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#oh my god this is fucking amazing and so true
honeybeefae · 1 day
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3.5K OF YOU OMG
I JUST CHECKED MY FOLLOWERS AND OH MY GOD?!?! THERE ARE FUCKING 3.5K OF YOU?!?! I HAVE SO MANY WORDS AND SO MANY FEELINGS SO JUST ENJOY THIS WORD VOMIT
First of all, keeping this professional, THANK YOU. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Whether you just followed or have been following since my first post, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I say this a lot but only because it is true but you guys mean the world to me.
I write for you. I laugh with you. I cry with you. I love talking to you all and seeing your ideas and your thoughts; it is so nice to have so many people who not only enjoy my writing but like it enough to follow me! You, and yes I mean you, are amazing. You are kind and beautiful and smart and lovely and just you make my day. My week. Everything. None of this could be possible with out.
Second of all, I have to thank this community. There are so many creators out there that I am lucky to call my friends. They are amazing people and keep my afloat. And even the ones I've yet to talk to (feel free to reach out if you ever feel like it! I'd love to meet more of you!) create the most beautiful pieces of art that inspire me and everyone else. This community is amazing and while sometimes we can get caught up in disagreements, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Also, please check these artists out and support them! @clairebear08 @readychilledwine @danikamariewrites @cupidojenphrodite @redbleedingrose @sarawritestories @crazysocklovingfangirl @whisperingmidnights @thelov3lybookworm @fieldofdaisiies @the-lonelybarricade
AND SO MANY MORE I AM SORRY IF I DIDNT TAG YOU PLS YELL AT ME AND I WILL ADD YOU I LOVE YOU <3
FINALLY
I WANT TO CELEBRATE YOU. YOU ARE THE REASON I AM HERE, THE REASON I HAVE REACHED THIS MILESTONE. STANDBY FOR CELEBRATIONS.
THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING BUT YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS SO JUST ACCEPT THIS LOVE BOMB OKAY I LOVE YOU
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seraphicalsuccubus · 2 days
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ya girl bleached and dyed her hair and had new extensions installed today so she looks like a 12/10 bad bitch again for her birthday on Monday despite not doing anything for it and spending it entirely alone just rotting in her room like every other day lmao
but oh well I don’t care because I look good as FUCK now. like. I’ll literally just do my makeup and my hair and like maybe some self care shit and straight up sit here and admire myself all day for my birthday like the true Taurus sun (and Venus) that I am bro. like. I don’t give a fuck because DAMN SON I look so good and FEEL so good since I’ve changed something about my appearance up a bit again. like. life isn’t so bleak rn tbh but I know that’s only because I feel great and excited and just so much lighter and free than I did before with my hair and extensions done again lmao. just beyond thrilled to be rid of the pink, it overstayed it’s welcome this time around and I’m glad it’s GONE (for now, I’ll bring it back again eventually) lmao
but like. y’all can’t tell me NOTHIN rn man. I feel so ALIVE and THRIVING and HAPPY and I look like a fkn GODDESS omfg. like. I’m literally gonna go fight god just because I can simply due to the fact that I look fuckin amazing and he wouldn’t stand a chance against a bitch like this tbh LMAO
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lauronk · 3 days
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random recs on a friday
here i am with yet another futile attempt at catching up on the gazillion amazing fics in this fandom. taking a writing break for a couple days to reset my brain, so this is a long one. recs under the cut 💗
(this isn't even everything i still have so much reading to do this is a herculean task and you can expect more recs in a couple days probably)
move so quickly (it can't catch me) by @howtotrainyourdoofus - BALLET ELLIE ugh so phenomenal
next of kin by @probssomethingorother - oh my GOD? joel & sarah & sarah's mom prequel that had me IN TEARS
gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit by @flowerpetvls - i am just setting out to hurt myself with these apparently?! oh my god?!
