#masochism doesn’t have to be sexual!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-4pphics · 1 year

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tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!”

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge.

You were… fucked.

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least.

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail.

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess.

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace.

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside.

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat.

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras.

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it.

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time.

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now.

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it.

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass.

And she keeps staring at you.

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz.

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk.

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you.

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again.

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes.

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit.

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.”

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill.

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart.

Ellie was brought up in isolation.

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company.

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen.

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while.

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it.

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing.

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder.

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple.

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous.

… But art didn’t.

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted.

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care.

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture.

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?!

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed.

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft.

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate.

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted.

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself.

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat.

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing.

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry.

And she couldn’t stop staring.

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car.

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again.

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck.

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing.

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive.

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing.

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again.

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever.

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings.

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering.

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments.

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god.

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection.

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine.

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl.

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive.

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it.

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship.

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

♡GIRLDICK♡

… Miller Enterprise.

Miller.

… Freckles.

…. What in the fuck.

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you.

It had been five days.

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets.

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels.

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark.

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance.

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you.

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it.

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off.

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you?

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her.

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs.

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip.

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous.

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not.

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time.

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it.

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion.

She hated it, she hated it.

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it.

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway.

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly.

Keep your grip tight when you strike!

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.”

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you.

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward.

Deep breath.

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass.

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?”

“I think you know how.”

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset.

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared.

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.”

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten.

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.”

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.”

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline.

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it.

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building.

… Funny.

“Press it.”

Her scowl hardened, “What?”

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?”

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you.

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.”

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk.

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed.

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.”

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight.

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage.

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums.

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket.

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration.

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did.

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?”

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.”

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness.

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened.

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction.

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting.

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered.

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room.

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you.

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?”

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered.

She hesitantly met your eyes.

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke.

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?”

She whined out a needy uh huuuh!

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist.

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth.

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth.

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth.

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer.

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone.

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.”

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?”

She nodded quickly.

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out.

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.”

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor.

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red.

“Um…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance.

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky.

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs.

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down.

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you.

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together.

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned.

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched.

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?”

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights.

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue.

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek.

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them.

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you.

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue.

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open.

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her.

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth.

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers.

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt.

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet.

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her.

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch.

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm.

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you.

“Like when I touch you there?”

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her.

“Fuck yes!”

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself.

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face.

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down.

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?”

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred.

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.”

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off.

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands.

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it.

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask.

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp.

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers.

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.”

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.”

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?”

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded.

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.”

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?”

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak.

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?”

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.”

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

You leaned back in her mom’s seat.

“Ellie.”

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides.

“Yes?”

“… C’mere.”

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you.

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater.

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.”

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor.

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?”

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you.

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently.

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.”

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.”

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down.

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants.

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered.

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth.

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard.

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back.

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers.

And then you slapped it. Hard.

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm.

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist.

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant.

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned.

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?”

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you.

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?”

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body.

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout.

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk.

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt.

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression.

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.”

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.”

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment.

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?”

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.”

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily.

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.”

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered.

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.”

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store.

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?”

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?”

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead.

“Yes, baby, you may.”

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours.

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight.

“Want me t’show you how?”

She nodded intensely.

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head.

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.”

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you.

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out.

“Lick me, then, honey.”

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there.

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out.

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks.

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes.

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls.

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit.

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you.

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room.

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!”

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin.

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck.

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass.

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning.

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK!

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint.

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!”

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.”

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail.

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk.

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you.

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.”

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you.

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle.

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her.

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth.

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag.

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard.

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position.

“Get up.”

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand.

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking.

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.”

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder.

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling.

“Taste like fucking honey.”

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation.

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness.

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.”

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back.

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench.

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her.

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?”

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?”

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name.

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling.

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her.

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again.

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit.

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder.

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again.

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy.

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up.

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it.

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips.

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria.

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still.

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust.

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear.

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her.

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you.

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips.

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence.

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down.

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you.

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.”

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?”

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.”

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes.

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?”

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache.

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart.

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you.

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes.

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest.

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.”

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction.

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing.

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.”

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked.

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you.

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench.

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?”

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips.

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft.

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires.

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her.

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you.

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you.

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think.

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately.

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick.

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate.

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close.

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again.

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock.

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you.

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her.

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state.

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you.

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back.

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face.

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic.

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily.

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you.

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle.

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments.

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her.

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?”

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.”

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in.

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault.

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive.

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob.

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right.

You were worthless. Held no value in this society.

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.”

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will.

Maybe in another life.

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit

don’t hate me too much?

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ceosdaughter!ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #lesbian #ellie williams x you #works 𖧧࣪

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

kind of stupid butttttttt- Koenig/Ghost with a cat girl reader? <3

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Girl

Warnings: Implied Smut/Sexual Content, Scary Dog Privilege, Pet Names, Sadism, Masochism, Scratching, Mention of Objectification (Consensual), Collar Mentioned, Female Reader.

Ghost

Absolute menace.

The first time he found out, he was shocked, to say the least, given how you managed to hide your ears and tail so well.

But he adjusts fairly quickly.

Sometimes, to get your attention or to get you to come to him when he can’t find you at home, he’ll shake your favourite box of cereal or call “Pspspspspsps–” until you come clamouring round the corner for your food.

He’s always twitching to touch your ears. Just finds them so cute and soft, and while he would never touch them without your permission, he’s dying to.

Sometimes you tease him and bonk your head against his side, give a tiny, fragile purr, and disappear into the midnight corners of the house.

But, when you can see Simon’s had a difficult day, you’ll lay in his lap and let him stroke your head, snuggling into him.

Though it’s not that you don’t like having your ears stroked; you just know that, if you were to let Simon do it, you’d never let him stop.

You’re always really warm and purr a lot, so Simon calls you his “Little engine”.

“‘Cause I’m driving my love van into your heart :3 !” – You say, absolutely oblivious to the cuteness overload you’ve just subjected him to.

Whenever you intentionally (or unintentionally) act cute, it sends Simon feral.

He definitely has a thing for pulling on your tail and making you cry.

Sadist to the max.

“Don’t mewl like that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, your tail in one hand and the lead to your collar in the other.

“Or I might just have to make you cry louder.”

Has a collar with a pendant engraved with the words ‘Property of Simon Riley’ made for you. But he only uses this on a few occasions.

He’d never make you wear it if you didn’t want to; he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s forcing you into a demeaning position.

His names for you vary, but the ones he uses in private are usually cat-related.

Kitty, Kitten (he uses this one unironically – he’s not chronically online so he doesn’t understand the implications), Kitty Girl.

He loves you soooo much, it hurts.

Scary dog privileges for the cat girl he bagged by being quiet and mysterious (unable to talk to you because he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen).

He genuinely cannot believe his luck; he thinks you must be some artefact sent from the heavens to compensate for the trainwreck his life has been up until he met you.

He’s never felt more alive than when he’s with you.

And he’ll break the minds, bodies and spirits of anyone who tries to take you away from him <3.

König

Has a tendency to talk to you like how any owner talks to their pets.

“Does my pretty little Princess want her dinner now ? Oh yes she does, oh yes she does !”

He doesn’t mean to, honestly.

But ever since he found out you were a cat girl, he just can’t help himself.

It’s second nature to him.

He also tends to treat you as if you’re much more fragile than you actually are, but that’s because he’s never seen you defend yourself (because you don’t have to. König’s immense size and stature has effectively made you the social equivalent of Chernobyl, in that everyone remains outside a fifty-metre radius of you when you’re with him).

If you sit in his lap, he’ll actually die.

And if you start purring–

He’s GONE.

The sound is enough to not only fry his brain, but send him to sleep.

Hence he cannot sleep without you. Which makes his deployment exceedingly difficult for him.

He looks for any and all excuses to pet you.

He’ll straight-up ask you if you want him to scratch behind your ears, and he’ll keep going until you start to feel raw and ask him to stop.

He loves you so much – he can’t bear to be without you for any period of time.

Which, given how you can be rather solitary in nature, leads you to seek out the most inopportune places to catch up on some sleep.

He’s found you curled up in the wash basket before now.

And on top of a bookshelf.

And rather than be offended, he was overwhelmed by how adorable you were, curled up into a ball of almost nothing.

Yes, he did take pictures. Yes, he does keep them under his pillow so he can look at them when you’re asleep or away.

When it comes to the saucy stuff, König tends to hold back. A lot.

He’s absolutely massive and he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially since there’s more of a risk of him doing so by standing on your tail or catching your ears.

But whatever fear he possesses vanishes when you show him how flexible you are. Which has led to some…interesting positions, to say the least.

Btw, he’s a massive masochist. Just a sucker for pain.

Definitely the type to intentionally push you over the edge so you’ll scratch his back.

You have much sharper nails than the average person, which means it’s easier for you to cut deeper without applying much force.

And König loves it.

He has a high pain tolerance so he can withstand the burning sensation of you dragging your nails down his back and get lost in the fact that you’re marking him as yours.

During moments like this, he calls you ‘Kitty’ more than your actual name.

Outside of the bedroom, it’s literally impossible for him to call you anything other than “(Y/N)-Baby, where’s my little (Y/N)-Pie ?”

And you always come running because you know there’s a big cuddle attached to the end of that pet name <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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sprout-fics · 11 months

Text

Adjustment

(Price x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 4k Tags: Dom/Sub, Dom Price, Sub Reader, BDSM, Non-sexual dominance, Impact play, Spanking, Masochism, Pain kink, Safe Sane Consensual, Crying during play, Aftercare, Cuddling, Soft Price Warnings: Please mind the tags A/N: The Price Spanking Fic nobody asked for

When Price calls you to his office this evening, you know exactly why.

It’s been a week since your last mission, the one you were in charge of, the one that went wrong. Faulty intel, no one’s fault except your informant, one who’s reward for his neglect had been a bullet to his face. It was nothing less than a bloody fucking miracle you and your team had gotten out alive, though not unscathed. Two of your squad were still in medical a week later, in good spirits but still injured. On your watch.

The mission rattled you more than you expected it to. It’s not your first time leading a team into less than perfect circumstances, but it is the first time it went this rotten. Your nerves are frayed, pent up, unable to uncoil from the stress of the whole situation. Thankfully you’d not been raked over the coals by your CO, but you almost wish you had been, as if the reprimands and stern lashing would provide some sort of needed outlet to your strained, taut emotions.

As it stands, you hadn’t gotten that much, had instead been trying to find ways to deal despite that. The result had you chewing the heads off recruits, snapping at your teammates, tackling the obstacles course, pacing the perimeter of base in a desperate attempt to cool off. Even so, it wasn’t working, and you know that, know you need to find a better method of taming the roiling sensation of uneasiness inside you. Yet your chosen method, the thing that helped, felt simultaneously desperately needed and horrifically indulgent, a guilty pleasure that was more guilt than anything else.

So you buckled down, brushed people off when they checked on you, gritted your teeth with murmurs of “I’m fine.” and didn’t stay around to listen to them object.

It had only been when Soap had gently approached you in the mess hall, in that soft but stubborn way of his when he knew something was wrong that you snapped. The hurt that had flashed across the sergeant’s face when you practically snarled at him was evident, angered and pained. Yet Soap limped away with his tail between his legs, likely knowing there wasn’t much he could help with, and very likely went straight to Price’s office to report on your viperous demeanor.

It had taken less than an hour for you to get the message from Price.

My office. 9pm.

Which is where you stood now, at 8:59, looking at the seconds on your watch tick down until your fated arrival, just to be spiteful.

You knock less than sixty seconds later, and the voice on the other side almost immediately beckons you inside.

He’s sitting at his desk, idly glancing over paperwork, a glass of whiskey half drained on his desk. Condensation collects on it, drips down onto the coaster he’s meticulously placed so it doesn’t stain the wood. Your eyes fall on it, standing at a lazy parade rest, avoiding the stare he levels at you from under the brim of his hat.

“Lock the door.”

The tenor of his voice is less gruff and more commanding, demanding deference, offering a vague warning should you not obey.

Ah. So it’s going to be one of those evenings. You think to yourself, reaching behind you and clicking the lock shut with a noise that speaks of imminent consequences. There’s a low, apprehensive murmur of excitement tracing under your skin, one that trails up your spine in a shiver you swallow down, don’t allow him to see.

It’s infrequent, this thing you have with the captain. A relationship, a still blossoming one, yes- but also something darker, a little more depraved, something to indulge in your mutual urges with each other. It’s always a little present, some days more than others. Around the rest of your comrades he’s no different to you, but when their backs are turned it’s his hand on your nape, giving the smallest amount of delicious pressure that speaks of dominance, possession.

“Come here.”

You pad over, feeling a familiar, low stirring sensation in your gut at the tone of your captain. Firm, unquestionable, a touch severe but only in a way that was meant to be listened.

You come to rest just short of his knees, as he shifts in his chair to face you. Your hands still rest behind you, held in a taut grip he can’t see. When he speaks, you struggle to meet his eyes, struggle to keep your face placid, unreadable.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“No.” You respond almost instantly, a rapid response that you internally wince at because you know he can see straight through it.

“Hm.” He offers in return, and you only grimace harder.

“Have I done anything to deserve that?” Price asks, temperate, even, and the utter control in it sometimes scares you only because you know exactly what lies beneath.

“No, Sir.”

That, at least, is the truth. You have been avoiding him, and Price can see that plain as day. Yet the reason lies not with him but with yourself, your stubbornness to soldier on, to refuse help, to buckle down in the worst of ways until the issue naturally works its way out of your system. Unfortunately for you, Price’s keen eyes pick upon even the smallest subtleties in you. It’s an insight he’s developed from years of service, one you haven’t yet found yourself, often leaving the man before you a series of mysteries. You’ll unravel them with time, you think, trust him to deliver the unknowns piece by piece until there’s either nothing left.

“Care to explain what happened with Soap earlier?” He goes on, and you stiffen noticeably, shoulders rising and back straightening, a little ashamed but also guilty at what transpired earlier. The words of it clog your throat, try and force their way upwards.

You could tell him, confess to him why you’re acting the way you are, ask him for what you need. Yet there’s a little poisonous spite bubbling inside you, one that wants him to force it out of you, wants to push against him rebelliously if only to reap the consequences.

You look him in the eyes, stubbornly refusing to break your gaze.

“No Sir.”

It’s more than a little perfunctory, a little biting, but it feels good to see the way Price’s eyes narrow at your tone. There’s a hunger behind them, pupils dark and focused, like he’s staring at something he wants to take apart.

“I think someone needs an adjustment.” Price declares, voice a low growl that’s still within the realm of warning, not yet dipping to the point of no return. It’s just enough, scratches something in your hindbrain that asks for more. More.

You watch as the captain scoots his chair back from where he sits, legs spread wide. For a moment you think he wants you between them, until one large, calloused palm pats against his thigh.

“Over my knee, darling.”

This is familiar to you, and you’ve spent more than one evening, more than one afternoon in the same place that he instructs you. Now, however, you hesitate, stubbornness crossing your expression, biting down on an objection that you’re fine. You don’t need this. Yet you know Price would see right through that too, and you’re not about to safeword out of a release if you can get one. Not if it’s him.

“Don’t make me ask twice.” He warns, eyes unblinking, and even though you still want to object you at last gingerly drape yourself across his knees, ass upwards.

Price is quick to scoot down your pants, revealing the tender skin of your bottom to his gaze. You jolt at his hand that smoothes across the flesh appreciatively.

“You’re not going to count.” He tells you softly, firmly. “You can use your colors if you need them, but otherwise we’ll be done when I say we’re done. Understood?”

You don’t answer, biting your lip, still fighting it. Price’s hand stills, and then grips against your ass, voice now a clear warning, frustration growing at your clear lack of communication.

“Understood, Sergeant?” He prompts again, and this time you nod, focus down on the floor with a small and breathy “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

With that, Price’s hand comes down. Hard.

Pain blooms against your skin and you yelp, quick to cover your mouth lest the surrounding offices hear you. It’s late, most of the base is in bed, and the chances of someone finding you are slim. Even so, you know better than to risk it.

Price soothes a hand against the skin, offering no murmurs or hums to ease the pain. Instead, you feel his hand pull away, and you suck in a breath, ready for the next slap.

It’s only once you’ve released, dared to glance at him that Price’s hand comes down on the opposite cheek. You jolt forward, a little cry of surprise escaping you once more.

Price is slow, methodical. There’s a precision to him that’s fine tuned with experience, an unrelenting focus to his task at hand that has your gut clenching with a distant flicker of need. Each impact of his hand leaves a stinging, needed deliverance that gives a more than welcome distraction to the festering frustration inside of you.

Price gives you a few breaths between each slap, just enough to collect yourself before his palm comes down in a devastating collision. It doesn’t take long for your ass to warm under his touch, a little raw, making you bite back a hiss as he takes moments to idly stroke it with a tender touch that’s an unnerving contrast to the impacts he offers.

You lay rigid, balancing tightly, muscles coiled and resistant. You’re still fighting it, can’t let go just yet, doggedly refusing to allow yourself to release the tension in your form. It presses down on the small of your back with the bracing touch of Price’s arm, lays thick in your shoulders as you teeth your lip bloody and try not to make any noise.

It’s not enough. You’re still wound far too tight, shoulders scrunched, body rigid, and as Price’s hand comes down once more in a smack that feels thunderous, you can’t help but flinch.

“Mm. That’s not good enough, love.” He rumbles after the next few impacts, with you stubbornly biting your lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. A hand kneads the stinging flesh of your ass and you groan a little at the pain, but don’t raise your voice, don’t move from your position over his lap.

You feel Price pause, adjust, and soon one of your wrists is hauled behind your back, then the other, as you’re forced to sag your entire weight against him. It releases some of the tension in your form, but it only manifests itself in a squirming resistance that has Price huff a little displeased sound down at you.

Price’s hand settles on your nape as you squirm, and the simple act of scruffing you has goosebumps rising across your flesh, body seizing with a sharp intake of air. You tremble, skin electrifying under his touch. Every synapse feels too bright, too hot, and when his thumb presses against the underside of your jaw you give him a full body shudder that vibrates into his hand. Yet all Price offers you in return is a single, growling demand that pulls at something deep, primal inside your ribcage.

“Settle.”

Just like that, you feel yourself loosen abruptly, going completely still, muscles sagging as if Price just snapped the strings holding you aloft. Your body goes lax, limp, head dropping forward in surrender, and Price hums a rumbling, approving noise that makes you keen.

“Very good.”

With that, he resumes.

The spanks come quicker now, with devastating accuracy, rapid fire and heavy. It takes a few impacts for you to stop holding your breath, let your eyes open and unfocus on the floor in front of you. There’s a warm, velvety haze beginning to fog over your senses now. It cottons your thoughts, muffles the world around you, allows that previous resistance inside you to slowly begin to ease.

The pain feels good.

Little moans start spilling past your lips, and you slowly stop trying to silence them. The sting of Price’s hand settles low in your belly, licks a tender flame into your core. A murmur of arousal resides there, fueled by the profound act of surrender. The utter, encompassing trust that resides between you and him in this regard is a tonic unlike any other. It lets you fall completely into yourself, submitting to where he wants to lead you, knowing he’ll ground you, keep you safe, give you not exactly what you want, but what you need.

Price can sense the way you’re unwinding, can feel the noises from you now, a little louder, more breathless, lips parting with shuddering gasps. He pauses after a particularly harsh smack, allowing the knuckles of his hand to rest against the top of your ass. Not moving, just resting. Not finished yet.

