Work Text:
Your name is Eridan Ampora and you’re about to make a horrible decision.
All things considered, this was a terrible idea. And you weren’t exactly known for your string of good ideas and luck. Yet, despite the voices in your head screaming at you to not do it, to turn the fucking computer off and do something useful with your stupid life— you hit post instead.
God, how the fuck did you get this desperate?
You watch as the page refreshes, then your profile flashes back in your face, all sparkly and glittery and way too over the top— a perfectly jarring reflection of your flamboyant self, like its mocking you. There’s long tangents that are honestly, not exactly needed for this sort of website, yet you couldn’t help it. You might’ve hit the word limit more than a few times and had to rewrite some things.
You’re about to shut your husktop closed when a notification catches your eye, almost immediately. What the fuck? How did someone *already* message you? You hadn’t even been published for less than thirty seconds.
You grumble under your breath yet can’t hide the thrill that ignites underneath your skin. Was it your knight in shining armor, ready to rescue you from being a virgin and shape you into place?
Your excitement is quickly extinguished as you click to see a ‘Welcome to the website!’ notification.
God. Of course, no one would answer that quickly, what were you thinking? Seriously, unbelievable.
Instead of indulging in your fantasy of some handsome suitor with lots of cash to spend messaging you playful banter, you decide to take one last look at your profile.
Submissive looking for dominant, seeking master/pet long term relationship. Accompanied with more information about you, and most importantly— what you’re into.
God. You can't even look for long before a wave of embarrassment shrouds over your entire being, practically grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you as you click out of your long lists of kinks.
You shut off your computer and start getting ready for bed. Surely, when you woke up the next day there will be a plethora of choices, all practically fighting to get a taste.
Yeah right. Deep down you knew that this wasn’t going to lead to anything good, picturing KK’s dismayed reactions to your profile.
You really needed some sleep.
---------
You wake up, and after an overly complicated morning routine, you find yourself back at the corner of your room where your husktop lies on your makeup vanity, awkwardly propped up ‘cause you didn’t exactly have a designated ‘pc space’. After all, you were barely on social media unless it was to upload one of your infamous ‘model off duty mysterious ny girl vibes’ posts. Which were sparse and few in-between, because you knew if you let yourself post whenever you wanted, you’d have dozen after dozen of selfies littered on the internet. Which is like, totally fucking uncool, even for you.
Pushing aside various makeup products that were scattered from your daily routine, you turn on your pc and log into the website that’s been plaguing your mind. You have a nice, natural ‘I woke up like this and totally didn’t spend two hours on my makeup’ spread across your features.
You have a few messages in your inbox, which is very exciting. You click on the first one you see.
CT: D --> Hey
CT: D --> This is a very serious inquiry
CT: D --> Would you
CT: D --> Care to partake
CT: D --> Uhh
CT: D --> In bucketing
CT: D --> This is against my moral code but I will make… an e%ception
CT: D --> For my prince
CT: D --> Heh
CA: eww.
CA: hey howw about you do your highness a favvour and cull yourself
CT: D --> Urgggg
CT: D --> Let me go fetch my towel
Ew. You shudder, face scrunching up in disgust. You were here to be dominated, did this lowlife not know how to read? You roll your eyes before blocking the sorry sap of a troll from ever messaging you again.
Hopefully the next dm you got is better than the last. You click on the next one,
TC: hEyYyYy BrOsKi, didn’t tHiNk YoU’d Be DoWn To ClOwN wItH a MiRtHfUl MoThErFuCkeR lIkE mE. yOu ReAdY tO sEe StArS? iLl TaKe Ya DoWn To ThE dArK cArNiVaL… iN mY pAnTs, HaHa! HiT mE uP, eRi.
You might be desperate, but even you had standards. You hit block.
At this point, you can feel the irritation threatening to take over. With a heavy sigh, you decide to give the website one last chance before you get on with your day.
The next message you click on seems to be from an account with no profile picture. This intrigues you, and before you fully read the text you’re clicking onto their page. Which, ends up having absolutely nothing on it. No bio or description, yet it seems like they’ve had the account for a while.
You find this weird and mostly chalk it up to some kind of scambot, but you cant help but go back into the message anyways.
AN: What's a petty little whore like yourself doing on this website? Learn your goddamn place, you should be sitting on my lap instead. If I don't see you at the blue moon motel tomorrow you'll fucking regret it. Don't make me wait.
