#she had SUCH a perfect voice. like. i can still hear it from my dream and it was so calm and soft and grandma-like and soothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 11 days

Note

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.”

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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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!

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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houseofripley · 2 months

Note

HEYYA

Could you write a rhea x fem!reader story where reader eats rhea out while she’s playing video games with her friends? (Smut obv). Please and thank you (I love your writing)

Game Over

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Public Sex? kinda idk, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering WORD COUNT: 1,367 A/N: ANONNNNN YOU AND I ARE ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH!!! i literally started a draft for something super similar to these a couple hours before you sent this omg

“Aimlabs is free, you should try it sometime, dumbass!” Rhea’s voice thundered from her office down the hall. “Rhea! It’s just a game! Calm down!” You yelled, making your way to the office.

Your girlfriend had confined herself in her office since eight in the morning. The past three and a half hours were full of Rhea loudly yelling at her teammates. Half the time you couldn’t even tell if she was celebrating with or ridiculing the others.

You walked up behind Rhea’s chair and placed your hands over her broad shoulders. You could hear the voices of your shared colleagues blaring through Rhea’s headset as you rested your chin on the top of her head, watching her play Call of Duty: Warzone.

“I think you should spend some time with me instead of playing your stupid games all day.” You proclaimed, “We could go shopping, go for a walk, and have lunch…” You dreamed, rubbing Rhea’s shoulders.

“Later baby.” Rhea said quietly, making sure her mic wouldn’t pick up your conversation. You huffed and moved your hands to steal Rhea’s headset from her head causing a puzzled noise to come from her mouth.

“Alright who’s the one that’s stealing my girlfriend from me?” You playfully asked, Rhea’s attention was still focused on the round she was playing.

Dom and Damian were on the other end of the voice call, Damian was quick to place the blame on Dominik. “Woah woah woah! This isn’t fair, I’m innocent!” Dom complained, faking being offended.

“Dude, you literally spam texted the group chat for three minutes straight at eight in the morning.” Damian accused as he let out a deep chuckle.

“I believe it, Dom, you are always at the scene of the crime. Now I’d like it if you all would hurry up so I can enjoy the afternoon with my girlfriend.” You played with the two guys.

Dominik threw a mini tantrum in reaction to him dying in the game, “You guys seriously just made me die! Just for that I’m making sure Rhea’s staying online all day.”

“We did not make you die! Maybe you’re just bad at the game!!!” You quickly said before returning the headset to Rhea, hearing Dom’s faint complaints.

Rhea let out a scoffed laugh as she helped Damian win the round, “Too easy, let’s play ranked.” Rhea’s words caused you to groan as you moved to stand next to her. “Rheaaaa,” You pestered, squatting next to her chair.

“Just one more game I promise.” Rhea stated, her eyes looking over and down at you. “We both know how that's gonna end. One game is gonna turn into two and two games is gonna turn into six games.” You whined as Rhea ran her hand through your hair.

Rhea didn’t respond to your gripes, she instead turned her concentration back to her screens, leaving you pouting. But you needed her attention, you’d do anything to get that attention and you had the perfect idea.

From your squatting position you got on your hands and knees and crawled under Rhea’s desk. Rhea glanced down at you, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you spread her legs apart. “The hell are you doing?” Rhea aggressively asked, her hand covering her microphone while your hands slowly slid her sweatpants off.

“Play your game mami. I know you want to.” You taunted, looking up at her with puppy eyes. Rhea cocked her eyebrow as her eyes returned to her game.

You ran your finger over Rhea’s panties while peppering kisses over her tattoo covered thighs, causing her breath to hitch while she spoke about the match with the boys.

Your hands carefully pulled your girlfriend's panties off as you looked up at her, her eyes fighting to focus on her screen.

Your mouth hovered inches from Rhea’s warmth as you blew a soft gush of air against her wetness, a sharp gasp came from the woman who was trying to save her team from a loss.

“Jesus,” Rhea quietly cursed out under her breath once your tongue finally made contact with her sensitive skin. “Everything alright Rhea?” You could hear Damian's question leak from the headset. “Yeah, all good. Just uh-” Rhea cleared her throat, searching for an excuse as your tongue began roaming between her folds. “Just frustrated with the match…”

Your hands faintly ran up and down Rhea’s spread legs, your mouth beginning to focus on her entrance. Your nose pressed against her clit as you took in her sweetness, causing Rhea to narrow her eyes in pleasure.

You watched as the woman struggled to keep her attention on her screen, your tongue swirling around her entrance, occasionally slipping inside her. Rhea’s mind began slipping away from her, resulting in her character dying.

“Shit sorry- you guys f-finish this round,” Rhea sighed through shaky breaths before muting her mic. She looked down to you as she leaned back in her chair. “God damn you’re such a brat.” She moaned, taking a fistfull of your hair. She held your head in place as she began grinding herself onto your face. The intensity of her eye contact had created a pool between your legs. Quiet groans left her throat as she helped herself to your mouth.

Rhea’s deep moans were soon interrupted by both the boys yelling her name. She reluctantly let go of your hair before looking back up and unmuting herself. “Yeah, I’m here sorry.” she mumbled as your fingers inched up between her legs.

“Last round…don’t fuck around this time.” You could hear Damian warn before Dominik added on, “Dude, you lost like…all your skills last round, what is going on with you?”

“Yeah yeah. Don’t worry I’m all in t-this match.” Rhea struggled, holding back a moan as your pointer and middle finger snuck into her tightness.

You couldn't help but chuckle at how seriously the three of them took the game. “Yeah mami, don’t lose this round.” You quietly teased the woman causing her eyes to dart down to you as if to say ‘watch your mouth’.

Once the match had officially begun you connected your lips to Rhea’s swollen clit meanwhile your fingers began exploring her insides.

Rhea let out multiple profanities as the match progressed, attempting to replace the sound of pleasure with the sound of frustration towards the game. The guys were already suspicious of her behavior, the last thing she needed was to moan in the middle of a match.

You continued letting your mouth and fingers play with Rhea causing her legs to tighten around your head. “Fuck-” She quietly grumbled in reaction to your fingers picking up their pace.

“God damnit! I’m out.” Dominik yelled in frustration.

You hummed against Rhea’s cunt, her face plastered with the look of pleasure as her legs began shaking.

“They got me too. There's only one dude left on the opposite team, just be careful around corners.” Damian complained out.

“Just you left Rhea come on!” Dom egged on.

Rhea’s muscles began tensing up, her breathing intensified as she began the hunt for her final opponent.

She had found her target. Her eyes locked in on their hitbox as your fingers began curling while you thrusted in and out of her.

“Oh-Fuck! Shit!” Rhea yelled out, her orgasm hitting her as she took her final shots, winning the game. You heard cheers come from her headphones as she looked down at you with heavy breaths.

You helped Rhea ride out her orgasm, slowing down the pace of your fingers and removing your mouth from her clit.

She shook her head at you as you removed your fingers from her warmth and began sucking them clean.

“Guys, something came up. I gotta go.” Rhea urged out. She wouldn’t let the boys even get one word in before leaving the call. Rhea slowly stood up from her seat and began pulling you out from under the table.

“Soooo, shopping?” You sweetly asked, batting your eyelashes as you stood up. “You think you’re shopping after that stunt?” Rhea scoffed, cocking her eyebrow. She picked you up and threw you over her shoulder before taunting, “Darling, You're gonna be in that bedroom all day.”

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley oneshot #wwe smut #rhea ripley fanfiction #request #rhea ripley

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blushweddinggowns · 4 months

Text

“So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life.

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?”

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #alternate universe #famous eddie munson #damn your love damn your lies

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mapileonxputellas · 6 months

Text

Beckham II: 1 New Beginning

Please find instagram aesthetic here.

Post here explains how I've wrote it, I think it's quite simple.

This is the first part of my new series and I hope you enjoy xx (3k words)

“Do you ever think about how crazy it is that you’re an icon in Barcelona and yet your dad played for Real Madrid?”

“I try not to think about that. I think that bothers him more than me.”

“Does he have any Barcelona shirts?”

“Of course he does.”

…..

“David, how does it feel watching your daughter play for Barcelona?”

“It’s the best feeling in the world. I’m guessing you were expecting some kind of rivalry but I’ll always support my daughter.”

…..

Barcelona, February 2023.

One down, nine to go.

It was like clockwork in your brain. Training would finish, everyone else would rush to get back into the training room and get back to their everyday life. Yet here you were, on your own, just how you like it. You and the ball. Free kick after free kick after free kick. Ten in total, all from different areas, all with different aims but each one just as equally important in your brain.

Barcelona was a dream. You were here with the best players in the world but you hated letting anyone down. Every little mistake was over-analysed, picked at all because of who you were. At the weekend it was a wonder save which stopped one nestling in the top corner but that didn’t matter. It hadn’t gone in and therefore didn’t meet your expectations.

The expectations you put on yourself, multiplied by that moment four years ago.

You loved your father but many people probably didn’t understand that there wasn’t a gene for taking good free kicks.

Unbeknownst to you, all of this was about to change. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“If it’s another journalist, tell them I’m not interested.”

You couldn’t be bothered with whatever reply the press officer would tell you. It was the same every day. Someone wanted to speak to you, you said no. They came back the next day.

You’d think they’d get bored after four years of consistent turn aways but that was never the case. You did the press conferences, the interviews after games but a sit-down full-length interview was not something you felt like you could ever handle.

So you carried on, resetting the ball in the correct spot. Back to just you and the ball.

For February it was a sunny afternoon in Barcelona, the sun was still shining for the mid-afternoon with minimal wind. Perfect conditions to practice and as your teammates had pointed out you hadn’t needed any more persuasion to get that training vest on, your tattoos on full show. Along with football they were your biggest passion, your phone was full of tattoo inspiration and little doodles you did when you were bored, they were a big part of you and maybe the image you wanted to create for yourself.

You took inspiration from everything, football, the environment, your father. Growing up many would say you were already a carbon copy of him but the tattoos were the icing on the cake. Your mother may not have been as happy about them but they promised to accept all your passions and that included turning up every few months with a new collection of tattoos to show off.

…..

“Maria, is she copying you?”

“You’ll have to ask her. No of course not, I would say we take great inspiration from each other. We’ve got a few matching ones, I’ve done a few on her and she’s done the same to me. That’s kind of what started our friendship.”

“You both have ‘looks can be deceiving’ on your necks, is that true for her?”

“Depends on what you think of her. Maybe some find her scary but you have to find out if that’s true yourself.”

…..

You could hear someone approaching you, watching as you took the next kick nestling it into the bottom corner underneath the imaginary wall.

“Y/N, have you got five minutes?” The unmistakable voice of Sarina. Many people would love Serena Weigman to turn up at their training session, not you. Not now.

Shit. You almost didn’t want to turn around. Maybe if you stayed facing the other way she would leave. Leave you be in the bubble you’d created for yourself, nothing good could come out of this conversation.

But of course the Dutch woman wasn’t going to leave that easily, edging closer to you. “I only want to talk.”

“I gave you my answer a year ago.”

“Lots can change in a year. Five minutes. If you still want me to leave after, I’ll leave.”

Maybe it was worth hearing what she had to say. Nothing could change your mind anyway, you’d hear whatever she had to say and then she could leave.

You knew what she was here for and it didn’t surprise you what came out of her mouth next. “I want you back, I name my squad next week and I want you ready to play for us at the World Cup.”

“And I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“The fans are not that accepting, the players don’t deserve to be drawn into that drama because of me.”

“There’s always drama in football.” Maybe she had a point but off the back of the Euro’s success the lionesses have had nothing but positivity from the media and public. “We’ve lost Beth, we’ve lost Fran and I think the players would welcome your experience in that position. It’s your decision but I know deep down you want to prove people wrong and I want to give you that opportunity.”

