#look in the mirror and say what’s up you useless fuck

[mionemymind]

Don't Ask Stupid Questions

Summary: Friends with benefits is never a good idea when you're in love with Wanda Maximoff.

Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Suggested Smut, No Part 2? (I Lied)

A/n: I was inspired by the song You by Zeph. But be advised that the song has a happy tone to it while I completely twisted it to be angst (call me crazy). Gif credits go to @vanessacarlysle

Word Count: 542

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

“Are we together?” Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her mouth was slightly parted as her brain racked to comprehend the question. Trying her best to calm down her breathing from the heated make out session, Wanda answered with, “Don’t ask stupid questions, babe.” 

A small giggle and smile escaped Wanda lips as she pulled Y/n back in for another kiss. She purposely ignored the small hurt Y/n expressed in her eyes as she deepened the kiss. And when Y/n pulled Wanda’s hips closer, with Wanda’s back pressed up against the wall, all thoughts of the question went away.

“Will you let me take you out on a date?” Wanda looked up from her stack of mission reports to see Y/n with a single rose and doe eyes. It was obvious to anyone that saw the interaction just how much Y/n liked Wanda. 

But as the small fake smile appeared on Wanda’s lips, Y/n couldn’t help but steel herself from the on coming rejection. “I’m sorry Y/n.” Feeling defeated, Y/n still laid the rose down in front of Wanda as she walked backwards to escape. 

“I love the rose,” Wanda quipped before Y/n fully exited, “but don’t ask stupid questions, babe.” Y/n smiled briefly as she nodded in acceptance. 

“It was a stupid question,” Y/n muttered under her breath. 

“Do you seriously feel nothing for me?” Wanda looked back at the sight of Y/n naked under the covers. The redhead was already retrieving her clothes, ready to go back to her room for the night. 

And as she put on her shirt, and gave Y/n a quick kiss goodbye, she lightly tapped the girl's cheek and said, “We’ve agreed to this babe. So don’t ask stupid questions.” 

Unable to say anything more, Y/n let Wanda exit her room feeling evermore useless for hoping. 

“Are you in love with him?” Y/n had gotten word that Vision asked Wanda out on a date. Fully expecting Wanda to say no, it was a huge shock for Y/n to find out Wanda said yes.

While hiding in Wanda’s room, away from all the prying eyes, the red head sighed as she got off Y/n’s lap. “I said yes to one date Y/n. It’s not like I’m in love with him.”

Wanda checked the mirror near her closet to see if any hickeys were visible. Once it was all clear, she crossed her arms and faced Y/n. “What’s up with you and all these questions? I told you all the rules in the beginning, yet you continue to ask.”

Y/n sighed as her head hung low in disappointment. “Would it be so wrong to think that maybe you’d have fallen in love with me?”

Wanda’s breath caught in her throat. While she knew Y/n liked her more than the average fuck, she hadn’t really thought it was this extent. Not knowing how to answer, Y/n took the silence as enough. 

“Whatever Wanda. You’re right. It’s a stupid question.” Y/n walked out of Wanda’s room this time and didn’t look back. What’s the point in asking if Wanda was never going to look at her that way?

Part Two

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

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@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha 

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff 

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

@reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #no happy ending #angst #no part two #Don't Ask Stupid Questions #mionemymind #Friends with benefits trope #marvel #Don't Say Something Stupid

[shu-of-the-wind]

me, adding shit by bo burnham to my xinzhe feng playlist: this is Correct

#LOOK IN THE MIRROR SAY WHAT'S UP YOU USELESS FUCK #is xinzhe core tbqh #swallows on the beam #sotb #my writing #shut up alix no one cares

[icry-haha]

Nothing like listening to shit by Bo Burnham while trying to make your brain write something. This song is a "mood". whatever that means.

#I love that song #writing #brain rot #im trying i swear #anyone wanna guess what I'm writing? #so many songs are so fucken relatable right now #wake up at 11:30 feeling like a bag (oh no) all my clothes are dirty so I'm smellin like a bag of shit. gotopoormycoffeeandimissmycup OMG #thatisjustmyluck look in the mirror and say what's up you useless fuck. #best part

[chrollohearttags]

you couldn’t stop staring at it..

your eyes had been fixated to that damn phone screen for nearly an hour, long after he sent it. But who could when something so beautiful was plastered across it? The attachment constantly on repeat and playing in your mind..plaguing it with filthy, perverse thoughts. Causing you to lose concentration for any other task that you had set before you today. Why exactly?

“Ohhhh..fuck..”

it was the middle of the day. You had just gotten out of your last class and was in the midst heading back to your apartment but first? You made a quick detour to the restroom. It was as you were standing in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss and ensuring that your lace wasn’t lifting from the heat. When your phone would buzz against the hard countertop, making loud buzzing noises resonate throughout the desolate area. What you thought was yet another useless notification from one of the many apps you have muted throughout the day, was actually from the one person you were checking for:

my pookah 🔐🥺🤍

your partner in crime and best friend, Eren, who had just left the gym and like many times before, he checked in with you to see how your day was going. Normally with a funny message or meme..some stupid ass inside joke the two of you had come up with but today’s was rather different..and a little risqué! The only thing on the message was 1 attachment which you immediately opened. It was only by a miracle that you were all alone in there because what followed was something for your eyes and viewing pleasure only..sitting in his car with the front camera titled slightly upward and seemingly propped on the steering wheel, he was glaring directly at you. Those beautiful green eyes glossed over and his tongue glided across those pouty lips. His long hair dangling to his shoulders but tied back by a black bandana. A wife beater with the same color and his grey sweatpants just barely in the shot. You figured this was just another one of his silly antics, even smacking your lips and tempted to shut it off. “This boy play too damn much..all day long—“

but you were immediately halted in your tracks by what followed right after. Suddenly, you see him tug at that elastic waistband. He’d shuffle in his seat for a second until he got them worked down and that’s when his thick cock appeared in the shot. Your jaw damn falling to the floor..for a moment, you had to grab your chest and lean against the counter because you weren’t expecting that! But you certainly didn’t complain nor did you mind. That swollen tip beaming red with precum dripping all down the sides. It was early so you could see a few folks walking in the background but your attention was elsewhere and his? All on you..

“Been thinking ‘bout you all morning..could barely get through my workout.” His voice dropping to somewhat of a groggy, deep tone, almost as if he were entranced and drunk on you. His mind had been running rampant with thoughts of you and all the things you had done a few nights prior from sitting on his face to fucking you in front of the mirror. Anytime the two of you linked, it was so nasty and raw. You had obviously awoken a beast when you gave him the pussy. But he knew exactly how to handle it. Standing against the sink, you’d bite the tip of your finger as you video continued on playing; now intrigued and very much turned on. His fingers were enclosed around his shaft, slowly pumping as his eyes shut and he leaned against the headrest. All the while, he was still muttering and confessing how he truly felt..telling you all the things he wanted to do with you and needless to say, he wasn’t shy about it. Eren was a very vocal lover, no doubt. You learned that quickly. He had no problem telling you how good you felt and that he wanted to nut inside of you constantly. Regardless of how weak it made him look, he was going to make it known that you were the cause of it!

“..wanna fuck the shit out you, mama..so bad. I need that pussy..” Eren cried out with a guttural and pathetic groan..his chest heaving as he gently thrust his hips upward and fucked his fist. Wishing so desperately that it were you. By now, your eyes were all but glued to the screen and thank heavens no one else had walked in because things were intensifying! By now, he had become completely undone. Just panting, whimpering and making his desires known. “..I just know she so wet f’r me. Shit, I wish you were here right now..tryna bounce you up and down on this dick. Make that shit cream all over me. You know how much I love that..you gonna let me have it, right?” Doing that subtle, sexy lip bite that drove you crazy. Especially when he spoke to you in that deep tone. At that moment, it took all your resolve not to answer him aloud. You were losing your mind watching him stroke that shaft, now sped up and making smacking noises. That pearlescent semen serves as the perfect lube. He had even grown right before your eyes. But what really does it for you was when he began pinching his nipples through his shirt and whimpering like a pathetic little puppy. He was such a slut when it came to you. Willing to degrade himself and look as crazy as possible..so as long as he got you as the reward.

“Oh fuck….oh fuck..I’m bout to come so hard. I got to have you, for real. Please let me have that pussy, mama. I’ll do whatever for it..” his voice rising to a high pitched cry at this point and you were practically salivating at the sight. Eren was damn near dry heaving, nearing his inevitable climax when you began squirming around, trying to feint the tiny twitches from your aching cunt. Spasming on nothing more than air at the thought of him filling you. If it wasn’t a shame, you’d finger yourself right there but it's well worth the wait once you two met later on. As for now, you’d watch him fuck himself silly and even go cross eyed as he begged to nut inside of you when he got it again. “You know I want you to have my baby anyways..oh shit. Just promise me I can nut in that pussy, mama. Fill you up just like this. Please..” and the second he uttered that, what followed was a long string of hot white nut flowing down his knuckles and a hitch in the back of his throat. Eventually, he’d regain his breath and seemingly his consciousness, crying out as he came to.

“Fuuuuuck! Goddamnit…”

but it was all for you and he’d do it time and again just to keep you satisfied, both sexually and emotionally. When he was finally of sound mind, he’d laugh and flick his tongue over his lips once more, glaring down at the pool of seed in his lap and splattered all over his thighs. “You see what you do to me, baby? You the only one that gets my dick that hard..makes me act that way..”

and you were the only one who ever would!

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒 #late post #but oh well #aot x black reader #black fem reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger aot #eren jaeger x black reader smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren smut #eren aot #black reader #smut drabble #smut fanfiction #aot #aot au #black reader smut #reader insert #eren headcanons #eren drabble #aot x reader smut #eren x f!reader #eren au #attack on titan eren #eren x black fem!reader #smut fic #cw smut #cw sex mention #cw voyeurism

[milequaritchsslut]

Miguel O’hara having mirror sex with reader because she got a belly piercing and he wants to see how hot it would be if he fucked the reader and was watching how the dangling ring shakes from the impact of him pounding into the reader (news flash he loves it) 😂😂😂😂😂😂🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

OMG he would definitely try to play it off and pretend he didn’t like it lmao

Warnings: Smut duh, tied hands, biting, blood, mirror sex duhhh

‘A-ah!’ You whined out, hands tied behind you as your boyfriend pounded into you ruthlessly from behind. One hand holding you to his chest and the other forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.

‘God why did you get this thing?’ He hissed out, hand coming to play with the ring on your navel, getting a small whimper to fall from you.

‘You know I don’t like these piercings you get all the damn time’ he groaned out, eyes locked on that shiny piece of metal. He’d never say it, but it looked so good on you. The way it glimmered from the rooms light, bouncing as he rammed into you, just made him feel things he wasn’t expecting to.