CA: listen if this is a scam im not fuckin interested
CA: i havve more important things to do than sit around and talk to some creep who cant evven upload a proper profile
AN: You wanted someone to dominate you, here I am, asshole. Take it or leave it. I’m not here to play games with someone so below me.
This makes you pause, feeling your cheeks get hot. God, why was this already turning him on? This is the internet. You really needed to get a grip. Frustration dwells in your mind as you angrily type back.
CA: wwoah wwoah hey
CA: i knoww my profile is real enticin and all but you aint got any claim over me
You stop yourself from typing ‘yet’, deleting and rewriting it before finally removing it complety. You hesitate for a moment before starting up again.
CA: besides howw am i suppose ta knoww youre reel. for all I knoww this could be a scam
AN: First of all, pretty sure it’ll be easy to claim a brat like you. Your profile reeks with desperation, you’re practically begging for someone to fuck you. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were a virgin.
AN: Second, I know exactly who you are, Eridan Ampora. I know your address and your ip. You’ll be counting yourself lucky to be a good boy and listen to me.
AN: I’ll see you at the Motel, 7pm sharp. Don’t bother texting me anything else.
You stare in disbelief at the screen, barely knowing what to think as you process this information. Of course, you covered up all identifiable traces on your profile, you weren't stupid. The most people got were pictures of your ass or body, never anything from the shoulders up. You even had a pseudo name, which, almost might have the same intials as your trolltag and typing quirk. but hey, you were horny and not thinking straight. Somehow it felt like everyone who's texted you thus far already knows exactly who you are. Did you really make it that obvious?
Suddenly, you see the textbox start to read ‘AN is typing’ again.
AN: The safeword is Honey. If it’s ever too much for you just say the word. But I know you’ll end up choking in the end. Have a good afternoon.
The next day drags on like most of the others, yet you can’t focus on anything but the meetup happening tonight. You keep finding yourself going back and forth on whether or not you should even show up, knowing the stakes were more than high. The irritational, impulsive part of you is itching at your thinkpan, causing you to lean more and more into showing up for your ‘scheduled meetup’ until you find yourself parked right at the motel room’s door. Nothing like yet another bad decision to end the day.
You knock on the door, waiting for a response. You have your arms crossed over your chest, already somehow irritated as adrenaline mixes with anxiety, making your skin crawl. Of course, you decided to dress up, adorning your favourite and sluttiest black skirt with matching thigh-high socks. You don’t forget to accessorize either, gold jewelry complimenting your look. You made sure to perfect your makeup, which makes you look pretty good.
Anyone would be lucky to have you, and whoever opens this door better be worshipping at your fucking feet the moment they set their sorry eyes on you. The very thought makes you shiver in anticipation.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the door opens and what you see makes all the blood rush out of your face. Sollux Captor, the troll you hated so much, who constantly messed with you and fought with regularly was staring down at you.
There’s a long moment between you and Sollux as your stare at each other in utter disbelief. This can’t be the guy you’ve been texting- it can’t be. It can’t be. Your eyes widen in horror and disgust as you watch a fuck-ugly smirk pull on his lips, slightly showing off one of his sharp fangs. He’s laughing at you, looking down at you— you couldn’t even believe he had the audacity to be laughing at you.
“What the fuck are you laughin at?!”
“No fuckin way. Of course you showed up. I’m not dumb, obviously I knew it was you. it was too easy to make a fake account and lure you here. Should’ve known you’d be desperate enough to make an ad looking for someone to put you in your place.” He’s obviously prideful of this feat, puffing out his chest as he looks down at you like you’re an idiot.
You shift in place at the doorstep, feeling stupid and ashamed, your face burning in embarrassment.
“I-I clearly.. I’m mistaken.. I don’t- know what you’re talkin about.. I just came over ta... Uh.. Look around.” You’re stumbling over your words as you try to grasp at straws to save face. You don’t think you’re making any sense. You walk into the motel, avoiding eye contact.
Of course, Sollux wasn’t buying it, snickering at your attempts at covering up,“Yeah, sure, and you just showed up at the exact same time and location as our scheduled ‘meet up’.”
“You tricked me! If I knew it was your disgustin, creepy fuckin’ incel ass I would’ve never showed up!” Your voice strains as you start to yell, yet his composure stays the same, still as calm and smug as ever. You resist the urge to lunge forward and wipe that stupid expression off his face for good. Make him really pay for making you look like such an idiot.