“You wanted this but didn’t know how to ask, isn’t that right, love?” He asks, and it takes you a moment, but you nod. Hell, you’re not sure why you didn’t ask for this sooner. You know he’d give it if you asked while you’re wound up like this, would find a way to unravel you at the seams and let the cotton, soft, sinking feeling envelop you and offer you a much needed respite.

“Color?” He prods gently, and you’re already so warmly out of it for a moment that you have to remember how to answer him.

“Green.”

Price grunts, satisfied, and his knuckles trace over the raw, swollen skin of your flesh before his hand turns over again.

He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, and this time you don’t bother to tense before his hand comes down. It’s less this time, the impacts not enough to shatter you the way they did before, but the pain is still enough to make you droop forward, release an exhale that loosens your shoulders all the way down. You’re already feeling it, can already feel the stress being sapped away along with your resistance, but you know Price won’t be satisfied until the thing that was holding it in the first place snaps inside you, makes you surrender completely.

“Doing well. Just a little more.” He urges, and you whimper.

You don’t know if you can take more. You’re already kind of floaty, it already scratches that needed itch under your skin, but you know there’s so much more you can offer him.

At last it comes loose, a sob startles from your throat at it being so much, and it seems to open the floodgates. You inhale a long, shuddering breath as Price pauses, and when it releases it’s as an unsteady, whimpering sigh that dissolves into another sob. Price kneads your ass and the pain forces another cry from your throat until you shudder with it, and begin to cry in earnest.

“That’s it. Very good. Let it go.” He urges, voice soothing, tender, firm in the way you need him to be so he can hold up the sagging, collapsed form of you.

The crying is cathartic, a week of pent up emotion and stress at last simmering to the surface and leaking down your face in hot, wet tears. It’s not at the sting of pain, not at any type of unwillingness or shame. Instead it’s like unplugging a drain, allowing the tepid surface of stress inside you to circle downwards, allowing the utter vulnerability of being like this to sink away the thing that had been holding you back from your own emancipation. Every single remaining ounce of tension in your body sags away, and you droop over Price’s lap with your head tucked forward, chest rattling with thick, sobbing cries.

Fuck, it feels good.

The complete and utter release of the tension in your form has your breath collapse from your lungs, sends hot, fat tears rolling down your face in an all too needed exoneration of the troubled tightness that was held in your form. Even as your chest shutters there’s a strange, serene calm that washes over you at the act of finally, finally letting go.

It isn’t over, because Price delivers several more harsh, stinging slaps, as if to shake the rest of it loose from you, until he at last relents. He braces an arm over the small of your back, murmuring a small “Steady.” as you shudder. Face tipped forward, the trails of tears on your face drip down from your chin onto the floor. A hand gently strokes the stinging, swollen flesh of your ass, and despite the smarting it’s grounding, keeping you leveled from the tempting descent of rumination that lies in the back of your mind.

“You did well.” Price tells you at last, when your cries have begun to ease, and it stutters a little whine from you, the praise a balm to your slightly overwhelmed senses. He waits until you settle a bit more before shifting, and soon you find yourself tucked in his lap, head braced against his chest. You stay there, sniffling, moving to rub at your face, but Price keeps your hand on your lap where it is, a thumb grazing over your knuckles. His voice is low as he offers soft little hushes and murmurs into you, words of praise and reassurance that allow the tears to ebb and make your eyes flutter shut.

You sink, allow yourself to go limp in his arms, with him balancing you and supporting your weight so you can stay in the moment of letting go. One arm braces you, the other holding you fast against his chest where you drink in his musky, heavy scent. Tobacco, gun powder, just a hint of cologne he tries to use to cover the scent of his cigars. It clouds over your senses, sends you down into that blissful state of fuzzy, ambiguous relaxation you’ve craved so desperately since the mission. It’s complete bliss, being able to just be here, in his arms, fresh off a much needed bout of crying and feeling the world fade away so it’s just you, him, and the offerings of smoky praise he breathes into your ear. You float, entirely and blessedly unaware, trusting him to keep you in his arms, to keep you safe, to allow you space for this much needed reprieve.

You don’t know how long you stay down like that. Eventually your hiccups fade into stuttering little breaths, and soon you synchronize your inhales and exhales with the long, steady rise and fall of the captain’s chest. Fatigue wears down on your form, and soon your cottoned, muffled senses give way to a sleepy, comfy kind of softness that has you exhale a long, final sigh against him.

“Back with me?” He asks at last, and you aren’t sure if it’s been mere minutes or hours, too droopy and exhausted to tell. You nod, still a little too hazy to find words, giving him a non-committal, lethargic grumble that has a huff of laughter blowing against your skin.

“Take your time, darling.” He tells you, and you nod once more, let your eyes flutter shut and head loll against his chest just a little longer.

Eventually you feel the world begin to seep back into your senses, and you shift on his lap, hissing at the scrape of your bare ass against his cargo pants.

“Easy.” He tells you, voice dipping with a hint of that sternness again, and you force yourself to still from your wriggling.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Price’s voice finally inquires, and you hesitate, afraid it will all come rushing back the moment you say it all aloud. Yet you remind yourself that you’re safe here, in his arms, that even if you did feel tension and panic rise up again in your chest that Price will ease you back down again.

So it comes spilling loose with an unsteady sigh. The frantic realizations of the mission when it turned sour, the terror as you watched your team members come under fire, hauling them to safety and narrowly avoiding injury yourself. Needing to be strong for them, keeping your mounting horror clamped down as you frantically radioed for ex-fil. Waiting for the chopper as you felt warm blood gush over your palms, rasped reassurances to them, held their hands with red-stained gloves as they were hauled out of the battlefield. Getting back to base and asking yourself what you did, what happened, how you didn’t anticipate this, trying desperately to tell yourself that at least you made it all back alive.

The tears don’t come back. You’re far too spent for that, instead imbuing yourself in the sensation of Price stroking your arm steadily as you ramble, emptying your chest of worries. You don’t know how long it takes, but Price remains silent, steady, a lighthouse in the fog as you surrender to him. Eventually the heavy pauses between your words grow longer, until there’s only silence that remains between you both.

“None of that was your fault, love.” He reminds you at last.

“I know.” You provide after a moment. “I just…” A clinging thickness lingers in your throat, and you swallow it, unfocused eyes lazily resting on the broad planes on his chest.

“I was scared.”

Price sighs, and it isn’t unkind or pitying. It feels more like a release of himself too, allowing you to nuzzle into the emptiness the air leaves behind in his chest. “I know love. But you did well, got your team out, got those lads home alive.”

You nod, and if he had said that an hour earlier you think you would have fought him on it. Now, the words feel like pure, cathartic relief that soothes cooly through your veins.

Silence once again falls over you both as Price allows you to come back to yourself. It’s only once you shift, look up at him that his face turns down towards you, eyebrows raised.

“Solid?”

You nod, a little firmer now, but relaxed, open. “Solid.” You confirm, and oh. You missed that too, the rare, tender smile he gives you. It’s different than the usual wry, amused nature of him, reserved only for moments like this, where the world of gunshots and explosions, of broken bones and helicopters fades into the quiet solitude of just you both.

You relish it as long as you can before it fades, and Price tilts his head down at you to stare under his brows with a stern, admonishing, unblinking stare.

“You’ll come to me before you decide to start biting other people’s heads off. Understood?” He professes rather than inquires, and you wither a little, remorseful, knowing better than to break eye contact with him as you nod, adding an obligatory “Yes, Sir.” for good measure.

“Good girl.” He rumbles, and it has you shiver a little, never immune to the way those words send your blood coursing a little higher in your veins. “Took it well. Always do.”

“Thank you Sir.” You breathe, happy and content, pleased at the act of pleasing him.

“Do you need to…?” You turn to ask, shifting a little on his lap to feel the half-hard bulge in his trousers. Price only chuckles, shakes his head.

“We can worry about that later, love.” He promises, and that makes your eyes widen, sit a little straighter where you sit on him, eager and interested in the offer. Price notices instantly, levels you with a knowing amusement that has his lips curl. “That is, if you want to.” and you duck your head a little, a little abashed at being so very easy to read, but nod.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” You ask quietly.

“Manners.” Price reprimands fondly

“Please?”

He grumbles, feigning begrudging exasperation at the request, and it only has you grin at him, the first smile in what feels like a very, very long time.

“Of course darling.”

#Price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #reader insert #x reader #oneshot #cod mw2 #cod mw2022 #mw2 #mwii #call of duty #my writing #my fic #Tossing this out onto tumblr before I regret it #two fics in one day way to go sproutie #jk they were on ao3 first I'm just now cross posting them here

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roachspeaks · 1 year

Note

QUEEN .....!!! ; Seeing that your request was open, I came here immediately, can I request Michael, Fredy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Bo, Vincent, charles lee ray and Lester. With s/o who have high sex, and are always spoiled by s/O 🥺will always do anything and obey their wishes so then s/o can have sex.

You can think I'm a pervert, you can also ignore my strange request. I really like your story everything is so perfect. Don't forget to take care of your health ❤ and drink lots of water so you don't get dehydrated. Have a good day

Omg I just saw this!! I almost missed it 😭😭😭. But omg ofc. Sorry this took so long(I’m not even sure how long it took tbh) as a bonus for me almost missing your request I included some kinks and aftercare hc’s. <3

Slashers with a s/o with a high sex drive

Warnings: nsfw(obvi), descriptions of sex, some ooc(I think😅), gender neutral terms,

Michael Myers(any)

At first he doesn’t understand the appeal of sex. He spent his entire teenage years in a mental institution. Didn’t have much time to explore his own body or desires. But after much begging(and him coming to the conclusion it means a lot to you) he decides to try it. What could go wrong right? Remember how I said he didn’t get to go trough his basic teenage hormone faze? You’ve made him hyper sexual. Of course he’s gonna be selfish with it, and you will get little to no control. But he’s come to the realization he likes sex. You better bet he’s rough with it too. He’s definitely a pain/masochism kinda guy. You offer to integrate blood or knives in the mix?(even if its fake) He’s into it. Again with the roughness, choking, degrading(this man doesn’t even need words to be degrading). He’s defo the type to fuck you until you cry. Aftercare isn’t really his strong suit. If you pass out or can’t walk to the bathroom yourself he’ll clean you up(he ain’t a condom man, ain’t got no patience). Of course if you comment on it he’ll deny it.

Freddy Krueger

My personal feeling about this man are mixed. He’s definitely a torture kinda guy. Like either denying your orgasm over and over. Edging you until you can’t think. Or making you cum over and over until the same result. His sex drive is also exponentially high so your made for each other. His whole dream power has definitely been used to make you have wet dreams. Even to just manipulate you Into wanting sex. A bondage guy. I can see it. He’d enjoy the thrill of you not being able to do anything as he tortures you. Aftercare isn’t great with him either. He’ll wipe you down and let you cuddle him(because any physical contact is physical contact enough for him).

Bo Sinclair

It has been established that Bo is no amateur. He’s a sex guy. When he discovers your high sex drive he’s thrilled. Counters, bedrooms, showers, public bathrooms, nowhere is safe. He’s into just about everything you can think of but some that stick out, oral(receiving mostly), roughness in general, you being loud, PRAISE. He will never admit it, to his dying breath. But this man lives for your praise and your sounds. It lets him know that he’s making you feel good. He may act like a self centred asshole(and sometimes he is) but he’s also always looking out for your pleasure. After care with him is surprisingly adequate. He knows he can be rough. And after sex he’ll run you a hot bath and join you(if you’d prefer that of course). He’ll let you sleep on top of him and the next day he’ll make you food.

Vincent Sinclair

He’s the KING of giving oral. Loves making you feel good more than anything. Also a massive vouyer(enjoys watching you touch yourself). He has tunnels in the walls for a reason. And my man can multitask. You can be horny, whining and begging for him to ruin you, and he can use one hand to do just that while he uses the other to do his sketches.(I headcannon he’s ambidextrous). He’s definitely the type to lick his fingers after you cum for him. Like he does it so casually. Aftercare with this man is HEAVEN. He’s so touch deprived you can count on cuddles and showers of kisses(and literal showers too). A worrier. Will ask over and over if he was too rough. And he can be ROUGH. Like face red with tears of pleasure, legs numb. Especially if you decided to be bratty with him.

Lester Sinclair

Much like Vincent he is also a worrier. But the whole time. Unlike Vince he can’t multitask as simply. But k GUARANTEE the moment you mention how your feeling he has dropped everything and is ready to please you. He’s like a puppy staring at you, waiting for instruction. Once he gets an idea of what you want he’s getting straight to work. He’s defo a chest guy. Don’t matter if you have boobs or not. He will watch for any reaction that you make, any spots on your body that warrant specific sounds or bodily reactions from you when he touches them. After a while he knows your body better then you do. He can be rough if you want him to but prefers to be gentle and thorough. He’s also an aftercare-aholic. Will hold you and smother you until you have to physically push him away(but why would you need to am I right?).

Jason Voorhees

As MANY people have stated, his feelings about sex are mixed. It was something the camp leaders who let him die participated in, and that was bad. But it was also something you clearly valued and you weren’t bad. You are the love of us life. Once he gets over the idea of it being sinful, he can RAIL. Like you can’t expect me to believe a guy his size doesn’t pound hard. When he sees your reactions to him for the first time he’s concerned. But when he learns it’s because he’s making you feel good he needs to hear and feel it again. Definitely more of a vanilla guy, but he’s good at it. Aftercare is amazing. His momma always taught him to treat his partner right. He’ll even take time off from hunting down the intruders of the camp to cuddle you and hold you close. He’s not small. That can be agreed on. That’s also something he knows. So he wants you to be okay. Besides, you come first. Always.

Omg Jesus. I hope this is okay or what you wanted. I didn’t do Charles specifically because I don’t know like ANYTHING abt him. I hope this doesn’t sound rushed or anything. Thanks for reading, take care loves<3

#slashers #slashers x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #x reader #bo sinclair #x gender neutral reader #jason voorhees #slasher smut #michael myers #freddy krueger #request

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raisin-shell · 2 months

Note

I think I’ve spent most of my night going through your blog, I love your writing so much! Do you think you could do kind of like a kink list for the boys on what they’re into overall? Either that or maybe something like what qualities they seek in an SO/if they have a type etc. Whichever you feel would be more interesting! Thank you :) ❤️

Oh my gosh that’s so incredibly sweet to tell me! I was opposed to masterlists for a while but I made one so it’s easier to find my stuff. And AND there will be more to come. Thank you love! This made my day. 🥰🥰🥰 Now then let’s get kinky! And this is LONG OMG I’m so sorry for everyone’s feeds! 😂 my boys are all pan too so, it should get interesting!

Leonardo

Boy blue loves his bondage. Not BDSM in general, but restraint as an art form. He practices kinbaku or shibari. He likes restraint so he can sexually tease his partner

Speaking of tease… nothing turns him on more than you flashing a little more skin or tracing your toes up his inner thigh beneath the dinner table then pulling away and paying him no mind

Tease and denial. Once you’ve caught his attention he will get even by the end of the night. Even if that means you can feel the heat from his breath against your soft petals yet he refrains from taking a taste

Male dominance. With a female he is the dominant one. With a male he’s not

Orgasm denial. Nothing gives him a bigger head than when he fucks your body into the abyss only to rip your orgasm from you just as you’re about to combust

Collaring. Should you present him with one ohhhh buddy. Hell chain you and pull back causing your neck to crane from behind

Wax play. Listen the man loves his candles. Dripping the heated wax on your bare lower back will have him soaring

His favorite fabric for you to wear is satin or silk

He loves anal, giving or receiving

Will not turn down a threesome as long as it’s your idea and you’re okay with it

His favorite position is any position which places you face to face with him

Raphael

Spanking and whipping. Nothing and I mean nothing gets his gears going better than seeing your ass ripple from a his firm slap

Rimming. This man lives to eat your ass and doesn’t mind his own eaten either

He will allow you to peg him (females) and prefers to be a top when with a male but will lower his inhibitions should it be the right person… he’ll receive anal

Oral sex and deep throating. Raph loves to part your petals with his tongue. He also enjoys taking a males cock down his throat just so he can prove that he is a soul snatcher

This is a man who likes his prostate milked or massaged and will do so for his partner as well

Loves cream pies. He has so much cum you’ll be drizzled with it

Prefers to go bareback. Let’s face it what condom on this green earth would fit him

Loves double penetration. His thick rod can feel the other object inserted inside of you

Squirting. Like I said prior… he’s a soul snatcher and nothing makes his cock harder than watching you spirt up his arm

It’s a no brainer that Raphael loves a good strip tease. His favorite material is leather or metal

Will squeeze your neck while fucking you silly sending you flying over the handle… quietly to

Favorite position is doggystyle. He likes to watch your ass bouncing against him

Donatello

Hide your sister, your momma, her sister and your grandma… this guy is a MASSIVE FREAK

Bondage. This man will strap you to a table by your wrists and ankles. He’ll sexually torture your nipples, clit or head and testicles

Slave training. Only when intimate does this normally mellow fellow need a touch of masochism. When with a male he��s a bottom therefore making him the sex slave

Spanking and whipping. He’ll tan those cheeks good and red then softly kiss the tender flesh sending your senses overboard

Anal, pegging, rimming, prostate massage and milking. Donnie knows that his back door is there for a reason and it’s not just to well you know

Electro sex, temperature play, wax play. Not only does he get off to your bodies reaction to stimuli, but he will jot it down in his notes

He also likes douching and enemas only if you’re comfortable. He likes to watch your abdomen fill with fluid and also he likes to work with a clean slate if you know what I mean

Squirting. THIS IS THIS MANS MIDDLE NAME. YOU MAY LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS

Donnie also likes snowblowing. If you don’t know what that is, google it

Oral sex and deepthroating. Donnie is a master at oral with his deep long neck and an equally long tongue. He can give head like a champ. However he tends to be a bit shy about you doing this too him. His length is nothing easy to swallow

His favorite materials for you to wear are latex, nylon or spandex

Has invented his own sex toys and several for you too

His favorite position is spooning from behind. With a male he would do a reach around

Mikey

Food play. Hide the syrup and the whip cream because baby boy is HUNGRY

Forced orgasm. Nothing turns him on more than to know he is in full control of your pleasure… and there’s nothing you can do about it

Spanking, paddling. Mikey won’t chap your ass but he does love the way it jiggles when he paddles you

Cream pies. This man will not only watch but want to taste. You’ll be cooing in a goopy mess in no time

Loves to go bareback because of how it feels. Not a fan of latex

Loves to give you money shots. His cum on your face is gold to him

Be prepared for lots of tickling, nipple play and clit or head play all whilst being restrained with fluffy handcuffs

Will masturbate in front of you or want you to do it so he can watch

Mikey likes strip teases in playful lingerie

His favorite materials for you to wear is metal or fur

Tentacle sex. He’s got several dildos with tons of lube waiting for you. He likes to watch the slippery appendage disappear into your cavity

Is not opposed to group sex especially if it’s with his brothers

Loves having sex in public. The risk of getting caught is just too thrilling to him.

His favorite position is woman on top. Doggystyle top for males.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #answered asks #tmnt kinks

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vrisrezis · 8 months

Note

Yan! Geto kink list⁉️⁉️

OHHHHH ANON PLEASEEEE 😫😫😫😫😫😫 u asked for it bruh

Ahem

- masochism ? . Please beat the shit out of him, cause blood and bruising. He needs it rough :) step on his dick, hit him, etc.

- rough sex I mean this one is just like . Obvious . he needs you to break his dick or his boypussy take your pick

- EDGING!! this is his fav one , tell him he doesn’t deserve it, gets off so much to it, it hurts so bad but he just can’t get enough. Pleads for you to let him cum, “please, I know I don’t deserve it but please!”