just babes being dudes by @ciaconnaa - ellie & jesse bromance, i die for you
magnetic susceptibility by @penandinkprincess - bye i loved this whole thing so much we all know how i feel about outsider POVs of joel & ellie
he shall provide by @bumblepony - joel taking care of ellie after silver lake, my one true love
midnight in texas by @boopernatural - astronaut ellie and i don't think i'll ever recover jesus FUCK
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boxwinebaddie · 4 months
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hey, uncle nina! i fixed this post in raven’s pinterest board for you. 💖
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siren--squid · 6 months
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PLAYED ALL OF SOULSCAPE LAST NIGHT...... RAMBLING SPOILERS IN THE TAGS...... :D
#spoilers in tags#BRO THE FUCKING MEMORY SCENES TOOK ME OUT#Chase deserves SO MUCH BETTER than that woman. Im so glad they've separated. i feel so bad for the kids holy crap#i hope they get a happy ending with their father.#Jackie my sweet boy. the dysphoria battle made me cry. those bullies are shit and beating them was SO GOOD. hero boy deserves confidence#MARVIN THAT SASSY CATBOY OH MY GOD...... his memory was such a fun segment to play but ABSOLUTELY painful otherwise#I LOVE HIS FRIEND THO OMG??#hate those three money obsessed guys tho. would fight them again#honestly i have no words for Henriks memory. that was absolutely heartbreaking. i cried the entire time#the baby crying. the visual of his grief. how shattered and vulnerable he behaves the entire time.#the distorted bloody hospital was such a good representation of that mental state. the graves were so sad#joline showing up was the most heartbreaking and somber thing ever. doc needs a big hug#that was distressingly amazing.#Also cried over Bings memories. that was beautifully done and terribly sad#i understand deleting that memory. and the dialogue at the cabin door absolutely broke me#i knew that forest grave was important. the connections were so obvious.#ROBBIE MEMORY WAS ADORABLE THO. love that empty room scene#true anti also made me cry a little. poor kid just wanted a life. he deserves that so much#the ending did feel a little rushed though. like.. not satisfying in a way? there wasn't enough done it feels like.#the endings always feel rushed tho i guess?? just more with this one. im excited to see if anything ever has a satisfying conclusion#LOVED playing as cat Marvin. vent maze was good#i liked getting a whole map of the place as well?? but sometimes it feels like easter eggs over power plot#they're so fun and so good but also bro im here for story and the amount of things is overwhelming lmao /j#amazing plot and game overall#absolutely stunning
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astrxealis · 1 year
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sometimes (often) i think about the characters i kin or relate to and then the realization comes in again and again that i need therapy (/lh?)
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#unfortunately i doubt i will ever get therapy bcs i have this. thing. idk. but i believe in myself to just rely on myself?#and yeah i uhh can go on more about that BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF THIS sorry i suck at explaining things. anyways#humans. interesting. i am fascinated by humans and myself and i'm tired of typing now GOODBYE anyways xiv music is so fucking good#and also idk how to interact w others sorry ..... i am scared of getting close to people bcs everyone i've grown close to has ended up#leaving me or i mess up! but tbh it's better now i think and also not as bad as i think but sorry i still have bad issues with. that#me saying i don't want to type anymore and then proceed to rapidly type out so many words oopsies#pls just do not PERCEIVE ME !! unless you want to ig but idk why you'd want to do that uhm#yk i like tumblr most out of all social medias bcs it feels like i can... sort of just be my weird self here! and it's not fully nice#and i still have anxiety problems and overthinking problems and whatnot which is evident by my 100+ notifs i havent checked since#christmas but that's not the point (?) idk whats the point honestly uhhhh nvm (??)#OH I LOVE FF SO MUCH tbh it's w/o a doubt still my favorite series ever but drake/nier is also up there for sure#which i think is amazing bcs i have yet to finish a game. and ive only like played idk 5 hours of replicant and automata#and then ive already spoiled myself on important aspects of all games but that helps ngl uh. i could explain but im tired of typing#ANYWAYS GOD actually noehgjbsejhbghjes i really suck w interacting w others i really wish i were better at all that#im not super introverted or shy im just kinda awkward and anxious but im a fun person and all and idk#and tbh its interesting thinking abt my personality... some parts of me havnt changed at all from a bit (/pos) like my lively. aspect of my#personality !! i was a bundle of energy and a little annoying (perhaps unintentionally but now i think its a bit more on purpose lol)#but the only person who really sees my true self is me. and the closest to that is lune. but even i dont know who i really am#and yeah... wnvr im like woa ill make more friends !! and then when i have the opportunities i suddenly dont care anymore IT SUCKS#anyways i think i have Opportunities now again so lets see haha ?? at least uhh in school. its like 2nd sem and i dont rlly have friends#as usual haha that sounds so sad help BUT its not like im disliked im just rlly quiet and shy at school..... throwback to 7th grade tho#that was rlly the worst but also now is just as bad in a diff sense but back then i cldnt talk w my crush at ALL i didnt speak at all im so#sorry about that HELPPP I RLLY JUST CLDNT SPEAK anyways moving on in my class rn i do have a group of sorts. like#we're grpmates wnvr theres grpworks and we can pick which is nice! ive been classmates w em all b4 and theyre the cool kids#but in the more fandom sense and one used to be a close friend of my twin and of mine too by extent and then the other was someone#who knew me when i was more extroverted so yeah uhhh anyways#OKAY ALMOST MAX TAGS im DONE rambling. bye. hopefully. bye. oh god
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Women loving romance, something we have been taking an interest to since forever, is apparently problematic and degrading thing according to these freaks.
