#oblivion is but a click away
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orphicsun · 3 months ago
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warnings: soft dom vi/abby + sub!fem reader, strap-on sex, praise, this is soooo self indulgent.
You'd think your strong girlfriends would be mean to you in bed. You previously imagined their degrading words. You thought that they would be the type to have you fucked dumb, failing to hold in your whimpers as they call you their needy little whore.
They're sweet, but it makes it even worse. They're so unaware of everything they do to you.
Abby and Vi are flexible. They forget you aren't. They fuck you in the most humiliating positions—your legs spread as wide as possible with Abby's grip on the back of your thighs, thrusts not gentle but words surely are.
"That's it, my love. Just be a good girl and take it. Look at our sweet girl, Vi." Abby coos praisingly.
Vi is quick to tease and give you the most sarcastic responses anywhere but in the bedroom. Now, all she can do is sweet talk.
"And a pretty pussy. I bet it's squeezing your dick so tight." Vi adds, her vulgar words causing just what she says. Abby can feel it like a phantom limb, and your clit twitches underneath her large thumb as a tell.
Vi squeezes your tits and leans down to suck on your nipples. Her tongue is warm against your pebbled skin, and you squirm despite Abby's firm hold. She doesn't scold, though. She lets you try and get away, self-assured you'll just lay down and take it until her favorite strap-on has that creamy ring of precum around it.
It's even more embarrassing when Vi gets her turn with you, loving to fuck you sideways. She has you laying on your side, one leg resting and the other hitched up. She lovingly yanks you until your bodies are flush and you can feel the tip of her strap nudge at your cervix.
Abby and Vi don't call you dirty when you turn your head into the pillow and moan a jumble of incoherent begging into the fabric. They think it's cute. Vi pounds you just like that, loving having you fully exposed to her hungry gaze as Abby strokes your cheek like you're not getting fucked into oblivion.
Their staminas are the scariest part of the whole ordeal, though. They can spend hours making you cum--feeling you clench around their fingers, fucking you or rubbing their own pretty, wet cunts against yours, and taking greedy turns tasting your release when you tap out.
And aftercare unfortunately doesn't work. It turns you on again when they're sweet and loving as they clean you up, Abby smothering your skin in soft kisses and Vi holding you against her, bare back to chest. And they won't tease you for wanting more, only carefully laying you back down and stuffing your cunt for the fifth time that night.
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taglist: @moonfloweredprincess, @morticeras, @starryeyedlovergirll, @abbysmeatrider, @ferxanda, @frillynpinkprincess, @meow4510, @eriiwaii, @g4ys0n, @mitskimisfit, @ruelezz, @bewareofmyglock, @witzs want to be tagged? click here
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schisms · 2 years ago
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i don’t get all the fuss about häagen-dazs. it’s not even that good
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raestromboli · 6 months ago
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making out with virgin!matt. ♡⁩
it’s late at night. a little too late, but that also means you get matt all to yourself. the heat is on full blast which doesn’t really upset you as it usually would since you get to see your pretty boyfriend shirtless.
matt has his back pushed up against his bed frame, his large hands awkwardly gripping your bare thighs that encage his waist—all while being kissed into oblivion. his hair is messy, his earlobes are tinged pink, and his brows are slightly pinched upward as your tongue explores his mouth. all that can be heard are the occasional whimpers that come from both you and matt and the sound of your lips clicking against his.
he’s so overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. his senses are filled with your fruity scented shampoo and you feel so right on top of him, especially when he can feel the heat of your soaked cunt against his bulge. your lip gloss is smeared all over his cheeks and it spreads down in kiss marks all the way to his collarbone.
you hum against his plush lips, arching your back to push yourself further into matt’s chest and tilting your head to lightly make space between his lips.
“you can touch me, y’know.” you sweetly mumble over your boyfriend’s lips, a grin growing on your face when you feel matt’s hands shiver.
“y-yeah?” matt’s voice is hoarse and scratchy, almost like he had just woken up. he pants against your lips when you hum and nod, eyes daring to roll to the back of his head as you rake your hand through the short hairs on the back of his head.
and of course, without a beat, matt does exactly what you say. a shaky hand slides up your thigh and goes to paw at your waist, and he keeps it right there for a moment before you grip onto his hair, suddenly deepening the kiss and making his self control falter. that’s when his hand glides up even further and latches onto your tit. a meek groan is stuck in his throat when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra and he can feel your nipples hardening in his palm.
you’re trying real hard not to giggle at your boyfriend’s attempt to keep calm. he’s so innocent and doesn’t know what to do with you nor himself, maybe that’s why he’s only groping you over your shirt.
but even just the slightest touch makes you so desperate for him. when you break the kiss apart, matt slightly peeks an eye open to watch you let out a puff of air over his lips, brows pinched up in pleasure. oh, he didn’t realize you’d react like that. he’s not complaining either, not when you look so pretty and definitely not when your hips subconsciously buck into his lap and letting out a gasp when your panty clad cunt bumps up against his bulge.
“f-fuc—oh my god . .” he whines under his breath. at this point, matt is gone. his lips are parted, cheeks are burning, and all he can do is just look down in between each other’s bodies and catch a glimpse of your puffy pussy grinding up against his boner. the hand that isn’t on your tit is latched onto the waistband of your baby pink panties, just holding on for dear life as you whimper his name in his ear.
it’s all so fun to you. you pull away from matt to properly get a look at him and there’s nothing you could do besides grinning at him teasingly. he already looks so fucked out, lips glistening in the low lighting, his hair tousled all over the place, and his eyes are so low that he looks high.
you lean forward to place kisses starting from his jawline and trailing up to his ear where you can then feel his hips bucking up, “want me to keep going?” you giggle. and of course, matt nods wordlessly, muttering a whiny ‘uh huh’ under his breath before he hurriedly places his lips back onto yours.
you’re really glad everyone is sleeping, you don’t know how loud matt can get, nonetheless you can’t wait to see.
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n0rmal-cat · 3 months ago
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Yandere Farmer x Thief reader- simple instructions
[yeah sorry for whatever is happening, let me know if there’s any trouble]
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You wake up with a groan, dreading the morning light that floods your senses like a harsh reminder of your dreary existence—cold, dark, and uninviting. You’d gladly slip back into sleep, surrendering to the comforting embrace of oblivion. But as you turn over, expecting the familiar hardness of an abandoned building’s floor beneath you, you instead find yourself nestled on a soft pillow. Where are you?
You glance around the room, and the sunlight streaming through the window suggests it’s probably mid-day. "How did I end up here? Did I sleep with someone?" you wondered.
Rising from the bed, you stretch your limbs, stepping out of the bed feeling a softness beneath your feet. "Wow, carpeted floors, fancy... oh, and pyjamas damn." Just then, the door creaks open, must be the lucky-.
"Didn't I tell you to get up before seven?" His voice sends a shiver down your spine. "You!? I thought you were... it wasn't a dream?!" you yell in surprise. "I wouldn't call you stealing from me a dream, but I assure you, I'm entirely real." He removes his hat, revealing beads of sweat trickling down his face and a slight sunburn marking his arms—no, stop that!
"So what time is it, then? If you wanted me up, why didn't you just wake me?" you ask. "Half past eleven. Now tell me, if I woke you up, would you have learned?" His accent is thick as he steps closer, his presence closing in. "A dog needs to be trained, doesn't it?" He stops right in front of you, an imposing figure. "Now, back on the bed." Heat floods your cheeks, turning your face as red as a ripe tomato. "W-what?"
"What, you don't understand simple instructions?" He towers over you, commanding. Without a word, you find yourself sitting back on the bed, heat coursing through you. He kneels before you, grasping your ankle with one hand and sliding the soft fabric of your pyjama pant leg up while rummaging through his pocket with the other. You bite your lip you hadn’t anticipated things taking this turn, but if you’re honest with yourself, you aren’t complaining. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes in anticipation.
A soft click resonates in the silence, and you snap your eyes open, realization dawning as you look down. "What is..." You gaze at your foot, wide-eyed. "Did you put an ankle monitor on me?!" Staring up at him in disbelief, he dusts off his hands with a satisfied smirk.
"How else am I supposed to ensure you don’t run away before you repay your debt?" You’re left speechless, taking in the situation, words failing you. "I'll be downstairs. Get ready and come down quickly because you're already on thin ice, pest." With that, he strides out of the room, leaving you in stunned silence. You lift your foot, inspecting the monitor strapped to your ankle. Etched in golden lettering is the name "August."
"I don’t know if I should feel turned on or pissed off... I guess I’ll get dressed." You make your way to the closet, which is a chaotic jumble of clothes none in the same size or style, and most appear to be barely even cleaned. After some debating , you settle on a simple shirt paired with overalls, the only outfit that seems relatively clean.
After getting ready, you make your way downstairs, trying your hardest not to make a sound. Even though he already knows you’re in the house, it’s a habit you picked up over the years of breaking into people’s homes. As you reach the kitchen, the man you now suspect is ‘August’ is busy cooking something unidentifiable.
The air is thick with an odour that hits you like a freight train—reminiscent of rotten meat. You quickly cover your nose, suppressing a gag. "Do you normally make this much noise when you try to sneak up on someone?" he comments without turning around. "Well, it’s hard when whatever you’re cooking smells like shit..." He hums to himself, his demeanour unperturbed. "Should I gag you as well? You seem to run your mouth a lot. Your food is already on the table."
And so it was, a perfect picture of pancakes, bacon and eggs, but again with the smell of...whatever that was in your nose you couldn't bring yourself to eat anything.
"So what are you cooking then?" you move to try to see what was on the pan but he blocks you with his shoulder.
"my lunch, now eat" his tone firm.
"ah I don't think I can eat right now-" you started to protest, but he spun around, gripping both your shoulders "I had leniency on you in the morning, I made you a full plate for you, lord knows you haven't eaten in a while"
"you don't know that"
"I've watched you on my cameras steal my excitement and sell it off just to get a meal, I quite literally see my logo in the pawn shop every weekend I go back to buy my own stuff, did you not question why you kept taking the same plow every time?"
He seated you forcefully at the table, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions, it felt nice to be here, I mean he was right, the last decent meal you had was well...
"ok fine ill eat the damn food, can you at least tame your 'lunch' to a different room?"
"I already ate" he crossed his arms, a bit of sauce dripped down his chin, you narrowed your eyes at him as you cut into your pancakes.
“So, what am I supposed to do to repay this debt?” you asked, chewing.
“You’ll be working for me, just as I said—feeding the animals, helping me carry food to the stalls,” he replied, leaning forward.
“You don’t really look like you need much help with that,” you mumbled through a mouthful of food.
He leaned over on the table with his hand "And I definitely don't, but I told you I would train you wouldn't I?"
"I guess..."
he took your chin with his rough hands "When you're done come out to the back, but I want that plate to be clean" You feel a knot in your stomach as you nod.
“Good job,” he praised, "I'm glad you can understand simple instructions" Your face travelled with his hand as he walked out through the back door.
You swallowed hard, the remnants of your meal suddenly feeling heavy in your throat. “Holy shit…”
[Please be patient with me I had a rough day, the art is 70% done I’m just not in the right mood.]
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junebuggiezz · 13 days ago
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Staring ain't enough! ✦ Jax (TADC)
𖦹—*Rubs hands together like a fly* You already KNOW!!
Gender neutral || Can be platonic or romantic || Censored/Uncensored swearing || Reader has no mentioned features
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“Oh, my god... What am I looking at?” You bite your lip to prevent your laughter from spilling out, but the shakiness of your voice doesn’t fail to make Jax squint at you in anger. Pomni sits on his left as she kicks her legs in the air, obviously looking away to avoid any part of the conversation.
There on the bench he sat, dawned in a maid outfit with black slip-on shoes, knee-length white socks, white gloves— Is that a chest window!?
“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m in a maid outfit, look to your heart's content.” Jax then notices your eyes peer up and widen. He realizes what you were looking at and covers the window with his hand. “WELL DON’T LOOK AT THAT!” He yells out angrily. “Can’t even give a guy some decorum! You’re such a degenerate!”
You place the palm of your hand near your cheek. “Oh-ho-ho, no! If this is what I voted for while I was on the field then this may as well be my prize,” You walk over towards the bench and sit on his right side, your eyes not leaving his form, “It’s not everyday you get an outfit change afterall.”
“We literally had four other places where our outfits changed and THIS is the one you decide to fully focus on?”
“Mhm!” You nod. You continue to look at the window without shame, giggling to the point your cheeks started to flush. Jax’s lip tightens and pupils slowly shrink into squares as you continue poking fun at his misfortune. He had the mind to shrink you into a softball and toss you into the sun.
You lean back to wipe the tear that was forming in your eye and look up to the sky with playful longing. “I really wish I had a camera right now—”
“No.”
“—Specifcally a polaroid—”
“NO!”
The voting table pops up and the two of you look down at it; Besides Jax and Pomni, everyone approved whatever request had been placed. To the dismay of the purple rabbit, you were suddenly given a shiny new polaroid camera right in the palm of your hand. The face you made could be comparable to the Devil himself. You’re off the bench in a blur and suddenly in front of him with the camera covering half your face.
“Smile!” You happily laugh before he’s hit with a flash of white. He yelps, blinking his eyelids before covering his face.
“Augh, jeez— Put your [@!$#] toy away!”
SNAP!
“[NAME]!”
SNAP! 
“STOP TAKING PHOTOS OF ME!”
SNAP!
“FOR [%$!#]’s SAKE—C’MERE!” He leaps off the bench with his arms outstretched. His attempt at grabbing you fails as you dodge to the side and begin running towards the end of the benching area. Pomni watches from the sideline as you’re chased for a bit before Kinger stops Jax, telling him it was his turn to bat.
(ᐢ. ₓ .ᐢ)
Walking back into your room after the suggestion adventures, you sadly toss out the polaroid camera that Jax had slapped out of your hand and stomped into mangled oblivion. You walk towards your bed, turn your back to it, and flop onto its soft covers, allowing you to stare at the ceiling for a while. Once you’ve processed the events of today, your mind suddenly clicks again to Jax’s maid outfit fiasco. Your cheeks flush as your chuckling turns to laughter.
