shidou never shut up. never. stats, goals, fouls, formations. he could go on forever. even while fucking into you so hard your thoughts were just scrambled noise.
his hands held your hips firmly while he was talking casually as if he wasn’t fucking your brains out. you didn’t even try counting how many times you’d already cum. it didn’t matter because every thrust was dragging you higher anyway.
you were pressed into the bed, ass up, breath coming in sharp stutters. every drag of his hips made your brain melt more and your thighs tremble. your cunt was swallowing him, tightening and clenching around him. you couldn’t think about anything else.
“two assists. one goal. first half,” he bragged, his voice rough and broken. he slowed down mid thrust, dragging his cock against your soft walls to let one hand smack your ass. “mmh fuckkk…doll, you feel so…so good…i’m the best, aren’t i?” you just nodded, gasping, moaning, mind absolutely gone because yeah, he was the best, especially with the way he was fucking you. “shit…you take it so fucking well…you make it impossible to think straight…” he chuckled breathlessly
i’d lowk sip on his nut like it’s my morning coffee omg #needthatasap
tutor!nanami fucking you in the back of the library. Rows of shelves block your view, but you still hear the faint voices of others while he’s deep inside you. You’re sat atop the table, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, and your shirt unbuttoned, leaving him easy access to your tits. He’s slowly rocking his hips, trying to be as quiet as possible, but it’s hard to resist when you’re quite literally milking his cock.
“Fuck you’re so tight!” He whispers, letting out a shaky breath when he goes balls deep. He ruts his hips into you, the table knocking against the wall with each thrust.
“Mmmph! Oh my god!” You suck in a breath, whimpering when his tip nudges against your g-spot, his length dragging along your gummy walls, your entire body heating up.
“Shhhh, sweetheart,” he lowly chuckles. “You’re gonna get us caught.” He moves your shirt to the side, his hand gliding up to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your hard nipples. You bite down on your lip, hands gripping the edge of the table to steady yourself.
“I’m sorry!” You squeak. “It just feels so good. I…I can’t.” You gulp, hand flying up to your mouth to muffle your moans. It was impossible for you. The thrill of getting caught just makes your heart pound faster and your cunt wetter.
“Are you getting turned on by this? Look at how wet you are—holy shit. You’re so filthy.” He clenches his jaw, a groan escaping his throat. He pulls at you nipple, his other hand hooked under your knee, making sure to keep your legs spread. He tosses his head back, letting out another shaky breath to keep himself from moaning. “I’m so close already, you’re so goddamn wet.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, your entire body tingling, cunt throbbing as you draw nearer to your orgasm. Would now be a good time to tell him you’re a squirter? “K-Ken…slow down…I’m gonna—ah!” You quiver in his hold, trying to shut yourself up as your orgasm creeps up on you by the second. Your head is spinning, the pressure building up the more he pounds into your g-spot. “Stop, stop, stop, I’m gonna squirt—nnngh! It’s gonna—ah—get everywhereeeeee—mmmph!” His hand flys up to your mouth, your pussy gushing clear liquid, soaking his new khakis, and the carpet below.
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” he growls into your ear, fucking you through your orgasm. Your nails dig into his shoulders, nostrils flared as you breathe heavy, chest heaving. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Should cum inside you and have it leaking out all day.” He smirks against your skin, feeling your cunt physically respond to his words, clenching around him tightly. “Awe, is that what you want?” He coos. You frantically nod.
He slams inside of you a few more times, his leaking tip kissing your cervix, pinning you against the table while he fills you with his hot seed, spurts of sticky cum coating your walls. “Nice and deep,” he rasps, slowly pulling out of you. He puts your panties back in place, making sure his cum doesn’t leak out. “Perfect.”
toji is a scammer in sweatpants, and you're not leaving until you get what you paid for - toji x fem!reader. 18+
art creds -> @/thatsallitchief on x I divider creds -> @/bbyg4rlhelps
"Not my problem, ma." Oh, and you want to clobber the oaf right now. So what of his broad shoulders, and that infuriatingly attractive jawline? He's never met a pissed-off, broke college student.