#text#'IT's AlWAys the FOcaL pOInt oF A WoMAN's sTOrY' so???#women have always loved romance. writerd know that's how you get a female audience#which is precisely why romance and attractive leads have always been included in media#this is not that hard to figure it out#like this is a complaint thrown at disney princesses like damn bitch can women do anything without you feminist cunts always trying to#criticize them for their natural biological inclinations???? y'all want women to be like men so bad. y'all are the true misogynists#y'all have been more misogynistic than any male chauvinist throughout history. yeah i fucking said it and i stand by my opinion#'thEy nEEd mEn tO COMpleTe thEm' well at least they werw able to get a good man so i don't see the problem with that#we all need somebody to complete us or complement us in some way but it's not evil and misogynistic when women do it i guess#like y'all hate men that much???? y'all are too fixated in the damn past like life in general wasn't harder anyways#and our priorities were different because LIFE WAS DIFFERENT!!!!! oh my fucking god#yes i want a man to live with for the rest of my life and yes i will prioritize my family over everything else so what????#those types of women are far stronger than you victmhood bitches. y'all are always fucking victims with no agency#it's a shame that y'all hate life men women and god this much#because y'all have never been genuinely happy once in your lives so in turn you will blame everything on a non-existing patriarchy and miso#y'all made it out to be something that it never actually was at least on a widespread level#y'all are goofy. i wanna have sympathy for y'all because i know the lot of you have suffered in the past but man… is it difficult to#sympathize with y'all in most cases. i'm really trying my best tho#but yeah it's amazing to me how y'all will demonize femininity womanhood motherhood and nearly everything that women have ever liked#and will turn around and blame it on the patriarchy. like omfg can women have some agency for once??? damn#i'm tired of these heffas and their perverted male followers fr
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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unexpected consequences
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, condoms breaking, pregnancy/breeding talk, unprotected p in v sex, established relationship, mention of marriage
“oh fuck, yeah.” you moan out, fingers gripping rafes shoulders. “right-right there.”
your moans are extra loud today, having been apart from rafe for nearly a week after he had business out of the country. rafe is just as pent up as you, thrusting harshly into your cunt to the chorus of his grunts.
“close.” rafe warns, but you could tell anyways by the swelling of his cock that he wouldn’t last long.
“oh my god, yes.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as your release pushes through your body, cumming with a final shout of your boyfriends name.
rafe drops his head into your neck as he cums inside of you, pushing as deeply as he can as your cunt pulses around him. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press soft kisses to his head while rafe pants through his orgasm, until you shift slightly and feel it inside of you.
“rafe, pull out.” you shove at his shoulder, causing him to look up in concern, but he slips his softening cock out.
“what is it baby?” rafe asks. you look down at the condom he always wears, where theres always a bit of white cum gathered at the tip, but this time it looks practically empty, like he just rolled it on.
“rafe.” you hit his shoulder, causing him to flinch and look down.
“wha-” rafe suddenly realizes the issue, rolling himself off the bed as he walks into the bathroom, no doubt to inspect the condom and tell you what you already know is true.
“it broke.” rafe says when he comes out a moment later.
“i know.” you admit, shifting your hips from side to side again. “i can tell.”
“im so sorry baby.” rafe says with a sigh, laying on the bed next to you but not pulling you into his arms, not sure if you want to be touched.
“its okay.” you hum softly, mind still reeling. “you didn’t know.”
“what are we gonna do?” rafe asks, knowing you’re not on birth control due to affecting other medication you’re on.
“well, i can take a plan b in the morning…” you say quietly. 
“or.” rafe encourages you to continue, able to tell that you aren’t finished.
“or we could wait and see. i mean i probably won’t get pregnant just from one time, right?” you shrug.
“what about if it does take? and you’re pregnant?” rafe asks, looking at your tummy.
as if you’re thinking the same thing, you lay your hand over your stomach, knowing that even if you are pregnant there is nothing in there yet, but the thought alone has you rubbing gently over your skin. “i don’t know.” you admit.
“i want to keep it.” rafe blurts out. “if-if you are pregnant.” rafe can’t take not touching you any longer, pulling you close to him and tangling your limbs together.
“are you sure?” you raise your eyebrows. you think rafe would be an amazing father, knowing how protective he is of you, and how he strives every day to take even better care of you. “we are so young.”