‘I-I’m sorry!’ You moaned out, head hanging low as you tried to catch your breathe, but being rendered useless from the pace your boyfriend had steadied. The sounds of skin slapping engulfed your senses as little pants and whines came out of you.

He smirked at your desperate attempt to redeem yourself, sweat dripping down your forehead. He pushed your face to look at yourself again, watching as your eyes widened at the sight of you. Your breasts bouncing up and down, nipples hard as liquid dripped in between them, getting a sparkling effect to ignite onto your body.

‘Like what you see?’ He teased slyly, a smirk dancing on his lips as his pace quickened, still staring at your piercing. God you looked so good with that thing on, he inhaled your scent, breathing in your sweet aroma. You always smelled so so good, he pulled you closer, face nuzzling into your neck, biting the soft skin.

‘M-mm’ voice shaky as your back arched at his fangs sank into your skin deliciously. You could feel the blood trickle down your neck and down your chest. Red ivory painting your breasts, as his hips met yours again and again.

Taglist: @mm-nope @jennieskimichi @nobloggy-onlyread @addictiontowardstheinternet @rawegggohan @raaaaainn @horror-cassettes @user172774837272 @adrunkskeletonsduck @iluvmiguelohara @nejirehh @tsdjzom1 @222a1yssa @beiroviski i @560ria @lana-4life

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut

[crybaby-bkg]

“I’m terrified of trying those hitachi wands,” you offhandedly mention one night in a quiet laugh, while laying in bed beside Bakugou. you’re both on your phones, one last scroll before bed, even though he’s actually playing one of those old people games. he looks over, hair pushed back by a clip he stole from you.

“Why would you be scared?” he asks you, completes the last two moves of the game before he closes his phone and sets it on the table beside the bed. he turns all of his attention on you then, rolling over to his side to face you, and you do the same.

“Because those things are damn near weapons with how they render people useless for like, twenty minutes after they cum.” you snicker, thinking back on the video you had seen earlier in the day. the lady damn near ruined her phone with the wetness, and could hardly move for a good minute after.

Bakugou only stares at you, doesn’t say anything for a long while, but he has this look on his face. he’s thinking about something, but doesn’t open his mouth until he’s whispering,

“That’s crazy,” he kisses your forehead and mumbles an I love you before he rolls over and pulls the covers to his head. you only blink in confusion before you chalk it up to him being the shy little prude he’s always been, and lay down yourself.

the conversation goes forgotten as the weeks pass on, something you don’t dwell on much afterwards. but obviously, it hasn’t passed Bakugou’s mind at all.

“I got it in pink.” he tells you one night after he’s wined and dined you. that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, but what was weird was how jittery he had been the entire time. this was why, surely, when he leads you to the bedroom and opens a neat little box with one of those wands you had completely forgotten about sitting prettily in front of you.

“Katsuki!” you laugh, hands covering your mouth before they cover your eyes in a mix of shame and shyness. “Why do you wanna see me laid out and twitching after using that thing?” you softly punch his shoulder, looking between his reddened cheeks and the wand he holds in front of you like an engagement ring.

“It’ll be hot.” he shrugs, mouth twisting this way and that in uncertainty, before he looks at you from under his lashes. “Wanna try it out?”

“Of course I do.” you answer back just as quickly, stripping from your clothes even quicker. it makes Bakugou laugh, taking his shirt off and his pants too, just to be safe in case you become a slash zone.

he tries it first with him sitting between your legs, just holding the wand there. he looks between your legs and then to your eyes, starting on a low setting and watches how you twist and thrive in the silken sheets. and when you cum, he thinks he can push you a little further.

he ups the vibrations, adds two of his fingers inside of you, crooking them until he finds that soft spot inside of you that makes you absolutely sob. you squirt all over him and he wonders if he should take his boxers off too (he doesn’t though; the thought of finding them tomorrow stained in you makes him damn near burst in his pants).

the next position is in front of your mirror on the closet, with your legs spread over his. Bakugou hooks his chin over your shoulder, holds your twitching thighs open as he keeps turning the vibrations up to the highest settings. you’re squirming and whining and whimpering for mercy, even though you cry even more whenever he stops.

the next time and the next time and the next, he’s got more fingers inside of you, his cock, another one of your favorite toys. he sets you in doggy style, even though he doesn’t fuck you, but keeps the wand between your legs. he likes the way your entire body shakes beneath him, collapsing, trapped between his weight and the strong vibrations that send you into another dimension.

the next day, you can barely feel between your legs, shaky and unstable for the whole day. but Bakugou makes up for it; he always does.

#this got longer than I expected sorry #anyway I need a break from everything ever #for a very very very long time #bc I’m over having to do Life. very draining #sorry to be a downer in the tags LMFAO the vibe switch is crazy #I’m just hungry and these sleep meds r taking me down #bright side is I’m getting donuts tomorrow 😝 #bakugou treats! 🍬 #—new treat in the streets! 🍫

[williamssgirl]

❀*ੈ˖°.𖥔 ݁ casual (part ii)

you can read part one here!

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you haven't spoken to ellie in a week, 9 missed calls and 38 texts from her, none of which you've answered, but ellie doesn't give up so easily.

warnings: smut, mdni, intimate sex, the knee thing (e!receiving), shower sex, fingering (r!receiving), switch!ellie and reader, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, fluffy, reader lives in an apartment, ellie is very apologetic, barley proofread & semi-rushed and i think thats it. lmk if not.

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this was meant to be like 1.6k words so idk how we got to 35 words away from 3k but... enjoy! dt: @satellitespinner

don't buy tlou | free palestine

(1:02am) ellie

please let me explain

(1:06am) ellie

cmon please i promise it'll be worth your while

(1:07am) ellie

i have your bra among other things. let me know when you'd like me to drop them off. i'm sorry.

(1:09am) you

guess who texted again

(1:09am) olive

no way

r u gonna reply?

(1:10am) you

absolutely not

i made a fool of myself

(1:11am) olive

maybe and JUST MAYBE

reply to her and get ur closure + super sexy bra back

(1:12am) you

what the fuck olive

do you want me to die? genuine question

(1:12am) olive

LISTEN

it might help

plus she seems genuinely apologetic

why is she even apologising?

(1:14am) you

for being a dick and wanting a quick hookup?

(1:14am) olive

because she has feelings and she knows she fucked up?

(1:15am) you

😐 bye

(1:15am) olive

just reply! say sometime tmrw. it can be easy, a quick in nd out

okay?

(1:16am) you

i'll think about it

(2:03am) you

11:30, you get two minutes

(2:03am) ellie

thank you so much

(2:03am) ellie

i'll be there

nine hours later, and ellie was a mess.

you had given her permission to come over and return your bra – hell you had her jumping for fucking joy when she saw that message.

but now she had to actually talk to you, and what the hell was she supposed to say? that she was sorry? that she 'couldn't sort out her feelings?' all of which felt wrong (maybe they only felt wrong because she was staring at herself in the mirror while repeating them for three hours... who knows).

but ellie had found herself with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a plan.

a plan to win you back.

she was going to apologize, let you scream at her, and hopefully let her explain, all in the two minutes you had gratefully gifted her.

so, when she rang the doorbell to your apartment after hiking the six story stairs, she found herself staring at her old, beaten up converse. stars and hearts you had drawn all along the sides of the soles almost mocked her.

then you opened the door, and ellie couldn't look up.

useless apologies started spilling from her mouth, panicked words that meant nothing. a collection of "i'm sorry” s and a series of "please let me explain" came pouring out, that was until she grew the gall to look up at you and take you in.

her heart stopped when she did, so did her words.

you looked tired. clearly old yet comfortable clothes adorned your body, you had your arms over your stomach but they weren't crossed, you weren't mad, you could never be mad at ellie, no matter how badly you wanted to be especially in this moment.

words rushed through her head but never made it out her mouth, you were... exhausted. and she caused it, she caused all this pain you were going through. 

“oh…” she softly whispered, her stance faltering at the sight of you, not because you looked like how you did but because she was so mad at herself.

you sigh, you had made no effort to adjust your appearance or put makeup on. you told yourself it was because you had no energy to, but in reality, you wanted to show ellie how you were hurting, that she had caused this, that something fun and sweet had gone sour and at your own expense. 

“ellie, i know i look….” you remove your arms from your stomach and signal to yourself shamefully, tears almost springing from your sunken eyes at the regret you feel for not even trying to fix yourself up, “ but can i please just have my bra back?” you’ve changed your position once again so that you’re leaning up against the doorframe of your apartment, gray sleeves up by your knuckles. 

“no! no no no not at all you look… pretty. really pretty.” she breathes out hurriedly, your cheeks heat up before you spot the bouquet, and that's what makes the tears spill. because why was she here? she had never described you as pretty before, only hot or sexy, so why is she here apologising and calling you pretty if she doesnt just want a quick fuck by validating you? 

tears now evidently filled your eyes, ellie’s kind smile had now turned into one of worry and concern when she saw the tears threatening to spill from your tired eyes, moving forward to embrace you, but she hesitated. will it only make things worse for you? feeling her again? 

“can- can i touch you?” she asks gently, nerves shaking at the chance of you pushing her away for good, telling her she can keep the bra and slamming the door shut in her face. 

instead, you silently shake your head yes and grant her permission to embrace you, it was a stupid idea, really, because everything you felt, all the times she had touched you that you had so desperately been trying to shut out came flooding back and it took everything in you not to sob, the subtle stream of tears gliding down your cheeks was worse enough. you avoided her sorrowful eyes, you didn't want her to feel sorry for you, you just wanted her. 

ellie lets go of you, she’s still standing at the doorway, converse planted firmly on your ‘welcome!’ doormat, she delicately reaches to hold your cheeks and force your wandering eyes to look into her own, staring for a second, memorizing your face just in case before looping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you inside, closing the door behind the two of you with her foot, not looking back once. 

you can feel the flowers gently brush against your shoulder as she never put them in her other hand, but the feeling of them is oddly comforting. you're not sure why exactly it’s comforting, but you do however manage to notice they're your favorite. 

ellie guides you over to a kitchen counter, sitting you up on it and standing right in between your open spread legs, placing the array of flowers opposite to the two of you. you bury your head in your hands, wanting to disappear from this moment and never return. 

“hey…” she gently prys your hands away from your head, and you immediately look up to contain tears, trying your hardest nor to hit the cabinets. “i'm sorry for just welcoming myself in, i assumed you didn't want the neighbors to see you…” the auburn haired girl uneasily babbles, and the tears slow down. you sniffle, looking down at the girl who can’t seem to slow her fast paced talking, and you're not sure how to quiet her down other than placing a hand over her mouth. 

instantly, the talking stops as she looks up at you confused, you sniffle once more and she grabs your hand again to remove it from her mouth 

“you were talking a lot,” you whisper “its okay that you came in, ellie.” your voice is silky, addicting. 

