold beauty that rode in the night alongside the Black General, glowing in the moonlight, stopping the hearts of entire garrisons with the flick of a wrist. But in front of them, there was just a girl, an ordinary looking girl with a tired demeanor and slightly slouched shoulders and the sallow complexion of someone who had spent days crying, that not even the glow the use of grisha powers could totally erase.

"I'm not the general's anything" You snapped, "Not anymore"

Alina nodded her confirmation at Mal. If he saw, he ignored her,

"Why did you save me?"

"When Olga announced you, I recognized your named" You sighed, "from the letters the general keeps at his desk in a locked drawer"

Alina gasped, a new dagger of pain finding its way into her chest. Her letters, of course he had intercepted them. Just when she didn't think he could be any worse, a new betrayal proved exactly how evil Aleksander really was.

"I don't know why Baghra wants you dead, though"

Mal rubbed his face with his hands, cursing the moment he had decided to take on the assignment,

"The stag. It has to be about the stag..."

You blanched,

"Wait, you found the stag? Morozova's stag?"

"Wait, what do you know about the stag?" Alina demanded.

"I-... I thought he had lost his mind" You explained, almost sheepishly, "That stag is a myth, a fairy tale!" You shook your head, regretful, "I should have known better, now all of us are in danger. Hell, the whole world is in danger! Alina, he wants your power! He plans to use the stag to control you!"

"I know, Baghra told me"

"Baghra? But then why would she-" Understanding dawned in your face, "Oh, saints! I saved the only chance Aleksander has at finding the stag..." You swore colourfully, very very colourfully. Enough for Mal's face to illuminate with amusement. Alina felt a faint stab of familiar jealousy at having the object of her affections show you attention, but she pushed it away. Now it was not the time, and you were too much of a powerful ally to reject. With you and Mal an an amplifier, she might actually stand a chance against the darkling...

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a glimmer of hope, and it felt as warm as her light.

She straightened, squaring her shoulders with resolve,

"Not if we find it first..."

***

The general was pacing his war room, shadows licking at his hills, eyes shinning with murderous intent. Ivan did not want to be the one to deliver these new set of news to him, not when he was already so... Upset. But the thought of leaving Fedyor do it was unacceptable, even if he was your personal heartrender/bodyguard. In the state he was in, Ivan knew being met with the cut after informing his boss of the new development was entirely within the realm of possibility, and leaving his husband be the one to face that was simply unthinkable.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before clearing his throat,

"Moy sovereingy?"

General Kirigan stopped in his tracks, turning to face him.

"Yes, Ivan? Do you have any news for me?" His tone was deceivingly calm, but Ivan knew better. He could hear his galloping heart after all.

Ivan gulped. He couldn't do this, oh saints help him, he couldn't!

"Well??" The general promoted, impatient.

Ivan opened his mouth, trying to get his tongue to work, the words to come out.

They wouldn't.

Kirigan huffed,

"If you're just going to stand there, gaping like a fish-"

"She's gone" He blurted out.

The general closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a clear effort not to kill his second best heartrender,

"Yes, I know miss Starkov-"

"Not her, sir. Y/N- lady Kirigan, your wife" Oh, great, now his mouth refused to stop, "She's not in her chambers"

The general froze.

"Ivan..." He started, slowly, as if he already knew the answer but refused to believe it, "If you mean the ones outside that door" He pointed at his left, to the double doors that led to the suite you had occupied for decades, "she vacated them last month..."

Please, say you mean those chambers, the plea hanged in the air between them. Ivan shook his head, mournfully.

"No, sir. Her chambers in the corporalki pavillion"

Aleksander felt his heart stop inside his chest, and he had to look at Ivan's hands to confirm that no, it wasn't the sullen heartrender's doing.

No. It couldn't be. You weren't gone. You couldn't be gone.

"Was she-"

Ivan shook his head again, interrupting him,

"No, sir. Some of her things are gone. She seems to have left by her own means"

In a blink, Aleksander was already halfway across the palace, marching into the corporalki wing, ignoring the curious looks of his grisha as he bursted through the doors of your new bedroom.

He was almost knocked back by your familiar scent, raspberry and peppercorn and something else, something peculiar and coppery and alive all corporalki seemed to have. The smell of the life force at the heart of the making of the world.

He almost wept at the sight of the magnificent kefta he had had made just for you, decadent velvet in blood red at the shoulders that gradually darkened until it finally pooled into the richest black at your feet, because if you refused to wear his colour, he would find a way to compromise, laying unused on your bed. You hadn't even made an appearance at the fete, he already knew that, his eyes had searched for you the entire night.