“i love you. i want to be with you, i want a family with you. why not start now?” rafe questions. he won’t admit it to you yet, but he’s been thinking about taking the next step, having even gone ring shopping to see his options. “besides-” rafe smiles, “why are you trying to talk me out of it? you’ve always wanted kids.”
you grin back at him. “i know.” you let a giggle free, feeling giddy about the possibility. you’ve always wanted to become a mom, especially because you have so many younger siblings. “so, are we doing this?”
“yes.” rafe says definitively, pulling you in for a kiss, a comforting one that you truly need.
“oh my god, im so excited.” you break the kiss to mumble against his lips.
rafe nods in agreement, lowering a hand between your bodies to touch your stomach. “probably too early to start talking to your tummy, huh?” 
“definitely. i mean, we don’t even know if i’m pregnant, it may take a couple tries…” you trail off, hoping rafe gets your intention.
“well, i will just have to keep cumming inside you.” rafe shrugs. “in fact, we shouldn’t take any chances and i should fill you up again right now.”
rafes hand lowers from your stomach to your thigh as he grabs your flesh and pulls your leg over his hip, spreading your thighs for him as your cunt rubs up against his quickly hardening cock.
“rafe!” you shout with a laugh, but don’t stop him as he begins to grind his cock into your core.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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i cannot get over pervy vox OMG
could you maybe write a fic/drabble where vox goes into readers room after they’ve masturbated and sucks on their vibrator just to get a taste of them?
maaaaybe he gets caught…?
sorry if this is too filthy lmaooo but i love love love your work!! also, if you do emoji anons I’d love to be 💕anon :)
Pervy!Vox x Reader Oneshot —
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a/n — I love how in the bigfatbimbo universe, there are some things we just accept. Like boycunt Luci, girldick Lute, and now pervy Vox. Makes sense.
summary — In a desperate act, Vox goes into the readers room after they’ve masturbated and sucks on their vibrator. His punishment? Getting that vibrator used on him.
warnings — Smut, Vox being a fucking creep, small use of y/n, use of ‘mommy,’ Sub!Vox, Dom!reader
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He couldn’t help himself, he saw you playing with yourself on his cameras and you just looked so pretty. It’s true, he just couldn’t resist ‘coincidentally’ knocking on your door after.
Just like how he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking off to ‘use the bathroom’ and take a short detour to your room. It wasn’t hard to find the vibrator, after all, you didn’t expect company and you didn’t expect anyone to be looking, either.
Vox didn’t really know what the plan was, so for a moment he just stared at it. However, despite the voices in his head telling him to hurry up, he very slowly leaned down to pick up the vibrator. God, it’s still slick with your beautiful fluids. And then all of a sudden he’s picturing you using this again, hearing your amazing noises, and before he realizes it, the vibrator is pressed to his lips.
He didn’t hesitate, after that, to wrap his tongue around it and suck longingly. If he let out small whimpers, they went unnoticed to him. Vox was far more concerned with the taste of you on his tongue and the growing pressure in his crotch.
“What are you doing?” Your voice is sharp and accusatory, cutting through the otherwise quiet room like a dagger.
He fumbles, dropping the vibrator in his surprise. Realizing what he has done, he glances down in awe of his uncharacteristic clumsiness. He doesn’t turn to face you.
“Uh, my dear, I was just going to the bathroom when…” His eyes dart around the room as he tries to think of his feet, “When I saw something on your floor, you should really be more careful with your things.”
Happy with his answer, he finally turns halfway to face you, careful to keep the bulge in his pants the other direction.
“Yeah, you’re right. I should be careful with my things,” your voice was not only skeptical, but you spoke with a tone that said, ‘oh, now you’re totally caught.’
You started walking towards him. Shit, he turns away from you further, screen brightening noticeably.
“Uhm, wait,” A laugh cuts through his voice, originally meant to be reassuring but falling flat and just coming off awkward, “My dear, we should go back to the living room—“
“Wow, Vox,” you lean down to pick up the vibrator, examining it, “You cleaned it off for me, too right? How sweet.”
You begin to sulk towards him, he sinks back.
“Only, wait a second—“ you make a show of putting your finger to your chin and thinking, “—you never mentioned going to bathroom after your detour.”
He frowns, blush on his screen deepening. His temper begins the rise, “Uhm, why am I being interrogated right now?”
You don’t listen too him, “That’s means the only thing you could have done was—“ letting out a fake gasp, you give him an almost sympathetic look before walking towards him further, “Oh Voxxy. Tell me you weren’t that desperate.”
“What? No I— Oh, fuck you,” His body tensed when he feels your hand on his shoulder.
“Good, because only a pathetic freak would do something like that,” his screen flushes when your eyes shift down his body. “Oh, but it looks like you got all worked up, huh?”
He doesn’t bother saying anything, just looking away in distain, “Look if you’re going to be all— hah!”
