#THEY PLAYED IT THEY FUCKING PLAYED IT LIVE
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partiallysame · 3 days ago
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Price’s lil Wife Poly!141
Price’s rules for the boys
- work and home are separate. He can not stress this enough. No call signs used in the house. No ghost mask (told Simon this the very first time he met you. No mask. Not now. Not ever)
- soap used “gaz” once and price made him run laps around the neighborhood (the other housewives loved it)
- No talking about any mission any op. Complaining about recruits or higher ups was allowed. Only can talk about what happened on base.
- The missus was kind and pure and he would not let the type of work they do reach her
- When it came to what could and could not be done physically that was fully up to you “stop asking me. It’s her bloody body for christs sake” after the thousandth awkward “can I please fuck The Missus tonight 👉🏻👈🏻”
- If you wanted one of them one night? Just fine. All of them one night? Also fine
- In fact most things in this new relationship were completely up to you. If they stayed/lived in extra rooms, what they called you, how often and how they got to touch you
- Other than the No Work rule the only other thing Price (tried) to put his foot down on was “if she sends you a voice message. Don’t. Fucking. Open. It. In. Public” well that just seems weird now doesn’t it? No lil Mrs price was a lil tease and now she has more men to mess with????
- Only a week or so in to this whole thing Johnny was the first to get one and did he forget or just choose to ignore Price’s rule? The world may never know but he pressed play (full volume bc men always have their volume up for no reason) and the sweet sounds of you moaning his name played so fucking loud in the grocery store. The rest of the boys made the same mistake. Price tried to warn them, he really did.
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outerhills · 2 days ago
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buzzcuts 𐙚₊˚⊹♡
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rafe cameron + insatiable!kook!reader
warnings: mdni 18+, smut, buzzcut rafe, p in v, making out, cumming inside, cocky rafe, slapping (it happens like twice), use of "daddy" (only once), choking, squirting, reader and rafe live together
word count: 1.3k
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you had been suggesting he get a haircut for about a week now, and of course he avoided listening to you to piss you off. he knew you were a spoiled little princess who always got what she wanted, and always thought she was right about shit.
which is ironic because he spoiled you along with everyone else.
there you sat in a silky pink nightie that sat just at the top of your thighs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as you watched television on the flatscreen of your bedroom. of course you sat around all day doing nothing, you could afford to when your boyfriend wanted to do everything in order to stroke his ego. paying the bills, buying all of your clothes, whatever he could to make sure you couldn't shit talk him for anything.
considering he was out this late, you knew he was with his friends; he wasn't stupid enough to cheat on someone like you, he knew better.
but he also had been gone all day.
there wasn't much he could have been doing, since the last time you saw him was early the morning of before he left the house.
so, where the fuck was he all day?
you weren't crazy, you had better things to do than to blow up his phone and track his every move; but he'd definitely hear an ear full once he got home.
and of course you were more than prepared to talk his ear off once you heard the slam of a truck door, mouth practically watering to complain.
you'd lay in the bed, arms crossed, letting him come to you.
though that wasn't the case anymore once rafe stepped into the dimly lit bedroom with a freshly buzzed haircut, arms almost too large for the sleeves of the polo he wore.
your demeanor had completely shifted, shifting from a thick irritation, to a dying thirst, the folds of your cunt practically pooling at the sight.
not only did he look delicious, but you loved being listened to.
no, you weren't gonna let him win so easily.
"you've been out late," you coughed, rolling your eyes as your arms remained crossed. he gave a scoff, a smirk on his face. "don't start your shit, you know I was with topper and kelce." you gave a short huff, looking away from him.
it was hard maintaining the attitude when all you wanted to do was give him the sloppiest sucks of his life.
he walked over to you, his large hand holding your chin with a tight grip, forcing you to look into his eyes, but of course that smug smirk tugged at his lips when he saw how your eyes dilated.
"you play pretend, but you can't resist me."
rolling your eyes, you spoke softly. "i see you listened to me."
"mhm. don't get too used to that."
he walked into the bathroom of the master bedroom, the door open as he turned on the light and slipped off his shirt, revealing his toned body underneath, his arms even more visible as you looked out of your peripheral. rafe ran the shower, not before he caught the little side glances you gave him, a self satisfied grin on his face.
- - - - -
as the water turned off and rafe wrapped himself in a towel, he stood in the bathroom shaving off any amount of stubble he could find on his face.
there you stood, a sultry look in your gaze as you leaned against the bathroom doorframe.
"fuck..." was all that passed through your thoughts as you looked at him and his haircut. it sharpened his features even more, giving him an intimidating, almost mean appearance. instinctively, your legs squeezed together, the wetness of your folds damping your legs as there no barrier to keep it from dripping slightly.
"you're staring princess," he spoke in a husky tone, cutting off your thoughts. you walked over unfazed, standing in front of him as his broad figure towered over you, his bottom half still wrapped in his towel as he pulled you close to him by your waist.
you didn't speak, but your gaze said everything as you ran your manicured nails through the prickly strands of his buzzcut, slightly biting down on your bottom lip.
"i take it you like the haircut," he smirked, his free hand lowering to grip onto your ass.
"shut up." you didn't want to boost his ego even more than it already was, the tension building as you stood close enough to feel his body heat, your eyes drifting to his toned chest as your hands remained in his hair, the tip of your tongue darting out to lick your lips.
without a word, you pulled him by his hand to the bedroom, sitting him onto the edge of the bed as you straddled on top of him.
immediately, you captured his lips with your own into a heated, wet kiss. his tongue forced his way into your mouth as his hands found the curves of your waist, holding you in place.
"you look so fucking sexy rafe." the praise was breathy and brief as you grazed your wet lips over his before capturing him in another heated kiss.
"mhm, im knowin' it," he said lowly, smirking into the make out you were having. out of impulse, his fingers trailed between your legs as your straddled on his lap, his breathing heavy as he pulled back to see the sweet wetness you left all over his hand.
"look at this, all wet fa' me," he taunted, his other hand gripping your chin as he forced you to look at his drenched fingers.