He had been so in edge, impatiently waiting for you to show up, he had almost snapped at Alina, having confused the room's sudden silence as a sign of your entrance. It had been almost impossible to push down his disappointment, he hadn't even been able to look at Alina as he said to her the compliment he had practiced all day to make to you.

Meanwhile, you had been making your escape.

He cursed the saints and himself, he should have seen it coming, the signs had all been there, you had been pulling away from him for months. You had abandoned his quarters, stopped wearing his colours, stopped going riding with him, avoided him at the halls of the palace, regarded him coldly at the dinning room, even when he started making an effort to show up to dinner almost every night, just to spend a few minutes with you.

And like a fool, he had believe you, time and time again, when you had reassured him after every new public rejection of your relationship that it meant nothing, that you loved him, that it was all to help him in his plan to woo the sun summoner and get her to fall for him.

Yet now you were gone, and he couldn't understand-

You couldn't have believed he actually loved Alina, could you? How, when you could hear his breath hitch every time he laid eyes on you, when you could feel his heart making summersaults inside his chest every time you touched him? And he wasn't quite sure how, but he knew you had to be able to see the sparks flying behind his eyelids every time he kissed you, the fireworks every time he made love to you, coming undone for you every time you called him yours, every time you repeated the single word vow that had tied your fates together almost a century ago: Forever.

No, you couldn't have left him.

He went through your closet, your vanity, your desk... He was right, something wasn't adding up: You had taken your jewels, but had left a whole bag of gold coins right there, had left your keftka but taken your equally easily identifiable cape, had left your signet ring but taken your silver and iridium wedding armband.

He could have hit his forehead with his palm, if the gesture hadn't been so completely undignified: Of course! It was so simple! The coins would have been untraceable, but the jewels would leave a trace, a very expensive trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. And you might not be wearing your keftka, but your midnight coloured cape was still so eye catching, so conspicuous, so obviously grisha. And there were only two grishas in the whole of Ravka allowed to wear that colour.

You may had run, but you wanted him to follow, you wanted him to find you-

His epiphany was rudely interrupted by Ivan and Fedyor, dragging a bruised Oprichnik into the room and throwing her unceremoniously at his feet.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. It was Fedyor the one to step up this time.

"Sir, she was found unconscious in the palace grounds, claims to have had a confrontation with Commander Y/L/N. Apparently, she was the last to see her"

It was as if a switch had been turn, and suddenly Aleksander was all general again, glaring at the blonde soldier on the floor down his nose.

"I find this hard to believe" He said, "if you had truly faced the commander, you wouldn't be alive"

"I know, moi sovereiny" She muttered, not daring to meet his eyes, "She said she only let me live because she had a message she needed me to deliver to you"

"Did she, now?" He quirked an eyebrow, suddenly feeling much more relaxed than he had been only two minutes ago. It was much more easier to find your dramatic antics amusing, now that understanding had replaced fear and desperation "And what message do you have for me, corporal?"

Olga fidgeted on the floor, unable to meet his gaze, muttering some incomprehensible gibberish under her breath.

"I'm sorry" The general's voice was dangerously soft, "I didn't quite catch that..."

"She said to tell you "I told you so"" Olga repeated more firmly, clearly wishing to have any other words to say to him than those, undoubtedly afraid she was going to be the one punished for your insolence.

But Aleksander only rolled his eyes in exasperation. He didn't need any further explanation, he had had the very same argument with you for months, with you taking every chance you got to tell him how idiotic his masterplan was, and how it would spectacularly blow up in his face sooner rather than later.

He internally counted to ten, mustering all of his patience I order not to kill the messenger, before exhaling,

"Anything else?"

Olga hesitated. Ivan pushed her with his foot, Aleksander making a mental note to have a talk about encouraging methods with him later.

"She also said to tell you that, luckily for all of us, she always has a plan B..."

Aleksander had to smile at that. Of course, that was what you were doing, he didn't know why he was even surprised. There was a reason you were his second in command, after all, you weren't only a beautiful face or one of the most powerful grisha he had ever met: you were also a formidable strategist, often a step ahead even of him.

All of at once, it was made clear to him exactly what you had been doing all these months of putting distance between them in public, and now running away on the very same night the sun summoner had disappeared, which coincidentally happened to be the same night the tracker had showed up with information about Morozova's stag...

He realized with a start that he knew exactly where you and Alina were heading.

"Ivan," He ordered the faithful heartrender, "Select a handful of our best grisha for a secret mission and prepare my carriage, we are leaving at dawn. Oh! And get David, he's coming with us"

"Kostyk, sir?" Ivan frowned in confusion, what could the shy durast possibly be doing in a mission?