“Some would say I don’t deserve that.”

“It will be different this time.”

“How?”

“It’s been four years, everything’s changed. We protect you guys, you have support systems in place, we have support systems. It’s not individuals anymore, it’s a team.”

“I made that decision to protect myself.” Almost four years ago you’d sent that letter, asking not to be selected for international duty again. They had no choice but to accept it and when Serena came into the role she approached you but you told her a tournament on home soil was not something you could mentally cope with. Not yet. “Why would now be different?”

“I’ve watched every game you’ve played in the last 18 months. I know you may not see a difference in yourself but I do, the interview after you lost to Lyon showed your spirit, your drive. I need players like you, it won’t be easy but I don’t want something that happened four years ago to stop you showing the world how talented you are.”

You were conflicted. Of course you’d love nothing more than to prove all those who bashed you before wrong, to make a difference on the world stage after winning every trophy you could with Barcelona. On the other hand it was just opening a can of worms you’d hidden all those years ago. Although you were only in Spain it felt like a different world, you turned your comments off on social media and they never came back on. Interviews were a no-go and your former friends were now distant acquaintances.

“Can I think about?”

“Of course you can. Like I said, the squad goes out on Tuesday so I need an answer by Monday. Any questions, I’m coming to the match on Sunday, maybe I can speak to you after?”

“Thank you.” With a soft squeeze to your shoulder she was off, except now you couldn’t focus knowing you were about to make a decision which would change everything.

…..

“You seem distracted.”

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea to accept the dinner invite from Maria and Ingrid but you knew your best friends wouldn’t take no for an answer. The three of you along with Frido were sat at their dinner table, tucking into the tapas you’d ordered from your favourite restaurant and it wasn’t lost on any of them how your mind was elsewhere. Casually picking through your food was a total opposite to the way you usually devoured this.

“Y/N?”

You’d been debating on the way whether to speak to someone about it.

Maybe your dad? He’d gone through something similar but he was in Miami and would only just be getting up.

Your mum? She was the most rational option but she would never understand that pride of pulling on your national shirt.

Your therapist seemed the best option but the earliest session she had for non-emergencies was tomorrow.

“Y/N!” In your own little world you’d even forgot to answer their questions. “Are you alright?”

It could help speaking to them, couldn’t it? “I had a visitor after training. Sarina Weigman.”

“Shit man, I thought you said no.” Maria Leon was your best friend from the moment you stepped foot in that training room, you bonded over everything from tattoos to food. You’d been her wingman in getting with Ingrid and had a mutual understanding of each other’s situations with your respective national teams even if the circumstances were very different.

“She wants me back but I don’t know, this feels different from last year.” If Bonnie, your 5-year-old beagle, adopted 3 years ago to signify a new chapter in your life, wasn’t by your feet they would definitely be anxiously tapping the floor right now.

“They probably feel your absence more because they’ve lost other players.” Frido added some context. “Not that you wouldn’t have always walked into that team but now you definitely would. You’d be their main player.”

“I can see you’re considering it.” Ingrid pointed out. “When she came last year I could see you were like, definitely no, now you haven’t turned it down immediately.”

“There’s no right or way wrong to feel,” Maria tried to comfort me. “Only you can decide if you want to go back there.”

“I miss it.”

“Of course you do.” Ingrid agreed. “You wouldn’t watch all their games if you didn’t.”

“It’s just the fact that I’m comfortable here, I have been for so long and now I’m going to throw myself back into four years ago.” Four years ago when you’d been forced to move away from your club at the time in Chelsea and accept the fact that one mistake had changed everything. “Plus the media attention, no-one wants that in the lead up to the world cup.”

“They were your friends, I’m sure they’d understand.” Frido tried to make you see that side of things. “Shit happens in football but what happened to you when completely over the top of that.”

“I isolated them.” Of course you had friends in the squad at the time, in fact best friends. But as soon as you made the move to America you slowly distanced yourself from them as they did to you. You hated letting them down and completely understood that being associated to you meant unnecessary exposure where perhaps they would not want it.

“So you’ll make friends again.”

You’d changed as well, grown into a completely different person in that time. Your appearance and attitude on the pitch were a distinct opposite to the crippling shyness you had yet to shake off. “Maybe.”

“You will,” Maria assured you. “Plus I think Bonnie told me she wanted a sleepover with me.”

“Oh did she?”

“I’m not swaying you either way but if that’s what you want, I’ll support you all the way.”

“We all will.” Frido added wrapping her arms around you to bring you into her side. “We love you.”

“Thank you, I love you all too.”

“Speak to your dad, maybe even your mum. I’m sure they’d want to help.”

One of the funniest moments in your life had to be watching your teammates introduce themselves to your parents when they came out to watch your first match in the Blaugrana. Watching their nerves dissipate when they realised how down to earth, especially your mother was, when it came to their children. Of course their name brought so much extra attention to you but you couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing.

Maybe it was their words that made you do it but subconsciously you knew the best thing to do was to ring them. So as you got into bed that night, once you got back, Bonnie at your feet watching, you rang the number you’d had memorised for years.

“Hi baby.” His voice almost brought tears to your eyes. Although you tried to be as independent as possible, wanting to be your own person, you sometimes wished you could just go back to spending every night in his arms.

“Hi dad.”

“What’s wrong?” You hated how easily he could read you, how those two words were enough for him to know something was wrong.

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know dad.” Out with it. “Sarina Weigman came to visit me today, she wants me to go and join them in the next international break.”

“And what do you want?”

“I think I want to.”

“You think?”

“I just know that if I do I’m just going to be brought back to that moment.”

“Then you’ll go back to a moment where the referees made a terrible decision. Football fans are fickle you know that as much as I do but you’ve watched it back enough to know that nine times out of ten nothing happens. The commentator did you no favours, Phil didn’t stand by you as he should have and the media hung you out to dry.”

“I know.”

“But as awful as it was it made you the person you are today and your stronger now then you’ve ever been before. If you want to go back then you’ll make it work. I know you will.”

“Thanks dad, now how is…”

,,,,,

“How many times have you watched that tackle back?”

“Over a thousand times.”

“Do you think you should have been sent off?”

“Of course not.”

……

You loved Barcelona, from the moment you stepped through those doors 3 years ago you’d been welcomed in and never looked back. In 2019 you moved to America but your year out there was plagued with depression and homesickness resulting in a lack of game time, when Barcelona came calling it was a difficult decision with your family ties but they had a project, they had a good set up and you knew the onus wouldn’t just be on you. The first six months were still tough, working out Spanish football to both play with your teammates and counter the opposition but by the end of the season you felt at home for the first time in 2 years.

Your role this year had been heightened by the loss of one of your midfield partners in Alexia, but you were adaptable and that’s probably how you found yourself 4-0 up, having just scored a second goal in the second half.

“It’s almost like you’re trying to impress someone.” Mapi whispered giving you a half hug as you walked back into your own half.

“Shut up.”

“I bet she’s panicking that you might turn it down now.”

“She’s got other players Maria.”

“But none of them are you.”

The match stayed at 4-0, some of the youngsters coming on to see the game out.

You’d never been in a team like this, of course you had little arguments and there were small groups within the team, but everyone worked so hard for each other. And with that came the protectiveness, when you joined you were only 21, now 24 and the older ones took you under their wings. You’d been daunted a lot at the fact of playing fellow English players in the Champions League but they’d been your shield for those moments.

It blew your mind when the younger age groups joined you and they speak about that moment. Most of them staying up late to watch it making you feel old. But that meant they came to you for advice a lot of the time. Maybe this time though it was time to get advice from them.

“Hey little one.” Maria Perez was the first one you spotted in the changing room. “You played really well today.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you feeling about being called up?” It was only yesterday that the Spanish squad had been leaked and she was once again in it.

“Excited, another opportunity to prove myself.”

“I like that you see it that way.”

“Everyone should, it’s no different to playing here, as long as you be yourself you can never be disappointed.”

…….

@jillsmithjournalist: Serena Weigman is present at the Barcelona match. No current England players are playing however star player Y/N Beckham scored twice. Beckham has not played for England since she withdrew from selection in August 2019 amid public backlash and a rumoured feud with England manager Phil Neville. Could a return be on the cards?

@newlionesses_x: Surely she can’t just pick and choose when to come back.

@wslfan: Fine without her last year

@england123: Liability for England

@barcelonafan: All you hating on Beckham are crazy, one of the best players in the world and you don’t want her back because of something that happened 4 years ago, grow up. Could tell she struggled when she joined us but this past year she’s been exceptional, people change, mistakes happen (even though she should never have been sent off in the first place)

…..

You’ve known your decision for a long time but you still delayed giving it as long as possible before you could wait no longer. You could see she was the only one left in the hospitality area as you entered, the table she had chose overlooking the pitch you’d just performed on.

This was what you wanted and now it felt only right to give yourself that opportunity again.

“I’ll do it.”

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #lionesses #engwnt #david beckham #beckham #football

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greynatomy · 5 months

Text

perfect

alessia russo x reader

based on this and this request.

———

You were currently seven months pregnant. And you were miserable. Alessia, your wife, has been amazing through the whole journey.

Like right now, you woke up in the middle of the night after feeling some pain in your back. Unable to fall asleep, you carefully got out of your wife’s grip and exited the bedroom. You went to the living room, seeing a bit of a mess and started to clean up.

Back in the bedroom, Alessia stirs in her sleep and reaches out to the other side of the bed for you only to find it empty. The space was still slightly warm meaning you got out just recently. She gets out of the bed, shivering when her bare feet touches the cold floor and makes her way out. Entering the living room, she finds you with a duster, dusting anything and everything you could reach. She leans against the hallway wall, arms folded over her chest.

“Hey, honey. What are you doing?”

“Ugh! Don’t even get me started.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“If you can somehow get this baby out of me.”

Alessia pushes off the wall and walks towards you.

“Can I try something?” You feel her standing behind you, her breath fanning against your ear sending shivers down your spine. You can only let out a hum of confirmation, too flustered to know how to use words.

Her arms move to wrap themselves around your waist, hands coming under your bump.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. Just lean on me.” Her voice soft, you comply, turning your head to breathe in her scent.

She intertwines her hands together under your bump, slowly and carefully lifts your stomach up. Immediately you let out a sigh, relieved at the weight being taken from you.

“Oh, I could marry you all over again.”

She holds your stomach for about a minute, pressing light kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“I’m gonna put it down slowly now.” She does, making you release a groan. “Think you can come back to bed?”

“Mmhm.”

A few days later, Alessia had gotten home late. She expected you to be asleep, but she found you awake sitting at the dining room table, laptop open and papers sprawled over.

“Baby? Why are you still up?” She asks, moving to stand behind you, hands massaging your shoulders.

You sigh, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“There’s still so much to do.”

“Well, when do you need them done by?”

“Uh, Thursday.”

“Babe. You have like a week to get it done. You’re working too much.”

“I just wanna get ahead.”

Being with you for years, Alessia knows one way to get you to stop working. Grabbing her phone, she connects it to the speakers around the house.

You look away from the screen, hearing the familiar song, a favorite of yours.

Perfect by Ed Sheeran

“May I have this dance?”

You accept her hand that she held out for you. She pulls you as close to her as she could, minding your belly. It’s was silent bar the music. Alessia takes the lead, swaying to the melody.

“You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself, amore mio. It’s not good for you and the baby.”

You sigh into her neck. “I know. I just want to get everything done before she comes.”

“And you will. Just give yourself some more breaks. I want the baby to be healthy, but I want my wife to be healthy as well.”

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her homeI found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“Feel like watching a film with me?”

“Depends. Which film?”

“Tangled?”

“Oh, baby. If you think I was bad watching that before I was pregnant, wait and see after. These hormones got me acting up.”

“And I’ll have a box of tissues ready for you.”