"The fuck you mean?" It takes three quick steps — your flip-flops slap pathetically on asphalt — for you to catch up to his one, long-legged stride.
"You showed up. Got what was advertised." With an indifferent jerk of his chin, he gestures to the paper in your hand. Printed (in black and white, mind you), a picture of a sex toy. You could barely even make out the stupid tagline — 'Ribbed for her pleasure' — sprawled in a stupid, pixelated font along the sides.
He even had the audacity to pen 'Enjoy x', in his own brutish handwriting. Blocky like the brick you'd love to smash over his thick skull.
"Well I wasn't expect—"
"What'dya expect when you buy second hand dildos?" Said with thinly veiled sarcasm, basically calling you an idiot. Hands shoved in grey sweatpants, he continues striding away like you weren't flailing after him like a pesky fly.
"S-second hand? What the fu—you never mentioned—oh my god gross—it was…used?" You grab the neck of his shirt, and succeed in doing absolutely nothing but choking him as you yank. A strangled garble leaves his lips, satisfaction curling in your stomach. "I'm going to report your account. Give you 0 stars—"
Fushiguro's calloused grip peels your wrathful hands from his T-shirt, like you were nothing but a stray leaf dusting his collar. But his eyes—oh, his eyes, emerald rich — narrow into irritated slits when you rattle on and on about besmirching his reputation as a Facebook Marketplace Seller.
"—I…I will spam hate comments. Message all your friends, tell them that you're a disgusti—what the fuck—put me fucking down!"
Slung over his shoulder, legs kicking into his (ouch, hard) chest, like you could escape the riptide of Toji Fushiguro. "You're real talkative."
You batter his back with fists, pointedly ignoring the way his muscles shift with his languid amble. "Scammer. Bum. Asshole. Croo—"
You hear the slap before you feel the pain ripple from your ass, down your thighs.
"—Shut up, you sexually repressed twat. You wanna be fucked? Fucking fine."
The sharp sting has your mouth falling open, half in protest, half in shock — heat flooding places you never thought you'd let him touch.
☆
"Wh-who knew you were so—" Your lips part around a moan, something strangled, something that takes the air out of your lungs, as Toji licks another flat stripe up your quivering folds like a man starved.
Or maybe a man who really, really wants to keep selling junk on the internet.
"For a brat, you sure taste sweet." His tongue, in all its pierced glory, swirls around your clit, mixing spit and arousal in one dexterous maneuver. The stud nestles in the hood, prodding and slipping along sensitive flesh, as white static blooms within your glassy vision.
Your teary lids snap shut, like darkness could grant reprieve against the hulking man between your thighs. Desire-slick thighs trembling in his bruising, locking hold. Abdominal muscles tightening with every jolt of raw pleasure, each involuntary clench wracking your body.
"Tch—eyes on me, ma."
Dim light floods your senses, your body listening to his gruff words like that. Back arching into a perfect semicircle, as your feverish fingers find their hold within his dark tresses. You don't miss the groan that rumbles into your cunt, an echochamber of lust, when you grasp the ebony strands — a lifeline to sanity, and the anchor that drags you further away.
And clearly, neither does he. Whether it's embarrassment or something else, you don't know, because when his wet muscle sinks into your cunt and curls just right, a haze fogs your mind again. He swallows each obscene squelch of your saturated pussy with a grunt, and a sigh.
God, is he noisy.
For a second, you actually believe that he wants this. Wants you.
You buck your hips into his mouth, greedy ruts that he gladly accepts, lapping at your juices with fervour.
With a cry, the tight coil in your lower stomach snaps, but Toji doesn't stop, now slipping thick fingers past your ring of resistance as your walls spasm. Eyes lit with a smug fire — because he doesn't move, doesn't pump the digits as ectascy takes you.
His lust-blown pupils only observe how your cunt clenches, as if measuring the fucking extent of your orgasm. As if he's winning a bet on how hard he can make you come.
You're breathing like you've never known air, head thrown back — because you'd be damned if you let him see how fucked out you were because of him.
Without a warning, you're dragged by the hips — skin tacky against his sheets — slotted right against his pelvis, against a rock hard cock that twitches when your fluttering cunt meets damp fabric. "Fushiguro, don't even—oh, you can't be serious."