“i just-” she sighs, anxiously tapping the space outside your thighs and staring at her own hands “i don’t know how i can express just how sorry i am, i fucked up. Bad. and your hurting because of it” she spills, shes not even sure if it made sense as it left her mouth, but it’s honest. 

“ellie… it was always more than just a casual thing to me,” you admit, voice getting shallower by the second “and i mean, i don’t know, i always just assumed if i kept saying i was fine with it you would realize that i was who you wanted, but now i know it isn’t true.” ellie’s face drops upon hearing your words, alarms blare in her head because of course it was never just casual to her as well, she’s not even sure why she suggested it in the first place or kept reinforcing it when she wanted everything but that. 

“i know,” she starts off with, you look down sadly, this was confirmation she didn't want to see you anymore, that you getting attached had ruined everything and there was no saving whatever you two had. “but,” she continues, you look up at her again, confused. “It was never just casual to me as well, you know? i’m not even sure why i suggested it in the first place.” she lets out a brief chuckle at the last part in hopes of clearing some of the tension around you guys. 

“but you-” 

“i know i always reminded you, i think it was because i was scared? i was so… infatuated with you and i guess i didn’t want to hurt you. i thought it was the only way.” she remorsefully confesses, and you smile, roles reversed as you gracefully grab her face and kiss her. a kiss that says everything. 

it's soft, gentle, show’s no urgency or panic. it’s natural, and ellie can feel you smiling into it, as is she. 

gently, she moves away and starts kissing down your neck, you lock your hands into her auburn and let out a sigh of content. 

“ellie…” you needily whisper. 

“yeah, baby?” she removes her mouth from your neck, grabbing your thighs and looking into your eyes. “this okay?”

“more than okay,” you confirm, “do you wanna shower with me?” your request is simple, but it makes ellie’s heart explode with excitement as she lifts you off the counter and begins to carry you over to the very familiar shower, the short walk is full of quick kisses and giggles bouncing off the walls when you finally arrive and she nearly stumbles over her own feet. 

you're quick to discard your own clothes, the anticipation building to feel ellie’s skin on your own, the girls anticipation matching yours as she hastily removes her own clothing. Flowers and bra forgotten in the kitchen when she pulls your body into the shower with her, capturing you into a needy kiss once more. she reaches behind you to turn the water on, not accounting for the fact it'll take a minute to warm up and allowing the freezing stream to harshly hit your back. you yelp, moving away quickly in shock, hearing ellie’s restrained snort from behind you. turning to face her, you slap her bicep playfully when the water begins to feel warmer 

“ellie!” you playfully scold, “that wasn't funny!” you’re trying to be serious, key word: trying, but you cant help to let your own laugh slip past your mouth as you join her in the fun. 

“‘m sorry!” she giggles, the laughter between you two dying down “i didn't think it would be that cold!” 

“yeah, well, obviously!” you attempt to splash her with the little bit of remaining cold water on your hands, but you're not quick enough. she pins your hands above your head against the wall adjacent to the stream of water, the glass becoming foggy with steam from the nearly boiling water. 

silence falls in between the two of you. no words are spoken as you move forwards wanting a kiss from the girl, but she moves back. deja vu spikes within you from that night at the bar, days before everything went down. 

she closes her eyes, leaning closer and pressing her forehead up against yours. You repeat the action, you weren't sure what she was doing, but you trusted her. 

“let’s take this slow, okay?” she utters softly, just loud enough so you could hear her over the sound of water pouring, you nod instantly. slow was good. slow meant effort.

with your agreement, she locks your lips into a kiss once again. it wasn't hasty or rough, it was soothing and steady, releasing your arms in order for her to move her own to rest on your hips, your own reaching towards her neck. 

the kiss continuous for a couple minutes, only letting go for a couple seconds at a time to catch your breaths before falling back into each other peacefully, but you were getting wetter and wetter, desperate for more than just kitten kisses on your neck, and you could tell ellie was getting wet too with her movements becoming more and more desperate and rough. 

discreetly, you slot your knee in between her legs while she's occupied with your neck. Almost immediately you can feel the grip she has on your hips become tighter, fingernails digging into the flesh as you slowly begin to move your knee, she groans, dropping her head into your shoulder, moving her hips to match the rhythm with your knee. 

“faster, please” she whimpers in your neck, busying herself again by leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck once more. who were you to deny such a pretty girl's request? you speed up the movement of your knee, nudging it up every now and again, removing a hand from her neck to reach down and slowly rub her clit. 

from the way she sucked harder on that spot just below your ear she knew you loved, you assumed the sensation was taken well, your own wetness starting to drip down your thighs, mixing with the water from the muffled noises she was making alone. eventually, the stimulation caught up to her, legs becoming shaky, speeding up your movements and circling her clit, forcefully removing her mouth from your neck so you could bring your head down and suck on her left nipple, and that was her tipping point. 

ellie came undone on your leg with a strangled shout of your name, legs shaking and thighs hurting as you slowed down the circles on her now sensitive nub before eventually stopping, removing the knee slotted between her legs as well as your mouth from her tit. 

“you okay?” you whisper, giving her a couple seconds to come down from her high, the water providing a warm comfort over the two of you. 

“yeah,” she breathes, coming up to give you a kiss on the lips, again, and again, making a wet noise each time, only further fueling your need for her. “more than okay, thank you.”

you smile at her, happy that she was satisfied with your work. you clench your thighs together in hopes to relieve some of the tension that had built up in your core, a move that did not go unnoticed by the dripping girl in front of you. 

“but now i think i need to take care of you, hm? would you like that?” you quickly nod your head yes, anxious to feel her touch on you once more. 

she doesn't wait to get to work on your body, lips going down to suck one of your boobs while her hand moves to roll the sensitive bud in between her fingers, almost instantly eliciting a moan from you.

quietly, she moves her hand that was previously rolling your nipple down your wet body to your core. you open your legs, she keeps her mouth on your boob, but teasing your folds as she ran her fingers through them and pinching your clit ever so slightly, causing you to squel. 

“ellie.. please…” you almost beg, desperate to feel her skilled fingers inside you already.

she presses her palm flat against your clit, ignoring your begs but making you jerk back into the ceramic wall as a small whimper falls from your mouth, ellie smirks knowing just how much of an effect she had on you. she wasn't leaving you ever again. 

lazily, she slips her middle finger into your hole, removing her mouth from your tit. the shower and your own slick providing enough lube that she didn't even have to prod at it. 

“jesus babe… you're so tight” you clench around her finger at these words, and she mindlessly adds a second one. your hands move from her neck to the steaming glass beside you, indenting your handprint through the fog as you lose control over your own body's movements. 

gradually, she begins pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lewd and shameless moans leaving your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. she moves her thumb to your clit, pushing into it and causing as much pressure as possible, and it's not long before you cum with a yell of her name, babbling nonsense as she guides you through it. head in her neck as is hers in yours. 

“‘m so sorry” ellie continuously repeats as her fingers still work at a relentless pace inside you “i'm so so sorry, ill never do that to you again.” she moves up and bites your earlobe, continuing to pilot you through your orgasm before halting her movements completely and removing herself from your body. 

you lean back against the wall, eyes closed in content as you feel the droplets of water hit your skin, your water bill is gonna be so fucking high this month, all ellie does it look at you. admiring you in this post fucked out state. you reach your hand out, a silent request for her to take it and she does, right after turning off the stream for you. 

“that was… amazing.” you breathe out happily, she beams at the peaceful look on your face as you peel your eyes open, ellie's smile making you crack your own. 

“i'm glad,” she kisses you once more, the two of you smiling into it. 

“we’re okay?” she asks 

“we’re okay.” you confirm, and ellie has never been happier 

“how about we continue this in the bedroom?” ellie suggests, and you grab her instantly to lead her out. 

people who asked to be tagged: @a-little-bit-of-everybody ! @lmaoo-spiderman @macaroni676 @p4ison1vy @fatbootymuncher @elliessweetheart

#aria's fics ೀ ! #do not support neil druckmann #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #elliewilliams #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #mdni banner by @cafekitsune #lace divider by @v6que

[misctf]

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

#male tf #straight to gay #male transformation #mental change #twink tf #dumber tf

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: in which Katsuki sees you get rid of a scrap book you planned to give him after he broke up with you

The breakup was… rough to say the least. You supposed it could have been described as a perfect mirror image to your relationship to begin with; the crushing pain of Katsuki being Katsuki.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles loudly from outside of the Heights Alliance building as he waited in the cold for you. Everyone was out doing something with the group, and Katsuki could not have been more quietly grateful. Even though he was going to rip your beating heart straight out of your body, he wanted you to maintain the dignity and pride that he had originally fallen in love with.

It wasn’t like Katsuki had woke up that morning and decided that he was going to break up with you; months of inner self-depreciation crept into his thoughts day by day, alongside the crippling realisation of his ex-victim’s strength and progress. The weight of his existence was slowly crashing around him, and he needed all of his attention for his strength.

Unfortunately, that meant cutting away dead weight.

Your happy humming could be heard as you wandered your way to your boyfriend. Your face lightened at the sight of him, before your smile drops at his scowl.

“Hi, Suki! Is everything alright?” You asked him worriedly, head tilted to the side. Katsuki’s scowl deepened, causing you to reach out to him.

“Suki please, you’re starting to worry me,” your voice rang through his ears as his hand locked around your wrist before it could reach his fluffy locks. There was a long pause as you retracted your hand, staring wildly at your boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he sneered. If he was going to break your heart, he had to rip it out and shove it in the blender. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took your hand back.

“Katsuki, I-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki.

“Don’t fucking call me that either,” he grunted, shoving his hand in his pocket. Tears threatened to prick at your eyes.

“I’m breaking this thing up. It’s not worth my time at all. I’m training to be the number one hero, so I have no time to waste on other useless shit,” his gaze steeled, no ounce of insincerity to be detected. His words cut deep like a sword, your knees feeling weak as tears cling to your lashes.

“Y-you don’t mean that,” you sniffed. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh.

“Don’t I? Look, I guess it was fun when it started, but my priorities haven’t changed. You were just a distraction, something I could put my mind to. I’m not wasting any more time on you, so just leave me alone. I don’t care what you do, or who you get with. Just don’t fucking talk to me anymore, got it?”

His strength was impressive, you thought. How he could say such horrible things to you without buckling or feeling barbed wire dig into his throat. You could only stare at him with tears in your eyes, before shakily nodding. You turned at your heels and unsteadily walked off, before delving into a run back to the dorms.

Katsuki waited until you left. And he waited. And he waited. Until your sobs could no longer be heard. His body shook, before hushed hiccups and cries left his lips. His exhausted body slumped against the wall, shaky hands knuckling at his wet eyes. Well, his dirty deed was done.

Life afterwards was rough for you. After being together for 10 months, your daily routine stung in ways you didn’t know was possible. You found yourself stopping during tasks you had grown unconscious to; you had to stop texting him during the day. Even just the silly thoughts in your head couldn’t be translated in a text to him.