"Yes, we will be needing a fabrikator" Aleksander declared for all explanation, "and make sure he wears his winter keftka. We are going to Tsibeya"

You go to an illegal underground sex party downtown and meet seven guys who fuck you too good.

Contains: Riding, missionary, crying tears of pleasure, pussy DP, overstimulation, mid air fucking, wall fucking, blowjobs, mention of other people having sex, rough sex, slow sex, y/n loves sex, anal with mention of it hurting before it feels good, one sentence of it ‘hurting good’, squirting, disassociating cause it feels so good, squirting, multiple members cumming in y/n, vibrator being used on y/n

Admin note: this is so fucking long, enjoy ;)

—

Jin

“Am I your first tonight?” The man, whose name tag said ‘Jin’ asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “First time being in this kinda place too.” You internally scolded yourself— why did you have to tell him that?

“You are beautiful.” He commented.

You laughed softly.

He smiled.

The two of you were alone in a small room. There were some sex toys and bondage equipment on the wall, and a massage table in the middle of the room. It was dimly lit and had a soft and sensual feeling to it. You were sitting on the older man’s lap on the red couch, his hands already exploring your body. You could feel his hardness beneath you.

“I’d love to see you ride me. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?” Jin asked as he started to kiss your neck.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Moments later, the both of you were undressed. “Mm, so big!” You shuddered as you pushed down on his length, his fingers squeezed into your sides as he guided you down.

Once he was all the way in, you placed your hands on his chest for balance as you started to ride him. He let out a groan, his hands roaming up and down your body, before finally cupping your breasts. He sat up and wrapped an arm around you, kissing your chest and sucking on your nipples. You held onto his head and kept riding him.

The older man started to thrust into you, and you cried out. His pace quickened, and his other hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed your sensitive bud, and you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

You whimpered and moaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours echoing through the room. In the distance, blaring music was heard, and it sounded like the couple next to this room were having a go at it as well.

“I’m so lucky to be the first to pound into this pretty pussy… you feel so good around me, baby.” He grunted, slowing down his pace to savor the moment.

You couldn't form any coherent thoughts, your body was buzzing, and your skin was tingling. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure you left marks on him.

“Come here…” He nudged you off his lap. “Go lay down for me, mm, just like that.”

You laid on your back, legs spread apart. He moved himself between them, he held onto his shaft as he entered you again, slowly and teasingly. He watched as you writhed underneath him, his hand snaking down to your clit once more.

You arched your back, the sensation was almost too much to bear. His cock filling you up and his fingers circling your sensitive nub. The man had a devilish grin on his face, enjoying the view of your body wriggling under him. He started to thrust faster, his hips pounding against yours, his length going deeper and deeper.

Jin leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly sucked on it. His other hand was on the side of your face, keeping you in place.

It was almost suffocating, the weight of his body on yours, his tongue dominating your mouth, his shaft buried deep within you, and his fingers stimulating you.

Your moans were muffled as the man above you kissed you, his hips not slowing down.

Jin let out a muffled grunt as he spilled into you, and you felt excitement rush through your body at the idea of him filling you up.

“Your cock feels so good! Mmm, please don’t stop. You feel so good inside me, fuck!” You winced, biting down on your bottom lip as you neared your release.

The man above you gave you one more hard thrust and rubbed your clit roughly, pushing you over the edge. You came, your body quivering as he continued to move inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

He slowed his pace, his length slipping out of you. He groaned as he rubbed himself, before he came all over your belly.

Yoongi and Hoseok

“Ah! Ah!” You winced, squeezing your eyes shut. Yoongi’s pace was slow, and the way he slowly filled your pussy drove you insane. Being filled up inch by inch was an amazing feeling. Your pussy stretched, but it felt so good. When you felt something poke against your cheek, you opened your eyes and saw a hard cock in your face.

You parted your lips and took in Hoseok’s cock. You moaned, sending vibrations through his cock. He groaned and tangled his hand in your hair, holding your head as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You sucked on him, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lick and tease him.

Yoongi continued his slow thrusts. You clenched around him, wanting him to go faster. Instead, he just chuckled, enjoying your whine when he pulled almost all the way out and went back in. He teased you, slowly filling you back up. Your whine was cut off by Hoseok pulling out of your mouth. He rubbed the tip along your lips and you kissed it, letting your tongue slide against the head, before he pushed it into your mouth again. Hoseok’s hand roamed to your breasts and he started kneading it and pinching the nipple. You gasped and arched your back, pushing your breast further into his hand.