You dig into the space in your outfit and pull out the polaroids that had processed by the end of it. A few of the photos were a bit smeared from Jax attempting to launch at you, but the rest were as clear as day—especially of the window.
Your door is suddenly swung open.
Jax’s gloved palm is curled tightly on the door knob, his figure hunched over, and his face flushed pink in the middle. You can see his teeth sneer as he stares you down from the opening, even more so when he locks his eyes onto the photos in your hands. You’re about to question how he got in when you see a key placed in his other tightly-fisted hand.
Well it’s not like you didn’t see this coming at some point.
You laugh tauntingly albeit with a hint of fear, waving the photos in the air. “You’re still not upset about the photos I have of you, right? I can always toss ‘em in the trash if that’ll make you feel better.” You smirk.
Jax’s laugh is anything but nice. He is seething. 
“Oh-ho-ho, no… I don’t trust you in doing that sort of thing, especially when I leave this room.” He takes a few steps into your room, kicks the door closed with his foot, and locks the door without turning away from you. “SO! We’re gonna settle this one way or another,”
Your smile wobbles slightly and you feel sweat begin to form on your forehead.
He smiles angrily and his left eye squints. “‘Cause I’m not leaving this room without those photos.” 
Well shit…
𖦹—Thank you Gooseworx for feeding us Jaxlings
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cheers-to-you-th · 7 days ago
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Practice Makes Perfect
Pairing: Hoshi x reader Word Count: 3.1k Genre: Smut !MDNI!, pwp Warnings: overstimulation, dom!soonyoung, some degradation, fingering, unprotected sex Summary: all you want is for your boyfriend to fuck you into oblivion in the practice room, is that too much to ask??? or where hoshi is sweet while trying to teach you a dance but you just wanted to see the commanding performance leader in action.
@lovetaroandtaemin and @supi-wupi ty for being amazing beta readers ily
"one, two, dadu da- other foot baby"
Soonyoung gently nudges your foot with his to correct your movements, fixing the mistake as frustration gathers in your stomach and lower. It’s no secret that your boyfriend is sweet and cares for you like you're the most important thing in the world. While you do love how gentle he is with you, recently the urge to rile him up until he fucks your brains out has been occupying your brain more often than not. It started with watching a behind-the-scenes of his dance practice. Watching your undeniably hot boyfriend command his members with ease made your stomach leap, and when his voice grew increasingly lower as he focused on formations, you decided it was time to dance.
Or, more accurately, to dance poorly while your boyfriend slowly gets worked up and rails you into the next dimension on the floor of the practice room. At least, that had been the plan until Soonyoung decided to suddenly have more patience than he’s had in the last 10 years combined. Your final straw is when your phone buzzes and you see the time on the screen (ignoring Vernon's text about a random meme) to find you have been practicing for over an hour. A grumbled sigh escapes your lips, promptly cutting off Sooyoung's instructions on how to isolate your arms while moving god-knows-what-else as he softly spins you around in his arms, observing the pout on your face.
"Don't be sad baby, you'll get it eventually. I promise," Soonyoung punctuates his words with a peck on your nose. "Besides, you have the best boyfriend ever to help you out."
A mutter about ‘him not helping in the way you need him to’ accidentally slips from your thoughts before you can stop it, and earns an (unnecessarily hot) eyebrow raise from the man in front of you. You feel his hands rub slow circles on your waist, “What was that, oh-so-lovely-girlfriend of mine?”
Face flushed, you try your best to wriggle out of his grip, which turns to iron at the attempted escape. Soonyoung clicks his tongue at you, “Uh no ma’am, you aren’t walking away from this. What did you just say?” A soft smile adorns his lips as he looks at you with unbridled love.
“You know, lovely, if you want me all you have to do is ask. I don’t know how dancing came into the equation, but I’m more than happy to help you in any way you want.”
Your cheeks burn, the weight of Soonyoung’s gaze and the press of his hands anchoring you in place. His body is warm and solid against yours, and the way he’s looking at you—amused, curious, just a little bit smug—isn't helping your composure. Especially not when his thumbs start drawing lazier, lower circles at your waist, dipping closer to the hem of your shirt with each pass.
“I did ask,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper. “Just... indirectly.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Soonyoung laughs. It’s not mocking, it’s surprised, delighted, downright pleased—like your confession just made his entire month. “Ohhh,” he hums, voice thickening as he tilts his head. “So that’s what this was about. It wasn’t the dance, you’ve just been trying to rile me up?”
You open your mouth to protest—unsuccessfully, because he’s backing you up, one slow step at a time, until your spine hits the mirror and his body presses into yours, warm and solid and everywhere. It takes him a second. “You sabotaged your own dancing,” he says slowly, “to make me snap?”
Your silence is answer enough. He exhales a single, stunned laugh before his hands come up beside your head. “You really wanted to get fucked in the practice room that bad, baby?”
You can only give a pathetic whimper in response.
“Wanted to see your performance leader in action, huh?” he says, low and teasing, breath brushing your ear. “See what it’s like to be bossed around?”
“I wouldn’t call it bossed,” you manage, even as your knees threaten to give out under the weight of your need. “Just… led. Strongly. With purpose. Preferably while shirtless.”
Soonyoung’s grin turns dangerous as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as his voice dips, no longer sweet and soft, but the commanding timbre that drove you crazy in the first place. His hands slide up, bunching your shirt higher until his fingertips skim bare skin. “You should’ve said something sooner, baby. I would've made sure you couldn’t walk out of here. You’ve been all worked up this long? That’s so cute.”
You let out a frustrated whimper that makes him groan.
“God, you’re lucky I like hearing you beg.”
And just like that, he switches: Voice lower, hands firmer. That sharp precision from dance practice snapping into place, all focus and control and command. “Hands on the mirror,” he says, tone like honey-drenched sin. “Now.”
You obey instantly, palms flattening against the cool glass, heart pounding so hard you think he must hear it over the soft hum of the speakers still playing a looped instrumental track. The mirror fogs slightly under your breath as Soonyoung steps up behind you, chest pressed to your back, his hand ghosting under your shirt before slipping higher—teasing, purposeful, drawing out every shiver.
“You want me to take control,” he murmurs, fingers skating along your ribcage like he’s marking territory. “Then don’t move until I tell you to.”
Your breath catches. His voice is nothing like the teasing, affectionate Soonyoung you started practice with. This is a different man altogether—calculated, intense, voice edged with restraint that won’t hold back for long.
You nod, and he tuts softly behind you. “Words, baby.”
“Yes,” you gasp.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.” You whimper, prompting a satisfied hum from him.
His fingers trail down again, tugging the waistband of your shorts with enough pressure to make your whole body jolt. One hand stays at your hip, pinning you in place, while the other brushes between your thighs—teasing touches, slow and maddening. His mouth finds your neck, kissing softly just behind your ear before grazing teeth along your pulse point.
“You could’ve had this hours ago,” he murmurs, voice dark and silky. “But no. You wanted me to break. Wanted to be handled.”
His fingers finally press where you need them, making your hips jerk against the mirror as a strangled sound escapes your throat.
“That's what I thought,” Soonyoung says, lips curling into a smirk against your skin as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your shorts, finding no panties. “So naughty, so needy, all because I wouldn’t stop being sweet.”
His fingers slide between your slick folds, and you gasp, forehead thunking lightly against the mirror as your legs spread instinctively, your body betraying you in all the best ways. The friction is maddening—too little, too slow, too perfect. Every touch is deliberate, calculated with the same precision he uses to choreograph a stage performance, and somehow it’s infinitely more devastating.
“Look at you,” Soonyoung murmurs, slow and almost reverent. “You’re shaking, baby. I’ve barely touched you yet.”
You whimper in response, breath fogging the mirror faster now, a broken plea tangled in your throat as your hips try moving back towards him. His hand at your hip tightens—holding you still.
“Nuh-uh.” His voice is strict now, sharp enough to freeze you in place. “You don’t move until I say so.”
Your knees buckle slightly under the weight of that command, and Soonyoung chuckles darkly, the sound curling around your spine like smoke. He drags his fingers in a maddening circle, feather-light, watching the way you twitch under his touch.
“You really wanted this,” he says, like he’s confirming it to himself. “Planned the whole thing. Acted all clumsy and frustrated, knowing I wouldn’t be able to ignore you forever. God, that’s so fucking hot.”
You nod helplessly, cheek now pressed to the glass, skin burning with the need for more.  His hand slips back up, slow and sinful, just long enough to tug your shorts down in one smooth motion, exposing you to the cold air of the practice room and his hungry gaze.
He leans in again, lips brushing your temple this time. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he whispers, and you can hear the feral grin in his voice. “Right here, against the mirror. That what you wanted?”
You whimper out a breathy, “Yes, sir,” and that’s all he needs.
His hand slides back down with new purpose, and this time he doesn’t tease. His fingers move with a torturous rhythm—steady, intentional, impossibly skilled. Your body arches involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping you as pleasure floods your limbs like molten lava.
“Good girl,” he praises, voice a growl against your ear. “So responsive, so fucking desperate for me.”
You’re already unraveling, fast and helpless beneath the steady pressure of his touch. Every swipe of his fingers has you keening, your palms slipping slightly on the glass as your knees threaten to give out completely.
And Soonyoung—your sweet, patient, dangerous boyfriend—just keeps going, murmuring encouragement in your ear, the rhythm of his touch never faltering. Like he’s performing. Like he’s giving you the show you begged for.
“Don’t come yet,” he says suddenly, and your entire body tenses in protest.
“S-Soonyoung—please—”
“Not. Yet.”
You whimper, the sound caught somewhere between desperate and pleading, and Soonyoung leans in close enough for his lips to graze your ear, his breath warm and steady as his fingers slow just enough to leave you trembling.
“You can take it,” he murmurs, almost encouraging now, “I’ve got you, baby. You wanted me to lead—so let me.”
The tension coils tighter in your belly, unbearably hot and dizzying, but you force yourself to hold still, nails digging into your palms against the mirror. Soonyoung kisses the curve of your shoulder, gentler now, voice softening with praise.
“There you go,” he whispers. “So good for me.”
A beat passes—his rhythm never faltering—before he says, low and certain, “Okay. Now.”
And you fall apart.
The heat crests in a wave that breaks you open, your body shaking in his arms as he holds you through it, his hand firm on your stomach, grounding you, keeping you tethered. He doesn't pull away—just presses closer, kissing the side of your head, temple, cheek, murmuring quiet words you barely register through the high still pulsing through your limbs.
You can barely register the sound of his belt coming undone before you feel him tease your still sensitive entrance.
"Ready for more?" He asks, and you nod, breathless, your eyes still closed, the world spinning.
Soonyoung’s hand leaves your waist, and you feel his warmth leave your side as he steps back to shuck his own bottoms. The sound of fabric hitting the floor is like a gunshot in the quiet of the room, the anticipation so thick it's almost tangible. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to stand steady as his hand wraps around the back of your neck, tilting your head back so you can meet his gaze in the mirror.
"Look at yourself," he murmurs, and you do, watching as he lines up his cock with your entrance. Your entire body is flushed and desperate, glistening with sweat, your pupils blown wide. Soonyoung looks at you with a mix of awe and hunger that sends a fresh tremor through your legs.
"You're so beautiful like this," he says, and then he's pushing into you, slow and deep, watching your every reaction. The pressure is mind blowing, stretching you in a way that has you gasping. You can feel every inch of him, and the way he's looking at you in the mirror makes it impossible not to watch.
Your eyes lock on his as he starts to move, the slap of skin echoing in the room as he drives into you. He's not gentle now—not sweet, not patient. His strokes are firm, demanding, the kind that leave no doubt who’s in charge. The kind that make your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in your shoes.
"Take it," he says, his voice thick with his own need. "Take everything I give you like the dirty slut you are."
You do. You take him all in, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge again. Your hands clench fruitlessly at the mirror, trying to find purchase as your body rocks back and forth with the force of his thrusts. He's everywhere—his breath on your neck, his hand on your hip, his cock pounding inside you, his eyes burning into yours.
And when you finally come apart for the second time, it’s with his name on your lips, your nails digging into his forearms, his grip tightening to keep you from sliding down the mirror. You cling to him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you, his pace not faltering once.
“Another, you can take it.”
Soonyoung’s voice is a dark promise in your ear, a whispered challenge that sends your body spiraling. You’re already so close, so overwhelmed by his control, the way he’s fucking you like he owns you—like he’s claiming you in the most primal way possible. You nod frantically, not trusting your voice, eyes never leaving his in the reflection as he starts to pick up the pace.
Your breasts bounce with the impact, nipples tight and begging for attention. His free hand reaches around, palming one and giving it a gentle squeeze that has your knees buckling. You can feel your orgasm building again, a tight coil in your stomach that feels like it’s going to rip you in half.
“Soonyoung, please—I can’t—”
He chuckles, the sound deep and dark. “You can, and you will.”
And just like that, you’re lost again. Your body is nothing but sensation—his cock filling you, his hands teasing your clit and chest, his breath against your neck, his eyes holding you captive in the mirror. The world outside this room doesn’t exist. There’s just you and him, and the dance of his hips, the symphony of your moans.
As you come, it’s like the mirror shatters, the room spinning around you. Soonyoung’s grip tightens, holding you in place, his strokes never faltering even as he watches your face contort with pleasure.
When your tremors subside, he leans in, his teeth scraping along your neck as he whispers, "Again." His hand between your legs moves faster, more insistent, and you realize with a shock that he's not letting up.
Your eyes fly open to meet his in the reflection—met with a dark and hungry gaze, full of an intensity that you’ve never seen before. You can't help but whine, your body feeling overstimulated and so, so close.
"Fuck, yeah," he murmurs, "just like that."
You're so sensitive now, the slightest touch sends you spiraling. You're panting, trying to keep up with his pace, but it's too much, too fast. You want to tell him to slow down, that you can't handle anymore, but all that comes out is a breathy "please" that seems to spur him on.