Instead, you make the first rational decision in a very long time and choose the road of non-violence. For now. “I’m leaving.” You spit out, as you cast him the most hateful, repulsed glare you can
Instead, before you can as so much as turn yourself around, a loud sound makes you jolt in surprise. He must’ve slammed the door shut with his psionics. The absolute asshole.
He grabs you with a rough motion, before slamming you against the wall, drawing closer “Nah, think I’m going to enjoy making you my bitch.”
Before you can move, Sollux is descending on you, locking his lips with yours, as he forcibly shoves his tongue down your throat. All you can do is whimper in complete shock, your body going still for a moment as he takes complete control. When he pulls away, you don’t even realize you’re panting, gasping for air as a self-satisfied grin plasters itself on Sollux’s face.
“That’s really all it takes to make you all hot and bothered? Oh man, this is gonna be fun.” Sollux is looking down at you like he wants to consume you alive, all predator and fangs.
That’s when you start to really freak out, raising your voice, in an attempt to sound intimidating. You end up sounding panicked and hopelessly bewildered.
“Get the fuck off of me you creep!” You snap, yet it’s no good, Sollux is holding you down not only with his raw physical strength- but his psiionics. That fucking cheater. Speaking of which, it looks like he’s getting off to this by the way he comes closer, eyes narrowed in pure sadistic delight.
“Go ahead and say the safeword.” Sollux purrs, clearly mocking you. “I’ll stop right now if you really want.”
You consider it for a moment, and thank God because he’s relenting, giving you the space to think. After a long moment of back and forth in your mind, you reluctantly swallow down the bitter sense of shame that bubbles up before looking away, a snarl under your breath the best you can manage in a response.
“Typical.” He scoffs. “You sick fuck, of course you’re into this.” He draws in closer, face nearly brushing up against one of your fins, making you bite back a whine from the sensitivity.
“You’re always fucking bothering me with your stupid melodramatic bullshit. Don’t think I don’t notice how you follow me around like a stray dog. You crave my attention. You need this. You’re just too stupid to admit to it.”
Your breath hitches in your throat and the other troll notices this immediately, wrapping a clawed hand around the delicate skin. He tightens his grip, seeming satisfied as he watches you struggle to breathe. You’re trying to get him off of you, but he’s utilizing his powers that you’re all but helpless to.
“Don’t act like you don’t want this.” Sollux’s tone dips lower, sweet honey laced with deceit, a purr rising from his chest, coercing and pulling you in, all good sense thrown out the window as he bares his fangs into you. He has you in his grasp, obedient and willing, and it was clear he wasn’t going to waste such an opportunity.
Hate boils deep within your blood pusher; hate that blossoms not only from such degrading treatment- but from the fact that it's working. You hate how wet you are already. Your eyes must’ve had spades replacing your pupils at this point.
Before you can speak again, he pushes your head back with too much force that it hurts, exposing your neck like you’re some kind of specimen, a pretty thing to dissect and pin against the wall for his own enjoyment, forcing you to look up at him as you gasp for air, gaze petrifying. It doesn’t help that Sollux is so much taller than you, you barely measure up to his chest.
“Admit it, admit that you need this, ‘prince’.” He’s like a dark cloud looming over you, his words like piercing venom.
But you don’t want to give in- this is Sollux Captor, the guy you’ve been fighting with since you were practically grubs. You know exactly what your submission would entail— that after all of the fights, the mind games, the push and pull, he would win.
You’d rather die than have that happen. He’s thrown a fucking mall at you, this was nothing. Yet you can’t ignore how your legs start to feel weak, and your head a little dizzy— and you’re trying to tell yourself it's because of the hand around your neck— not the fact this is probably the hottest thing that's ever happened to you.
“Go to hell…” You try to force all of your humiliation, rage and confusion into your words. You want this to hurt him, to pierce through his thick skin— to make him see what a disgusting creep he was being. This was low, even for fights you’ve had.
Sollux is good at hiding his emotions, but when it came to anger, it slipped through the cracks until it flooded through and threatened to drown whatever was in its path. You would know, you often found yourself at the receiving end of his rage. The feeling of his hand around your neck isn't unfamiliar— but the intent behind it is different, it's sickening and laced with desire, he doesn’t want to just hurt you. He wants to own you. You can tell what you said is pissing him off further, and you claim a small victory in knowing that you’re getting to him. Even if it hurt like hell.