Yoongi continued his pace for a little longer. You could feel yourself getting closer, your walls tightened and your moans grew louder. His pace was torturous, it wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hips snapped into yours, burying himself completely inside of you. Your legs trembled and you could feel your orgasm coming.

Yoongi leaned down and nipped at your ear, before whispering, "I can feel how close you are. So fucking tight. So fucking perfect. You're being such a good girl."

“Gonna cum…” You cried out, letting go and releasing. Your legs shook as pleasure coursed through your body. It was a long orgasm, the feeling lasting.

Yoongi grunted, his hands holding you tightly. He fucked into you faster and faster until his hips stilled, a warmth spread throughout you.

You both were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. You felt Yoongi pull out of you, and Hoseok took his place.

You giggled when Hoseok pulled you closer and picked you up, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you leaned in to kiss him. You gasped into the kiss as you felt him slide into you.

Hoseok moaned. You were already wet from cumming, so he was able to slide in easily. His pace was quick, desperate. His hips were slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. A few couples were near you, fucking each other. You didn't know them, but that just added to the experience. You loved how public sex was accepted in the club.

Yoongi's cum dripped out of you, down your legs. Your wet pussy and Hoseok’s saliva covered cock made such hot sounds. The squelching noise was loud, and you blushed, loving how lewd it was.

“Mm, fucking another man while filled with cum already, you are so dirty," Hoseok smirked, heading to the wall and pressing your back against it as he started to wall fuck you. Your back rubbed against the cool wall, and you closed your eyes, taking in all the sensations. Hoseok was a rough lover, and his thrusts were so hard and fast that your head kept banging into the wall.

“Fuck, fuck…” You whimpered, feeling how sensitive your pussy was. You had just came, but it was so good. Hoseok was making you feel amazing.

“Fuck, you take this cock like a champ.” Hoseok was pounding into you, the sound of your bodies hitting against the wall was loud. It turned you on. You knew others would hear and look over. You felt Hoseok reach one hand between your bodies, and you looked down, watching him rub your clit.

You clenched around him and felt another orgasm build up inside of you. You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut. Hoseok's thrusts were rough, the way his fingers moved on your clit was rough, it all felt too good. You felt so sensitive.

You cried out, your second orgasm washing over you. Your legs trembled, and if Hoseok wasn’t holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Oh, oh!” You whimpered when you felt Hoseok continuing to fuck into you. The pleasure was becoming too much. He was going too hard. You needed a moment to recover, but it felt so good. It hurt, it was too much, but it felt so good.

“Going. To. Fill. You.” Every word that rolled off his tongue was followed by a hard thrust into you.

"Ple-ease, oh, oh!" Your eyes widened and your toes curled as he released inside of you. His cum mixing with Yoongi's. It felt warm and full. You panted, catching your breath, and let your body go limp in Hoseok's arms. He held onto you, his cock still buried inside of you, before pulling out.

Namjoon

“Yes…” Namjoon grunted, head tilted back, his tongue resting over his bottom lip as he slid his cock in and out of your ass. His fingers were in your mouth, keeping you from speaking, you sucked and licked them, moaning around them, your own fingers clutching at the bedspread, trying to stay grounded against his hard thrusts.

The muscles in your body tensed and flexed, the pain from being stretched so wide mixing with pleasure that came when he pushed all the way in, your entire body tingling as you rocked with his hips.

Your toes were curling, you tried to moan around the fingers in your mouth, he kept the pace of his thrusts steady, a hand on your hip holding you still.

This all felt so dirty, you never would’ve thought that you’d let a man fuck you like this, but it felt so good, so intense.

Your pussy wasn’t lonely, Namjoon had pushed a vibrator in it. The buzzing sent waves through you, made the experience even better.

His fingers slipped out of your mouth, you gasped for air, feeling him shift his weight slightly. He gripped both of your wrists with one hand, keeping them locked behind your back, his other hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing as he pushed in deep.

You whimpered, your hips moving on their own, pushing back into his cock. You were losing control of your body, it felt so good, your pussy was clenching and quivering.

“You love having some stranger be the first, don’t you? Taking that cock so good, I’d think this wasn’t your first time, so fucking good. Get on all fours.” He was breathing hard, voice raspy, his words sending chills down your spine.

You scrambled to your knees, letting him move you, pushing your upper body down into the mattress. His hands gripped your hips, he pulled almost all the way out and slammed his cock back in.

You screamed, it felt so good, a deep throb of pleasure, you clutched the bedspread, your back arching, a whimper leaving your lips.