He grins, a wicked glint in his eyes. "You're gonna come for me again," he says, and you know he's not asking. He's telling you.
You try to shake your head, but he bites down on your neck, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. His other hand snakes around to cup your face, turning it so that you can see nothing but him in the mirror. "Look at me," he commands, and you do, his eyes piercing into yours, holding you in place as surely as his cock does.
The orgasm hits you like a freight train, stealing your breath, making your vision go white. Your knees give out, but he's there, supporting you, never once breaking eye contact.
When you're left a trembling, gasping mess, Soonyoung finally lets up, his hand sliding out from between your thighs, his cock still hard and deep inside you. "Good girl," he whispers, kissing you softly. "So good."
For a moment, you just stand there, panting, trying to catch your breath. Then he pulls out, spinning you around to face him. He lifts you up, his arms under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively.
With one hand, he lifts your shirt, and the other slides into your hair, tilting your head back. His mouth crashes into yours, the kiss deep and demanding, stealing what little oxygen you had left. You can feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.
"My turn," he says against your lips, and then he's walking you over to the sound system, pressing you against it. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine, but it's quickly forgotten as Soonyoung enters you again, his movements now urgent and desperate.
You wrap your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks you into oblivion. The room is nothing but the sound of your moans, the thump of music, and the slap of skin. When he finally comes, it's with a roar that echoes off the walls, his body shaking with the force of it. He buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged.
You hold on, boneless, as he slowly pulls out and sets you down. He takes a step back, his chest heaving, and for a moment, you just look at each other.
Then he smirks, the Soonyoung you know and love shining through the haze of lust. "I guess practice makes perfect," he says, tucking his shirt back in. "But maybe next time, you don't need to be such a brat to get my attention."
You roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion. "Maybe," you murmur, reaching for your shorts, "but where's the fun in that?"
His response is a kiss, deep and possessive, leaving no doubt in your mind who's in charge here.
You break away, gasping for air, your forehead pressed to his as his thumbs over your cheekbones, wiping away the stray tear that escaped in your climax.
"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice softer now, the commanding edge gone.
You nod, unable to form words, your legs still wobbly and feeling like jelly. He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose, and then leans down to scoop you up in his arms.
"Let's go home," he says, his voice tender, "I need to take care of my baby."
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nonsense-by-nell · 1 year ago
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"Oh?"
Warnings: squirting, rough sex, clit slap, overstimulation, crying, intense orgasm, mean obanai kind of??? sorry its short, saw him in the new season and couldn't get the idea out of my head of obanai and his needy princess. Word count: 0.8k NOT PROOF READ
You can feel the slick coating your inner thighs, can hear the squelch it makes as your lover pounds you into oblivion. The essence of your previous three orgasms makes you embarrassed and you're thankful for the pillow your heads dug into, muffling your dazed moans and whispers.
His hand travels along your back, looping under your stomach to come in contact with your aching clit. Your body jolts, he hasn't started rubbing yet but your clit has already been vigorously rubbed into your last two orgasms and can't take anymore. You try to push away when he starts the tantalising circles, the only thing that does is piss the serpent hashira off and force you into an even deeper, more punishing arch, causing his length to hit further inside of you.
You choke on air, hands fisting the pillow even tighter as you try not to scream into it. There's a coil inside of you, it's getting tighter and tighter and it's bordering on painful. It feels different. Your eyes are squeezed shut in concentration, droplets of sweat racing each other on your tense body. You've never needed to concentrate so hard before, your usual babbling was exchanged for silence, teeth biting down on your lips harshly, trapping the sounds. The pressure is making you lightheaded and dizzy and you're struggling to breathe.
Obanai was intrigued. He's never seen you so silent. So still. So obedient. "You okay?" He asks after studying you.
You turn your head to the side so you can breathe, gasping out an airy yeah between panicked breaths. This feeling is consuming you, it's taking over your body, a sensation you've never felt before. Your in conflict with yourself, your back is arching further, pushing yourself back as far as you can go to feel him hitting you deeper, but your hand moves like lightening to grab your lovers wrist, weakly trying to get him away from your poor clit.
Obanai tsks under his breath, clicking his tongue in disappointment after. He bats your hand away, reattaching himself back to your clit to circle it with more pressure. His other hand, that was on your hip, cages both of yours and forcefully pulls them behind your back, causing his body to hover over yours and his thrusts to become more bruising.
"Never do that again." He warns in a low voice, right next to your ear, finishing his statement with a harsh slap to your clit that has you choking on a sob.
"Ob-Obanai! Don't! I- I can't. Dunno what's happening — fuck!" Your voice sounds watery, like you're going to cry any second. Your body stiffens, a coursing flame travelling throughout you until you're completely alight. "G-god Obanai! I cantttt!"
Obanai's two toned eyes widen in interest when he feels a spray of liquid hit his thighs and coat the futon, dripping from your legs as the spray continued. "Oh?" He whispers in your ear, before dragging you up to hit the back of his chest. He splays four of his fingers against your clit, prolonging your orgasm and forcing spurts of cum from you with so much force that they push him and his seed out of you, all the whilst his other free hand settles on your throat, squeezing lightly.
You're crying now, you'd never been so overwhelmed before in your life. A few more weak spurts follow and then they stop and he cups your soaking heat after letting his thumb brush over your clit. A cry tears from your throat, salty tears cascading down your flushed face. Your shaking, convulsing, muscles spasming.
"You're okay, princess," he whispers, voice as smooth as silk, deep and inviting. His cold hands slither around your waist to turn you around in his hold, two toned eyes observing you with intensity. He watches how your hands eagerly wrap around his neck, your shaking body collapsing in his embrace whilst you snuggle into his neck. Needy. You're so needy for his comfort, for his praise, for him to bring you back to reality after the brutal, overstimulating sex you both had. You were needy and he loved it. Adored it even, because you needed him. Couldn't possibly be okay without him. You were his. Only his.
"O-Obi," you whimper into the crook of his neck, dampening his skin with your tears.
"What's wrong, princess?" He rasps, his hand instinctually rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of your back.
"Dunnooo," you whine. "J-just need you, Obi."
He smirks in response, kissing your head as he comforts you, relishing in your neediness. Music to his ears.
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etherealrin · 5 months ago
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HI THIS IS MY FIRST ANON REQUEST FOR U U LOVE YOUR WRITING . I cant get out of my head this image of one of the blue lock additional time moments that shows that Rin is using a big ass tablet instead of a phone so i got delusional and started thinking abt Rin having an idol gf that he absolutely adores and during his breaks he watches her fancams and stuff and his roommates are like totally surprised that he is so whipped lmao😭
♬⋆.˚ she's my idol!
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proplayer!rin spends so long on his ipad that his teammates start wondering what he's doing, or, rather, who he's watching...
warnings: none! // wc: 920
note: idol!reader, referred to as a girl. tysm to anon who reqed this, why are all of my anons straight genuises oml.
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itoshi rin is a man who values and needs privacy. unfortunately for him, his roommates seemed to have no such sense of those ideologies. the tall white haired boy, nagi, left him alone mostly out of laziness, but man was he nosy. however, the other boy sharing the sleeping quarters of blue lock's top 6, yukimiya kenyu, was more of a problem. his friendly facade (rin was sure he had ulterior motives) drove rin insane.
"rin-kun, what'cha watching?" yukimiya would pop up behind him at the most exasperating and random times, and what bothered rin most was the fact that he couldn't sense his presence. as if a lanky six-foot-tall high schooler could be stealthy. it scared the living daylights out of rin. of course, he had his reasons for wishing to be left alone—especially while he was on his ipad—because there was personal information in it! he doesn't need his lukewarm roommates trying to friend him on his brawl stars account, he doesn't need them discovering his photo albums, and above all else, itoshi rin does not want them digging into his youtube account.
and so he spends his rare moments of rest curled upon his bed like a cat, earbuds shoved in to eliminate the ruckus produced by the other two. really, how could they conversate for so long about what kind of animal isagi looked like?
when he hits the search query for your youtube account and clicks into the most recent of hundreds of fancams, the rest of the world becomes oblivion; rin only has eyes for you in those moments. he thinks you look absolutely jaw-dropping in the most recent upload, as if you belonged on the cover of vogue (admittedly, he owns a few magazines with your face on the front.) you're performing on the weekly music show, as you always did whenever you released a new song. the comments are drowning in fans filled with adoration, gushing about your talent, your visuals, your vocals: truthfully it makes rin a little jealous. why were so many people trying to steal his beautiful girl? he's unaware of the soft smile tugging at his lips the entire time, a light pink dusting his cheeks, earning him curious glances from nagi and yukimiya (they're whispering amongst themselves, what could possibly be making itoshi rin smile?)
ir0809: you were amazing, love.
you grin when you see the notification from your laptop. it had been a tiring day of practice and fulfilling your schedule, but your boyfriend's little comments will always brighten your mood. you wished you could call him, but you understood how he had no way to. with your stardom rising each day and rin's soccer career so close to the international stage, it was best to keep your relationship under wraps as to avoid any scandals. it doesn't change the fact that you miss seeing his face every day though, blue lock had taken away those stolen moments between the two of you as well.
rin's spending a little too long watching your interview from yesterday with laser-sharp focus (you were sharing a "what's in my bag?" and he sees the keychain he won you hanging from it) when nagi and yukimiya just materialize from the back, peering at the tablet screen.
"wait, you're a fan of her too?" nagi asks lazily, a curious gleam set in his melange eyes.
"rin-kun, i didn't take you as the type to like idols," yukimiya starts. rin has to bite back a high pitched scream.
"what the hell are you two doing, spying on me like i'm some specimen?" he growls, pissed that they had found out. "and for your information, nagi, she's my girlfriend!" of course, he just had to let nagi know that you were taken, he couldn't stand the idea of the boy looking at you with those heart eyes as well!
"HUH?" a collective gasp rings out from the two boys.
"seriously?" nagi asks. "i need proof, then."
so rin begrudgingly digs out a small white box, and nagi's eyes only grow wider when he sees stacks upon stacks of polaroids, letters, photo strips—all evidence of the dates you've been on before. rin even keeps the tickets of movies you've seen together. he's so distracted that he doesn't notice yukimiya, who'd retreated to a corner and begun to type rather urgently at his phone.
yukimiya: guys come quickly, rin's dating that one viral idol.
otoya: actually?? ur jk.
yukimiya: i am NOT playing rn.
it's then when the door swings open and karasu, otoya, and shidou fall through the space, almost breaking the hinges.
"it's true? rin-rin's whipped for some idol?" shidou teases, winking at rin. otoya eyes the box as well.
"there's no way you scored a baddie like her," the boy with green bangs groans in disbelief. "and i like her content too!" karasu only hollers in agreement, lightly hitting rin on the back.
rin's cheeks are heated and he hates to think about how badly he must be blushing right now. "all of you, i hope you don't value your family's lives too much," he says. "because they'll all be dead. very, very soon."
"AWWW, RIN-RIN'S BLUSHING!" shidou exclaims, which earns him a hard tackle to the floor.
but when the blue lock exhibition match goes public, rin still makes sure you're there in the front row. despite his teammate's relentless comments the entire match, he knows you're in those stands, cheering him on—and that's all he really needs.
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a/n: hopefully this is what you were reffering to/what you wanted, i'm thinking about that one additional time where it's yukki and nagi turning the boys into animals and rin's sitting on his ipad until they mention isagi LMFAO
masterlist!
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svtiddiess · 4 months ago
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Haunted!
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Synopsis: This is your apartment to haunt, so why does it feel like you're the one being tormented?
Pairing: human!Minghao x ghost!reader
Genre: crack, fluff, non-idol! au, fantasy! au
Rating: sfw
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: Minghao's a tsundere, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: Thank you twin @tomodachiii for helping me out with the banner!
Thank you so much @chugging-antiseptic-dye for betaing!
Click here to join my taglist!
Read on ao3
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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You perk up at the sound of the door clicking open. That's...new. You haven't heard that sound in ages. The apartment you've been haunting has been empty for years—mostly because you've scared off every single tenant who dared move in. You figured the realtor would've given up on selling the place by now, but apparently not.
Oh well. Just another human to chase away, you think.
Silently, you watch as the human steps inside, and your mouth falls open slightly. He's ethereal—so much so that you wonder if he's even human. His hair is dyed silver-grey and styled into a messy mullet. You thought mullets were out of fashion but, somehow, he makes it work. His features are almost too perfect, as if they were carefully sculpted by an artist. He looks like a statue come to life.
You shake the thought away. Now is not the time to be ogling him—you need to figure out how to scare him off. You watch as he brings in boxes and slowly unpacks, moving with an unbothered calmness that irritates you. You decide to wait until nightfall to make your move. Until then, you'll enjoy some much needed eye-candy.
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Night falls, and you watch as the man meticulously goes through his nighttime routine, each step executed with the precision of a surgeon. His fingers work expertly, massaging various products into his skin until he practically glows. You position yourself outside the bathroom door, planning to start simple with a classic jump scare as he steps out.
The door clicks open, and you immediately lunge forward, making yourself visible and letting out your most blood-curdling scream.
...he doesn't even flinch.
He just stands there, staring at you with a mildly irritated expression, as if you're nothing more than a pesky insect buzzing around his face.
Your scream fades into oblivion, and you lower your hands, bewildered. This is not how people usually react to you. Embarrassment creeps in so fast that you might be the first ghost to ever blush.
Rubbing his temple, he lets out a deep sigh. "If you're going to haunt this place, do it quietly. I need my beauty sleep," he mutters before brushing past you and climbing into bed without a second glance.
You stand there, dumbfounded, as he turns off the light, makes himself comfortable, and promptly falls asleep.
...this was not in the script.
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Days pass, and you learn the man's name: Minghao. You also learn that scaring him is a lost cause. Every attempt you made to drive him away failed miserably. In fact, it almost feels like you're the one being tormented.