"that's what happens when you listen to me you fucking idiot." it was in a flash that you felt a harsh sting to your cheek, rafe grabbing your chin once again forcing you to stare back into his darkening eyes, his jaw tightened.
"i don't think you have the right to be smart with me angel, when you're the one soaking up my lap."
"dont fucking sl-", and he did it again. "it's the only way to shut you up baby."
you definitely didn't want to egg him on, but the sheer force he used against you had your cunt dripping, the towel wrapped on his waist collecting the droplets.
and the feeling was mutual, as his swollen hard cock was constricted by the soft towel on his waist.
it was then that you removed the towel from his waist, almost moving to kneel before him until he restricted you by your thighs.
"don't bother." with a swift movement, he sinked your cunt fully onto his thick cock, giving you no time to adjust as he practically ripped you apart with his harsh thrusts. both of you let out breathy moans, rafe letting out a low groan as he gripped onto your neck.
"move princess, don't make me do all the work," he scoffed, his grip on your throat tightening.
you let out a small cough as he choked you, bouncing on his hot cock as the veins of his thick length scraped at your tight walls.
it was nothing unusual to go from such a soft intimacy to his cock now kissing your cervix as you rode him, your slick cunt gushing against him as he held you by your throat.
he pulled you close to him, capturing you into a passionate kiss as his hands rested on the jelly like curves of your pillowy ass cheeks.
you had pushed him back onto the bed, your manicured nails scraping his chest, causing him to let out a deep groan.
"fuck, im gonna-"
"do it baby, come all on me."
but it wasn't just cum as you threw your head back.
"ahhh, fuck~" you moaned, your body convulsing as you squirted all over him, his own cum mixing with your juices as your cunt clenched around him.
softly, you fell back onto the bed beside him as you pulled off his cock.
he let out a faint chuckle, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he looked at the juicy mess you made. "if i knew a haircut would have gotten me pussy, i woulda' done it sooner."
"that's what happens when you listen daddy."
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prokopetz · 3 days ago
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"But doesn't having a notion of 'balanced' combat inherently imply that all combat encounters are expected to be fair and winnable" well, no – it implies only that the GM has the ability to know whether a given combat encounter is fair and winnable.
There's a story that's been going around for decades about a Dungeons & Dragons party who encountered a large room full of treasure while exploring a dungeon. Immediately suspicious, they asked their GM a series of detailed questions about the room, but no obvious dangers were identified. Satisfied, they moved into the room – and were immediately set upon and eaten by the dragon that had been sitting atop the pile of treasure the whole time, which the GM hadn't mentioned because the players never specifically asked about the presence of living creatures within the room.
While this is obviously an extreme and ridiculous case, it illustrates an important point: as GM, you're the group's eyes and ears. If you don't describe something, the player characters literally can't see it – that dragon was effectively invisible from their perspective. The trick is that active malice isn't the only way to invisible-dragon your players; a group can also find themselves invisible-dragoned because the GM simply failed to provide sufficient information for the risk in question to be identified. This can happen through neglect, but it can also happen because the GM themself was unaware that the risk was present.
Now, hold on, you might be saying: the GM "plays" the entire world. How is it possible for the GM not to know that a risk is present? Well, that brings us back around to the subject of combat balance.
A game in which "balanced" combat is a meaningful thing to discuss is typically going to be one in which both the players and the GM are actually making strategic, tactical, and/or logistical decisions, rather than merely producing a description of their characters making such decisions. Without a good handle on the interplay of these decisions, it's completely possible for the GM to be wrong about the level of risk the scenario they've constructed entails.
That's actually pretty critical, because even if you don't care about the game being fair and winnable (and that's a perfectly valid stance), your players are still depending on you to be their eyes and ears, and to give them enough information to make good decisions about whether the fight in front of them is one they can win. A game where not every fight is expected to be winnable needs to be a game where the players have the opportunity to walk away.
No matter how objective you try to be, your own sense of the answer to that question is inevitably going to colour how you communicate about it. You being wrong about the level of risk at hand inherently increases the chance that your players will make bad choices. The party eating a TPK because they made a stupid decision is one thing; the party eating a TPK because they made a decision that looked reasonable from their perspective based on your unwitting miscommunication of the level of risk involved is quite another!
Sure, once the dice hit the table I'm probably going to realise that I fucked up, and I can adjust things on the fly to bring the level of risk that's actually present in line with the level of risk I communicated – but that's extra work I don't need with everything else that's on my plate. And that's a best-case scenario; if I'm running the game for a hardcore let-the-dice-fall-where-they-may group (and such groups tend to have a pretty significant overlap with groups that are cool with not every fight being winnable), I may not be able to adjust the fight's parameters on the fly without violating the social contract of the table.
Basically, whenever I see an OSR game with tactically crunchy combat brag about how its author never even thinks about "balance", what that's telling me is that running this game is going to create a whole lot of extra work for me as a GM. This is not a selling point.
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rowanashings · 13 hours ago
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Reblogging again cause my bestie literally sent it to me like it wasn’t something I said already
the real danger of spending too much time with friends is you stumble out of ten days of happiness and good food like oh my god THAT was real life. my job means NOTHING
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cowgirlvi · 2 days ago
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mdni.   cam-girl jinx.   loser-ish reader.   sex toys.   squirting. based off this ask.
wc; 1,476
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you make sure to get home from work most days at precisely 5:00 PM—enough time to wash off the dirt and grime of the day in a quick shower, throw together a rushed meal, and settle in front of your computer by 6:30. your routine is second nature by now, the anticipation building as you watch the minutes tick by before jinx appears on screen.
jinx streams every other day, always at the same time, and you're careful never to be late. the moment her stream goes live, the screen fills with a warm glow. it illuminates her petite frame as she sits on her bed, poised and teasing. tonight, she wears a dark brown leather belt across her chest, cinched just enough to lift her small breasts, showing off her blue cloud tattoos. the worn leather is barely covering the soft, pink shade of her tiny nipples.
she has such a thin piece of fabric decorating her hips that you wouldn’t have even noticed it, if not for the way the black, lacy thong contrasts against her pale skin. she’s striking—utterly mesmerizing—and every movement is deliberate as she shifts, adjusting herself before flashing a sly smile at the camera.
the chat chirps with excitement when she leans in, offering a loud, enthusiastic greeting to her supporters. there’s an undeniable, mischievous confidence in the way she carries herself—a playful allure mixed with an effortless intimacy that only strokes the flames of your parasocial relationship with her.
heartseekerjinx: hi gorgeous!!!
spaceprincessjinx: you look so sexy, jinx <3
user3263288412: give us a show already.
jinx’s stream requires a hefty membership access fee, but you’d pay anything just to see her.
