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#showing the range and beauty of bodies
dystopiandramaqueen · 2 years
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cultofstan · 6 months
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Pics of Doc Ock from The Clone Conspiracy Event
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lorephobic · 5 months
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hey would you terribly mind sharing your fav barry pics 🙏 signed a newcomer to the barry church
nooo omg haha not ANOTHER excuse to look at barry pics for two hours straight this can’t be happening !
anyway starting with some beautiful body pics that drive me a little bit insane<3
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welcome to the barry church!!
GQ (2022) / Wonderland (2023) / Document (2023) / Alasdair McLellan for Homme+ (2022) / Document (2023) / Harry Lambert for Homme+ (2022) (x) (x)
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ghosts-cyphera · 7 months
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pornstar! ghost who buys u cute little underwear sets for every scene u do together ?? he says it doesn’t mean anything but in reality he spent hours trying to pick out the nicest colours n fit for u <33
18+; mdni / suggestive fluff / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here ♡
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ghost's foot drummed against the ground as he studied the boutique from the street. the window displays were decorated with flower arrangements and expensive-looking cotton clouds, among which golden hangers displayed the most intricate sets of lingerie he had ever seen.
fitting for you.
you, who he knew—no matter what kind of a scene you were shooting—liked to feel beautiful on set. beautiful just to be adored and worshipped: to be made love to, or beautiful to be turned messy: to be fucked and made to feel used. that touch of something pure was always there when you showed up for work, day after day with a sparkle in your eyes.
with a warm chuckle, ghost stepped inside. 
everything about the boutique reminded him of a candy store. the colors, the details, and even the scent of something sweet were all tugging the corners of his lips into a warm smile.
he was utterly out of his comfort zone, but fuck, did it also make him feel all sorts of fucking thrilled. 
you’d love the place to bits.
“shopping with a special someone in mind?” 
the words flowed from the tongue of a sales assistant: a twinkly-eyed woman whose arms spread in a greeting as she closed the distance to him. “a partner, perhaps?”
bloody hell.
“oh, no—err—,” ghost cursed under his breath as he let out a deep laugh. “just a friend, really.”
“that’s one lucky friend right there,” she chuckled. “we carry a wide range of sizes and models for all body types, but if there’s any chance that you’d happen to know their measurements, that would—“
“yeah. of course. yeah, I’ve got—,” his finger slid into the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out a neatly folded note that he handed to the assistant with a grin. “I—err—asked her stylist.”
“your friend is in the show business, is she?” the assistant mused as she unfolded the paper—a touch of warm amusement on her features as her eyes scanned the handwriting. “perfect. I see that they’ve included everything we need for finding the—,” she paused, her brows rising as a bright smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “you really did come prepared, huh?”
“yeah, I’ve got val to thank for that,” he let out a laugh as his gaze traveled across the store. everything about the space screamed luxury, from the velvet couches to the tall windows and the complimentary champagne that the assistant—nila, she introduced herself—was now offering him.
yet with a shake of his head and a polite smile ghost declined the drink, all due to the spark of curiosity prickling under his skin.
while he was not usually a man to display his feelings and emotions publicly, as his feet now led him towards a stand in the middle of the store, he knew there was no use in trying to bite down his smile. 
for on a round stand, surrounding a tall flower-arrangement, half a dozen sets of lingerie were gently placed: each of them damn near handcrafted to you.
their colors, cuts, and details were all you.
“seems like something’s stood out," nila’s voice was warm as she stepped to him.
“she’ll call me a bloody stalker for knowing her this damn well, but these—,” ghost let out a warm chuckle as he nodded his head, “yeah. she’d feel fuckin’ beautiful in these.”
“you really do know her,” she peered up at him, much in the same way that he was used to with other women. yet what came to her, in her eyes was nothing but genuine curiosity: warmth not towards ghost, but towards you. “she’s really lucky to have someone like that.”
“it’s really fuckin’ me who’s gotten lucky,” despite the whisper of a smile on his features, with his words his voice dipped ever so slightly. “she’s the best thing I’ve ever—,” he wet his lips with a chuckle. “it’s the way she makes you feel seen. special. like you—“ he shook his head. “fuckin’ hell do I know. never really been good with words.”
“if even a fraction of that glimmer in your eyes is visible when you look at her—,” nila arched an amused brow. “believe me, she knows.”
“rather she didn’t.”
“stuck on that stage, huh?”
ghost grinned, wetting his lips as a touch of warmth rose to play on his cheeks. “alright, enough of that, yeah? back to the—,” he gestured towards the stand with a chuckle, “fuckin’ lingerie, eh?”
the next two hours flew by on wings as ghost gathered a selection of pieces for you. each one was carefully picked not only to bring attention to all those things he knew you loved about yourself but also all those small parts that you were still learning to embrace. all of it—he hoped—to help you see yourself in the way that he saw you.
nothing short of perfect.
“the last one,” nila smiled as her fingers finished tying off one last satin bow: one just as perfect as the previous dozen had been. “and we’re all done.”
ghost wet his lips with a chuckle as he reached for the gift box. “is it weird to suddenly feel fuckin' nervous?”
“a little,” she smiled. “you really don't need to worry,” she arched a carefully amused brow, “ghost.”
his gaze found hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “you know who—“
“from the moment you walked in.” nila’s laugh was soft as she leaned against the counter: her amusement now reflecting back on the features of ghost.
“and so, you know who these are for, eh?"
“it’s just a wild guess, really.” her grin turned into a careful smile. “she’s beautiful. don’t—,” she shook her head. “don’t let her go.”
“fan of hers?”
“sexual awakening of sorts.”
“fuckin’ understandable,” ghost’s laugh was breathless as he pushed off the counter, his hands now filled with gift bags. “thank you, eh? for all your help.”
“of course,” she beamed—only for her eyes to widen with a sudden realization. “hold up! I almost forgot—“ she reached over the counter to wrap her fingers around the note of measurements scribbled down by valeria. 
“believe me,” nila laughed as she slipped it into the pocket of ghost’s jacket. “you don’t want to lose it.”
it was not until he had made his way home that he finally fished out the folded paper: the one that did not only include the measurements of your bust, hips, and waist. scribbled at the bottom was also an additional message, accompanied by a small hand-drawn picture.
on the off chance that one of these days you’ll go and admit just how down bad you are for her. – V
a measurement, and next to it, a drawing of a ring.
fuckin’ hell.
ghost blinked his eyes shut with his laugh, deep and warm.
for now, the small pile of gift-wrapped boxes would have to do, yet as he walked to his bookshelf and slid the note between the pages of his favorite book… 
that’s when he promised himself to never lose that small paper, and with it, the reminder to hold onto you, too.
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a/n: aah my wee cheeks are literally cramping from how brightly I smiled when writing this, haha. too cute? nah, we don’t know her. love you all! / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is still so very open for all your thoughts about him. 💌
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girlbossagenda · 3 months
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How to stop feeling embarassed for everything
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
I know a lot of people struggle with this, this is the same for me, but I've overcame the severe part and I'm here to share some tips to stop feeling embarassed about everything.
୨୧Undestand you can't control everything୨୧
This is so important, cause it lifts a lot out of weight off your chest, undestand that sometime things are not always dictated by your actions, you may just play around 30%-70% of a role in your circumstances, but it's never always 100% . So dont put all the blame on you.
୨୧Will this matter in 5 years?୨୧
Always ask this question to yourself, "Will all of this matter in five years?", if not avoid overthinking it and if you can't help it, scream, cry and journal or record youself while you say everything out lout, but don't treat it like something that it's going to matter in a range of five years, especially if you are young.
୨୧show up for yourself୨୧
It can be as simple as a face mask, cooking a new meal or taking a shower, but you need to show love to youself and to relax your mind and body, writing love letters to youself can be very useful for when you need uplifting affirmations, try to create a comftable envirioment to relax.
୨୧do what you can do best୨୧
Part of feeling embarassed comes from our inability to compleate certain tasks or a feeling of inadeguacy, doing something that you are good at it's going to help you remember that if you are not good at this, you are good at that, or that your value didn't decrease, because you still have other skills to offer.
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This is all for today hunns, I hoped this helped you, I will make a mini series with all my advices/guides so if you want to read more guides and tips make sure to stay in tune with this blog, and if you want more advices or simply ask a question you can click the "advice" button on my profile! I will gladly answer you, I hope you'll have a beautiful week xoxo gourgeous!
-𝓐
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ioniiaa · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 7)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Quick Notes:
You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, have just died.
Alastor is about to find out.
Part 7:
The sound of a singular gunshot rang clearly in the night that had been so peacefully quiet up until that moment in time.
Alastor, with the engagement ring in his pocket, who had been peacefully reading a novel within the confines of your shared home, nearly ripped his book in half upon hearing the sound of a gunshot in these woods.
The forest around here was part of his private property, anyone who dared to trespass or hunt in his neck of the woods was shot on sight. Many people ignored the plentiful and very obvious warning signs, so it wasn't his fault so many people ended up becoming your and his meals. Everyone else just thought the law didn't apply to them, straight-up criminals. In his eyes, they all deserved it.
Thinking it was just another nuisance, a "tsk" left Alastor's mouth as he grabbed his shotgun and headed into the woods.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally caught sight of the transgressors. Two men that he, unfortunately, recognized right away as the men from the bar who liked to push his buttons by harassing you.
The seething rage pooled in his core, bubbling up into his chest. This was his chance to get rid of those nuisances once and for all.
They would trouble his darling no more.
For him to get into a better position to take the men out, he crouched down and quietly circled around them like a hunter playing with his prey.
After circling around to position himself behind the men, what he wasn't expecting to see was the most nightmarish sight he's ever seen.
His beloved sweetheart, soon to be betrothed, all disheveled and tied up against a blood-splattered tree with a bullet lodged in the middle of their forehead.