She pulls away from the dance, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as the song ends, giving you a passionate kiss. It makes you tear up.

Pulling away from the kiss, she goes back to hold you, her warm breath fanning over your ear as she sings you the last line.

You look perfect tonight.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt x reader

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abbyromanoff · 6 months

Text

YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MINE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,475

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, divorce, depression, fluff, mind manipulation, the hex being created, pregnancy, kinda dark, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda hummed as the flavors hit her taste buds, her eyes directed at you as she smiled warmly.

“How do you like the dinner, sweetheart?” You grinned beneath the fork inside your mouth, instantly returning your lips back to a thin line when her eyes left you.

“Well, I hope you’d like it, I spent many hours prepping this.” She chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze from across the table. You still didn’t utter a word, she was growing concerned.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You shrugged, nervously playing with your food as you bit the inside of your cheek, a habit you started and failed to stop, much to Wanda’s liking.

“C’mon, you can talk to me, that’s what I’m here for.” You looked up, noticing her intense gaze that showed she knew exactly what you were going to say.

“You still haven’t signed the papers.” Her body tensed, her eyes shutting as she sighed. Her hand balled into a tight fist as she continued to eat. She could see you were lacking the ring on your finger, the sight making her want to crawl into a corner and cry her eyes out. There was no way out of this, she realized, so she had to make one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“My fucking God, Wanda,” You slammed your hands down, standing as you paced urgently. She refused to look, instead finding her meal all the more interesting.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You can’t sign some fucking papers, really? This marriage has been ruined the moment you slept with that tramp.” The realization made her throat tighten, tears nearly ready to spill from her loopy eyes.

“I told you it was a mistake, it meant nothing-”

“That doesn’t stop the fact that it happened, Wanda! Do you think it’s easy for me to have to live here daily? To see you and constantly be reminded of what you did? I worked so hard to even convince myself I was worthy of you, and you go and do this?” She cowered down, wiping her hands on the small cloth in her lap while you stared at her, nostrils flared and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did-”

“God, will you let me fucking speak?” She yelled, growing frustrated with the constant interruption. You didn’t refute, instead placing your hands on your hips as you waited for her voice to return.

“I told you, I was drunk and she looked so much like you. We were fighting, I was upset, you were too, so I went out and got wasted to the point I could barely walk. I saw her there and I…I let her take me home, but when I woke up I- I realized what I did and I knew I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.” You already heard the story before, the same one that haunted you in your dreams. You imagined someone else being able to hear the moans she promised were only for you, it made you violently ill.

“I made a promise to you, and I plan to keep it. I will never, and I mean never, touch a drink again. I won’t even look in another woman’s direction because I don’t need to when I have my wife right in front of me. My perfect, breathtaking, loving wife that I care for so much.” She wrapped her arms around your waist as she dropped to her knees, placing her forehead against your thigh.

“Please, baby, I don’t know how many times I have to apologize before you forgive me, but I’ll continue to tell you for the rest of my life.” She placed small kisses against the covered skin, feeling the warmth that you supplied, the same warmth that brought her comfort at night. Now it brought her shame and guilt, but she’d rather carry that burden for the rest of her life than lose you for even a moment.

“I don’t want to have to be reminded of what you did for the rest of my life, Wanda. I’m constantly having someone down my ear telling me how terrible you are, and how I should never forgive you. For fucks sake, even our friends have told me to leave you! How am I going to look them in the eye again knowing all they see is someone who’s too gullible to even leave their cheating wife?” You sobbed, and the look on your face only brought misery to the woman. You seemed so lost, so exhausted, and she was the cause.

“I know, I know, and none of this is fair to you, and I’m so sorry I caused this-”

“Stop saying sorry. Please, I can’t do this.” You begged, your voice cracking as you drew more emotions.

“But I mean it! I never want you to feel like I don’t want you because I want you more than anything. I need you, Y/N, I need you in my life.” It was true, she didn’t know how to properly function without you. You were the only one who kept her going, you were the one who held her when she felt like she couldn’t stand. When she was ready to give up, she had you holding her back. Without you, she’d be nothing.

“You say you need me, but you don’t consider what I need. And what I need is for you to let me go, and sign the papers.” You wanted to give in, to fall into her embrace and let her make it up to you. But you couldn’t, your mind would never let you forget the scene you walked in on. And maybe you’d still remember it vividly without her, but at least you wouldn’t have to be in the exact place it happened with the person who did it. At least you could move on and find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like this, intoxicated or not.

“No- no, I won’t do it.” Tear stains painted your shirt from where her head rested, you knew you’d have to throw this out sooner than later.

“Wanda, please, just do it.” You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to ignore her pleas.

“But-”

“I’m begging you, Wanda. If you truly loved me, you’d want me to be happy.” She rushed towards you when you tried to escape her tight hold.

“You’re happier with me-”

“I can’t be happy with you, not when I can’t stop thinking about what you did. It ruined me, Wands, and it continues to haunt me every breathing moment.” The nickname brought a crack to her rotting heart. Her body felt like it was decaying the more you pulled away and the more she tried to hold on.

“You’re going to sign the papers. And then I’ll be gone. This is best for the both of us, you’ll learn to live without me.” She felt as though she was going to be sick, why were you still denying her? She couldn’t let you go. No, she couldn’t.

You leaned down to her level, moving the hair that covered her face out of the way. You cupped her cheeks, smiling sadly as her sobs caused her hands to shake lightly. She reached out hopefully, copying your action and bringing herself closer.

“Can I- can I have one last kiss, at least?” You looked down, sighing as you shook your head before returning her gaze.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think either of us will be able to stop.”

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” You chuckled, and it felt like music to her ears. She smiled warmly, even though her chest tightened and her breath cut short.

“I love you, Wanda, I always will. Maybe we were just never meant to be, and that’s okay. But if I don’t let you go now, I’ll never be able to be happy.” But you could’ve been meant to be, she realized. You could’ve been the best, most loving couple. Your kids would’ve grown up in a healthy, safe household full of love. But that all came to an end when that night left her hopeless, she pleaded with God constantly to rid her actions but they were never heard.

“I love you too, Y/N, and I want you to be happy, I just wish I could’ve been the reason.”

“You were.” The past tense was what caused her body to crash into yours. She lost all control as your arms brought her a sense of comfort she lacked for so long.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

In a few months, the divorce was being settled and you officially moved out. You had been staying with a friend for some time, and she was more than happy to help you out. She had been in a similar situation before, so it was clear what she had to do when she saw you standing on her front porch. Wanda thought she would be able to see you when you would gather your stuff from her place, but a multitude of your friends went instead, all of them giving glares to the older woman as she refused to look at the empty home. It seemed wrong without your stuff here, and all she had were pictures of the two of you that she couldn’t remove.

She felt hopeless as time progressed, and the lack of messages or calls from you only made time move slower. Every day felt like a decade as she failed to execute basic human needs. She often struggled to get out of bed or brush her teeth, and now it’s been two days since she last showered. She wondered how you were, she hoped you weren’t in such a horrid state like herself. But a part of her also hoped you were, just so she knew you still cared.

Eventually, it all became too much. She hadn’t slept in her bed in over a year, the constant reminder that another laid where you once were disgusted her. The couch had become her home, but even the couch seemed to shame her. Her favorite movies didn’t feel the same without you laughing with her. The sitcoms she loved so much now annoyed her; she had changed completely, and it was all her fault.

She couldn’t hold it back anymore, she broke. Her small, empty home in the town of Westview became full once again. She didn’t know what happened. One moment she was sobbing uncontrollably while huddling close to the stuffed animal she had won for you on your first date, then the plain walls filled with hope. Her heart slowly gained a beat, and her hands felt warm again. She stood in front of a door, her fist finding the wood and creating a small knock.

“It’s open!” She heard, and she stopped in her tracks. It was you, it was your angelic voice that was slowly fading from her mind. She gulped fearfully before twisting the knob, letting her legs take control as she stepped forward.

“Love, you’re home!” You greeted with a smile, turning to face her as Wanda’s eyes fell on the toddler being held in your arms. She had the same hair as Wanda, and while it wasn’t easy to spot from so far away, she could see her green, piercing eyes looking back at her. The child giggled and pointed her chubby finger her way, causing a smile to break out on her face.

“Everything alright, sweetie?” You asked when she didn’t move, her mouth agape and her hands nearly releasing the briefcase she held.

“Yes…everything is just perfect, my love.” She mustered out, rushing towards your figure and embracing you in a tight hold. The replica of her was left with a small kiss to her forehead before she took her into her arms, blowing raspberries on her exposed tummy. Alana giggled again, and it felt like Wanda’s ear would explode. She felt like she was dreaming, only this wasn’t the nightmare she fought with every night. No, this time you were here to cure her.

“Momma!” She heard from a distance, seeing a young boy running to greet her. He hugged her leg tightly, causing Wanda to stumble before she leaned down, ruffling his hair before she gave him a small side hug, the baby in her arms restricting her from embracing him as much as she wanted to.

“Hey, kiddo! How was your day?”

“It was amazing! Me, Mommy, and Alana made dinner!” She gasped, showing her appreciation towards the excited boy before he ran off to the kitchen as she requested. He was still too young to carry his little sister, so she continued to do so.

“And hello to you, my sweet baby.” Wanda placed a small kiss against your stomach, placing her hand against the bump and rubbing her thumb in small, soothing circles.

“Have they been giving you any trouble today?” She asked, resulting in a small sigh from your end.

“They’ve been kicking all day. I swear, if they’re not professional soccer players, I don’t know what else they’ll do.” Wanda laughed before leaving multiple pecks to your lips, grasping your hand in hers before leading you to the kitchen.

“Well, it’s only a few more months until they’ll be out of you, I know you can do it.” You stopped in your tracks, eyeing her and causing the taller woman to stall. Nobody wanted to see you angry, especially when you were pregnant.

“First of all, I don’t see you carrying two demons in your stomach, so I’d shut up if I were you. And, second of all, this is the third time I’m doing this, you are no longer allowed to go without a condom.” She placed her hand on her chest as if she was offended and you grinned, leaving a kiss on her cheek before walking through the kitchen door where your son laid out all the dishes for you four. You thanked him before he climbed onto his seat, still finding himself to be too short for the chairs you had. Wanda placed your daughter in the high chair before taking the seat next to her. You noticed her smiling large, her eyes being filled with more joy than usual.

“What’s got you all happy?” She admired the scene in front of her, Pietro Jr and Alana sitting peacefully, both of them sharing the genes she was blessed with. Her partner, smiling back at her while they carried her twins, she couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have all of you.” You blushed, tilting your head slightly as you bit your lip.

“Well, that’s never going to change, sweetheart.” ‘I’ll make sure of it’, she thought.

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waywardcrow · 3 months

Text

This is a request from @tianalsworld and I loved it so much! Hope you like it!

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x f!reader.

TW: Very light talk about the mob, sexual innuendos, suggestive comments, a little of angst and threaths from reader, no use of y/n, minors dni. English is not my first language so let me know if I make any grammar mistakes.

Graphics by @ firefly-graphics so all the credits to the creator.

“Hello, doll, you look astonishing today” you rolled your eyes at Bucky’s greeting, ignoring the jump your heart gave in your ribcage, you hated this man.

“Don’t call me doll, Barnes” you hissed, focused in getting the right amount of glass sugar in your mix “save that for the rich ladies attending your party tonight.”

Without giving him a glance you moved around your kitchen, the sun was barely up and your staff would not be there for another half an hour, still you couldn’t sleep. This was your first big event, you were working for a criminal family, yes but you were finally being recognized for your abilities, no longer shoved aside by stupid snobs who believed they were better than you for attending international schools and a manwhore like James Buchanan Barnes would not ruin this for you, no matter how hot he was.