"Dead serious, princess." Bulging veins run down the weighty girth, swollen, and dribbling with precum. Saliva collects in your mouth, fresh slick dripping down your sloppy hole. Fuck, way bigger than the toy you 'bought', and even that one you were hesitant about handling.
Virescent eyes flicking to your incredulous ones, a smirk tugs at his lips, stretching the scar running down. "Too big for you, brat?"
Yes. "Nah, seen bigger." Bravado is a girl sticking it to a man. "No wonder your ex needed a toy."
"Oh, she never used it." His hands work to adjust your thighs, until there's no chance you could squirm away even if you wanted to. The metal embedded it in his tongue winks at you, as he licks his swollen lips — chasing the hint of sweetness, of you, clinging to the crevices.
With a snap of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt, relishing in the gasp that tears from your throat. Mouthy brat.
tags: satoru gojo x fem!reader, sukuna x fem!reader, fratboy!sukuna, fratboy nerd!gojo, cuck!gojo, college au, smut without plot, threeway, sukugo, gojos a sweet softie and sukunas rough af, sukuna has a jacobs ladder, unprotected p in v, mating press, overstim, dacryphilia, squirting, creampie, homoerotica, oral (f & m receiving), cum eating
w.c: 2.1k
a/n: idk wtf i was thinking when i wrote this, feel like u dont see this pair often in x reader fics, or maybe im wrong ANYWHO i looove me some sukugo so bark bark, also art creds to @/kcokaine_ on insta! mwah
ryomen sukuna is someone you never thought you’d ever speak to, let alone be fucking right now.
especially since you already have a man, local campus nerd and frat vice president, satoru gojo. he’s a sweetheart really, which is why he probably agreed to this. he was hesitant at first but you can tell he’s loving every second of this. which is also why he’s behind you, holding your quaking legs back, knees pinned up to your chest while his total opposite and bestfriend sukuna pounds his thick cock deep into your soppy pussy.
satoru leans down, his breath hot and shaky against your ear, voice soft like he’s trying not to lose it. “feels good, huh baby?”
you whine, nodding as you press even further back against his lean chest, fingers clawing into his forearms for some kind of grounding. sukuna is fucking rearranging your guts. he’s so deep you swear you feel him in your lungs. not something you’re unused to—your sweet boyfriend can hit those same depths, stretch you just as wide—but this man, this sex god of a man, is so much rougher. less gentle. and it feels so fucking good. each drag of his long, thick dick against your velvety walls sends electric jolts through your entire body, his jacob’s ladder piercing rubbing against every sensitive ridge so deliciously you’re seeing stars. the plan was for satoru to watch, to learn how to make you squirt, and you feel it now—building deep in your core, a tight, hot coil that’s got your thighs trembling and your breath hitching. sukuna’s already made you cum three times, each one harder than the last, leaving you a sweaty, moaning mess, your body slick with sweat and shaking from the intensity.
“s-sukuna,” you moan, voice breaking as tears prick the corners of your eyes, spilling over and streaking down your flushed cheeks. “fe-feels li-like i’m gonna pee, ‘m so sen-sensitivee.”
sukuna just chuckles, breathless and rough, his voice low and dripping with that cocky confidence that makes your stomach twist. “uh-uh, that’s the feeling we want, baby. just let go, yeah? let go for me, don't be shy.”
he snaps his hips harder, the obscene wet smack of skin on skin echoing in the cramped frat house bedroom, the air thick with the musky scent of sex, sweat, and the faint bitterness of cheap beer clinging to sukuna’s breath. his hands grip the back of your thighs so hard you know you’ll bruise, his calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh as he angles himself even deeper, hitting that spongy spot that makes your brain go fuzzy. you’re sobbing now, tears streaming freely as the overstimulation wracks your body, every thrust pushing you closer to that edge you’re both chasing. satoru’s hands shake where they hold your calves, his glasses slipping down his nose as he watches, wide-eyed, lips parted like he’s witnessing something divine.