Your eyes were lifeless. There was no doubt about it, the love of his life was dead.
Alastor didn't need to even think before pulling the trigger on the men, shooting one after the other, over and over, even after their bodies had hit the ground.
He. Was. Enraged.
By the time Alastor was done with them, they looked like Swiss cheese, barely strung together.
Alastor's breath was heavy, his chest heaving, near hyperventilating, his eyes were enlarged and his mind was focused on one thing. You.
His beautiful love, he couldn't bear to see you in this state.
In his oddly manic and shocked state, he untied you from the tree and took your body back to your shared home in the woods not too far from here.
For a few moments, his rage was replaced by sorrow and mourning as he buried you in the backyard. As fucked up as he was in the head sometimes, he would rather die than think about eating you. You were sacred to him.
As he laid you down into the ground, he embraced you once last time and took the ring out of his pocket. He placed the ring onto your ring finger and kissed the top of your hand, "In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear."
After you were buried, the rage returned like a vicious tsunami. Oh he wasn't done with revenge just yet.
Every single man or woman that ever mistreated you or offended you, was put on his list.
This night was the catalyst that gave birth to the serial killer known as the "Bayou Killer".
Alastor stopped visiting Mimzy's bar since your death, with his sole focus and dedication in life going to hunting down those that had harmed you in life. After all, they deserved it, you were like an angel to him.
But what Alastor didn't stop doing, was broadcasting his radio show. So many of his connections were made because of his show, so it was a valuable resource to keep active, to use to his advantage.
Alastor continued living his life like this until every single name was crossed off his list.
It was then that it was time for his luck to run out.
Right upon the killing the very last person on the list, was Alastor also shot right square in the forehead.
Before his consciousness faded into black, all he could hear was the muffled panic of a stranger who seemed to be apologizing for mistaking him for some sort of animal.
All Alastor could do was chuckle at the irony of the whole situation, the maniacal laughter was the type that only a madman could produce- before everything went dark and he died.
He thought he would never see you again, because surely, his beloved sweetheart would end up in heaven right?
The answer to this would remain a mystery for many decades to come as Alastor descended into Hell and became who is now widely known in Hell as "The Radio Demon".
-> Part 8
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idontmakelaugh · 9 months
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side note but. i love so much the way basically all the characters in good omens are just people. like in tv shows you usually need to have actors within a certain age range and if they are older they need to fit a specific beauty standard unless they are playing a comedic role. here? here there are so many characters that look like someone you could meet while buying groceries. you see so many actors older than 40 and they all look so normal and don't need to have a specific body shape and they look so human and that makes them so beautiful
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
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red wine | f. odair
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masterlist
summary: you and finnick spend the evening together at a party in president snow’s mansion. hidden feelings reveal that things are much more complicated than they seem.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: alcohol use, mentions of alcoholism, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, minor angst
notes: i'm really proud of how this one turned out. someone better enjoy it.
word count: 1.3k
The entire room was buzzing, a party at Snow’s Mansion in full swing. People were chatting, laughing, and dancing, and yet all Finnick could focus on was you. Your rosy smile. Your sparkling eyes. Your laugh that rang like a perfectly pitched bell. He had never heard anything more harmonic.
Drunk on sweet red wine, your head fell back with every word that left his mouth. His natural wits and humour only seemed to heighten your amusement.
“…such a liar!”
“No, I’m serious,” Finnick urged, grinning. “Go look if you don’t believe me.”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn’t stop. After winning the 70th Hunger Games, you thought happiness was something impossible to regain. Many visits to the Capitol resulted in you meeting the famous Finnick Odair, who, over the course of many months, had gained your friendship and showed you that light could still be found in the darkness that was being a Victor.
“Fine, Finnick. I believe you—President Snow has cats dressed in little white suits running around his mansion.”
“Thank you!”
You weren’t sure how you ended up talking about Snow’s cats. You weren’t sure when the wine had seeped into your brain, making the subject so irrationally hilarious. All you knew was that it didn’t matter what Finnick was talking about. What mattered was that he was talking about it with you.
Throughout the night, all types of women had thrown themselves at him. Beautiful women. Old women. Women who were surgically enhanced to resemble animals. But he rejected them all to stay by your side. Another girl came swooping in, asking him for a dance. She was incredibly attractive, her eyes dark and sultry, her hair pin-straight and hanging at her waist.
Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline. You thought for certain he would whisk her away.
But once again, he proved you wrong.
His hand fell on your hip, pulling you into his side. “Sorry, honey. I’ve already got a dancing partner tonight.”
That sobered you up a little.
The woman pouted, her whisker implants drooping as she left in the opposite direction.
You glanced nervously at the large hand still cupping your hip before looking back up at Finnick. “I am not dancing in front of these people.”
“Why not? You’re a great dancer.” He smirked. “Remember that time I walked in on you dancing in one of the bathrooms? That thing you were doing with your hips?” He blew out a breath of air.
Warmth flooded your cheeks. That had been the first time you met Finnick. You were a borderline alcoholic back then, having just become a Victor and all. Still, dancing in a bathroom was tough. Having the Capitol’s heartthrob catch you was even tougher.
“You know, your face is almost as red as that gorgeous dress you’re wearing,” he teased.
Everyone at the party was weighed down with extravagant and obnoxious attire which, to Finnick, resembled aliens trying to impersonate human fashion. But not you though. You wore a simple floor-length silk dress that was the colour of blood. There was nothing remarkable about the gown, yet Finnick found it to be the loveliest thing he had ever seen—a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else’s ridiculous artificial outfits. Or maybe it was just the person wearing it that made him feel this way.
You hiccupped. “I’m just trying to achieve the monarchy look.”
He shook his head, still grinning. “You mean the monochromatic look?” Your expression morphed into one of puzzlement as if you were trying to figure out the secrets of the universe. Finnick chuckled, swiping his thumb across your warm cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. You’re very drunk.”
“Only a little.”
He watched as your eyes closed, swaying on your feet. There was a small smile on your face, seemingly absorbing the lively atmosphere around you. The thumping music; the sound of laughter, and the warmth of alcohol buzzing in your brain. If the entire room weren’t swarming with his customers and the President’s guards, he probably would have kissed you. And if you were in your right mind, he probably would have confessed his feelings too.
Too many variables worked against him. So, instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Maybe you should call it a night. Before you end up in the bathrooms again.”
You laughed, eyes opening again. He laughed with you, but your drunken mind failed to notice the deep affection his gaze suddenly held. A lot of things had slipped past you that night. If only you had seen them; things between the two of you would be so much more different. Less complicated. More true.
Finnick helped you gather your things, shooing away every man who asked to take you home on your way out. Somewhere along the way, his hand had interlocked with yours. This you noticed. The wine only seemed to enhance the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. It sent sparks up your arm, beginning in your fingertips which rested between his knuckles.
Eventually, he had successfully assisted—half-carried—you down the palace steps and into the backseat of your ride home.
“Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair,” you said, looking up at him from your seat.
His dimples grew deep with a genuine smile, dishevelled hair blowing in the soft night wind. He rested a hand on the door. You wished he would step into the car with you.
Once more, he gently brushed his thumb against your cheek. “Never without you, sweetheart.”
A subtle confession. And then the door shut.
Finnick watched the taillights fade into the dark as you disappeared down the long driveway. Gone. Until the next party, that is. Or maybe even before then, if he finally gathered up the courage to convince you to flee Panem with him. Only then would he be free to pursue his feelings for you.
Johanna, who had been threatened into coming to the party by the President, found Finnick at the bottom of the palace steps, solemnly staring into the darkness. She stepped beside him. He didn’t seem startled; he barely even noticed her presence.
“You okay?” she asked flatly. When Finnick said nothing, she tried again. “You two looked friendly tonight.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. Was it that obvious? Who else noticed?
“Johanna,” he finally acknowledged her existence. “If I asked you to put an axe in my head, would you?”
“Not that I wouldn’t be happy to do so, but why, may I ask?”
His hard-set lips quirked at the question. Why? Shades of red flooded his mind like an open floodgate. Crimson of a silk dress. Cherry of painted lips. Pink of blushing cheeks. All of which flowed through his red-blooded veins and straight into his heart.
Laughter in the tune of a perfected melody echoed in his ears, the image of a beaming smile accompanying it. Then there was the voice, “Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair.” He hung onto every word that voice spoke. All the philosophical thoughts it had spoken aloud; the nonsensical wine-drunken babbling, and the gentle whispers that longed for a simpler life which he had the honour of being trusted with. Your voice. Your words.
Everything that made you who you were—that was the answer to Johanna’s question. The reasoning behind Finnick’s next words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Surprise briefly flickered across Johanna’s features, then returned to their usual monotony state. “Well… that’s not good.”
“No,” he spoke, his eyes lingering on the ominous white roses that lined either side of the driveway. “It’s not.”
part two
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bvidzsoo · 5 months
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Grease and Oil
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⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳
TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it
Word count: 5,6k
A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!
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            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.
I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.
“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”
Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”
He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.
“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.
“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.
“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”
Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.
“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.
“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.
“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”
Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”
Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.
“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.
“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.
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            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.
“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.
“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.
And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”
“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”
“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.
“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”
“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”
Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.
“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.
“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”
“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”
I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.
“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.
“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.
“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.
“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.
“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.
“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.
“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.
“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”
Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.
“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.
            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.
“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.
“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”
My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.
“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”
I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.
“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”
But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.
“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.
“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.
“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.
“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”
Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”
His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”
“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”
“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.
“That we should go for a second round—”
“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”
Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”
“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.
“I thought I smelled hot—”
“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”
“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”
“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.
“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.
“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.
“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.
“Goodbye, Mingi.”
“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.
Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?