- degradation is a big one as well, even when he isn’t being sexual with you he tends to degrade himself so it’s not surprising he gets off to you degrading him.

- hair pulling this one is soooo huge he could actually come to you just pulling the shit out of his hair, please be rough.

- erm . He likes when you come on his face a lot

- loves being marked. Like a lot more than a normal person would. He loves the idea of being owned by you, so he will beg you to mark him all over

- breeding kink doesn’t matter which way . Need to breed u . Needs u to breed him

- choking . Sorry not sorry . Choke him till he passes out and he’s drowning in his own saliva

- crying kink? Idfk . Please make him cry

- overstim yes PLEASEEEE he wants you to fuck him till he’s begging you to stop

- exhibitionism is a big one, gets off so much to the idea of somebody catching you guys, people knowing your his, people knowing he’s yours

- so Yknow, public sex too

- on the topic of degradation he likes to call himself your plaything and your little fleshlight pretty often

- also toy/boytoy

- while more into degradation cause he feels he deserves it, he also secretly likes praise but feels undeserving of it. If you praise him during sex though it actually feeds more into his obsession with you.

- gets so shy and embarrassed when you praise him, he’s so red in the face. But it makes him melt, and while he’s already your good boy he is even better when you praise him. He will do anything to please you at that point, even moreso.

- speaking of, worshipping is just a given. He calls you his god/goddess, his king/queen/royalty/royal/whatever other title, etc.

- he’s really into tit jobs idk if this counts but he just really likes it either way LOL

- likes being slut shamed

- FEMINIZATION IS SO HUGE ! Call him your little princess, call him a good girl, make him a mommy, buy a cute little skirt for him to wear, call him your wife. Even just in a non sexual manner he likes being called feminine things

- I definitely have more but take this for now

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venus-haze · 1 year

Text

Girls on Film (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: As a film studies major at Windsor College, your junior year is proving to be an eventful one as the eponymous Ghostface begins targeting fellow students, some who you consider friends. You try to focus on your classes, mainly the short film project you’re working on with Mickey Altieri, who your professor inexplicably paired you up with despite the two of you having almost polar opposite views on the medium.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. You’re also into gross out movies because I wanted a strong contrast to Mickey’s “blame the movies” thing and also irony…as you’ll see. This is an extremely dark fic, so look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this. Also, you know and I know that Mickey didn’t kill Randy, but in the context of the fic, the reader-character doesn’t know that. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: One-sided rivalry (Mickey hates your guts). Discussions of “gross” movies and themes. Descriptions of violence. Major character deaths. Sexually explicit content which involves non/dubcon, knifeplay, bloodplay, sadism (slight masochism). Do not interact if you are under 18.

Film Theory went from okay to off the walls when Mickey Altieri decided to make the argument that movies could be responsible for people’s actions. Using the brutal murders at the early Stab screening in town as an example was in poor taste when it had just happened the night before. It wasn’t even that you disliked Mickey, having met him in your Introduction to Film History course. He was pretty funny, and the two of you had a lot of the same classes together, moved in the same social circles.

He’d expressed similar views before, but never so egregiously. You couldn’t believe a fellow film student would have such a regressive view of cinema. It was asinine to even entertain the idea, but you couldn’t let the conversation go on without giving your two-cents to your peers.

“CiCi’s right. That exact thinking is what led to the Hays Code.”

“Bonnie and Clyde was one of the first post-Code movies to make it big. It showed there’s profit in glorifying crime and violence,” Mickey said. “The decade after it came out was the golden age of serial killers.”

“Oh sure, I watched one too many John Waters movies, and now I’m having sex in confession booths,” you said, earning snickers from your classmates.

“Thank you,” Randy said. “I don’t think anyone was eating dog shit after watching Pink Flamingos.”

“Maybe Ghostface got the idea for the phone calls from Serial Mom,” one of your classmates quipped.

“Kathleen Turner’s character in that was inspired by serial killers. She read true crime books and collected paraphernalia,” Mickey argued.

“I’ll do you one better and raise you John Waters himself,” you said. “The guy has a morbid fascination with the Manson Family to the point where he incorporates references to them in almost all of his movies. He hasn’t committed any mass murders.”

“No, he just makes movies that make people wanna puke,” another classmate said.

Mickey opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by Sidney and Hallie rushing to the classroom door, looking for Randy. Unable to keep the class’s attention after that, your professor dismissed everyone.

CiCi made her way over to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Reagan-era politics have really poisoned some of these people’s critical thinking skills.”

“Tell me about it,” you agreed.

CiCi had been in a lot of the same classes as you your freshman year, and the two of you became fast friends over your similar taste in movies and distaste for closed-minded people. She was a big Lee Grant fan, wanting to make candid documentaries about tough social issues too.

You had some time to kill before your next class, so the two of you made your way to one of the empty picnic tables outside and continued the discussion, which had quickly turned into mutual ranting. Her point about the Slumber Party Massacre movies being directed by women was cut short when you realized you’d have to book it across campus to make it to Film Production II in time.

It was one of the higher level courses for film students who were looking to make feature films rather than focus on screenwriting or making documentaries. Among the prerequisites for Film Production II were Screenwriting I and II. In theory, everyone in the class would have two or three short film scripts ready to be adapted for an advanced Film Studies class. Few films were ever solo projects, so you weren’t surprised when your professor told everyone on the first day of class to prepare to be partnered up for the project, which would count for most of the course’s grade.

When you walked into the classroom, your professor handed you a slip of paper with two names on it. Yours and–of course. You almost had to laugh at the irony. Mickey. His attitude toward you could be unpredictable. Some days would be fine, and others it was like the two of you were about to bite each other’s heads off.

Speak of the devil. You watched his reaction to the slip of paper when he walked in. Unreadable, even when his attention turned to you.

“Is Sidney okay?” you asked when Mickey sat next to you.

“As okay as anyone can be in this situation. That cop from Woodsboro’s here—Dewey, he’s keeping an eye on her.”

“That’s good.”

“So, let’s get started on this thing I guess. Any ideas?”

“Okay cool. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and my strongest script is ‘The Tongue Remembers’.”

He scoffed. “The one about the cannibal girl who gets lobotomized?”

“Well, we could take the easy route and make a porno,” you snapped. “Not that it’d be very long.”

“Knowing you it’d be snuff.”

“Whatever. We’ll do one of yours, but I get to do casting and set design.”

“Easy enough, ‘Stakeout’ has four characters,” he said, digging through his backpack for a copy of the script.

You flipped through the script, scanning the first few pages to jog your memory. An action-comedy about a group of criminals who knew that they were being staked-out by undercover cops, unaware that one was within their midst. Mickey’s comedy writing was fast-paced and genuinely funny. You’d told him so in your peer review of his script in Screenwriting II. The reviews were anonymous, but the effort was still there.

Most of the reviews for ‘The Tongue Remembers’ were positive, with criticisms of some minor plot points that helped you make the whole script stronger in the long run. The review you appreciated most tore the damn thing apart, but gave detailed explanations for the suggestions given, all of which were so good you almost wanted to seek out who the source was. A handful of people didn’t care for your script at all, objecting to the plot altogether. You quietly suspected Mickey was one of them.

You tried to shake the tension that had settled over you and Mickey following the exchange just a few moments prior. At least it’d be good experience for dealing with inevitable assholes as you worked your way up in the film industry. It was tough to make it without connections, and even tougher for women.

By the end of class, the two of you agreed to meet in the library the next day and start planning casting and a general production schedule. Mickey had more editing experience than you did, but you wanted to sit in on the process after initial production of the short film was over. He begrudgingly agreed, and you left the classroom for the dining hall in a sour mood.

When you walked into the crowded dining hall for dinner, you spotted Randy and rushed over to join him. More often than you’d like, he’d have to be the mediator when you and Mickey would really get into it. At least he seemed to find it amusing.

“Hey, is everything alright?” you asked.

He handed you a plate that already had two slices of pizza on it and grabbed one for himself. “Besides the whole ‘Ghostface is back and people are being murdered’ thing? Can’t complain. How about you? Get your partner for Production II yet?”

“Yeah. Mickey.”

Randy laughed. “Nice. I’m sure that won’t be a disaster.”

“I don’t want it to be! I even said we could do one of his scripts.”

“Which one?”

“That action-comedy he wrote, ‘Stakeout’,” you said as the two of you sat at an empty table. “It’s a good script. He’s a great comedy writer. I’m just pissed he wouldn’t even consider ‘The Tongue Remembers’.”

Randy nodded in acknowledgement. “I liked that one. You did a good job of making the cannibals sympathetic. Strong ending too. I’m not so sure it’d go over well at Windsor’s student film fest. Lotta weak stomachs.”

“Last year’s winner was a fucking romcom.”

“So you give the cannibal a love interest. Go a little further than Texas Chainsaw 2.”

“I’m not trying to win awards. I wanna make art.”

“You gotta sell out before you can make art. That’s the industry, kid,” he said, patting your shoulder sympathetically. “Are you gonna be at the Delta Zeta whatever party tonight?”

“Delta Lambda Zeta? I don’t think so,” you said. “I gotta find people to be in this movie.”

It turned out to be one of the best decisions you could have made, because you ended up with a list of people interested in a role in ‘Stakeout’. More pressing, however, was the news that Ghostface had made an appearance at the party, after killing CiCi in the Omega Beta Zeta house. Your stomach dropped at the news. Just a few hours before her death you’d been talking to her. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t connected to anyone from the original Woodsboro killings, the students who were killed at the Stab premiere hadn’t been either.

In a small college like Windsor, news traveled fast, and by the time you finished eating breakfast, you’d heard that Sidney, Randy, Hallie, Derek, and Mickey had all spent the night at the police station following the attack.

You didn’t want to ask Randy if you were a suspect. Your film taste alone would put you at the top of the list by default. As much as you understood the reasoning considering the last Ghostface duo’s obsession with horror movies, it didn’t mean everyone who watched them would be inclined to commit murder, despite what Mickey thought. Besides, who would your accomplice even be? Derek or Hallie would be too obvious. Gale Weathers was cutthroat, but not in the literal sense. Randy or Dewey would be a devastating twist if the goal was to mess with Sidney that much more. You felt bad. This type of thing was fun in the movies. You couldn’t imagine it being your life.

Making your way to the library, you weren’t sure whether or not Mickey would actually show up after spending all night in a police station, but it didn’t hurt to go anyway and get other work done.

To your surprise, he sat down across from you a few minutes after you’d agreed to meet. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, dark circles under his eyes.

“Jesus have you even slept? We can do this another day.”

“Spare me your concern.”

“Look, I don’t want this project to be miserable for either of us,” you said. “Between Film Theory and Production, I was kind of being a bitch yesterday.”

“It was really that porno comment that hit me deep. I’m no two-pump chump,” he said with a smile.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Oh, I have some people interested in three of the four roles for ‘Stakeout’.”

“Already?”

“I wanted to make it up to you.”

He was silent for a moment, placing a hand on your arm and squeezing gently. “I’m sorry about CiCi. I know she was your friend.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, trying to keep it together. The last thing you wanted was to break down in the middle of the library.

The two of you planned to do a test shoot in one of the theater’s empty practice auditoriums over the weekend. The main stage was being used for the theater department’s annual play, but Mickey pointed out that ‘Stakeout’ mostly took place in one room anyway. You went ahead and booked the auditorium on the library computer for about three hours, just to give enough time to work out any kinks and not worry about being interrupted.

While Mickey was going to spend the following couple of days getting props together and making any last minute changes to the script, you would finalize the cast since he approved of your choices, surprisingly. At least, you were going to, until Randy ended up dead not long after CiCi.

You spent a day locked in your dorm room, partially out of paranoia and also in the depression of losing two of your close friends within days of each other. It was getting serious. Randy had survived Woodsboro. If he wasn’t off limits to Ghostface, no one was.

By Saturday, you’d debated bailing on Mickey and not bothering to show up for the test shoot. You decided against it. Moping wouldn’t do you any good.

He looked shocked to see you when you walked into the auditorium. You felt bad your progress on casting stalled. His friend had died too, but he had his shit together enough to bring a box of props and the camera.

“Are you sure you’re good to shoot today?” Mickey asked from behind the camera, set a few feet from the stage.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice cracking a bit. “Really, it’s all good.”

“We don’t have to–”

You shook your head. “Let’s do this.”

“Alright,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “You mind locking the door?”

“Okay.” You walked back to the door, locking it. “I got two of the leads for ‘Stakeout’ down, Frank and Alex. I know Frank wasn’t our first choice, but Greg backed out.”

“No problem–shit, I forgot something in the props box over there,” he said, adjusting the settings on the camera. “Could you get it while I finish setting this up? You can’t miss it.”

“Sure,” you said, making your way over to the cardboard box Mickey had brought with him. It took a lot to rattle you, but as soon as you looked in the box, your skin crawled. The Ghostface mask stared back at you, eyes empty black holes. The same ones your friends saw before they died. “Mickey? This better be some kind of stupid joke.”

You turned around to find him less than a foot behind you. Camera set to record. Knife in his hand. Dangerous gleam in his eye as he took a step toward you.

“Last minute change—unprofessional, I know—but I decided to go in a different direction for our short film,” he said, a sadistic grin spread across his face. “You’re gonna be the star. Too bad you won’t be able to see it.”

Just as you began to scream, he put his hand over your mouth, holding the knife to your throat. “Don’t be a diva on me now. You just say what I tell you, okay?”

You nodded frantically, vision blurred by the tears that flowed freely from your eyes. In your desperation, you accidentally nicked your own skin against the knife, whimpering at the small cut you’d self-induced. Mickey snickered, his gaze shifting from you to the camera lens.

He moved his hand from your mouth, though his thumb rested on your lower lip. Slowly, he pushed it between your lips. Fuck this. Fuck him. You bit down until you tasted copper, earning a sloppy slash across your chest that made you cry out in pain, releasing his thumb.

He looked at his hand in disbelief and then at you, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna fight back, huh? You wanna play that game?” he said, an unnerving laugh escaping his lips.

Feeling bold, you spit his own blood in his face. In his moment of distraction you grabbed the knife, managing to pull it from his hand. You stumbled back, holding out the knife with a shaky hand.

Despite you having the weapon, he still seemed smug, amusement in his eyes as he lunged toward you. You wildly swung the knife, cutting his abdomen as you crashed to the ground. He climbed on you, grabbing at your flailing arms as you tried to keep him away with the threat of being cut again.

“I’ll kill you! Fucking bastard!” you screamed. “You killed my fucking friends!”

“Do it!” he taunted. “C’mon, I wanna see you try.”

In your struggle to stab him, you lost your grip on the knife, and it slid across the stage. The both of you froze. You used this moment to push him off of you, scrambling to retrieve it. He threw a punch to your back. The wind knocked out of you, violent coughs clawing their way out of your lungs. He took the opportunity to stand up as you lay on the ground in pain.

Still, with the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you grabbed for the knife, hissing as your fingers wrapped around the blade and cut deep into your skin. It didn’t matter. You had to do the most with it while you had it in your grasp.

You held the knife up in a weak defense as he kicked your stomach. When he moved to kick you again, you slashed his leg, pulling the blade from his flesh and watching as blood quickly stained his pants.

The wild look in his eye intensified, and he dropped down, his hips straddling yours. You could feel his hard cock press against your core as he shifted. And he said you got off to fucked up shit.

With one hand, he applied pressure to your throat as the other held down the arm you were holding the knife with. You released your grip on the knife as black spots clouded your vision. You could vaguely hear it fall to the ground when his hand released your throat, and you sucked in a much-needed breath. He picked up the weapon, a triumphant grin on his face. You were fucked.

He sat up, lazily dragging the knife down from your chest to your hips. “You probably should’ve killed me.”

“You think I wasn’t trying?” you wheezed.

“You put up a good fight. I’ll give you that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“And you don’t? I saw the thrill in your eyes every time you raised this at me.”

“It’s self-defense!”

“You tell yourself that, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, only for him to stop to whisper, “Try something, and I swear to god I’ll knock your teeth out.”

You were having trouble breathing. He probably crushed part of your trachea. At least you put up a good fight. You lay still as he kissed you, not making an effort to kiss him back until he pressed the blade against your throat. Even then, you let him take the lead, your lips passively responding to his as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He wasn’t a bad kisser. Shame he was a serial killer. It took everything in you not to bite down on it like you had his thumb. You didn’t have the energy to fight back. Knew he wasn’t bluffing about your teeth either.

He pulled away from you, a string of bloody saliva hanging from your lips that he swiped with his injured thumb. Bringing the digit to his mouth, he licked it. You grimaced at the sight.

“C’mon, babe, I thought you were into this kinda thing,” he teased.

“That’s all pretend. It’s not real,” you argued softly.

You gasped as he cut through your top and bra, digging the blade into your abdomen. He traced the tip of the knife around your breasts, watching in amusement as you began to cry. The cool air in the room and metal brushing your nipples made them hard. He used his free hand to pinch and pull at one, eliciting pained whines from you. Your teary gaze was fixed on the knife, though.

“Why don’t you give me a big smile for the camera and tell me how bad you want me to fuck you?”

“Screw you!” you shouted hoarsely.

He scoffed, pulling the knife away from your breasts and holding the blunt side between his teeth as he unzipped your jeans. You squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled the denim down your limp legs, leaving you in only your panties. His index and middle finger pressed against the cotton, rubbing a bit at the wet spot in the fabric.

A pleased noise came from his throat. “So you are into this kinda thing.”

He snapped the elastic waistband against your hips. You moaned. Your eyes shot open, face heating up in embarrassment.

The knife was back in his hand, though the gleam of the blade lowered, down, down, until you felt it pressed against your inner thigh. He dragged the blade across your sensitive skin until the only thing between it and your pussy was the thin fabric of your panties. You felt like your heart was going to explode from your chest.

“Stop. Mickey, please don’t—oh my god—“ you babbled. “Please—Mickey, I’m sorry—“

“You gonna do what I say?”

“Please fuck me, Mickey. I want you to fuck me so bad.”

“That’s better, baby,” he cooed mockingly.

You heaved a sob of relief as you felt him pull the knife from your panties. Closing your eyes again, you reckoned your impending doom with yourself, trying to ignore the sound of his zipper. The rustling of fabric. The air on your bare pussy.

“Time for the real show.”

Mickey played with your clit while he leaned down to kiss you again, devouring your involuntary moans with a triumphant smugness.

“The rest of them were messy and painful, just like in the movies,” he said softly, confusing you for a moment before you realized he was talking about his other victims. “I didn’t hate them, though, so I’ll blame this one on violent porn.”

“Mickey, I won’t tell anyone,” you tried. “This can be our secret. I—I like it, really.”

He groaned, pushing his hard cock between your folds. A pained cry escaped your lips as his length filled you. He hardly gave you any time to get used to him inside you as he began thrusting at a brutal pace.

“Keep going,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“You feel so good, Mickey. Your cock is so—fuck—I don’t want anyone else.” You struggled to get words out, your brain overrun by the pain and pleasure that competed to cloud your senses.

“You’re not getting anyone else.”

Your eyes drifted to the knife in his hand as he pounded into you, nervous about what he was going to do with it next.

“Look at me, baby,” he ordered.

Your fearful gaze snapped to his, cruel and unforgiving. He kept rubbing circles on your clit, so fast it was almost too painful. That’s what he wanted, though. For you to hurt. Made him feel better, get off quicker if you hurt. It was almost too easy for him, the way your body betrayed you so quickly, wet with slick so he hardly had to do a thing before claiming your cunt.