“Dumb fucking brat.” He hisses in annoyance, before dragging you down the dimly lit hallway and into the motel room, that mind you— is horribly furnished, before having the audacity to shove you into the disgusting bed. You can barely register a full deep breath in— much less a snarky comeback before you he’s climbing on top of you, leaning over your smaller frame, pinning your wrists down so hard you feel like they might break under the pressure.
He’s close enough that you nearly gag as you breathe in his scent, sweat and musk and a tinge of sweet honey- eyes trained on you like he’s trying to look through you, and you notice that his breathing is getting heavier, and he’s giving you this desperate, almost hungry look. Like he's fighting a small part of himself that's telling him this is sick and fucked up. That he should stop before things get worse.
For a moment you think maybe he’ll let you go— forget this ever happened. Then the pressure on your wrists tightens, and you can tell he’s already made his mind up.
“Don’t pretend this isn’t what you wanted. I’ve read all about your sick fantasies, wanting to be held down and used until you’re crying, fucked until you’re unconscious. You're so desperate you resorted to whoring yourself out on a sleezy bdsm site. It’s honestly kind of sad, how much you want to be loved. Pathetic fucking slut.”
As he speaks, he switches to using his powers to lock you into place— hungry hands now traveling underneath your sweater, making you let out a small whine as he pinches and rubs at your grub scars. He takes this as a good thing, massaging them further to coerce more needy little whines and gasps, and you’re so focused on the pleasure you barely notice that he’s pulling up your sweater with his other hand until it's coming up over your head. You can’t ignore the burning sense of humiliation as his words sink in, paired with the way he takes claim over your body like it’s his birthright. You can’t seem to understand how this is happening so fast, so naturally.
You don't mean to be so pliant under him, but everything is happening in a hazy daze, it almost feels like you’re underwater as he starts to nip and lick at your exposed skin, soft growls leaving his lips. That shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should— but it does. There’s something so animalistic in how he’s taking you, as if he was a man turned beast, driven on pure desire and lust, just for you. You've been dreaming of the day you’d push someone this far. He kisses along your collarbone, and you think you could get addicted to this feeling.
Sollux pushes himself up, straddling your body, his eyes never once leaving you as he sits up, gaze raking down and up, drinking in the sight, like he’s trying to remember every little detail.
“God, you’re so fucking hot” He finally says, almost in a whisper. “I’m going to ruin you.”
The praise makes your breath catch in your throat and reality to snap back, your mind suddenly clear, and you have to look away, half in shame, half because his gaze feels like its burning through you. He’s like the sun, burning hot, all-consuming in its destruction, and you feel like if you get too close, you’ll go up in flames.
“I hate you.” You know it's a cheap shot, and your voice is trembling as he stares down at you like you’re the last troll left in the world, yet you can’t help but try to put up a fight— even if it's a losing game.
“Hate me?” Sollux snickers, before the psionics holding you down dissipates. “If you hate me that much, go ahead and push me off. Leave right now.” He’s talking like he already knows exactly what you’ll do, a smug, toothy grin pulling on the corners of his lips.
It makes you want to hit his head against the wall until he bleeds.
You meet his gaze once more, opening your mouth to speak but you stop yourself. You can practically smell the desire radiating off of him, feel the strain against his jeans as he straddles you— and you can tell he’s not small either. Guess the double bulges weren’t just a rumor. He’s obviously restraining himself from continuing, waiting for your response, your willing compliance in your devastation, intending to humiliate you further. You really can’t stand him.
“Fuck you.” You spit, and you can barely think before you’re grabbing a fist full of his shirt, pulling him closer to you until your faces are nearly touching, and there’s a delicious split moment where you finally have the upper hand, watching his expression twist into surprise. You don’t give him a chance to speak before you’re locking his lips to yours in a desperate, power-hungry kiss. It’s not out of love— it’s all clashing teeth and sharp nips, a fight for dominance as anger and desire sets your body aflame.
Sollux is taken aback for a moment before he kisses back, and you take this as yet another small victory, and before you know it, he’s pushing you onto your back once more, practically devouring you whole as he takes control. You don't know how much time has passed until he reluctantly pulls his lips off yours, faces inches away as you both catch your breath, locked in a daze. He’s the first to speak.
“Good boy.”
You can’t get used to the praise, a warm layer of pleasure settling over your senses. You only have a few moments to process this until you’re suddenly flipped over onto your stomach, forced into an embarrassing arch, the bed shifting in weight until you feel Sollux behind you, grinding his crotch into your ass.