“It’s jealousy what I hear?” he asked and got hit in the hand by you when he went to touch a hot tray.

“In your dreams, Barnes” his mother, the one who hired you, gave you full permission to deal with her son’s antics, knowing damn well his Casanova attitude.

“In my dreams you are sweeter with me, love”

“Well, in reality I have very sharp knives so go and bother someone else” you ordered and his laugh echoed in the empty fancy walls.

“Always making me smile, doll. Keep up with this and we’re going to end up married” Bucky stole a sugar cookie before you could react and walking backwards to the door, he blew you a kiss.

“When hell freezes over!” still, you didn’t believed a word.

Hours later, your kitchen was the complete opposite of what it was in the morning.

Chaos reigned everywhere but you controlled it, disappointing Winnifred Barnes wasn’t an option. Your hands ached, your feet were numb but the adrenaline running through your veins was enough to keep going shouting orders and prepping dishes, your brain going faster that your body and before you could notice, it was over.

The waiters were bringing everything back; the guests went home and your boss went to kiss you twice in the cheeks, beaming with happiness.

“It was perfect, dear, I knew since I saw you that you could do great things” Mrs. Barnes was like the classy ladies you used to see in magazines but she was always so nice to you, you couldn’t help but smile at her, happy for having her approval.

“I’m glad you liked it, Mrs. Barnes”

“I loved it but now, it’s time for you to rest a little, you earned it, we can talk about this and everything else in the morning” with a soft touch to your cheek, she left the kitchen, thanking the staff one more time.

You did the same minutes after, excusing yourself to go for some air you made your way to the garden.

It was only your first month in the Barnes mansion but it felt like a whole life, this could give you a lot of trouble but it was the best job you had so far and if you were totally honest with yourself, you were too enamored with the Barnes family to leave them.

Winnie was so sweet to you, so was the youngest daughter Rebecca and Mr. Barnes was always so polite, asking about your day and if you needed something, then there was Bucky.

The first time you saw him, you thought he was the most beautiful man you ever met and you still thought that way but being familiar with the endless list of women he slept with, it was the safest choice to stay away.

“There she is” Bucky’s voice broke through the night and then he was standing next to you “come, sweetheart, I have something for you.”

He pulled you by the hand and took you inside the house again with little effort, you were so tired.

“Barnes let go, I’m not going anywhere with you” making him stop you tried to pull your hand from his but he didn’t listened.

“Relax, doll, here is not where I go on my knees for you” the lack of food was playing with your mind, did he said what you heard he said?

He made you go in the balcony where a table was set with dishes of your food, candles and wine.

“What- what are you doing?” was your only question when he led you to your chair to pull it and help you take a seat.

“I figure you haven’t eaten all day so I picked your favorites” he explained like if he did this every day while pouring some wine for you.

It was true all your favorite foods were there, even the wine you were dying to try since you saw it in the mansion’s cellar.

“I mean, why are you doing this?” you asked taking a sip of your glass, it would hurt when he finally give up on you and go to the next conquer but it would be for the better.

“Because you take care of everyone here, I thought someone should take care of you for once” Bucky explained unfolding his napkin with something that looked like a nervous attitude but that wasn’t impossible, he was a fuckboy, a manwhore, the type of man that sleeps in a different bed every night and you were… you, there was no way you made him nervous.

“That’s very kind, Bucky” you admitted and his smile was shiny enough to dare the stars in the sky.

“Maybe this way you would see I’m a good guy and go out with me” he winked and maybe it was how tired you were or the wine but you laughed.

“When hell freezes over, Barnes.”

Here I am, obssesing over one more mob!Bucky and it feels great! Let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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gfcheol · 2 years

Text

confidently lost | k. mingyu

pairing: mingyu x reader

genre: smut (this is really filthy i'm so sorry lmao)

word count: 2.8k

tags: dilf!mingyu, divorced!mingyu, babysitter!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, mingyu early 40s), daddy kink, sir kink(?), mommy kink (mingyu wants to make reader a mommy), breeding kink, mild size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex

summary: it's not easy to work your way through college, luckily for you, your babysitting job pays exceptionally well. and your boss is absolutely gorgeous.

you'd never really been fond of the colour grey. the way moody clouds clogged up the sky with cold indifference; or the concrete jungle of the city urged you to succumb to stressful days - it had always left an uneasy feeling within you. there was no warmth to it, no playful side, no joy, nothing.

although you'd found a new appreciation for it, once you started working for your current boss - mr kim mingyu. grey looked different on him. his suits seemed elegant, rather than arrogant. there were no harsh edges around him, nothing cold in his radiant smile or his salt and pepper hair. he was a kind, dedicated and gorgeous man, who always treated you with kindness, no matter how late he came home. and on top of all that, he was also a wonderful father. he was able to make a color as hopeless as grey shine.

"mr kim", he had introduced himself with a firm handshake, keeping his gaze steady as you felt your whole body flare up. "although mingyu's just fine with me. you're from uh- what are they called again? 'tiny treasures', right?"

you must have looked like a fish out of water then, gawking at him with wide eyes and parted lips, as though he had two heads standing on his shoulder. as much as you had tried, your eyes kept wandering to his broad chest and tall frame, feeling almost entranced by his presence alone. "uh- yes, mr kim. i'm currently still in college, so this is me trying to uh- make some money on the side. your daughter's two, right?"

"eunji's birthday is in december, she'll turn three then. i work from nine to five - her mother only gets her every second week of the month, so i appreciate any help i can get around the house", his smile had almost knocked the breath out of your lungs. even then you had known that this was going to be a problem. "and it's mingyu, sweetheart."

"when do you want me to start?", you'd merely replied, voice sounding disgustingly nervous.

his smile had turned into a smirk. "when are you able to?"

working for him simultaneously felt like a dream and like an absolute nightmare. yes, he might be a kind boss and eunji was nothing short of adorable. even his house seemed almost too perfect to be true. you were very certain of the fact that his job probably payed him handsomely - judging by his designer clothes and the many expensive toys eunji was entertained with. and yet, you felt this strange expanding in your chest sensation, whenever mr kim handed you your payment for the day. maybe he made you feel uneasy with his perfect little life as a confident man in his early fortys. maybe you felt like you didn't quite belong there, despite his welcoming presence.

or maybe, just maybe, it was your massive crush on him that fueled your anxiety. but who was to say?

"oh, shi- did i wake you two?", your ears perked up at the sound of your employer's voice, fingers still entangled in his daughter's soft hair. soft snores escaped her parted lips, her tiny arms holding still holding on to your torso. no matter how much you enjoyed hearing eunji's tiny giggles, you still felt relieved once she finally calmed down enough to fall asleep.

"hm? oh no, don't worry, sir", you replied, voice hushed. "uh sorry- do you mind taking her? my legs are starting to fall asleep."

"oh no, we can't have that", he chuckled, rounding the coffee table to lift her up from your lap, placing a soft kiss on top of her head. there were smile lines around his eyes as his beamed down at you and you swore, you could feel your heart skip a beat.

sure, you were quite aware of the age difference between you two. and yes, you were also quite aware of how stupid it would be, to start fucking your boss as someone who needs his money to go through college. but by god - were you not allowed to fantasize even a little bit?

he was goddamn gorgeous. his chest was broad, shoulders wide, biceps bulging even in dress shirts, and worst of all - his smile. there was always this wolfish glint in his eyes whenever he gifted you with a smile that left you questioning your sanity. it felt both, dangerous and exciting - as if you were breaking the rules just by talking to him. sometimes in moments like these, it did feel like he knew what kind of effect he had on you. and worst of all - he seemed like he found enjoyment in it. although you decided it'd best to bury that thought as deep as you could in the depth of your mind. who could afford to hope for something so naive?

your eyes followed him as he carried his daughter to her room, stretching your legs from underneath you. you hummed in relief at the blood rushing to your feet once again, letting your head fall back on the couch. exhaustion spread through your body, only suppressing a yawn with great effort. you were so ready for bed at this point.

"thank you again for coming in so late", mingyu sighed out, closing the living room door behind him with a soft 'click'. "i know, you usually don't really do weekends."

you offered him a faint smile. "oh please, it's nothing, mr kim. was there an emergency at the office or something? if i'm allowed to ask, that is."

to your surprise, he paused for a second, smile slightly faltering, before he moved to run his fingers through his hair. "it's mingyu, darling", the response felt automatic at this point but still never failed to make you feel all giddy. "i know you mean well, but i feel like i belong in a retirement home everytime you call me by my last name."

"i'm sorry, mr mingyu."

he snorted at that, casually leaning against the doorframe. "so she's afraid of using my name, but not afraid of teasing her boss?"

the heat that spread on your face felt unbearable to you, and yet you merely offered a shrug, suppressing the urge to giggle like a teen with a crush. "who said i was afraid?"

"if not afraid then-", his head tilted to the side, glancing up and down your still seated body. you felt so very exposed under his gaze, sinking further into the couch cushions. "is it nervousness? do i make you nervous, sweetheart?"

"n- do i have any reason to be nervous?" your question may have been bold, but the look of surprise on mr kim's face was worth the embarrassment crawling into your skin.

another pause on his end. his eyes trailed off into the distance, chasing something only he was aware of, his hands busy rolling up his sleeves. "i had a date today."

oh. oh fuck.

despite yourself, you felt your heart sink. how silly of you to hold any sort of expectations in regards to him. what did you think was going to happen? he was a grown man, free to do whatever who whomever he wanted, without any kind of obligation to his damned babysitter. "oh?", you flinched at the sound of your voice, sounding meek even to your own ears. "that's great. i hope it went well?"

just like that, he snapped back into reality, attention zeroing in on you. his smiley demeanor faded, replaced with an intensity you usually only saw from him during very particularly draining workdays. "i know eunji has a mother, i'm not looking for a replacement. she's my everything - i'd do anything for her, so it's... difficult to make the right decision on who's allowed into our lifes."

"your date sounds like a very special lady to be allowed such a privilege." mr kim sat on the edge of the sofa, the distance between you feeling almost too much to bare. he nodded along to your words, keeping his eyes trained on your face. were he any other man you'd try to escape his look, but you found yourself transfixed by him - unable to move even one muscle.

"that's exactly my dilemma", he frowned, arm stretching out across the back of the sofa, hand suspiciously close to the back of your head. "i already have someone to take care of my baby girl, and she does such a fantastic job too."

"that's- so kind of you to say, sir." his fingers brushed against your hair and you felt like you could die right then and there. you couldn't help but lean into his soft touch, a faint gasp escaping your lips. "i- i enjoy working here quite a lot! eunji's wonderful. such a quick learner too."

he hummed in response to your neediness, boldness shining through as he inched closer to you, until you felt the hear radiating off his body. "y'know...", he trailed off, voice raspier than just a moment ago. "all i kept thinking, while i sat there with this lovely lady was how i already have my two girls waiting for me at home."

you didn't feel like breathing anymore. "mr kim?"

"fuck-", his hand travelled from your hair to your cheeks, squeezing your lips together between his fingers in a swift motion. his face was so close now, you could make out every fine line on his handsome face, his breath ghosting across your skin. "you always look so pretty with my daughter in your arms. would make any man think."

his lips were so close to yours now, if you wanted to you could simply lean forward to connect yours with his, yet your remained still under him. "i've- i never wanted to assume intent, sir. i love... being around you and eunji."

"tell me you don't want this, sweetheart. tell me and i'll stop at once."

a whine. "i want you so fucking bad, sir."

the kiss was everything you could have hoped for. he tasted like way too expensive wine, feeling intoxicated just by the taste alone. his hands roamed your torso, trailing up and down your sides, groaning into your mouth. you felt electrified connected to him, static shock alerting your every nerve of his taste, his weight on you, his sounds.