Vox yelps when he feelings your fingers graze his bulge.
“You’re disgusting,” you breathe into his neck, “Get on the bed.”
All thoughts in his mind about brainwashing you to forget this ever happened disappear, “What?”
“Get on the fucking bed, Vox,” You hiss with authority. Whatever fake sympathy you just displayed was gone, being replaced only by sharp commands.
You tug him backwards slightly and he falls onto the mattress.
“Hey— Hey, wait!” He complains, a whine creeping into his voice when the thought of your hand grazing his harden dick crossing his mind once more.
Vox was needy, the actions taken with your vibrator started it, and your condescending attitude only increased it. He felt undeniably embarrassed. How could he be caught? How humiliating… but god, if that didn’t make him all the needier.
You straddle him, softly grinding yourself against him, he bites his lip and softly whimpers. You push him down completely.
“Let’s see,” you undo his bowtie and start to pick up the bottom of his vest.
“So many punishments I could choose,” you begin to unbutton his shirt at an agonizingly slow pace.
“Punishment? You were the one who just left it out and—“ He’s cut off when you roll your hips making him whine desperately, “Nngh, fuck.”
“Maybe i’ll make you watch as I touch myself,” you toy at a button, two buttons, “Hm, but I bet you already did that today, huh, freak?”
He tries to protest but slam onto his crotch, forcing a yelp out of him.
“I could tie you up, but of course that’s not enough,” only one button left, “Say, I think maybe you should have a turn with that vibrator.”
“Y/n, let’s think about this,” his voice is whiny, but desperately clawing at any attempt to lighten the sentence you’re giving him.
“No, Vox. I think I deserve a turn to sit back and watch you get off, right?” You get off of him momentarily, a noise of complaint leaving his mouth.
You begin to dig through your drawers, looking for ropes, “God, Vox. I bet you’re look so good with one of mommy’s vibrators stuck up your pretty ass.
”Oh god. Oh god, fuck,” He moans at the thought, crawling up and resting against the headrest of the bed, watching you slink forwards him.
“Aw, shit. Of course,” you begin, wrapping the ropes around his wrists and securing them together, “Of course that would mean no attention at all to your dick. You know, because i’m just watching after all.”
“Dear god—“ He frowns deeply, bringing his tied wrists down to his screen to look at them. “Is— Is this really necessary? I mean a punishment—hah. You don’t think…” He trails off into awkward dismissive laughter, trying to ignore the pounding in his cock.
You don’t answer this time, instead focusing on getting the vibrator into Vox. You flip him over, doing what you need too in order to prepare for the toy, all while eliciting small moans and complaints from Vox.
Finally, you slide one of the vibrators from your drawer into him, causing him to suck in breath.
You position yourself behind him, resting your head on the crook of his neck and positioning his tied hands begging you neck as you turn the vibrator on.
Immediately, he lets out a terrible moan, “Fuck, fucking god,” leans further into you.
For the next few aggravating minutes, you don’t say anything to Vox. Almost as if you weren’t there at all. It made him wonder about his punishment.
Had you known for sure he was watching? Surely that was the only way he would get this kind of punishment, bedroom mess aside. The silent treatment, You just watching him.
It had to be that. He wasn’t sure how you’d known for certain, but anytime he began to wonder you seemed to turn up the vibrator.
It was impossibly hot, the humiliation of it all. But incredibly irritating, the pounding in his under-stimulated dick, and the vow of silence you’ve apparently taken to make this a punishment.
“Oh fuck, y/n, speak for gods—szz—sake,” He whined, leaning his screen back into you and gazing up longingly.
He probably looked pathetic and needy, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fuck, maybe if would even get you to say something.
“Oh my god,” He tugged at the binds on his wrists, which rested behind your neck, “Say something, anything! I wanna hear you.”
He kicked his feet as he struggles, pressure building in his dick, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, and the pleasure coming from the vibrator in his ass. It was all so much but not enough at the same time.
“Jesus christ, please—ssz,” He pleaded up at you, voice catching with the sobs that built up in his chest, “I need to hear you, I need you to t—ttch—talk to me. Tell me how bad I am, I don’t care, just anything!”
He squirmed and thrashed, only for you to suddenly slam his hips down, holding him in place. Still, you didn’t say anything, gazing at him, somewhat bored looking,
Bored looking. That messed with him. How could he be the center of your attention and yet keep you completely not captivated at the same time. It wasn’t fair.
It was even more unfair when your bored expression turned momentarily into a disapproving sneer. Vox didn’t understand for a second, before realizing tears were streaming down his screen.