He fucked you hard, grunting with each thrust, you felt every inch of him inside you, every time he hit bottom it made you shiver, your mouth hanging open as you moaned and panted.

“Harder, harder!” You begged.

You were going to cum, you were right on the edge, you needed him to make you go over.

His fingers were in your hair, he gripped it and yanked, making your body bend, he thrust deep, your body tensing up, you bit your lip.

His fingers were around your neck again, his body leaning over yours, his chest on your back, he fucked you fast, hard, making the bed bounce.

You felt his breath on your cheek, a hand cupping your breast, a thumb flicking over your nipple.

It was too much, you were moaning, body convulsing as you came. He was still fucking you, hard, you couldn’t breathe, it was so intense, too much, but so good.

He was panting and groaning, his fingers squeezed your neck, you felt his dick swell inside you and then he came.

A loud, long groan, his cock twitched and filled you up, you shivered, feeling it leak out and run down your thighs.

Your body was weak, you felt him release your hair, you slumped down onto the bed, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

A stranger took your anal virginity and you loved it.

Jimin

“Mm, just like that.” Jimin cooed as he placed a hand on your head, his eyes filled with lust as he watched you take his cock deeper and deeper.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, and you were on your knees in front of him, pleasuring him with your mouth, your hands resting on his thighs for support.

You looked up at him with his dick in your mouth, and his eyes met yours. He smirked, running his fingers through your hair and tugging on it gently. You hummed in response, and you could feel the vibration of your throat against the tip of his cock, causing him to buck his hips, making you take his entire length. You gagged a bit, and he smiled, his hand still holding your head.

You soon moved to the bed, and he wanted to watch you ride him, so he laid on his back and watched you climb on top of him, his cock throbbing with need.

He watched as you hovered over him, taking his cock and rubbing it against your clit. You moaned as you rubbed him against your most sensitive area, and he could feel you getting wetter and wetter by the second.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You positioned yourself, and slowly, you sank down onto his cock, moaning loudly.

You stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being filled. “Your cock is so hard, filling me so nicely, feels so good…” You whispered as you placed your hands on his chest, and then you started moving.

Jimin watched as you moved on top of him, the sight of your tits bouncing turning him on even more, and the noises coming out of your mouth were music to his ears. His hands gripped onto your hips, pushing you down harder as you moved.

He was so deep inside of you, and the friction from his dick rubbing against your walls was making you dizzy. It didn't help that the room was starting to fill with the smell of sex, which only made you more horny.

Soon, the two of you were fucking hard, and the sound of your skin slapping together mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Mmm…” You whimpered, circling your hips before you started to bounce again.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jimin breathed out as he reached up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing against your hard nipples.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his touch sent sparks throughout your body, and you started bouncing faster. You weren’t sure how long you were riding him for when he stopped you. He pushed you down onto the bed, pinning your hands on the mattress before he wrapped his fingers around yours.

His body was pressed against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you, and he began to pound into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl. You couldn't stop moaning and writhing beneath him, and he loved watching you become undone.

The pleasure was so intense that you thought you might pass out, but then he started rubbing your clit and you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck, his tongue gliding along your skin. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck, and he took the opportunity to start sucking and biting it.

“You are hitting it just right…” You moaned, and he groaned against your skin, thrusting harder.

After a few more thrusts, he could feel his climax approaching, so he released your hands and sat up, pounding into you hard, his hands holding onto your ankles to spread your legs apart further.

You watched as his chest heaved, and his abs glistened with sweat. The look in his eyes was primal, and you knew that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, the way your pussy clenches around my cock, fuck, can’t get enough of you, babe, love fucking you like this, mmm, gonna make me cum.” Jimin’s hands now moved to your sides, holding you into place as he picked up the pace.

You reached up and grabbed onto his arms, digging your nails into his skin. The sound of his voice, the feeling of him deep inside of you, and his words, all brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, your whole body started to tremble, and you felt a surge of heat run through your veins. You came hard, and you couldn't help but moan loudly.

Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He came deep inside of you, groaning and growling.

When the two of you came down from your high, he collapsed next to you. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you.

Taehyung and Jungkook

Your hunger for cock was insatiable. Five cocks had already pounded your pussy, and you thought you were satisfied, but when one good looking man named Taehyung hit on you, followed by another good looking man named Jungkook, you felt your body ask for more.

Your head was tilted back, resting on Taehyung’s shoulder as you bounced your body up and down his cock, riding him. He gripped your hips, moaning your name, his face in your neck as his thick member slid in and out of your wet pussy.

The two males weren’t done with you just yet, Jungkook and Taehyung had taken you into multiple positions, you had sucked both of their cocks, and yet here you still were. Their staminas were amazing, and you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the night.