"feel so good, sweetheart", he rasped as he grinded against your hips. "let daddy treat you well, yeah?"

the moan you left out at the nickname was involuntary, arching your back off the couch, you felt like a fucking mess. "oh fuck- daddy."

he laughed softly, toying with the top buttons of your blouse. "not mingyu but daddy?", his tongue swiped across his bottom lip. "wanna be a good girl for daddy? so needy for me, fuck."

one by one, he opened your blouse tantalizingly slow, teasing you every so often with a small kiss to the corners of your lips. all you could do was whine out your complaints, holding on to his shoulders, rubbing your palms against the soft material of his shirt. mingyu hissed at the sight of you in your bra, head dipping low to mouth at the top of your breasts.

pushing your chest out, against his face, you whined out a string of curses. your body felt too sensitive, every touch and every kiss setting you ablaze with want. you tried your best to look for any sort of friction, your panties already clinging to your wet cunt.

"shhh", he cooed, freeing your tits out of their confines. "don't wanna wake up our girl, right mommy?"

your eyes widened, head snapping up to meet his dark gaze. even through your hazy mind, you could feel your heartbeat quickening at his words. he met your expression with a smirk. "would you like that, honey? give eunji a sibling? become a mommy yourself?"

your response was immediate, your lips crashing into his once with newfound need, fingers finding purchase in his greying locks. pushing against him, he landed on his back, lying there with awe in his eyes as you climbed right on top of him. the feeling of his hard on in his trousers overwhelming you as you ground your hips against him in a rocking motion. the friction against your clit, letting you moan out in desperate pleasure.

his hands landed on your hips, your skirt all bunched up, revealing your thighs to him. guiding you into a steady rhythm, he couldn't help but gently thrust up into you. he grit his teeth, hissing at a particular pointed angle. "let me stretch you out first."

"n- no, wanna feel you now, daddy", you responded, hands on his pecs. "don't care if it hurts."

"there's no 'if' in this, baby", he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. "are you sure?"

frantically, you nodded your head 'yes', hips still slowly circling against him, addicted to the pleasure shooting through you. mingyu softly pushed against you, hands making quick work of his zipper. with a sharp hiss, his cock jumped free, your mouth watering at the sight alone.

he was fucking huge - without a doubt the biggest you ever had so far. his tip already glistening with precum, you reached out with trembling hands, thumb swiping across his leaking slit. "shit", mingyu groaned out, trying his damnedest to keep his hips from bucking up. your fingertips trailed along his greying happytrail, relishing in the subdued noises he couldn't keep quite in.

shifting in his lap, you pushed your panties to the side, shuddering at the feeling of cold air hitting your cunt. "gorgeous", he said, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. "and already so wet for daddy?"

"yeah, all f- for daddy." you let yourself slide up and down his length, coating him with your wetness, before aligning the tip with your pulsating cunt. his eyes met yours for a brief second, the hunger in them almost consuming you whole. without any prior warning, he finally rocked up into you.

not even halfway in, you already felt stuffed, tears forming in your eyes as you worked to accommodate his sheer girth. the stretch was deliciously painful, nails digging into the back of his hands.

mingyu did his best to soothe you, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "'m so sorry, baby. i know it's too big", he cooed. "you need a- fuck- you need a second?"

as stubborn as ever, you shook your head with a pout on your lips, sinking further down on him. "hurt so good."

"yeah?", he half moaned, half hummed. "you like getting your cunt stretched out by just a- anyone? or is daddy special?"

once fully inside, you felt yourself clench around him, wetness dripping down his balls. the squelch of you moving up his cock sounded almost pornographic to your ears, the added stimulation of his fingers on your clit, forcing soft moans out of you. "no, just f- for you!"

even though the pace was agonizingly slow, you couldn't trust yourself to move any faster, thighs already trembling from the pleasure coiling in your stomach. though mingyu's resolve seemed to run slim, as he pushed himself off the cushions, pressing his chest against yours. the material of his shirt rubbing against your nipples as he thrust into you again and again, new pace making you head spin.

"oh fuck", you mewled, face buried in the crook of his neck. mingyu showed no mercy on you, his motions swift and smooth, fingers still expertly on your clit, working you towards your orgasm. everything felt like too much and yet not nearly enough. your mind was empty, fully succumbing to the heat in your stomach.

"you gonna cum f'me? let me fucking fill you up?", he grunt out his question.

with a shaky nod, you squealed into his shirt. "yes, fuck! please, sir-"

"oh fuck." and with a loud smack against your ass, you finally burst, vision turning white. you felt his pace stutter at your orgasm, chanting his name like a prayer. and all through that, mingyu kept his pace, fucking you through it like his life depended on it.

as soon as you felt your body go limp from exhaustion, he hoisted you up from his lap, laying you on your back, before he started drilling into you once again. with no more regard to your pleasure, he moved almost animalistic, panting right next to your ear. there was something insanely hot about the way he chased after his own release, using your body however he saw fit.

you let out a whine. "need your cum in me, daddy. fillin' me up to make me a m- mommy."

his hips stuttered at that, pressing kisses to your neck as a reward. "you want my cum?" and with one last thrust he stilled inside you, pumping you full. "then fucking take it."

if you'd felt full before, this was nothing compared to it, ropes of cum flooding your cunt and spilling out of you. you vaguely thought about the promise of pregnancy that mingyu mentioned, a soft smile gracing your lips as you pressed a soft kiss on to his temple.

his hands felt heaven sent as he smoothed over the skin of your thighs, feeling content with the silence between you two. when he finally lifted his head to look at you, there was a glint shining in his eyes that wasn't quite there before - and for a moment, you imagined what he might have looked like at your age. "hi."

you snorted. "hi yourself."

"this was amazing", he leaned to kiss you, careful as not to crush you with his weight. "i meant what i said, sweetheart. i don't want anyone else but you - if you'll have me."

the question seemed almost ridiculous as you grinned against his lips. "you're silly to think i wouldn't."

"hmm", he sighed. "all mine now."

#mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

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rayne-astrophile · 2 months

Text

Special oneshot before Valentine's Day ends :D

Buttons - Rayne Ames x F!Reader

Notes - inspired by a comic I read when i was a child where japanese students give their shirt's button (the one in the same level as their heart) to their crush because it kind of means they give their heart to them!

- highschool!au & ooc rayne

You have a crush on Rayne Ames even before he becomes the Student Council's president. He might not remember you, but he had helped you with your homework when you first attended Easton.

Since then, you fell in love with him.

And today is Valentine's day. Students start to give their shirt's button to their crushes.

You grip yours in your hand. You want to give it to Rayne, but you're still considering it. What if he doesn't accept it? What if he doesn't like you? What if he doesn't remember you at all?

But you have promised yourself to confess your feelings for him today, on Valentine's day. It doesn't matter if he rejects you, you just want him to acknowledge your feelings.

In the end, you come to a conclusion to give him your shirt's button.

It is lunch break when you try to find Rayne. You look around the school, and finally you catch a glimpse of half blonde and half raven hair behind the class building.

Your eyes lit up as you take a step forward, but-

"Please take my button," You widen your eyes when a girl's voice reaches your ears. You immediately hide yourself at the other side of the building as you listen to the girl's confession for Rayne.

Your heart aches in pain, as the possibilities of him accepting the girl's confession still exists. You peek silently from the other side.

That girl is the student council's vice president, Judy. She is the beauty of the school, and she didn't get that title for nothing. Her blonde hair and her ocean eyes... she's just perfect. She also performs well in academics, adding to her popularity.

You're doing well with your academics, too, but you're more low key. You always hate attention.

Despite both of them being the dream partner, the students can't help but ship them. "Perfection is for perfection", they say.

That makes you ponder,

What if Rayne accepts her? Do you have no chance at all? Does he---

"I appreciate your feelings for me," Rayne's smooth voice cuts you off from your train of thoughts. "But I can't accept it. I'm sorry," he apologises as Judy slowly retreats her button. "It's fine, Rayne." She smiles as she puts her button into her pocket. "I just want to get over this feeling and focus on studying." She runs a hand through her hair.

Judy lets out a sigh as she looks at Rayne. "So, who's the lucky one? I see you already took off your button." She asks in interest.

Her sentence makes your heart shatter into pieces. You lower your head and your feet finally take you away from the scene as you put your button into your pocket.

Rayne stays silent as he looks to the side; at your previous hiding spot.

"I'm going to give it to her now."

You enter the empty class, while the other students are busy giving their buttons to their crushes. Everyone is laughing and smiling, while you're alone, doing your own things.

It is not long after that you hear the door of the classroom being pushed open.

What you do not expect is your crush walking in.

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet his golden ones, which you immediately look away. Even so, you can see him entering the class from the corner of your eyes.

"Why are you here? Don't you want to give your button to your crush?"

You raise your head to look at him as he is already (surprisingly) in front of you. You look around the class before pointing to yourself, "You're asking me?"

Rayne visibly frowns. "Who else would I be talking to if it's not you? Do you see anyone else in this class, (Last name)?"

You gape your mouth, "Y-You know me?" You ask in disbelief. His frown darkens as he furrows his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" He mutters. "We've been classmates since our first year."

You look away timidly as you brush a strand of your hair to the back of your ear, only for it to fall back. "I didn't think you'd remember me," you whisper softly, which is audible to him.

"And why'd you think that?"

Is he always this talkative? You are already screaming on the inside.

"I..." you trail your eyes away from him. "Have... have you given your button to your crush?"

His frown is even more visible when you change the topic. He lets out a sigh, but he wants to get over it anyway.

"I was going to give it to her," he murmurs. "Do you think she'll accept it?" His question makes you confused. Why would he want your opinion?

"Of course she will. You're everyone's crush, you know?" You mumble, your voice is barely above a whisper.

But he still can hear it.

"Is that so?" He asks, and you can barely see the corners of his lips lift up as he reaches out his fist to you. "Then, you'll accept this, right?"

He opens his fist, revealing a button in his palm. Your eyes widen as you look at him in disbelief.

"W-What?"

Rayne trails his eyes away from you. "It's okay if you don't want to. I see you, too, have taken off your button." He lowers his hand, only for you to take it into yours.

"N-No! I..." you stutter as you take out your own button from your pocket. Hesitantly, you put the small object on his palm. "You can take mine. I-I can't possibly take yours,"

Rayne stares at the two buttons on his palm before locking his eyes with yours. "Why not?" You lower your head as you fiddle your hands on your lap. "I-I just can't believe it. You can't possibly have feelings for someone like me-"

"Let me prove it to you, then."

You flinch when his warm hand cups your cheek and lifts your head up to face him. Before you knew it, his soft lips pressed against yours, taking your breath away.

He moves his lips with a gentle, delicate movement as his other hand rests on your nape, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You find yourself lost in his kiss as you grip the hem of your skirt, your cheeks burning and your heart beating faster than ever.

Seconds feel like eternity for you until Rayne finally pulls away. His tongue runs on his lower lip as his golden eyes stare into yours.

"Is that enough?" He asks breathlessly, his own cheeks heating up as you are already as red as a beautiful rose. "I-I..." you stutter, struggling to arrange your words.

"It's still not enough, I see."

You gasp, "Wait-"

Before you can finish your sentence, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands move from your nape to your waist, pulling you closer, earning a gasp from you, and he takes advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes every inch of your mouth as he turns your bodies around so that your back is against the desk. His hand on your waist moves onto your desk, trapping you as he kisses you passionately.

After what seems like forever, he finally pulls away. He looks over to the door before looking back at you. "Seems like the other students are still not coming back," he hums. "I've been waiting to do this since our first year," he mutters, his thumb brushes against your lower lip. His eyes stare into yours as he leans in, hungry for more.

The moment the sentence escapes his lips, you figure, that him, too, has fallen ever since your first encounter.