Your pussy squeezed his cock, a silent encouragement with each thrust against your will. His breathing was heavy, sweat dripping from his forehead, yet he showed no signs of letting up on you. Bleeding, aching, you weren’t sure how much longer you could take the abuse.

“I want you to ruin me, Mickey.” You meant it. If this was how you were going to meet your end, it might as well be as brutal as the dark scenarios your mind sometimes wandered to after watching a particularly bloody film. Maybe he was right. Maybe the movies were to blame. “Fucking wreck me.”

He shuddered, his thrusts getting sloppy. “Fuck–Jesus fucking–”

His grip around the knife handle tightened as he came, knuckles white as he stabbed it into the floor, mere inches away from your face. You jolted, fear and adrenaline sending you over the edge. Your orgasm wracked through your body, muscles tensing, the sensation pulsing through your wounds, making them feel like they were on fire.

You nearly blacked out, but you held on long enough to feel him bottom out inside you. His head hung over yours as he caught his breath. Tilting your head up a bit, you kissed him. Softer, more intimate, hopefully enough to throw him off.

You reached for the knife next to you, but he pulled it out of the floor before you could.

“Nice try,” he said, breaking the kiss.

He stood up and walked away. For a moment, you thought he was going to just leave you there. You weren’t so lucky. He returned with Ghostface regalia in hand, looking down at your bloody body beneath him with a grin.

Mickey brought the voice modifier to his mouth. “Now, who wants to die for art?”

#mickey altieri x reader #ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #ghostface #mickey altieri #scream 2 #scream #slasher fandom #slasher community #scream franchise #scream movies

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

thirst trap || jjk

main masterlist | listen while you read | mailbox | bangtan seven deadly sins collab

Invincible.

That’s how you feel as the warm breeze whips your arm hanging out of the driver’s side door. Nothing but open road and miles of dirt terrains surround your tiny sports car. The smell of your hair products fills the air as the wind sends your curls flying in every direction. A glance in the rearview mirror through your dark lens-covered eyes reveals that your previous style has become wild and blown out. However, there is nothing a brush and a hair tie can’t fix.

There are far more important things on your mind.

The message came through around 3 AM and by 5 AM, you were on the road, headed nearly 2000 miles outside of your hometown to see the biggest rockstar this world has ever seen.

Not to see him live or anything like that; you could never afford that on a barista’s salary, but you can use your allowance to visit a church retreat. That’s exactly where you told your parents you were going when you withdrew $3300 from your savings.

Of course, you can never go back to your life there now that you’ve lied to go “see the devil” as they would put it, but the thing is. You don’t want to.

All you want to do is travel and see the world they speak so poorly of. Everything you’ve ever been taught came through the mouths of bigots who held themselves higher than anyone who did not worship their God.

From the start of life, you walked the path they’d beaten for you. But once you turned 18, all of hell broke loose. For three years, you’ve lived a double life—spending Sunday through Friday as a well-mannered young lady while you partied on the weekends.

Even though you hate university, it’s also the best thing that ever happened to you. You met friends, learned how to lie—and discovered sexual desires you never thought you had.

However, all that wasn’t enough for a caged bird like yourself even. You started hanging out with a group of people who didn't attend college and spent most of their time idolizing their favorite rock gods. That’s how it happened.

That’s how you found him.

Jungkook’s hair was long, he wore leather pants with his shirt ripped open, chest and abs exposed—he was the definition of a deity because he owned every piece of the stage and the crowd surrounding him. His eyes were pitched black and made out to be soulless, but somehow you still found a spark in them. A passion for the music that you felt you shared with him.

It’s like you read his emotions that no one else could see. As delusional as it sounds, you felt connected.

So, you found his Instagram, you liked his pictures, and you flooded his comments. You even became brave enough to DM him every day.

You’ve always said that you’d stop if he asked you to, but the thing is, he never did. He hasn’t replied either. Well, up until yesterday.

You were on his account looking at his photos, when suddenly you received a direct message. You don’t have many real friends, and you figured it was just one of them sending you a link or something. It didn’t click in your mind until you opened your messages and saw his profile icon and username.

For the first ten minutes, you screamed into your pillow, but then you realized it could be a bot or maybe his account could be hacked. However after opening the message, you discovered a picture of a note.

Written in his handwriting were coordinates to an unknown location. Your first reaction was to look them up, but it only provided an empty piece of land. Because you were skeptical, you asked him about the location but received no reply.

After a while, you concluded that maybe his home is located there, and the global satellite hasn’t picked it up yet. That’s what you wanted to believe, at least. And that is what persuaded you to pack a bag and abandon your life.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew it was on your mind anyway. You’re a thrill seeker; every day you thought about packing your shit and leaving just because you were bored.

You aren’t afraid of not knowing the future or taking a leap, so that’s why despite knowing this is a bad idea, you said, “fuck it.”

Fuck what your religious parents have to say, to hell with your studies, and goodbye to that boring ass town. You’re thirty miles away from meeting the lead singer of Deadly Svn, and your heart is racing with adrenaline.

You spent the night at a hotel and left to meet him at the location about two hours ago. Every few hours, you try to update him, but now you have no signal to contact him. You hope he’s home and security doesn’t call the cops.

The optimism you had before leaving your hometown slowly fades as you get closer and closer, but no sign of life of residency comes into view. You start to believe this was just a joke to get back at you for being so thirsty.

All of your plans to tell him how much you love his music and how you adore his courage to be different seem to be a waste of all the time you practiced in the mirror, so you don’t stammer and trip over yourself. You start to think you’ll never be able to tell him how much he’s changed your life for the better or how you’ll save up enough to see him live one day.

Your expectations sink lower as your GPS takes you off the highway and into the wilderness.

A dirt storm begins to form, prompting you to roll up your windows so that the particles don’t travel into your interior. You can barely see five feet ahead, but you keep going until you hear,

“Your destination is up ahead. You have arrived.”

You sit waiting and holding your breath until the dirt settles. Whirlwinds cover your car in a tan gritted coat of dry soil, but it doesn’t matter to you when your feelings are on the line.

You brace yourself for the worst, and once it’s clear, you know you’ve done right. Absolutely nothing lies in front of you, and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You pull out your phone and try to send a message over and over, but ultimately realize that you can’t.

It dawns on you that he’s not coming after several minutes of waiting. You’re hurt, heartbroken if you’re being honest with yourself. There’s no denying how high your hopes were despite the probability being highly unlikely, so you don’t even bother holding back the scream that erupts in your throat.

Your fists punch the steering wheel multiple times, releasing your frustrations on your beloved car. Your hands still tremble long after your outburst is over.

Sighing, you grab your bag off the floor and look for something to tie your hair up so that it doesn’t blow in your face once you step outside for a smoke. You find your brush and a scrunchie then get to work.

The process lasts about a minute, and once you have a ponytail secured, you throw the brush on the seat and grab your cigarette pack and lighter.

A gust of air hits your cunt when the door opens, and you place a foot on the ground. You push down your little black dress to shield your fishnet and panty-covered center from the elements.

Once you’re out of the cramped space and soothed with the first inhale of nicotine, your body slowly starts to cool down. You take in the scenery as you exhale—observing all the dry land and dehydrated vegetation around you.

It’s eerily quiet as the sun enters the beginning stages of setting into the horizon. There’s so much silence that you become uncomfortable with being the only person out here, so exposed and vulnerable to whatever ominous presence that your mind thinks is watching you.

Your breathing is as shaky as your limbs. You’re barely able to hold the cigarette between your fingers due to your lack of stability.

With another slow drag from the stick, you close your eyes and let your head loll back as your car supports your weight. You breathe out and are momentarily taken away to a place in your mind that holds your peace. You channel it and allow it to lead you to your next move.

Maybe a minute or so goes by and you’re completely lost within your thoughts, going over “where to” next or what you’re going to do about living arrangements and money. It’s something you planned on figuring out after your meeting, but since you’ve been played it’s all you have left to think about.

While in your trance, you don’t notice that there’s a car speeding towards you, stirring up dust and dirt, until the loud music fills your ears. You open your eyes and turn in the direction of the highway. That’s when you see the black old school with the tinted windows, classic rock blasting through the speakers. You don’t know for sure, but your immediate guess is that it’s him.

The vehicle pulls alongside yours and comes to a stop behind the engine dies. You stand frozen, waiting for someone to climb out of the driver or passenger seat. But nothing happens, and more minutes pass.

You narrow your eyes to look inside while taking a hit from your cigarette, but you can’t see anything because the windows are too dark. A part of you wants to approach it, but you never get the opportunity.

“You shouldn’t play with those, love.”

A man’s voice breaks the thick silence, and the cigarette is snatched from your hand. Your head whips in the direction of the source. The world stops when you lay eyes on the person.

“They’re bad for you,” the man adds as he brings the cigarette to his lips. There’s no mistaking his black-painted nails or multiple piercings and tattoos.

It’s him. Jungkook is standing beside you.

Your mouth is open as you watch him inhale the entire thing in one breath until only the butt remains. He plucks it and sends it flying out of his hand then turns toward you. His body leans against your car while he takes a moment for his eyes to drink you in.

You do the same. However, the expressions on your faces differ. Jungkook’s face remains expressionless while he’s checking you out, but you, on the other hand, are nearly drooling in awe.

He’s even more breathtaking in person. He stands tall and broad, shoulders wide, and a dominance that can captivate you from miles away. He claims it all without a word spoken and that makes him even hotter, more desirable.

His features only add to your attraction to him. This new look of his has been your favorite from the start. Jungkook set standards for rock that many were too afraid to try. He ditched the dark and mysterious look and went with what he wanted.

The icy blue paired with the dark roots of his undercut is something you’d expect to clash, but he pulls it off well. His low cut allows you to see the piercings that adorn his ears, something you’d have to strain to make out on camera, but now it is presented to you up close and personal. You’d be stuck on the silver jewelry forever if there weren’t other parts of him you weren’t dying to check out.

Like the way his tongue absentmindedly pokes at his lip piercing. Or how he lifts his eyebrow slightly while he stares at you. You can’t ignore how defined his pecs are, even in his loose-fitting sweater. Or the way his jeans hug his sculpted thighs.

Immediately, your mouth starts to babble.

“Oh, fuck. It’s you… I’m your biggest fan. I love all of your music… Every song. And I—”

“Enough of that.” He waves his hand and shushes you. Your lips don’t utter another word after he’s asserted his dominance. “I came to talk about you.”

You nod and swallow back whatever it is you were going to say. It can wait, you figure. If he wants to talk about boring you, then so be it.

“So, love.” He approaches you with his hands linked behind his back. His long lashes cover most of his eyes. However, the glossiness of his orbs still give off a small glint that makes them as dreamy as they are hazy. “What’s the problem?”

Your pulse quickens as he inches closer, heart nearly bursting through your skin when his chest touches your arm. Jungkook’s body presses against you as he interrogates you. Though the weather is nice, your palms still sweat profusely. However, your composure doesn’t falter, and you look him in the eye as you speak.

“There isn’t a problem. I really do love your music and—”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” he interrupts.

Well, fuck.

Somehow, your reason for being here slips your mind. You were so excited to actually see him standing next to you, the fact that you’d have to take accountability for your actions got put on the back burner.

Nevertheless, you put on a brave face and confess your sins. Jungkook patiently waits for an answer from you.

“Well,” you start, sighing before you continue to eliminate the shakiness in your voice. “There’s still not a problem or anything on my end but I can understand you must be frustrated with my spamming.”

“I’m not tired, I’m curious, actually.”

You frown. “Why so?”

“Because…” Jungkook’s eyes roll with wonder as he pretends to be in thought. His gaze is directed toward you once he’s done. “I just wanna know how far you’ll go for attention.”

“Attention?” you repeat.

Jungkook nods.

“Yeah. It’s obvious that’s what you want. Am I right?”

“No, you’re not. That’s not why,” you reply, a bit defensive. Maybe that’s partially true, but the way he says it doesn’t sit right with you. “I just—”

“Wanted me to notice you?”

A coy smile threatens to form on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” you confess. “But it’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Well—”

“Well…”

You sigh and admit defeat.

“You’re right, I guess.”

“I am,” Jungkook scoffs. “I’m always right.”

You look straight ahead. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach because this isn’t going as planned. You spent hours practicing and perfecting each syllable only to be sideswiped by Jungkook’s wit.

He’s reading you so hard you’re scared to think too loud.

“I bet…” He shifts and positions himself in front of you, blocking your view with his body. “I bet there’s even a reason behind this.”

Jungkook gestures toward your figure with his hands, but you’re still clueless.

“My outfit?”

He agrees with a nod.

“But not just that. Everything about you… Including that recycled persona you’re rocking is nowhere near who you really are, is it?”

“No, this is me,” you deny. “I’m not sure who you expected.”

Jungkook reaches out, startling you so you jerk away. He chuckles and then proceeds to take the tiny silver crucifix hanging from your chain between his fingertips. Then he looks at you with a smirk.

“This girl,” he whispers. “That’s who I wanna meet.”

He abandons the jewelry and steps away from you. You release the breath you were holding while his back is turned. His enticing smell still lingers in the evening air, traveling through your nostrils as you inhale it deeply for remembrance.

“You bring her out, and you might get what you want,” he proposes.

Copying his phrase, you continue the banter.

“How do you know what I want?”

Jungkook turns around swiftly, creating a gust of wind as his body turns. He returns to his spot in front of you and leans down so that he’s eye level with you.

“Because I can see everything… Right down to your righteous little soul,” he informs. Jungkook’s voice drops octaves lower, giving you chills and goosebumps along your arm. “You think this is a gimmick, don’t you?”

His eyes begin to bleed black and eventually become saturated with dark ink. Your reflexes cause you to gasp, but you aren’t surprised. You know. You’ve always known.

“No, I don’t,” you answer truthfully. “I know what you are. That’s why I’m not afraid.”

You watch as his face transforms from the handsome features of a man to the characteristics of a monster. However, despite the flare of his nostrils or his clenched jaw, there’s still the same twinkle in those dark eyes, and you fall deeper for the rawness of his true identity.

“So why are you clutching that?” he questions, eyes shifting to your necklace. You didn’t realize you’d grabbed it in your state of shock. “An obedient one, you are.”

His smile grows, revealing his sharp fangs. The heat that radiates from his body has you tempted to move closer, but you hang onto your self-control. Your breath hitches as you’re suddenly met with his thick black talons, coming forward to tap your cheek.

“I like it, baby. I really do, but the thing is…” He gently drags his nail down your skin, and your eyelids flutter shut. One would naturally be afraid of such a creature, but you can’t help but find yourself intrigued by the things your parents begged you not to let in. “You can’t play for both teams.”

The warmth vanishes as he retracts, and you miss it almost immediately. You open your eyes and find him creating some distance.

“What do you think I am, love?”

You only catch the ending of what he says, entirely caught up in the way he touched you or the way his stare penetrated your soul.

“Huh?”

He laughs. “You say you know. Well, what do you know?... Who do you think I am?”

You stare at the broadness of his shoulders, getting lost again until he looks back with a raised brow.

“If you aren’t going to talk, I can leave—”

“You’re one of the fallen. A damned soul,” you quickly reply.

“Very close. But not exactly true, sweetheart.” Jungkook turns around but stays rooted to his spot. Instead, you step closer, feeling braver than before. Your hand abandons your necklace and returns to your side. Jungkook looks down at you as you approach him, his lips forming a lopsided grin.

“Really?” you ask, and he nods.

“Mhm. Bet you don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”

“No,” you answer. “I have no idea. But I’m still glad you invited me.”

“You think you’re the only pretty girl I invited?”

You bite your tongue just in time after almost throwing out an insult in retaliation for your hurt feelings. You’re not gullible; you knew, but he still didn’t have to say it.

You exhale through your nose when he begins to circle you like a shark stalking its prey. You don’t want Jungkook to know it upsets you, but something tells you he already knows it.

“Jealous little thing, huh?” he teases, his hand brushing against the bottom of your dress, gently grazing your ass. Who cares if it was intentional or not; it felt fucking great. “You want it all to yourself. I know the feeling, love.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie.

Jungkook doesn’t believe it, of course.

“Sure you do.” His hands find your shoulders, and he levels his lips with your ear. You shudder, and he feels it. The reaction brings a smirk to his face. He whispers, “You can stop me, you know?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer truthfully.

“Hm, that’s interesting.”

Jungkook’s nose finds its way to your neck. He inhales deeply and hums while his large hands run up and down your arms. Every part of his is hot to the touch so your feverish flesh is scorching due to the friction. Your knees buckle when he starts using his lips to caress you instead of his nose.

He breathes out his words, making everything he says sound vulgar and sweet.

“You think you can handle me, love?” Jungkook asks, teeth grazing your skin in the midst of his trail of open-mouth kisses.

Jungkook sways, and his crotch rubs against your lower back. You can feel his desire growing as time ticks by.

You make sure your answer is as confident as the boner in his jeans. “I know I can.”

However, Jungkook isn’t as convinced as you are.

“Well, if that’s the case… Why don’t you prove it?” he insists, amusement finding its way back into his smile.

Your body tenses when he grabs your face and forces you to look at him, knowing the effect he has on you. But no matter how sexy he looks with wet lips and lust-filled eyes, your ego doesn’t shrink.

“I can do that too,” you boast.

“Oh, I hope so, baby,” Jungkook chuckles. “You know why?”

“Why, Jungkook?”

Your stomach flips when his laughter fills your ears, his pitch lowering until it reaches a level no human is capable of forming.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to fuck up for too long.”

All you feel is his arm snake around your waist before he spins you and pins you against his car. You hiss as your breasts are being pressed against the scolding glass of his vintage masterpiece. His hips keep your lower half pinned to the vehicle while his hands grab your arms and place them on the roof.

Your thighs and chest burn from the blistering heat, but you grit through it because the way his body feels on yours takes your mind off of the pain.

Jungkook’s nose audibly inhales your flesh while his hands move down your body, lifting your dress so he can grind against your ass. They move up again and find your boobs, and he kneads both mounds in his hands.

“Fuck, you’ve been a bad girl, love,” he states. “So, so bad.”

“No I haven’t,” you smirk, rubbing your ass against his dick. “I’m an angel.”

Jungkook scoffs.

“You wish.”

He abandons your tits to give your ass some attention. You bite your lip when he separates and squeezes your folds, complimenting you on how soft it feels in his grasp.

“My, my, my…” he sighs. “Baby, this piece of ass is the only thing I’d ever thank God for.”

His praise makes you smile proudly.

“You’re so fucking soft, and so damn beautiful… I can’t wait to ruin this body. You’ve got no idea, love,” Jungkook continues.

“Show me, then. Teach me a lesson,” you challenge.

Jungkook’s menacing laugh fills your ears, and chills go through your body. Your burning skin has adapted to the searing exterior at this point.

“Sweetheart, do you know what I do to pretty girls like you out here?” One hand slips between your thighs and the other grabs your face. He lifts your head and angles it toward his dark eyes. You instantly get lost in them. “You wanna know what I do to them?”

Jungkook’s middle finger slides back and forth against your tights and lace panties, the sharpness of his nails threatening to rip the fabric strand by strand. Your lips quiver and beg for him to kiss you, but you keep focus on the conversation.

“Tell me.”

He smiles and reveals his fangs. However, it doesn’t startle you for one second. He intrigues you as much as he attracts you. You want to see more. You want to learn about who he really is.

“Well,” he starts, gently turning your head and laying it against the surface. Your shadow has blocked the sun and cooled down that portion of the vehicle so your cheek doesn’t burn like your arms and thighs did.

“It starts with desperation. No matter how hard you try, I’ll never give you a response,” he informs. “I wait. I’ll wait years if I have to.”

