“Oh, that’s it, is it?”
─୨ৎ─── P. S. H.
Pairings: Alpha!Sunghoon x Omega!Reader
W.C.: 5.5k!
Warnings!: SMUT(mdni!), knotting, slapping, dubcon (if you squint), blood, scratching, choking/gagging, car sex, unprotected sex (no), ABO, Unexpected heat cycle, Alpha/Omega, degradation…
(Reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated!!)
A/N: Oh Em Gee!!! This is my first completed fic EVER!! I’ve picked up writing not too long ago so I’m not a professional or anything… And I don’t know much about abo so pls I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions, don’t hold back! Enjoy:3 PS: Header divider and other images are from pinterest!
The first thing that he notices is your attitude.
"Don't fucking stare, you prick." You huff.
Your leg is bouncing against the plush flooring of his sedan, your arms crossed over your chest in a defensive posture he knows all too well. Okay, this is normal.
"Wasn't staring." He mutters with a weak snarl, fidgeting with the rubber cover on his steering wheel.
The second thing he notices is your scent.
Peachy sweet with an undercurrent of something sharp and defiant. Almost earthy like the rain or wet grass, but clean and sharp like eucalyptus.
Normal, again. But something feels off today. Your scent… it's stronger than usual. Heightened. He could tell the second you stepped into his raggedy sedan that… your scent is off. It slapped him in the fucking face, for Christ sakes. Usually the first note that hits him is your earthy, sharp scent. Defiant and unwilling, your Omega teeth bared(cute.) Its something he can almost always count on. But you're unusually… sweet this evening.
"Just drop me off at the pub, asshole." The least you could do is look at your driver when you request a drop off.
Your head is stubbornly turned toward the passenger window, staring out at God knows what— just anything that isn't him, really. Your leg is still bouncing up and down restlessly. Tap, tap, tap.
"The pub? Why—"
"None of your fucking business, why." You spit, teeth clenched so tight he can see the muscles in your neck working, twitching and pulsing like they're trapped, fighting to escape.
You're awfully restless this evening.
Not only is your leg bouncing still, but your nails are digging into your skin where they're crossed over your chest, leaving crescents into the soft flesh of your arm. Your other hand plays idly with the hem of your shirt, and your gaze is still averted like looking at him— no, even letting him see your face would be grave.
But he can still see you, and your body is telling him more than anything your words ever could.
"Just shut up, take me to the pub, drop me off, and drive away." You smile something cruel and mocking, your nails pressing deeper into your skin. "That's all you're good for anyway."
He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Driving is all I'm good for?" That doesn't earn a response from you who's clearly more focused on trying to stay calm.
You have… tells.
Your breathing is uneven, poorly controlled. Shaky and almost ragged. Your leg is bouncing even faster now and you look so strung like you could snap at any given second. He's surprised you haven't managed to break skin on your arm already.
Then he hears it. Something so soft, almost lost in the sound of his car's engine. But no, he heard it. Clear as day. A whimper.
And it hits him. Again. A thick, cloying wave. Something so sweet and suffocating he almost recoils. Your scent.
His nostrils flare and fucking burn from the sheer potency of your sex. His chest rises up and down with quickening breaths, his own body traitorously responding to yours. A low, unmistakable rumbling sound stirs in his chest, nearly clawing its way up and out of his skin like it would wrap its claws around you if it could.
The sound goes unheard by you, swallowed by the hum of the engine.
He swallows. Hard. His knuckles are white where they're now gripping his steering wheel, and his own leg starts to bounce with restless energy.
Everything is heightened. Your scent, his own sharpening in response to your call. Your proximity feels even slimmer, more suffocating. He feels so fucking claustrophobic that his throat is tight, mouth fucking dry until it wets and nearly drools at the sight of you.
The thought of you. The thought that you're probably so fucking slick in your panties right now that you're dripping onto his seat. The thought that he could taste you if he really wanted to. Lick the slick right off of your swollen fucking folds, suck your clit and fuck you open on his fingers until you clenched and pulsed around him, begging him to just stuff and knot you instead.