BYE

#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #magic and muscles

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harryslittlefreakk · 21 days

Text

a corner of the heath

late night talking series extra!

summary: y/n and harry’s first ‘official’ date following his wembley shows

warnings: fluff, smut (unprotected public sex & foreplay)

wordcount: 2k

a/n: i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long but here it is! i have two more extras planned for LNT and then we’re done <3 i can’t believe all the love on this series thank you all SO much for continuing to read and enjoy it

you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here! 🫶🏼 happy reading

“Come on, come on, come on!” You’d been trying to get through to Joanie’s phone for at least five minutes now. She had the perfect dress for you to wear, and all you had were concert outfits stained from cheap feather boas.

“Hello? Are you okay?” Joanie’s voice suddenly sounded from the other end of the phone.

“No, I’m not okay! I have a date and I need your white dress. Please please please with a cherry on top,” you babbled, setting your phone down on the counter top. “God I look like death,” you groaned, wiping your hands down your face.

“A date with Harry?!” Joanie squealed.

“Yeeeees and I might not get another one without your dress.”

“Do you want me to bring it to you? Do you need makeup? Hair stuff? Oh please let me stay while you get ready.”

“Yes for bringing it to me please, no for the other stuff, a million times yes for staying,” you laughed, Joanie’s infectious excitement starting to rub off on you. Truthfully, you dreaded the day that you stopped being nervous to see Harry. Just hearing his name gave you a rush of anxious butterflies, your heart rate quickening at the mere thought of him. It had sent you into a week-long spin, but it was a rollercoaster you never wanted to stop riding.

—

“You look so beautiful,” Joanie cooed, smoothing out the skirt of your white minidress. “Stop, you’re like my mum,” you laughed, swatting her hands away.

“Let me come with you,” she pleaded, holding up her hands in prayer. “No.”

“Please please please! It’s on my way home. I don’t even have to be with you. I’ll just look from afar and then I’ll go,” Joanie continued, a hopeful grin plastered on her face.

“He does want to meet you,” you smiled. “Fine. You can say hello and then you’re leaving - and don’t be weird. Please don’t be weird.” You held out your little finger for a pinky promise. Joanie hooked hers around yours, throwing her arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

—

“Hi, little darling,” Harry smiled when he saw you approaching, a picnic basket hanging from one of his hands. He looked delicious, a white t-shirt and linen slacks loose on his toned body. He wrapped you in a tight hug, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You look incredible,” he whispered against your skin.

When what sounded like an excited mouse squeaked from behind you, he pried his eyes from your figure to peer at your tag along. “You must be the famous Joanie,” Harry grinned, throwing an arm around her. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Joanie was bouncing on her heels silently, her grin so big it threatened to split her face in two. She started nodding like a bobble head, finally bringing herself to say hello. You shook your head, laughing as you grabbed her hand. “I’ll speak to you later, okay? Get home safe. Say hi to Tom from me.” She was still nodding and grinning as she walked away, waving mindlessly to you and Harry as you giggled.

“You are a vision,” you told Harry as you turned to him, taking his hand in yours. Harry's eyes sparkled with warmth as he gazed at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "And you are a dream," he replied, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. The sun was shining, casting a golden glow around the two of you as you stood in the park, surrounded by the sounds of nature and the distant hum of city life.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of champagne, pulling out the cork with a satisfying pop. He poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses, handing one to you with a wink. "To our first date," he grinned, raising his glass in a toast.

You clinked your glass against his, the sweet taste of champagne dancing on your tongue. As you settled down on the picnic blanket, he held a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer to him. “Y’so beautiful, can’t get over it,” he cooed, planting 6 lingering kisses to your lips. “One for every day,” he whispered against your smile.

“Sorry about Joanie,” you cringed, screwing up your face as you thought back to her reaction to meeting him. “She’s cute,” he laughed. “I can see why you get along.”

“What do you mean? I’m way cooler than she is. Didn’t even bat an eye when I met you,” you teased.

“That’s what you think,” Harry chuckled, pulling you back into his body until your back rested against your chest. “I saw your jaw go when you clocked me.”

“Oh yeah? That’s why you took me home. Stroked your ego,” you smirked, staring out across the park.

“Oh yes. Exactly that. It’s so rare that I get to meet anyone who knows who I am.” Harry poked at your cheek playfully, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence, stray giggles escaping every few minutes.

“Do you not think it’s insane?” you asked Harry after a while, tilting your head back to look up at him. “What?”

“If neither of us had gone to that Starbucks, or even at different times, or you never needed that napkin, we’d never have met.”

Harry laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “I never needed a napkin. Jus’ wanted to talk to you,” he confessed, a coy smirk playing on his lips. You gasped, mouth falling open as you swatted at his leg. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Couldn’t think of anything else to say,” Harry told you, his fingertips drawing patterns on your inner thigh. You leaned further back into him, a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as something buzzed inside of you. The Harry Styles, your ultimate celeb crush, had pondered over what to say to you. And now you were sitting here on your first date after a week of incredible sex and cuddles with him. If someone had come back from the future and told you all this, you’d have laughed them out the room. But it was true, it was real.

“What you thinking about?” Harry asked, his voice soft. “You,” you grinned. “Just so crazy, all of this.”

“Mhmm, I‘m crazy about you.” His fingers were trailing further up your dress, still tracing mindless patterns as he got closer to your centre. You uncrossed your legs slightly, breath catching in your throat at the thought of Harry touching you here, where anyone could see you. If it wasn’t for the wine and the high that came from his presence, you’d have clamped your legs shut and refused him entry. You’d made a silent promise to yourself to try not to sleep with Harry and treat your first date like it was the first time you’d met him. But he just did something to you, and you couldn’t resist catering to his every need.

“Gonna let daddy show you how crazy he is about you?” Harry asked, his voice suddenly low and husky.

You pulled the spare blanket he’d bought over your legs to maintain at least some decency as he pulled your panties to the side, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. Harry always navigated your body as if he’d known it in a previous life, as if it were the only body he’d ever touched. He knew your wants and needs even before you realised them, always one step ahead of you.

He pulled you back into him, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck. His fingers worked into you, the angle pushing his palm against your sensitive clit. You were writhing under his touch, soft pants slipping past your lips. “Got to be quiet, angel,” Harry whispered against your skin, nipping at your neck. His fingers fucked into you faster, one hand wrapping around your throat to quiet you as heat spreads throughout your body. “Baby,” you whimpered softly, your hand clenching around his wrist as it moved against your pussy, the friction against your clit almost too much to take. It was warm under the afternoon sun, but the heat spreading between your legs was almost enough to burn you alive. Beads of sweat formed on your chest, your skin becoming sticky in Harry’s grip, as you tried desperately to keep your moans in.

“Want more, Harry,” you moaned, pulling his hand away. The way he could fuck you was both a blessing and a curse. His hands and mouth worked wonders, but his cock had you shaking and coming around him in minutes. If you had to choose between the two, you’d choose his cock all day long. Harry chuckled, watching as you turned around and straddled his thighs. He pressed his two glistening fingers to your lips, silently urging you to have a taste of your juices. You sucked them into your mouth, a tiny moan vibrating in your throat as your tongue licked him clean.

“Got to stay quiet now, okay kitten?” he warned, fiddling with the button on his slacks. You nodded, fluffing out the skirt of your dress as he lined himself up with your entrance, his rock hard tip already angry and red. Sex had never been a huge thing for you in relationships, and you’d certainly never been fucked as often as you had in the last week. But it was like being on a different planet with Harry, like you existed in a different reality with your needs and desires laid out before you. He was as hungry for you as you were for him, lust and yearning held in his gaze whenever he was around you.

Harry slipped into you easily, his girth no more at home than when it was nestled against your g-spot. He started guiding you with a firm hold on your hips, his mouth falling open every time you rolled against him. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. If anyone saw, they’d know what you were doing in seconds. But neither of you could bring yourself to care, not with the ecstasy of your bodies connected again.

His hips rutted as you locked eyes with him, your lashes fluttering as his groin rubbed against your clit. Spurred on by your choked moan, Harry held you a few inches over his cock, his finger tips digging in to the meat of your ass. He was drilling up into you, your head falling against his shoulder as you tried to hold yourself together a little while longer. “I’m not gonna last-” you panted, feeling the familiar burn spreading through your core.

“Come for me baby, let it all out,” Harry whispered into your ear. “Gonna do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you whined, hips rolling against his in desperation to reach your climax. But his movements ceased, his cock stilling inside of you as his hand came up to clutch at your throat.

“Yes what?” Harry asked, dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes daddy,” you panted, pawing at the collar of his shirt. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as his movements resumed, his cock drilling into you with a power he’d been holding back before.

Your clit was throbbing, entrance on fire as he pounded into you, driven by a purpose now. It took one final thrust to tip you over the edge, your mouth hanging open as you mewled into Harry’s tanned skin. “Fuck, kitten,” he panted, cock twitching at your core as your walls constricted, milking him for all he had. His come was like a comfort to you at this point, a feeling you were so used to and so in love with.

You sat up on your knees and waited to him to make himself decent, cringing as your soaked panties slipped back across your entrance. When you heard his flies zip back up, you stepped off him, throwing yourself down flat onto the blanket, chest still heaving.

Harry mirrored you, his fingers finding yours as his eyes wandered over to your face. “M’gonna say it over and over - y’are completely and utterly perfect.”

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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llondonfog · 7 months

Note

Wailing about “you love me so you’ll love my child” but w melleanor and silver

"—and do not let Vanrouge within twenty meters of the kitchens, is that clear, Counselor? Inform the kitchen staff that they have my exact permission to maim him on sight with the nearest sharp object. Oh, do not duck your face like a quivering kitten as if I cannot see that grimace, Counselor— that man has survived much worse and scraped through with life and limb and still persists to terrorize us all with his presence, isn't that right, my dear one?"

From within her arms, Lilia's child coos and babbles something far more intelligent than her trailing, fretful advisors back at her, and she taps a dark painted talon delicately against its plush cheek in fond agreement.

Lilia's child.

Meleanor rolls the words silently within her mouth, holds them there to taste the strange, but pleasant, flavor of their meaning.

Of all the fae in all their lands, who would have ever dared to dream that Lilia Vanrouge would take to a child like a fish to water, or a fledgling to the skies?

She can still hear him now, grumbling and griping so about the burden of children, their helplessness and neediness as unnecessarily weak creatures. In a rare form of mercy, not once did she pry— for how could she, when she knew the answer even if it was not in specifics? When fae were perishing at the hands of humankind's avaricious cruelty, how could she dare chastise him when she was so certain that Lilia's bitterness only existed towards himself?

Her hypothesis had been proven correct when her most trusted General had been present for Malleus' hatching, a softness that she had only seen once before smoothing the harsh lines of his battle-weary gaze. Perhaps she had the right of bias; it was only correct that anyone melt at the sight of her darling son, chirping and mewling miniature fonts of emerald flame.

But that softness had reappeared tenfold when Lilia had knelt before her in the privacy of her chambers where no other fae save for two were ever allowed, revealing the swaddled contents of his cloak with a desperate, fervent need for approval.

He woke for me, she remembers her oldest friend confessing in a voice choked with awe and an emotion that had nearly frightened her (her!) with its intensity. Meleanor, do you understand what this means? He is the son of our enemy, lost and forgotten by time, and he woke for me.

Oh, she had understood as perfectly then as she does now. It was for that reason alone that she had stayed her hand from where it had been readied to smite the child from Lilia's arms, to strip it from existence out of fear that it had somehow bewitched the one fae with more reason to detest humanity than all the rest.

True love was so rare in this world; it had taken her centuries to find her heart's desire. How could she wrest that from Lilia, as he kneels before her and bares his soul, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in his arms with a delicate strength she did not know him to possess and the dazed look of a parent struck with the dazzling knowledge that the child they hold is more perfect than any creature alive on the earth?