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Rafey - Rafe x Reader FLUFF
Req: I am in need of rafe fanfics so here I am requesting …. I was wondering if you could write something about rafe being really soft when it comes to reader and being completely different from his usual mean personality and just being completely whipped for her?? Hope this is alright :)
Rafe x Reader est. relationship
Warnings: Language, violence, alcohol and drug use, rafe making sexual innuendos lol
Summary: You witness Rafe's animosity towards others and notice the difference in his treatment of you.
SOFT! RAFE IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.
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Summers on The Cut were the absolute best. Parties every weekend, the beach with your friends, all the time in the world with your boyfriend, Rafe. The Kook life suited you well.
You stepped into Tannyhill, the blast of the AC immediately cooling your body down from the hellish weather of the OBX. Rafe and Sarah had come together, a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence, to plan that weekend's party. Rose and Ward had taken Wheezie out of town for her birthday, leaving the elder Camerons alone in the big house. Sarah was in the kitchen, stirring a big cooler of some sort of beverage you guessed you would be indulging in later that night.
"Hey Y/N!" She smiled at you. "Rafe is out getting some stuff for tonight, but he should be back soon!" You nod and cross to the counter where she is.
"Alright." You look around the big room. "Do you need help with anything? Should I-"
"Could you get the ice from the freezer?" You smile.
"Got it."
Fifteen minutes later, and a few sips of Sarah's concoction later, you are giggling on the sofa.
"No way."
"No, I'm serious. After he got his wisdom teeth out, he kept asking to watch The Backyardigans. It was hysterical. Wheez got so many good videos of him." You simply couldn't contain your laughter at the thought of Rafe watching a kids' TV show.
"Yeah yeah. It's hysterical." His voice rang out from behind you and Sarah's eyes went wide as they met yours, a laugh threatening to escape from her lips. You, however, kept giggling.
"Rafey... How often do you watch The Backyardigans?" He rolled his eyes and set his hands on the back of the couch, bending down to meet your height.
"It was a one-time thing, baby." You giggled again and Rafe smiled the tiniest bit. "Geez, how much have you had to drink?" He sat up, running his hand through his hair, which you were thankful for. After you had kept stealing his gel, Rafe left his hair natural, which you were very thankful for.
Sarah started laughing again, which made you start laughing.
"Not a lot!" He rolled his eyes and turned away from the two of you, going to the kitchen to finish preparations. Sarah suddenly gasped and tapped your shoulder repeatedly. "D'ya wanna get ready with me? It will be so fun." You immediately nod.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Sarah jumps off of the couch reaching her hand out for you.
"C'mon!" You grabbed her hand and let yourself be pulled in the direction of the stairs before Rafe's voice stopped you.
"Hold on ladies. I'd like to talk to my girl before you leave me all alone." Sarah giggles again before running up the stairs. You smile and turn to Rafe, jumping a bit in shock when you see that he is already in front of you, his hand on the wall beside your head.
"Hi." You whisper.
"Hi." He whispers back. You grin at him, which makes him smile.
His unoccupied hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face before he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"I bet you're gonna look beautiful tonight. Have fun with Sarah and holler if you need anything." He gives you a real Rafe smile and you return an even bigger one.
Hours later, you were riding on the buzz of Sarah's tasty drinks and some weed. You felt great, the light blue dress you chose for the night fell just below your bottom, something that Rafe had noticed the moment you had walked down the stairs.
He had been keeping an eye on you all night, how could he not with that fucking dress? You looked like you were having a good time with Sarah and the rest of your friends, smiling at you from afar.
"Yo, Rafe!" Kelce clapped him on the shoulder. "Special delivery from Barry." The mention of the drug caught Rafe's attention quickly and he grinned at Kelce.
"Where?" Kelce jerked his head behind him and began to walk away. Rafe turned his head back to where you were and decided you'd be fine on your own for a bit. He met Kelce and Topper in a spare guest-room. The white power clumped on the table made Rafe's heart pound in anticipation. The three Kooks indulged in the drug, making their noses burn and heads spin.
Rafe left the room and made his way back to the party, rounding a corner when a touron bumped into him.
"Hey man! Watch where you're going. Asswipe." The dark haired guy spat out. With the drug mixed with Rafe's temper, the guy was on the floor in an instant.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Topper and Kelce were right behind Rafe, amused looks on their faces. The party had quieted down, eyes and ears on Rafe and the kid on the floor below him.
You pushed your way to the front of the crowd, staring with wide eyes as Rafe's body loomed over the touron.
"Dude! what the fuck?" The guy scrambled up onto his feet, pushing Rafe back with as much force as he could. "Do you wanna fight?"
Rafe's dark laugh could be heard over the music.
"Awe dude's gone and fucked up." Topper said, coaxing a laugh out of Kelce.
Rafe smirked, pushing the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows.
"Won't be much of a fight dude." Rafe's fist collided with the guys face seconds later, sending him back onto the floor. Gasps sounded throughout the room.
"Rafe!" You screamed as he bent down to deliver another blow. And another.
Rafe managed to control his anger and picked the touron up, clutching him by his shirt.
"Get the fuck out of my house." The touron wasted no time scrambling out of Tannyhill and seconds later, the party was back in full-swing, like Rafe hadn't just beaten a tourist up.
Kelce and Topper patted Rafe on the back as he inspected his hands.
"Rafe." The prior actions had sobered you up almost completely. Their heads snapped to yours and Rafe gave you another one of his rare smiles. You fought the urge to smile back. "Come with me. Let me help you." You glared at Kelce and Top as they giggled at Rafe nodding and following you out of the room like a puppy.
The cocaine had made Rafe hyperfixate on you. Your pretty face, your sparkling eyes, the slight pout of your lips while you cleaned off his bloody knuckles.
"Hi, baby." He whispered. You were standing in between his legs, with him on the counter in his bathroom.
"Hi." You didn't look at him when you replied, too focused on fixing him up and too mad to meet his gaze. That is until Rafe started giggling.
"Well isn't this a switcheroo." Your head jerked up at Rafe's odd choice of words.
"What?" He's grinning at you again and the sight makes your heart race.
"Usually I'm in between your legs." Your head drops in exasperation and you take a deep breath.
"Jesus, Rafe." You refocused back on his hand, cleaning it up before wrapping it with bandages.
"We could make that happen, if you want..." His voice is just above a whisper. You are waiting for a giggle to follow but the room is silent. You look at him and his eyes are wide and pupils blown.
"Rafe..." You take his head in your hands. "Are you high?" A sheepish look wipes across his face.
"Only a little bit." His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling your body closer to his. His head drops to your shoulder. "Mmmm. Yof snel go." His words are muffled and you stifle a laugh?
"What?" His head pops up a little.
"You smell good."
"Thank you, Rafe." His head pulls back so his eyes can meet yours, a frown present on his handsome features.
"Stop calling me that."
"Rafe? Baby that's your name." He shakes his head.
"You haven't called me Rafey all night." He pouts and you smile.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes, please." Even though you hate Rafe's use of drugs, you do enjoy this side of Rafe that comes out after he indulges in it.
"Aright, baby." You grab his hand to pull him off of the counter but he doesn't budge. "C'mon big guy." He shakes his head.
"Not until you say it." You set your hands on your hips as you stare at your boyfriend, Rafe Fucking Cameron, the scariest Kook of them all who just fucking broke a kids nose, is sitting on a counter in front of you, acting like a baby and begging you to call him by his nickname.
"Then I guess you're gonna have to be nice, Rafe." His eyes narrow.
"You're being mean. I'm always nice." You roll your eyes. "To you." He reaches his hands out and pulls you back to his embrace. "Please?" His eyes are like a puppies and you can't hold back your smile.
"Rafey..." Out comes another true Rafe grin which makes your heart soar.
"Say it again." His fingers brush your sides as he looks at you expectantly. Your hands reach up to push his hair back.
"Rafey." He thanks you with kisses. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips.
"Stop! Ew!" You are a giggling mess. You manage to push the large man away from your body, trying to catch your breath.
You look at him, standing by the door, watching you with a small smile.
"What?"
"I love you." His words go straight to your heart.
"I love you." He pulls you in for a real kiss, one that makes you melt into his arms.
The two of you leave the bathroom hand-in-hand.
"Did you call me 'big guy' ?"
"Shut up."
THIS MADE ME SMILE SO MANY TIMES!
Enjoy!
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skipper1331 · 18 days
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Secret (3) // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |
You woke up with a pounding in your head, the alcohol showing its aftereffects.
This wasn’t your bedroom… but why was it so familiar? When you slowly sat up, you tried to orientate yourself, only the few rays of sunlight illuminating the room. Angry grumbles filled the room as you did so - that‘s when it hit you.
Alexia,
the woman who grumbled furiously in her sleep when you left her touch. The person who hated it when she couldn’t have at least one arm around you while sleeping - "I need to protect you."
And indeed you were right, Ale was peacefully sleeping next to you, hidden under the duvet, soft snores escaping her mouth.
You looked down your body, you were naked and littered in hickeys - Alexia had done a great job in marking you, her possessiveness apparently taking over.
How did this happen…?
Pulling the duvet back up to cover your exposed body, your eyes fell once again on the sleeping beauty.
You knew you should leave before she woke up, but you couldn't. You were under her spell - you had to stay, at least for a few more minutes. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.
Your broken heart was healing by just looking at her - you knew it was wrong but what your mind said and heart felt were different pair of shoes.
After a good 10 minutes you were finally able to tear yourself away as you gathered your clothes from the floor and headed out of the bedroom, putting on your clothes.
You couldn’t leave yet though, knowing that her head would hurt as much as yours did at the moment. so you walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, made a sandwich and got some painkillers against the headache - not for yourself but for Alexia.
With breakfast and pills in your hand, you walked back into her bedroom as quietly as possible. You put it down on her nightstand, intending to leave the room when the midfielder turned around, her hand reaching for you.
You froze.
"5 more minutes amor" she mumbled with her eyes closed, "por favor"
Not knowing what to do, you bend down, caressing her cheek and sweetly kissing her forehead "okay" like you always had done it.