“hmmm,” she trails her fingers down the taut, creamy skin of stomach until they reach her panties. she toys with the lacy hem, saying, “i’ve been needing to play with my pussy all day . . . but i was waiting for you.”
you gasp. it feels like she’s speaking to you directly. you know you must stand out to her the most compared to her other subscribers, with the way you spam her with donations, flooding her chat with desperate compliments. she has to remember you.
you unbutton your jeans hurriedly, pushing your pants down your thighs and then you stuff your hand inside your underwear. you’re completely soaked already, as if jinx put a spell on you—on all her viewers. that would explain the all-consuming loyalty you feel towards her.
jinx plucks a sleek, blue vibrator from her toy basket, the one that’s directly attached to her many donations, where each contribution controls its intensity. it might be your favorite toy of hers. you enjoy the way her viewers can set the pace—how you can set the pace. of course, you love watching her stuff monstrous dildos inside her pussy too, but there’s something so intimate about being the one to force her to feel good, despite the distance between you two.
jinx plants her feet on the bed, spreading her knees. she turns the toy on, and then she hooks a finger in the crotch of her thong, pulling the thin frantic to the side so hundreds of eyes can see her glistening, pink pussy. she rubs the vibrator against her clit for a moment, groaning softly at the stimulation, and then pushes the bean-shaped toy inside her hole.
”oh fuck, look how wet i am for you,” jinx whines, staring up at the webcam. she looks tantalizing from underneath her thick lashes.
biting your lip in anticipation, you donate $20 without a second thought—just enough to speed up the vibrations of the toy slightly. jinx gasps on screen, surprised that she received a donation so quickly. she leans in to read off her computer screen, recognizing your username instantly and snickering.
purring your display-name like a cat, she says, “thank you, mydarlingjinx. you always take, ahh, such good care of me.”
you feel an immense sense of pride fill your chest. you love taking care of jinx, making her feel good, and you wish you could take things further. you often fantasize about laying her up in your bed, pulling off the skimpy clothes adorning her body, rubbing your hands all across her smooth skin, playing with her small breasts.
you know you could make her feel so good, stuffing her full of dildos and other phallic-shaped objects from her toy box, playing with every single one of her holes like you know she needs, pushing her to the brink of pleasure in ways that would leave her crying. her box of toys is filled with possibilities, each one capable of pulling the sweetest reactions from her. you can picture it so clearly; the way she'd squirm as you explore every inch of her skin—teasing, stretching, biting, filling. she craves it, you know she does—her slutty body was made for this sort of thing.
the speed of the toy is relatively fast now, but jinx keeps her composure—or at least, she tries to. she continues flirting with the camera, dedicated to keeping her supporters entertained. “unnghh—do you like watching me play with my pussy? i bet, ahh, you’re touching yourself too, huh?”
your breath hitches. it feels like a direct challenge, one you’re all too eager to accept. you type a quick response in chat, confirming her suspicions, and she giggles, her laughter raspy and sweet.
mydarlingjinx: yes you look so cute jinx!
”i knew it,” she coos. “i wish you were here—mmgh! you’d feel so much better—aghh—than this dumb toy.”
holy shit.
your pulse pounds in your ears. she wishes you were touching her, that you were the one making her feel this good. it’s almost too much for you to handle. your fingers fumble over your keyboard as you send another donation, barely registering the amount before the confirmation pops up. you're not the only one—her other viewers flood the chat with their own desperate contributions, the collective need to see her fall apart pushing the toy's vibrations even higher.
”unghh! please, ohh, slow down—i can’t t-take it, mmmf!” jinx squeals, which only entices you to send another donation.
her magenta eyes are trying to flutter closed and it seems like she can barely keep her legs open, but she has to give her viewers a show—it’s what they paid for, after all. so she hooks her elbows under her knees, forcing her legs to stay spread open so everyone can see the way her sweet pussy is gushing more and more arousal out of her little hole, trailing down to her heart-shaped ass.
her makeup is ruined—messy, dark eyeshadow running down her face, black cherry lipstick smudged around her chin, her tongue lolling out like a dumb dog. she looks completely debauched, and yet, she pushes herself further. 
your fingers are moving with newfound desperation inside your underwear, awestruck by the sight of jinx unraveling. every labored breath, every twitch of her delicate frame is a testament to just how close she is to reaching her breaking point, how desperate her pussy is to finally orgasm, to release more heavenly juices from her hole—and it’s all because of you.
the realization is dizzying, a fire pooling deep in your stomach as you drink in the sight of how utterly ruined and overwhelmed your girl is.
“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—!” jinx is repeating like a mantra, her raspy voice hitching with every syllable. “baby, ohh, i’m coming—hngggf!”
and then she goes crosseyed, nails digging into the skin of thighs hard enough to make her bleed. her back arches as she tips over the edge, pushing out her perky tits further. jinx squirts harshly from her pussy and you can see the powerful contractions of her hole as it pushes the blue toy out.
the vibrator falls onto the plush sheets of jinx’s bed with a bounce, but her orgasm continues. she’s trembling, her skin is clearly buzzing with electricity, and you think she looks like an angel.
the sight of her—shaking like a leaf and moaning whorishly—completely undoes you. heat coils tightly in your core before snapping like a rubber band all at once. a deep, shuddering wave of pleasure rolls through your entire body, your muscles tense and your fingers clenching as your breath catches in your throat. the intensity of your orgasm leaves you momentarily weightless. a full-body shiver overtakes you, every nerve alight with warmth and satisfaction.
your mind turns hazy, the world around you blurring until all that remains is her—jinx, who is sprawled out against her plush bedsheets, her chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, and her lips parted in a lazy, drunk smile.
jinx came because of you, and you because of her. it’s irrevocably intimate and she has no idea.