She could not— the proof of which rests in her arms and happily teethes on strands of her gleaming hair, warm and soft and heavy in the sweet way of babes.

"And that is why we cannot allow your pathetic wretch of a father to ruin the celebration of your first blessing, isn't that right— Silver?"

#lettie's asks #twst spoilers #anon the way this thought gripped me......#i didn't mean for it to be a drabble #but here we are :')#lettie writes #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #meleanor draconia #twst meleanor #twst chapter 7

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al1fers-haven · 30 days

Text

I KNOW YOU

Part one - Part two (You're here!) Alastor wrapped his arms around you, his smile twitching slightly as he squeezed you as tight as he could. His eyes closed as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Hands gripping the fabric of your dress as you gently cried in his grasp. So happy to see him again. "Oh!" Alastor picked you up and twirled your around a bit, your laughter filling up the room as you cupped his face.

He had spent so many days in his radio tower waiting to wake up to your lovely voice, hoping that this was all some sort of sick and twisted dream. Ready to wake up from it and look over to see your sleeping body. Or your voice calling him out for breakfast. Spent so many sleepless nights hearing your voice on repeat on his radio. And now, he could hear it again. "My love, you remembered!" You sniffled, kissing his cheek, and then his forehead, and then his other cheek. "Oh how could I ever forget you Puddin!" He laughed a little, putting you down and just leaning into the warmth of your hand. "You're as handsome as the day i lost you..." His eyes snapped open, staring at you as you just smiled at him. Tears quickly welled up in your eyes again as he looked at you as if you were an angel fallen from heaven

Oh wait, you were. "How- how did you even?" You wiped your face, still smiling as you grabbed his hands. "They found out somethings i did...it was a complete fluke that it happened. But once you get to heaven you don't remember any of those parts, so when they put me to trial...they thought i lied." He nodded slowly, not understanding. "--but you were practically perfect...you once cried because i refused to give a child back it's lollipop it dropped!" You laughed loudly, holding a hand over your mouth. "Oh Alastor, i was far from perfect...it's just that being around you made me perfect. I did my fair share of bad deeds darlin." He sighed, pulling you into another hug and not letting go of you, actually refusing to as you asked repeatedly. His lips peppered your whole face as you laughed and tried to push him off.

"Let go of her!" Husk slammed the door open, gun in hand as he stared at the scene. His eyes widening as he dropped his gun at the intimate situation he interrupted. "What...did you do?" Alastor's ears pinned to the back of his head as he pulled away. "Oh husk! I'm his-" '

"YOU'RE HIS WHAT!?" Angel, husk, cherri, and charlie yelled. Lucifer just blinking wildly at the both of you as you sat down across from them, face red as you sat next to alastor. "I'm his wife! Or I was...we said til death do us part- does that mean we aren't?" Alastor shook his head no, chuckling. "No I never really believed in those vows dear." You hummed, nodding with a smile. "How- how did this even happen! How did you bag a broad like her smiles?" Alastors ears twitched a little and you patted his leg. "Are you... okay?" The young man leaned down, looking at the woman with a small frown, trying to attempt to wrap his head around what he was seeing. The woman just stared at him, a forced smile fading onto her face as she cried. "Oh- oh no Puddin, I'm fine...Just a small mishap in the kitchen." He helped you up, wiping the tears that were falling from your face before looking around. "Who did this?" You gently pushed away from the man, frowning as he asked that. "I don't even know you, why would i tell someone i don't know?" Alastor frowned even more, heart squeezing at how scared you got. "I- I can help you, me and my mother. We help women like this all of the time-" You sniffled, grabbing your grocery bag and straightening your posture. "I'm sorry sir-" "Alastor, my names Alastor." You blinked at him, squinting a little bit and putting the bags down on the little seat again. "You're the fella Mimzy keeps talking bout, bachelor boy?" He chuckled, nodding a bit. "Yes, i believe that's a name i go by..." You giggled, holding your hands in front of your dress. "Y/n- It's a pleasure to meet you Alastor."

Your expression quickly turned sad, looking at the ground and away from him. "You....you said you can help? How do you even know my situation just by looking at me?" Alastor wrung his hands, attempting to make sense of what he was about to say. "I seem to have an eye for these types of things ma'am...is it-" "My father, not husband. " You nodded carefully, his eyes narrowing in on the bruise around your neck and wrist. "Oh.." "I'm only 18...and I've yet to wed- so my parents are making me help them out around the house while I work enough to get a flat.." Alastor nodded, pulling on his collar. "Then- let me help you. I can get you out of there y/n-" You shook your head, pushing a finger to his lips. "My father is a very smart man.. i wouldn't be able to-" "I will, I can outsmart him. Ma'am, I cannot sit around and see you in this position.." You looked at him, eyes softening at the pleading man next to you. "Would you like to go get some tea, Alastor?" His eyes sparkled a bit, quickly nodding.

"Alastor here helped me out of a truly horrible situation when I was 18..." You looked towards him with a sweet smile, making his heart squeeze as he looked at it once more. "My father was an abusive drunk, he and his buddies were quite the group..." Angeldust flinched a bit, sounding all to familiar to him. "My mother was horribly sick, so i stayed for her since i wasn't wedded quite yet...one day after a particularly harsh couple of hits from father, i ran into alastor." Everyone was on the edge of their seats, watching as the red haired male just stared at you. "He begged and begged for me to listen to him, said he could get me out of the situation....after a couple minutes of listening and talking. I finally agreed to hear him out and he took me to a little tea shop down in new orleans. Oh it was wonderful!" You clapped your hands together, smiling as you looked to charlie. "That's....an interesting choice to outsmart your father. Y/n" The darker-skinned boy blushed a bit, looking towards you with a flattered look. "it doesn't have to happen outside of what I'm asking you- my father wishes for me to stay until I am wedded, or close to being wedded. .. The only way to effectively get me out is to.." "Pretend- You want me to pretend to court you?" He tilted his head a bit, confused about why you would ask him of such a thing. "I know it's weird but it's all I can think of at this moment... we don't have to do it if it's not something in your area." Alastor puffed out his chest a bit, taking in a deep breath. "I'll do it-" You looked at him for a second before he continued. "Just...it'll have to be fake on both sides. Meaning that i won't tell my mother it's fake...she's been on my ass recently about finding a woman? I'm sure this is a good moment to...help that?" You nodded, giggling at his explanation and listening to a deep breath leave his frame.

"He was so worried about me and my health, oh it was sweet..." You pinched his cheek a little bit. husk watching in bewilderment. "So we pretended, and pretended. Took so long for him to gain my fathers trust. After awhile tho it wasn't so fake." Alastor stared at you, laughing a bit as you twirled around in the rain, taking off your shoes before going into the street and opening your arms. Breathing in the fresh air. "Y/n! You're going to get sick mon cher!" You looked over and waved your hand dismissively, a loud laugh leaving you as you ran over and pulled him into the rain as well, managing to pull him into the street with ease. "Now I'm soaked!" You smiled at him and bowed, looking at Alastor who was smirking at you. Laughing as he took your hand and twirled you.

Laughter filled the streets as the two of you danced, a couple of men and women watching with smiles as you two had fun. His hand is either always on your hand or on your middle back. Dancing with you like he was taught to. Politely. The two of you stood there in the rain for a moment, laughing and catching your breath as the rain fell around you. So many different emotions filled your mind as you stared at the man in front of you. His hands quickly pulled away from your hips as he cleared his throat. "Your father is going to kill me- we should get home-" You shook your head and cupped his face, kissing him like there was no one watching.

Alastors arms soon found their way around your waist, pulling you in as you deepen the kiss. Smiles on both of your faces.

"Sooner or later we did end up getting married, whether that was the plan or not. And only a week later my father fell to the hands of the Bayou butcher. A murderous man who lives in me and Alastors neighborhood. Or in better words, Alastor had killed my father. And plenty of other men who abused women and children in our town." Charlie smiled, a bright smile on her face at hearing that he did have reasoning for being here. "You knew?" Alastors static cracked a little bit, a guilt smile now on your face. "Oh honey I knew they weren't all hunting trips..." He nodded carefully. Squinting at you.

"ma'am...? Are you Mrs.Altruis?" You opened the door for the detective. Frowning gently. "Yes? Is something the matter dear?" He chuckled and shook his head, taking off his had. "May I come in?" You poured the man a tea, sighing slightly as he waited patiently for you to stop. "I'm here today to ask where your husband was last Thursday...we have reason to suspect he may have killed a man...and that he might be the Bayou butcher." Your eyes widened a little bit, your heartbeat picking up as you stood up. Covering your mouth. "I-" "Miss, please just go calm down so we can continue this conversation..." You nodded, running to your kitchen and looking around for anything. You took the knife into your hands and looked toward the living room, quietly making your way there as you stopped behind him. "ma'am?"

You panicked, you didn't know what to do. What if they had figured out your husband? They were going to take him- take a man who was just helping out the women and children of this world- You stared down at the couch, scrubbing out the red stains quickly as you kept thinking. "Love?" Your head snapped over to the door, eyes wide as Alastor looked at you with a worried expression. "Are you alright?" "Yes, dear. I'm fine...just spilled some wine it all."

"That's why I'm here!" Alastor stared at you a little bit, eyes practically hearts as everyone looked at you with their mouths wide open. "Oh, it was such a thrill! Doing it on the couch was the only thing I regret!" You giggled. Yeah, they can see why you two were so perfect for each other now.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #soft alastor #angeldust #charlie morningstar

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phoxey · 2 months

Text

French toast

Bada Lee x fem!reader

CW: none :3 this is pure fluff

AN: sorry for the long absence, and sorry that this is so short, but i promised a comeback, I am still struggling to write, but it's better than nothing.

I love writing, but like in any relationships there are ups and downs. and in such down phases love is hard work. But it's worth it in the end.

Valentines Day was approaching, and this would be the first time, that you wouldn’t spend the day with Bada. You two have been a couple for a few years now and she would always make Valentines Day special. This year Bada happened to be in a dance workshop on the other side of the world for a few weeks, missing Valentines Day. You tried to talk to her every day, but time zones were against you. When she was going to bed, you were waking up, and when you were going to bed, she was waking up. You only had a small timeframe for talking, and her schedule was tight. She thought you wouldn’t notice, but she woke up earlier and stayed up late just to talk to you. You wanted to scold her for it, but on the other hand you were also grateful for every minute you got with her.

You woke up to several messages from Bada, which she sent, when she knew it was midnight in Korea. It was some silly memes, asking you out to be her valentine, but with them came a long voice message.

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope you had the most wonderful sleep and the sweetest dreams. Maybe you even dreamt of us? I know, I always do. Especially when we are apart like this. I dream of holding you in my arms, your head on my chest, while we watch our favorite shows. It’s cheesy, I know. I really can’t wait for this moment to come. I will probably be at work when you listen to this. And everything I am about to say, I could have also written in a letter, but I wanted to say those things directly, so you can hear the sincerity in my voice. I want to tell you, how I feel. I am so very madly in love with you, it drives me crazy to not be with you for every minute of the day. Every day my love for you grows. How that is possible? I don’t know. Every day I seem to invent a new kind of infinity. I have been looking at your pictures a lot more these past few days, and since day one your beauty keeps striking me over and over again. I know you still can’t see what I see, but I swear to me you are the most beautiful woman on earth. I wish I could kiss every spot you are insecure about and make that feeling go away. I love all of you. You are truly beautiful inside and out. You are just perfect for me. To have such a kind, hardworking and understanding woman in my life, and to be able to call you mine, is truly the greatest blessing I have ever received. I love you.”

From the first word on, tears shot into your eyes. You were too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. Just as you were trying to formulate a good answer, the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked to the apartment door and opened it. A giant bouquet of your favorite flowers stood in a vase on the ground. It was arranged in the form of a heart. You had to chuckle, this was so cheesy, but that was what you loved about your girlfriend. She always did and say cheesy things, but somehow it was never cringe.