“Fuck, mommy—fff— please! Mommy—“ He whined and he gave into crying and sobbed half heartedly.
The lights around you flickered and Vox began buffering more regularly.
“Touch me, talk to me—zzz—Please, anything,” he cried up at your unfazed face.
He could feel his climax building, the sensations washing over his untouched dick. He wanted that feeling of brief euphoria.
To entertain himself, he focused on the gasp you had on his hips. The strong, sturdy grasp, keeping him from bucking his dick up into nothing. You were touching him, just barely, but you were. Only a few inches away from the part of him that mattered…
God, is that really where he’s at now? Getting off to a meaningless touch to his hips? That’s pathetic, at least you’d tell him so. You’d tell him that if you were talking to him.
What was the last thing you said to him? He couldn’t remeber, fuzziness clouding his brain. But his attempt to make his orgasm draw closer was working, and it was helped when you turned the vibrator up one more notch.
He cried out desperately, “Oh god. Oh fuck, mommy—“ he gazed up at you with half open, tear ridden eyes, “Can I cum? Please, I’ve taken it— ssz—so good.”
You took this into consideration, remaining cold with your facial expressions. Vox takes a moment to appreciate your closeness, the feel of your breath, the warmth of your hands on his mid section. You were there, even if it didn’t feel like it.
Finally, you nod. Vox moans in celebration, squeezing his eyes shut and—thinking about your scent, your hands, your warmth— let’s go in a moment of pure pleasure.
He falls back against you, breathing heavily. His cock doesn’t wait to harden again, and his desperation for your touch grows stronger.
This time, he doesn’t have to start pleading.
“Good boy,” you coo, hands inching toward his crotch. Depraved and needy, he whines loudly at your words, mumbling soft ‘thank you’s.
Although you keep the vibrator on, your hands play with the bass of his cock, just grazing it. Vox cries loudly.
“Doesn’t feel nice being watched like that, huh?” He shakes his head no, “You want mommy to touch you now? Only if you learned your lesson baby—“
Although desperately needing to speak, he struggles to get the words out, “Zzch— Yes, mommy, please. I’ll be better. I won’t be bad anymore. Just please,” he babbles.
You shush him, taking his cock in your hand and drawing out a needy, watery moan, “Shush, baby, you’re okay now.”
At last, you begin stroking his aching, under stimulated dick.
“Mommy’s here.”
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a/n — I so did not have to write a full fic for this what the fuck… bro I blacked out and the voices took over what the fuck.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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Synopsis: A new lieutenant comes to your base—a hot one. Ghost isn’t happy.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,334
Notes:
I haven’t thought of a title, so I’m replacing it with a picture of Ghost’s expression that perfectly captures the fic’s concept. Let me know if you think of one.
Platonic fluff, duh.
Warning: Lots of swearing ahead of you, British slang as well. Told you, he’s not happy.
UPDATE: there’s a Part 2 now. Things get messy.
Want more?
———————————————————————
The rumour mill went into overdrive as soon as the ‘new guy’ arrived at the military base that morning. A former special ops legend with impressive credentials; what’s not to love?
But it wasn’t just his military skills that had everyone talking; it was also his appearance. Rumours of his Adonis-like looks had spread throughout the base, and everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of him. Even the mess hall was dominated by talk of his stunning looks.
What did you think of him? Well, you prefer to take such things with a grain of salt and not put too much stock in them. After all, beauty is a matter of personal preference, and no single definition applies to everyone. So you wanted to evaluate things for yourself.
Okay, fine. Yes, the rumours were true—the guy is exactly as they described him.
The new lieutenant stands tall and proud in front of the line you’ve all formed, his wavy hair coiffed into a deep side part with a thick fringe swooping over one eye. His chiselled jawline is accentuated by a short, perfectly groomed beard, and he gives everyone a brilliant smile as if he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. His voice is booming and almost comically enthusiastic as if he were trying to engage a class of children. He gives orders by pointing at soldiers with gun fingers and winking, causing some of you to stifle giggles.
“All right, soldiers, pay attention!” he says, clapping his hands like a cheerleader. “Today’s tasks are routine: cleaning, organizing, equipment repair, and inventory taking. And, hey, if we pull this off, I’ll buy everyone a round at the local pub! How does that sound?”
Some of the soldiers exchange skeptical glances, wondering if this guy is for real.
But Ghost? Oh. My. God.
Ghost’s agitation becomes too hard to hide as the new lieutenant speaks. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving frantically as if eager to be anywhere but here. His eyes keep rolling back as though they’re searching for some leftover patience in the depths of his skull. You keep staring at his crossed arms. They’re so stiff that his muscles must ache from the effort. It’s as if he’s trying to keep them in place, so he doesn’t unleash them and back-slap the hot lieutenant’s pretty face. That, or he’ll let out a primal scream any second now.