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taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala, @ellieslob, @idontwannabehereatm, @rhian88, @kyur1jinx, @vivispace, @girlbeatings
(2/11/25)
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jinxvex · 1 day ago
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omg haiii :3 #1 i just found your account and i love your works! the way you write is just… mwahmwahmwah. besides that! i’d love it if u could do a jinx x reader where reader is lowkey oblivious but jinx is super obvious with how much she wants to fuck… and when she finally gets to hit she degrades and dumbifies reader… orrrr am i just thirsty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
♱ fantasy. ♱
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oh girl this is sexy trust, WE IS THIRSTY TEW!! also thank you, you’re so sweet!! i’m glad you enjoy my works :))
syp. the first time jinx set her glowy shimmer-charged eyes on you, she knew she had to have you—and she always gets what she wants. no matter that you were friends and you were oblivious to her constantly undressing you with her eyes, fighting her urges to completely ruin, defile, and destroy you. you’d come to realize soon enough.
cw: nsfw content!!, dom!jinx plotting on that p***y (lol), sub!reader (i'm a switch!jinx truther but let me cook...), a lot of degrading + dumbification, cursing, dirty talk, some praise, teasing, mocking, she forces you to take it!!, mentions of oral/fingering/gun-play, strap-on sex, hair-pulling, pet names (toots, hon, babe, baby, bunny, etc?), possessiveness, nastiness galore (lord forgive me!), reader’s past sex life is purposefully written to be vague, + prob more
wc: 4.2k!!
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jinx’s fantasies involving you started a month ago when she was off roaming the rowdy streets of the undercity for a market sale. well, before it. she had begrudgingly taken up silco’s orders to keep tabs on the shipment coming in and out before the market opened to the public. for what? ‘who freakin’ knows?!’ she thought.
in retrospect, jinx was never an overly sexual person. she understood what it was, why people participated in it, and her own sexual preferences but she’d never devoted much time to finding someone to fuck or to fuck her for that matter. she's fucked before, but that was it. plunging her long, slender fingers into her own cunt while reading a racy scene in a shitty romance novel was enough to get her rocks off. she figured something was missing but she brushed it off.
her mind was… elsewhere most of the time.
(a month ago...)
lost in her thoughts, per usual, jinx doesn’t see you standing in all your beautiful glory. she walks right past you, eyes darting along everything she can see to accurately take in the information silco wants her to report back to him. she's still preoccupied with the inner workings of her mind and not too much with the zaunite public.
well, that's bound to change one way or another.
suddenly, she's stopping dead in her tracks. something's changed. the air feels charged, full of opportunity and something else. curly lines, shapes, and colorful graphics fill her vision—overwhelming but she feels as though she can really see clearly for the first time.
her nostrils catch a whiff of something… sweet. inviting. like freshly baked cookies although it's almost incomparable to how truly delectable the scent is. she's taken by surprise at the smell of something so good, good enough to eat, to devour. she’s never smelt anything or anyone so delicious. it intrigued her beyond belief, she knew that whatever it was, she was going to have that thing.
that’s when in her own self-induced frenzy she'd caused by frantically turning and thrashing around to look for where the smell led her, she sees you for the first time. as radiant as ever.
everything's in slow motion.
you're leaning up against a metal post and speaking to a market vendor, your voice as sweet as ever chatting to them about ‘who the fuck cares’. your smile is the brightest she’d ever seen living in a place full of drug addicts, violence, and poverty like you’ve never been subjected to zaun in your entire life.
she watches as you flip your hair to one side, hips swaying and fingers twiddling against your satchel. she watches you so intently, that she can see your eyes blinking slowly, she can count your individual eyelashes and remember the number for the rest of her life.
to say the least, jinx is enamored by the sight of you, let alone your smell. images of how good you'd look naked, and what your skin would feel like against hers cloud her vision, creating the perfect first impression of you in her mind. she looks further at you, specifically your ass and the jeans hugging it perfectly as well as the curve of your hips. the veins in your neck travel further down beneath your shirt and she can't help but wonder what your chest would look like.
bare.
before this moment, she'd never thought of somebody in such a vulgar light; it put her in a state of shock. she let her mind wander even farther off into jinx-landia and she imagines what it would feel like to slide her fingers into your pussy and press the pads of them onto your g-spot. she wants to know what it feels like to feel you get wetter and wetter and what it feels like to make out with your pussy—to push your own juices into your mouth and kiss you dumb. she thinks about testing how deep your cunt could get—how pretty your ass would look riding a cock, tits bouncing in the air.
controlling herself was something jinx always had problems with, so she isn't surprised when she is unable to stop herself from approaching you. her feet seem to be dragging themselves towards you like some sort of magnetic force.
“hiya, toots,” spills from her lips before she can even stop and think about what she's doing.
you pause your conversation with whomever you're speaking to, looking over in her direction to find her staring intently at you. confused and a little petrified, you stand up straighter, as you aren't expecting silco’s adoptive daughter to be staring you down at the beginning of some random ass tuesday morning.
“uhm, hey,” you respond, sounding more like a question rather than a greeting in return.
‘this is gonna be so much fun,’ jinx’s eyes light up and she lets her lips curl up in a friendly smirk, running through ways in her mind how exactly she’d ruin your body, mark you up, and claim you for herself.
because no matter what, nobody else is ever getting a piece of you now that she's sought you out.
no fuckin’ way.
somewhere in the present, there’s an idea—a certain narrative established between you and jinx.
you’re friends. good ones.
you don't know what else would explain the obvious liking jinx has taken to you. what else would explain the way she’s always touching you, looking after you, and asking you personal questions? questions so personal they have your eyes widening and gripping the edges of your clothes.
"have you ever, y'know, done it before? had sex?"
"what sorta stuff you into? like, sex stuff."