He treats you like a nuisance, constantly shooing you away as if you're the intruder—even though he's the one trespassing in your home. He's even established rules for you, like banning you from the bedroom and bathroom. And it's not like you have to listen to him, you just choose to. It definitely has nothing to do with being afraid of his sharp glares or the way he scolds you like an exasperated parent. Absolutely not.
So, now, you're sprawled out on the living room floor, listlessly staring at the ceiling. You don't even know why—it just feels more interesting than usual.
Footsteps echo through the apartment, but you don't bother looking up.
A long-suffering sigh breaks the silence. "Stop moping around. You're making the place feel depressing."
You whip your head toward Minghao, glaring.
"I wasn't moping," you snap.
"You clearly were," he replies, tone flat. "So, cut it out."
You open your mouth, then close it, trying to come up with a witty comeback. But with nothing coming to mind, your shoulders sag in defeat. If only you were quicker with words. But, unfortunately for you, even when you were alive, you were always a little slow.
So, you just lay there and accept your fate (and defeat at the hands of a human).
Trying to haunt Minghao was the toughest thing you ever tried (counting both your alive and dead self).
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You go about your usual routine, aimlessly wandering the apartment—carefully avoiding the bedroom and bathroom as per Minghao's rules—when you spot him eating dinner in the dining area. Your mouth subconsciously waters at the sight of food. Sure, you've been dead for a while, and it's been ages since you last ate, but you miss the taste of food. Just watching him eat, you can almost imagine the flavours tap dancing on your tongue.
You're too busy drooling over his meal to notice the disapproving look he's giving you.
"Out of all the outfits you could've died in, you really chose that?" he says, voice laced with judgment.
Snapped out of your food-induced daze, you turn to him, offended. Sure, your oversized, tattered grey hoodie and stained sweatpants aren't exactly runway-worthy, but did he really have to point it out? It's not like you had the luxury of picking the outfit you were going to die in.
"That was unprovoked," you huff, crossing your arms.
"I'm just saying, if it were me, you'd never catch me dead in that," he shrugs.
And, annoyingly, he's right. Even when he's just lounging at home, he looks effortlessly put together—draped in silks and satin, somehow managing to exude both comfort and extravagance.
"Okay, fashion diva. I didn't ask for a critique," you grumble before stomping off.
As you leave, you fail to notice the small smile playing on Minghao's lips.
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You find yourself in the spare room Minghao converted into a study, silently watching as he sketches at his desk. You’ve learned that he's a fashion design student, which explains his ridiculously high standards when it comes to clothes.
You watch in quiet awe as his hands glide across the paper, effortlessly bringing designs to life. You've never been particularly talented at drawing—or at anything, really—so seeing him create masterpiece after masterpiece fills you with admiration.
Just as you're getting lost in observing him, he suddenly stops mid-sketch.
"I need you to stop being so loud," he mutters, catching you off guard.
You blink. "But...I'm not doing anything?"
"Your breathing is too loud."
"...I'm dead," you say, frowning. Can ghosts even breathe?
"Well, whatever you're doing, it's distracting," he grumbles, still not looking at you.
Your shoulders slump, and you pout. If he didn't want you here, he could've just said so. Huffing, you turn to leave.
"I never said to leave," he murmurs. "Just stop being so loud."
You pause, looking at him in confusion. So, he doesn't want you to leave? Your brain short-circuits at the realisation.
Awkwardly shuffling into a corner, you continue watching as he sketches—this time, hyper-aware of your nonexistent breathing.
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The sound of the TV fills the living room. You and Minghao sit in comfortable silence, watching a drama. You've come to learn that he has a love-hate relationship with this show—he complains about it constantly but can't seem to stop watching.
He's on one end of the couch, and you're curled up on the other. Somehow, over time, you've come to accept each other's presence. Any space feels emptier when he's not around.
"Do you remember how you died?" Minghao suddenly asks, eyes still glued to the screen.
You glance at him, then stare at the floor, trying to wade through the hazy memories. "No," you murmur. "I- I just woke up one day and realised I was a ghost, bound to this place."
He hums softly in response.
"Do you want to know? Find out how you died?" he asks, still not looking at you.
You hug your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. A long silence stretches between you, broken only by the noise from the TV.
"I don't know," you admit.
"I could help you," he says, voice quieter this time. When you look up, his dark eyes are finally on you, holding a softness you're not used to seeing on his sharp face.
His offer catches you off guard. No one has ever offered to help you before. Not when you were alive. Not after you died. Your ghostly heart stutters at the thought.
"I have a feeling that if I find out, I'll move on," you say hesitantly. "And I don't think I want to do that. Not yet." Your voice drops to a whisper. "I just want to stay here a little longer.With you."
A faint smile tugs at Minghao’s lips. "I don't mind that."
You smile back, warmth spreading through you—a feeling you haven't felt in a long, long time.
The two of you turn back to the drama, settling into a comfortable silence.
Being with Minghao makes the afterlife feel a little less lonely.
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Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @smiileflower
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crimsoncheckin · 28 days ago
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Don't Touch What's Mine
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Hell was never quiet, but tonight felt off.
The streets hissed with distant laughter and flickering neon, but your instincts kept screaming something was wrong. You walked a little faster, boots clicking over cracked pavement, one hand clutching the inside of your coat where your dagger rested—his dagger. A gift from Alastor, your eccentric but fiercely protective lover.
He was supposed to meet you by now. He always kept time like a symphony—perfectly punctual. But something had delayed him.
You turned down a side alley, hoping to cut through quicker—
—and that's when it struck.
A shriek and a blur. A hulking demon leapt from the shadows, claws flashing. You barely had time to scream as it slammed you into the wall. Pain exploded in your side; blood splashed down your shirt.
“Such a pretty thing,” it growled, licking its teeth. “Bet you taste just as sweet.”
You gasped, your vision swimming—but then the air changed.
Everything froze.
A sudden burst of static screamed through the air, warping reality around you. The temperature dropped like a body into ice water. Even the demon faltered, growling and backing away.
The hum grew louder.
And then… he appeared.
Not walking. Not striding. Tearing into existence.
Alastor.
But not as you usually saw him.
He wasn’t smiling.
No devilish grin, no twinkle of amusement. Just rage—raw, pulsing, dangerous. His eyes glowed a deep, infernal red, wide with fury. His antlers crackled with dark energy, twisting like thorns. Shadows slithered off him in waves as the full force of his demon form unfolded.
The alley flickered like an old television screen.
The demon took one look and ran.
Too late.
“DON’T—TOUCH—HER!”
Alastor's voice split through dimensions, distorted with multiple tones and radio static that cracked bone and ruptured air. The demon didn’t make it far before the shadows surged from Alastor’s coat like a wave, engulfing it.
There was screaming—then silence.
Just the low, familiar hum of his radio.
You slumped to your knees, breath shallow, head spinning.
Then arms—strong—wrapped around you.
“Shh, my darling. I’ve got you now,” he whispered, voice still flickering with residual distortion. His form was still monstrous: taller, darker, soaked in shadow. But his touch was heartbreakingly gentle.
You weakly smiled, pressing your forehead to his chest. “You came. Just in time.”
His arms tightened, his monstrous frame curling around you protectively. You felt his claws twitch where they hovered behind your back, like he was still holding himself back from going after whatever might still be lurking.
“I felt it,” he whispered, almost to himself. “The moment your blood was spilled… I’ve never known rage like that."
Your fingers brushed his face—his skin was colder, static still rippling beneath it—but he leaned into your touch. The monster beneath the showman, laid bare only for you.
“Hey,” you said softly. “You scared the hell out of me... but not because of your form.”
He blinked down at you, surprised.
“It scared me because I thought I might never see you again.”
His face shifted—his smile returning, this time smaller, real.
“My dear, if anything ever tried to take you from me, they’d be tuning into oblivion.”
You laughed weakly, and he gently picked you up into his arms like you weighed nothing. The alley flickered again—then fell into stillness, wrapped in the echo of a demon’s love.
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satorucci · 2 months ago
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love your big bro satoru fic!!! :) are you planning a part 2?
big brother satoru pt. 2 <3
♡ cw: incest, pining, slight breeding kink, choking, soft dom gojo, manipulation, slight dumbification, reader is a bit more of a minx than satoru might've thought :o
♡ currently listening to: pyramids - frank ocean
♡ nonnie note: thank you, nonnie!!! and thank you for submitting this ask! i wasn't sure if i would do a pt. 2 for this, but i ended up getting reallyyyy into the writing zone, so it's kind of long :o i hope you enjoy, and thank you for your support! have a lovely day/night mwah!
♡ author's note: remember kids, this is fictional! if you haven't read pt. 1, just click the link to read! dark content ahead!
MDNI
♡ big brother satoru, who, after sending you that ambiguous text is absolutely on edge. he's satoru gojo, the man whose never begged and asked for anything in his life. whether it be money or women, it's always been thrown at him, yet, here he is begging his shining, perfect, slutty little sister for a crumb of what he feels he may never be able to have.
♡ big brother satoru, who waits for your response for what seems like hours, cock hard and leaky, for some reason, only growing with anticipation. his phone, laying beside him, is quickly snatched up when he hears the ding! that must mean you've gotten back to him. hopefully, it's the video. hopefully, you're surrendering yourself over to him. surely, you know he's the one who can truly satisfy you. instead, his face drops at the message he receives. "were you listening to us?", and suddenly the satoru gojo doesn't know how to respond. he takes only a moment to figure out his response, not wanting to give you time to dwell on the fact that he eavesdropped on you fucking your boyfriend into oblivion, cock in hand, and cum all over himself.
♡ big brother satoru, who responds to his little sister with, "i wasn't listening, i could hear you from across the house." your response comes quickly. "let's say that is the case, it doesn't justify you asking for the video. stop being a creep, satoru." and his hopes are swiftly crushed. he can only respond with a consolation, "i was just kidding! you've known me for 18 years, you should know i'm not serious", and your follow-up response never comes. satoru has found himself soft, once again.
♡ big brother satoru, who ends his winter break on quite a sour note with you. when parting from your family, you refuse to look him in the eye, and you only give him a sorry half-hug as a parting gift. on your way out the door, your parents stand behind you waving as they send you back off to your respective colleges, and satoru thinks this is the perfect time to initiate a conversation with you. "hey, when are you gonna talk to me again?" he asks. "ya know i was just kidding about all that video stuff." your response is a cold shrug, and you never once meet his eyes. for once in his life, satoru gojo may have lost.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that ever since the initial text he sent to you, asking for your sex tape, you've been avoiding him like the plague only because you want to send the video. it's abnormal. it's an abomination to want your brother to see you in such a state, to see you performing such acts. the siblings you've either met or been introduced to through satoru who seemed even slightly weird, were always met with "woah, no wonder he can't get a girl. he totally wants to fuck his sister, yuck", or, "whew, she certainly has a boyfriend already. look at how she's all over her brother. gross." and then your big brother had sent a text about it all being a big joke. you'd spent time actually debating on sending him the video, only to second guess yourself and send a circumstantial text instead, to which satoru confirmed it was only a joke.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know how badly you've missed him while you've been away at college. it all started when you would show your new friends pictures of your family, and everyone's eyes immediately drifted to satoru. beautiful cerulean eyes, stark white hair, a tall, muscular frame. everyone always told you how lucky you were to have such a hot brother, everyone always asked, "is he single", and each time, a small fire of annoyance started in the pit of your belly. i know all this already, you would think, he's my brother. but only your brother, so why did you try so hard to stop others from getting to know him?
♡ big brother satoru, who has no clue that you jealously think of all the women he's fucked as you lay in your dorm room late at night. you've never brought any of them home as something serious, but you remember the nights your parents would be out and he'd bring home random hook-ups, which, in your childhood, was simply an annoyance. the random women he would bring home while you sat in your bedroom, movie ready to play and watch with satoru, would always fuck up your plans to hangout with your brother. sometimes you thought they were more important than you.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you lost your virginity in college out of spite. you wanted to see what was so good about sex that your brother could abandon you on movie nights to hook-up with some cheap woman he found in god-knows-where. the night you lose your virginity, it still doesn't make sense to you, not from your perspective anyway. the guy had wanted to fuck you since he'd laid eyes on you at your college campus. you figured he'd be the perfect one to ensnare in your trap. it hadn't been a pleasant experience, not for you. it hurt, and your bedsheets were stained with drops of blood. it was all-too cramped in the tiny dorm bed to really do anything of special note. it was simple missionary with a guy who obviously didn't have much experience, but the look on his face - oh the look on his face was priceless. he was so eager, so desperate, so entranced in you that he could barely control himself. maybe, you thought, this is why satoru does it.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you went through quite a few... "trial and errors" during your first few months of college, constantly seeking out that face from men. flushed cheeks, eyes brimming with tears, men who would beg and plead for just a single taste of you. you found yourself thinking of satoru each and every time you laid in bed with a man. wondering what his face looked like in the moments he was buried deep inside another woman- your brother. you had to always remind yourself, he was your brother. not an ex to get back at, or some guy who'd majorly scorned you - just your brother.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that, when you finally started to enjoy the physical aspect of sex, you started imagining his face beneath you each time. you tried your best to stop, to tell yourself that they were just intrusive thoughts (and your ears burned each time, maybe someone else was thinking the same), and that it would resolve once you went home for winter break and actually interacted with your brother. maybe, you just needed satoru to be annoying enough that you forgot all about him during these intimate moments. still, it didn't help the first time you called one of your random one-night stands by your brother's name. he swiftly left after that, walking through your dorm door wondering, "who the fuck is satoru?"
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that he's left you in an even worse state after you return to college from winter break. all you can think about are those text messages. what if you had sent that video instead of questioning how he knew about it? would he have called you a weirdo? would he have labeled you as one of those people who really wants to sleep with their sibling? would he have used the video, admired it?