While he speaks, his digit teases your clit. A smirk forms on his lips when he draws a small moan from your throat. He moves to your opening and applies a small amount of pressure, threatening to break the material and enter your pussy.

“Then, whenever I feel like you’re ripe enough for me to devour, I call… And they always come running.”

“Jungkook,” you gasp when his talon pierces your clothing and tears a hole, thinking he’s going to give you what you desire. But he doesn’t, and he shushes you to silence.

“Shh. Let me finish talking, love.”

“Okay,” you whimper, trying your best to keep it together.

He whispers in your ear. “Good girl.”

You shudder when his bare fingertips actually come in contact with your heat. Your hips move for friction, but it’s not nearly enough.

Jungkook’s lips return to your neck so he can litter your skin with his teeth. The sting that comes with his bite leaves your flesh tingling and radiating with a sharp pain.

“You know what happens when I get them out here?... All alone,” he asks you, and you shake your head.

“No. I don’t.”

That’s when he admits his true intentions of messaging you back.

“First, I fuck them.”

His finger dips into your wetness and he collects your arousal. He uses it to easily glide the pad of his digit over your throbbing bundle of nerves and you instantly become mush in his arms.

“Then…”

Jungkook’s other hand grabs your throat, and his sharp black nails tap against your jugular. It’s like his vision is trained on the veins that store the blood pumping through your body. It’s impossible for you to focus on how he’s taunting you with the sharpness of his talon when he’s providing pleasure between your legs.

It gives you a rush, the thought of him tearing your skin with those dagger-like nails makes you shiver with anticipation. Your heart rate speeds up and Jungkook chuckles as if he can hear it racing. The longer his eyes watch you in this position, the more you forget about his pending statement until he reminds you.

“...I devour them.”

A shriek escapes you as his nail drags across your skin, creating a shallow cut on the left side of your neck. It isn’t deep but blood drips down your chest, nearly disappearing underneath your dress. However, Jungkook spins you around before it can reach that far.

His thick forked tongue darts out of his mouth, ready to taste whatever it can access. Your skin sizzles with heat as he drags it over your blood-stained body.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans, lifting his head to look at you. Jungkook grabs you by the neck and gives you a disapproving look, steam rising from his body and black horns casually growing from his head.

Your wide eyes watch without a single blink, too afraid you’ll miss a part of the transformation. You’re mesmerized when you should be terrified.

“I can smell everyone you’ve whored around with,” he explains, growling his words out. “And… I can taste them. This won’t do, love.”

Jungkook takes a breath and dives back in, attacking your wound with the desire to consume your blood and cleanse you of whatever he feels is bad for you. Your eyes roll, and the more he takes the more lightheaded you become. You feel as if you’re floating, and nothing can bring you down but the man that’s holding you close and robbing you of your need for survival.

It’s easy to let yourself slip away, but you’ve been high before. You know your limits, so you tap Jungkook’s shoulder to get his attention. He’s also hit with the realization of how long he’s been drinking from you and extracts himself immediately.

His face is painted red when he pulls away, but he still looks amazing. Maybe even hotter. His swollen lips are so enticing. You want to taste them so bad.

“If only you knew how good you taste now,” he whispers, licking his lips while he stares at you.

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you reach and grab his face, stealing the moment you’ve been anticipating forever. Your eyes close naturally and you don’t stop yourself from getting lost in the moment.

The first taste that lands on your tongue is the bittersweet essence of your blood. You moan into his mouth, letting him know you understand what he meant now that you’re experiencing it as well.

Jungkook’s arms pull you closer to his body. You’re enveloped in his warmth and enjoying the way his hand gives your ass squeezes of appreciation. When he smoothly slips his long-wet muscle into your crevice, you finally get the opportunity to taste him like you wanted and he literally takes your breath away.

Eventually, you both become tempted to tear each other’s clothes off, but Jungkook stops everything before it can go there.

“Hold on, love,” he requests. “Before this can happen, you need to settle this.”

Your confused expression prompts him to tap the crucifix chain around your neck. He gives you a look, and you can tell where this is going.

“You can’t be mine if you’re wearing that, baby.”

Looking down at your necklace, you contemplate whether or not you want to get rid of the jewelry you’ve had since the tenth grade. Then your attention is redirected to Jungkook’s face, and he stands there waiting for your answer.

He lifts a brow, and without another thought, you snatch the chain from your neck and allow it to fall to the ground. The flash in Jungkook’s eyes gives away his thrill. However, he still isn’t satisfied with your decision.

“You hesitated,” he comments. “I don’t like that.”

“I just wanted to be sure,” you reply in a soft voice.

“You should have known by now, love… I want you, and there’s no doubt about it.”

Jungkook’s gentle touch grazes your cheek, and you want to melt right there. Your lashes flutter as he caresses your skin, but you open your eyes once he stops and lifts your chin.

“If you want my dick inside that box of yours, you gotta redeem yourself,” Jungkook informs.

“Anything you want,” you answer right away. You don’t even recognize your voice because of its raspiness. You can barely get out your words because it keeps fading out.

“Really?” he hums, and you respond with a nod.

“Anything.”

“Well, get on your knees and pray for it then,” he requests.

You don’t hesitate this time, and you don’t bat an eye as you drop to your knees.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, but the desire to please is stronger than anything you’re feeling. You want to do your best for him. You want to be the one he chooses, the one he calls his.

“Please, Jungkook.” Your hands come together in front of you as if you’re saying a prayer. You never take your eyes off of his face and Jungkook peers down at you with a look of approval. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please forgive me.”

He says nothing so you figure he isn’t convinced.

“I can be good, I promise. Let me prove it to you,” you beg, and you can see his features soften with interest.

“I hope you’re right,” he sighs, pulling his sweater over his head.

You’re greeted with his sculpted abs before anything, and it takes self-control not to lunge for him. You have to recover quickly from the shock of how defined they are because the next thing he removes is his pants and his boxers do nothing to hide what’s resting against his thigh.

“Don’t get scared now,” he jokes when he sees your wide eyes.

You blink a few times to pull yourself together, and what he said finally registers.

“I’m not scared,” you answer.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“We’ll see,” he winks.

Jungkook’s dick stands at attention once his boxers are pulled down. Instantly, your mouth begins to water, and crave his length. You don’t mind asking for it either.

“Can I?”

He nods when he approaches you, so you wrap your hand around his cock and are greeted by thick pulsing veins. You explore it by running your hands along it, arousing him in the process unknowingly. It’s not until you hear the first string of curses leave his lips do you understand how much this turns him on.

“I wanna spit on it,” you state out of nowhere, and when you look up at his shocked expression with a smirk. “And…choke on it.”

You begin jerking him off with a twist and pull motion, adding your other hand for extra coverage. You pause to let your saliva drip onto his shaft. He moans when you start lubricating, and those lewd sounds of wetness fill his ears.

You stare at him with doe eyes, and he almost loses it, still you taunt him some more.

“Can I, Jungkook?”

He growls. “Damn it, open your fucking mouth.”

You stick out your tongue, and Jungkook slides in with a screwed-up face. He’s surprised when you suck him in instead of allowing him to shove his cock inside of you himself. Your warmth invites him in and by the time he reaches the back of your throat his hands are locked behind your head, holding you in place because he wants to be buried inside of you as long as possible.

Your spit drips down your chin and onto your chest but you continue to lubricate his dick even though it’s already saturated with your saliva. While he relishes the feeling, you reach for his scrotum and give him a gentle massage while your mouth occupies his cock.

You moan around his length, letting him know you’re ready for your throat to be fucked.

“Ready?” he asks, and you give him the best audible response you’re capable of giving in this position.

Jungkook pulls out slowly and watches how his cock comes out covered in glistening. When he’s completely out, he grabs it and taps your face, getting his precum all over your nose and mouth. Your tongue chases his arousal, and a delightful hum travels from your throat when you have a taste.

“If you need air, tap my thigh,” are the only instructions he gives you before his cock is back inside your mouth, hitting your uvula repeatedly and triggering your gag reflex. Jungkook seems to enjoy the sound of you choking on his dick, so he intentionally thrusts deeper to hear more of the lewd noises.

Your hands hold onto his thighs for support because your head is spinning from the quickness of his movements. Your knees burn from the hot ground blistering your skin, but as people always say, “no pain, no gain.”

The pain isn’t as nearly as intense as the burning in your lungs or the taste of Jungkook’s warm juices drifting down your throat each time his cock squirts out a bit of his arousal. You swallow unintentionally, and Jungkook’s dick twitches with the need to release.

“Fuck! Take it easy,” he grunts, legs trembling as he struggles to keep it together. Looking up at his face, you see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, and you know he’s too far gone to hold back. You swallow on purpose this time, and his cum begins to fill up your throat. But even when in his moment of euphoria, Jungkook still isn’t letting you off easy. “I told you to take it easy, slut.”

He pulls out of you abruptly and you start coughing as the air enters your lungs too quickly.

“Hand and knees,” he orders, pushing you towards the ground. You’re thankful your back is turned to hide the smirk on your face because you know it’d piss him off more.

You hear him shuffling behind you, probably removing the rest of his clothes because his belt hits the hard ground after a few seconds. His shadow approaches you from behind and blocks the light.

“And this has to come the fuck off,” he states while ripping off your dress. Your tights and panties are next to go, leaving you bare on the desert floor. His sharp talons crawl up your spine, and your body shivers in response. “Arch your back unless you want me to do it for you, love.”

You follow his orders, and he praises you for your ability to position your body perfectly to his preference. His hands can’t stop themselves from touching your globes. You can hear your arousal when he spreads your folds with his thumbs, looking into your opening with his mouth-watering. You bury your face in your arm because you’re sure he heard it too.

“Don’t be shy. I knew already,” he informs. Jungkook lowers his body, and his nose nuzzles itself in your slit, making you release a surprised gasp. He inhales your arousal and runs the tip of his nose up and down, covering it in your wetness. “I could smell you from down the road, baby.”

Jungkook switches up and uses his tongue to tease you. Your eyes roll back as soon as his muscle touches your sensitive clit.

“Jungkook,” you whine, but he’s too engaged with your pussy to hear.

“You taste as good as you smell. How can I not drink you dry?”

A cry gets caught in your throat. Jungkook begins to lick your pussy with no warning, emitting more lust-filled sobs from your mouth. As the sensitivity ebbs away, so does your shame, and eventually, you start grinding your cunt in Jungkook’s face. He doesn’t stop you, so your movements become more confident.

“That’s what you like, sweetheart?... You wanna fuck my tongue too?” Jungkook slurps up more of your juices before he spreads you open and taunts you with his forked tongue.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg.

He chuckles. “Well, since you asked nicely…”

When he enters your cunt, your mind goes blank. Whatever words you manage to utter are a mystery to you because your mind can only focus on the thick flexible muscle dragging against your walls.

Jungkook laughs when you clench, making it nearly impossible for him to move in your tight crevice. He squeezes your ass while his tongue squirms inside of you, making you scream his name over and over.

“Fuck! You feel good, Jungkook. I’m gonna—”

Suddenly, he withdraws.

“On my dick you will,” he says, and you groan as the disappointment sets in.

He straightens his back and inches closer while you continue to pout and mourn your robbed orgasm.

“If you thought that felt good…” he laughs. “Look, I’m just getting started, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a moment to be concerned. The tip of his cock pops in and your eyes widen. You become more alert and aware of how huge he actually is now that your pussy is slowly being stretched open by him. You’re tense, but his touch soothes you.

“Relax. Just relax,” he instructs.

He fills you inch by inch and the whole time your mouth is hanging wide open. You have a handful of dirt in each hand because you’ve been clawing to cope with the stretch. Nothing hurts but taking all of him in takes more effort than you anticipated.

Jungkook grunts as your walls squeeze around him. He’s also struggling, but he puts his eagerness aside and waits for you to adjust and mold to his girth.

“You can move,” you tell him, wanting to just get it over with.

“Are you sure—”

“Jungkook, you’re in my guts, please.”

“Okay, my bad.” He laughs but as soon as he begins to move his smile fades, and his concentration sets in.

Jungkook is gentle for as long as he can stand it, but even you grow desperate eventually. He senses that your body is craving more, and his pace quickens. His shallow thrusts travel deeper and become more powerful the longer he’s buried in your heat.

He grips your waist and starts fucking you like you’re a ragdoll. You’re taken aback but impressed by his strength. You stop trying to maintain your position because Jungkook has no problem bending you whichever way he wants you.

Soon his hand finds your ponytail. Your head jerks each time his hips crash into you. Your scalp begins to burn, but it doesn’t stop you from chasing your pleasure.

You cry Jungkook’s name when you feel a harsh slap against your ass.

“Fuck,” you sob.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” is all he replies as he delivers another blow. Your flesh prickles and stings from the impact, but the feeling of his hand palm delicately moving over the affected area feels pleasant. “Come here.”

Jungkook pulls you up with his clutch on your hair, and your back crashes against his firm chest. His cock travels deeper from this angle, leaving you babbling and sobbing as Jungkook watches with a smirk.

“I thought you were a bad girl. Now, look at you… Being a good little whore for me,” he teases. “Give me a kiss.”

You reach behind you and grab one of his horns, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss. You taste your arousal on his lips and greedily try to savor the leftover juices in his mouth. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his furrowed brows against your forehead as he concentrates on delivering accurate thrusts. Jungkook whispers permission for you to come into your mouth, and your mind shifts to chasing your release.

He leaves your lips and moves to your neck while his hands glide over your body, stopping to feel his dick piercing your lower abdomen. Your other hand interlocks with his for a bit so that you can feel it as well, but soon you have to grab his arm, so he doesn’t pound you out of his grasp.

Jungkook slaps your tit once he’s made his journey up your body, and your pleased reaction causes him to do it again. The tension building up in your core starts to become unbearable, so you warn him in advance about your orgasm threatening to sweep you off your feet.

“I’m so close, Jungkook,” you rasp. His fingers pinch your nipples to push you closer while his arm keeps you up. Your body would slump over if he didn’t because all of your strength is put into getting yourself through this intense orgasm on the horizon. “You feel so good… So fucking good.”

“I know, love. I know,” he moans in your ear. “Come on my dick if you really love it so much, baby.”

The coil snaps as soon as his name leaves your lips, and your release finally arrives in an intense wave of pleasure. Your vision becomes white and your ears ring, making it impossible for you to hear Jungkook’s whines about your pussy being too tight for him to go much longer.

His dick slips out of you as the pressure releases, and you’re gushing all over the ground below, making the soil dark as it dampens. Jungkook brings his hand in front of you and slaps your pussy to draw out more of your juices.

You fall over once your body is spent, but Jungkook rolls you over before you can flop on your face. He hovers over you and rests his weight on his forearms. His knee wedges itself between your legs, and he uses it to spread them apart.

You lay there just staring at him through your lashes, secretly looking in awe as he situates himself. He catches you in the act, but you still turn away and pretend you weren’t.

“No, no. Don’t look away,” he says. “Let me see how you cry for my dick.”

You do as he requests, and once your eyes meet each other’s, he winks.

Jungkook grabs each of your wrists and pins them by your ears. He rests his forehead on yours, so you have no choice but to look at him.

You know you shouldn’t do it like this. It’s too intimate. But you can’t deny yourself the attention you’ve been craving for so long. Finally, his eyes are on you. Only you.

“No holding back, okay?” he suggests.

“Okay.”

You don’t know how he understood your voice since it’s barely audible and raspy, but he does. Jungkook reaches between you and grabs his dick, aligning it with your opening before he slowly slides in. Your lips part to let out a cry, but nothing comes out because your voice has given out completely.

As his dick gets deeper, you spread your legs to give him more space. His tip hits your cervix by the time he bottoms out, and you can’t bear him just stilling in that spot. When your back arches, he takes the hint and starts chasing his high.

“This is what you want, right?... Eyes on you?” he grunts, thrusting into you, each snap of his hips resulting in a ripple of echoes. “You got me now, so don’t be shy.”

“Jungkook.” You moan his name, and his cock jumps inside you.

“You felt that?... That’s what you do to me, love.”

He looks down, observing the way the blunt tip of his cock can be seen penetrating lower abdomen. Both of your mouths fall open while your eyes are glued to the sight, mesmerized by how much of him you’re actually taking in.

“This pussy was made for me and only me,” he growls. When you don’t answer him, he grabs your face to get your attention. “Did you fucking hear me? It’s mine, understand?”

You nod. “Only yours, Jungkook. I promise.”

Jungkook grunts in response, but you heard it as “it better be.” His thrusts become rougher, making your back drag against the ground. You’re both covered in dirt, sweat, and blood but can’t bring yourselves to care because the sex is so good.

Heat begins to rise within you. It confuses you so you look at the demon above you for answers, and he greets you with a devilish grin.

“You said you can handle me, didn’t you?” he reminds you.

“I can.” Your voice is hoarse, and your throat is dry.

Jungkook smirks. “Time to prove it.”

You pant as Jungkook drills into you, setting your body ablaze in the process. He pulls your legs up to his waist, so you wrap them around him in an embrace.

“What do you mean?”

He whispers against your lips.

“Welcome to hell, love.”

The scream that erupts from your throat brings your voice back to its full potential. Your body is on fire, and it leaves you gasping for air. His cock continues to bring you stimulation throughout the tortuous rise and fall of the radiating heat inside of you. Your nails drag down his back, drawing feral noises from his lips.

His dick feels like it’s swelling within you, stretching you more and more until you’re screaming his name and begging him to let you release some of the pressure.

“Jungkook,” you groan through clenched teeth.

“Shh. A little more, okay?... Just a little longer.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to focus on anything but the desire burning in your gut. The intense heat becomes bearable, but the stretch still has you breathless.

“But I’m going to come,” you sob, your body no longer able to stand it.

Your walls enclose around his cock as you try to hold on, but the tightness milks Jungkook’s shaft and pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he growls.

You both reach your peaks together, and the moment causes a pause in time. For several seconds, you’re unable to register what’s going on around you. Your mind is blank, and your focus is only on the pleasure rippling through your body.

You’re on fire, but it’s not unpleasant. You feel everything you’ve craved from all the drug use and drinking, the meaningless sex, and the dangerous lifestyle you ran to when you wanted nothing more than to feel secure and wanted.

That’s how you feel as his arms slip underneath you and embrace you, like you’re being protected by someone who actually gives a shit. It’s not real; he’s only caught in the moment, but you’re going to pretend like it is because that’s exactly what it feels like.

You hold onto the feeling for as long as you can, but nothing lasts forever, and soon you both begin to come down from your high.

Jungkook’s cum is still painting your walls when his body slumps over. He leaves lazy kisses across your chest but stops to gently suck on your nipples, soothing you until his dick softens and slips out of you.

In your post-orgasmic daze, you feel him kiss his way down your body. He ends his journey at your thighs and then rises to his feet, leaving you on the ground for a minute to regain some strength. His cum slowly leaks out of you, pooling beneath you and seeping into the soil.

You open your eyes after a few minutes and find him standing over you with his jeans already on although his sweater is still off. His eyes have returned to what is considered human-like. However, his horns remain present.

“You need help?” he asks rather dryly.

“Please,” you whisper, and he leans over to help you up. Once you’re on your feet you stand in front of him awkwardly, arms covering your body as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you. “So… Is this it?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge as he cranes his neck in shock.

“You wanna die? Get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

Oh.

You almost forgot about the talk you had with him before. Jungkook didn’t want to meet with you. He only wanted your soul.

Before leaving home, you’d probably give it to him willingly. You weren’t really living anyway.

But after traveling on the road and exploring new places, you’d like to stick around a little longer, see the world your parents told you to be afraid of but in the right ways this time.

Still, you didn’t think this encounter would end like this. Are you really supposed to just move on?