"you ever touch yourself? what feels the best? just trying to see if i could learn somethin' interesting for myself."
you never answer, often opting to lower your head in silence. how could you? it was wildly inappropriate and quite frankly, jinx made you shy. maybe it's because she's so pretty, and bold, and has a waist so small and touchable that you just want to-
no! 'why does she care so much?' you ask yourself frequently. no friend has ever been so crass...
duh! she gives a shit because she wants to fuck your brains out 'n then maybe cuddle you a bit! but you don't know that...
jinx follows you around too, insisting you need protecting since "you're too pretty 'n perfect" to not have protection.
one day, she started walking you to your god-awful job and never stopped. her excuse was, "can't have anyone takin' advantage of ya so early in the morning, princess. janna knows they'd try with a face 'n a body like that...whew", she whistled to herself.
needless to say, she kept your life interesting. she always seems to find you, no matter where you are. like she can sense your presence anywhere. you figure she doesn't have many people to talk to, everyone's scared of her being silco's daughter and all. but, you don't have anyone either; no parents or friends. no girlfriend.
well that makes two of you. sort of.
you both are currently smushed together on her sofa in her hideout making bracelets—snacks, craft supplies, and sleepover galore surrounding you. earlier on in the day, jinx had swung by your apartment (how she found out where you lived, you had no clue) and invited you over for a sleepover for the first time. you were surprised she was trusting you enough to let you see where she retreats at night and where she spends most of her time eating, sleeping, plotting; scheming.
she has a knack for making you feel special; like it’s just you two in the world and nothing else matters.
she makes you feel alive.
you’re shaken out of your thoughts by a grinning jinx. yes, physically shaken. both of her palms are placed on your shoulders, gripping them tight and looking into your eyes almost as a way to silently ask if you’re having as much fun as her. heat transfers from her usually cold hands to your skin which has you internally reeling. you’re wearing a tank top, comfortable enough with her to show a little something extra, “whatcha thinkin’ about, hon?”
you smile back at her, “nothing.”
you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your chest for a split second but you ignore it. her eyes move quick due to the shimmer, ‘you’re seeing shit, girl’ claims the angel on your shoulder.
“hmm, you’re lying.”
“am not!” you counter.
“are too,” she doubles back.
“whatever.” you finalize, emphasizing the ‘ever’. you’re not interested in arguing with her any further or giving her the satisfaction of proving her right.
you focus on the friendship bracelet you’re creating for her, determined to make it as pretty as you can for her. you want her to wear it—like it. love it, even. it fills you with a sick satisfaction knowing that soon you’d be wearing each other's creations, way more than it would if you just saw her as a friend. you see her pause her movements out of the corner of your eye but you keep going.
the faint sound of her own bracelet dropping to the couch cushion causes your head to rise up, looking at her in slight confusion. you’re not shocked to realize that she’s already looking at you.
“’m bored,” jinx replies blankly, pouting cutely.
“and grass is green. what else is new? you’re always bored, girl,” you playfully nudge her arm.
“well… grass has more of a grey hue down here so-“
the funny but slightly depressing joke nearly flew over your head but the knowing smirk on her face clued you in on her shenanigans.
you gasp in disbelief and nudge her arm a little harder now, fighting to stifle your laugh under your breath, “ha ha. very funny.”
“yeah, toots. i’m extremely hilarious,” she holds her head up high and crosses her arms above her chest.
she pauses, “let’s play somethin’.
she faces you fully now, right knee switching from resting next to your left to mirroring both of your knees, parallel to you. she scoots closer, and by now you know her calculating personality. you know that whatever she’s up to, has to be mischievous.
“ever hear of truth or dare?”
you roll your eyes, “of course i have!”
“then, you know the rules… right?”
“yes, jinx. i know how to play,” you rebuttal.
maybe you should’ve known her attention span wouldn’t last long while bracelet making. even if the speaker blared her favorite music at her gadget station, filling the space with a comfortable ambiance.
she smiles widely, “then let’s fuckin’ play!
“it’ll be so. much. fun,” she gets closer to your face with each word to emphasize her point, biting her lip and giving you intense eye contact. sexually charged eye contact. but again, you don't realize.
“fine. fine! but you’re going first. you're better at this sorta thing.”
she leans back to give you more space, just enough space to where it's socially acceptable to still be incredibly close to your friend. she's clapping her manicured hands together as her smile grows bigger and her shoulders tense with excitement.
"truth or dare?!" she asks in a televised over-dramatic fashion.
"truth."
'too easy' she thought. although, 'this is good,' her thoughts linger further. she figures she should start you off easy.
jinx has now stopped her clapping to put a finger on her chin in a thinking motion, obviously pretending to conjure up an interesting question that she's probably already picked out in her head.
"hmm...have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asks confidently, putting emphasis on the 'boy' part of "boyfriend" in a mocking manner; like how a sibling or family member would tease you about a crush.
your eyes widen, already caught off-guard by her first question.
"uhm... no. i-i don't really like boys like that."
she licks her lower lip and smiles once again, unbeknownst to you because you've just confirmed that she actually has a chance to win you over. although, she had her suspicions when she first met you.
"ever had a girlfriend?" she questions further, a serious, eerie edge to her voice appearing at the thought of you ever even romantically touching another girl. hell, in any way, shape, or form.
blinking rapidly, you shut her down quickly, "what, no! never really got the… chance to."
initially, you were going to tease her by mentioning that she was only allowed to ask one question but, you couldn't help but shake the feeling that she wasn't going down without an answer from you.
"awesome, good to know! your turn."
"okay. truth or da-"
"dare," she cuts you off delightedly.
you file through your mind to give her something entertaining to do but you find absolutely nothing, your mind blank like always the very moment you get around her. jinx makes you feel like you don't have to live your life thinking so hard. it's peaceful.
"damn, you are bad at this game," she snorts.
"hey, i can't help it. you've gotta help me here."
she raises a brow, "i mean, you could ask me t'do basically anything. y'know i'd do it," she slowly cocks her head to the side, still gazing deep into your irises. her braids follow the movement of her head.
"make it nasty."
"what the hell am i supposed to do? tell you to take off your clothes?!"
she doesn't waver, "yeah. yeah, that's a good one. do it."
you gulp, throat now dryer than ever and your fingers hurt from tightly grasping the fabric of your sleep shorts, 'here goes nothing.'