“shit, baby,” he murmurs, voice barely audible, thick with awe and something else—something desperate. “you’re takin’ him so well—look at you, fuck.” there’s a hitch in his tone, like he’s torn between pride and being painfully turned on, his hard-on pressing insistently against your lower back through his sweats, hot and throbbing.
sukuna’s grin is sharp and feral as he glances up at satoru, his best friend since they were kids—though you still don’t get how that works. sukuna was a bully back then, satoru's bully specifically, always picking on the lanky, pale kid with the weird blue eyes and the too-bright smile. you’ve heard the stories from your boyfriend late at night, curled up in his dorm bed, his head on your chest as he laughed about it—how sukuna used to shove him into lockers, steal his lunch, call him names until one day, something shifted. maybe it was his relentless optimism, the way he never fought back but never broke either, always coming back with a grin and a dumb joke. or maybe it was the day satoru caught sukuna crying behind the school, about his twin brother dying, and instead of telling the entire school that sukuna's a pussy, satoru sat there, quiet, offering him half a candy bar.
whatever the hell it was, they’ve been inseparable since, a weird bond that makes no sense to anyone else but works for them.
now, sukuna’s the frat president, the campus’s resident bad boy with tattoos crawling up his arms and a reputation for fucking anything that moves, while satoru's the nerdy astrophysics major who still wears digimon tees and spends too much time on reddit. and yet, here they are, sharing you in this sweaty, dimly lit room like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“been holdin' out on me, man,” sukuna pants, voice rough as he smirks at satoru. “your girl’s a fuckin’ champ. takin' every inch— shiiiit. pussy’s grippin’ me like a vice—fuckin’ perfect.”
he slows his thrusts just enough to make you feel every rung of his piercing, the cold metal dragging agonizingly slow against your fluttering walls. you cry out, head lolling back against satoru's shoulder, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin.
“s’too much,” you whimper, voice slurred, body jerking with every brutal thrust. “suk—sukuna, sa—satoru, i—i can’t—”
but he cuts you off with a deep growl, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw, forcing your teary eyes to meet his crimson ones. he licks away fallen tears and keeps his his gaze locked on you. “none of that shit, baby. you can. you’re gonna fuckin’ squirt for me, aren't you? gonna make a mess all over me and your nerdy little boyfriend.”
his words are filthy, dripping with a dark hunger that makes your toes curl. you feel satoru's breath catch behind you, his grip tightening on your legs like he’s anchoring himself to the moment.
“she’s close, sukuna,” satoru says, voice hoarse, almost breaking as he watches your face contort with pleasure and pain. “i can feel her shaking—fuck, you're so beautiful like this, pretty girl.”
he’s not wrong. you’re a wreck, body glistening with sweat, tears staining your cheeks, lips swollen and red from biting them so hard. your hair’s a mess, sticking to your damp skin, your chest heaves with every ragged breath. sukuna’s eyes flicker between you and satoru, something dark and possessive in his gaze, like he’s getting off on both of you—on the way you’re falling apart and the way satoru’s watching, helpless and horny.
“yeah, she is,” sukuna grunts, slamming into you harder, faster, the bed creaking so loud you’re sure it’ll break. “c’mon, baby, give it to me. show your pretty boy how fuckin’ sloppy you can get.”
the pressure in your core builds impossibly tight, a hot, pulsing knot that makes your thighs quiver and your breath hitch. satoru’s whispering in your ear now, soft and desperate, his voice a stark contrast to sukuna’s roughness. “you can do it, baby, i know you can. just let go—wanna see you fall apart for him. please? for me?”
it’s too much—sukuna’s relentless pace, the way his piercing catches just right, satoru’s sweet voice in your ear, his hands holding you open like an offering. the coil in your core snaps, and you scream, body convulsing as you squirt, a gush of wet heat soaking sukuna’s cock, his abs, the sheets, everything. your vision goes hazy, tears streaming freely as your body spasms, completely overwhelmed, every nerve ending on fire. sukuna groans like he’s won a fucking war, his thrusts growing sloppy as he chases his own release.