You could only make protein shakes for one now. Laundry loads grew lighter, snack trips became quicker and physical touch with others withdrew exponentially. For the next month, you rotted in your dorm. You ate when Mina would bring you food, her hugging you tightly and angrily grumbling about how much of a dick her friend was.

You managed to stumble to class when you didn’t oversleep the day away. Insomnia plagued you like the Black Death, tossing and turning as you tearfully mourned the relationship you lost. You arrived to class way later than your ex would, avoiding all eye contact even though you were deskmates. (You soon requested a seat change).

Aizawa had had enough when you stumbled late to his lesson for the 5th time, demanding you stay back after class. You gulped and felt your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that your teacher called you out.

The bell for the end of class sounded, bringing you out of your daze.

“(L/N), stay behind please,” came the tired drone of Mr Aizawa. Mina offered you a smile and a rub on the back as she walked off with Kirishima, throwing you a sympathetic look when she left.

Mr Aizawa cleared his throat as he signalled for you to take a seat in front of his desk. He continued marking some papers as his onyx eyes slightly looked at you.

“Your grades are slipping. You’re arriving late to class. You’re avoiding… certain classmates. If you’re struggling, I’d recommend telling me now and continuing the course. If not, pack your bags and take your grievances elsewhere. We’re training heroes, so you need to be exemplary,” he said bluntly, eyes flickering back to his paper.

You sniffled a little, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr Aizawa. I’ll be better,” you promised dully, wiping your eyes on a tissue. His eyes looked back at you.

“I’m not an idiot. I can tell that you and Bakugou have come to some sort of disagreement. If it can get sorted, I would recommend making up as soon as possible-,” he starts.

“We broke up. He… he dumped me. He said such… horrible things to me. About me,” you whimpered, face screwed up as you clutched your uniform. Aizawa stopped writing before putting down his pen.

“I-I know I’m not exactly as composed as Todoroki, or as fast as Iida or as smart as Yaomomo, but I thought there was something about me that he liked. It just hurts how quickly he discarded me. I’m sorry for disturbing your lessons Mr Aizawa, it won’t happen again,” you quietly cried as you sunk your head in shame.

Only to lift your teary head as Mr Aizawa’s large hand encompassed your scalp. He looked at you with slight concern as you wiped your eyes.

“While it’s true that some of your classmates have advantages that you do not, a real hero doesn’t sell themselves short. Where Todoroki is composed, you’re bubbly and outgoing. Although Iida is fast, he often lacks the ability to let loose and enjoy the small things. And yes, Yaoyorozu is a prodigy student due to private schooling, but you put in the hard work and reap the rewards” his words soothed you as he softly rubbed your head.

“A real hero wouldn’t let someone who had to be chained up at the sports festival make them cry. So don’t sell yourself short. That boy has been in far too many detentions to have the nerve to point out your shortcomings,” he finished, removing his hand and gently pressing his fist into your shoulder.

“Understand me? I’ll let this incident pass if you can prove to me that you can put in the rest of the work and be a hero that everyone can put their faith in.”

The tears returned, but for a completely different reason. You quickly hugged Aizawa, his face immediately shifting into one of discomfort before gingerly patting your back. He let out his signature sly grin.

“Besides, if he tries anything, I can always say to Gang Orca that he needs more classes at the provisional licensing centre.”

You smiled at your home room teacher.

“Thank you Mr Aizawa,” you said, releasing him. He let out a small cough.

“Thank me with your actions. Tell anyone I let you hug me and it’s detention for the next month, understand?” He grilled you.

“I understand sir,” you giggled.

“Now go find Ashido, I can smell her anticipation from here,” he instructed.

“Yes sir.”

After Mr Aizawa’s curt but helpful words, you aimed on self improvement. You focused on bettering a routine, sleeping more and eating healthier. Days you would have spent rotting in bed were forced into activities with your classmates.

The breakup still stung like a knife, but it was easier to manage and slowly dwindled down to a papercut. You hadn’t talked to your ex in 2 months, only sly glances when he wasn’t looking.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki was absolutely miserable. Seeing you rot and struggle to cope absolutely murdered him inside knowing that he was the person who ripped your heart out, and that he couldn’t stitch it back together. He managed to keep his own composure, training even harder to avoid seeing you or bumping into you.

He nearly passed out from training, he was overworking so hard. It was his own fault, he knew that. He just couldn’t work past his issues with you there; you didn’t deserve to be at the end of his shitty stick.

The pride he felt when you started cleaning yourself up and interacting more with your classmates made his chest swell. You looked so much more beautiful and radiant; the person he fell in love with.

And dumped.

“Stupid fucking Sparky, gettin’ sick and makin’ me do his chores,” Katsuki grumbled, arms overflowing with bin bags as he stumbled to the large bins. It had been 2 months since your breakup. Or, even worse; your 1 year anniversary.

His heart was absolutely wrecked, but he could now slide quick glances to you without fear of you looking at him. He was so proud that you were able to overcome his asshole behaviour, and hopefully swallow any more feelings that you had about him. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling.

He peeked his head around the corner, dropping the bin bags as quietly as he could. His eyes widened. You were stood near the incinerator, a thick book wedged in your hands.

Tears slowly trickled down your face as you looked at the book. A small smile appeared as you thumbed the cover.

“I… I thought we would have made it. I don’t know, I thought it was all going so well. I know I’ll never probably understand what was going through your head that day, but… it’s time to let go of the past,” you say quietly, rubbing your teary eyes as you open the incinerator door.

“I loved you, god fucking damnit! More than I think I could have ever loved anyone! I suppose a small part of me always will now, though. I just thought we had a better chance. Happy one year anniversary, Katsuki,” you finish as you let out a sob, throwing the book into the furnace. You ran off before checking that the book was fully inside the furnace, slamming the door and running back inside.

Katsuki waited until your steps made no noise, before running forward and pulling the book from the furnace. It was a scrapbook; the book was ridiculously chunky, with glitter glue and doodles smothering the outside, as well as stickers from your combined favourite TV shows. The furnace had charred a large chunk of the book, the smell permeating his nose.

Then he saw your names scrawled neatly in cursive. His heart started to thud as he thumbed the pages.

Polaroid photos of you on dates were plastered neatly on the pages; some photos he remembered, others he had no recollection of. Movie ticket stubs, post it notes with cute messages detailing your affections, stickers you gifted each other, silly photos from photo booths that you dragged him into.

Each page was a flash of white-hot pain. There were photos of him during a festival winning you a fish from a difficult carnival game, his eyes smoked beautifully with eyeliner as he grinned (and won the fish). He wonders if you still had it.

Another photo of his birthday party. The two of you had snuck off to your favourite spot in the woods, where he found that you had created your own picnic spot with a spread of his favourite foods. Photos of shy hand-holding, of him resting in your lap and vice versa.

Katsuki was struggling to see the paper for the tears he tried so desperately to blink away before reaching the last page. A whole page was filled with your writing, and Katsuki had to knuckle his eyes to read it.

Dearest Katsuki,

Wow, a year already! I’m so happy that we’ve come so far, my love. I’m so indebted to you for everything that you’ve done for me; helped me with training, putting up with me, hell even just being there for me.

I know I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with, I know I’m easily excitable and not exactly quiet. I love and appreciate that you can listen to me and not get bored, just as I do with you.

Training to be a hero is hard work, so I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to take your journey with me, even though you’re training so hard to become number one.

I love you more than words can ever describe; you’re the reason I wake up everyday. I adore you, and I hope we can have many more years together kicking ass and beating Deku >o<

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Your (N/N)

Katsuki couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down his face. Reading your words of quiet insecurity, thanking him for things that he threw right back into your face like you were nothing made his heart ache so badly.

He clutched the scrapbook to his chest tightly, sending silent but desperate apologies to you as his head sunk to the floor. Guttural cries escaped him as his choices swirled through his head. The scrapbook’s cover buckled due to the force of his grip as he sobbed his heart out.

Months of self deprecation caught up to him as he craved your touch; he wanted you to hear him, to turn around and hold him tightly to your chest and never ever let go ever again. He needed your sweet affirmations as you played with his hair; “my number one hero,” you would croon as you hugged your tired boyfriend.

His stupid pride got in his way once again, and he finally came to the one conclusion he should have met those 2 fateful months ago.

He couldn’t do this without you.

The trip back to Heights Alliance was a painful one, but Mina hugged away your issues as soon as she saw your misty orbs.

“I’m so proud of you for doing this bestie. You deserve so much better. It’s time to let go of the past,” she told you softly, pink hair tickling your face. You smiled at your best friend.

“Thank you for everything Mina, I really mean it,” you sniffle, wiping your nose and taking a deep breath. You let go of your friend as you smiled at her.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap, training was super rough today,” you told her, squeezing her hand as she squeezes back.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Mina promised, giving you one last hug.

You gave her a wan smile as you walked to your dorm room, throwing a pained look at your exes room. You shook your head as you unlocked the door and got changed into some comfy clothes. Tired bones sunk onto your bed as you let out a sigh.

“It’s time to let go of the past,” you murmur as you fell asleep. As soon as you were about to beat Shigaraki to a pulp, a loud knocking on your door pulled you from your dream.

The knocking was quiet at first, then grew louder, more desperate. You thought it was Mina, and that you had skipped dinner.

You let out a tired laugh, getting out of bed and redoing your hair.

“Okay, okay Mina, I’m coming-“ your voice was cut short as you opened the door, seeing a disgruntled ex staring at the floor.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the scrapbook, as you looked on in shock. How did he get it?! He wasn’t there when you- oh fuck.

Katsuki raised his head, volcanic eyes plagued with tears as he wildly searched your face. He gingerly reached for your hand before sinking to his knees, placing your hand on his face.

“P-please take me back. I know I was a dick, but I’m willing to show you all of my vulnerabilities. Please baby,” he raised his head again.

“I can’t live without you.”

#🥀 rambles #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou angst #open ending bc fuck yall #nah I can’t be arsed to write an ending lol #so don’t get pissy with me #bakugou katsuki x reader angst #katsuki angst #bnha x reader angst #MHA x reader angst #Katsuki x reader

[keravnous]

bathroom b!tch; tangerine/fem!reader (smut; 18+)

part two | part three | part four

playlist: train quickie with tangerine

Tangerine meets you in one of the bathrooms on the bullet train. He just wants to clean up after his tussle with Ladybug and get rid of the blood, but he could use you to blow off some steam as well. You know: he has to take it if he sees it.

word count: 5,9k

warnings: mirror sex, bathroom sex, semi public, fingering, oral (female receiving), blood (it's tangerine's), squirting, dry humping, rather rough sex, unprotected sex, light choking, confined spaces, dirty talk, name calling, kinda a quickie?, tangerine's a little rude but surprisingly gentle too idk he's just like that, he just needs to fuck the adrenaline outta himself, i have very strong feelings about this angry man

title is from the song of the same name, bathroom bitch by holychild

also thank you v for a) helping me out with Japanese and b) by telling me what being a passenger on a bullet train feels like

You knew it was a bad idea.