You're sweating. He can fucking smell you. Your skin is flushed from your cheeks to your neck, a rosy, feverish blotch disappearing under the neckline of your shirt that's gone wet and sticky, clinging to your collarbone and chest as you fucking heave.
He watches you reach over with a trembling hand to turn on the AC, blasting it on its highest setting.
"It's fucking h.. hot in here." You sigh in relief that's short lived, fanning out the neckline of your shirt as you lean your head back against the headrest, the cool air doing nothing at all to satiate the heat that feels like it's welling up under your very skin.
When he makes no move to actually drive, you snap. "Are you going to fucking drive? Take. Me. To. The. Pub."
"You're going to the pub… like this?" He questions, his voice tight and controlled. You finally look at him. Your pupils are fucking dilated, your cheeks rosy, forehead sweaty. Like fucking hell he's letting you near any pub— no, any public place in general. Taking you anywhere while you're like this, all needing and vulnerable, is a recipe for disaster. Any hungry, disgusting Alpha that caught sight of you wouldn't waste a fucking second taking advantage of you— His teeth clench so fucking hard he swears he hears a crack.
Fuck. No.
"Like what?!" You whine at an octave that clearly signals your growing impatience. You're sweating properly now, and you're trying (and failing) at hiding how you grimace and recoil every time a surge of heat clamps down on your tummy with every torturous second that you're not being fucked and filled.
You must be fucking crazy. Why the hell would you ever want to go out in this state anyway? To a fucking pub on a Friday night where any waiting, predatory Alpha could find you and fucking—
Oh. Right. He gets it now. You need a little… help, don't you?
He smirks cruelly.
"Ohhhh, that's it, is it?" He turns more toward you, his posture deliberately relaxed though his chest is coiled tight with something hot and possessive. "You don't have an… Alpha of your own, do you? You haven't been knotted, haven't been claimed, hm?" He tilts his head, his tone of voice so soft almost like a purr that contradicts with his aggravating, challenging sneer.
You feel fucking sick, your cheeks burning with indignance. "Excuse m—" "Ah-ah. Did I say you could speak?" He presses a calloused finger right against your lips.
"WHA-" "Checks out, really. Explains why you're so… pent up. Tense, and bitchy." His palm is properly pressed against your mouth now, effectively muffling any indignant sound or biting remark, and you don't even… fight it.
Just kidding. You? Of course you fucking fight it.
Your nails claw and drag down the expanse of his arm taking the same path as a bulging vein, causing him to hiss. But he doesn't relent. He just presses harder, and he leans in closer, your heat throbbing traitorously as your proximity lessens.
"Don't—" He huffs, frustrated air that slaps right against your cheeks. "Keep your hands to yourself, you fucking brat." He emphasizes the insult with a push to your head, finally releasing your mouth and you immediately gasp and retort.
"ME?! Keep MY hands to MYself?!" Your voice raises, arms flailing incredulously like you cannot fucking believe his audacity, and he just leans back against his drivers side door, completely amused and completely unbothered.
Feigned nonchalance. Sunghoon is practically thrumming with the same furious sexual energy you naturally radiate. Christ sakes, he can fucking smell you.
He can see you. Your body's turned more toward him now despite the derisive way you scoff and snarl, the dismissive way you brush off your clothes like his touch was repelling enough for you to do so. Then his eyes flit down. Not to your chest, no. He's already seen the lacy material of your bra through the thin whiteness of your "shirt" that's now stuck to you like a second skin. No, further down.
To your leggings. To your thighs, and he watches them tremble with anger and something else. Then higher.
Christ. He knew you were needy but fuck. He didn't know you were this needy. Your leggings are already black but you've managed to make them deeper, darker in the dip right between your fucking thighs.
You're fucking drenched. A whole wet patch is stained right against your fucking cunt and he swears he can see it throb under his gaze.