“fuck yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—fuckin’ drench me,” he growls, burying himself deep, his cock pulsing as he spills inside you, hot and thick, filling you until you feel it leaking out around him. he grinds into you, riding out his orgasm with a string of curses, his grip on your hips bruising.
satoru’s practically whimpering behind you, his grip on your legs faltering as he watches sukuna empty himself inside you. “holy shit,” he breathes, voice cracking with reverence, his glasses fogging up from how hard he’s breathing. “holy shit, baby, you did so good.”
sukuna pulls out slowly, his cock still twitching, cum dripping from your overstuffed pussy and pooling on the sheets. he smirks at satoru, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “goddamn satoru. lucky guy, your girl's a fuckin' fountain. you learn somethin' yet?”
satoru nods, eyes glued to the creamy, glistening mess between your thighs. “y-yeah...think i got the gist.”
he snorts and leans down, kissing your tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that feels almost wrong coming from him, before looking back at satoru with a glint in his eye. “you wanna clean her up or should i?”
satoru doesn’t hesitate, sliding out from behind you to kneel between your trembling legs, his tongue darting out to taste the mess you and sukuna made. you moan softly, too fucked out to do anything but let him, your body twitching at the soft, wet drag of his tongue against your oversensitive folds. sukuna chuckles, leaning back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he watches satoru lap at your dripping pussy like a man starved.
“good boy,” he mutters and you’re not sure if you heard that right, but it doesn’t matter. you’re slipping into a hazy, blissful afterglow, caught between the two men who’ve just ruined you in the best way.
but it doesn’t stop there. sukuna’s not done, not by a long shot. he shifts, sitting up, his eyes locking onto satoru’s as he licks his lips, still glistening with your release.
“oi, dork,” he says, voice low and teasing, a dangerous edge to it. “you’re doin’ a real good job down there, but you’re missin’ somethin’.”
satoru pauses, looking up, his face flushed red, glasses askew, a string of your slick still connecting his lips to your skin.
“what?” he asks, voice rough like he’s barely holding it together.
sukuna grins, leaning forward, his hand reaching out to grip satoru’s chin, tilting his face up. “you’re not tastin’ me yet, idiot.”
your breath catches, a new wave of heat flooding through you as you realize what sukuna’s implying. satoru’s eyes widen, but there’s no protest, just a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe, or something deeper—as he lets sukuna guide him closer.
“c’mon, don't get all shy in front of your girl now,” sukuna murmurs, his thumb brushing over satoru’s bottom lip, smearing your slick and his own cum across it. “you wanted to learn some shit, right? gotta get the full experience.”
satoru swallows hard, his throat bobbing, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he leans in, tentative at first, his tongue flicking out to lick at the mess on sukuna’s cock, still half-hard and glistening with both of your releases. sukuna groans, low and guttural, his hand sliding into satoru’s white hair, tugging him closer.
“fuck, yeah. that’s it,” he mutters, hips twitching slightly as satoru’s tongue moves, cautious but eager, lapping at the mixture of you and sukuna like it’s a fucking delicacy. you can’t look away, your body still trembling from your own release, but the sight of satoru—your sweet, nerdy boyfriend—going down on sukuna’s cock has you clenching around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your core.
he glances up at you, his blue eyes hazy behind his foggy glasses, and there’s a spark of pride there, like he’s pleased with himself for pushing his limits.
sukuna chuckles, his grip tightening in satoru’s hair. “quick learner.” he teases, there’s a hint of fondness in his tone, buried under the roughness that makes you wonder again about their history—how two people so different could be so fucking close. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, because sukuna’s pulling satoru off his cock with a wet pop, dragging him up to kiss him, hard and messy. you watch, wide-eyed, as their tongues tangle, sukuna’s hand gripping the back of satoru’s neck like he owns him. satoru’s moaning into it, his hands clutching at sukuna’s shoulders.
when they break apart, sukuna’s grinning, his eyes flicking to you. “your boy’s got potential, sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping with amusement. “but don't think i'm done with you yet, baby.”
and before you can process it, he’s grabbing you, pulling you onto his lap, your oversensitive pussy brushing against his still-hard cock. you gasp, hands flying to his broad shoulders, but he just laughs, low and rough, as he positions you over him.