Starring at yourself in the impressively clean mirror of the small bathroom, you try your best to hold back any fresh tears.

You knew that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work. You fucking knew it and yet you accepted your fiancés pleas to Just try it. Maybe, it indeed would've worked out if he wasn't fucking his bloody secretary.

You regret leaving London. You miss your home.

You're not even that heartbroken, you just feel exhausted, like you wasted an awful lot of time.

You take a long, good look at yourself. Bloodshot eyes and a sad hue resting over your pupils, turning the colour dark and deep. The dress, that you bought for your anniversary brunch – a surprise, quite as much as the one he gave you, when you walked in on him, balls deep in his secretary – now looks oddly strange, out of place on you. You feel overdressed and ashamed, foolish.

But there’s something else, too: the loneliness that followed suite after your screaming, after fighting with him - after breaking up with him. It's been there since you boarded the train to Nagoya but now it rolls over you like a wave of-

Thump, thump.

"What the fuck", you mutter, taking a ragged breath, before yelling out, "Occupied!"

You just want to be left at fucking peace, not being watched by other passengers as you're bawling your eyes out. All you want is to get off that train and burn some of that fucker’s money on a spontaneous vacation. All you want is for the remaining days in Japan to be good ones.

Another sharp knock follows. This one rattles the door.

It takes a moment for you to scramble for the right words, the ones you have picked up when visiting your fiancé before. "Shiyouchu!"

Another knock. And another.

Motherfucker.

You clench your teeth - saying goodbye to the precious moments of crying in silence for the year you've lost to the most useless relationship of all fucking mankind - and wipe away the wetness below your eyes to open the door. "I said-"

Oh.

Oh shit.

There's a very handsome man waiting outside the door. He is towering over you, impatience plastered on his face and seeping through his every movement, with the way he's leaning against the door frame.

He's hot.

Also, he's dripping in blood.

His light blue shirt, once crisp and clean, is now disshelved and just as stained as his expensive looking dark-blue vest.

"Jesus, fuck, are you alright?", you blurt out.

The man's raising an eyebrow. "Could be asking you the same, love. Now, would you please get the fuck outta there."

He's moving towards you, closing in the last few inches separating the two of you. Your gaze is focused on the nasty cut on his arm.

"You're bleeding", you say dumbly.

His eyes shoot up at you and for a split-second you feel like you are face to face with a predator. The anxiety, that the blood and his rude behaviour sparked in your chest, sends adrenaline pumping through your veins and has the muscles your legs preparing for fight or flight. He blinks.

"I know", he says and his lips curl up to something, that you're convinced is supposed to be a smile, "Now, if ya'd be so kind?"

He gestures behind you, towards the empty bathroom.

"No?", you say, voice shooting up a little, which immediately has him cautiously throwing a glance down the hall to his right, "No, I won't! You need help, how the fuck -- what the fuck happened?"

"You're starting to really get on my fuckin’ tits, pretty thing. Would y'just let me the fuck inside?", he growls, tilting his head towards you. His tone has the hairs on your arms rising, as he is starring you into the ground.

You back up, colliding unpleasantly with the doorframe, that nearly drills itself into your left shoulder.

"Thank you, Lady", he's squeezing past you and then turns around again, giving you a quick one-over. You are unable to move, mesmerized by the way he's looking at you.

The corners of his mouth tilt up again and one of his hands, a little sticky and red with his own blood, comes up to his face, straightening his moustache, as his gaze runs over your body once more. You should leave, you should run - clearly, something is awfully and so not right but you just can't, being glued to the spot by his eyes.

It shouldn't make your loins grow hot, but you can't help it. You feel your belly tingle, shooting sparks down down down between your legs. He is very attractive and the aura of pure fucking danger that wafts around him doesn’t do what it normally should do – instead, it pulls you in. Oh, aren’t you just fucked.

"What were y'saying about help, again?", the man murmurs, gaze locking with yours.

"Uuuh", it's a very stupid sound you make and his eyes spark up at that, lips giving room to flash some teeth, "I-I just said you look like you might need some help?"

"Well, maybe I do."

He licks his lower lip and you blink, gaze following the movement.

This is very stupid. This is risky, dangerous, and most likely something you are going to regret.

It's not only the situation, it's him, too. He seems dangerous. It's not only the blood, mind you. It’s the way he moves, how his eyes dart through the room, over your body. It’s the aggression in his voice that he’s trying to hide, cover up but ultimately fails, something that seeps through every pore of him.

But he's also just ridiculously hot, walking with his crotch first, heavy northern British accent swirling the words around his tongue and, fuck, it's mostly the way he's looking at you.

And you're just so fucking full of anger and grief and your life feels strangely directed and determined by your shitty-ass fiancé and there's so much rage and sadness -

You take a step into the bathroom and the door slides shut behind you.

"Good", he hums, "Because you do look, like you could also use some help."

The door locks behind you and take another step forward, approaching him. "You have no fucking idea", revenge sex is a very stupid concept but now, it seems very tempting. It's exciting and makes you feel oddly alive.

"Did'ya get dumped?", and you don't know why you trust him with that information but you can hear yourself say: "Cheated on. Fiancé of twelve months." There is a hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can smell him now, the blood on his skin and clothes, the heavy scent of his perfume – it’s warm and thick, vanilla and fruit, like an orange grove.

"Allow me the comment - that's one bloody stupid bastard."

You look up at him and blink. That man's insanely pretty and you swallow as he pulls you in even closer, your hand connecting with his chest. It is firm and warm and your fingers get a little sticky with the fresh blood on his shirt. They splay out, feeling the firm muscle flex beneath the expensive fabric.

"How much time d'we have, sugar?", he hums, runs his thumb across your lower lip.

"I have to get off in Nagoya."

"Gonna get you off alright now, sweetie", you roll your eyes at that and he chuckles, "Bit more than half'n hour I'd say. Think we can manage that?"

You nod while biting your lip, adrenaline thick and heavy in your veins, pumping your blood down south and making you wet wet wet, and he laughs at that, runs his tongue along his bright, bright teeth.

It's sheer excitement that has your belly tingle and you lock your eyes with his, the darkening blueish green pulling you in and then he leans down, locks his lips with yours.

They are soft and warm and his moustache tingles a little. You hum against his lips, one hand fisting his vest as the other sneaks up his muscular arm, runs over and through the blood, up up up next to the cut and comes a halt on his neck. The hand on your waist holds you close, fingers spread out delicately as he starts to feel you up.

His tongue darts out and licks over your lips and you gladly give him more room, parting your lips slightly. He's pushing in, licking into your mouth. You hum deep in your throat, pressing against him, tasting the cigarette smoke on his lips.

You can feel the bulge in his pants, his dick pressing hotly against your lower belly. It ignites your loins, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.

You moan into his mouth and he responds by pushing you back, heaving you up the small sink, deepening the kiss. Your back presses against the mirror as you clutch onto him, hand running up his neck and into his hair, slick with product and a little sticky with sweat. Your knees hit his hipbones and the man starts to roll his hips into yours, having his hard dick rubbing against your crotch and your eyelids flutter with the feeling. He's rock-hard and so so hot through his dress pants and you can't fucking wait to get to it.

He eventually breaks the kiss, breath ragged as his eyes roam over your face, hands feeling your thighs up. You decide that you need more of him and thus, your free hand roams over his chest, fingers making quick work of his vest. As soon as you pop the last button, he hastily tears it off of himself, throws it to the ground where it lands with a quiet thud.

"C'mon sweetheart, I know you clammin' to touch me", he says, voice deep and raspy and you do - like you're on fucking autopilot. Your hands dart out, roaming over his defined chest. He feels nice and firm and makes you want him more, want to feel all of him, all at once.

He hums quietly, as you open a few buttons of his shirt and run your hands over the sweaty, warm skin, through the dust of fine chest hair, making his chain rustle. He feels nice and it makes you want him.

The man looks up from your hands and you don't know what has come over you as your hand glides up further, cupping his neck, thumb on his jawline. "Fuck me", you breathe, "Fuck me 'til I can't walk."

He grins and leans in even closer, his clothed and hard dick pressing against your wet panties, as he's kissing a wet trail from your jaw to your ear. "Who would've thought - such a naugh'y lil'mouth on such a pretty woman."

You hook one leg around his waist, tugging lightly at the hair that's curling in his neck as he starts to suck on your neck. The slight pain ignites your lust, has arousal blooming and wetness pooling between your legs. You want to tell him to stop, before he marks you up for good as --

"Name's Tangerine", he suddenly rasps, as his tongue rubs over the spot he has been sucking on and you're pretty damn sure that he just gave you a hickey.

"Like the-"

"The fucking fruit, yeah. 'M gonna burst you more like something of a cherry, though", he rumbles, quietly laughing to himself with his fingers digging into your hips.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he presses himself flush against you - all firm muscles, perfume, and hot skin - tongue licking over your throat like the hot blade of a knife, dancing over your jaw.

It's most likely not his real name and that should really, really alert you. But it doesn't - instead you surrender yourself to him, letting your head fall back and parting your legs, inviting him in.

And the man -Tangerine - follows suite and shoves your dress up up up, runs his hands over your now exposed thighs. You lean forward a little, until your lips brush over his. "Name's Y/N", you whisper and his eyes glint a little at that, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, you gon' be a fun one", he grins and you do too, before leaning in and kissing him again. He is less gentle now, keen on getting you hot, his kisses turn sloppy quickly, biting your lower lip and licking into your mouth until you lack air. The thumbs on your legs dive in deeper, until they connect with your crotch. And then, one of them gently runs over your soaked panties.

Tangerine breaks the kiss, wet lips brushing over the corner of your mouth, only to inhale sharply - keeps his cheeks puffed theatrically for a short moment, then exhales just as sharply, eyeing you up and down. "Jesus Christ, that pussy of yours s'fucking wet, innit?", he rumbles and two of his fingers run over the wet fabric once more, slowly starting to rub your clit.

You gasp, hips bucking a little and you watch the way his hand vanishes under the hem of your dress. "Fuck", you moan quietly as he quickly finds the spot that makes your thighs clench. He rubs you through your panties, soft lace turning wet wet wet and dampening his skin. Your mouth falls agape seeing his wrist twitching between your legs and the way he's looking down at it, a little mesmerized, makes your head swim. Then, he stops.

"Yeah, let's get those off", he mutters, more to himself than to you and then he's tugging at the straps of your panties, riiips the lace and tears them apart. "Oh-", you gasp unintelligently as he carelessly drops them to the ground and you really don't fucking mind at all.

It's the first time in a long time that you feel wanted, like someone's actually hungry, greedy for you. And it turns you on. A lot. It is like Tangerine has flipped a switch and you want him just as much as he seems to want you. And you want it now.