"Te amo"
-
The first thing you did when you arrived at home was laying down on the couch, turning on the tv.
You had the day off, you were hungover - no need to do anything else but relax.
Around afternoon, your door bell rang.
You groaned, annoyed that you had to get up and pause your show in the middle of a thrilling scene.
As you opened the door, you were met with flowers - you couldn’t even the see the person who was holding them, that much flowers in their hands.
"Come in" you took some of the flowers - they looked amazing and smelled like spring - the person grateful for your help. The person followed you to the kitchen, still a bunch of flowers blocking their view.
Arrived in the kitchen, they put them down on the counter, revealing who she was but you knew that already.
Alexia,
was the only person who knew all of your favourite flowers and the only person who ever bought you some.
"hola" she greeted, nervously playing with her fingers.
She hadn’t been here in quite some time.
"Thank you for the breakfast this morning" she said.
Shortly after you had left, the midfielder had woken up, the smell of sandwiches filling the room and the feeling of something - someone - missing, waking her up.
She knew it was you straightaway, not only because of obvious reasons and parts of her memory but also the sandwich gave it away. You were never big fan of taking pills without food in your stomach and you had scowled at Alexia each time when she did so.
You nodded, continuing to put the flowers in vases - just as your body was littered in hickeys, your kitchen island was littered in varieties of flowers, many questions in your head
Why was she her? With flowers? So many of them too? How many were there anyway? Surely not just for a thank you.
"513" she said, almost as if she could read your mind. Somehow she could. She always knew what you thought or what you needed yet she was just too stupid to fulfill the one thing that you actually needed for this relationship to work.
"One for each day where I didn't tell anyone about us plus 20 for the 20€ I offered Alba" she explained, looking directly at you, "I’m sorry- very sorry for- well, for everything. I’m sorry for not taking you out on dates. I’m so sorry for letting you feel like my dirty little secret and for neglecting you outside of our apartments. You did not and do not deserve that because you‘re" subconsciously the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes turning into heart eyes, "you are truly amazing and wonderful and pretty and perfect, and the nicest, most caring and loving person I know and so much more" she carried on, "I did not deserve your kindness. I was scared because the feelings you let me feel are so overwhelming and I thought if we- told other people and then broke up, that I wouldn’t recover from that. The thought of the media and fans harassing us scared me too, more than I like to admit. It‘s no excuse, I just wanted to let you know. But the truth is it made no difference whether the people knew about us or not because I am not recovering from my heart break. And that‘s my own fault. You deserve better than me, I know that, but it kills me to imagine you with someone else. I want to do better. I need to do better and fight for us? because you- you are the love of my life. All of your romance books combined wouldn’t be enough to describe the things i feel for you."
You had stopped your movements awhile ago, shocked about everything she was telling you, "even just seeing you with my sister angered the Hulk out of me and we share the same blood" you let out a shaky laugh, the Hulk movie sadly one of the worst Marvel movies you had watched together.
Both of you were silent for a moment, "i‘m-"
"I-"
small giggles escaped the two of you as you started at the same time, "please continue" Ale said, smiling slightly.
"I don‘t know what to say, if I’m being honest" you admitted, overwhelmed by the situation.
"You don‘t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry and how sorry I truly am. I was never ashamed of you, just scared. You can do whatever you want with that now"
you let her words sink in, hands gripping the kitchen counter while you‘re mind was trying to process everything.
"I‘m hoping that one day, you‘ll be able to forgive me" she inhaled sharply, "and eventually for another chance." it was mumbled, almost inaudible.
She looked so small and vulnerable while she avoided eye contact. Her elegant and strict presence wasn‘t existing anymore, she was just a girl with a broken heart.
"Ale-"
"You don’t- i know- i- I’ll be waiting for you" she muttered, getting up. She walked around the kitchen island, pressing a gentle yet longing and lingering kiss to your temple, tearfully pulling back. She just couldn't stop herself from giving you that little kiss.
Was it the last one forever?
"Lo siento muchísimo"
You let her walk out of the kitchen as she turned around one last time, standing at door the door frame, "i will fight for you unless you say something else"
You were too stunned and shocked to say anything. Everything that happened in the last few minutes played out over and over again in your mind while your eyes followed the midfielder walking out of view.
So many thoughts argued in your head - not one thought clear, nor one gaining the upper hand. Everything was blurry, so confusing. Why couldn't it be easy? Love was so easy for everyone else... why not for you?
You had a good heart - you had to do it.
As usual, your mind was completely against it, but your heart and brain never shared the same opinion. You wanted it - you wanted her. Your heart was practically screaming after her which was why you followed her.
You wouldn’t let her walk through that door, like she had let you.
"Alexia"
She stopped in her tracks, not turning around, expecting you to tell her that there was no point in fighting for you.
Just get over it, please
"Look at me" your voice sounded firm yet caring. She couldn’t predict what your next move was - she was completely clueless, but expected more hurt than just her broken heart which already was one of the worst pains, she had ever suffered from.
Nonetheless she obeyed.
As you looked at her, you realized that your heart wasn‘t able to fight against your brain.
If you forgave her now, it would just show how easy it was to manipulate you.
An apology, no matter how sincere it was and no matter how sweet it was that she had bought you flowers (which had probably cost a lot), wouldn’t heal your wounds. Your pride and pain was still too present. It wouldn't be that easy for her. She had some serious groveling to do.
This time her name wasn’t enough for her to get everything she wanted or had set her mind to.
"Don‘t forgot to drink enough water" you said, internally slapping yourself for that comment.
Your heart wanted to say 'Promise me to try hard enough', so she would know that there was still hope. Because there was. She was your love and your greatest love story. Every part in your body loved her and she loved you, but sometimes love wasn‘t (strong) enough. And even though she didn‘t deserve you at the moment, she deserved the chance to fight for you. She just had to figure that by herself.
You let her walk through that door, like she had let you, hoping that she would try hard enough.
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kentocidal · 7 months
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FILE NAME: SHARING IS CARING!.TXT
USERS FOUND: stepbro!eijirou kirishima x fem!afab!reader x best friend! bakugou
WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED! DO NOT OPEN! stepcest, threesum, oral (m! and f! receiving), corruption, dubcon, piv, unprotected, dirty talk, coercion sort of, scummy!kiri, ask to tag
NOTES ABOUT THE VIRUS: your stebrother kirishima promised his best friend a taste of the forbidden fruit.
INTERNAL MESSAGE: i don't even care if this flops im posting it for me. happy first kinktober fic! visit the masterlist here!
NEW NOTIFICATIONS! @kaedescara @yaekiss @pvbbyb0y @voidshoutsback @4izawas (want to be added? send me an ask off anon!)
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“are you absolutely sure this is gonna go over well, red?”
kirishima huffed out a laugh at his friend’s question, glancing over at him from the driver’s seat of his car as he drove the both of them back to his house. “yeah dude! it’s gonna be great. she’s really sweet, y’know. i’ve already told you everything about her. she’ll be fine.”
bakugou shifted slightly in the passenger seat, jutting out his bottom lip and turning his head to look out the passenger window. the familiar suburban landscape opened up more around them as they turned onto a familiar street, one that they always walked up and down as teens growing up.
it was bakugou’s first time back on kirishima’s street in a long, long time. it wasn’t kirishima’s first, though.
kirishima’s mother had remarried another man after he had moved out of the house, and with him came the introduction of probably the most stunning girls he’d ever seen in his entire life. ‘she’s like an angel,’ he’d mumble over to bakugou across a table in the dining hall, showing him a candid of you in sweatpants and a tight tank top on his mom’s couch, ‘she just lets you do anything to her, man. it’s like a built-in girlfriend. she’s always like, ohhh nii-san…’ 
bakugou had been apprehensive about the whole situation. he’d known that kirishima had… a thing for that cringe roleplay stepsister porn, but the fact that he was going through with it now that it was a reality had originally made him a bit concerned.
it had taken a lot of convincing for him to agree to come home with kiri for a weekend for … a relaxing getaway, as kirishima had put it.
kiri made the turn into his small driveway and picked up his phone, tapping quickly at the screen. “lettin’ her know we’re here…” he muttered under his breath before the little whoosh sound of the message sending rang through the car. 
bakugou took a deep breath, feeling out of his element. he felt like he was walking into a temptation set up by the devil.
kiri whistled to himself as he got out of the car and wandered to the trunk, popping it open to grab their backpacks. they were only spending the night, not expected to be there past sunday, so they had chosen to pack light.
bakugou gathered himself and stepped out of the car, pushing the door shut a little too hard when the front door of the house smacked open suddenly.
and there you were, in tiny sleep shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, house shoes still on as you grinned and hurried down the stoop to your stepbrother. “eiji-nii! you made it!”
bakugou felt like his mouth was full of cotton as you hurried into kirishima’s arms, nuzzling your face into his chest and kicking a foot up, giggling into him. you were… you were going to rot his brain out. you with those thick thighs, soft-looking skin, clothes tight to your body and the curves of your ass poking out of the bottom of your sleep shorts.
kirishima wrapped his thick arms around your frame and held you tight, pressing his face to your hair and breathing deep, as if he hadn’t just seen you this time last week. “hey, careful! almost knocked me over.” he laughed into you before letting you go to take your shoulders, pushing you back to get a good look at you. “beautiful as always.”
bakugou felt out of place, for the first time in his life, watching his best friend observe his little stepsister, a girl who fell into his lap that he got to stick his dick in. it should be wrong.
kirishima looked over you to bakugou, those crimson eyes of his meeting burning carmine, shark teeth on display. “you remember how i told you my friend was coming over?”
“hm?” you turned and looked over your shoulder, all wide eyes and plush, wet lips that made a knot form in bakugou’s throat. he instinctively clicked his tongue, averting his gaze while kiri squeezed your shoulders. 