“Do you think she can take two cocks, Kookie?” You heard Taehyung ask his friend, who was sitting back and lazily stroking his dick while he watched the two of you fuck.

You gasped and pulled your head up, looking at the both of them in shock. Two? They wanted to fuck you at the same time?!

"Can you?” Jungkook asked you, and you felt both their eyes on you.

You had never had two cocks in you before, but you were so horny, you needed them, and you had a feeling that this would be the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“I want to try, I want both of you in me, please." You begged, and the two males chuckled, they found you adorable and hot at the same time.

"You heard her, let's go Kookie." Taehyung said, spreading your pussy with his fingers. “Is this your first time?” He asked.

“Yes…” You nodded.

He chuckled.

"Good. You deserve two big cocks for the first time." He teased, and kissed your neck.

Jungkook positioned himself in front of you, and rested his one hand on your thigh while his other held his length into place as he pushed himself into you, making you gasp.

Your hand went over your mouth, and you felt him stop, waiting for your cue. You looked over at him, nodding for him to keep going.

“O-oh…” You whimpered as your pussy was filling with two cocks instead of one. It was an odd feeling, and you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure you were feeling.

Jungkook leaned in and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply as he pushed into your dripping cunt, helping your body get used to the size of his cock.

“So full, so stuffed, ah!” You whimpered, desperately trying to grasp onto anything. Fuck, you felt like your pussy was stretched to the max. Their cocks felt so amazing, you squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as you felt Jungkook push further into your pussy.

Your walls were being spread as far as they could go, and it was so damn amazing. You didn’t even realize that something like this was possible, oh fuck, they were stuffing you so nicely.

You had only gotten a taste of what it was like to have two men fill you up at the same time, and now you were addicted.

Jungkook paused when he managed to fill you with his every inch, and the two men started to kiss you against the face, switching up from your face to your lips as they allowed your pussy to get used to the large intrusion.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes and nodded, letting them know that it was okay to move.

“O-oh!” You shuddered as Taehyung started, moving in and out of you in a slow pace.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and your body was pushed back against his, allowing him to thrust up into you while you were sat on his lap. Jungkook followed a few seconds later, when Taehyung slid out, Jungkook slid in, and one and off they followed this same rhythm.

You couldn’t even close your mouth, drool dripping down the side of your lip as they fucked you. You could feel them, oh fuck, you could feel them hitting the deepest parts of your body, and it was making your body tingle. The drool fell on your chest, a puddle collecting.

“You like that? Dirty girl?” Jungkook purred.

You couldn’t even talk, you could only answer with a moan.

"You like having two cocks in your little slutty cunt, huh?" Taehyung added, licking his lips.

Oh fuck, yes, you loved it, you couldn't explain how much you were enjoying this.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling, feeling their large dicks move in and out of you, making you feel full, so very full.

“Doing so well for your first time, your body was made to take two big cocks at the same time, isn’t that right baby girl? So fucking sexy and slutty for us, yeah?"

“Love two cocks in my pussy, mmm, love it so much." You whimpered, throwing your head back as they started to go faster.

They switched it up this time, now they both pounded in and out of you at the same time, fucking you hard and deep. You were shaking, gripping the sheets as they pounded away at you, fucking you hard enough to make you scream.

The bed rocked under you, the mattress creaking as you were fucked hard by the two guys.

They didn't slow down, not one bit, and your screams were so loud that people from the next room could hear, and you didn't give a single shit. You had two cocks in you and it was the best experience ever.

You were a mess, you were dripping, soaking the bed with your juices, and your body was twitching with pleasure, oh fuck.

Taehyung took a break while Jungkook pounded into you, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you passionately.

When it was time for Jungkook to take a break, Taehyung thrusted into you, and you moaned against his mouth, his tongue slipping into yours.

Tongue against tongue, two cocks against one pussy, lips against lips, moans against moans. It was all too much, but at the same time, not enough.

“What is your favorite, babygirl? Tell us how you like us to fuck you.” Taehyung whispered against your ears.

You whimpered exactly how you wanted their two cocks to fuck you, and they happily listened to your wish.

“Ah! Ah!” Tears built up in your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks, you couldn’t handle it anymore. This felt so fucking good, having your pussy abused and used like this, sandwiched between those two men as they beat your pussy up, oh the way those long thick cocks filled your pussy to the brim, the way their cocks were stretching your pussy walls out, and the way they were abusing your g spot, it was all too much.