“Y/N,” he turns to face you, and you stand at attention, “you’re on border patrol with me today-”
“Y/N is staying with me at the office today,” Ghost opposes him. “There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”
“Can’t you get someone else to fill out the paperwork?” the man asks, shooting Ghost a wink and a grin.
“Can’t you get someone else to help you with border patrol?” Ghost winks back at him and turns to face you. “Y/N, on your feet, c’mon,” he says, walking towards the building.
You exchange glances with the new lieutenant and shrug. This is too awkward.
“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, SOLDIER,” Ghost commands, and you dash towards him, brushing past the new lieutenant, who also happens to smell amazing. Of course, he does.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Lt.?” You whisper as you run behind him, “where’s the camaraderie we discussed during yesterday’s briefing?”
Ghost shoots you a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to keep my paperwork safe,” he mutters.
“What’ll happen to the damn paperw-” you proceed to ask, but then evaluate his words; you’re the paperwork.
At the office…
He’s reticent as he sits on his desk—not like he’s a social butterfly any other day, but today, he seems angry. Almost hostile. His eyebrows are tied together, his restless leg syndrome is back, and he takes too many cigarette breaks compared to what you’re used to. He answers your questions with one-word statements when—and if—he acknowledges your presence. Yesses and nos are all you’ve been getting since you entered the office, with the occasional “tsk” he might utter while he looks at his papers.
“Pass me the stapler.” He commands.
“Magic word, Ghost.”
“Pass me the fucking stapler, please.”
You slide the stapler over to his desk. “You’re rude today, Mr Riley.” You comment, turning your focus back to the laptop’s screen.
He doesn’t reply in the form of words. Instead, his feelings manifest themselves by aggressively stapling the papers together.
“Perhaps you’d like me to ask for the stapler by winking at you?” He finally mutters under his breath.
“Like the guy that came in today?” You scoff.
Oh, you have his full, undivided attention now. He turns his chair towards you and leans his weight on his thighs as if you’re about to tell the most exciting story.
“What do you think of him?” He asks.
You flick your wrist dismissively. “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. I prefer to reserve judgment until I get to know someone.” You give him a pointed look, hoping to convey your message without having to spell it out for him.
“He’s a fucking bellend, I’ll tell you that much.” He mumbles in response. Guess the message got lost in transit.
“Come on, man!” You shout and punch your fist on the table, “it’s obvious that he’s got you rattled.”
“He’s not rattling me!” Ghost protests, but his defensive tone betrays him.
“Sure, he’s not,” you reply sarcastically, “that’s why you’ve been chain-smoking and stapling papers like you’re trying to murder them.”
Ghost lets out a deep sigh and rubs his temples.
“Is it his looks?” you ask.
“No, it’s not his looks,” Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m much better looking than him, that’s for sure.”
“Are you...I don’t know, intimidated, maybe?” You shrug, “because you’re worried he might take your place as the top dog around here?”
He looks at you incredulously. “What are you talking about? I’m not worried about that.”
“Sure, you’re not,” you smirk. “That’s why you’ve been acting like a total jerk all day.”
He looks up and sighs. The poor man looks like he desperately needs an ego boost. Beneath Ghost’s tough facade there’s Simon, after all. And Simon is a human being with the same insecurities and worries as everyone else.
“In any case,” you say, trying to comfort him, “nobody takes such douchebags seriously in the army. And I get it; the guy’s trying to make a good impression and all, but, my God, he needs to chill with all the...” you start winking and pointing gun fingers left and right.
He’s so happy he lets out a sharp chuckle. “He’s a fucking nobhead, isn’t he?” He asks, “trying to take charge and acting like he knows everything.”
“Indeed,” you reassure him, “and that cologne, I almost fainted as I passed him; how could you stand beside him for so long?”
“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head.
You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Ghost. You’re the most respected operator here,” you say, giving him a small smile, “just do me a favour and give the guy a chance; he has so much to learn from you.”
He nods. “I wanted to neck slap him so hard,” he mumbles, “knock his pretty white teeth out.”
“Which are fake, by the way.”
“Are they?” He asks, shocked.
“100%.” You reply with conviction as if you are the guy’s dentist.
“I knew it.” He yells, slaps his hand on his thigh, and turns his chair back to his desk.
You look at him from the corner of your eye. He seems much more relaxed now. Hopefully, he takes your advice to heart and proceeds with the same resilience and leadership he does on the battlefield. Or, maybe, you temporarily diffused a potential conflict, and the captain will have to get involved pretty soon. Who knows. At least he feels confident in himself now, and the guy’s teeth will live to see another day.