“i know you remember that i told you he was staying with us this weekend. hope you still don’t mind. you don’t, right?”
you looked up at your stepbrother and pouted, face feeling hot from embarrassment, you had been so excited about your stepbrother coming home that you had forgotten about your guest. you pulled away from kiri to turn towards bakugou, sticking out a hand in greeting. “nice to meet you, sorry for being so rude, i just got excited.”
bakugou looked down at you with a mixed sort of facial expression. it read like he was angry, but he was more frustrated with his own feelings as he grabbed your hand in his to shake it once. (your skin was so soft, you smelled like coconut, you probably just applied lotion, what would your hand look like wrapped around his-)
“nice t’ meet ya too.”
kiri was sat on one end of the couch, bakugou on the other, beers in hand as you hummed to yourself while cooking dinner. you had offered, against bakugou’s protesting, and insisted that you needed to be a good host for your brother’s best friend while he stayed in your home. so he had allowed it, staring at you through the entryway into the kitchen from his spot on the couch while he watched the way your shorts bunched further around your thighs, long legs exposed. 
kirishima chuckled, startling him out of his trance. “you enjoyin’ the view, bro?”
“this is insane,” bakugou choked out, shifting to face a little more towards kirishima. “this is- this isn’t right. you’re a freak.”
“and yet, you still came.” he shrugged, swirling the beer by the neck of the bottle before taking a swig. “she’s fine with it. she came onto me.”
“i still don’t believe you.”
“dude! i swear! that’s what happened! i was gonna try to be normal about this, yknow. but she wanted me so bad.”
bakugou scrunched his mouth up and sat back on the couch. kirishima was fucking his stepsister who he claims came onto him. kirishima was fucking his stepsister, and he was going to fuck her next. 
“dinner’s ready!” you called out, smiling at the pair of them, and kiri grinned oh so innocently up at you as he stood. “you’re such a doll. thanks, sis.” he patted your head as he walked past you, and you just beamed at him.
bakugou could tell you were trying to act like you weren’t sleeping with your stepbrother in front of guests. he could see how you were holding off, sitting at the opposite ends of tables or rooms, fussing with your clothing a little more than someone who was completely comfortable in their skin. 
dinner was… interesting. there was a sort of heat in the room that no one chose to acknowledge. you asked bakugou about his classes, smiling so prettily when he gruffly explained what his major was, what he wanted to do after graduation. kiri cracked jokes as always, talking around mouthfuls of food as if he had never learned manners. 
things took a shift after you and kirishima did the dishes.
kiri had suggested a movie, except the movie was never picked.
you suggested snacks, too, but the popcorn was never made.
bakugou felt like he had blinked, and suddenly he was on one end of the couch while kirishima was again sat on the other, back to the armrest, one leg kicked up and stretched out on the couch cushions.
you had been pulled into kirishima’s lap after trying to reach over him for a blanket. that had been the catalyst. your back was to kiri’s chest, and his hands had slipped their way up under your tiny tank top to cup your tits with a low groan. “missed you, nii-chan.”
“eiji-nii, what are you-”
“shh, he wants to see. i told him all about us, and i let him know that we were good at sharing.” he mumbled against your ear, his wide forearms starting to bunch the fabric of your tank top further and further up.
your eyes, nervous and embarrassed, were locked dead on bakugou’s, knees knocked together, tits about to be revealed and spill from kirishima’s hands.
kiri was groping his little stepsister in front of his best friend, and he was getting hard.
bakugou felt his nostrils flare as the cogs started to turn in your pretty little head. and then, finally, what he assumed was the real you started to poke through the cracks of your innocent facade. 
“is he gonna watch us, eiji-nii?”
“i want him to join. he’s my best friend ever! you think you can help him out? make him feel just as good as you make me feel?”
“only if he wants to…” you murmured and started to chew on your lip, brows furrowed in concern.
the weight of both his best friend and his best friend’s little sister sat heavily on bakugou’s shoulders for just a moment. he could say no. he could get up and call a car right now to take him home. he could call kirishima’s mother, tell her about what her son and precious stepdaughter have been doing behind their backs. it wasn’t right. it was filthy, it could ruin them-
kirishima gripped the front of your tiny tank and tore the fabric off of you, causing you to squeal in surprise and flinch at the sheer show of strength. your tits, soft and pillowy, nipples hard from the groping, fully on display in front of him.
katsuki bakugou had morals, yes. but katsuki bakugou was also merely a man.
“i wanna fuck you, sweetheart.”
kirishima grinned. “told you bro. best pussy you’ll ever get.” kiri turned his attention back down to you, sliding a massive hand down your front to cup your pussy through your sleep shorts. “you’re not even wearing panties, spread your legs, show kats how wet you’ve been for us.”
you, with your head already swimming from the attention, dropped your knees and spread your legs, revealing the damp patch in the crotch of your shorts. bakugou practically choked. if he had just reached over at the dinner table, he could’ve felt your pretty pussy much earlier.
“now then, nii-chan, i want you to treat kats like he’s your big brother too. make him feel really special.”
“red, don’t-”
“trust me.” kirishima’s eyes cut back up to bakugou’s, and bakugou felt something in him falter. he always viewed himself as the leader of their small friend group while growing up, always taking charge in risky situations. but here, on this couch, in a house he practically grew up in, bakugou felt small next to his best friend, who seemed far too in his element to be normal.
you, lips wet and eyes glassy, nodded anyways and looked up at bakugou with a soft smile. “katsuki-nii.”
“oh, fuck.” bakugou breathed out, shifting closer to you on the couch. “let me see you, take those shorts off-”
kirishima helped you lift your hips up for bakugou to get your shorts down and off of your hips, and he practically started drooling at the sight. you, gorgeous you, your pussy drooling and almost clenching around nothing, puffy clit aching between glistening folds. 
kiri hummed in the back of his throat, dipping his hand back down and swiping two thick fingers through your lips, making you gasp and shudder. he brought his fingers up to his own mouth with a dirty grin. “she tastes good, bro. you should try it.”
bakugou’s gaze flickered between you and kirishima, before ultimately landing on you. you smiled at him, spreading your legs impossibly wider, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek. “katsuki-nii, please, want you to-”
you didn’t have to say anything else to convince bakugou to drop to his stomach and press his mouth to your sopping cunt, lapping over you with wide strokes of his tongue and groaning into your pussy.
you moaned, a hand flying to his hair while the other braced itself on kirishima’s thigh. you tossed your head back onto kirishima’s shoulder, already trying to rock your hips up to meet bakugou’s tongue halfway.
kirishima’s hands found their way to bakugou’s hair and to your mouth. two of his fingers dipped into your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them, which you gladly obliged, swirling your tongue around the digits and pretending like it was your big brother’s cock. 
bakugou felt his hair get yanked, and he hissed before looking up and meeting kirishima’s dark gaze. 
“get a good taste, man. you’re gonna fuck her mouth after. don’t let her cum.”
you whined desperately in the back of your throat in protest, but kiri only pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth to make you gag and gurgle around them. bakugou hummed against your clit, sucking your puffy nub into his mouth to really make you leak. 
you squirmed in kirishima’s lap, clutching bakugou’s blonde locks as his tongue expertly swirled around your clit and his fingers prodded at your entrance, two of them slipping into your hole without much resistance. you bucked your hips, clenching down hard around his fingers as he crooked them upwards towards the spongey spot inside of you, and bakugou had an inkling of a feeling that he wouldn’t get his treat if he didn’t listen to kirishima.
he felt the way your breathing suddenly changed, and sat up, fingers and the bottom half of his face soaked with your juices.
kirishima pulled his fingers from your mouth, and you cried out in frustration. “katsuki-nii, please! so close, please-”
“don’t you wanna cum on this cock, princess?” kirishima sat up a little more and grabbed his hard cock through his sweats, making bakugou let out a breathy chuckle. 
“he’s right, baby. you know the rules. you only get to cum on your big brother’s cock.”
you felt the coil in your tummy start to loosen as kirishima stood and maneuvered out from under you, pushing you back against the armrest. bakugou took the free moment to crawl over you and smash his lips to yours, letting you get a good taste of yourself while on bakugou’s lips.
you heard kirishima remove his sweatpants off to the side, listening to the familiar sound of him spitting onto his palm to start stroking himself to the sight of you being manhandled by someone else. 
“kats,” kiri grumbled, and bakugou sat up while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “yeah, yeah, ‘m goin’.”
“nii-chan, put your head over the back, yeah? gonna suck katsuki-nii’s cock just like you suck mine.” kiri crawled over you and grabbed your throat to guide your head back. you swallowed and nodded, obeying immediately with a small yes, eiji-nii that made a spike of heat go down bakugou’s spine.
bakugou dropped his sweats and boxers to the floor, stepping out of them to finally give himself a few precursory pumps as you laid back fully on the couch, your head hanging off upside-down on the armrest. you licked your lips as kirishima guided your legs around his waist.
bakugou took a good look at the situation he found himself in. his best friend was hovering over his stepsister, fat cock prodding her entrance, no condom in sight. he swallowed thickly at the little sounds you started to make as he guided his cock through your wet folds, slicking his cock up with your juices. he caught himself staring at kirishima’s back before looking back down to your parted lips and where you started to drool all over your cheeks, and he couldn’t hold of much longer.
“open wide, princess,” he murmured, a hand reaching to grab your throat. you opened your mouth as far as it would go, and bakugou made himself a home in the wet cavity of your mouth.
he groaned, loud and low, his free hand reaching down to flick one of your nipples and grope your breast.
kirishima’s eyes glanced up as he listened to how you gurgled around the thick, foreign cock in your mouth, trying to adjust to the position and the new intrusion.
then he smiled, because he knew he was going to just knock the air out of your lungs. he pressed the fat tip of his cock to your weeping hole, and slammed himself home.
you gagged hard around bakugou’s cock, jerking and moaning out, legs locking instinctually around his waist.