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't text you much during your second semester of college. your birthday is quickly approaching, along with spring break, and you know that you'll be seeing your brother. you bite your lip anxiously every day, wondering what the interactions with him will be like. communication between the two of you has been so scarce, you can't imagine that it won't be awkward when you meet again. so, you decide to send him a text to clear the air. "hey, i know we haven't spoken much, but when we come home for spring break, i just want things to be normal. i don't think you're weird or anything... and i'm not mad at you. i just want my big brother back."
♡ big brother satoru, whose heart (and cock) ache when he sees your message come through. you just want your big brother back? something about the messages makes him pine for you even more. he, too, wants his little sister back, but not only in the way you do. satoru, who has been finding girls on campus who share striking similarities with you and fucking them ruthlessly into the mattress, doesn't know how he's going to go home and look at you with a straight face. when he can't find someone who looks even minutely like you, he picks up girls who don't mind being fucked from behind, and he imagines that it's you. he knows it's supposed to be wrong, but if it's him, the satoru gojo thinking it, doing it, it can't be wrong... right?
♡ big brother satoru, who responds to your text precociously, simply saying, "i love you, everything will be fine. i miss you, too".
♡ big brother satoru, who sees you again during spring break. you're another year older, and this time, you don't hesitate to meet his eyes or to run into his arms when you see him. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him, and my god, you smell so good. this time, there's no boyfriend with you, no tight dress, it's simply you - and he can't stand that he can't have you.
♡ big brother satoru, who during the beautiful spring season, tries to spend as much time as possible with you. he finds that you've changed just a bit. the awkward, weird girl he grew up with was now attracting the attention of passersby constantly - men always looking you up and down in the pretty little sundresses and skirts you wore. your personality had become more bubbly during your time in college. you'd become a real catch, and every time satoru thought of this, it made his heart ache in the worst way possible. some day, you would make someone very happy... and it wouldn't be him.
♡ big brother satoru, who catches himself staring at the plush of your thighs frequently when the two of you are alone. or staring at your cleavage, tits pressed tight against whatever piece of clothing you were wearing. he noticed that you preferred low-cut tops and tiny skirts, and he wondered, sometimes, if it was to purposefully draw the attention of others. other times, he wondered if it was simply because this was who you were.
♡ big brother satoru, who is completely oblivious to the fact that you wear these cute little getups just for him. ever since his first suspicious text, you've wondered if he'd have the gall to make a move. you find yourself wanting him to make a move. your brother has always been attractive, you've known this because you've watched friend after friend fall in love with his shining blue eyes and charming attitude, but it's only been recently that you've started to see it for yourself. satoru, who doesn't know that, sometimes, late at night, you touch yourself as you think of him. fingers circling your clit and working your insides haphazardly, wishing it was him doing it to you instead. spring break is coming to an end, and you're beginning to wonder if the lingering gazes you catch and the close brushes of his hand are just a figment of your imagination. you wonder, how would he react if you took it upon yourself to make a move on him? would he pull away? be disgusted? a part of you fantasizes that he'd lean into your touch, show you what it was like to be with the satoru gojo.
♡ big brother satoru, who doesn't know that you've hatched a plan to clarify his intentions, what he wants from you - if anything. three days before spring break comes to a close, you find yourself nestled in satoru's bed - nothing unusual. the two of you sit in comfortable silence after discussing mundane things such as classwork and upcoming schedules, how totally disinterested you both are in going back to your respective campuses. breaking the silence, you turn around to face satoru, who is lying on his side under the covers, face buried in his phone. "did i ever tell you why me and that guy broke up?" satoru turns to face you, the light from his phone illuminating his brilliant features. "no, you didn't. i didn't want to ask 'cause i thought it might make you all emotional". you grimace and shake you head. "no, i wouldn't have gotten emotional over it. he totally overstepped his boundaries."
♡ big brother satoru, who raises an eyebrow, interest piqued when he discovers that your ex-boyfriend made you uncomfortable in some manner. had he hurt you? had he laid his hands on you? "the fuck did he do?" satoru asks, turning off the phone screen and setting it down. the only light in the room comes from satoru's outdated and totally-not-in-style led lights that bathe the room in a light blue, almost the same color as his eyes. "he said he didn't wanna be with a girl that seemed more interested in her brother", you huff out a laugh, satoru's expression of confusion not lost on you. "what?" he sounded as though he was in disbelief, and you simply nod. "mhm. he said i talked about you way too much. said that winter break was weird because i was always asking him to hang out with you, but he never wanted to." satoru's entire body flips over, and he's so close to you now, you can feel the heat of his body emanating across the small gap between the two of you. "you didn't tell him about that text i sent you?" he asks. you shake your head and laugh. "why would i tell him about that? he was already suspicious. that would've made him think there was definitely something going on with us." satoru takes a moment to think. "hm..." he sighs deeply, as if contemplating something serious. "so the text wasn't what made it weird over winter break? it was your boyfriend?"
♡ big brother satoru, who is completely caught off guard when you answer his last question. "no, that didn't make it weird. you're my big brother, i share everything with you. i always have. i don't think showing you a little clip of a sex tape would be weird. not unless you made it weird. then again, you are known to make things kind of-" satoru cuts you off suddenly. "then show me." satoru, who is so entranced in the idea of watching you get railed, doesn't notice you biting your lip in anticipation. he's biting the bait. "you sure?" you ask. suddenly, the atmosphere in the room becomes tense in the same way it does before you know you're about to hookup with someone. that intensity that is born from a mutual lust between two people, whether it be pure biological instinct, or simply circumstantial. satoru nods, "maybe i can give you some tips since i'm such a great brother."
♡ big brother satoru, who is so, so thankful that your parents went to bed a long time ago. satoru, who is so thankful that their bedroom is on the other side of the large house they live in. satoru, who is so thankful that your parents can't hear your screams coming through the video that is playing on your phone. your ex-boyfriend was filming you from behind, delivering backshots that satoru found subpar, but he can't deny that seeing your wrists encircled by your ex's free hand and held behind your back as he delivers deep strokes is turning him on in a way he's never felt before. he wants so badly to see your face. why the fuck did this jerk only get an angle from the back??? satoru's eyes widen at the way your back arches, the moans that spill from your lips, and the pleas of "please, keep fucking me!" it's all too much for him. satoru gojo has never once in his life wanted to be anyone other than himself - at this very moment, he wants nothing more than to be your ex-boyfriend. to be anyone you've ever fucked.
♡ big brother satoru, who chokes up when you say, "what? cat got your tongue?" as you pause the video and tuck your phone away. he sighs, completely frustrated and absolutely pent-up. he can't let you see the hard-on that's raging in his pajama bottoms. yes, this is supposed to be nothing more than an educational moment between siblings. he's supposed to give you some sort of feedback, tell you something that could be improved on, tell you- "he sucks at fucking. and filming." and satoru mentally slaps himself. never in his life has he been this flustered. "oh, and how would the great satoru gojo improve this performance?" you ask. "for starters, i'd have you in a position where i could film your face. your my sister, so you're the absolute cutest. secondly, his rhythm is just... off. and he's not doing much for you other than just going in and out. i can't imagine that's actually grade-a sex." you chuckle and bit and nod. "yeah, it wasn't the best. i just made a lot of noise so that he'd feel good about himself. honestly, i could've had my face buried in my phone the entire time and that likely would've made it more interesting." there's a tense silence between the two of you. it lasts for a long moment and neither of you like it. satoru shifts slightly in the bed, and you snuggle deeper into the sheets, trying to hide your face. "you should show me." your voice is quiet as you make the request. you don't meet satoru's eyes, as you're sure he's confused. you couldn't handle it if you looked into his eyes and saw disgust.
♡ big brother satoru, who stares at you in disbelief. "show you what, exactly?" he asks. your face is still buried in the covers, so he can't read your expressions - can't tell if you're playing a cruel joke on him to get back at him. "ugh, show me how it's done properly, stupid. you are my brother, you're supposed to be some sort of guiding light in my life, right?" satoru is quickly melting into your words, but he needs to see your face before he does anything. he needs to know this isn't a joke. before you can react, he's ripped the covers from your face - your flushed face, cheeks red, pupils blown, lips quivering, the expression that has been the ire of each and every orgasm he's had since you ran off to college. "tell me you want me to, and i will. I'll show you everything."
♡ big brother satoru, who after hearing your shy confirmation, has you on your back in mere seconds, ripping your pajama bottoms off in an instant. he's nestled himself between your legs near the edge of the bed, and "holy shit, satoru, slow down-" he's already spreading your legs wide for him as you tell him to slow his pace. he's pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, lifting one up and throwing it over his shoulder before biting the inside, causing a whine to bubble up and spill out of your mouth. "nu-uh, can't slow down. not when you're right in front of me looking like this." his hands glide gently along your legs as he continues to press kisses to your thighs, imagining all the nasty things he's going to do to you, his perfect little sister.
♡ big brother satoru, who throws your other leg over his free shoulder, kneeling down low, low, lower, his mouth meeting your clothed apex. he stares up at you - you, biting your lip, trying to contain your moans. "don't hold it in now, sweet girl." his voice is sing-songy, and you wonder if this is the voice he uses on the other women he devours. "mom and dad are sleeping, so i wanna hear everything you have to give me." you release the grip on your lips, blushing as satoru gently rubs his mouth against your clothed cunt. you're already soaked. when did you become like this? when he hitched your thigh over his shoulder? when you were showing him the video? satoru, who doesn't know you've been wet since the moment you stepped into his room, fully intent on fucking him if he'd give you the honor. satoru, who fully places his mouth on the fabric of your panties, causing you to let out a gasp. his tongue moves masterfully up and down the fabric, his tongue dragging against your clit as you buck your hips into his mouth. his hands moved from where they're perched on your thighs to roughly grip your hips. he flattens his tongue against your cunt, lapping up every bit of juice that spills from your underwear, and it's not enough. not for either of you.
♡ big brother satoru, who slides your underwear to the side, allowing his mouth free access to your soaking cunt. he uses his tongue like a bonafide slut, dipping in and out of you rhythmically, thumb circling your clit as his free hand tries to hold your hips down, but he finds it hard to fight against the way you're bucking up against his mouth so vigorously. moans are spilling freely from your lips as you sink into a pleasure you've not experienced before. your ex never ate you out, he always said it "wasn't his thing". instead, your big brother takes care of you, teaches you about things you haven't experienced. and satoru just loves the way you ride his face. he could die like this. his family could hold the wake in this bed, and he'd be perfectly content. your cunt tastes heavenly, and suddenly he realizes why so many wars have been fought over women. satoru sucks on your clit gently, causing your knees to push together, squeezing his head between the fat of your thighs, and he swears his cock is twitching harder than it has all night. still, he wants more. he wants more for himself, and for you. he uses a free hand to push one of your knees away and he can feel your leg shaking. his mouth leaves your cunt only for a moment, and he gazes up at you, mouth glistening with your slick and juices. "want more, baby?"
♡ big brother satoru, who crooks his fingers deep inside of you as he continues to switch between circling your clit with his tongue and suck on it with his plush lips. you're a mess. legs shaking, moans and whines spilling from you constantly. again, he finds himself so thankful that only the two of you are awake. his middle and ring finger move inside of you, constantly brushing against a spot that causes you lose your sanity. your hips move on their own, smashing your cunt against his mouth, riding his fingers to your first orgasm, and itsallsomuchatonce. your hand finds its way to satoru's hair, gripping tightly as you cum in his mouth, on his fingers, hardly able to catch your breath as the tight coil in your lower stomach snaps viciously. and satoru doesn't stop. he gives you no reprieve. he continues eating you through your orgasm, the pain you experience from the overstimulation converging with the immense pleasure you're getting as you're coming down from your first high. "s-satoru, i-i can't, w-wait-" but he doesn't. your big brother continues his crusade of your cunt, sucking on your clit and fingering you at a rapid pace, hitting that same spot over and over and over - and you're cumming once again.
♡ big brother satoru, who when he emerges from your cunt, looks absolutely demolished. his hair is a mess of white strands, some sticking up from the way you've pulled and tugged on his hair, and some plastered to his face from a mix of sweat and your juices. you're so spent. you don't think you can continue, until your sweet big brother leans close to your ear, "you can keep going, can't you, pretty girl? wanna give me another one? this time on my cock." and suddenly, you can't breathe again. satoru presses a soft kiss to your cheek, running his thumb across your cheekbone, and how could you possibly say no?
♡ big brother satoru, who, looming above you, frees his cock from his pajama pants, before completely tugging your panties off. he motions for you to sit up and you comply. you raise you arms as satoru tugs your shirt off, as well, throwing it across the room. you didn't wear a bra, being that you were just lounging around the house. you didn't wear a bra, because you'd hoped that you might end up in this position with satoru, anyway. but you'd be lying if you said that the way he stares at your naked body didn't make you self-conscious. his eyes roam freely across your body, taking in the sight, memorizing every dip and curve of you, committing all of it to memory because he doesn't know if he'll ever get to see it again, though he prays he does. you move to cover your breasts, and squeeze your thighs together, concealing your most intimate areas, and in an instant, satoru is pulling your knees apart, planting himself firmly between them, before he reaches for your arms. "nuh-uh, pretty girl. i wanna see everything. you're too pretty to be playing hard-to-get with me. i might just lose my mind if you start restricting me now. look at what you've done to me." satoru takes ones of your hands, guides it to his rock-hard cock, and wraps your hands around it. his face is flushed, he looks so fucked out and he hasn't even put the tip in. you look down, really examining what he's working with for the first time since he's pulled his cock out, and your breath catches in your throat. how is that going to fit??? his cock is massive, prominent veins throbbing as his cock twitches in your hand. his balls sit pretty right under the base of his cock, full of cum that he's ready to absolutely fill you with. "wanna keep goin'?"