He swallows hard, biting back drool and nausea and fucking want. No, a primal need to tie you down and fuck his knot into you so deep you—
"Get out." Your hand scrambles for the door handle. Wait— fuck. That's not what he fucking meant. Get out? Is he crazy?
"Stop— Don't fucking move." You freeze, not willingly. But your body… your Omega halts under the demanding tone of his Alpha. Under his command.
"Good." He takes a deep, controlled breath, his jaw tight. It looks painful. "Get in the back."
You whip your head around so fast, your mouth open and ready to deny, to hold onto any semblance of control as your body already betrays you and unbuckles your seat.
"Wha- why?!" "Jesus Christ, stop fucking yelling." He closes his eyes, breathing slow like he's trying to hold back. His entire— entire body is so tense you can almost see the tremor in his legs he's trying so hard to suppress. "Stop yelling and get in the back."
Your seatbelt is undone. "I am not getting in the back!" He opens his eyes and says… nothing. He stares at you. And stares. Stares some more.
Then a cruel twist of lips. He's smirking.
"Did I not just tell you to stop yelling?" He shifts slightly in his seat, his knee coming up to rest on the console between you. "Brat. You're such a fucking brat." Then he's suddenly shifting, lunging across the console to your side and reclining your chair, straddling your hips and pinning your hands at your sides.
He leans down into your face, his lips so close to your ear that they skim across your skin as he speaks next and you can't help but fucking shiver. "Do I need to fucking pin you down to get you to listen to me?"
"Ack- What the hell?! Get off of me, you asshole!" You wriggle uselessly under his grip, but he remains unyielding. He's too big, too strong to gain any sort of footing. You're effectively trapped. And you're really, really fucking horny.
You've got 6 foot of fucking Alpha pinning you down, his thighs bracketing your hips, his lips pressing against your neck with teasing kisses and nips to your scent glands, and his own scent wrapping around you so strongly you cannot fucking think straight. Holy shit you don't think you've ever thrummed with such fucking pleasure in your whole life, your entire body is singing in response to his Alpha's mere proximity to your Omega. You're fucked.
"Get off of you?" His tone is soft, deceptive. "Mmm… No." Your body… it's too far gone to fight back. Not like you could anyway, he's got you pinned. But that doesn't mean you won't use your words. "What the literal fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?! Anyone could see!" You turn your head anxiously toward the window where the view inside is 100% unrestricted (fishbowl ass car), but he doesn't let your gaze stray far. He grips your chin and turns your face back toward him, and when he speaks again his face is so close to yours that you can feel his lips brush against your own.
"Y/n." He whispers. "Stop denying this. You need me, don't you? Need my knot." He presses on closer, your lips flush, and you whine into his mouth. "Need me to fuck you full, is that right?" You whimper with a frantic nod, your lips moving in hasty kisses against his own that won't reciprocate. He's just… still.
"Needy fucking whore." He pulls back abruptly, leaving you shocked and flushed, and your cheeks burn brighter at his insult. "Needy whore?! You're the one who fucking pounced on me!" Your body writhes and squirms under him, your legs attempting to kick him off. "Get off of me then!"
"Tsk, tsk." He tuts, never once lessening his hold on you, never budging a single inch. "But you," He shifts his leg, shoving it right between yours and pressing it up against your aching core. You arch almost immediately, a needy, pathetic sound escaping your lips before you could even stifle it. "You're so wet and so fucking needy." He rubs his kneecap right against your clit, watching you writhe and break beneath him. "Mm, that's it… feel it."
"You get into my car asking me to drive you to a pub in the middle of your heat and for what? To get laid by some whore Alpha who probably couldn't even make you come— no, who probably wouldn't even think of making you come?" He laughs breathy and disbelieving, shaking his head. "Why do that, hm?" He leans in, and you bite your lip and stifle the moan that threatens to surface when he nips your sensitive scent gland and rubs his knee harder against your clit simultaneously. Fuck, is he trying to kill you?