“oh, baby, ‘m sorry. just couldn’t wait anymore, my li’l sister’s pussy was just too pretty for me. you can handle it, you always take it.” kiri grinned up at bakugou, at how his face was scrunched up and contorted with pleasure from how your throat was spasming around his cock.
kirishima started a rough pace, barely giving you room to catch your breath as you did your best to breathe through your nose, bakugou was quick to follow, sinking inch after inch further into your throat with huffs of yeah, that’s it, good fucking girl, taking your brother’s cock, i can feel where ‘m at in your throat.
kirishima reached down to grab your hands and pin them by your head, keeping you fully pinned as the tip of his cock slammed up against your cervix over and over. he was deep, filling you in the best way possible, while his best friend’s fat balls smacked against your face as you sucked his cock.
you felt lost, fully debauched, becoming pliant and fully receptive to their wills. you were a toy, and you loved how it felt on your skin.
bakugou moaned as he felt how deep he was fucking your throat, thrusting harder against you and feeling his legs start to shake. “can’t- ‘m gonna cum-”
“told you she- ah- was good,” kiri groaned as he leaned down to bite into the skin of your shoulder, making you whine and gag again around bakugou’s cock.
you squirmed and thrashed with each hard thrust from kirishima, the force of his hips making you bob harder up and down on bakugou’s cock. you felt stuffed, your legs felt on fire, but you were right on the edge.
bakugou shuddered before whining, sinking his cock deep into your throat to spill his hot load in a place you wouldn’t be able to spit from. you moaned around his length as you felt him cum down your throat, warm spurts and twitching cock making your head spin.
kirishima slowed his thrusts, rocking his hips against you as bakugou took his time riding out his high before stepping back and pulling his cock from your throat.
you wheezed, coughing before absolutely making sure you swallowed every last drop, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show bakugou that it was all gone.
kiri grinned and chuckled in order to get your attention again. “what a good little girl, swallowing all your brother’s cum. think you can take my load, too?” “please! please, nii-san, please give it to me, make me cum-” you whined loudly as you got the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your big brother in close to you, his massive form towering over you as he practically bent you in half to get deeper.
“i will, i’ll give it to you. shh…” kiri almost sounded affectionate, fucking you so hard the couch started to creak. “fucking- cum for me, cum on my cock, lemme feel you-”
a few swipes of his thumb on your clit sent you finally over the edge, squirting on him and feeling yourself grip down on his cock. he groaned into your shoulder as he came right after you, tumbling into his high and hearing the squelching sounds of his load filling your tight pussy.
he rode out both of your orgasms before finally settling down on top of you, peppering your face with kisses as you shook. then he looked up to where bakugou was sat on a loveseat, dazed, watching from afar.
kiri shifted and opened up a space next to the both of you, and you smiled over at him. “come here, katsuki-nii.”
bakugou swallowed before walking right into the demon’s trap.
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1K notes · View notes
positively-mine · 23 days
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You’re a girl?!
how they find out & they're reaction
tags: slightly ooc, afab, female anatomy, slight favouritism..., grammatical and punctuation errors 😔
a/n: rewatched Saiki k and so I've been procrastinating lately BUT YEA I GET TO WRITE SAIKI K NOW
Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚
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Silver
Sleeping beauty over here didn’t know until one fateful afternoon nap. First situation is when he’s napping in an unconventional area and out of sight. He hears people talking (this school and their problem of talking too loudly 😒) and he overhears this price of information. Secondly, (he's sharp but doesn't show it) and straight forward asks you. Like he has his suspicions but just wanted to make sure in case he makes you uncomfortable.
Does get slightly protective of you. He knows that you can handle yourself just fine but in case you ever get put into a difficult situation he will wake up from his slumber and help you.
Sebek
I want to say that he barges into your room over a range of reasons. Could be because he wants to talk about how amazing malleus is, scolding you for not appreciating said amazingness, or simply just because he wants to spend some quality time with his "friend". Whatever the reason, it causes him to forget about his manners and slams your door wide open. "Human! Listen to w-" and before he can even finish his sentence he's screaming and slamming the door shut.
"Stupid Human!" as one of malleus's guard, its important that he has fast reaction speed to protect his liege. That also became useful when you find your friend half naked and that they're also now a girl (?) the fast reaction speed does not apply to his head at all for this part.
This silly fool will avoid you. please confront him and do something about it because he's not even keeping it discrete. If he sees you down the corridor while hes walking with malleus he may not know it but he shifts his body to hide behind him a bit. Things will get better, just talk to him 😭 Once that's settled he does say things like "ofc as malleus's guard it is my duty to help those weaker around me!" not straight forward with his intentions but it's there at least.
Lilia
i feel like he would know it from the start. It's his old man senses tingling. Many long years of exisiting makes you gain the ability to just suddenly know about such information as well. That or either when hes hanging around trees and overhears you talking about your dilemma with Grim. But doesn’t say anything about it. He’ll wait till when you’re ready to tell him.
In the meantime though, he treats you as per normal. Except those few times where he purposely puts you on the spot to try and get you to tell him faster. He can be a bit impatient and whether you tell him now or later, he will get it out of you eventually.
Malleus
Might be biased with this one but precious pookie pie over here didn't know. He has to have some miracle happen before he finds out. Or Lilia tells him. Like maybe he overhears from the Adeuce duo about your situation or your suspicious behavior around others. He may not know customs outside of his but he can tell when you're feeling awkward. Asks Lilia about it.
Well he's not sure why you're hiding it but in whatever case he will help you. You're his child of man after all. He knows others are intimidated by him and he'll make use of it. Save for a few select others...
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generalsmemories · 10 months
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The general's hair
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: "If requests are open, can I request Reader tugging Jing Yuan's hair to keep him from dozing or just wanted him to pay attention? You can choose the "severity" of the tug =DD" requested by anonymous
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, suggestive scenes (not nsfw, but you can tell it's hinting at it lmfao), humor, mentions of other characters
✧ a/n: dear lord we almost hit 500 jing yuan lovers. as he deserves, truly. thank you all for liking my two works so far!! here's another one while i still work on the lenghty angst fic of mine hehe. p.s please don't question my titles, i am very much terrible at them-
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One of Jing Yuan's striking features is his voluminous hair that adorns his head like a lion's mane. Tied into a high half ponytail while the rest of his locks flow freely down to his shoulders. It's eye catching for sure, with a red ribbon securing the ponytail in place, it's hard to not turn one's head when he takes a walk outside of the divine seat to escape his duties. 
You're well aware of how tempting his hair is to touch everyone. It's the one thing you always reach for whenever you're bored after all.
The first thing you always do whenever he's fresh out of a shower is brush it out while running your fingers through it, or make sure every drop of soap reaches every strand when you take a bath together. A pastime activity Jing Yuan adores doing with you, almost sounding like he's purring in delight whenever you take some extra time to massage his scalp while you wash his hair.
It's also the first thing you would always grab onto to ground yourself when Jing Yuan wants to show his love for you more intimately and passionately. Your primary instinct to pull his strands while trying to get him so much closer to you, a breathless plea for him leaving your lips every now and then. Your husband takes great pleasure from this, merely chuckling while leaning down to press his lips to your ears. Gently telling you to breathe while pressing himself closer to your own sweaty body. During these moments his hair cascades down the side of his face, making him seem a lot more ethereal than usual. And while you can hardly breathe from the sensory overload you always somehow manage to slide your fingers from his lips to thread through his hair with a wry smile, whispering how beautiful he is.
His hair has unfortunately for him recently become the thing you have pulled whenever you notice him start to doze around whether that be in meetings or in general. It was initially something you had done out of desperation since no matter how many times you told him to listen, your husband would already nod off a few minutes after promising you that he wouldn't. Whenever you had complained he has joked that your voice was too soothing to listen to regarding reports that he could fall asleep to it.
So you tried to let one of the cloud knights or Qingzu deliver the reports to thwart that, but then he would downright not pay any attention at all. Which would make some meetings run longer than normal.
God forbid if Fu Xuan even tried to attempt to deliver a report, lest she wanted to get poked fun at or have more people fall asleep other than the general.
So while you were trying yet again to give a report for the general, you were suddenly struck with the memory of one of the many nights you had spent together. The nights where the general would look so much more awake whenever you pulled at his hair from desperation.
… Hey if it worked there, it should have some sort of effect now too, right?
So without looking too suspicious, you went behind the seat. When you passed Jing Yuan's laid back form, your available hand that was not holding the papers reached out to the same high ponytail you had just tied a few hours before and pulled with enough strength that made his head jerk away from his resting hand.
A surprised moan suddenly rang out throughout the Divine Foresight.
And you thanked the Aeons that the only ones present at that moment were the same guards stationed at the very entrance and Qingzu, who only gave you a deadpanned look.
But when Jing Yuan turned to look at you, more awake than he had ever been in any morning and eyes filled with confusion, you were sure you had hit the jackpot to make every meeting go faster. 
Good news for you and everyone else, not so good news for Jing Yuan though.
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“The second matter of the day is the replacement of the newly appointed Cloud Knights who will be transferred to the Luofu from another fleet…”
“Ouch- Dear, pull my hair any harsher than that and I’m afraid you won’t have any strands to brush out in the near future,” Jing Yuan whines when your hand lets go of his high ponytail when he has successfully sobered up from his nth impromptu nap of the day.
You merely glance over at him with a raised eyebrow before walking away, “General, please be aware that you have a meeting with Lady Fu Xuan in a couple of minutes and these are just the briefings of what she will tell you personally,” you respond back, Jing Yuan letting out a huff as he leans back into his seat, rubbing the spot you had just pulled a few minutes ago with knitted eyebrows.
“... Let alone something to grab later tonight-”
“Jing Yuan.”
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iznsfw · 2 months
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Lucid Dream
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju
IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut
8,525 words
Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person
Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)
Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!