♡ big brother satoru, who gently lays you down on your back, fluffing the pillows around you as he prepares to enter you. before he gets a chance you protest, "wait! i'm the only one completely naked... a little unfair, don't ya think?" satoru laughs heartily and sits back on his thighs. "oh, ya wanna see what's underneath? undress me, then." of course, he isn't going to make it easy. you lean up, motioning for him to raise his arms up, and he complies. you tug at his shirt, and he helps you by wiggling out of the fabric because he's positively too tall for you to undress him by yourself. and of course, he's a greek god underneath his shirt, as well. he's all muscle and ripples and he looks like a marble carving. it's completely unfair. "you can touch, if you want." he leans in close to your ear, licking a trail up the side of your neck. "i want you to." your hands find themselves trailing up and down his solid abs, eyes entranced by just how beautiful your brother really is. no wonder he's had his fair share of women. but you don't want to think about them. you would like to imagine you're the only woman he's thinking of at this moment - at any moment. as your hands roam his chest, he leans down to kiss you gently on the lips, his tongue asking politely for entry into your mouth, and you grant him this. satoru, whose hands cup your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he continues to kiss you, slowly coercing you back to lying flat on your back.
♡ big brother satoru, who continues to kiss you as he lines his cockhead up with you entrance. he stretched you as much as he could with his fingers, but he knows it's still going to hurt. he presses little kisses along your jawline, taking a moment to look into your eyes lovingly before pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "you ready? 's gonna hurt a little. just hold onto me." satoru lifts his head and uses his hand to grasp his cock as he guides it to your entrance, his other arm caging you in on one side of your head. you do as he says, and grab onto his arm, mentally preparing for him to enter.
♡ big brother satoru, who kisses your breathless moans away as he enters you slowly. your face is screwed up and contorted in discomfort at the slow burn that envelops you as his cock splits you wide open. "doin' so good, pretty girl. my pretty girl. always been my pretty girl." he whispers quiet affirmations into your ear over and over, inch by inch, until he finally bottoms out in you. your grip on his arm is a vice as he gives you time to adjust to the cock that's absolutely gaping you. you swear you can feel it in your stomach, as his cockhead presses gently against your cervix. "you ready?" he aks, and you nod, a singular tear gathering at your waterline. satoru wastes no time wiping it away and kissing your cheek.
♡ big brother satoru, who moves slowly at first, still letting you adjust despite the primal urge to fuck you senseless into the mattress. his own breath becomes ragged as he struggles to contain his excitement, his eagerness. this is what he's wanted for the past year. satoru gojo isn't used to not obtaining the things he wants within a matter of days, yet he's waited a full year to make you his, and his cock twitches at the thought. his thrusts are deep and slow in the beginning, and your fingernails leave half-moon prints in his arm. your head is turned to the side as you mentally fortify yourself against the pain of his cock splitting you in two. it's when his free hand reaches down to circle your clit that the pain begins to turn into an undeniable pleasure. "ah! yes, like that!" you give him praise through instruction, and satoru grins. his hips begin to move quicker, his pace becoming a steady rhythm as he fucks in and out of you meticulously, doing his best to make sure he doesn't hurt you.
♡ big brother satoru, who, cock twitching inside of you, loses his sanity when he hears you whisper, "harder, satoru, please", and he absolutely obliges you. his pace quickens, the arm you were grasping finds you thigh and hitches it over his shoulder before gripping your hips and bringing them down to viciously meet the base of his cock. the scream you let out makes satoru sure that your parents are going to wake up, but the electric feeling going through you is one you have no control over. satoru takes control of your hips, slamming you into his cock repeatedly as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll and you writhe underneath him, begging him for more, begging him not to stop. at this point, you swear he's in your guts. each and everytime he slams you down on his cock, his cockhead bullies your cervix, veins of his cock brushing against that same spot that brought you over the edge when he was fingering you. he fucks into you at the pace of a madman, and when you look at him, leg thrown over his shoulder, hands on your hips, you can see how fucked-out he is. his pupils are blown so wide you'd think he'd taken drugs. his face is flushed, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead.
♡ big brother satoru, who removes his hands from your hips, slips his cock out of you for only a second, and manhandles you so that you're on your side. he throws your leg back over his shoulder before slipping right back in and this time, you're seeing stars as he pounds into you over and over with no mercy. his hand rests on your hip, still guiding you down on his cock and he pistons into you at a breakneck pace. you can't help the screams that spill from your lips as he fucks you into oblivion. "please! satoru, please, please don't stop! 's so good! please, your cock is so good!" and satoru can see it in your eyes - you're a goner. you're so fucked-out, you can barely think. the only thing you can think of is another orgasm being ripped from you. the only thing you can think of is your brother wrapping his hand around your pretty little throat and ramming you over and over. so, you take matters into your own hands. you frantically reach for his hand that's on your hip, bringing it to your throat, and encouraging him to press down. the look in his eyes is one you'll never forget. sinister.
♡ big brother satoru, who, as he chokes you, realizes his perfect, sweet little sister truly has become a minx. he chokes you, cutting off your screams as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. your cunt pulses and spams around him as he bring you to yet another orgasm that he continues fucking you through. you try to move your hips away from him, but he simply chases you down. "nu-uh, don't run away from me, pretty girl." he leans down, his hand wrapping around your chin so that he can force you to look at him as he fucks into you. he's so close, so very close. and he wants to look into your eyes when he cums. "'m close, pretty, where do ya want it?" and you can barely think. you can barely see, but you're being entranced by the beautiful blue eyes in front of you. you weren't lucky enough to get those eyes. maybe your kids would. "i-inside! wan' you to cum inside, please, satoru, please!" and satoru, momentarily shocked, gathers himself quickly as his cock twitches furiously and balls begin to tighten. "inside, huh? i'll take responsibility, then." and satoru, hand wrapped around your pretty throat, cums hard, his orgasm hitting him like a bolt of lightning. every bit of breath in his lungs escapes as he spills everything he has into you.
♡ big brother satoru, who takes such good care of you afterward. your legs are still shaking, unable to stand on your own two feet, satoru brings you everything you could want. water, food, a washcloth, and a towel. he carefully cleans you, demanding you simply lay back and let him do the work since he "wrecked" you. you don't even argue with his cocky praise of himself. he did, in fact, wreck you. your mind is blank for nearly an hour after your last orgasm. so, this was the power of the great satoru gojo. "so, d'ya learn anything?" he asks. you take a deep breath, eyes staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. "i learned a lot. i learned that getting head is one of the greatest gifts on earth." satoru makes a sour face. "only from me." and then his expression turns into one of shock. "wait! your boyfriend never ate you out?" you shake your head in denial and satoru gasps, as if offended. "what a fucking loser. if i died with you riding my face, i'd die a happy man." you look over and him and giggle. "oh, shut up. it can't be that good." satoru clucks his tongue. "nu-uh, sis, it really was that good. my feedback for you is that: i think there are a lot more things i could teach you. though, you seem to be all in-the-know on the whole choking front. didn't know you were already kind of freaked-out."
♡ big brother satoru, who sees more than a glimpse of hope when you give him feedback on his own performance. "ya know, i think next time, you should really pull out the camera. a real athlete always watches their footage back." and satoru gives no argument.
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initforthethrill · 1 month ago
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okay so um i got carried away with this bot i was working on from a random thought that flit through my head of cate riding you while you're trying to play video games so here have this blurb and also an accompanying bot so you can fuck cate left right upside down and sideways as often as you please! i know i sure will <3
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combo move aka distracting girlfriend!cate riding you into elder scrolls oblivion... tw: girlcock, g!p user, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, dickriding, non-explicit oral, orgasm control/denial, daddy!user, brat!cate, submissive!user, dominant!cate, bottom!user, top!cate, very light degradation (barely classifies tbh) 4k+ words
It started with a tongue click.
Sharp. Deliberate. Echoing slightly off the cement walls of your dorm, like the warning shot of a girl who had been very patient and was now preparing to wage war.
You, predictably, didn’t flinch.
You were planted on the chair in front of your monitor, legs stretched long in that cocky sprawl you always did while zoning in. One arm hooked lazily over your knee. The other tightly wrapped around a controller. And your stupidly sexy jaw—clenched. Twitching. Focused.
Cate, meanwhile, was going insane.
She’d shown up half an hour ago. Kissed you hello. Kissed you again, just to be sure. And then got unceremoniously waved toward the bed with a mumbled, “Just gotta beat this boss first, baby, promise.”
That was twenty-seven minutes ago.
And now? Now Cate was straddling the edge of the mattress in a tiny little sweater that slid off one shoulder, a tennis skirt, and nothing underneath. Lip gloss applied. Hair curled. Bra tossed in your laundry hamper on purpose. And still—still—nothing.
You just sat there. Twitching. Grunting. Whisper-cursing under your breath.
Cate sighed dramatically. Loud enough to register. Still nothing.
Oh. Okay. That’s how it’s gonna be?
Fine.
She slid off the bed without a word, but this time she didn’t tiptoe. This time her steps were purposeful—clicky even, despite her socks. Like she wanted you to hear her coming. Wanted you to know a storm was building behind you. And when she reached the gaming chair you were currently sunk into?
She didn’t ask. She climbed.
One leg on either side of your thighs. A slow, dragging motion that made her skirt ride way too high and her intentions clear.
You froze. “Cate—”
“Nope,” she said sweetly, smiling down at you with all the warmth of a knife in a silk glove. “You said ten minutes. And then you said five. You lied to me.”
“Baby, it’s a boss fight, I can’t pause—"
Cate planted herself fully in your lap. Ground her hips down. Gave you the most sickeningly sweet smile she could muster. “Okay. Then multitask.”
Your controller hit the floor like it had burned you.
“Jesus Christ, Cate—”
“What?” she said, blinking, as if she were innocent. As if she wasn’t currently shifting on top of you with practiced intent, thighs squeezing your waist like a trap. “Am I in your way?”
You gripped her hips like you were bracing for an earthquake. “You’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”
“Not my fault you’re easy,” Cate chirped.
“I am not easy.”
Cate rolled her hips again—slow, taunting. “Really? 'Cause your dick says otherwise.”
You let out a strangled sound. One of your hands twitched. Cate grinned.
“Oh,” she purred. “There it is.”
“You’re evil.”
“You’re predictable.”
“You’re in trouble.”
Cate’s lashes fluttered. “Promise?”
You surged up like a wave. Mouth on hers, hands on her ass, game abandoned, pride in shambles.
And Cate? Cate just moaned into the kiss, smug as sin, victorious as hell.
That boss fight never stood a chance. Not when you kissed like you were trying to shut her up. Like if you pressed hard enough, deep enough, Cate might forget the petty little vengeance plot she’d just enacted.
Except—it only made her worse.
Cate moaned into it, smug and satisfied, hands tangling in your hair, tugging hard enough to earn a low groan from your chest. She felt it—every shift, every twitch. The way your whole body coiled beneath hers, the growing heat pressed between you, your fingers digging crescents into Cate’s thighs like you weren’t sure if you wanted to grip harder or fall apart entirely.
The headset still dangled from the desk, the controller long forgotten on the floor. And you—usually so cool, so cocky, so in control—were a wreck already. Mouth open, breathing ragged, like Cate had thrown off your entire equilibrium by simply existing on top of you.
Cate leaned back just enough to watch you. Flushed, panting, eyes glassy with want.
“You okay, daddy?” she teased, voice syrupy and deadly, her hips giving one more teasing grind.
Your head dropped back against the chair. “I hate you.”
Cate’s lips curled. “Liar.”
And then she leaned in again, this time slow and cruel, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Her hands slipped beneath the hem of the beat-up t-shirt you always wore to game in—worn soft and a little too thin—her palms flattening over bare skin.
You hissed.
“God, you’re warm,” Cate whispered, more to herself than anything. Her voice was reverent now, almost dazed. “You get like this every time I touch you.”
You barely manage a response. Just one syllable, broken in half: “Cate—”
Cate smiled against your throat. “I know.”
She pulled back just far enough to hook her fingers into the waistband of your boxers. “Wanna take care of you,” she said simply. “Wanna make you forget that stupid game even exists.”
And then she sank down. Off her lap. To her knees.
You actually choked. Your hand shooting out like you were going to stop her, but Cate just batted it away with a smirk.
“Hands off. You’re in timeout,” she whispered, wicked and delighted. “Maybe next time you won’t ignore me for forty fucking minutes, yeah?”
Your response was mostly a gasp. And then a groan. And then a broken curse as Cate’s hands dragged your boxers down and her mouth followed, slow and lethal.
She didn’t rush. She never did.
She made you watch. Made you feel it. Made you fall apart one twitch, one shiver, one helpless please at a time until Cate had you trembling—practically begging—trying not to cry.
And when Cate finally came back up, crawling right back into your lap like a girl who had earned her crown?
You looked dazed. Stunned. Wrecked.
Cate tucked her fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze up. “Still think you can beat me?” she murmured.
You blinked once. Twice. Glanced briefly over to the screen like it might have an answer for you. “I haven’t even respawned yet.”
Cate laughed—gorgeous, triumphant. “You don’t get to.”
And then you were kissing her again, hands sliding beneath her sweater, pulling her closer like you’d die if you weren’t touching her. Like your only mission now was Cate Dunlap.
The game was over.
Cate had won.
But she was more than happy to let you try for a rematch.
You’d barely even caught your breath. Still slumped back in the chair, legs spread wide, eyes half-lidded like you’d been steamrolled by a freight train named Cate Dunlap. Mouth hung open just enough to show the ghost of a moan that hadn’t quite made it out. You looked flushed, trembling, totally undone.
It was gorgeous.
Cate, straddling your lap once more, wiped her mouth delicately with the back of her hand. Then she leaned in, teeth brushing your jaw like a threat wrapped in velvet.
“You good?” she whispered, smug and devastating.
You exhaled like you were barely alive. “You’re a menace.”
Cate giggled. “And you’re hard again.”
She felt it—pressed right against her through the flimsy cotton of her own panties. You twitched beneath her, trying to shift, to rock up into the friction you clearly desperately needed, but Cate just pressed down harder with her thighs, keeping you pinned.
“Oh, no,” she crooned. “You don’t get to just rut into me, baby. You’ve got to ask.”
You groaned, head tipping back.
Cate dragged her nails down your chest, slow and possessive. “Come on,” she whispered, voice low and sugary. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to stop fucking with me,” You grit out, hips jerking up on instinct.