"Why go through all that trouble when you could've just asked me?" You make a disapproving noise that's really just a moan. "Ask you? Fu— hah… Why the hell would I do that?" He only smirks against your skin, and bites down harder. "Shit! Ow, stop that!"
"Y/n." He pulls back to look at you, his hands still clamped down on your wrists at either side of your hips. "I'm going to fuck you." He shakes his head. "No. I'm going to claim you. Do you understand?"
You don't respond. Well, not with words at least. But he doesn't need verbal confirmation when your body tells him everything he needs to know.
Claimed? He may as well had wiggled a red fucking cloth in front of a bull. Your Omega is thrumming with pure ecstasy, and your body responds with another gush of slick as you arch and rub down onto his knee.
"Holy— yessss, fuck. Look at you." He rubs you harder against his jeans, clearly feeling the weight of his words. "Did you just fucking… Fuck, you're so wet for me I can feel it— I can see it. Fucking whore."
"I'm not a fucking whore!" You whine in need as you continue to grind faster now, but it's not enough. You need more, more, more. You need—
"Fucking— UGH! FUCK ME ALREADY!"
There's a pause.
Then, "Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his lips. "I'm not a fucking whore!~" He mocks, throwing your words back at you.
"God you are such a fucking di— ngh!" Your words are cut off as he suddenly removes his knee and replaces it with his hand, cupping you through your soaked leggings, smearing your slick all over his fucking palm before removing it and bringing it up to his face, watching it glisten in the light.
He sniffs his hand greedily. "God, fuck." Then, like the fucking freak he is, he licks his palm from the base to the tip of his middle finger, smearing your slick all over his tongue, shoving his finger into his mouth and sucking off with a pop that makes you shiver and gush more.
"Mmm." He closes his eyes as if savoring the taste. "So fucking good. So good." And when he opens his eyes, they're more dilated and intense than you've ever seen them. His scent is even stronger now, something woodsy and coaxing and fucking primal.
"Take them off." He doesn't wait for you to comply, already shoving his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down in one harsh, firm pull that makes you gasp. "W-wait—" He immediately freezes and looks at you.
"NO!" You slap a hand over your mouth. "I- I mean keep going… don't stop… please." He blinks for a moment, then a slow, infuriating smirk splits his features. "Sorry?" He questions, feigning genuine confusion. "What was that?" He has your pants yanked halfway down to your calves, the only thing covering you being your underwear that may as well be a second fucking skin with how drenched you are, yet he thinks now is the time to tease and push your limits?!
"I didn't mean wait, you dumbass! Just… just do it!"
"Do what?"
"Are you—"
You let out a frustrated sound almost like a growl that just has him grin even wider. "Do… what?" At this point you're considering just walking yourself to the damn pub to find someone better. If they won't make you come at least they'll skip the small talk and fucking touch you.
"Touch me, you fuckin—"
"Say please."
"HUH?! I JUST— ngh- ahhh…"
He presses the pad of his thumb directly onto your swollen, throbbing clit, right over your drenched underwear, rubbing tight, furious circles that make your head spin and pussy clench around nothing but air. God, it aches. You need to be filled. Like now. "Touch? Like this?"
"AH— yes! Just like that!" You arch and moan, bucking into his hand like a fucking slut begging for more friction as if you can't get enough. And truthfully… you can't. You need more, much more.
"M-more…" You whine as his thumb continues it's relentless rubbing. "More?" He stops and your eyes widen with a gasp. "NO—" "Ah-ah." He cuts you off, pushing you back down by the shoulder when you try and sit up. "Say please."
One word. You need to say only one word, one, and you get everything you've been asking and aching for.
"Eat shit and die."
Well I can't help you there.
"Right."
You don't know how it happens. The world spins and suddenly you're on your stomach, ass up, back arched and completely fucking exposed. Wait…
"Such a dirty fucking mouth on you." Slap. "How should I tame you, hm?" Slap. "OW!—" He yanks your underwear down in one swift motion, the cool air hitting your heated skin causing you to clench around nothing and hiss through your teeth.