“I see I am arriving in time.”, a familiar voice said.

You looked to the side and saw Lusher and Tatter walking up to your door, both of the carrying a suspicious number of bags.

“Good morning!”, you smiled. “What are you two doing here?”

Lusher and Tatter were grinning at each other for a moment. “We are playing Cupid.”, Tatter answered.

Inside, you put the bouquet on the dining table, as the girls sat down in the living room. You joined them after a moment, bringing them coffee.

You eyed the bags; your heart was racing.

“So!”, Lusher began, and Tatter got her phone out, to begin filming. “Your special someone instructed us to give you your Valentines Day presents. She is very sorry that she can’t be with you right now, but she still wants to make sure you are being spoiled on this special day. Like you deserve.”

You opened the first bag, inside was a shoebox. You recognized immediately what kind of shoes they were. The Nike Jordan 1s you had been wanting for a while now. You took them out to look at them. Suddenly something fell out of them. It was a polaroid photo. It was a mirror selfie of Bada pointing at her feet. She was wearing the same shoes.

The second bag was bigger but softer. Slowly you pulled out, what was inside. It was two pieces of clothing. Firstly, it was one of Badas pants, you always stole, when she made the mistake of wearing them to your apartment. The second item was one of her oversized hoodies. It even smelled like her parfum.

Speaking of it, the last bag was a little smaller. Inside were two things. One you recognized as your favorite parfum, which Bada also loved on you. Whenever you wore it, she stayed at your side, not leaving you for longer than one minute. But there was also a second parfum bottle. You sprayed it on your wrist and immediately the smell of Bada filled your nose. It was her parfum. Smelling it almost made you tear up. You missed her so much. Maybe spraying this onto her hoodie and your pillow would ease the pain of her not being with you finally.

With each present your smile got bigger and your giggles more frequent. Tatter smiled just as wide as she filmed your reaction.

“Do you like it?”

You spun around and there she was. Her tall frame leaning against the wall with her shoulder. Hands in her pockets. She wore her finest dress shirt and tie. She looked so beautiful. Tears welled up in your eyes as you ran into her arms.

“Happy Valentines Day, baby.”, she whispered and kissed on top of your head, as you buried your face in her neck, sobbing.

“I thought you couldn’t come for another week.”, you muttered against the skin of her neck, placing delicate kisses onto her pulse.

“I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think I can spend Valentines Day without my forever Valentine?”

Bada mouthed a thank you to the two other girls, who just winked at her and left the apartment, grinning.

“We have so much to talk about! I have so much tea for you! And you have to tell me all about your trip and your workshop!”, you said excitedly.

Bada smiled fondly at you and laced your fingers. Tenderly, she pressed her lips to your knuckles.

“Sounds good. How about we talk, while I make some French toast?”

#bada lee #bada lee swf #bada lee x reader #swf #swf2 #team bebe

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ganyuskiss · 8 months

Text

'five senses of them' (sight taste smell touch sound)

♡ kokomi, miko, sara, ayaka, yoimiya. cw fem reader, men and fetishizers dni

this is my first smut & not proofed so pls be nice :)c

kokomi is always gorgeous, but she seems the most beautiful when you have two fingers buried inside her, hands clutching the bedsheets as her long eyelashes flutter. face flushed red, breath coming quick and shallow; every time you curl your fingers, her back arches and her lips part silently.

the only sound she can get out is heaving breaths, she looks so perfect even in this state that you had to be impressed, long, silken hair tangled and legs spread just for you. you want to knot your hand into that hair and pull -- just a bit, just to see her reaction, when everything she does is so elegant and graceful, this is like a dream come true.

you consider wiping away the tears leaking from her eyes as you go faster and faster, pumping in and out of her without any mercy or hesitation, so she can see you properly. you want her to see the person who's turned her from a dignified priestess into a slut for your fingers.

"ah -- ah, i'm almost -- " she manages to get out as you increase the speed, unable to speak and simply drawing in air, thrusting her hips upwards into your hand with the little strength she has left. she's almost there, just a little bit longer and you're more than happy to get her there.

her thighs twitch and her pretty pink lips open in a silent scream, her whole body trembling. as she collapses into your waiting arms, you press a kiss to her forehead, feeling her fluids gush over your hand as you pull out.

"mm... " she mumbles, exhausted after chasing her high for so long, tears rolling down her cheeks. you think to yourself, she looks even prettier than usual with cum leaking from between her thighs, eyes blinking tiredly. "haah... you... "

kokomi, who always kept up appearances no matter what, reduced to a sobbing mess in your bed. all you can do is laugh, swirling your fingers into your mouth, enjoying the taste and then pulling them out with a pop.

"yes, just like that baby," miko sighs, leaning back against the headboard as you suck at her wet cunt. she shakes her bangs out of her eyes and presses her palm against your hair, ready to push your head further between her thighs if needed.

you roll the bud of her clit between your teeth and even if you couldn't hear her delighted sigh, chest heaving, you can feel her physical reaction to it, the liquids pooling faster underneath your tongue, a natural lubricant for your drooling mouth that doesn't even need it.

she reaches up and tugs the fabric of her shirt down, playing with one of her nipples, and swipes her tongue over the top of her mouth. you smile, still buried in her thighs, and nip at her and she bites down so hard on her cheek to stifle a moan that she tastes blood, coppery and metallic.

"my my, i never thought you could -- mmf!" her sly, teasing words are cut off as you circle her opening with the tip of your tongue, pressing her lips together to silence herself. you make it your personal goal to get her to voice her pleasure by the time this is over.

her heavy breaths quicken as you swirl your tongue faster, taking in every inch of her soft folds, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the ceiling. her cunt is so addictive and you never want to stop tasting it, oh god you could drink yourself to death on it. and you need her to know, working so hard to please her so you get it all to yourself.

"yes yes yes," she gasps, bucking her hips up into your waiting lips. "oh, darling, you -- yes oh archons yes -- " and her wetness spills from her, it pools into your eager mouth as she reaches her orgasm, clutching your hair between her tightening fingers.

the taste is delicious, a mix of sweetness and saltiness that you can't get enough of, pressing your tongue against her slit to lap it all up like a cat with milk. you circle her opening, licking for every bit of it and she twitches slightly with every movement.

"a-ah, that's -- " she sucks in a breath, hand hovering over your head. "you've still got energy for more? then, in that case... "

your sara smells like rain and lightning, a warm smoky scent like a storm is about to roll in. you made a point of how much you like it before by burying your face in her neck and taking a deep breath in. but you never knew just how delightful her other scents could be too.

her shampoo is like flowers and melon and you can happily say that you love it as you twine your fingers through her hair and tug her head down, kissing and sucking all along the skin of her throat and chest.

a spark jumps from her fingertip as she palms your chest under your shirt, sending a burst of shivers down your spine. you bite down and savor the feeling of softness underneath your teeth, causing her to gasp. she feels your lips curve into a grin against her skin.

you suck on her collarbone for a moment, and she whines slightly, squirming under you. her hands tighten on your breasts, squeezing in a vaguely pleasant way. "there you go, sweetheart," you hum, "so you like it when i do that?"

"y-yes," she breathes as you lean forward, nipping at her chest. there's a heady intoxicating scent of sweat and arousal and smoke that's just so hot you can barely stop yourself from devouring her. you leave her a bite mark for every trace of that deliciousness, delighting in her writhing under you with her cheeks painted red.

you feel the muscles of her stomach clench as she gets closer and closer, grasping your shoulders with sharp nails, and it's almost funny just how sensitive she is. "please -- please, you -- " she gets out as you reach up, kissing a line down to her breasts, and when you bite down on her nipple you can feel her hips tense underneath.

"go ahead," you whisper, cupping her face in your hand and smothering her in a kiss, tugging on her lower lip, "i wanna hear you, sweetheart."

her breath is warm and sweet on your face as she cries out, falling back onto the bed. even in the midst of her orgasm she smells delectable, you want to press your face into her chest and just lick and suck and bite on her until she's all yours, even if no one can see it underneath her armor she'll know that the tengu warrior was teased to cumming with only your teeth.

"you came with me barely touching you," you smirk, hooking your finger under her chin and forcing her to look up. "you want to go for round two?"

"always," she says, exhausted and struggling to sit up, and you want to ruin her.

she's so fragile and delicate, like a sakura blossom that can be ruined with just one slash. you can feel your darling ayaka trembling under your hands. her long icy blue hair is falling over her back and you have to brush it out of the way to reach her skin. every time you touch her she squeaks.

"you're so sensitive," you whisper, dragging one finger down her spine. you haven't even started touching her yet. "are you always like this, or is it just for me?"

"j-just for you," she whimpers, fingernails scrabbling at the table you have her bent over. "just for you, so please -- haah!" she moans so loudly as you push one finger into her, you think everyone in the manor must have heard, but you can't bring yourself to care.

you lean forward slightly, plunging it in and out with a teasing smile and saying in a quieter tone, "do you like how it feels? do you want me to do more?"

she manages to get out, "y-yess," as her eyes go wide, face flushed and managing to soften her cries just a bit. the feeling of being inside her is so addicting, able to control her pleasure so easily, and she's so cute, so soft and warm and wet as you pump your fingers into her.

you brush your finger over her clit, and her knees buckle, letting out a gasp. you have to hold her up. having this much power is almost intoxicating. "thankyouthankyouthankyou," she sobs, pushing back onto your hand and it's so adorably amateurish.

she's so dainty, you don't want to hurt her. you don't want to break her. but every time she does something like that you fall a little bit more for her and it's so hard to hold yourself back. you want to give her pleasure, so that she knows what it's like to feel good. and it's so easy.

you add one more finger, and when she screams your name, going limp with eyes rolling back in her head, you can feel every bit of the tremors in her slight frame.

even when you're between her thighs, yoimiya never stops talking. you're not complaining of course; she's got such a cute voice, so bubbly and warm and way too hot as she gasps and whines in between words.

"a-an' today me and -- ah! -- me and thoma from the yashiro commission ran into each other at the market s-so we -- haah -- we talked for a little bit and," she breaks off into a moan, thighs tensing.

"what did i say?" you pull back and you can see her fluids dripping from her needy hole. she sobs, struggling to sit up, face flushed. "t-to keep talking, i'm sorry so don't stop i -- " she moans again, even louder as you plunge back in.

her choked squeaks make you smile against her folds, her whole body so hot it almost hurts to touch. your fingers are digging into her plush thighs, soft and full of heat like marshmallows almost. maybe it'll show tomorrow; the thought makes you circle her clit, the idea of tiny red marks on her legs wherever you touched her is so delicious.

"g-go faster," she manages between whimpers, "you feel so nice -- it's -- " you heed her request and speed up, licking over her opening quicker and it only elicits more noises from her, teary mewling and begging you to speed up as she approaches her climax.

she's never silent for a moment, always making sounds like she's in pain but you know it might be the most intense pleasure of her life. "i wanna cum, i wanna," she babbles, fingers tangling in the bedsheets and white knuckled with her desperate grip.

you decide to take pity on her -- no matter how much you love hearing her, it's not fair to keep dragging it on when she's pleading with you to make her cum, and you drag your tongue over her slit, circling it as her voice speeds up, until finally you slip the tip of your tongue into it and you feel her hips twitch.

"please -- " the words are cut off by a long, sobbing whine, back arching as her vision goes white, thighs clenching your head. the sound of her begging voice so arousing it makes you dizzy. "please please yes it feels so good feels so good feels so -- haaah -- !"

#mine #kokomi x reader #kokomi smut #yae miko x reader #yae miko smut #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara smut #ayaka x reader #ayaka smut #yoimiya smut #yoimiya x reader

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