“Okay, well. Goodbye then, I guess. I should probably clean this anyway,” you reply and fake laugh. Your wound is pretty sore though, but tolerable. You’d bear it for a few more minutes if you had them.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods instead.

You turn towards your car and take your exit. Almost halfway there, a pair of gentle hands grab your waist.

“Wait,” he says. His voice is so soft. If it weren’t so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You left something.”

When you turn around, Jungkook stands behind you with your chain in his palm.

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want it, but I’ll take it off your hands,” you say before giving him a small smile.

You take the jewelry and prepare to leave once more, but Jungkook interrupts you again.

“How come you’ve never been to a show?” he quizzes. “You say you’re a huge fan. I’ve never seen you at a show before.”

You sigh, resting your weight on your right side with folded arms.

“Well, I lived with my parents before I dropped everything and left a few days ago. They’re very religious and would never buy me a ticket to that type of event. I’ve been saving up, but now…”

“You need it to survive?”

You nod. “Exactly.”

Silence falls over you, and no one makes a move. You’re about to tell him you need to get dressed and hit the road before nightfall, but he beats you to it.

“I’ll get going now. I—”

“You wanna hear a song I’ve been working on?”

“Uhh…” You’re taken by surprise, but you’d be honored to hear anything he shares with you. “Sure, Jungkook. I’d love that.”

He gestures for you to follow him to his car. You start getting paranoid midway because about an hour ago he wanted to kill you. However when he reaches inside his car and pulls out a leather jacket for you to wear, your nerves start to settle.

“It’s going to cool down when the sun sets,” he informs.

Jungkook helps you put on the jacket, and you’re instantly met with his scent. While his back is turned, you secretly inhale deeply to savor the smell.

After he grabs his guitar, you both walk to the front of his vehicle and he helps you sit on the hood, making sure it isn’t too hot before you take a seat. You’re shocked by his sudden caring nature, but you don’t complain.

“Thank you,” you state after he hands you his flask.

You bring it to your lips and to take a gulp but are hit with a pungent smell of alcohol.

“It’s whiskey.”

“Fucking hell, it is,” you agree with a grimace. You decide to sip on it instead of aiding your thirst.

“I’m not human so I don’t have water,” he explains. “Sorry.”

“Oh no, this is fine,” you assure.

After a nod, he walks away and sits on a small boulder sitting about three feet away from his car. He gets settled and then his fingers begin to strum the strings of his guitar. The music sways him back and forth, and he allows it to guide him with closed eyes. Just as you’re also caught in the trance, he starts singing.

The voice that you hear isn’t paired with a loud audience or a band crashing in the background. It’s just him and the most graceful voice you’ve ever heard.

Tears form in your eyes hearing the lyrics. They’re so raw and filled with emotion, a side of him you’ve never seen before. He talks about how scary it is to feel. To care. To love. How he’s never experienced any of it before, but a part of him feels like it’s time to explore it.

You’re so moved by the final note that you’re startled when the music stops, and you no longer hear his voice. You dry your eyes and look at him with so much admiration.

The warm tones of the setting sun makes his skin appear to glow; he’s breathtaking. You wish that he knew that too.

“That was beautiful,” you tell him. “Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

He sets down his instrument and walks over to you, situating himself between your thighs.

“You’re the only one I’ve shared it with,” he replies. His eyes and tone hold sincerity, and what you believe is gratitude. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course, babe. I’d listen anytime. You’re such an inspiration to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully.

Jungkook rests his hands on your thighs and looks off into the distance as if he’s thinking. You can see wheels turning in his head but have no idea how to get him to speak his mind. You’ll just have to wait, but not for long.

“I’ve never been human,” he starts, taking the flask and drinking all the liquor before he continues. “I used to not feel anything but now… I guess I should say you all have changed me.”

You don’t say anything, but you nod to let him know you’re listening.

“In case you didn’t get that, I’m trying to say that I have feelings for you. You’ve grown on me,” he adds, and your mouth falls open to speak.

However, nothing comes out.

“I know you just wanted to fuck me and get a few pictures, but I couldn’t let you leave without—”

You interrupt him by pulling him close and crashing your lips into his. You couldn’t take it anymore. You knew if anything was going to happen, you’d have to be the one who took initiative. Jungkook’s probably never had anyone who truly cared about him. You plan to show him what that feels like.

You retract and look at him, saying what’s been on your mind since you saw him.

“I think you’re amazing and talented…and beautiful. You deserve love or whatever it is you desire because you inspire so many to know their worth. It’s your turn to take your advice.”

“Hit the road with me,” he blurts out.

You blink. “What?”

“Hit the road with me, let me learn everything about you… Be mine. That’s what I desire.”

Your mind races as his words play in the back of your head. You’re speechless. Jungkook, a demon and the world’s biggest rockstar, just asked for permission to take you on a journey with him. You don’t know his motives or his plan, but the hopefulness in his eyes tell you he put a lot on the line asking that of you.

“It’s just that I want you to be cautious out there because I care about you…I think?” he tries to explain. “I just want to make sure you’re safe and I can only do that if…”

“I’m with you.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, eyes brighter than the sun. “So what do you say?”

You shrug. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

You push him and hop off the car with a shriek, almost busting your ass.

“I said let’s go, Jungkook!... Before I change my mind,” you wink.

The demon seems shocked by your answer, but he keeps his promise.

And…he takes you on a trip of a lifetime.

Epilogue…

“I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

Jungkook stands in the doorframe of his backstage dressing room with folded arms. He’s angry with you, but as soon as his eyes land on your hand caressing your growing belly, he can’t stop his smile from breaking free.

He sighs and shakes his head, walking across the room to his vanity where you sit waiting for him. This is the first time you’ve had to sit out on a tour since you officially became a couple, and needless to say the downtime has gotten the best of you.

“You’re supposed to be at home with your feet up,” he chides, helping you stand even though you’re perfectly capable of doing so yourself.

Jungkook has pampered you all six months of this pregnancy, but sometimes he goes to the extreme.

“Yeah, but…”

You pause when he pulls you in for a warm hug and take the opportunity to inhale the fragrance lingering on his clothes. You giggle when he playfully threatens you about stealing his clothes, but you’ve already tucked a t-shirt in your purse.

“I'd rather be here with my legs up, you know?” you continue saying as you separate.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but then his shock is replaced with a tiny smirk.

“You better be careful what you wish for, love,” Jungkook warns.

“And what if I don’t?... Will I be punished?”

Your taunting causes his grin to fade. In a split second, you’re lying on the couch with Jungkook hovering over you. He carefully leans in for a kiss, being extra cautious of your stomach.

“I can hear his heartbeat,” he says in between kisses, shifting so he can place his hand on your stomach.

“You mean her heartbeat?” you correct.

Your baby’s foot finds his palm instantly, and Jungkook’s mood brightens even more.

“Yeah, the jury’s still out on that one.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, lifting your shirt and finding the waistband of your leggings.

His fingers trace the fabric before he ultimately slips his hand inside, moving aside your panties next. You grab his arm when his fingers touch your center, alerting him of your sensitivity. He takes it slow and waits for the feeling to become less intense.

“I missed you,” he whispers. “Both of you.”

“We missed you too, daddy.”

Jungkook leaves a kiss on your cheek, and then he moves to your neck, tracing the barely visible scar that his talon left on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Jungkook’s changed a lot since the day you met him. Emotions and feelings he’s never had have revealed themselves over time. It was scary for him at first, but now, he’s not afraid to let you know what he’s feeling.

You laugh at him through your sighs of pleasure. “You’re getting soft on me, I see.”

“You think so?” he asks.

“I know, and besides… You’re sorry for that and not putting me on lockdown for nine months?”

“But this is your fault,” he insists, smiling against your skin.

“Really? Don’t you remember what you said when I told you I was ovulating?”

He denies, so you grab his hair and force him to look at you.

“Just the tip, love… You feel so good. I can’t pull out tonight.”

He doesn’t respond because he knows you’ve made your point. Your moans fill the room when he applies pressure to your clit without warning.

“Jungkook, your fingers are freezing!”

“Warm them up then, love—”

“Dude, we’ve been looking all over for you. You’re on stage in 5,” Jungkook’s manager, Billy, says after bursting through the door. He’s unaware of what he interrupted until he peers over and sees you both on the couch. “I am so sorry.”

Jungkook’s eyes become pitch black, and an angry vein protrudes from his forehead. You already know what’s about to happen, so you do your best to calm him down.

“Be nice, baby,” you plead.

Everyone always says you have Jungkook wrapped around your finger, so now and then, you like to pull your “status card.”

He takes a deep breath, and he relaxes. But only for a moment.

“Well, I’m kind of busy. If you haven’t noticed,” he answers, looking at the older male.

Jungkook’s digits continue to stimulate you, but you know it’s only to suppress his anger. His biggest pet peeve is to be interrupted when he’s in the middle of something with you.

He returns his attention to you and gives you a wink, but a second later, his joy fades.

“I understand, but what do I tell the fans—”

“You’ll tell them I’m backstage fucking my pregnant wife, and that I’ll be out in a bit. I’m sure they’ll understand,” he seethes, making your face heat up. However, your cunt still clenches everytime he uses the “W”-word. “Okay, leave!”

Billy shuffles his way out of the door and closes it behind him, leaving you and Jungkook alone again. When he turns to you again, you can see why his manager ran.

“Someone’s horny,” you joke.

“Tell me about it… Where did we leave off?” His fingers move down to your entrance, and he slowly slips one of them in. “Oh, yeah. Squeeze my fingers like you just did and warm them up for me.”

Your body wants you to just lie there and let him finger you until you’re coming all over his digits, but every ounce of brat in you wants to make him suffer.

“What if I rather keep something else warm?” you suggest with a smug expression.

“Hm, like what?”

You reach between you and unbutton his jeans. You pull him closer and bite his earlobe before saying,

“Recite your commandments and I might show you.”

Jungkook gulps.

“I shall place no other God before you….”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #k-vanity #kbucketlist #bangtanbathhouse #btsdreamcourt #bangtansorciere #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #sugakookitty

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sickstag · 2 months

Text

JACK, HE/HIM, 18, TRANSMALE

18+ BLOG. Have age displayed in bio or you will be blocked.

This is a horny side blog and is open to every identity. I heavily encourage sending DM’s / Asks, dirty or not. Let me know what’s going on in that pretty little puppybrain of yours.

When referring to me/ my body, I don’t have a preference for masculine or feminine terms

I’m a switch who’s both top and dom leaning but I do still have submissive moments on here (I am a major brat) and am open to asks/ messages from doms <3 a lot of the time I’ll still want to top when I’m being submissive, or bottom when I’m feeling dominant, my position doesn’t always correlate to the sexual dynamic.

DNI-

🐑Scat

🐑Zoo/ Pedo

🐑Raceplay

🐑’Men DNI’ blogs

🐑Transmisogynists

KINKS-

⛪️Age difference/ Size difference

⛪️Petplay

⛪️Light Humiliation/ Masochism

⛪️Primal Play

⛪️Breeding

⛪️Knotting

⛪️Cockwarming

⛪️Praise AND Light Degradation

⛪️Brats <3

⛪️Dumbification

⛪️Overstim

⛪️Intox (alcohol)

⛪️CNC

⛪️Impact Play

⛪️Doctor kink

⛪️Gunplay

Etc

Taken anons: 🦊🐶💋🐾 🧶🦌🦮🌵🌷🐰🤖✨🥩🐈‍⬛🦋🌸💫🌹😇⭐️’🐑🍓’🥛🦴🩰🐙’🧟🖤’

Names I like to be called: Master - Daddy - Jack - Sir

If you’d like to try and dom me, you can call me: Pup - Mutt - Doggy - whatever gets you off most.

Names I like to call others: Dolly, Darling, Sweet thing, Mutt, Pup/ Puppy, Kit (like a fox), Pet, Sweetheart, etc

P.s

I have a tendency to open tumblr and immediately close it, meaning I forget to respond. If you haven’t received a response from me in some time, or my responses are slow, you haven’t done anything wrong. Send me a follow up message.

#intro

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n0cturna1-m3 · 1 year

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Good Boy | Bottom Simon "Ghost" Riley x Top Male Reader | Smut

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Descriptions of wounds, medical descriptions, blood (non sexual), anal fingering, hand jobs, multiple orgasms, smut is short bc i got impatient, probably masochism

A/N; This was inspired by a post i saw but i forgot the link so good luck 🙏 enjoy because im just glad this is FINISHED bc i was stuck man

3.4k words

Y/N was in the middle of scrubbing his hands clean in preparation for whichever unlucky soul was to walk through the door of the medical unit next. He had a pit in his stomach from a messy and unfavourable amputation, but he swallowed it down, splashing his face with cold water before drying his hands.

The door fumbled open and two familiar faces stepped in, one with a limp and a makeshift tourniquet while the other supported him.

“Soap, Ghost. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Y/N teased, walking over to them and eyeing them up, specifically Ghost and the blood-soaked pant leg on his right thigh.

“L.T. got in a spot of trouble and ended up with this monster. We did what we could but figured you’d appreciate the visit,” Soap said. Y/N hummed and outstretched his arms.

“I’ll take him from here.” Soap hummed and transferred Ghost to his waiting arms, supporting him against his side with a strong arm around his waist and slinging Ghost’s arm over his shoulders. He had nearly melted into Y/N’s warmth.

Since his first encounter with the medic, who usually accompanied them on the field but was set back for this particular mission, he had felt comfortable around him. Strangely so. He would often find himself in Y/N’s lithe fingers, whether it be fishing out a bullet or patching up a few bruises and cuts. He felt a little warmer around him. Y/N would always treat him kindly after patching him up, putting time aside to aid him in cleaning the wound and other things. The gestures always left Ghost feeling giddy, and eager to be pampered by Y/N the next time he was to be injured. It occasionally left Ghost’s subconscious to make him a little less cautious, a subtle urge to be hurt just enough to see the warm, wide smile that Y/N often sported around him.

Y/N was always more than happy to care for Ghost. He was quiet and didn’t cause trouble, stomached through whatever he had to without whining about it. Not only being a favourable patient, but he also was charming and his sense of humour was just as dark as the rest of him, and Y/N couldn’t have found it any more attractive if he tried. Ghost was good company, and Y/N often found himself in his presence when he was able. A subtle fascination in both parts.

“So, how’d you get this?” Y/N asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves and a mask.

“Got caught off guard, bastard dragged me down and dragged his knife down,” Ghost responded, watching Y/N gather various things from his little station.

“Mm, doesn’t sound fun,” he said. He turned around and grabbed a large pair of shears, pulling a rolling tray table with him. “You wanna be up or down?”

“I’d prefer to sit up,” Ghost said. He shifted where he sat as Y/N pulled a stool in front of him and sat down. He pulled Ghost’s legs open and eyed the tourniquet, Ghost’s breath hitching from the action. He felt vulnerable with Y/N hunched over between his legs, albeit for a laceration.

“I’m gonna take this off, then I’ll have to cut open your trousers to get the wound easier,” Y/N explained as he placed the shears between his knees before reaching up to fumble with the knot. He undid it quickly, tugging off the device and tossing it to the side. He grabbed the shears again and pulled at the sticky, blood-soaked fabric that clung to Ghost’s skin. He flinched as the cold metal of the scissors touched his skin, the rather loud sound of the fabric parting filling their little corner as Y/N sliced open the pants and pulled them open. He had to roll up his boxers a bit to see the entirety of the wound.

Finally getting a good look at the laceration, Y/N grimaced slightly. It was very red, dried and wet blood mixing grotesquely. It was about 7 centimetres long and more than 4 centimetres deep, the muscle throbbing painfully.

“Good news, it’s not infected yet,” Y/N said as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and a wad of gauze. “Bad news, this is gonna hurt like a bastard.”

Without warning, Y/N dumped the liquid onto the wound, immediately pressing the gauze to it. He always did things swiftly and abruptly when it came to quick and painful actions, and Ghost was one of the poor victims of this borderline assault. Ghost grunted in pain, one hand shooting out and grabbing Y/N’s wrist tightly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he winced, closing the cap to the alcohol.

“Give me a warning next time, you arse,” Ghost growled, gritting his teeth. He loosened his grip on Y/N’s wrist and gave him a warm smile of gratitude. It made Ghost’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N worked quickly on wiping the area tenderly and preparing a syringe of a numbing solution.

“You ready?” he asked, looking into Ghost’s pretty brown eyes.

“I s’pose so,” he grumbled back.

“Do you want something to bite?”

Ghost thought for a moment and shook his head, instead grabbing the edges of the bed and squeezing. Y/N mumbled something under his breath and carefully grabbed a chunk of muscle from Ghost’s thigh and inserted the needle. He grunted at the sting and the warm feeling of the numbing agent seeping under his skin.

“It’ll take a few minutes to start working,” Y/N said, discarding the needle and syringe in a contaminant container. Y/N sat back on his stool in front of Ghost and looked at him. “You know,” he started, scanning Ghost’s vest. He reached for it and began removing it. “For someone so careful on the field, you sure do seem to come to me often.”

Ghost helped him remove his vest and discarded it beside him.

“Why do you think that is, Y/N?” he inquired, tilting his head at Y/N. He gave him a Cheshire grin.

“You want my honest answer?”

“Well, now I'm not sure.” He had a small smirk under his balaclava and mask, but the slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes gave him away.

“I think that you're quite fond of me, lieutenant.”

Ghost stared at him for a moment, biting his lip nervously. “What are you implying?” he finally asked.

“You’ve got a soft spot for me,” Y/N responded. He poked beside the wound with his finger and glanced at Ghost. “Does that hurt?”

“Can’t feel a thing.”

“Good.” He grabbed a needle and thread and began quickly suturing a laceration closed while Ghost watched him.

His fingers were nimble as he worked, and the stitches weren't sloppy. He quickly finished stitching him up and secured the end with a knot.

“There you go, big guy. All stitched up,” he said, patting Ghost’s good thigh. Ghost looked at him longingly, his mind wandering for a moment. “What’s with those puppy eyes?”

He blinked and stopped breathing for a moment. Y/N was in between his legs, his elbows on each of Ghost’s knees with his hands and forearms dangling between his thighs.

“What?” he asked dumbly. Y/N let out a breathy laugh and lifted a hand to motion towards his face.

“You look like a puppy with your big eyes,” he said. Ghost stared at him, a sudden pang in his chest of worry. “It’s cute.”

“Thank you,” Ghost said quickly. He leaned forward and Y/N smiled at him again.

“Do you want help getting to your room?” Ghost definitely didn't need help in walking to his room. He was more than capable of returning by himself. But the thought of Y/N’s arm around him made him feel warm inside. He nodded, and Y/N stood up, quickly discarding his gloves. He grabbed Ghost’s vest in one arm and helped him up with the other. Ghost draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulders, and Y/N grabbed his hand to pull more of his body weight onto him. “Christ, you’re feckin’ heavy.”

“All the more to love,” Ghost blurted, his ears burning at the realisation of what he said. Y/N snickered and held his waist tighter. Ghost held in a grunt and grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.

The walk to the Living Barracks was slow and tedious, as Ghost seemed to be making Y/N’s job much harder. Y/N stumbled through the door to Ghost’s room and sighed in exasperation. It was tidy, with minimal decoration and two beds on either wall. The right side had a metal wardrobe pushed against it, slotting between the bed and the wall. The left side had a desk and chair with scattered papers and pens on it.

“Who sleeps with you?” Y/N asked as he walked to the right side, assuming it was his because of the black balaclava on a small side table beside the tidy bed. Y/N sat him down and sighed in relief, walking to the desk and placing Ghost’s vest on it.

“Nobody,” he said, watching as Y/N sat on the bed opposite of him. He hummed and looked back at Ghost.