"u-uh... i dare you to t-take off your shirt," you order weakly.
jinx doesn't even let you finish your sentence before she's crossing her arms in front of her to tug the tiny, thin tank top off of her body, you follow her hands and you watch her chuck it on the floor carelessly. you look back up at her only to realize that,
she isn’t fucking wearing a bra.
you gasp in shock and secret arousal, eyes darting to the spot below you as you avoid looking at her soft, perky chest any longer, not wanting to over-step or make her uncomfortable.
"hey, you're startin' to hurt my feelings, babe. gave you that idea for a reason. makes shit more... interesting."
you look up to meet her eyes and for the nth time, you see her staring right back at you, gaze charged with something more than usual. you may have been oblivious, but you weren't dumb, something was definitely going on here. something that friends shouldn't do alone.
but you can't stop. it's turning you on.
the game continues on for many rounds after that, you and jinx switching back and forth from truth and dare, learning more and more about each other as time passes by. you start to get the hang of her outlandish questions, answering them shyly but not as reluctant as before. something you'd never get used to was the hypnotizing way her tits bounced with each slight movement, entrancing you. you learn that she's had sex once before and that she likes rope play and getting her hair pulled.
she also mentions other personal traits of hers that make your head spin, "y'know when i get wet, i get reeeally wet. like water wet."
needless to say, you know more than you should. she seemed to not mind telling you these things either, almost excited to clue you in.
"truth or dare, baby?"
"truth," you choose once more, the pet name affecting your better judgment and the seductive tinge to her voice causing the wetness already present in your underwear to leak through to your shorts.
jinx doesn't attempt to pretend to think of a question, "tell me, toots. what turns you on? what gets ya goin'?"
"what do you mean? like some sort of a kink?"
"yeah, like a kink."
embarrassment falls over your face like a dam breaking. you have to lie. this was getting too up close and personal for your own good and the only thing that could save what's left of your dignity is a lie.
"i-i don't know..."
so much for a lie.
her unhappiness with your answer is expressed when you see her narrowing her eyes at you. she leans in close, nose brushing yours and you can feel her warm breath on your face, "i know you're lying," she says real sing-songy-like. she's teasing you, and enjoying it.
her slender finger points in your face, “no fair! showed you my tits, toots! play by the rules."
"okay! okay! god, this is so fucking embarrassing-"
"c'mon..," she urges you on, eager to learn more about your sexual side and what takes you cream. she desired to know what made your pussy wet before she stuffed you full. but again, you don't know that.
"i-um. i read something onc-,”
she cuts you off once again, “don’t got all day!”
you sigh, “okay! i like getting called names. mean ones,” you blurt out quickly—sick of her antics.
“and i think i like it…rougher?”
her seemingly continuous stare falters for a split second before a bubbly laugh escapes her throat, smiling bigger and better than she has all day.
“oh, yeah? you like it… rough? you like getting treated like you’re nothin’?” she laughs out incredulously and somehow she’s gotten closer to you, lips almost close enough to graze yours.
“jinx… i- what are you-“
“what if we… played somethin’ else? somethin’ a little more worth our while.”
she figures, ‘ay, i’ve waited long enough…i need her'.
“like what?” you inquire even though you're no longer oblivious, catching on to what she means by “somethin’ else.” you feign innocence.
you feel a calculating hand travel up your leg, they’re slightly sweaty and cold which makes a shiver crawl down your spine. your chest visibly quickens, eyebrows furrowing, and eyes glossy with desire. jinx, still maintaining eye contact with you, remains calm although internally jumping for joy as she's finally got you where she wanted you the moment she laid eyes on you.
"how wet are ya right now, toots? you look like you're 'bout to cream your fuckin' pants!"
you audibly gasp, and she continues,
"i bet you're just drippin' down there... this whole time i've been sittin' here thinkin' you're being tortured answering all my questions, but, the entire time you've been gettin' off to it, haven't ya?!"
a single tear gathers in your eye out of complete and utter embarrassment. despite that, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fucking love it.
her hand stops at the edge of your top, fiddling softly with it, "you can tell me to stop, baby! but, i have a feeling you don't want that," she whispers against your lips. you feel her tug the bottom of your tank top tighter, balling it in her clammy fist.
"dont! d-dont stop."
and just like that, a switch flips in her head. she's grabbing the back of your neck and smushing her lips against yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that has your lips aching. as soon as you feel her tongue attempt to break into your mouth, you let her in.
you initially jump in surprise but quickly sink into the kiss once you get used to the overwhelming contrast between her cold hands clutching your waist and her warm lips pressed on your lips. soon, she's basically drooling into your mouth, tongue trailing over every detail of the inside of your mouth as if she's trying to memorize the space. it's disgusting, really. but, it makes your cunt sloppy.
jinx breaks the kiss to pull your top over your head. she throws it on top of hers. the same one she abandoned long ago at the start of the game. it creates a small heap on the floor of her cozy abode.
"fuckin' whore," she laughs.
you moan, biting your lip softly as a seductive tactic to keep her kissing you.
"wooow!!" she drags out humorously, pressing her hand against your throat and tightening slowly with each word that comes out of her mouth, "you really are a slut. you like when i'm mean, slut?"
you nod, words seemingly impossible to form at this point.
she tightens her hold on you, bringing your neck closer so her mouth resides next to your ear, "if you don't speak up, i'm gonna make it hurt. 's gonna hurt so bad, bunny. gonna torture you. ‘n i know it’s our first time and all! don’t wanna have to scare ya just yet!"
unable to stop rambling, she continues, "hmm... maybe i'll shove the biggest fucking cock i have into your tight cunt... no prep! betcha you'd take it so well. hell, you'd probably like it! you're nasty like that."
"maybe i'll stuff my gun in there...with the bullets inside."