You blink at him through your lashes. "You gonna touch me now?"

"Easy, love", he chuckles, genuinely amused and then his fingers are slooowly creeping back over your legs, until his index finger finally touches your exposed cunt. The touch is cold, but not unpleasant and you suck in a sharp breath, one that hitches in your throat.

He watches you, as he runs it over your pussy, quickly joined by a second, digits running up and down, spreading your slick. You hum, pleasure building up in your abdomen and then, finally, his fingers return to your clit.

Slow, wide circles spread your lips apart, making you moan and throwing your head back in pleasure. His bracelet clinks as he quickly picks up a faster rhythm, keen on seeing you coming loose, circles growing smaller.

"Oh shit, yes that's fucking it", you can feel arousal building in your stomach, shooting through your body. Tangerine laughs under his breath and his lips are onto you again, licking and sucking over your straightened neck. You don't give a fuck anymore, the slight pain of him bruising your skin makes your hips buck and rolling against his digits.

"Such a good girl, ain't ya?, he groans against your neck and it sends shivers down your spine as you're moaning and gasping, nodding frantically.

Your body feels like it has been ignited, with the way his fingers rub your clit, teasing your pussy and then there's one finger circling your hole and fuck, you really fucking need it. You spread your legs farther and Tangerine puuushes in, sinks one rather cold finger in your hole, your hot hot skin meeting the cold gold of his ring.

Tangerine starts to fuck you slowly, finger pushing in and out of you, until you're loose enough to take a second one. His rings thrust against your hole every time he pushes them back inside and the sensation has you whining, his lips still glued to your neck, occasionally moving down down down to you cleavage, licking fat stripes over your warm, sweaty skin.

A flood of very good, very dangerous emotions has one of your hands abandoning the sink, instead running up his arm, splaying across his shoulder. You can feel the muscles working slightly beneath the light blue fabric, a little dampened by his sweat. "Fuck, you make me so hot, shit, that feels so good", you whimper quietly, gasping as his fingers push even deeper. It seems to kick Tangerine off, moustache grazing your skin as he’s picking up an even faster rhythm - rubbing, circling your clit faster, adding more pressure - obscene squelching sounds filling the air of the small bathroom. You moan as pleasure shoots up your spine, has you rocking on and against his fingers.

You can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, hole fluttering against the cold, golden rings and then --

He breaks from your throat and whistles lowly as fresh wetness pools around his fingers, your squirt dampening his golden bracelet and the cuff of his shirt.

Tangerine pulls his fingers out of you slowly, slick with your juices and looks at them for a few seconds, the way your wetness is glistening on his skin in the dim lights. He brings them up up up, gaze connecting with yours and then -

They go past his lips, as his tongue darts out and licks them clean. You blink - once, twice. "Fuck", you breathe, and he chuckles.

"You taste like a fuckin' dream, love", his hands push your legs further apart and before you know it, he sinks down to his knees. You blink at him, as he lifts the hem of your dress up, "Might wanna hold that f'me", and you do, pulling the fabric as high up as you can, exposing yourself to him further.

Tangerine tsks as he takes the sight in and you can feel your cheeks growing hot, burning red, as his fingers dance over your pussy.

"Don't ya just have the prettiest cunt?", he hums, running his fingers through your folds, "'M gonna fuck ya so good."

"Jesus, Tangerine", you huff out, legs shaking a little as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit.

Tangerine looks up at you, smirking a little and then he's leaning in, hands coming to rest on your thighs, forcing your legs apart. He's not breaking eye contact, keeps your gazes chained together, as he dives in and licks a long, fat stripe from your hole upwards to your clit.

You fucking mewl, as his moustache rubs over your sensitive skin, tongue circling your clit for a short moment. His eyes gleam up at you, watching your reaction as his tongue swipes down, over your folds to your hole, teasing it. It has your legs kicking a little and you grab the sink with both your hands, as your thighs give a quick shake.

You can hear him chuckle deep in his throat and it makes you hot hot hot all over, with the way his tongue crawls back up, lips grazing your cunt and then he's onto your clit once more, gently lapping at it, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.

A strangled noise escapes your throat as arousal rushes through your abdomen and up up up your whole body, has your chest heaving with a ragged breath and rolling your hips forward. It's so so good, but not enough - you just need more.

"Don't ya move, love", Tangerine rasps and one of his hands grabs your hips forcefully, dress sliding up to your navel as he's holding you in place. The other crawls up your lower leg and thigh, teasing your folds and then one finger presses against your hole, pushes in roughly.

You moan as he immediately starts to fuck you with it, pumping your wetness in and out of you with a rather merciless rhythm, keen on having you come for him, having you squirt once more.

His eyelids flutter, long and dark lashes against his pale skin as his tongue licks over your folds, tasting your wetness and taking your scent in. You're tasting so so sweet to him, like a fucking forbidden fruit that he's going to devour anyways, because he can and he will and because fuck the rules he had set himself for this job.

He closes his eyes as he pushes a second finger into you, pumping them in and out of you, while his tongue laps at your cunt, lips closing in around your folds, gently sucking. His fingers are fucking you fast now, pushing you further and further.

"Oh god", you gasp, one hand still holding your own weight, the other now fisting his hair, pulling it. It seems to spur him on, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, gently nibbling at the soft skin as his finger pumps into you. It's even better than before, with his beard scratching you and his tongue and lips gliding over your cunt as if it were a riddle he's going to solve without his hands. The heel of your shoe digs into his back - desperate for any leverage, to just feel him - as you are nearing your release.

"Shit, fuck fuck fuck", your voice sounds strange in your ears, high-pitched and far far away, between the squelching sounds that his rapidly moving fingers pull out of your pussy, "I'm gonna-"

He hums and then, after a short moment, pulls his digits out of you and grabs your hips hard, holding you in place, not stopping his tongue from rubbing over your cunt hard.

It tips you over the edge, has you breaking loose. You gasp loudly, throwing your head back against the mirror, incoherent rambling leaving your lips as you come - riding your orgasm out on his face as he licks you through your orgasm, your hips bucking wildly with it.

As your orgasm rolls over you, you already know that this isn't over. Usually, you would be spent for now, calm and a little tired but right now - you're not at all, lust still rolling over you, fresh wetness pooling between your legs again. "Mhm, shit", you breathe, feet kicking a little as Tangerine's tongue continues to flick over your clit. You are still wet, already desperate for more, more of him.

All you can think about is his hard dick, that you've felt earlier pressing against your crotch and pure want tingles in your stomach. Tangerine's lips close in around your throbbing clit, overstimulation making your head swim.

"Please, fuck, please", your hip bucks against his iron grip that holds you steadily against the sink. Tangerine looks up at you again and let’s go of your clit with an obscene pop. His moustache is dampened by your wetness as he grins up at you. "Please please", he mocks your high-pitched whines and then smirks, "Wan'it that bad, love?"

"Need you - ah, fuck - inside me. Oh, shit", you whine, as your hole clenches around nothing, desperate for more than his fingers. You are so turned on by this stranger, lust crashing over your body like waves - you can feel its tingle in your chest, your legs, feeling your pussy desperate for another touch.

Tangerine blinks for a moment and you're sure, that you saw his eye twitch and then he, very dramatically, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Shit, love, you make me feel all sorts o'things", he says quietly and then quickly gets up, wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

He leans in and his lips lock with yours again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, as he licks into your mouth, grinning against your lips, damp stache rubbing over your upper lip. He licks over it, groans deep in his throat, while his hands brush over your legs, before he commands, whispers against your lips: "Bend over the sink f'me.”

"What?", you blink, words not really reaching you through the lustful haze that has wrapped your brain in like cotton candy. All you can do is look at him, at this very handsome stranger with the very fake name and he has your head swimming, brain giving in and surrendering to lust once more.

You take the hand he offers you as he helps you down the sink, your legs a little wobbly. "Alright c'mon now, girl, don't keep me waitin'", Tangerine gives you a light pat on the cheek, rings barely connecting with your skin - a patronizing gesture that has your knees going ever weaker for a moment as you try to turn around, hands gripping the edges of the sink.

You watch him in the mirror, as he makes quick work of his belt and the fly of his trousers. As he pulls his dick out, your mouth waters. It's long and big and has just the right girth, a drop of precum glistening on its tip. You'd really like to suck that cock, like right motherfucking now.

Tangerine looks at you. "Got all hungry fo'it?", and you nod - breathing out Fuck yeah - arching your back for him, "Alright love, just a minute."

He spits in his hand and rubs the saliva over his dick, giving himself one, two strokes. You arch your back, keeping your eyes on him as he grabs your hips hard, lines himself up, head of his dick resting against your hole - all hot and hard - and then he finally, finally pushes himself in. The stretch is nice and has you squirming a little with the dull pain, excitement lighting your nerves up.

"Jesus Christ", his head falls forward a little, "You're so fuckin' tight."

He bottoms out, forcing himself in deep, holding still. You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, but he doesn't move and you can see his chest heaving, hear him grunt. His hand roams over your bare ass, shoving the dress even higher, until your back is partly exposed and his hand creeps around your body, over your stomach and under the dress, slips beneath your bra and cups one of your tits.

Tangerine squeezes it, feels you up and then pulls his dick back out only to quickly push himself back in. The sound that leaves your throat is nothing but desperate and your hand grips the sink harder, knuckles slowly turning white. His jaw is going a little slack as he rolls his hips into you, fucking you slowly.

"Ah shit", he groans, a deep and coarse sound, that makes you shiver, "Doesn't that just feel lovely?"

He watches the way his dick pumps into your pussy, eyebrows drawn together, lips slightly agape - until his gaze meets yours in the mirror once more and there it is - a shadow that dances over his eyes, turning the mesmerizing blue and green dark dark dark. One of his hands suddenly darts forward, rings glimmering in the dim light, only to roughly grab your chin, forcefully holding your head in place. It hurts a little, but the pain feels good, the way it stretches your back and intensifies the arch of it, forces you to look at him and yourself. Your mascara is pooling beneath your eyes, pupils blown wide and cheeks reddened.

"Would'ya just look at yourself", Tangerine groans, "Ya might be the hottest fucking thing I've seen in a long fuckin' time --" He groans again, thumb catching your lower lip and you moan as you watch his face coming a little loose with pleasure.

Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, thrusting into you and you push your hips back, meeting him - desperate for more more more. He grins at you in the mirror and his hand creeps a little lower, until it rest riiight below your jawline and then -

Then he squeezes.

It has you gasping, choking a little at the sudden loss of air and the feeling of your windpipe being closed. Your hip bucks against his and he licks his lips.

The lack of air has adrenaline rushing through your veins once more, as his dick pushes against your spongy hot walls and you feel your body surrendering to him fully, the small voice in the back of your head remembering you that You are at his mercy has you growing even wetter.