Okay, now you're completely exposed.
"Get!— AHHhhhnnng……" You have no time to process when he abruptly shoves two fingers into your sopping cunt, splitting you fucking open on his thick fingers over and over and over again even as you writhe in pain just cause he likes to hear how wet you are for him. "Ah, hear that?" The satisfaction in his voice and scent is thick as he continues to fuck you open on his hand, searching for that sweet spot that has you crying out in both pleasure and pain at the stretch.
"Right there! Right there! Don't stop!" The amount of fucking relief you feel is indescribable. You think even drugs can't feel this fucking good as your forehead lolls against the headrest, bouncing up and down from the sheer force he's fucking you with.
Then he pulls out. The world stops.
"NO— mmph!" He's cruel, really.
"What's that? Can't talk now, can you?" He taunts, two slick fingers shoved into your mouth deep enough to make you gag, his other hand a fist in your hair. Well, he's right, at least. You can't talk.
"Ngh.. I… agh—"
"Hm? Speak up, I can't hear you~" Oh, what a fucking dick. You bite down, hard.
"Shit." Well it worked at least, because he abruptly pulls his fingers out. "You're worse than I thought." You turn your head enough to throw a triumphant look in his direction until—
"AH!"
He fucking digs his five nails into the globe of your ass. Just digs them in, a fistful of fucking flesh under his sharp, merciless nails, deeper, deeper, and deeper still.
"AH, NO— OW!" You shake, buck, squirm, you even swat at his arm. He doesn't let up, just bites his lip as he looks down at you as you fucking writhe in pain like a sick fucking sadist.
"You can take it." He murmurs, quiet, almost like he didn't even mean to say it out loud. "I— I can't! It hurts, you asshole! Stop!" He sinks the sharp daggers into the soft flesh deeper until the skin breaks and you feel the warmth of your own blood dripping down the side of your fucking ass.
Eventually, he stops, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the wound making you jolt. "Good girl." He praises, and you can hear the smugness in his voice as he scoops up your blood, sucking it off his thumb with a sick, wet noise.
"Did you just— you're so gross!"
"And?"
"And?! And?! You're sick! Absolutely sick! You literally just dug your nasty nails into my fucking ass cheek and licked the blood!"
Silence. A beat. Then,
"They're not nasty."
You really, truly cannot believe it. "Oh my god. Oh my GOD! Just get me out of here! I can't do this anymore!" You begin you push yourself up on unsteady arms. "If you're not going to FUCK ME, then I'm fucking leaving! Ack—"
He fucking shoves your head back down with a force that nearly knocks you out. He keeps his hand there, a rough, uncompromising pressure as he leans down and whispers in your ear, his voice tense.
"I told you to keep your fucking voice down, did I not?" When you don't respond he applies more pressure, shoving your head further against the seat. "I said, did I not?"
"Mhmmph." You nod as much as his grip will allow, feeling and wallowing in his dominance.
"Good. Now, leave? And go where? To the fucking Pub to be fucked by some scum? Really?" You hear him scoff. His grip tightens on your head to an almost painful degree, his voice a possessive drawl. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay here in my car, take my cock, my knot, my cum until your pussy is full and satisfied. Understood?" You shudder, just fucking shudder when he drags his hard cock along your ass.
"Mhmmph." His grip loosens and he pushes himself back up to look at you, really look. "Good fucking girl." He drawls, the satisfaction in his voice evident as he gropes your ass, taking each cheek into his hands and pushing them together, watching them jiggle as he lets go. You're still sore from his nails, and you have to bite down on your tongue when he slaps over the wound just to watch you recoil.
What a sick fucking sadist.
"That. Hurts." You grit out.
"Don't give a shit. Arch."