“Your room is nicer than mine. We have bunk beds, and he’s a loud sleeper. He stole the top bed and tosses and turns, so it squeaks constantly. and He’s messy,” Y/N ranted. He tapped his fingers against the mattress. His eyes wandered the room to familiarise himself with the space. There was a small window in between the beds, a curtain cutting most of the light. “Oh, that’s right.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Your pants,” he said, standing up to walk to the wardrobe.

“I can dress myself, it’s fine,” Ghost responded, getting off his bed and moving towards it. Y/N huffed as he watched him open the door and rummage through it.

“You wanted help getting here,” Y/N began, walking up behind ghost and placing his hands on his shoulders, “but you seem to be walking fine.”

Ghost faltered in grabbing a pair of sweatpants, his fingers twitching around the fabric as he was caught in his lie.

“You should shower,” Y/N said, stepping away from Ghost and instead sitting on his bed. “You smell like death.” Ghost scoffed and grabbed a black t-shirt, a pair of socks, a bar of soap, and a towel. Y/N grabbed the balaclava from the side table and tossed it to him. He mumbled thanks and walked out the door, pausing before closing it.

“Will you be here when I come back?” he asked.

Y/N chuckled and said, “Sure, big guy.”

The door closed, and he flopped back on the bed, stretching out his limbs before going limp and closing his eyes. Ghost quickly made his way to the showers and turned on the bright lights of the empty room, placing his clothing on a bench. He quickly stripped himself of his dirty clothes and discarded his balaclava and mask, taking his towel and bar of soap with him to a stall and shutting the curtain. He turned the knob and ice-cold water poured out of the shower head.

Flinching at the cold water that hit his skin, Ghost took a shaky breath and dropped his head to let it wet his hair. His wound was still somewhat numb, but the ache was starting to settle in. The water washed away the grime of his mission, and it left Ghost feeling content. He rubbed the soap between his hands to gather some of the foam and began washing his body, a rising heat settling in his stomach rapidly.

“Fuck…” he moaned breathlessly, running a hand down his stomach to stroke his half-hard cock slowly.

Y/N waited patiently for Ghost to return, fumbling with his fingers while scanning the room. He hummed and sat up to take off his scrubs, pulling the top over his head and leaving a tight, long-sleeved turtleneck. He left his pants on, seeing as they were more like sweats rather than uncomfortable shirts.

He flopped back on Ghost’s bed and sighed. He’s gonna use up all the hot water at this rate, Y/N thinks. The door finally opens and Ghost walks in, his eyes clean of the makeup that usually covers them.

“Took you long enough,” Y/N snorts. Ghost huffs and sits down on the foot of his bed. “It’s dark out now, you really do take a while.”

“I don’t usually,” he said, eyeing Y/N as he sat up and moved to lean on the wall with his legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

“Ah! I just remembered.” Y/N sat up and grabbed his shirt from the floor, reaching into the breast pocket and pulling out a small tube. “Take off your pants.”

“What?” Y/N raised his eyebrows at him.

“I want to put this on the wound. It’ll help numb it a bit and work as an antibiotic,” he said. “Do you not want it or..?”

Suddenly Ghost’s stitches were throbbing painfully. Something to numb it, even slightly, had him immediately perk up.

“No, no I want it,” he grumbled, sitting up and shuffling his sweats down his thighs, pulling them to be just above his knees. “That good enough?”

“Yup.”

Y/N crouched between Ghost’s legs again, rolling his boxers up his thigh. Ghost felt himself twitch at the feeling of Y/N’s cold hands on his skin, leaving a warm burning sensation in their wake.

He opened the cap and poured a generous amount of the ointment onto his pointer and index finger, closing it and setting it beside Ghost before tenderly smearing it onto the wound. Ghost watched him nervously, silently praying that the other man wouldn’t be able to hear his heart pounding in his chest, or in his-

“You okay?” Y/N asked, snapping Ghost out of his head.

“Yeah,” he said. His thighs were trembling slightly, and Y/N gazed up at him with a twinge of suspicion.

“Are you sure?” he prodded, splaying his hands flat on either of Ghost’s thighs while looking up at him. Ghost nearly gasped at the contact. It wasn’t much, but to him, it felt like the most intimate moment in his life.

“I-” Ghost sputtered. Y/N’s expression shifted to that of curiosity. “Yeah,” he croaked.

Y/N hummed and rubbed Ghost’s thighs with his thumbs before letting one hand reach up to hold Ghost’s chin.

“Okay then,” He pulled away from Ghost entirely and stood up, “I’ll be leaving then. It’s about time for dinner,” he said, walking towards the door.

Ghost reached out and grabbed one of Y/N’s forearms, the latter turning to look at him with faux disinterest.

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Y/N mocked, facing Ghost again and grinning down at him like a wolf.

“Fuck, don’t leave me like this, you bastard,” he rasped.

Y/N smiled and placed himself between Ghost’s legs again, setting his hands on his thighs. He reached up to push Ghost’s balaclava up to his nose and leaned in, their lips brushing together and breaths mixing.

“Tell me to kiss you,” Y/N said, resting his fingertips on Ghost’s jaw. His breath hitched and he brought his hand up to hold the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Kiss me.” Y/N quickly pressed his lips against Ghost’s, humming with contentment as his eyes fluttered shut. He tilted his head slightly and guided Ghost to lay on his back, pinning him against the bed with his body.

Y/N pulled Ghost’s pants down completely and tossed them to the side before rubbing his inner thigh, just beside his wound. He moved his hand to palm at Ghost’s cock through his boxers before sliding it under the fabric. He touched him lightly, just grazing his fingertips over his length.

Ghost grunted and bit Y/N’s lip, pulling at it with his teeth and licking it after. He winced and let his mouth hang open, Ghost taking the opportunity to let his tongue slide into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Y/N mumbled, closing his hand around Ghost’s cock. He began stroking him slowly, rubbing the tip and collecting the precum that gathered there, spreading it down his shaft.

Rutting up into Y/N’s hand, Ghost moved his hands to grab at his shirt, pulling him against himself even more, a silent plea to be closer. Y/N obliged by removing himself from Ghost’s lips, instead planting kisses on his neck and letting his other hand run down to join his other around Ghost’s cock.

Ghost moaned as Y/N locked his fingers around his dick and started fist-fucking him, a burning sensation spreading from the head of his cock to the pit of his stomach. He bared his neck for Y/N, the latter digging his teeth into the pale flesh. Red teeth marks paired with deep maroon hickeys quickly littered his skin.

His breath hung heavy as he approached orgasm, rolling his hips up into Y/N’s tight grip. He dug his fingers into Y/N’s hair and pulled, holding his breath when he came, thick white strips spilling from the head of his cock and covering his stomach. Some of it reached as high as his chest from how hard he came.

“Ah, fuck,” he whimpered. Y/N continued to work his hands up and down his erection despite the overstimulation. “Wait a minute, please.”

Y/N hummed and kissed his cheek, slowly stopping and removing his hands from Ghost’s flushed cock. His chest heaved as he attempted to regain his breath while Y/N ran his hands up and down his torso, spreading his cum on his skin.

He pulled away from Ghost and hoisted his lower half onto his lap, taking in the sight of his stretched hole. He took his cum covered fingers and pressed them against Ghost’s entrance, slowly pushing them inside. The slight burn of the mostly dry stretch left him breathless, clenching around him and moaning. Y/N gazed at Ghost’s ass, utterly enthralled with the way he squeezed him.

“Fuck, do you even know how sexy you are?” Y/N asked. The blush under Ghost’s mask told a thousand stories, and he almost wanted Y/N to see it. To see how his words affected him. How he affected him just by being HIM.

“Stop,” he muttered. Y/N curled his fingers in response, brushing his prostate. “Ah, shit, right there,” he moaned.

Y/N smiled at him and pressed against the soft spot inside of him, pushing Ghost closer to the edge once more. He leaned down to kiss him again, softly and slowly. Ghost grabbed at Y/N’s shoulder as he neared orgasm again, pulling him into a tight hug.

Tears welled in his brown eyes, the heat in his groyne spreading rapidly through his core again.

“Shit, oh, fuck,” he gasped, his little breathy moans being swallowed up by Y/N’s mouth and tongue. “Fuck!” He was crying now, hot tears spilling from his eyes. He threw his head back and slapped a hand over his mouth, Y/N taking the invitation to suck more hickeys onto his skin. His other hand moved to stroke his dick again, pulling at it languidly. It was wet and hot, practically burning in his hand.

“You gonna cum?” Y/N asked. Ghost nodded, digging his fingers into his cheeks. “Good boy…”

That alone was enough to send him over the edge. Ghost curled into himself and shook as he came again, a cry ripping from his throat. Y/N continued his motions, slowly jerking him off and thrusting his fingers in and out while kissing his neck.

“Such a good boy,” he praised. His breath tickled. Ghost’s chest heaved rapidly as he came back down to earth, legs shaking. Y/N sat up and removed his hands from Ghost’s body, admiring him from where he sat. His eyes wandered to his stitches, and he winced at the sight of the angry red wound. “You nearly burst your stitches.”

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matryosika · 2 years

Text

𝗢𝗧𝟴: 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀.

Wordcount — 6,295 words.

Includes — Mentions of gangbangs, somnophilia, impregnation kink, cuckolding, petplay, (❗) omorashi [it only appears in Minho's section and the title is bolded in red, for those who might want to skip it], anal sex, multiple partners, exhibitionism, graphoerotica, pain (therefore, masochism), bondage, mind break, facefucking, drool/spit kink, temperature play, sensory deprivation, sexual corruption, dacryphilia, edging, choking, humiliation and orgasm denial/ruined orgasm. Overall, most of the scenarios include oral sex, creampies, penetrative sex, use of petnames and a few dirty dialogues.

Author's Note — Please remember that English it's mot my first language! I wrote this as a way to ease my writer's block, and this is my take on which kinks/fantasies I believe each member might have! This is not proofread so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced.

Bang Chan

Gangbangs

I don’t see Chan as someone selfish or possessive when it comes to you. As long as he is sure the relationship is stable and the communication between both parties is clear, Chan doesn’t mind sharing. Of course, he wouldn’t share you with just anyone —he is very selective when it comes to granting someone a privilege like you are. But when he is sure his relationship is stable enough to perform such practice, and he has a few people in mind who would be down to it, Chan really enjoys gangbangs.

I really see him as the first one to bring the topic up. Whether he isn’t sure if you are into those things or not, I feel like he would actually be the one to propose it.

Chan really thrives on pleasuring you, he really does, so the idea of being able to fuck you while another pair of hands are touching your body and making you feel good it’s enough to drive him to the edge. However, a threesome wouldn’t be enough for him —he needs to see you being pleasured in all the ways possible. And by that I mean having him inside your cunt, while someone else’s fingers are working on your clit and some other’s mouth is all over your breasts, sucking on your nipples and making you squirm. On top of that, the idea of someone fucking your ass and someone else fucking your mouth while he gets to fuck your sweet, wet pussy drives him insane.

Watching you being used by all of his good friends and overwhelmed with pleasure is such a turn on for him,

Somnophilia

Oh, he's definitely into somnophilia. For sure. But instead of him getting to fuck you in your sleep, he wants you to do it.

Perhaps it’s the “free use” aspect of it that he really likes, but the idea of you sneaking underneath the blankets just to press your body tightly against him, or touch him while he is sleeping, is something he would really like to try.

There’s not really a way of putting this kink on the table in a casual conversation, and even the thought of having to voice the words I want you to use my body while I’m sleeping makes him nervous. But one night, when he feels your hand teasing the hems of his shorts while he is almost falling asleep, the words come out of him so casually you have a hard time understanding what he wants.

But really, it is not that hard to understand. Chan wants you to touch him while he is asleep, he wants you to wake him up with your hands around his girth as it grows bigger under your grip. He wants you to suck him off while he lets out quiet and raspy whimpers, trying to differentiate if he is dreaming or if you are really going down on him while he isn’t fully conscious.

Perhaps it’s a weird practice, but once you do it, you start getting the appeal of it. Having him bare-faced and half naked in your bed, with his cock hard and leaking precum, all while he is still asleep really gets you going too.

Impregnation

Chan's instincts get the best of him during sex. Not only he becomes more primal, but it would seem as if his inhibitions go away as his arousal increases. To be honest, Chan never fully realized he had such a kink until he got to come inside you for the first time ever. You were on the pill and, as far as you two were concerned, it was safe —but, in the meantime, all Chan could think about what if it wasn't. While you two were fucking, it was inevitable for Chan to think about getting to come inside you on your most fertile days perhaps with the only purpose of getting you pregnant. Later on, he realized the thrill wasn't really about getting to come inside you but what it all represented —the ultimate act of love and dominance, being sure that a part of him is still inside you even though he is not around.

On top of that, I kind of see Chan as someone who acts animalistic during sex. When you tease him by telling him you are in those days (fertility window), something sparks within him —the need to be fucking you every hour of those days, filling your cunt with cum and making sure you don’t waste any drops of it.

Sometimes, all Chan wants everyone to know what you do when you are with him, and how good you are for even allowing him to come inside you. And what better way to tell the world that he is fucking you good than bearing his child?

Minho

Cuckolding

When it comes to pleasing you, Minho knows he is the best. He knows you well enough, knows your weak spots and knows exactly what to do every time to make your body react the way he wants to. He knows that no one will ever get close to how skillful he is when it comes to you, and he is not afraid to prove that to you and the world.

It started off innocently, when you confessed to him that you found Changbin attractive —far from making him jealous, it aroused curiosity in him. For a reason beyond him, that night he jerked off to the thought of Changbin fucking you in his bed —rough, primal and messy. In his fantasy, he was sitting right in front of the bed, with his hard cock inside his fist and his eyes fixed on you and his friend.

He wasn’t ashamed of such a preference, but it wasn’t something he would willingly bring to the table —there wasn’t really a way to deliver the news that he was crazily fantazising about you fucking other men while he got to watch.

But when he did, when he told you all about his secret fantasy, you felt curious too.

Later on you understood the appeal —there was something filthy in getting fucked in front by the one you loved the most, in the way your hazy eyes fixed on him wile another men fucked your tight cunt under your boyfriend’s orders.

Because when Minho wasn’t quietly grunting and jerking off to the scene, he would boss the other man around —whether it was his friend or another person you two found to bring into the mix, Minho sometimes enjoyed giving them orders regarding how to fuck you.

At the end of the day, he knew that no one could do it like he can.

Petplay

When it comes to him, this kink doesn't reduce itself to calling you pet names such as kitten, bunny or puppy.

Minho really likes to take things further with this kink, by buying you pretty collars with your own name plate, leashes, other accessories and a pretty cage of your own. The thing with pet play, for him, is humiliation and proof of your submission —he gets hard at your obedience, at how you would do anything he asks you to just to serve him.

When he asks you to crawl on all fours for him, wearing that fur tail inside your tight ass and a pair of kitten ears on top of your head, you don’t hesitate. You stare at him with doe eyes and he can’t help but tauntingly smile at such a humiliating act, his cock pulsating underneath his pants at the sight of your wet cunt that only gets wetter the more he orders you around.

Minho is also the type to pat your head or scratch your chin while he tells you how much of a good kitten/puppy/bunny you are. However, when you’ve done wrong, he doesn’t hesitate to punish you —locking you inside your pretty cage, naked and on all fours with all of your body exposed to his delight.

These days though, you have tried your best to be a good pet to him.

After all, you love the treats Minho gives you when you behave and do as he says!

Omorashi

Minho never knew it was a thing until he had to google it —“I got hard when I saw my girlfriend desperate to pee”. Even typing those words made him feel filthy, but not even that embarrassment prevented him from developing an attraction to such an unusual preference.

It all happened at a public park, where there were no restrooms near. You stared at Minho with furrowed eyebrows and big eyes, telling him that you just couldn’t hold it any longer.

The way your thighs squeezed together and a few moans and whimpers escaped through your lips as you tried your best to remain dry got the best out of Minho, whose cock got painfully hard just by the sight of your legs pressed together while you bit your lower lip.

“Fuck,” you sighed with both relief and concern, closing your eyes with your eyebrows still as furrowed. Your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing a few sighs to escape through them as you no longer could hold it in.

The sight of you wetting yourself, after all those minutes of despair you had gone through, aroused Minho. And the fantasy of getting to see your soaked underwear dripping paired with the embarrassment in your face was driving him insane, but he just couldn’t figure out what was so attractive about that.

To this day, something you recall as an embarrassing memory, it’s what Minho revisits in his imagination every night he doesn’t get to fuck you, roughly stroking his cock to the memory of your wet clothes and whimpers of relief.

Changbin

Anal sex

He loves it. A lot.

Not only because it’s much more tighter than your sweet cunt, but because of how filthy and taboo anal sex it still is.

There’s nothing Changbin adores more than being able to see himself bottoming out inside your ass, feeling how it swallows him full even when you are moaning and crying in both pleasure and pain —the sight of his thick girth stretching you out is enough to drive him to the edge.

Although the go-to position for this practice is being on all fours, Changbin loves it the most when he gets to fuck your ass in missionary. He loves hearing you gasp when he enters you for the first time that day, your eyes widening as you feel the painful, but slow stretch his cock provides. He loves to see how your cunt clenches around thin air as he makes his way inside your hole.

Sometimes he can’t help but groan too when he feels your tight walls squeezing him harshly. He starts off slowly and increases the pace of his thrusts as you get used to him, finishing off with a rough, messy anal sex that you both enjoy a lot.

In those times, where things escalate quickly, Changbin adores hearing your cute whimpers and sobs every time he pushes his cock deeper inside you. If the position allows him to, he would even play with your clit and stuff your empty cunt with two of his fingers while he fucks your ass.

Lastly, he also thrives on coming inside your tightest hole, filling it to the brim with this cum until it leaks out of you.

The messier, the better, Changbin thinks.

Multiple partners

One of Changbin’s ultimate sexual fantasies.

Changbin, who has a great stamina, fantasies about engaging in sexual relationships with multiple women at the same time —the man knows he is capable of that and more.

More often than not, Changbin has this recurring fantasy; fantasy in which he finds himself in a hotel room with 8 or 9 other women, all naked and at his full disposal.

Changbin pictures him fucking every single one of them —sometimes, he also pictures some of them fucking with each other in front of him. But truly, all Changbin cares about is to be able to satisfy each and every one of them properly.

He wants to fuck one women while both of his hands work on other two sweet pussies, getting hard at the sound and sight of the pleasure he is providing them with. At the same time, he wants to feel hands and lips all over his body, begging for his attention. Deep down, he knows he is capable of giving it to them if they wait just a little longer.

Sometimes he imagines he comes inside every single one of them, breeding them fully and watching how his hot cum leaks out of their cunts. That would make him feel really, really proud. But some others, he just imagines he comes all over their bodies and faces as a reminder that they served him well.

Either scenario makes him hard, and he really can’t wait to try it out.

Exhibitionism

He would never say these things out loud, but Changbin gets hard whenever he shows himself off to someone. Because of this particular preference, he was driven to open an anonymous NSFW twitter account.

If you scroll through his profile, you can find a bunch of gym pictures, suggestive videos and audios that he records for his followers online —sometimes, he goes as far as uploading full nude pictures and videos.

After working out, while taking a shower or right before going to bed, Changbin gets hard and he feels the need to show himself to someone. Anyone, for that matter. So he undresses himself, pumps his cock a few times until it is nice and hard and he takes a picture of it —if the angle is right, one can also catch a glimpse of his toned abdomen. And although the process of taking the picture and uploading it is satisfactory on its own, there is absolutely nothing more rewarding than the bunch of comments he receives afterwards.