“You haven’t learned your lesson, though, have you, slut?” His voice is in a deep growl, before he shoves down your skirt- earning him a surprised yelp. “All these years, pissing me off, bothering me, following me around and teasing me...” He continued, pausing to snicker at your lacey panties, rough hands groping at your ass freely, kneading the soft, plump flesh as he spoke. “Ruining my fucking life...” The pitch of his voice gets rougher, and he spanks you hard, a sharp whine leaving your lips. There’s no moment of relief until he’s spanking you again, and again, each time harder than the last- until violet bruises start to show and his touch feels like molten lava.
You’re gasping for air at this point, tears prickling at your eyes as you shove your face into a pillow, trying to endure the rough treatment, yet every time you think he’s had enough in hurting you, he starts up again. You think you’ll go delirious in pain. You think he’s saying something, but your ears are starting to ring, only registering more when he relents, and you hear the buckle of his belt and his own jeans sliding down.
It isn't over, though, and he grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you into a better arch, shoving his fingers in your mouth with his other hand. “Lick it up, whore.” He growls, and you can’t help but to submit despite the pain that radiates throughout your body. You lick and suck at his fingers as best as you can, and if you had half the mind, you’d think you’re acting pretty fucking pathetic, but the need to please him overrides everything else, it’s all you can focus on.
“Pathetic, already submitting to me after all that fight. Who knew a ‘superior high blood’ like you would act like such a bitch in heat.” His words are like venom, mocking you in that awful, sarcastic and crude tone, and suddenly you don’t want to be so obedient anymore.
Typical fucking Sollux, always has to rub salt in the wound.
So, in your unpredictable and violent nature you’re oh so well known for, you bite down on his fingers hard enough until you taste his disgusting blood.
Sollux hisses in pain, quickly retracting his hand away, and you watch the bloodied mess with a satisfied grin.
“You. Fucking. Brat.” He speaks slowly, and you can tell he really wasn’t expecting this. Another win. That’s short lived as he claws off your panties in one harsh move, not wasting a moment before he shoves his dual bulges deep into your nook.
You go limp underneath him, only held up by the arm underneath your stomach that you hadn't noticed until now, whimpering in pain and the feeling of being so absolutely full. It feels like he's tearing you apart, and the difference in temperature only makes it even more uncomfortable. You want to tell him to get off you, to pull out and show some goddamn mercy— yet you can barely let out anything but choked sobs and pained moans, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You can't think of anything but how big he is and how stuffed you are, and as more tears spill down, he leans over your frame, pinning you further into the bed.
“Do you really think anything you do would pry you free from my grasp? Too fucking late. You aren’t going anywhere. You know what the safeword is. But you want this, don’t you? You want it to fucking hurt.”
“p-please god, oh f-fuck, have mercy sol” You cry out in shame, trying to struggle away, yet he only starts to move, stretching you out fuller, violet blood mixing with slick as he fucks deep into you. It hurts so much, it feels like he’s trying to kill you. “Please, please I’m sorry!” You gasp, clawing at the blankets hard enough to rip the fabric, your body shaking and shivering as he doesn’t relent, slamming harder into your trembling frame.
“Begging only makes me want to screw you over more, dumb whore. Cry for me even. I’ll still fuck you until the only thing you can think of is me.”
Whimpers and cries rang through the motel room, accompanied by lewd, vulgar sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, and Sollux’s depraved, sadistic taunts. You can feel the early roots of panic start to plant seeds in your mind, horrified and turned on all at the same time. You keep begging for mercy, yet your pleading only seems to encourage him to defile you further, as a particularly hard thrust makes you see stars.
You can barely keep track with how long it's been since he’s been fucking you silly, your eyes rolled back, drool coming down the sides of your mouth. With each thrust your entire body is moved forwards and back on the bed with the sheer intensity of his forceful movements, only highlighting the difference in size between you two, how easy it is for him to toss you around and bend you to his every whim.
Suddenly, he pulls out of you with an obscene, wet sound, making you gasp and shudder. He flips you onto your back and wastes no time in shoving his bulges back into you forcibly, electing a high-pitched moan from you.