“gonna fuck you over and over,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “fill you up some more. make that pretty cunt squirt all over me again. and satoru's gonna show you what he's learned, isn't that right?”
to everyone else, nanami is the perfect husband. which is 100% true. he’s always respectful, always attentive. his hand at the small of your back, pulling out chairs for you to sit, carrying your bags for you. the kind of man who makes people sigh and say ‘no wonder she married him.’
but when the two of you are alone, that facade completely cracks. it’s like he’s been holding back all day, only to unleash it on you the second the apartment door closes.
the first round is slow and reverent while his hands steady as he undresses you, his mouth hot and eager between your thighs, his cock filling you so deep it makes your legs shake.
the second is rougher, sweat slicking your skin as he pins you down, lips at your ear whispering how pretty you look from behind.
by the third, your voice is breaking, moans turning to whimpers as he fucks you into the mattress, still maddeningly controlled even as his thrusts are harder, faster, more desperate.
and when you think he’s finally had enough, he’s already hard again, pressing the head of his cock against your swollen entrance, eyes heavy lidded but hungry. “one more” he murmurs, voice hoarse but steady, “you can give me one more can’t you, love?”
he’s insatiable. the man who everyone thinks is a complete saint, fucks you like he can’t get enough. until he’s left his marks all over you, until you forget your own name.
satoru is the first to lean in, lips hot and wet on your thigh, tongue sliding slow, teasing, tasting. his hands grip your hips tight like he’s holding you in place, humming low just to make you twitch.
suguru’s right beside him, breath warm against your other thigh, tongue dragging lazily over sensitive skin before flicking up toward your slit. he smirks when you gasp, eyes flicking to satoru like he’s daring him to go higher first.
their mouths meet briefly in the middle, a quick messy kiss, tongues tangling like they’re sharing you between them. satoru laughs against suguru’s lips then they both dive back in, one on each side and you’re shaking already.
“fuck—” you gasp, nails curling into the sheets.
satoru drags his tongue higher, right over your clit, slow and smug, while suguru slides two fingers inside you without warning, curling them until your hips jump.
“mm hear that?” satoru grins against you, tongue flicking fast now, “she’s sooo soaked, sugu.” “so tight too” suguru groans, fucking his fingers in deeper, “gripping me like she doesn’t wanna let go.”
they work you together, but not neatly. messy. almost competitive. satoru’s tongue circling while suguru’s fingers pump harder and every second only gets filthier.
satoru shifts up your body, slowly kissing up your hip, licking across your stomach, catching a nipple in his mouth with a satisfied hum. suguru doesn’t slow down, fingers pressing deeper while his tongue takes over your clit instead of satoru’s.
“look at you, baby” satoru murmurs against your chest, his other hand squeezing your other tit. “so pretty like this”
you can’t even tell who you’re moaning for anymore. every flick, every press, every occasional kiss between them pushes you closer to the edge.
and when you finally cum, it’s sooo dizzying. they make you feel so good you couldn’t even explain it. your legs shaking, walls squeezing suguru’s fingers tight, back arching off the bed.
“don’t worry, we’re not done yet” satoru smirks before stealing another kiss from suguru, “mmhm” suguru smirks, still working his fingers slow to drag out every last shudder “it’s gonna be a long night, baby”
satoru’s fingers are already working you open, slow and steady. two of them curled deep inside, fucking you with a lazy rhythm like he’s got all the time in the world. the drag of his knuckles, the slick stretch of his fingers. it’s all intentional. all measured. he’s watching the way you melt, studying every twitch of your thighs, every soft little sound that slips from your lips.
“relax, baby” he murmurs, voice all low and teasing, his free hand smoothing over your stomach. “feels good, yeah?”
you nod, breath stuttering as your hips roll up to meet his touch. your walls are clenching around his fingers, your body already adjusting to the steady rhythm, chasing every deep curl. it feels so fucking good, and he can tell. he was being good. suspiciously good.
you could see that smug little smirk already curling on his lips.
you barely have time to register the shift before— fuck.
his fingers angle just slightly different. just a little deeper and upward. and suddenly he’s hitting something inside you that makes your whole body jolt, a ragged gasp punching out of your lungs as he dragged his fingers right over your gspot perfectly like he’d found a fucking switch in you and flipped it.
