#j writes

The sheets are wet with your saliva and tears. The cool patches feel nice against your flushed, hot cheeks and quivering lips. Ever the demon (must've sensed your mind wandering), she wraps a fist into your hair, pulling your face up from the covers.

"Nuh-uh." She coos, slowing her thrusts down. "Pay attention."

The pain through your scalp is electrifying. Your breath catches, a whine of pain escapes your taunt throat. Despite the verbal protest, you stay plyable in her arms, letting her rough handling of your head be the only thing holding you up.

Anticipation grips you, bringing you back into the moment with her.

You feel her chest rumble behind you, her thrusts stopping all together. Unceremoniously, she drops you by the hair, sending you back into the bed.

Unable to move, your hips locked with hers, you just have to sit there and whine as you feel her rummaging through your shared bedside table. The heat of her torso rolls off in waves on your back, soothing the irritated skin.

Finally, she stiffens and straightens up- you can make out a muffled "ah" as she hovers over you again. With her flesh hand on your thigh, she leans forward, pushing her dick deeper. She doesn't miss the way you moan into the sheets and snickers.

You don't have much time to think before you're hoisted up again by the hair, face presented with the dildo she suctioned to the headboard.

"Thought you could use something to work on." She hums, dragging your face closer to the dry silicone. Whining, your face scrunches up.

"Don't give me that. Fucking suck on it." She commands, jostling your head slightly. A hiss rips from your clenched teeth, the pain from your crown only reignighting slightly.

She readjusts behind you, her dildo rolling deeper into your hole making you squirm harder. Licking your lips, you let your tongue poke out to begin wetting the head. Shame and humiliation wrack through you while you take it into your mouth.

Being held up by your hair, tied up and completely at her mercy- being forced to suck a stupid dildo on the headboard. It's embarassing as hell, and you love it. Testing your limits is half the fun when having sex with Sevika. She's always got something up her sleeve to make you weak.

Gathering up spit, you let your tongue dance across the silicone. Now wet enough, you open wide to suck it into your mouth.

Sevika let's out a pleased groan, snapping her hips forward as a reward. Pushing you further onto it, she revels in the way you gag slightly.

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as she starts a lazy rhythm. Every hit rocking your mouth up and down the dildo, effectively fucking your mouth while she fucks your twitching hole. It's intoxicating, the way she's so effortlessly dominating all of you. Little time passes before you're eagerly sucking her second cock as she knocks you up with her first.

“What would your little friends think, huh?” His tone of voice is mocking, demeaning. “If they saw you like this,” his eyes gaze up and down your body, which is pressed against the wall of your apartment. He has a hand wrapped around your throat as his eyes sweep over you. You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, not exactly expecting a visitor at 2 a.m.

No, not a visitor.

An intruder.

Sleep keeps your brain foggy, eyelids heavy as you look up at him. You don’t respond, continuing to just look at him.

He presses his body into you, hand moving up to your jaw so he can tilt it. His lips brush the shell of your ear, “You’re dripping for me.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his words, hating yourself as you think about how sweet his voice sounds. He was a casual addiction, like caffeine or sugar. You didn’t notice yourself falling for him until it was too late- until the crash came. When you found yourself stuck between your good friend, Hughie, and the man who wanted to kill him: John. When you realized that, inevitably, you would have to choose. You couldn’t have both- John wouldn’t allow it. Hell, you’re surprised he hasn’t found the old Nintendo DS that you use to communicate with Hughie (he gave it to you as a gift a while ago, thanks to his employee discount at the shop).

“What would they think,” Homelander continues, pausing to bite the shell of your ear in between his teeth and tugging gently, “if they saw me splitting you open on my cock? If they saw the way you push back against me when I bend you over? You practically fuck yourself on it.”

You moan softly at his words, “Please,” you whisper. You’re not sure why you’re saying it. Is it a plea, a prayer? To some higher power, to John, to yourself for being so fucking stupid?

“I want to break you and put you back together again, and I want to be inside of you the whole time that I do so.” John says lowly, breath against your neck. His hands begin to rub up and down your body, groping and and kneading as he goes.

“John, please,” your hands wrap around his biceps, holding on to him as if he’s an anchor. “I need you.”

“Need me to what?” he kisses your neck as he waits for your response.

“Whatever you want,” you pant, fingernails digging into him, “anything.”

His arms hook around your thighs and he lifts you up, “I wanna watch you fall apart on my cock, honey,” his voice is low and raspy, a few notches above a whisper.

Your mouth opens before you can stop it, “Yes, John, as many times as you want, please,” your arms wind around his shoulders.

His voice is a whisper this time, “I wanna hear you say it.”

There's a small part of you that is embarrassed at how fast you follow his instruction, "Ruin me," it comes out clearly, accompanied by the daring look in your eyes.

His eyes are locked with yours as he sees the many more words you're saying with just a look. He smiles, thumbs tenderly caressing your thighs as he continues to hold you, your legs wrapped around his waist.