You comply, your muscles already sore from the awkward way you have to lay on this damn seat. He hums in approval, his scent sharp and eager, and he soothes his palm over the mark. Well he must think it's soothing but it's really not since his palms are so fucking calloused. You whimper but you take it, being in no position to argue and just wanting to be fucked all fucking ready.
Then you hear it. His belt unbuckling. Then his buttons and finally, his zipper. God, you could just moan in sheer delight at the fucking sound.
"Finally…" You didn't even mean to say it, truly.
"What was that?" You hear him pause, his zipper only halfway down. Fuck. Okay, don't panic.
"I.. I said.." You arch back against him, shaking your ass (hopefully) coaxingly. "Please. Fuck me?" You hear him unzip his jeans the rest of the way, the fabric giving as he finally slides them down his hips and you just squeeze your eyes shut and thank the lord above for this blessing.
"Mm. Since you asked so nicely." He hums, taking himself in his hands and stroking once, twice, slowly, just watching the way you arch and clench around air, still so fucking slick that you're glistening in the light. Then he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his fat, swollen tip through your folds and catching it purposefully, cruelly, onto your clit.
"Don't tease…" You pleade, your cheek squished against the headrest as you crane your neck to the side as much as you can just to catch a glimpse of him. And when he prods his tip at your entrance, a cold, doom-like feeling washes over you, and suddenly you take everything back. It's comical, really, how a huge cock could make you never want to have sex again instead of the highly implied opposite…
"Ready for me?" He doesn't wait, pushing just the tip past your tight, yielding entrance, your walls already clamping down on him hard enough to make you gasp and him grit his teeth in attempt not to shove all of himself inside with one brutal thrust. "Shit, open up for me…" He grits out, his body trembling like he's forcing himself to hold back. He grunts as he sheaths inch by torturous fucking inch inside your poor cunt, and all you can do is just lay there and take it because after all, this is what you asked for.
No amount of fucking slick could ever— ever be enough to make this process any smoother. It's slow and fucking painful, and it only angers you more knowing that you're the only one feeling the pain. So what do you do? You reach back and dig your nails into his forearm as hard as you fucking can just to make him feel even half as much fucking pain as you, but not before looking back at him and batting your lashes with a look that says: "Oh, me? It just hurts, that's all…" and not like you just want to draw blood out of spite.
"S-slow… slower…" He rubs your back, surprisingly gentle. "Relax, just take it." He coaxes, "Come on, you can take it, can't you? You can take your Alpha's cock— that's it, fuckkk. Open up for me, baby. Just like that…"
When he finally sheaths his entire ?inches into you, all you can do is moan and sag your entire body in relief of finally, finally being filled.
His hand snakes around your tummy, pulling you up with one unforgiving tug as he starts to move, and he's just fucking cruel with it. Slamming his cock into you so rough and deep, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. "Get the fuck— up." He grunts, his biceps working and bulging as he fights to keep your limp weight arched at his disposal, but you just… you can't hold yourself up. You can't move, really. Your entire body feels like jelly, it's just humming in pure ecstasy as you feel his thick cock plunging in and out of your soaking, swollen walls relentlessly, his veins dragging against you with every ministration… you're just a whining, moaning fucking mess.
"G—go…. God, yes… yess…. God, YES—"
"That's it." He smugly comments, his lip bitten and red, a flush evident and blotched on his cheeks down to his neck. He watches as your head bobs against the seat in an obviously uncomfortable way with every brutal thrust and he doesn't even give the slightest shit, all he cares about is watching and feeling your tight pussy take his cock as you cry out, his Alpha satisfied knowing it's finally taking care of your needs.
This is for you, afterall.
He thrusts once, twice more, then a third thrust that has you feeling him so deep you swear you can feel him in your tummy, and he just holds it there. He leans over your back, bracing one nail bruised forearm beside your head, applying all his weight against your hair that's a mess on the headrest and he doesn't care, he just breathes into your ear. "You feel that?" He shifts his hips ever so slightly just so you can feel his tip brush against your cervix. "That's how deep I'm gonna be when I fucking knot you."