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Wonyoung is beautiful.
You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.
The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.
Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 
Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.
Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.
“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.
“Uh-huh.”
Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.
Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 
She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 
All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 
Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.
She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 
She’s the prettiest woman in the world.
You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 
“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”
“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”
Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.
So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.
It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.
“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.
Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.
She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 
You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?
To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.
To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.
You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.
“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”
If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 
She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”
The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.
You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”
You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 
You don’t. 
You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.
-
2:05 a.m., more specifically.
-
Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.
But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?
Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.
Maybe you need the real thing.
Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 
You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.
“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”
Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.
And it says the exact same thing.
fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 
i miss you 
You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 
The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.
But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?
Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 
What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 
XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.
Fine. Click it, you’re curious.
Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.
The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.
There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.
There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 
No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.
That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 
And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 
That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 
But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 
Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 
Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 
It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?
:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.
You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.
Stop it.
She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 
But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.
Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:
alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…
You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 
You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 
Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?
Open the door. This one did.
Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 
How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.
“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 
She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”
The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 
So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.
You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”
In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.
She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.
The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.
Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.
She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”
You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.
“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”
“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.
You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 
You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 
Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.
Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.
You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?
Well, because of her.
Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.
It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?
Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.
You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.
Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.
“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”
When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 
“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”
You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 
You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 
Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”
“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”
“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”
The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.
You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.
It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.
Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.
“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.
She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 
“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”
Yeah, that’s what she wants.
You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.
Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.
Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.
Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 
That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.
Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”
If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.
You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.
“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”
Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 
“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”
Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 
“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”
However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 
“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”
Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 
She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.
“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”
Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.
“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”
Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.
Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”
Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.
You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.
Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.
Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.
But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.
It was you on your wedding day.
You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”
The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.
Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 
You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.
“Oh, oh, oh!” 
What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.
Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 
“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”
That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 
“Keep your whore mouth shut.”
Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 
Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.
But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.
You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 
“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”
Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”
“What if I say yes?” 
“Fuck.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”
Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 
No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 
This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—
—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 
“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”
You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 
Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.
“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”
Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”
You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 
That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 
“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”
Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 
She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.
“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”
“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”
 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.
Not quite.
Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 
But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”
Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 
“You know exactly where.”
Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.
“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”
You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”
The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.
It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 
Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 
“Daddy,” she whines.
Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”
It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.
You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 
The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.
You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 
Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.
Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 
The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”
You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 
Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 
You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.
“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”
“Are you sure you want to act like that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”
Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 
Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 
You know what she’d choose.
Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 
No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 
Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.
“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”
“As long as you—”
“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 
She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.
The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.
Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.
It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?
Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 
“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”
She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 
“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”
There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.
You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 
But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 
The tears finally fall from her eyes. 
The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.
Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.
Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.
Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.
So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.
Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.
Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.
You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.
“Daddy… daddy…” 
Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.
“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 
She nods. Good girl.
Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.
Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.
Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.
“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”
Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 
Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.
Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.
“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”
Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.
“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”
Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”
Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 
Minju got what she wanted in the end.
-
The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 
It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 
“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 
She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.
And you?
You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”
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suguru-getos · 2 months
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“they’ll kill you!” — “can they?”
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satosugu x reader — cnc
warnings: cnc!, degradation, prone!bone, doggy, use of toys, clamps, spreader, spankings. aftercare <3 pls note that it’s not beta’d there might be typos xx 💋
you were tired as you returned from work, footsteps dragging across from the stairs to finally reach the bedroom of the sato-sugu estate. this was the least thrilling bit of your day, no one was home. satoru was busy with a mission & suguru was outside — doing you don’t know what. you don’t question the morality of your husband number two. you’ve learnt to let him be in his element, just like satoru.
opening the refrigerator, you found satoru’s mochi, suguru’s favorite soup & a little bit of leftovers from the morning lunch prepared by the chef. they’re also on leave & at this point you’re conflicted between using the ordering in app in your phone, or cooking something for yourself. a grunt escapes you as you weigh down the options and settle down on the marvelous wood sculpted chair of the dining table. scrolling aimlessly through the various restaurants to get something that you desire. fucking hell! why is ordering food such a daunting task! when satoru and suguru return, you’d bother them & be clingy endlessly just cause you miss their brainless bickering. satoru would be just as aimless like you, fumbling through the menu and debating on what to order… suguru would have the same thing eaten on repeat. so much so that it annoys the both of you.
speaking of — it goes without saying how many ‘enemies’ your husbands have. one is a special grade sorcerer, the other is a bloody cult leader. both of them jacked & bagged with heaps of copius amounts of money & status in their own ways. you’re their silly little wife, someone capable of becoming a sorcerer, someone who could see curses and cursed spirits, yet choosing a life like nanami kento. a life away from the wretched world of sorcery.
a thud, takes your attention away from your phone a bit. who could it be? there are cats in the estate which are regularly fed, it could be your son (your cat that you and your husbands cherish equally). you roll your eyes and go back to checking the menu. fuck this, if you don’t have any ideas on what to order, you will order some spicy cheesy ramen & get go with your day.
after placing the order, you dragged yourself to the bathroom to take a shower, it would be better before bed after all, sleeping in plush clean pillows and letting your body heat come down as the cold water would drench your worries away.
your phone vibrated before you could take another step to the bedroom, it was suguru, “oh hey…” you chirped, smiling over the phone. “hey darling, reached home?” he sounds cheerful, mostly when he hears your voice of course. you’ve noticed suguru talks to you in the most gentlest of ways; enough to sound patronising at times. you know its not his intention though… “yeah, just reached home. when are you n’ toru coming?” you pouted over the speaker, and he chuckled. “give me an hour or two and i’ll be right there, next to my beautiful angel. mm?” you gnaw at your lip, nodding gently, the realization coming later that he can’t really ‘see’ your response and you hummed, “yeah, come soon to me mkay?”
where were you again? ah… the shower…
the doorbell rang, your eyes instantly mingling with the lit screen of your watch as you turned your wrist. jeez, it had only been 15 minutes or so since you ordered, the food is here so soon? you checked your phone, and the order was still showing ‘preparing’ status. weird… who could it be?
you walked towards the entrance, and the knock was more powerful, almost angry sounding & impatient. “who’s there?” you raised a brow, sighing a little to gather your patience and also your wits.
no answer…
then, the door was knocked off the hinges, you shrieked almost, walking backwards and pupils moving in fear. what was even happening? there were two men, one of them had bangs and the other white haired and scary looking. he smirked, walking closer to you and holding your face instantly, squeezing your cheeks into a forced pucker. “dumb little thing can’t even open a door? jeez?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.
the dude with bangs held his shoulder, a knowing, close-eyed smile. “leave it be, she must be their weakling of a wife, gojo.”
he nodded, “weakling indeed, look at how she’s cowering.” he chuckled, leaning in and licking a fat strip of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear. you wince, struggling and trying hard to push him away. “SWOP IT!” you whined, the grip on your cheek turning harder and making it difficult to sound coherent.
“swop it!” gojo mimicks you, pushing you a little as he lets you go. “ we were here to steal the cursed tools but we might as well do some cursed thingys, no?” he snickered, and you shake your head, nauseated as your heart raced and you leaned back, unlucky enough to be stopped by a wall.
“m-my husbands- will be home soon… if you really care about your lives then leave!” you sounded as intimidating as possible, trying so hard to evade the bone crushing anxiety that the two powerful men were giving. “of course, we’d be gone by then.” the man with bangs replied, ignoring you and looking around. “nice house, your husbands don’t care about you enough it seems, why else would they leave their little wife alone in such a looming, large place?”
“shut up! even if you leave they’d hunt you down and they’d find you! suguru can deploy curses that are exceptional in hunting people down.” you only have your husbands and their skills to protect you right now. “did you hear that geto? she’s so mouthy and has such an attitude, damn!”
“about time we show her the world isn’t a good place… also, with a body like that? she’s practically asking for it.” the black haired man — geto, chuckled, rolling his eyes and walking closer.
your mind was hazy by now, and all you could see was the corridor to make a run to. you do exactly that, and how stupid— it took gojo exactly four steps to catch up to you by your hair and chuckle at your screaming. “let me go! let me go!” you winced, letting your feet dragged back to the couch. “would be fun to ruin her at this point.” geto hums, crossing his arms & smirking at the way you shake your head no, pleading almost.
“in the same bed her bastard husbands make sweet sweet love to her.” gojo chuckles, “aww, don’t look at us like thaatt? i’m sure they would understand that boobs like that would get ya into trouble.” gojo winked, smirking.
“ass, too.” geto added, smirking gently.
“piss off and die, rot in hell and fucking die!” you snarled, tearing up at the way they talked about you. “can’t handle them mouthy tell ya that.” gojo sounded almost feigning apologetic, bringing out a handkerchief out from his pocket and holding both ends diagonally.
you were about to be gagged, terror seeped through your eyes as you shook your head. but geto was faster, immediately hindering all your resistance by keeping you locked. his hands quickly wrapping around your wrist and holding it behind your back, his legs wrapping around yours, spreading your thighs apart vulnerably.
"aw good one!" gojo comments, smirking and walking closer. "stop it, stop it right now!" you screeched, using your last chance to speak anything at all. gojo came closer, tying the handkerchief across the parting of your lips. only incoherent struggles and whines could escape you now.
"there we go, perfect little muzzled bitch." gojo chuckled, and you teared up at that statement, it was humiliating to have two men out here, having their way with you in the absence of your husbands. you hated the way it made you feel, how the proximity with geto was making your pelvis warm, and your insides... warm.
"she's crying... stop being so mean. maybe we can call satoru to help her? maybe he can coax and coddle her while we ruin her?" you widened your eyes at that insinuation, shaking your head no and muffled groans escaping you.
gojo chuckled, "aw, she wouldn't want that? why? scared they'd abandon you cause your insides changed shape to our cocks?" he smirked, "no worries sweetheart, we could hire you as our personal cocksleeve."
you glared at the man, not saying anything and saliva dribbling down your chin. "only if she's a good cocksleeve though" geto hums, shrugging. "don't get the special treatment if you're not good enough. or not tight enough."