Cate just laughed. “Then you shouldn’t have ignored me.”
And then—slowly, deliberately—she shifted. Pulled her underwear aside with one hand, slick and ready, and then sank down onto your cock with the kind of desperate ease that made both of you gasp.
You let out something between a curse and a sob.
Cate stilled, fully seated, her palms planted on your chest. Her head fell forward, blonde hair tumbling between you. “Jesus,” she breathed.
You looked wrecked. Fully ruined. “Cate—”
“Don’t. Move.” She ground down slowly, just once, and your whole body convulsed. “You get to sit there and take it. You wanted to act like your stupid game was more important than me? Fine. Then you don’t get to fuck me.”
Her voice dropped an octave. “I fuck you.”
And then she moved.
Slow at first. Torturous. A punishing drag, a perfect angle. Riding you in long, grinding rolls, thighs flexing, hair sticking to her collarbones with sweat. She was soaking, obscene, relentless. Your hands were planted helplessly on the chair arms, knuckles white, jaw clenched like you were fighting a losing war.
Which, of course, you were.
Cate leaned forward, bit your lip, moaned into your ear like a death sentence. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say.”
You whined. Actually whined.
“Oh my god,” Cate panted, speeding up now, chasing something deep and vicious. “You’re seriously gonna cum from me riding you in a chair, huh? Not even a bed, not even my mouth. Just this pathetic little gaming throne you love so much.”
You were gasping now. Whispering her name like a prayer. Your whole body trembling like you didn’t know what to do with the pleasure wrecking through you.
Cate was close. She could feel it building—tight, sharp, perfect. Her hands fisted in your shirt, eyes fluttering shut. “Now,” she breathed.
And you snapped.
Thrust up so hard the chair creaked, one arm locking around Cate’s waist like you couldn’t bear for her to leave, couldn’t even remember the rules. You came hard, violently, buried deep and shuddering beneath her, and Cate followed right after—gasping, shaking, whimpering into your shoulder as she fell apart.
The two of you didn’t move for a long time.
Just heaving breaths. Sweat. Shaking thighs and ruined pride.
Eventually, Cate peeled her forehead off your shoulder and looked at you—flushed, twitching, dazed.
The chair let out one last groan.
Cate grinned. “Think I broke your KD ratio and your pelvis.”
You huffed a laugh. “Think you broke my soul.”
Cate kissed you. “Good.”
Then she padded across the room like nothing had happened.
Just hopped off your lap, pressed a kiss to your cheek—so sweet it was sarcastic—and wandered barefoot to the corner where you kept her snack stash, humming some aimless little tune under her breath as she bent down to open the drawer.
You hadn’t moved.
Couldn’t, probably.
Still slouched in that poor, overworked chair, legs sprawled, head tilted back like you’d just survived a religious experience. Your shirt was bunched halfway up your chest. Boxers still down around your thighs, cock twitching helplessly against your stomach as you softened. Your soul was hanging somewhere above your head, trying to re-enter your body.
And Cate?
Cate was chewing a Twizzler.
“Jesus Christ,” You rasped, finally. Voice wrecked. “What the fuck just happened to me.”
Cate turned, all dewy cheeks and kiss-bruised lips, and smiled like she didn’t already know. “You lost,” she said simply.
You made a sound that could only be described as murderous longing. “I don’t even remember what game I was playing.”
“Exactly.” She twirled the candy between two fingers. “Your controller died…and so did your dignity.”
Your head thunked back against the chair. Utterly defeated.
Cate waltzed closer, absolutely infuriating in that tiny sweater and the fact that she wasn’t even winded. “You good, daddy?” she cooed innocently, leaning down just enough to kiss the tip of your nose.
You twitched. Cock and all.
Cate grinned. “What? You looked like you needed a title check.”
You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “You are the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Cate plopped herself sideways in your lap again, ignoring the grunt of overstimulation you tried and failed to hide. “You love it.”
You didn’t argue.
Couldn’t.
Not when Cate was dragging a lazy finger along your chest, licking sugar off her bottom lip, and absolutely glowing from the satisfaction of bringing a whole-ass crime fighter to her knees using nothing but thighs, smugness, and the occasional perfectly-placed "daddy."
Cate leaned in, brushing her lips against your ear. “You know what the best part is?” she whispered.
You didn’t answer. Just tilted your head, curious but barely breathing.
Cate’s smile was all teeth. “I’m still not wearing panties.”
Your whole body tensed.
And Cate? Cate took another bite of her Twizzler and beamed like the little menace she was. “Better boot up that game again, babe,” she said sweetly, “’Cause next round? I’m playing support.”
The controller felt foreign in her hands.
Not because she didn’t know how to play—Cate was surprisingly decent at shooters, actually—but because her brain was still syrupy with orgasm glow and triumph, and her thighs were still wrapped around the twitching mess of a person who used to be you.
“Okay,” she said breezily, shifting her hips just enough to make you whimper beneath her. “So this is jump, this is aim, and this one makes you do the little roll thing, right?”
Your breath was ragged. “Cate—”
“Shhh, daddy,” she purred, rocking again. The slide of her still-wet cunt over your dick made you both shiver. “I’m just trying to help. Support, remember?”
Your hands clenched the sides of the chair like you were trying not to die.
Cate giggled—delighted, devious—and steered her character into what appeared to be live gunfire. “Oops. Did I do that?”
A soft buzz of failure lit up the screen. She died instantly.
You groaned. “You did that on purpose.”
“I’m new,” Cate said sweetly, bouncing once—just once—but it was enough to make you gasp like you’d been punched. “Be nice to me.”
“You’re not new,” You gritted out, face flushed, eyes darting between her and the monitor like you weren't sure where to look. “You’re evil, Dunlap.”
Cate hummed, wriggling a little on your lap, pretending to adjust her grip on the controller but very obviously not helping. “You love it.”
Another bounce.
Another involuntary twitch from your dick, still half-hard and hopeless beneath her.
She could feel you—sensitive, overspent, barely clinging to sanity. And every slight movement she made, every little wiggle or shift or stretch sent a lightning bolt of friction through the both of you.
“Cate,” you gasped, hands hovering like you wanted to grab her hips again but didn’t dare.
“Mm?”
“I can’t—” You choked. “I can’t focus like this.”
“Oh no,” she whispered, mock-sympathetic. “Is my soaking wet pussy on your very overstimulated dick distracting you from your precious little video game?”
Your eyes rolled back.
Cate leaned back, head tilted to the side, voice soft and merciless. “You let me rot for forty minutes while you hunted pixelated bad guys, baby. I’m just evening the score.”
You shuddered beneath her. Whole body rigid, muscles trembling, trying so hard not to rut up into her.
Cate nipped your lip before returning her attention to the game, “Touch me and you lose.”
You groaned, head thudding back against the chair.
And Cate?
Cate just smiled. Innocent. Vicious. Heavenly.
She guided her character back into the game, fingers dancing lazily over the controls. “Oops,” she said again, as her avatar immediately tripped a landmine and exploded.
She looked back at you, batting her lashes. “Maybe you should take over.”
You met her gaze—sweaty, dazed, feral.
And then growled, “Get your fucking hands off my controller.”
Cate squealed, delighted, as you grabbed her hips like a woman possessed.
Game time was over.
She didn’t move.
Not even when your hands closed around her hips like you were about to do something about it. Not even when your fingers dug in, sharp enough to bruise, desperate enough to say please, I can’t take much more.
Cate just smiled down at you. “No touching, remember?”
Your jaw clenched. “I remember.”
Cate turned around, leaning in until your noses brushed, lips barely ghosting across your cheek. “Then be good.”
She gave one slow, sinful roll of her hips. Just to prove who was still in charge.
You whimpered, hands dropping to the chair arms again—shaking with restraint, poor girl—and Cate cooed like she was proud of you. “That’s it. Good girl.”
That did something. Cate felt the twitch beneath her, felt your whole body jolt like your brain short-circuited.
“Oh,” Cate breathed. “You like that, huh?”
You refused to answer.
So Cate rocked again. A little faster this time. A little filthier. Just enough to press all the way down and let the slick sound of it echo in the still air of the room.
Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut.
And Cate just kept going.
Slow. Deliberate. Downright evil.
She wasn’t riding you for friction. She was riding you for control. For the pleasure of watching you—sharp-tongued, cocky, always two steps ahead—sit there absolutely wrecked, fists clenched, thighs trembling, face flushed with the kind of desperation Cate had designed.
“Fuck,” you gasped, biting your lip until it went white. “I—Cate—please—”
“Please what?” Cate teased, breath warm against your throat. “Please let you cum? Please let you touch me? Please let your stupid gamer chair survive this night?”
You only managed a strangled noise somewhere between a sob and a growl.
Cate giggled. “You’re twitching so much, baby. You gonna cum just like this? No help? Just me—wet and slow and mean on your lap?”
Your voice came out broken. “You’re so fucking—”
“Hot?” Cate offered, bouncing once, harder, dragging her nails down the back of your neck. “Cruel? Gorgeous?”
“All of it,” you gasped.
Cate moaned softly. “Say it.”
“You’re hot. You’re cruel. You’re—fuck, Cate, I’m gonna cum—”
“No,” she said firmly, sinking down onto your cock and freezing in place. “Not until I say so.”
You actually cried out this time, shivering beneath her like you’d been punched in the stomach by God.
Cate cupped your jaw. “One more round,” she whispered. “And then I’ll let you cum.”
You looked up at her like she was the devil in pink lip gloss. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Cate kissed her nose. “At least you’ll die happy.”
She could feel it in your thighs—how tight they were beneath her. How hard you were clenching, trying to keep from moving, from thrusting, from doing anything that would push Cate toward mercy she had no intention of offering yet.
“Look at you,” Cate purred, fingers trailing up the flushed column of your throat. “You wanna cum so bad.”
Your breath hitched. Your lashes fluttered. You were vibrating with need.
Cate rolled her hips again—slow, cruel, letting herself grind down with the kind of friction that made you both shudder. She was soaked. Still pulsing from her own orgasm earlier. And she could feel you inside her, still twitching, still far too sensitive, still leaking and desperate and helpless.
And Cate? Cate was euphoric.
She rocked again. “That one doesn’t count,” she whispered. “Wasn’t deep enough.”
You whimpered—actually whimpered—and Cate bit her lip to keep from grinning too hard.
She dragged her fingers down your stomach, over the soft dip of your navel, then back up beneath your shirt to trace lazy circles over your ribs.
“Poor baby,” she crooned. “Did you think I was just gonna let you cum after one round? After leaving me to suffer while you flirted with your kill count?”
“I wasn’t—fuck, Cate—please—”
“You were ignoring me.” Her voice sharpened, syrup turned to steel. “You knew how badly I wanted you. And you let me sit there soaking for you. All worked up. All patient. And you gave your game more attention than me.”
Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”
Cate’s smile returned—sweet and wicked. “I know you are.”
She lifted herself slightly, slow and trembling, then slammed back down.
You screamed.
Your whole body bucked, every muscle seizing up as you jerked against the chair—only barely resisting the urge to grab her, to thrust up, to take something back. But you didn’t. You’re being good. Obedient. Wrecked.
Cate moaned softly, closing her eyes, starting to move again in earnest now—still slow, but deeper, more purposeful. Each roll of her hips dragged over the thick, aching head of your cock, pulling sounds out of you that belonged in confessionals.
Cate grinned through it. “That’s it,” she whispered. “Just like that. Take it, daddy.”
You sobbed. Face blotchy, jaw slack, eyes wide and ruined. Your thighs trembled under Cate’s weight.
“I can’t,” you gasped.
“You can,” Cate whispered, curling her fingers into your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. “Just a little bit more.”
And then she picked up the pace.
Harder. Sloppier. Cate was gasping now too, sweat sticking to her chest, hair clinging to her shoulders. The chair creaked under them like it was seconds from collapse. But Cate didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
She was so close. The angle was perfect. Your thighs were flexing helplessly beneath her, and she could feel every twitch, every involuntary pulse, and God—Cate didn’t even know if she was making sense anymore.
“Cum with me,” she whispered, breath stuttering. “Come on, baby. Now.”
And you did.
With a broken, strangled moan that cracked right through your chest, you came—hard, deeper than before, grabbing the arms of the chair like you might fly off it otherwise. Cate followed a heartbeat later, gasping your name like a prayer and collapsing forward, chest pressed to yours, shaking.
You sat like that for a long moment.
Breathing. Sweating. Ruined.
Cate could feel the mess between you. The warmth. The exhaustion.
She finally lifted her head, blinked down at your dazed, destroyed face.
“You okay?” she whispered, brushing sweaty bangs out of her eyes.
You let out a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Cate kissed her softly, smiling. Proud.
The room was quiet again.
The game was still paused—some explosion frozen mid-frame on the screen—but neither of them had the energy to care. Cate was curled into your chest now, your limbs tangled together, the gaming chair reclined as far as it would go without giving up and dying completely.
She could feel the rhythm of your breathing, the slow thud of your heart against her cheek. Still a little fast. Still recovering.
Cate smiled, tracing lazy patterns along the bare skin of your stomach, her nails featherlight. “You did so good,” she whispered.
You didn’t respond right away. Just wrapped an arm around her waist tighter, like you didn’t want to risk her floating away.
Cate pressed a kiss to your chest. Then another, just beneath your collarbone. “Took everything I gave you like such a good girl.”
That got her a soft noise—half whimper, half sigh.
Cate looked up. “Hey.” Her voice gentled. “You okay?”
You nodded, just barely. Your voice was gravel-soft. “I’m so in love with you, it’s disgusting.”
Cate giggled, shifting up to kiss your jaw. “Good. You better be.”
She nestled back down, lips still curved, fingers still exploring. “I like you like this,” she murmured. “All floaty and pink-cheeked and ruined. Letting me take care of you.”
You hummed low in your throat, eyes fluttering shut again.
Cate tilted her head. “You’re not falling asleep in this stupid chair.”
“M’tired,” you mumbled.