"please, jinx. fuck me.”
she just smiles, “i thought you’d never ask.”
you swear you see your life flash before your eyes because of how hard jinx is pounding your poor, abused cunt into the couch cushion. she has you face down—ass up with your hands held together behind your back by her own hands. your face rests on the couch arm, halfway visible to her so she can marvel at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and crossing achingly.
her own eyes roll at the sight of you in such a lewd state, “fuck, toots! you’re takin’ this cock so good. suckin’ me in your pussy like a good little cockslut. mmph. jus' swallowing it whole, fuck!!"
her pace is fast but calculated; and planned. as always. she’s roughly rolling her hips into yours to produce the addictive whore-ish moans to spill from your mouth. she’s also focused on watching her cock disappear in you, your cunt swallowing her cock like it was supposed to be there. the open space is filled with creamy cunt sounds and skin-slapping noises.
“holy fuckin’ shit, hear that? ya hear that pussy creaming ‘round my dick? she’s talkin’ to me, baby!”
you speak, remembering her resentment towards you not responding to her, “y-yes! i-i do, jinxie.”
“yeah?! you think she’s tryin’ to tell me how much she loves me? how much she loves when i split her open on my dick?” she reaches below your stomach to slap at your clit right where the balls on the faux cock meet your skin and you shudder in pleasure.
“fucking love your dick, ‘s so good, s-shit!”
it’s like her mouth won’t stop. she’s relentless—bullying you with her words as well as her cock. jinx pulls you up by your hair so your upper body mirrors hers. she slows her pace to thrust deeper and harder in you, damn near knocking the wind out of you. that causes to you choke on your breath, and your mouth is open as far as it can go.
“h-hah! aww… ‘s just sooo good, isn’t it?"
"see what happens when you’re good for me? good lil’ whores get good dick, ‘n i love givin’ it to ya, hon.”
you’re uncontrollably moaning, voice echoing loudly as you beg her for more—to wreck you.
“more! m-more please!”
“more?!“ she removes her hand from your head to dig her nails into your hips so she can get deeper, so she can open you up.
“you. want. fuckin’. more?!” she slams into your pussy with each word.
your pussy is drooling with your arousal and the shared sweat between you and jinx. you can feel it squelching down your legs with every thrust and throaty laugh she lets out at your pathetic form.
“god, you should see yourself. such’a perfect slut.”
with every word you feel your pussy quiver, getting closer and closer to cumming around her cock. when you curl your toes and inch off of her to prevent yourself from orgasming a whopping 3 minutes in she’s not having it, quickening her pace but keeping her almost-painful thrusts deep.
“nope! gonna take it all. ya asked for it, toots! you begged me to stick my dick in you. so take all of it.”
“b-but ‘m gonna cum! don't wanna yet! oh my god, p-please!!” you beg her for the slightest bit of mercy.
uncaring, she leans down next to the side of your head, lowering her voice, “you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘n you’re gonna cum telling me whose pussy this is. who’s is it, babe?”
“who’s feedin’ this cunt good dick?!”
“you, you! only you.”
“yeah, ‘s me. cum, toots. soak me—get me wet.”
and that was it, “fuck! ‘m cumming!”
you release a soul-crushing moan and triggered by your sudden high, you grip the edges of the couch arm and fuck your ass back on her to deepen her thrusts if that’s even possible. wetness squirts from your cunt and everywhere around you, soaking the entire space below you including jinx’s lower half. the last thing you remember before you pass the fuck out is the hazy, content look on her face and incoherent mumbles that probably consisted of,
“that was way better than a fuckin’ fantasy.”
PLEASE TAKE THIS FOOD WHILE I WORK ON MY SEV REQS!!🙏🏽🫣...
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muffinpink02 · 2 days ago
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Another Love (flatline)
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Okay, this isn’t my usual kind of story, but I’ve always wanted to do a cheating fic. I haven’t been cheated on (yet, hopefully never) so I’m sorry if it doesn’t feel authentic. I took a different approach with it. But yeah, let me know what you think. Also thank you this anon. I know I didn’t do exactly what you asked but I hope you like it.
Warnings - smut 18, cheating, toxic, manipulative behaviour, swearing
word count 6922
The rain outside pelted hard against your living room window, the sad looking drizzle cascaded down the glass like a mini waterfall. The sky outside was grey and miserable, making your normally bright and sunny living room dark and gloomy. But being at the end of the year it wasn't a surprise the weather was so dull, even if you were living in the sunnier climate of Barcelona.
And as it was the end of the year that meant Christmas was only a week away. Which is exactly why you were searching on your phone for a last minute Christmas gift. Well, actually you had done all of your christmas shopping weeks ago. This last minute shop was for Alexia’s mum. Though, this gift wasn't from you, this gift would be from her very unorganised daughter. And just like Alexia did every year she left everything to the last minute and of course she had asked you to help her out.
“You’re better at shopping, amor. Just take my card. I know you’ll get something she likes.”
You of course couldn't say no to your fiance's pleading puppy eyes and honestly you didn't mind, you were better at buying the gifts for any occasion. And Alexia would only end up just buying something last minute that her mum definitely wouldn't want or use.
So you sat comfy on your sofa with a heavy blanket wrapped around you, snuggled in one of Alexia’s thick, soft jumpers, scrolling through your phone in search of the perfect gift for the older woman. You hummed, mindlessly nodding your head to the music that lightly played out of your speaker in the background. After another 20 minutes of scrolling you finally found the perfect gift. It was a beautiful red cotton scarf. Alexias mum had lost her own a couple weeks back, and as far you knew she hadn’t replaced it yet. So this was perfect! 
You added the item in your bag, filled out all the postage information and just before you could click the ‘buy now’ button, your screen turned black. Your phone battery had given up on you. 
“No! Fuck sake.” You grumbled, throwing your head back in annoyance.
What were the chances? I mean you were warned at 20% and 10% but still!
A loud sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly kicked the covers that were wrapped tightly around your legs, freeing yourself from your comfy cocoon. You were about to go to your bedroom to grab your charger until you spotted Alexia’s ipad sitting under the coffee table. You leaned over and grabbed the device, thanking the heavens you didn't have to leave your spot.
“Please have charge.” You prayed as you pressed the on button.
The apple tech gods must have heard your prayers as the screen sprung to life with a full battery. “Yes!” You cheered as you slumped back into your pit, wrapping the covers around your body. 