———————————————————————
Part 2 ->
5K notes · View notes
iznsfw · 2 months
Text
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!
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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.”
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taintedcigs · 1 month
Text
— hardest of hearts
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“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.
pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)
warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.
author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!
pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.
Jealousy.
That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.
The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.
Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.
You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.
And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.
Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.
You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.
You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.
He's making you so pathetic.
The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.
He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.
"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.
"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.
"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.
"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.
You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.
Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.
You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.
Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.
And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.
"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.
"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.
"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.
He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."
"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.
You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"
He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"
You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"
"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.
Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"
"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.
And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.
You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"
His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.
He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.
"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.
His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.
You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.
He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.
He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.
His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.
You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.
Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.
"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.
"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.
You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."
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aluciahaz · 1 month
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may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.
Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!
once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3
oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)
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greed never stops
—vox x f!reader
—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage
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vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.
he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.
but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.
but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.
and you were the one he needed it from.
your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.
“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”
those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.
“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.
“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?
“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”
“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.
he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.
vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.
he just didn’t deserve it.
he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.
“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.
his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.
his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.
which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.
“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.
“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.
“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.
“such a good boy.”
those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.
he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.
sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.
it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.
it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.
“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.
vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.
but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.
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(i totally didnt forget to tag)
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
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mimicmimikyuwrites · 2 months
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A New Beginning - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader
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Summary: The birth of your daughter with Lucifer brings some of his fears to the surface as he meets her for the first time, but you're there to help him.
Contents/Possible Warnings: Fluff, some angst, but mostly fluff
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The moment she came into the world you knew you'd always love her. Your sweet baby girl looked a lot like her father, and while she had gotten your eyes, everything else seemed to have come from Lucifer. She had the most stunning golden hair you had ever seen, and the lighter streaks of blonde running through it only added to her beauty. Her chubby little cheeks were the most adorable shade of a bright, rosy red, and when she smiled you felt a happiness stronger than you had ever experienced before.
She was perfect.
"God, she looks so much like Charlie when she was born." Gently leaning over, Lucifer held out a finger, and your daughter grabbed onto it, curious eyes looking up at him. "Hi, my baby," he cooed, gently taking her from you, and holding her in his arms. "You're so precious."
You melted at the sight, a warmth filling you as you watched the scene in front of you. He was being careful with her, almost as if he was afraid she'd break at any moment, and the soft way he spoke to her made you fall in love with him all over again. You had always thought you made the right choice all those months ago when you asked him to have a baby with you, and your belief only grew as you looked at them.
"Darling?" Lucifer asked you. "Are you crying?"
You sniffled, nodding in response. It was beautiful. The two loves of your life in front of you had brought you to tears of joy. You loved them so, so much. "I'm just so happy, Lucifer. You're such a great dad."
Your husband looked away, avoiding your gaze, smiling sadly. "I'm not—I could've–" He sighed, unable to find the words. He handed her back to you, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion as he took a few steps back and began to nervously fidget with his cane.
"I could've done better with Charlie." He looked at your baby, the same sad, pained smile on his face. "I'm probably going to fuck up with this one, too." He let out a small, humorless, bitter laugh. You frowned.
"Lucifer, honey." You motioned for him to come closer, and he did, letting you hold his face in one of your hands. "Not all of it's your fault, okay?" You reassured him. He had told you about Lilith, and how she would distance him from Charlie, and how that ultimately helped lead up to his current, rocky father-daughter relationship with her.
He fought back tears. "I–I know you're not Lilith, but–fuck—I'm scared that the same thing's gonna happen, or that I'll screw up some other way. I want to be a good father. I need to be a good father. For her."
"And you will be." You promised. "I can already tell how much you love her, and I know you'll do an amazing job. Think of this as a new beginning for you. A chance to do even better."
He frowned, still filled with self-doubt, but nodded in agreement. This would be a new start for him, and he wouldn't waste his chance. His frown turned into a grin as your daughter reached out her tiny hands towards him, wanting to be held by her father again, and he gladly took her from you.
"Oh!" He said suddenly, letting out a small laugh as he realized something. "We never gave her a name!" He was right. Amid all the emotions, both good and bad, you had both managed to forget about her name.
"What should we—"
"Stella." You decided, cutting him off. She was your little star, your bright light in the darkness, and the cosmic-themed name fit her excellently. A wonderful name for the wonderful little girl you had brought into the world.
"Stella." He said, testing the name out. "I like it." He smiled down at her. "I'll be the best dad you could ever ask for, Stella. I promise."
You knew he wouldn't let her down. She was his new beginning, and he'd stay true to his word.
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