The hand lets go off your throat, now gently holding your head in place and you suck in a few deep breaths, gasping, greedily sucking in the air, as --

There must be a bump on the rails, as the wagon suddenly lifts a little and has you thrown forward towards the mirror, shoves his dick deeper into you. You moan, instinctively catching his eyes in the mirror.

His lips are slightly parted, eyes darkened by lust and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. The train speeds up just as he leans forward, throws his chest against your back. His body is so so hot against yours and your walls flutter around his dick, as his scent wraps you in once more.

Tangerine lowers his head, until his forehead rests on your shoulder, cock twitching inside of you. "Ya have no bloody idea what'cha doin' to me, Lady", he says, voice coarse and dark and your eyelids flutter, "'M gonna ruin ya."

He lifts his head a little and your gazes connect in the mirror once more. A shiver runs down your spine - he means it.

And you feel it, too, as he thrusts into you once, knocks the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of it. The tip of his dick hits the spot perfectly and you nearly cry out in pleasure, hands gripping the sink tightly. There are small lines forming around his eyes as he's grinning against your shoulder, pulls out a little only to force himself back in, even deeper this time. The hand that was toying with your tit leaves, crawls back down and his arm wraps itself around your waist, holds you close.

Your legs shake as Tangerine picks up a faster rhythm, starts pounding in to you like a starved man, like an animal gone wild. It's in his eyes, hunger hunger hunger and you feel pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your abdomen. You squirt against his dick, wetting the trimmed pubic hair as his balls slap against your wet skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, a strangled high pitched whiny moan escaping your lips, as he hits your walls again, tip of his dick brushing over your g-spot, having you seeing stars. Your eyelids flutter, gasps escaping your mouth with every one of his thrusts.  

"Be fuckin' loud, you lil'slut, I don't care - one - bit", he says through gritted teeth, each word one thrust, "If they come knockin'. I’ll kill’em."

It shouldn’t – really, it shouldn’t – but it has your head swimming, rocking back against him, obscene sounds filling the small bathroom and you moan loudly. His jewellery rustles and clinks as he ruts into you, huffing against your shoulder. The force of his thrusts has your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll, hipbones bouncing against the sink, one of your hands coming loose and pressing flat against the mirror, desperate for any sort of leverage.

You can feel yourself clenching around him, white hot pleasure building on the edges of your brain, until there's nothing left but him him him.

"Fuck", you cry out, "I'm gonna fucking cum, shit shit shit", lips falling agape with pure pleasure. It’s too much and you can feel your muscles tensing.  

The hand around your throat tightens a bit more and that’s all you need – has your eyes falling shut, your second orgasm rolling over you. It knocks the air straight out of your lungs, has you going limp, while the muscles in your thighs and abdomen clench, holding and squeezing his dick inside of you.

You can hear him moan deeply, sounding far far away and then his cum hits your walls, paints it as he buries himself deep deep inside of you. You gasp, desperate for air and he lets go off your throat.

You suck in a few breaths and feel him doing the same, chest heaving against your back. "Fuck", he says and slowly straightens back up, looking at you in the mirror.

"Y'good over there, love?"

"Uh-huh", you hum, unable to speak, and blink at him. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are a little reddened, glistening with sweat.

Tangerine fucking winks at you and then slooowly, very carefully pulls out of you. You inhale sharply as you feel some of his cum following suite, dripping down your legs. You want to straighten up, too, clean it up, but he's quicker, taking one of the disposable towels and gently sweeps along your cunt.

"'S good, I can do that too, y'know", you say and take it from him, cleaning yourself up. For a long moment, while you can hear him putting himself back in his pants, there's silence between the two of you. Only, as you carefully put your dress back in place, does he look at you again.

"Be careful tonight, sweetheart", he says nonchalantly while tugging his shirt back into his slacks. He says it like it's nothing but it has the hairs on your body standing up.

I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. I’ll kill’em. You look on the slight stains that his blood left on your fingers, that soaked his shirt.

"Make you sure you get out of that train in Nagoya, y'hear me?", his gaze is soft as it lands upon you. Your brain goes numb with anxiety.

"Y-yeah, yeah sure. I'm meeting a friend there, wouldn't miss her for the world."

He smiles at that. A genuine, warm smile. It does something funny to your stomach. "Alright love, gotta dash", he's straightening his vest and giving himself a glance in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, "There's this chap I gotta get rid of. Gimme a call, when you're in London, would'ya?"

You just nod and take the slim, white card he hands you. The numbers on it are orange.

"Very fucking funny", you huff and he grins, leans down towards you, and places his lips on your cheek. The kiss is feather-light but it'll haunt you late at night in the weeks, months to come after the story of the crashed bullet train breaks the international news. But right now, it makes your chest tingle in all the right ways.

"Tis'a good girl, eh?", Tangerine whispers and then, throwing one last look at you, struts out of the door.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine x reader #my writing #smut #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #aaron taylor johnson

[iznsfw]

Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 

You don’t. 

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

-

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

-

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 

i miss you 

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 

What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 

Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” 

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?” 

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 

The tears finally fall from her eyes. 

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…” 

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

-

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fic #fic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #izone smut #actress smut #kim minju smut #izone minju smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #minju smut #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas 2023 #iz days of christmas 2023 day 7

[leviismybby]

Poison

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, slight nsfw, angst, kind of toxic?

It's quiet, the room echoed of your soft moans and his grunts. You hold onto him tightly, your legs wrapped around his hips, his thrusts passionate. He can feel your warm walls squeezing around him, his hands holding you tightly against his body. "Fuck....I am close.." You hear Levi whisper, his lips trafe your neck before he bites, his cock slamming into you faster. It sends a shiver up your spine, a loud whine escaping your swollen lips.

Levi's lips move from your neck to your jaw and then to your lips, he kisses you sloppily. The passionate thrusts slow down, your pussy clamps down on him as you cum and that's all Levi needs, he pulls out of you just in time and cums all over your sweaty stomach, his head falling on your chest. It takes a few seconds for both of you to settle down, he opens his eyes when you run your hand through his hair.

You two lay like that for a little bit, just enjoying the feeling of each others skin. Eventually, Levi pulls back and looks at you. "We made a fucking mess. Stay I'll be right back." Nodding at his words, you smile as you watch him walk over to his dresser, his hair was a mess and his back had your scratches down his back. He grabs a towel and walks back over to you, without a word, he cleans up your stomach, gently wiping it off. He takes thay time to scan your body up and down, admiring the love bites that he left on your skin.

"You okay?" He asks, Levi knows that he can be rough in bed and he would hate himself if he hurt you accidentally. "All good." You give him a smile that he doesn't return, he never does. Levi nods and stands up before getting dressed, you feel yourself wanting to say something, ask him to stay but it's useless, you won't change his mind. "You're leaving already?" It slips out anyway and you hate how desperate you sound for him to stay.

"Got things to do." His attention isn't on you, he is too focused on getting dressed and adjusting his straps. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating his skin which soon gets covered by the white fabric of his shirt. He uses your mirror to tie his cravat and fix his hair, by the time he is done, it's like you two never had sex.

Sitting up in bed, you sigh pulling the sheets over your naked body. "We have to talk about it eventually, Levi." There you go again, speaking before thinking, this catches Levi's attention and he turns to look at you while putting on his uniform jacket. "About what?" He knows, he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. "Us, this. All of it." You didn't want to sound angry but it comes out that way, you're frustrated with him and whatever it is going on between you.

Levi rolls his eyes and then sits on the bed to put his boots on. "Told you already, nothing to talk about." It's now your turn to roll your eyes, of course he acts this way when you get to him and you do get to him, more than he would like to admit. "Nothing? Is that way you always run away from it?" You will regret this, you can already tell. "I don't fucking run away from anything. There is nothing to run away from." A slight 'tch' leaves his lips as he stands up from your bed and then looks at you. "Don't fucking push it." He turns around to open the door but something stops him.

"What? Is the door locked?" The sarcasm in your voice makes the tension between you all the more noticeable. Levi doesn't have to turn around to know that you're tearing up, he hates hurting you, it's like a hundred titans bite him all at ones anytime he hurts your feelings. But he can't, there's too much at risk and you deserve better. Its already enough that he gives himself to you for those few hours of passion.

Levi turns around to look at you. "What are the tears for?" His voice is indifferent as if he is talking to anyone, a solider under his command, a stranger on a street, not you. "Nothing." You wipe them off with your hand but another wave of then keeps coming and you feel yourself tearing up again. "Good." He says. "Crying won't change my mind, nor make me stay. I told you that before." You shake your head, you feel like an idiot. "I don't care." The words coming out if your mouth meaning nothing with those tears in your eyes. "Neither do I." And with that he is out of your room, slamming the door behind him.

He made you cry a 100 times before, hurt your feeling a 100 times more but you'll always keep coming back to him. He was poison, venom that keeps going through your veins and no matter how hard you try, you'll never get rid of it.

#levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot levi #captain levi #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi x y/n #levi x reader smut #levi x reader angst #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi x female reader #levi x fem!reader #aot angst #aot smut #aot levi ackerman #levi aot

[fooled-around-and-fell]

Pretty Like This

summary: you found a dress in a cabin during patrol and brought it back home. joel doesn't know why you're suddenly acting odd around him, then he sees you wearing the dress.. and fuck you look beautiful.

pairing: joel miller x female reader

warning: smut - i know, finally. minors dni. cursing. fingering. oral - f receiving. apocalyptic breakdown. just a lot of thoughts with the world 'ending'. soft!dom joel. talks about death. angst. slightly fluffy.

a/n: i really like how this one turned out, guys. i haven't been able to really connect with my fics before, but this one... this one hits me. i hope you guys like it too.

masterlist

------

is it weird? maybe a little bit, but people loot all the time, right? especially with the outbreak and the need to survive, how can you not loot an empty cabin?

your guilty thoughts are interrupted when joel catches up to you on his horse, eyeing you slowly.

"you alright?"

"'m good." you press your lips to a thin line, clutching your backpack - where you had shoved the dress into.

joel says nothing more and just stares at you quietly. he knows you're not gonna say anything even if he pushes your buttons, so he'll just have to wait until you're ready to talk.

once you've returned the horses to the stables, you immediately walk back home. maybe a bit too hurriedly because joel had to grab your hand and stop you for a second, he looks incredibly worried.