"time to check!" gojo rubs his palms together, walking closer with eyes fucking you already. his hands are quick to rip off any clothing off of you, your cunt and your tits exposed to the two strangers and the cool air of the mansion.
it felt humiliating, all bare in front of two merciless, wolf like men who only want to ruin you. "would teach those two a lesson too, no?" geto mused and gojo nodded, "yeah, think they own the fuckin' world? now what? your wife knocked up by two strangers.."
"ruined, by two strangers." geto corrected gojo.
"ahhng- nn" you tried to manage to speak, unable to say anything coherent at all. only wiggling in resistance. you stop once you feel geto's semi nudge your ass though. this could do more harm than good.
"oh god she's grindin' already?" gojo smirked, walking closer and crossing his arms. "let's take her to the bedroom." they nodded, reaching that decision fast enough. when geto relents his hold on you, you're quick to hit his jaw with your head, feet landing aiming right at gojo's crotch. he holds your ankle and geto laughs, "couldn't even give me a nose-bleed, little one?"
you're the most terror-struck as you've ever been. you fucked up. pupils moving and heart racing. no way these two would let your silly little stunt go.
"she needs proper taming i'm telling you. like literally..." gojo laughs, almost looking impressed. "bend her over the couch."
"actually, i have a better plan" suguru muses, while your heart only gives out at the prospect of them discussing what to do with you. you hate how it's making you feel down there, and pretty sure they'd see that soon when your body betrays you.
gojo and geto only knowingly smile at each other, as if they were easily able to read the other's mind and they stride towards the bedroom. once you're placed on bed, this time gojo forces you on all fours, ignoring your whines and hand gripping your nape as he nails you to the bed. geto seems to be searching for toys you and your husbands indulge in from time to time.
he lets out an "aha!" when he finds them, smirking and taking out the clamps, the cuffs, the spreader, and the vibrator. your hands are cuffed behind your back and the spreader keeps your legs from closing. you are truly under their mercy now.
"mmgh mmf" you really wish you could do something, anything about it... "is that fucking cunt wet?" gojo is quick to dehumanize you for it, laughing. "don't tell me they've been pampering a slut as their wife?" it stings, his words sting and you close your eyes in disgust, a feeble attempt at closing your legs not gone unnoticed.
"why else would she be so embarrassed?" geto smirks. attaching the clamps to your nipples with some weights. satosugu have never tried the weights and the delicious tug on your tits only makes you whine more. he flicks the weights to let it jiggle like a pendulum and you cry out at the feeling. shuddering and whimpering at how your pussy clamps around nothing because of it.
"don't think this is enough, she needs proper punishment for trying to hit us." gojo scoffed, using the clamp right at your clit after testing it on his hand. you let out a surprised shriek, struggling with all your might against it, though you realize that would only worsen the ache in your tits. your pussy oozed out in your juices and fluttered as they bit your clit just right.
geto nods, slapping the fat of your bare ass with his hand, letting his handprint break out in a single hit. they really weren't playing around. every hit after that, makes you lurch forward, and makes the clamps wiggle and makes you cry out. gojo chuckles, watching your ass bruise with the spanking now. you lost count after ten, in your head, but you feel your mind float away, it's around 18 hits or so, that geto stops, when your whines and screams turn soft and dejected. when you give up.
you're so edged but the clamp on your clit wouldn't let you cum. "look at her, finally can't resist anymore?" he smirked, and upon not receiving a response, gojo tugs at your clit-clamp's chain a little. you cry out in pain, finally letting him remove the clamps altogether.
"yeah, finally someone's learnt how to behave." he smirked, and your whines turned into wheezing when the blood flow rushed back to your tits and clit, swathing you in a coughing fit as you choke on your spit. "oh jeez, calm down..." gojo scoffed, removing the gag from your mouth and watching the imprints of it on your face.
"you okay?" he's looking sympathetic and worried, and at the first chance of getting to speak again, you snap. "you're a fucking bastard with no manliness of your own, bet you don't even have a cock half as big as satoru"
he smirked again, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "the gag goes back on it seems." he looked at geto who shrugged, "no, let her scream when she realizes we're bigger and better than her husbands." before you could resist, you could feel the spread in your cunt lips from his fingers and the splitting apart sensation of his cock inside you.
crying out at the feeling, edged beyond belief, your cunt immediately hugs him down, his hand quick to un-do your cuffs and pulling you closer, letting your back collide against his chest as he drills your poor pussy apart, rutting without a single thread of restraint.
gojo only watches your breasts jiggle and jump at every thrust, leaning in and wrapping his warm mouth around the tortured, perked bud. his tongue languidly soothes over the bite mark of the clamp and he suckles, one hand pinching and kneading your tits to ensure the blood flow is back, the other rubbing circles at your clit. he undoes your spreader finally.
you moan like a whore indeed, this feels too good, you hate how good it feels and you despise how your senses are burning at this. the knot in your pelvis snaps and you gush all over geto's cock like a needy little girl, sending him reeling down also. you shake your head, the prospect of his warmth inside your cunt only makes you hate it further, "no- no no don't cum inside NO DON'T!" you cry out, shaking your head as his palm covers your mouth, muffling any cries as he churns your pussy by tucking and thrusting his load deeper.
you gasped and cried once geto finally comes to a halt. shoving you into a prone bone. "hey i'll take over, let her husbands discover a cum cocktail inside." gojo snickers, watching your body limping after the first orgasm as his cock shoves inside you easily, pistoning like a needy dog in a rut. the thrusts are powerful enough to feel like spanks of their own, and you only moan and whimper crudely; gritting your jaw at how amazing it feels and crumpling the mattress into your fists. this should not feel good... this should not feel this good. you're a cheater... your husbands would hate you.
"say what if they knew you had no problem cumming on our cocks?" geto chuckled watching you glance up at him teary eyed. "i hate this, i don't- AH" your sentences are reduced to moans already, and he chuckles.
the force on your tummy with the mattress nudged against it, and gojo's precise thrusts makes you twitch again. "uh uh... she's clamping again." he smirked at geto, "couldn't ask for permission from me, make sure she knows how to behave well now."
“we’ll just spank her swollen little clit this time around then” gojo smirked, and you widened your eyes in fear. your husbands long established that you only like it in a certain degree. these strangers knew nothing about you. you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “no- no- stop it.” before long, you we’re trying your best to squirm away from him, only getting locked in a headlock though, when gojo’s hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back.
“then ask for permission…” he laughs, only rutting deeper and more spitefully. your eyes are losing focus and you can sense your pelvis tightening, the familiar knot in your gut was about to snap again. “would rather fucking die!” you managed to put up a fight again, though your body betrays you again & you’re tipping off the edge. gojo’s timed thrusts against your gspot made you squirt a little. absolutely humiliating…
“oh oh not only did she came she fuckin’ squirted on another man’s cock? do you wanna be our hired cocksleeve that bad?” he muses, filling you up with his seed, his jaw muscles are tightened at the way your pussy takes him… while, you’re getting light headed with the headlock & the orgasm, eyes losing focus and mouth agape.
before your mind could register anything else, geto has you manhandled, holding your legs apart by hooking his arms under your knees and then holding your wrists as he gravely whispered, “told you to ask for permission, brat.”
“n- no no- no no no no no please please” you’re shaking your head, thrown off your post orgasm bliss instantly and shuddering, “no please please…”
“no please- please…” gojo mocks, slapping across your swollen cunt instantly. you cry out and wince, tearing up once again & reducing to weak sniffling. “no- no-” you resist and cry out.
he raises his hand again, feigning another hit and observing you flinch, close your eyes and look to the side, bracing. you look up when he doesn’t hit though…
“give me another orgasm on my cock since you’re so eager.” he hums, and your mind has just about had it. your body has had quite a ride filled with different emotions & a squirting orgasm. you shake your head no, biting my lip. “no.” you looked at gojo, and he raises a brow, “no?”
“no” you pouted, sniffling a little. “my husbands are coming soon, gonna kick your ass. they’ll kill you.”
“would they?” suguru hums, relenting his grip on your feet and your body, craddling you closer to him and leaning you against his chest, peppering your face with soft, tender kisses. you sniffle & nodded, “mm~ yeah…”
satoru sighs, pouting, “you okay? princess?” he’s shaking a little, hoping you don’t end up hating him. “you’re okay?” he asks again, pouty and looking like a kicked puppy. “i was so mouthy wasn’t i?” he’s about to spiral. “no it was so fun.” you snicker, looking at him with a huge grin. a huge wave of relief washes over his face as he pulls you from suguru, holding you plush and kissing all over your face, your lips, passionately running his hands through your hair.
“good girl, gosh you handled it so well.” he muses, suguru humming, kissing satoru’s forehead and yours. “my angel, you were so good you know that? we didn’t mean anything we said, you know that right?” he soothes over your ass. you nodded, “mm~ yeah, i know daddy.” you coo, kissing his cheek.
“good, good… fuck- never again!” satoru scoffs, pouting big and harsh. “i know he’d say that.” you chuckled and looked at suguru, who nodded, tight lipped. “uh… i second that.”
you nodded, you knew both of them were indulging only because you read a fanfiction of one of your favorite characters and wanted to try. “fine, fine… i’m the one who should behaved traumatized!” you chuckled, and they pout together.
“oh please i was about to break character so many times, i knew you would kick my ass so i didn’t.” suguru hums, nuzzling his nose against you. “OH YEAH SAME!” satoru dramatically yells, “when she coughed i was about to lose it oh gods no-”
“let’s take a shower…” you coax their conversation, kissing both their foreheads.
“alright…”
“i love you both.” you mumbled, loopy and so subby.
“we love you too!” they hummed together, kissing your cheek.
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