Your moans and whimpers turned into cries and screams. You couldn't take it anymore. You had been fucked by five other men before these two, and you had already cum so many times, and the overstimulation was really hitting you now.

"Fuck her harder, Kookie, she can take it."

They were going harder than before, if that was even possible, and you were seeing stars. You had never felt this amount of pleasure before.

Your toes curled, and your eyes rolled back, your mouth wide open as your body went limp against Taehyung, the room spinning as their cocks continued pounding into you without mercy.

The men knew that you were about to orgasm, and they kept going, knowing that you could take more.

Taehyung gripped onto your breasts, kneading into them, and he and Jungkook were panting heavily. You could hear their breathless moans, and they were whispering sweet things to you.

You were a drooling, twitching, sobbing mess, and the men were loving it. They loved seeing their slutty girl getting her pussy stretched by their cocks, they loved the way your pussy clenched around them, the way it dripped all over them.

Their dirty words, their hands all over your body, their cocks in your pussy, their mouths kissing all over you… You never wanted this to end.

“Cum… cum..” You didn’t know how to talk anymore, feeling light headed and delirious as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You didn’t even know where you were anymore or what your name was, the world was spinning and blurry, and all you could focus on was the feeling of their cocks.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” It felt so close, your whole body started to shake heavily, your eyes unable to focus on anything as your toes curled, and the intense pleasure washed over you. It took over your whole body and the heat washed through every inch as you orgasmed; it was the best one you had in your whole life, it felt like heaven.

The pleasure was too intense, and you were screaming as you were hit with wave after wave of pure bliss. You came all over their cocks, squirting so much, and you could hear them moan, the sounds of their voices sending you even higher.

Their thrusts grew sloppy and slow, both enjoying how you orgasmed around their cocks, yet eager to fill you up with their cum.

"That's it baby, milk our cocks with that tight pussy, yeah, fuck." Jungkook hissed.

Your pussy was still throbbing and squeezing around them, and the two men groaned.

Taehyung's arms tightened around your waist and he growled, pushing his cock in as deep as he could and released his seed, groaning in pleasure.

Jungkook picked up the pace and he did the same, digging his fingers into your thighs as he filled you with his seed.

They kept thrusting as they came, and the feeling of their hot, sticky, cum inside of you, and their cocks twitching inside of your sensitive pussy, made you squirt again, your body trembling.

You were left gasping and panting, trying to catch your breath. Your vision was still hazy and it took you a few moments before the room stopped spinning.

You were laid down on the bed, you weren’t even sure by who, as you laid there trying to catch your breath. You could feel the bed was soaked underneath you.

Fuck, this was the best day of your life.

Nobody does it like Taylor and her black and white albums

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex

WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)

Summary: 

Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.

So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“Can I get you a drink, princess?”

When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year. 

Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead. 

The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.

The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture. 

The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.

Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.

Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.

But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.

“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”

“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”

“How much you bench?”

It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.

Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.

Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less. 

They can’t stand it.

And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together. 

Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for. 

Princess.

Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown. 

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”

Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.

You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.

Four, six, eight? 

Fuck.

You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does. 

His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.

“See something you like?” 

He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.

“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”

You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.

The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin. 

You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.

Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.

A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.

You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship. 

However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.

God, get yourself together.

To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard. 

You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention. 

Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.

You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely. 

To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’. 

“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”

“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”

“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”

Bullshit.

It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.

But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.

Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.

You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.

Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today. 

You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.

Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.

“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”

There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later. 

You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.

“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”

You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.

“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”

You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. 

“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”

You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.

Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war. 

You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’ in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.

The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—

The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.

“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.” 

Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.

It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices. 

“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”

“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.

In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”

When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat. 

“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”

It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today. 

Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh. 

Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude. 

Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.

“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”

He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.

“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”

That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage. 

But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.

And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.

So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression. 

“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”

Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath. 

“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.

“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.

You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot. 

“The whole package, princess.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.

His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now. 

You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think. 

Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.

“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.

He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.

“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”

“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.

He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.

“What’s it going to take?”

His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.

“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”

He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.

“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.

“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”

He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.

“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.

He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”

He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”

But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”

Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior. 

Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it. 

“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”

At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess. 

His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you. 

The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.

She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.

“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”

***

He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.

“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.

“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.” 

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off. 

You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.

You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.

“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way. 

Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.

Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—

“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.

“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”

He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.

Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.

“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth. 

“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.

She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”

“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”

She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”

There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.

And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it. 

Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.  

Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.

You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.

“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips. 

One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”

You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.

Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.

“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.

“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”

You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.

***

“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.

You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits. 

You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”

For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease. 

It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”

You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.

“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.” 