"you…" he pauses and then clears his throat. "you're not gettin' anything to eat?"

you shake your head, "not that hungry."

he nods and lets go of your arm. "alright. i'll see you at home."

you nod back at him and start leaving. you're actually pretty hungry, but you want to increase your chances of fitting into the dress, so no dinner it is.

once you arrive back at your house, you wash the dress and put it in the dryer, all the while showering to freshen up--

it's ridiculous, isn't it?

there's a cordyceps outbreak happening right now, everyone's worried about the coming winter, food supply, clean water, the infected-- and all you can think of right now is fitting into a dress that has zero monetary value.

it's a dress.

it's eggshell white in color, with lace decorating it, with a corset-like bust that shapes your breasts in a heavenly way. it's short and also has a slit going up one of your thighs.

it's a fucking dress that makes you feel absolutely beautiful.. yet what does it mean in this world? does it even have any meaning?

you're looking at yourself in the mirror right now, wearing the dress after contemplating for about 20 minutes, and now you're doubting everything again despite also loving how you look at the same time.

what was the point in taking this dress? it's useless. it's not worth anything. it's a waste of space.

it's a distraction. from all that's happening in the world. it's a reminder how good things used to be, and how it can never be as good again.

you feel ridiculous.

because how dare you feel beautiful at a time like this?

how dare you be happy in a world bound to die?

you sigh and reach for the zipper to take the dress off. just as you were about to, there's a rustle behind you and you see joel looking at you with adoration.

and it makes you feel all the more guilty.

"you look…"

"don't say it." you manage to say. your hands grip the sides of the dress while you try your best not to cry.

joel frowns and gets closer to you despite your protests. "you look beautiful." he whispers, gently placing his arm around your waist.

you close your eyes and cover your face with your hands. the tears are streaming down your face, and joel can only hush you with his kisses.

"you wanna tell me what's going on?" he asks softly, "why's my princess crying when she looks this pretty?"

you uncover your face and a little laugh escapes you. "isn't it funny? isn't it ridiculous?"

joel frowns a little.

"i was so worried i wouldn't be able to fit into this dress, or that this dress wouldn't look good on me. and now that it fits, i have nowhere to wear it to." you sniffle. "who worries about stuff like that when the world is fucking ending?"

you let out another laugh. "it's so fucking shallow but i'm crying anyway -- isn't it funny that i'm more worried about a fucking dress instead of whether i'd be dead or alive tomorrow??"

you're spiraling. joel is seeing it happen right in front of him and it's breaking his heart. it's not the first time it's happened, but usually, it's never this bad.

he understands how you feel. sometimes it feels like no one's allowed to enjoy the good things anymore simply because you might die at any moment. part of your brain is just telling you to survive, survive, survive, while the other part is telling you to just be fucking happy while you have the chance.

joel places you on the bed. sometimes, the world feels too big and too out of your control, and joel's arms hold you close and tight, helping you make the world a little smaller - because right now it's just you and joel.

-----

when you've calmed down, joel's still holding you close. you're still in the dress, and though you're no longer hysterical about wearing or owning it, it still makes you feel nauseous. so you peel yourself away from joel to take it off, the disgust obvious on your face.

joel stops you, as if knowing how you feel. he doesn't say anything, he doesn't really need to, he just takes your chin and presses his lips onto yours. you don't protest, joel knows how to make you feel better almost every single time, and right now his lips feels heavenly.

he feels the fabric of the dress and his hand stops at your breast, squeezing gently. you let out a breath against his lips and joel only captures your mouth once more, not letting you slip away.

the hem of your dress is now up to your waist, exposing your bare torso to joel, who's teasing your mound with his palm. the warmth of his hand, the roughness of his skin against your clit -- you rock your hips gently against his palm, and he has to push your hips down to stop you from doing too much.

patience.

his voice rings in your head.

joel chuckles when he sees his hand is now covered in your wetness, and you bite your lip, guiding his hand- fingers, this time, to your entrance.

"please."

joel hums, prodding his fingers ever so slightly into your cunt, but decides to step away and settles his head between your legs instead.

he starts slow, giving kitten licks to your entrance and a few kisses on your clit, but when he sees your flushed face and your eyes literally begging him for something more, he decides to play nicer.

joel's fingers pushes deep into you while his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl up to reach the spongy spot. joel never misses. he knows your body too well.

"joel..." you warn. your breaths are getting faster, your eyes hazy, you're about to cum and joel's watching you. he has his eyes on you when the knot in your lower abdomen finally snaps and you feel yourself releasing your juices onto his face.

"that's it," he coos, "that's my girl."

-----

joel's never been that good with words. he doesn't exactly know how to comfort you just by saying everything will be okay because he doesn't know if it will be.

so instead, what he does is; he takes the dress you'd intended to turn into a few napkins, washes it, lets it dry, hangs it nicely on your dresser door with a note: "should wear this more often."

yes, the world might end today, tomorrow, or the next day. and it might be silly to dress up or play house with joel knowing that everyone's doomed, but if believing that everything will work out fine means that you get to spend one more day with joel, then that's enough for you.

#romance #angst #fluff #pedro pascal #joel miller #female reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #tlou joel #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

[yellowjavkets]

for how much I dislike Bo Burnham I get his song "shit" stuck in my head an absurd fucking amount of times per week

#LOOK IN THE MIRROR SAY WHATS UP YOU USELESS FUCK. ARE YOU FEELING WHAT IM FEELING I HAVENT HAD A SHOWER IN THE LAST NINE DAYS #MONSTER GROWL

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.

Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!

A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!

Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.

I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.

So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.

Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.

The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.

Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.

I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.

There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”

Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.

Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.

Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.

During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.

Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.

Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.

As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.

Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.

Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭

Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.

Read this post.

This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes

“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.

And I was successful!

This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.

Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.

Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.

Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.

Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!

I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”

Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.

Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.

And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.

The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.

I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.

Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.

I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭

I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.

But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??

Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #my asks

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger

Prompt: Kid and you have a huge fight, and in anger, Kid tells you to leave

~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Killer watched the two of you fight as he often did. He learned early on which fights to step into to become the peacemaker and which ones to stay out of. You were yelling at Kid for going out of his way to fight a Marine ship and while everyone was alive, quite a few people were injured and the boat needed some major repairs. Even you had been shot in the shoulder during the battle amongst other injuries.

        “We won, didn’t we?! Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get off my goddamn back then” Kid was laying it on thick he was towering over you and it had been long since the rest of the crew made themselves scarce from your fight. Killer was in the corner leaning against the wall but you knew better than to try and get him to pick sides.

        “That’s not the point Kid. It was senseless, We got hurt for no reason, Not to mention the damage to Victoria Punk!” You were after all in charge of the crew's finances. A job Kid had given to you when he was too drunk to pay something off and it turned into plundering the entire village. We were never truly low on berries, Kid made sure of that, but you still would like to keep it above a certain threshold. “Nobody died this time but what about next time!?” It was another great concern of yours, Kid had already lost an arm and it took him god knows how long to wake up from that. It’s a sight you’d rather not relive.

        The two of you had been fighting for quite some time on the matter and neither side seemed to be letting up in this argument as both of you shot daggers at each other. “If I decide we attack that’s final. I’m you’re captain it shouldn’t matter what you think.” Kid slammed his fist into the wall right next to you. You tried not to flinch at the sudden and aggressive movement but couldn’t help but let out a little gasp, deciding to stare straight into his chest rather than make eye contact after such a weak display. “You can’t even fight, what do you even do around here to dare think you should even get a say in what I decide?!” Killer perks his head up at the sudden change the argument was taking. “A useless bitch like you should just stay out of the way” Your breath hitches at his word and you hear Killer yell Kid's name.

        You straighten your back, glancing up at your captain, blinking tears to stay away. His glare back at you is menacing and pissed, Your voice turns lower but unwavering, “If that’s how you feel..”

        “Feelings have nothing to do with this, facts are I let an absolute useless person onto this ship” His words dripping with venom that stung more than your shoulder, “If you can’t even listen to your captain's order maybe you should just leave.” It took a second for his words to sink in, waiting for him to retract his statement. But soon enough you whisper a fine under your breath before turning away and leaving the room. You could hear Killer starting his own fight with Kid at this point but it didn’t matter.

        You make your way to the captain's room, it’s where the three of you stayed after all, and start packing anything of yours that could fit into a single bag. You wince a bit as your shoulder starts to bleed from a sudden movement but still refuse to let tears escape. You look in the mirror once more, noticing just how tattered and covered in blood your clothes were, deciding to change into clean clothes one last time before continuing packing. Once the bag is full you head back to the deck and climb down a rope into the debris-ridden water below. You remember seeing a rowboat across the way from the now half sunk marine ship and you intended to use it.

~~~

        “What the fuck Kid” Killer gripped Kid's shoulder and turned him around as he could see y/n escape into the hallway, “What was that all about?” Killer couldn’t believe the words he had just heard from his captain and lover's mouth.

        “She fucken deserved it. What makes her think she can boss me around?” Kid was obviously still pissed beyond belief, huffing with anger in every breathe. He brushes past Killer, “If you need me I’ll be in my workshop.” Killer let out an exasperated sigh before trying to go find y/n on the ship.

~~~

By the time anyone had noticed you were gone, you had already found a row boat and started drifting away in the opposite direction of the ship.

Killer had told the rest of the crew to tell him when they find you but he had only assumed you needed some space after such a heated debate. He didn’t even bother to check the Captain’s Quarters, he doubted you wanted to be in such a place right now, if anything you’d be in a corner hitting the wall or a tight space to breathe and calm down. But as time went on, he grew increasingly more concerned at not hearing or seeing you.

Kid emerged from his workshop a couple of hours after the argument, cooled down a bit, and tired. The sun was long gone as he made his way to his room. In the past, your arguments could get out of hand but Kid could still find you angrily sleeping in his bed next to, or on top of Killer, begrudgingly making room for him. This time on the other, neither you nor killer were in bed, or even in the room for that matter.

He looked around to see your discarded clothes tossed on the ground and he noticed a lot more blood than he’d care to admit, had she been covered in this much when we were fighting? Regardless Kid turned on his heel to search for his two closest crew members.

Soon enough he ran into Hip who was carrying medical supplies, “Oh, Hey Captain. Have you seen y/n? She still hasn’t come to get patched up yet despite promising me she’d come later.” Kid stares at her for a second before she chuckles a bit, “Or did you take care of the wound yourself? How kind. Just remind her to change her bandages.” Kid stood there processing Hips words and she walked away chuckling. She was hurt? Why the fuck did she start a fight before getting treated? Kid started pacing the ship before he ran into an equally worried Killer.

“Kid have you seen y/n?” The taller blonde seemed to be anxious.

“Does it look like I’ve fucken seen her?” Kid snapped at his first mate, “Where the fuck could she have gone?”

~~~

You lay in the boat looking at the sky. The pain in your shoulder growing. You grit your teeth into some clothe as your fingers try to dig the bullet out. After another failed attempt you let out a painful, sorrow filled scream. You had realized a little to late into your little journey that when you were shot, the bullet never made it all the way through.

Truly, it was a great distraction from the events post battle. As you finally breathe in again you let your arm trying to dig the bullet out fall onto the floor of the boat. The adrenaline must have worn off at this point. The pain truly setting in as your mind wanders to what Kid said to you.

Finally, after hours of pretending to be strong. You let it out, you place your now bloodied hand on top of your eyes as the tears overflow.

#One Piece #Kid #Killer #Kid x reader x killer #angst #part 1