Fuck. Just… just fuck. Are you in heaven?
"Are you all talk?" You must be crazy.
"Just fucking knot me already— hah— then! Or all you all fucking talk?" You crane your neck backwards to shoot him a challenging look that makes him snarl in response. Bingo!
"Oh, is that it?" He chuckles lowly, cold and mean. Then he fists your already knotted hair and shoves your head back down into the fucking seat harsh and unforgiving. His other arm has already given up on holding you up because at this point it's obvious your limbs won't be able to take it, and he just applies a sick pressure to your lower back with his hand and starts fucking you again, harsher this time(if that was even possible.)
You can't say much. You don't think you've ever heard yourself make such raw noises, they're truly coming from the depths of your soul as you feel him reach that very spot, dragging those sounds out with every thrust out and in.
"You've got a talent for running your fucking mouth." It's crazy how you can hear the smile on this man. He doesn't even sound mad, he sounds… pleased.
If you thought it was overwhelming before then you thought wrong because apparently there's always a more. "What's it gonna take to— shit… To shut you up, huh?" He accentuates each word with a jarring thrust, his nails biting into your skin on your lower back and you just arch into it, relishing in the pain. "I pin you down, I bend you over and fuck you on my fingers, then with my actual dick and somehow you've still got the energy? You can't even hold yourself upright and you're still talking shit."
"Are you that fucking desperate for it?" He tugs your hair back in a rough motion that has you staring dazedly at the roof of his sedan. "Huh? You're so desperate for my cock that you feel the need to rile me up? Hm?" Tug, thrust, scratch, another tug. "Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck you so hard you can't even speak?"
Bingo!
He seems so caught up in his anger that he just fucks you more, harder still, and you didn't even think it was possible. Is this all it took? Pissing him off?
You feel the heat coiling in your belly by the second, your legs trembling and back arching so hard and unwilling that you just have to squeeze your eyes shut and ride it out, focusing on the pleasure building in your gut.
"Is that— ngh! Is that all you can d-do? Harder..!" His control (you didn't think he had any left) finally snaps. He growls, fucking growls, and fucks you harder, so deep that it nearly knocks the air out of your fucking lungs, his fist tugging your hair back so rough and he doesn't even realize how far he's got your neck craned back (it's bad), he just sees red.
"This it? This hard enough for you? Fucking whore!" You nod frantically, your entire body in so much pleasure and pain it's hard to decipher between the two, and you don't think he realizes you're even close until you go tense, your legs trembling so badly you hear your thighs which are sticky with sweat stick and unstick to the leather skin of the seat rhythmically.
You shake, shake and fucking shake until your body goes completely rigid and the most intense pleasure you've ever felt in your entire life courses through what feels like your veins. It's so intense that it nearly whites out your vision. You don't think you've ever arched so hard, fucking moaned so loud and genuine. You clench around him so tight that his hips stutter and he has to put in more effort to thrust around your pulsing.
"Fuckkk, yes. Squeezing me so fucking tighttt, fuck… You feel good, baby? That what you needed? Did I give it to you?" He fucks you through every wave until your body goes slack again and you tremble from oversensitivity and he still goes, still fucks into you with that same relentless speed, and you can't even complain because you feel him finally start to swell at his base. Finally.
"Ah, yes… Gonna knot you, okay? Gonna knot you, baby. I'm gonna give it to you— shit… Gonna— Gonna—" And he finally, with a deep, ragged groan, finally stills deep inside you, pumping you full of his milky come and finally locks you together.
His body finally goes slack, slumping his entire weight against your back, squishing your poor bones and face into the seat for the last time. He's all lean muscle and you can hardly breathe but fuck, it might just be worth it. He shifts slightly with a contented hum, his scent thick and satisfied, and he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. "Good?"
You're gonna be here for a while.
PLS DO NOT COPY!