For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.

You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.

You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.

“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them. 

He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.

“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.

It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.

So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.

Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.

“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.

You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”

“Cali?’ he questions, confused.

You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”

“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”

“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.

“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”

You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh. 

“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”

The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”

“In relation to what?”

His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—

“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”

He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.

You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”

The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.

“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.

“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”

You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond. 

“I…depends…are you any good?”

He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.

“Jury’s still out.”

You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.

You deserve a reward.

So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.

“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”

You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.

***

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent. 

You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.

Should you tell Toji goodbye?

No.

No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—

For fuck’s sake.

You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.

You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.

Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight. 

“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.

“Why not?”

Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”

Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.

Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist. 

One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.

“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.

He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of. 

His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.

You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.

He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—

You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—

He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger. 

“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.

One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.

You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.

“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”

You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed. 

You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.

“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.

You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.

He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.

“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”

You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.

But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”

Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.

“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.

He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.” 

The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.

Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right. 

And god, does Toji do it right.

He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling. 

The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel. 

“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”

He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart. 

Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.

“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”

His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.

By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.

“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges. 

“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”

With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him. 

“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”

“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.

“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt. 

“Is that a problem?”

The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.

“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”

Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.

So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time. 

You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—

“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.

Huh?

You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.

“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.

He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before. 

“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”

“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.

Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.

He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.

It’ll pass.

And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.

“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.” 

When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.

Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.  

He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.

“Hop on, princess.”

Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.

Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.

You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.

“Am I nice and hot?”

“Yes, fuck yes, baby.” 

It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours. 

You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.

“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”

You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.

“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”

He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.

You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again. 

You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.

His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in. 

He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter. 

“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”

He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.

“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”

You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.

“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.” 

You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask. 

The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.

You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.

The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.

There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.

The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.

“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.

“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”

“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”

Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.

Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.

“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”

The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--

‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’

It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.

You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels. 

He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on. 

His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you. 

You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.

“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.

“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line. 

“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”

His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders. 

The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.

He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him. 

“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”

He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.

He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat. 

When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you. 

“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”

Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.

You lied.

Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder. 

Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you. 

It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone. 

The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.

***

“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later. 

It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.

You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure. 

As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.

“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”

“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”

“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”

She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.

“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”

James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.

“Girl, fuck you.”

Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.

Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint. 

“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”

Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”

“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”

“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”

You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil. 

You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.

You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.

“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”

“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”

“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.

You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”

He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.

“Listen—”

You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”

That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.

“Fuck, will you stop—”

“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.

“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.

“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes. 

He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”

“I said—”

“Oh my fucking god—I like you!” 

His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.

“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod. 

“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.

“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”

He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.

“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.” 

You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.

“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”

What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is. 

“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.

He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches. 

“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”

It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them. 

“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.

That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it. 

“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me.”

“I…”

It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it. 

The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.

“One date, princess.”

The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth. 

Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.

You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards. 

“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”

He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door. 

“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.

He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.

For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”

You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—

A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.

When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.

You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.

When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier. 

You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.

Thanks for reading!

happy anniversary to louis’ confession scene that would have gotten jacob anderson multiple Emmys if we lived in a perfect world

Wassup Thorbruce stans

alex and eric edit … i’m going to pass out … i’m seeing stars … i’ve never been happier

Daily freak post 😛😛😛

I’m regaining my strength to write more stuff. This is in honor of @operationandre

This is literally one of my favorite movies of all time. I have it on dvd and I still watch it all the time. It's a good superhero movie, it's a good teen movie, it's a good MOVIE.

It's bright and colorful and doesn't take itself too seriously.

It's about not fitting in, and being afraid to disapoint people, and dealing with peer pressure and people who hate you for things that aren't your fault and just learning to accept yourself.

The cast is small enough that even minor characters get fairly decent characterization, there's so much chemistry between everyone (I'm talking about platonic chemistry, but the romantic tension between Layla and Warren is the fucking best EVER).

These feel like real people, not characters, and I can't really think of another movie I've seen (other than Hellboy and Marie Antoinette) that made characters so likeable and believeable that I forgot I was actively watching a movie and just enjoyed the story.

And Zach is the most lovable character ever created, I will cherish and protect him

I dont see a lot of people talk about Sky High, but man was it a fun movie.

Who could forget such favorites as…

Wonder Bread Boy

Non-Poison Ivy

Guinea-Goth 3000

White Zuko

Me At Family Reunions

Shine Bright Like A Diamond.mp3

Practical Female Armor

All Aboard The Magic Hell-Bus

and everyone’s favorite:

Megamind as performed by Pleakley