He jerks off reading all the dirty comments of people telling him how much they desired to be fucked by a cock like his. His inbox also gets full with message requests from people who feel like having a sexual chat with the man behind the screen, complimenting him and asking to see more.

And really, who is Changbin to deny that to them?

Hyunjin

Graphoerotica

Hyunjin was stubborn and, after encountering an interesting picture on the internet, he just had to try it out.

A marker and your consent was all that he needed before completely diving into such an unusual practice, one that you had never heard about until he brought it up. He had you lying on your back, naked and with your legs spread for him. One of his hands was holding your hips in place while the other one dragged the marker along your skin, leaving traces of pigment that formed letters, and such letters formed whole words.

The first thing he wrote was his name with big, bold letters “Hyunjin's” with an arrow pointing down to your cunt, indicating that such a part of your body belonged to him.

He then continued marking your body with words you usually like to hear from you, words that accurately described you whenever you were in bed with him —slut, cumdump and whore were ones of many that Hyunjin wrote all over your body.

You were staring at him with such a sweet, innocent smile while your naked body was covered in all sorts of dirty words, that it was hard for him not to get aroused.

Every now and then, you indulge Hyunjin by letting him mark your body with words. And in return, he fucks you for hours on end until the sweat and friction between both of your bodies makes the tint of the words fade away.

But even then, when they are no longer visible on your skin, Hyunjin knows that you still wear them proudly.

Pain

Whether it's giving it or receiving it, Hyunjin can't deny that pain makes him hard.

There is something really taboo when it comes to physical pain and, overall, suffering. If you love someone, you must not hurt them, but, sometimes, that's all Hyunjin thinks about.

When he gets to see you squirming on his lap every time he spanks you, or when he hears you groaning after pulling your hair harshly, Hyunjin's cock reacts. There is something about pain that it's so intimate to Hyunjin that it really gets the best of him.

But, as I said, it goes both ways. When you pull his hair or scratch his back, making him hiss in pain, Hyunjin gets aroused too.

Overstimulation is, perhaps, Hyunjin's favorite form of pain, and you are always more than happy to indulge him that way. When he comes, you don’t stop —you lazily keep on stroking his length, smearing his semen all along it while Hyunjin hisses and his abdomen contracts as he tries to catch his breath. He clenches his jaw and fists, throws his head back and closes his eyes tightly shut while his perfect features contort in grimaces of suffering. But even then, when the veins of his neck become more prominent and his knuckles turn even paler from how hard he is squeezing both of his fists, he keeps on asking you for more.

It’s not that Hyunjin is a sucker for pain, but it arouses him when you are the one inflicting it.

Bondage

Big, big, big fan. Whether it’s with ropes or harnesses, Hyunjin utterly adores to restrain your movements.

There is something dark and intimate that he finds in bondage —the renunciation of something as basic and necessary as movement is. He takes pride in knowing you trust him enough to be able to grant him the right to tie up your body and do whatever he wants with it, something you wouldn’t let anyone else, other than Hyunjin, do.

Sometimes, he uses it as a punishment. But more often than not, he does it because he enjoys it. He likes the whole process —if he is using ropes, he makes sure to take his time tying your body up tightly but comfortably for you; if he chooses the harnesses, he is the one to put them on you while he whispers the sweetest and teasing compliments.

Hyunjin finds intimacy in the way you stare at his hands while he ties you up, your eyes fixed in his fingers and veins every time he tightens the ropes on your body.

He also thrives on catching a glimpse of fear and curiosity in your eyes every time he restrains your movements, shivering ever so slightly underneath his body. You know Hyunjin would never do something you are not comfortable with, but that doesn’t stop your body from trembling with anticipation of knowing what’s next in store for you throughout the night.

But even then, when your insides are filled with fear and excitement, your cunt gets the most wet and he can’t help but smirk to himself and asks you: “Are you going to let me use this pretty body as much as I want?”

Jisung

Mindbreak

Han Jisung is a proud man. It’s really not a secret.

He takes pride on how much he excels at everything he does, and sex it’s not an exception to this rule: Jisung knows he fucks well. He has a fair number of women who can confirm such a fact —almost every woman he has slept with has complimented him about his stamina, his mouth skills and how, overall, how good he is in bed.

That, itself, it’s very rewarding for him: receiving a late night text from a one night stand asking to see him again, or hearing the woman thanking him over and over for an orgasm. But for Jisung, there is nothing more rewarding than getting to see and hear the power he holds over certain people.

When Jisung fucks, he is determined to give his partner as much pleasure as he possibly can —that, almost always ends up leading to overstimulation and multiple orgasms. He adores watching how his partner aggressively trembles underneath him, closing her legs around him while his cunt squeezes his cock out because of the overstimulation. He loves to see their eyes rolling to the back of their head and going white while drool drips from their lips and onto their chins, their minds short-circuiting and not allowing them to say a word other than “Jisung” and "more", begging for him to continue.

Being able to break someone’s mind until they are no longer anything but prisoners from their orgasms is what Jisung takes the best pride in.

Facefucking

Tongue out, mouth open wide and hands behind your back —that’s what Jisung likes to see whenever he asks you to be good for him.

When he is stressed, there is nothing that relaxes him more than getting to fuck your mouth and face. You know it’s his favorite thing ever and as the good, compassionate girlfriend you are, you always indulge him in such a way.

Sometimes, Jisung doesn’t have to ask for it before you are already on both your knees with your mouth open wide and your eyes begging for him to use you. And he does so every time, starting off by gathering all of your hair in an improvised ponytail with one hand while the other lowers his sweatpants and pulls his hardened cock out.

Because of the trust you two have, and how used you both are to such a practice, Jisung knows he is allowed to go rough on you. So he starts off slowly, only to increase the pace of his hips just a few seconds later.

He pushes your head further onto his length until he can actually feel the back of your throat, and he stays like that for a while, stretching you open. When he knows you are ready to take him, he starts taking the stress out on your body by using your mouth as much as he wants —hearing you gag and gasp for air around his cock is, possibly, one of the things that make him the hardest.

So he continues on maneuvering you by your hair on his cock, pushing your head all the way deep until he feels like coming —and of course, he does so inside your mouth, while still having his cock reaching the deepest parts of it.

Spit/drool.

Jisung doesn't gross out easily, that’s why sex with him is always messy.

And more than him not being grossed out easily, it’s the fact that he actually likes the mess and the filthiness of it all.

He is the type of man who pushes his fingers down your throat just to hear you gagging and have you uncontrollably drooling around them, saliva spilling into his fingers and onto your chin and breasts. When he fucks your mouth, he looks to achieve the exact same thing: he wants you to make a mess.

Jisung adores to see you drooling all over the place, to see the skin on your breasts and tummy glistening with your own saliva —it is both filthy and erotic, he thinks.

The kisses you two share are no different than what’s described here —they are desperate, messy, dirty and filthy. Drool is shared between both of you, staining your chins and other skin areas near your mouths, both of your tongues brushing against each other while you two desperately want to explore each other’s mouths. He also doesn’t run out of breath easily so long, dirty kisses are very familiar to him.

But when he does interrupt the kiss to catch some air or to move on with something else, his cock twitches at the sight of a string of saliva connecting both of your lips.

If he could, he would spend hours on end kissing you sloppily, spitting into your mouth and losing any inhibitions.

Felix

Temperature play

Paired with bondage, temperature play it’s something that drives Felix insane. And although he enjoys playing with both ice and wax, he is more drawn to perform temperature play with cold elements.

There is something very satisfying in watching you squirm underneath him, your wrists and arms desperately trying to free themselves from the restraints while his hands drag ice cubes all over your tummy and chest.

Also, getting to see how your nipples harden? Probably one of the things that arouses him the most, that’s why he adores to tease your areolas with ice, dragging it in circles around your nipple while he gets to see how they react to his ministrations.

Another thing he enjoys is to place certain toys, like your favorite glass dildo, in the freezer for a couple of minutes. He makes sure it is nice and cold before using it on you, teasing your inner thighs and pubic area before lightly slapping your clit with it. When your body jolts and it trembles against the ropes restraining you, Felix’s cock twitches. The way your eyes stare at him, practically begging for more, drives him to fuck your cunt with the toy, feeling cold drops of water melting with your own wetness; in just a couple of minutes, the cold sensation is replaced with only your warm fluids coating the toy.

Felix really finds a kind of sadistic pleasure in how your body aggressively reacts to such stimuli.

Sensory deprivation

Felix knows how much power his voice holds over you —a few words from him and he already has you coming undone underneath his body.

It’s no secret that the tone and deepness of it has always been appealing for you whenever you get to hear him, and he is aware of it. He is that aware that, at times, he knows his voice it’s all that he needs to make you come.

What Felix likes the most about depriving your sight with blindfolds is how your other senses, such as hearing, enhance. He loves to whisper all sorts of things and have you turning to the sides to guess where the sound is coming from.

He also utterly adores to tease your body for hours on end while you are blindfolded because even the softest touch of his kiss on your shoulder or inner thighs make you gasp in surprise.

Knowing that you aren’t aware of where in the room he is, or what he is about to do next, arouses him a lot. And that, combined with the fact that his voice and touch are the only things that can guide you through the sex, it’s something he enjoys.

That’s why, most of the time when you are blindfolded, he explains to you what he is exactly about to do.

And oh, how you love to hear his voice telling you all the filthy things he is about to perform next.

Corruption

The only angelical thing about Felix is his appearance —don’t be fooled by that bright smile and that gentle gaze he sometimes has.

Because even if he manages to fool you, he will always find a way to let you know what truly lingers inside him, and what kind of twisted things he likes —corruption being one of them.

All Felix takes advantage of is the misconception people often create about him. He plays the role of the sweet, innocent boy next door fairly well, only to end up corrupting women to like the same dark things he does.

He is the type to offer you a sweet smile before introducing you to practices such as edging or overstimulation —practices that, before him, you didn’t even think had a name.

Felix feels satisfied when you ask him for more of that, of those things he just taught you and that you didn’t even know they existed. He offers you an innocent gaze that’s falsely filled with concern, telling you that “he is not sure if he should” only for you to end up begging for his touch or cock like a desperate slut.

Of course, no one associates him with that kind of taste, that’s why it is easier —he makes you think that you are in control, that all of the new things you are experiencing is because you wanted them to happen and definitely not because he is corrupting you into the perfect sextoy for him.

Seungmin

Dacryphilia

There is something sadistic in getting turned on by seeing you cry. Or at least that’s what Seungmin thinks.

But really, he can’t help himself —his cock grows even harder every time he hears you sobbing and crying in pleasure while he plays with your pussy or is fucking you.

For Seungmin, the satisfaction only comes if the reason behind your cries is something sexual —otherwise, he doesn’t find any arousal behind your tears.

But when it is sexual, when your eyes get clouded with tears and quiet whimpers and sobs fill his room as he fucks you, the sadistic part in Seungmin gets the best of him.

If you are on all fours while he fucks you from behind and he hears you cry, he immediately changes the position to be able to see the tears streaming down your face —for an unknown reason, he likes it a lot.

Also, when he is edging you and prolonging your orgasm, he enjoys watching you cry as you beg for it. And even though he does it in a mocking way, asking you “if you are going to cry”, he can’t deny how hard he gets whenever you do just that.

The best part of it all is that you don’t necessarily cry because he likes it —matter of fact, you aren’t even aware of this particular preference; it just comes out of you naturally, crying when the pleasure becomes too overwhelming.

And when that happens, when you cry and whine while he fucks you, Seungmin just really can’t last long.

Edging

Seungmin values your obedience a lot —because, although he isn't possessive, there's no better way to show your commitment to him than following his orders.

He always knows what you want and every time he will give it to you, but more often than not, he wants you to prove that you deserve it.

He teases you, and touches you, and fucks you exactly how you like it, but every time you are just about to come he asks you not to.

“Just hang on a little more for me, yeah?” and he asks it so sweetly, opposite to how rough his fingers are stretching your pussy, that all you want is to please him. So you hold on a little longer, cursing his name under your breath as you do all you can to prolong your orgasm.

“Just like that, puppy, be good and hold it,” and you do just that. The most rewarding thing for Seungmin is the fact that he doesn’t have to threaten you with a punishment for you to follow his pleas compliently. There’s really not a consequence if you can’t hold your orgasm, or if you come before he asks you to, but you still try your best because that’s how good you want to be for him.

And after some minutes of torture, Seungmin allows you to come. And he praises and encourages you through it, telling you how much of a good job you did and how well-behaved you are for him.

For him, there’s really nothing more satisfying than getting to see that look of bliss and relief in your face after he finally says the magic words.

Soft-domming.

I believe Seungmin is an experimentalist —he is willing to try almost everything, even if he thinks he will not like it.

But out of all the practices and roles he has tried so far, being a soft dominant is the one that comes naturally from him. The need to pleasure and take care of his submissive it’s a wholesome idea on its own —putting it to practice is a whole other different world that Seungmin truly enjoys.

Although a few of his preferences veer towards a sadistic side, he never performs them with the roughness and perversion of a hard dominant. Seungmin always does so gently, making sure he isn’t inflicting any pain on you and that everything he gives you is nothing but pleasure.

When you cry, or when you are too overwhelmed to speak, Seungmin shows his true sympathy for you, showering you with sweet praises and reassuring words —“you look beautiful while having me inside you” or “you are taking me so well”.

He never loses an opportunity to compliment the way you please him or the way your body takes him in, always peppering kisses on your face while his hips sink against yours slowly.

And even though there are endless sexual practices and kinks he is yet to try out with you, Seungmin strongly believes that sweet and gentle intimacy is what a pretty girl like you deserves.

Jeongin

Choking

Jeongin gets hard by seeing the desperation in your eyes.

He loves to see how they widen and how your lips part ever so slightly as a faint gasp fills his ears.

He adores to feel your hand wrapping around his wrist while you squeeze it, encouraging him to choke you harder even when you already feel dizzy and your eyes are already hazy.

Whenever his cock is inside your pussy, Jeongin loves to feel you clenching around him every time he wraps his hand around your neck. Even when you are struggling to breathe properly, and when you are staring right at him with a lost gaze, your pussy keeps on clenching almost aggressively around him in response to his touch.

After a couple of seconds, when he knows you are near your limit, he softens his grips to allow you to gasp for air, inhaling and exhaling profoundly while the fear in your eyes vanishes in front of him.

Nothing arouses him more than when you look for his wrist while he is pounding himself inside you, guiding his hand all the way to your neck and offering him a smile that just begs for him to choke you —it arouses him mostly because it started off as something just he liked, until you started to take a liking on it too and it suddenly became a recurring practice in sex between the two of you.

His favorite thing to do? Choke you while you come all over his cock.

Humiliation

It was confusing for him at first. How could he get off at the fantasies of him humiliating his partner in bed? For an odd reason, that didn’t seem morally correct. But even so, with the moral conflicts going on, Jeongin often jerked off to the thought of verbally humiliating his partner, making them feel embarrassed by their neediness.

More often than he would admit, he gets hard while thinking about all the filthy stuff he wants to make his partner do. A recurring fantasy he has on this is to make his partner get off on his shoe while he watches.

There’s something about humiliation that Jeongin finds power in. The idea of his partner getting wet while being degraded, embarrassed and laughed at turns him on in ways he can’t even explain —he desperately wants to be the one degrading and laughing at them for how pathetic they look, and he wants them to enjoy every single second of it.

I feel like Jeongin is definitely the type to laugh at you and ask embarrassing questions while you are too overwhelmed in pleasure —questions like “this is all that you need to be happy, right? A big cock inside that slutty hole of yours” or “are you really about to come from getting fucked in the ass? only sluts as filthy as you like to have their tightest hole ruined, because I guess having someone fucking your cunt is not enough any more”.

Orgasm denial and ruining orgasms.

Jeongin is such a tease —he definitely has a thing for denying (and ruining) your orgasms.

It’s not like he doesn’t think you don’t deserve them, but there’s something thrilling in the way you desperately react whenever he tells you you don’t get to come for the night, or for the whole week.

He fucks your cunt, rubs your clit and expects you to be good and follow his command —enjoy it all you want, but don’t come at all. Sometimes, you succeed; you hang on there until he is done, spilling his seed in you and praising you for being obedient after all the struggle. In those times, where he denies your orgasm and you obey, he doesn’t punish you for the whole week and you are thankful for that.

Some others, though, you fail. When he asks you not to come, to hang on a little longer until he is done, but you can’t control yourself, he interrupts your orgasm right at the highest point of it and ruins it for you.

He has you bucking your hips pathetically against nothing, crying in frustration and anticipation of the punishment that will follow your actions next. Your body twists underneath him while you grip the bed sheets underneath you, sobbing and begging for his mercy, “fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”.

Oh, he is definitely going to make you feel even sorry for it.

#kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #changbin smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #jisung smut #bangchan smut #hyunjin smut #lee know smut

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m-ilkiee · 4 days

Text

Monsters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

“He ate my heart”

Pairings: Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano x female reader, Izana Kurokawa x female reader

Series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

Content warning generally: DARK CONTENT, Tokyo revengers AU, female reader, virgin reader, heavy smut, polyamory, Dark Impulse Mikey, Manipulative Izana, inaccurate/inconsistent university terminology, heavy angst with little comfort, betrayal, misogyny and sexism, emotional, physical and mental abuse, mental break, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harrassment, dubious consent, noncon, drug, alcohol and substance misuse/abuse, extreme violence, use of weapons, Torture, criminal activities, PTSD, paranoia, emotional incest, power imbalance, character death(s) (not reader), anal penetration, mention of self-harm, religious guilt and trauma, religious themes, Vouyeurism, gangbang, masochism, sadism, hard kinks, strangulation (non sexual), psychological horror (more warnings to be added soon)

main masterlist||taglist link

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

chapter summary: Being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

cw: misogyny, alcohol mention, sex mention, rape mention, brief religious mention, reader is called a whore/slut, slutshaming, sexual assault, noncon to dubcon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming, destructive thoughts, mention of violence (towards reader)

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Chapter 2: Shots Fired

chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

chapter summary: Emma has a suspicion that both her brothers are into you when you all go shopping. She couldn’t be farther from the truth.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 4: The Calm

chapter summary: After your college professor tries to harass you for grades, you turn to the oldest Sano for help. But nothing comes for free, not even for Emma’s sweet friend.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 5: Act on Dark Impulses

chapter summary: You knew better than to trust Mikey and Izana. Yet you fall for their plan hook, line and sinker and live through the worst night of your life.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 6: The Closest you’ll ever get to being in Love

chapter summary: Things get sicker and twisted with the two brothers and Emma is none the wiser.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations

chapter summary: You learn the hard way what happens when you refuse to be their stress relief because of your important exams.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 8: Divine Intervention

chapter summary: You are called home to bury your mother and learn that nothing has changed since you left.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 9: Lead me not into Temptation

chapter summary: Emma notices that something isn’t right with you when you come visit her in the Sano residence.

cw: coming soon

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Chapter 10: Deliver Me from All Evil

chapter summary: You’ve finally broken the cycle, but at what cost?

cw: coming soon

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authors notes: updates are irregular, depending on when i have time. some chapters have been re-written to fit the original storyline. don't pressure me to update and please don't be rude to me. I do not condone any negative actions done on this fic. comments, reblogs and asks are very much appreciated. if you are a minor, please refrain from interracting with this series.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333

#tokyo revengers masterlist #tokyo revemgers series #mikey sano #izana kurokawa #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #tw. dark content #read the labels

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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i would love to see a gn/transmasc/catboy version of that post please 👀👀👀

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Boy

Warnings: Implied Smut/Sexual Content, Scary Dog Privilege, Pet Names, Sadism, Masochism, Scratching, Mention of Objectification (Consensual), Collar Mentioned, Male Reader.