“You're so beautiful, it's fucking heartbreaking that nobody loves you.” He’s watching you fall apart on his bulges, leaning in closer to lick at the tears that fall down your face. His hands grip onto your hips, using them as leverage to slam you down harder onto him. You really hate him, you hate him for saying these awful things to you, for doing even more horrible acts to your body— but you can't bring it in yourself to fight back, because there’s a secret part of yourself that loves this.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls, his twin bulges writhing inside of you, and he starts to hit a spot that makes you arch your back in ecstasy, pleasure and pain sickeningly mixing as you cry out. This captures Sollux’s attention and he immediately starts to focus on that spot, hitting it with a dedicated, brutal force that leaves you panting and whining. A carnal look of desire is etched onto his face; fangs bared as he witnesses the mess he’s making of you.
“So fucking pretty and for what. You dress up everyday for nobody. I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, and I don't fucking like you one bit. What a miserable life you have, Ampora.”
His words sting, knowingly targeting your insecurities revolving around loneliness, yet somehow you only feel hotter, the line between shame and arousal blurring, especially when he praises your looks.
With a cloudy gaze you drink in the sight of him in all his sadistic glory, as he lands claim over you, eager to break you and own you— so no one else could ever have you.
It’s exhilarating and you feel drunk on masochistic pleasures. It’s so good— the humiliation of being treated like lesser than is making you slick around his bulges, your body giving way to his intrusions in a cacophony of ecstasy and pain, fins flaring in arousal as you shiver underneath his body.
“It’s not true you fuckin’ asshole, s-shut up already!” You try to lace venom into your words but it’s coming across more as a pleading whine than anything. He laughs at you, bringing his hands around your neck once more to silence you, cutting off your supply of oxygen.
“It’s all true. You have no one. I’m the only good thing in your life. I’m the only person who can make you feel this good. You’ll be wishing I could do this to you every time you think about me. It’s fucking pathetic.” He loosens his grip, giving you a second to breathe, or maybe he’s taunting you, waiting for you to protest, but you can only manage a snarl, baring sharp teeth, yet with no movement of protest— essentially submitting to your fate. Sollux scoffs, not seeming all that shocked, before denying you of air once more.
You know you shouldn’t be acting this way- bowing down to Sollux Captor of all people, the troll you’ve spent sweeps attempting to convince you were superior to, yet the way he uses your body like a doll makes you feel better than you ever have before.
He keeps rutting inside you, and his movements are starting to stagger as his breath hitches, his thrusts starting to become sloppier and erratic, chasing his own pleasure. You still can't breathe, and you start to feel lightheaded, seeing black at the corners of your vision. It’s all getting far too much, yet he only picks up the pace, making you hurt worse. You feel like you might die.
Somewhere along the line, you think Sol might’ve been considering mercy as he realizes you were about to go unconscious, and he finally releases you from his grip, giving you a moment to catch your breath before he’s moving a hand down to rub at your heat, and you feel hot white flashes of pleasure cloud your consciousness.
“Oh fuck, fuck, Sol, oh my god!” Words are spilling out of your mouth before you can register them, feeling deliciously overstimulated— you don’t want this to ever stop, you need more. He’s such a sick freak but you can't stop yourself, you need him. You hate him. Your arms wrap around his back, pulling him as close as possible, seeking comfort in the other troll, getting louder and more needy by the second. Every touch is electrifying, the pain barely registering as you felt pressure start to build deep within you.
“Fuck, finally you’re listening. That’s my baby. Good baby.” He coos down at you encouragingly, praising you for finally submitting. “Finally you realize that I’m the only one who can ever get you to feel this way. Nobody else could ever compare to me.” He’s speaking in-between grunts and moans, taking satisfaction in how he’s conquered you.
“God, god, yes master, w-whatever you say!” You can't believe what you’re saying, but everything feels so amazing, you can't help but give in completely. You’d deal with the humiliation of it all later, for now, you felt like you were in heaven.
Calling him master is what seems to push Sollux over the edge, and with a low growl, he gives a few, hard thrusts before bottoming out into you completely, emptying his genetic material deep inside of you. You’re crying again, the feeling of being filled up, the unrelenting pace on your nook, it doesn’t take long before you practically scream out his name, cumming all over his bulges as he rides out your orgasm with softer movements, making sure to milk out everything you have, until you feel much, much too overstimulated to feel good.
“That’s my good boy.” He whispers again, catching his breath as he pulls out of you, slumping down on his side to lay down beside you.
You’ll process everything in the morning. For now, you close your eyes slowly, drifting into sleep as you feel the gold-blooded troll shift in bed, bringing your frame into his, enwrapping you in an unfamiliar warmth.
There was seriously something wrong with you.