“oh?” satoru cooed, tilting his head, those stupid pretty blue eyes glowing just faintly under his lashes. “there it is.”
you were shaking. clenching around his fingers, legs trembling, mouth open but useless, trying to say something but all you could manage was a breathless, “what the fuck—”
his grin widened, lazy and smug as ever.
“six eyes, baby.”
his fingers keep stroking that spot with infuriating accuracy, fucking into you like he mapped your entire body down to the very atom. you’re a mess, moaning through every curl of his fingers, grabbing at the sheets like it might help ground you—it doesn’t.
“th-that’s cheating” you managed to choke out, even as your hips rolled down against his hand.
“mhm” he agreed easily, kissing the corner of your mouth, still fingering you with obscene precision. “but when have I ever played fair?”
do you write for black reader? or just a reader with no features mentioned/hinted at cuz there r TOOOOO much white ppl writing for a white reader in the sinners tag rn when its not even all abt white ppl at all 🌚💀
lmao i’m black myself but i write mostly with the intent of just no features mentioned 🙏
“i ain’t lettin you in no more, remmick.”your voice barely holds. arms crossed. jaw set. like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “can’t keep doin whatever this is with you.”
remmick leans on the doorframe, arms loose at his sides, head tilted just enough to look sweet. innocent. “you say that every time.”
“cause i mean it.” you said as simply as ever but you knew he could read you like a damn children’s book.
he hums low. slow smile curling at his lips.
“what if i fuck you real nice this time?” he says, voice like honey poured slow. “sweet n’ slow. how you like it. kiss every inch of you. let you sit on my face? hm?”
you blink. heart kicks. throat tight. “you think that’s gonna work on me?”
he shrugs. doesn’t even bother looking guilty. “i hope so?” he licks his bottom lip, eyes dragging over you like he already knows how this ends.
“c’mon, sugar. let me in.”
your hand’s still on the door. you should close it. really you should. don’t give in.
you said you wouldn’t let evil into your home no more. swore on it. on the bible. even on momma. but every time remmick showed up on your porch, leaning against the railing, asking real polite for permission to step inside…
you let him in. you knew exactly what he was. yet you always let him in. you could’ve said no. you were playing a dangerous game. one that could eventually get to you.
“you’re scared.” remmick says against your neck. tongue trailing slow along your pulse, like he’s testing how fast it’s running. he’s got you spread open under him, thighs wrapped around his waist, sweat slick and trembling, his cock dragging deep, slow, mean. he ain’t in no rush. never is when you’re like this. all wide eyed and shaky, trying not to look too hard at his mouth hovering right over your throat. he’s got you folded beneath him like it’s nothing.
you freeze when he mouths at your throat again, just a brush of his lips. soft, open, grazing that one spot you know he likes. that major artery. the one that always makes your heart stutter.
“’m not gonna bite ya.” his voice is gentle yet teasing, his hips rolling harder. deeper. “told ya that already, didn’t i?”
you nod. barely. breath caught halfway down your throat.
he grins. remmick can feel it. the way your body tenses. the way your fingers claw at his back.
that edge of panic tangled up in the pleasure.
“you always get like this” he murmurs, lips brushing slow across your jaw. “all jumpy right when i get real deep. like you know i could just…”his teeth skim your throat, just light as a feather, making your back arch.
you shiver so hard he groans from the way you squeeze around him. he doesn’t need your blood. he needs this. your fear. your helplessness. your trust.
you try to move your head, pull away from his mouth, but his hand holds you there—gently. not to trap you. just enough to remind you: he could.
your eyes widen, throat tight. he groans at the scent of just your fear alone. it rolls off you like perfume, and he drinks it in like he’s starving. he pulls back just enough to look at you. eyes all glowing, grin so sinister and mocking. “you trust me?”his thumb brushes your cheekbone. “reckon you must…lettin’ me fuck you like this.”
his fingers slide between your thighs, rubbing you right where you needed, slow and lazy while his hips roll harder this time, punching a gasp outta your lungs.
“don’t worry, sugar. fear tastes just as sweet as blood.”