“So am I,” Cate whispered, dragging a fingertip over the dip of your hip. “But I still managed to destroy you, so...up we go.”
You groaned. “Carry me?”
Cate barked a laugh. “You’re twice my size.”
“You’re God,” you countered.
Cate kissed you again, this time slow and tender. “Fine. But you owe me snacks.”
Somehow, with minimal grace and a lot of laughter, you got yourselves upright and stumbled into bed—naked, messy, sore in all the best ways. Cate tugged the blanket over the both of you, curled herself into your side, and kissed the tip of your nose like a reward.
She could feel your smile against her temple.Cate whispered, “You really are the best toy I’ve ever owned.”
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♡ | final boss
195 notes · View notes
watashijeon · 2 years ago
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Mon Ange. | KTH
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listen while reading — Is there someone else The Weeknd
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— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —
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You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.
Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.
"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.
“I have to tell you something.”
Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.
He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.
"I think we should end our arrangement."
Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?
Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.
You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.
He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.
“Well, go on then.”
Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.
“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.
“I do, bye.”
He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.
Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.
But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?
“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.
And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.
How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.
You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.
The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.
He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.
He pauses.
Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.
He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.
In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.
Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.
You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.
Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.
Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.
He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.
Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.
Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.
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It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.
Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.
He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.
Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.
Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.
The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.
“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”
It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.
“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”
Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?
“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”
“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.
“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”
“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.
Ping
If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.
It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.
“What is this all for?”
His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”
“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”
Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.
He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.
So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.
He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.
“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”
“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”
He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.
“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”
Click.
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He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.
Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.
“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.
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It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.
Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.
Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.
He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.
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15 minutes before
It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.
He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.
“Tae..?”
Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.
You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.
“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.
Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.
It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.
Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.
That helped some.
Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.
Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.
It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.
You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”
God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.
He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.
Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.
It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.
But why did he want to stay selfishly so.
Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..
Corny and sappy he thinks.
He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.
Present
All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.
Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.
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It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.
You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.
You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.
“Hello?”
“Hmmmhmm, hello.”
There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.
“Yes, Taehyung?”
There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.
“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.
Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.
Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.
You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.
Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.
But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.
All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.
He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.
You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.
Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.
You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.
“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”
His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.
You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”
It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.
He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”
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It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.
It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.
You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”
You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”
Silence, absolutely nothing back.
“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”
Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.
Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.
He won’t comment on it properly, never does.
“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.
“What? Stop mumbling.”
He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.
“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.
That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.
The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.
Are you going to do well without me?
Are we ever going to be okay?
Will we ever be fine?
You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.
It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.
Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.
Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.
You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.
You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.
It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.
Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.
You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.
But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.
You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.
You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.
“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.
You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.
But why are you still laying here.. melting away.
He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.
Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.
His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.
"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.
"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.
Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.
You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.
He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.
"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”
"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.
"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."
You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.
He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.
He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.
Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.
Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.
It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.
Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.
Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.
You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.
Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.
So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.
“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”
He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.
"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.
The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.
Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”
Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.
Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.
He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”
Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.
“So perfect, all for me, hm.”
You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.
“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.
“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”
You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.
The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."
She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.
Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.
“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.
He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”
Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.
"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”
“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”
“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.
feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.
“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”
“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.
Back and forth, back and forth.
An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.
He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.
"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."
His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.
“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”
“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.
The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.
You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.
“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.
Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.
Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.
The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.
He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.
"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.
“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.
“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.
He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.
You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’
He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.
“Y-you, you, fuck!”
It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.
Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.
“Again.”
You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.
He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.
“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.
“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.
Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."
"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."
"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."
"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"
Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.
"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."
Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.
"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.
At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.
The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.
"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”
He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.
“Want to show this cunt off to the world."
“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.
“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.
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“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.
He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.
It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.
You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.
That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.
Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.
Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”
Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.
“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”
You don’t answer.
“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.
The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.
It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.
While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.
You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.
Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.
Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.
Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.
It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.
“Tae..? You there?”
He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.
“Do you know what you are?”
You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”
It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.
“You’re my girl.”
You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.
“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”
He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.
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porcalinecunt · 3 months ago
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘𝐁!𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒.𝐂𝐎𝐌
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💗 ᯓ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nothin’ here! just tr boys and their favorite porn genres!
⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 ♡
ྀི . ° . cw — pornography (duh!) , masterbation , edging , cumshots , sound kink (?) , tiddy + ass fixation to a certain degree , reader is mentioned , bxb , bi!baji , bi!kazutora , bdsm (hanma) , kazutora is nasty ; ;
[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ ] is this based off of an already existing draft? maybe . . . <3
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@ BAJI KEISUKE ྀི !
AMATEUR ♡
☆ ! — nothing wrong with simple homemade porn! if anything, there’s something about seeing couples create their own sextapes for the world to see that gets baji’s dick harder then a rock. maybe it’s seeing the submissive themself in full glory regardless of the shitty quality, being pumped full of cock as the camera closes up on their breasts, ass or face as they let out moans so loud that it sometimes startled baji to turn the volume down. best part? the verity of course! some days he wants to see a girl’s boobs be slapped around by her man, others he’ll watch a guy be face fucked by a dude twice his size. maybe he’ll finally cum at a car sex video where the girl rides a cock until she squirts all over the camera. during the post nut clarity, his mind wanders as he imagines himself possibly making his own tape with someone who’s willing and pretty enough for the show, shouldn’t be hard at all! he’d smirk as he reached for his phone and presses your number . . .
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@ HANMA SHUJI ྀི !
BDSM ♡
☆ ! — are we shocked? this is shuji hanma we are talking about! same guy who canonically knocks out teeth for fun! of course he’d enjoy a little bondage with some impact play and girls in ball gags the moment his cock gives him a problem. he’d run his long fingers down his longer dick to videos of girls tied up in vulnerable positions, either being harshly fucked or edged to oblivion. if he feels extra freaky, he’s edge himself along with the submissive until it starts to hurt. don’t get him started on pictures alone, close up shots of bruised up asses and breasts pushed together thanks to the rope or silk that wrapped her body in an intricate pattern. to hanma, it was fucking art. how he’s wish he’d have a girlfriend to tie up like a doll, touching and fondling wherever he pleases until she comes undone by his bare hands alone. eventually, he’d get hard again and click on another link with an alluring title . . .
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@ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA ྀི !
BOY X BOY ♡
☆ ! — now . . . you cannot look at me straight in the eye and say kazutora wouldn’t fold with not one but three of the hottest men in tr. of course he’d enjoy some bxb action! he doesn’t care what kind of men are on screen, though, he gets off harder to videos of pretty boys jerking each other off and tongue fucking each other’s mouths as their pretty moans made kazutora’s cock twitch. it didn’t matter what the kink was, from homemade to hardcore, if it had two cute guys milking each other dry then he was satisfied! he can’t even stop at videos online, with his floor littered with magazines of naked men and his shelf filled with explicit mangas that he hides away from his friends. best part? when he cums, he cums hard. he lost count how many times he came all over his phone, his magazines and his mangas until they were all sticky. no, he wouldn’t clean them up because he’s disgusting! unfortunately for his mates when they need his phone for a call . . .
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© porcalinecunt 🎀 ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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milkteabinniechan · 11 months ago
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HIII i was wondering if you could do a smut with jeongin eating reader out after they get home from a stressful day at work?? thank you<3
♡Taste - Jeongin
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MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
How's that feel?
Jeongin lifted his head from between your legs, his mouth shining and wet. He loved this part. This perfect middle moment. Your head pressed back into the pillow. Your eyes rolled back and half-lidded. Blissed out. Floating on a high.
You let out a soft whimper followed by a good. Jeongin smiled widely and resumed the position. He let his head sink back down between your legs. He put his tongue again, brushing it lightly, teasingly, against your most sensitive areas. He moved with a precision only present in a man that knew exactly what he was doing. Something about the taste of you mixed with the erotic noises you let out made Jeongin’s mind click into a different mode. Like a switch had been flipped and the sweet, innocent eyes he usually looked at you with were gone. He was a man starving. Lapping and tasting you with a voracious intensity.
Your thighs twitched, squeezing his face periodically. The events of the day swiftly melting away like waves crashing onto the shore. Each new flurry of ecstacy washing away like sand, being pulled into salty ocean water. Working days had become working nights and the tension and stress in your shoulders was becoming apparent and overwhelming. You felt like you couldn't breathe. Like the walls of your once comforting apartment were beginning to close in on you.
Jeongin was like a beacon on a storm. Seeing the stress you carried and was determined to make you feel so good that you had absolutely no choice but to let the pressure and strain of work fade away into oblivion.
“....tastes so good.” Jeongin mumbled into your warm skin.
He moved his tongue a little faster now, eager to pull more sounds from you. His pink tongue flicked and swirled around your clit, inching it further out from between your lips. His lips wrapped around the swollen bundle of nerves as he sucked and pulled with a rhythmical pace that caused your breath to hitch and freeze in your throat.
"I wanna hear you. I know you can be louder than that. Come on..."
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fluffytriceratops · 3 months ago
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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 [𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑]
notes: fucking finally. here you guys go. here's your meal. [i still have so many requests to do send help-] 2003 is one of my fave ver if not my fave ver bcuz this is the ver i grew up on. this and the 90's live action movies. so i really need to write more with them. raph in particular is so nostalgic to me bcuz he was my fave as a wee babe. 
warnings: nsfw mentions/smut, mature language,
click here to read donnie's ver. [will be adding the others later too]
tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mystics-tmnt-blog @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover  @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1 @dreamstormdragon @magickdream-creations @definitely-canon @misty-angerose @karma-reader @muamazon4 @akesdraws-blog @battydora @kate03-27
[if i've forgotten anyone i'm so sorry please comment or dm me and let me know and i'll add you right away so i don't forget in the future!]
if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!
---
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- loves to edge you to oblivion. will make you beg for release. 
- loves to spank your ass. but he won't hit you anywhere else, he doesn't want to actually hurt you. but he likes to smack your ass. sometimes outta nowhere too, so be careful. 
- please drink and watch wrestling with him. he'll love you forever. cracking a cold beer and watching wrestling is probably one of his favorite things. does it with casey a lot. but would def prefer to do it with you. 
- if you actually take him to a match? marriage on sight-
- secretly likes romance/romcoms but won't admit it. does get heated when he watches them though. "why the fuck would he do that?" & "this is stupid, they should just be together. why bother being friends with benefits?" & "BUT THEY BOTH LOVE EACH OTHER THIS IS CRAP-" etc. 
- covers you in hickies. doesn't care if anyone sees. in facts he wants them to. 
- if you bitch to him about it after? he'll just shrug and smirk. 
- definitely calls you princess and good girl. 
- takes you for rides on his motorcycle. will also fuck you on it-
- snores really loudly. you might need earplugs. but he loves to cuddle. likes you to sleep on top of him. or to have his arm thrown around you. 
- leggings are his kryptonite. he's an ass man so if you show it off for him, expect some good loving. also loves thongs. loves to see the band of your panties/thongs pulled up and on display. 
- will literally tear off your clothes if you let him. he finds it hot. 
- his brooklyn accent is delightful and you adore it and he KNOWS you do. so he'll 100% tease you with it. 
- makes you beg for his cock. fingers you into oblivion first. will have you coming multiple times before he gives it to you. 
- LOVES to make it known how pretty he finds you. he's always complimenting you during sex. likes to call you pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, etc. "that's it gorgeous, takin' it so good for me-" etc. [askdhsgh-]
- sometimes will goes slow to tease you and so he can really feel you. but he'll eventually get tired of it and will pick up the pace. if he's really fired up, he goes fast and hard. 
- aftercare is always really sweet though. and he always feels a bit bad if he hurts you. even if you say it's okay. in the moment he can get a little rough. and while he enjoys it, he also feels guilty if he see's bruises on you from his fingers or if you're extra sore later. he'll draw you a bath, his tone will get soft. he'll massage you. he really is super sweet after. 
- he's always scared he's going to accidentally hurt you or take things too far. it's a big fear of his. you usually have to reassure him a lot. 
- he's insecure. and he isn't good with words or emotions. please be patient with him. he'll apologize eventually after arguments, but it may take him some time. he's better with actions rather than words. might not actually say "i'm sorry" but he'll show it in other ways. 
- his love languages are physical touch and quality time. 
- loves it when you wear his color. (red) he thinks its really sexy on you and to him it's kinda like showing others that you're his and it's a big turn on for him. 
- red lingerie will kill him. ;)
- will wear any marks you leave behind on him with pride. 
- has a bottle of your perfume/body spray in his room. likes to smell you on his things. esp if you're away and he hasn't seen you in a while. 
- also probably has a sweater or something of yours in his room. your presence and scent calms him. you usually switch them out for him once your scent starts to wear off. or he'll casually just stroll into your room and trade one item for another hehe. 
- goes to you/your place when he needs a break or he has a fight with one of his brothers. rants to you about leo often. might get upset if you take leo's side, esp if the fight is very recent and he hasn't had a chance to fully cool off yet. choose your words wisely during this time as he might just storm off or say something he doesn't mean and will regret later. 
- would love to spar/train/work out with you. 
- if that's not your cup of tea, he would also love it if you just watched him do so. he likes to spend time with you, even if you're not really doing anything. and he just likes to have your eyes on him/your attention. 
- i believe any of the turtles would be with any body shape, but i also believe that raph esp would ADORE a plus size/chubby/curvy baddie. more to love in his eyes. loves to feel your curves. and he could 100% lift you and likes to as well. always has his hands on you. can't get enough. 
- short king in the early seasons but he does get a growth spurt and grows taller in the mid and later ones. if you knew him before then, you love to tease him about his height. 
- lots of vacations to casey's farm house. you can't really go on proper dates or go to places (since y'know he's a mutant turtle) so his best bro definitely hooks him up. weekends at the farm house have become something you both do quite often and always look forward to. especially when it's just the two of you. 
- in the beginning (God created the heavens and the earth- sorry lol) he probably asked casey/april for advice. in my head i see it as he starts to ask casey for advice and april overhears and casey is just giving him trash awful advice so she interjects and gives him actually good advice lol. 
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