You easily unlocked the device, typing in your date of birth for the password. You smiled as the screensaver appeared. It was a photo of you and Alexia last year, when you had been away on holiday, the very same holiday the blonde had proposed to you. You wore a huge smile while the blonde was lovingly kissing your cheek, both your sun kissed skin glowing on your faces.
You could still remember the moment she pulled the blue velvet box out. Your eyes had tears in them the moment she got on one knee, it was the easiest decision you had ever made.
It only made you more excited for the upcoming holiday you had booked. Not that Alexia had any clue, this was a surprise holiday, completely planned all by yourself. It was technically for her birthday but you couldn't wait another 2 months, she’d almost found out about it four times already!
You opened up the website again and found the red cotton scarf, you added the item to your trolley once more and began the process of filling out all of the shipping information again. You didn’t mean to tap the notification when it appeared on the screen, you swore as it instantly opened you up to Alexia’s emails and straight to the one that just landed in her inbox. 
“Shit.” You huffed. 
You were about to click off of the app and finish your purchase and you would have, if it wasn’t for the yellow emoji that caught your eye. You knew you shouldn't have, but something in your gut told you to read the message.
You blinked.
You stared at the screen. 
You blinked again.
Your face screwed up in confusion as you read the words, your heart instantly dropped to the pits of your stomach. “What?” You whispered to yourself
Alexia - I'll see you around 4 after training. Be ready. 
Joe - be quick, I’ve missed you 😘
“Missed you?” You said out loud. What?
No. Wait. Maybe there was more to it than this. Maybe it wasn't what you thought it was, surely not. Alexia wasn’t cheating on you, she’s your fiance for fuck sake, this wasnt what you thought. Just breath, don’t over react. This might be a friend or someone you don’t know, and she's meeting up with them. This might be nothing. Right? It's nothing. 
But, it also might be something. 
You scrolled a little further up on the conversation. 
Joe - Did you have to rip my underwear? 😂
Alexia - Sorry, i'll buy you another pair 
Joe - just for you to rip those too? 
Alexia - maybe 😘
Your breath caught in your chest as the words sunk in. You were wrong, this was clearly more than a friend.
You felt sick.
Your eyes kept going over the words, over and over and over until they didn’t make sense to you. You stared until the black lines that formed letters became small blurs that you could no longer read or process.
Alexia was cheating on you. 
Alexia. Your fiance. Your world. Your life. Your person was cheating on you.
This couldn’t be real, surely not. It must be a prank. A wrong email. Maybe she had been hacked or it's a code for football talk. Maybe …. something? You were so desperate you would believe anything else right now. But it was real, it was right in front of you, in black and white. You just didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t.
Your mind went completely blank, a numbing feeling sunk into your bones. Nothing was processing right, it was like your body was trying to reject what it was feeling. Even your vision seemed to stop, everything around you seemed to blur. A deafening silence sliced through your head, ringing painfully inside your ears. 
Breath. 
With a shaky hand you swiped up to see how far this went. Maybe this was a one time thing? Not that it made it any easier, well, maybe it would? Maybe. But that thought was killed instantly as you watched the messages between Alexia and Joe go on and on. Your finger kept swiping the screen, watching the days and weeks go by. The dates were going further and further back. It felt like it would never end. 
Your stomach twisted as the dates went back eight months. Months. This had been happening for 8 months. Nearly a year. How? How was she doing this? When was she doing this? Why was she doing this? Countless questions were steam rolling through your head. You didn’t notice your fingers were gripping the iPad as hard as they were until the muscles in your digits started to hurt. 
The messages were short. There were no declarations of love or anything that seemed intimate. Just a lot of ‘when’ and ‘where’ there was the odd flirty message, like the one you read, but nothing cryptic, it almost seemed business li
“W-what?” You stuttered in disbelief.
This surely wasn’t happening, this had to be a dream. A nightmare.
You took a deep shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You wanted to wake up and see that none of this was real. You had to wake up from this nightmare and see Alexia sleeping soundly in your warm shared bed as she cradled you against her chest like she did every night,
Please don’t let this be real. 
You didn’t realise you were crying until your tears began to drop on the screen, blurring the words that had just turned your world upside down. Your body was shaking, trembling hard as your fingers moved to swipe along the messages. You scrolled to the start of their conversation, needing to know how this started. 
No, you needed to see her. You needed to put a face to the name. You needed to see who this Joe was. 
You studied the name of the stranger. You instantly searched for her on Alexia’s instagram followers. It didn't take you long before you found her profile. Her public profile. Did they even care to be careful? The carelessness felt like another kick in the teeth, it almost felt like the stranger wanted you to see her. Maybe she did.
You scanned her profile. She was the complete opposite of you. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her style, her smile. She was nothing like you. 
She was beautiful. 
Somehow that made the pain worse. You couldn't stop the humiliation creeping down your skin, and your walls going up. Your mind dived into a deep pit of insecurity, not only was you being cheated on, but the girl didn't even look like you. A nauseous feeling flooded your brain. Did Alexia not find you attractive anymore? Was this the kind of girl Alexia actually liked and wanted?
A certain photo caught your interest. Joe was laying beside a pool, her perfect body cladded in a bikini that hardly contained her intimate parts, you scoffed in disgust when you spotted Alexia’s name in the likes. She had liked a few of her photos. Once again not caring about her footprint, she either had no shame or was just careless. It just felt like another punch in the gut. You continued to stalk Joe’s insta, looking for any more sightings of Alexia in the likes or comments, and maybe even a photo. 
She was stunning. She was perfect. She wasn't you.
You felt stupid. So fucking stupid. How many lies had Alexia told you? 
Your mind wandered to where they even met. Was she a fan? Did she know her from a life before you? Did she work for Barca? Did she find her online? On a dating app? Maybe they met on a night out?  It wasn't hard for her to do, you had noticed you had been asked less and less on nights out with the girls. Probably for this exact reason. Was she the only one, or was there others? Or maybe Alexia wasn't even meeting with the team.
Did the team know? Were they aware of what Alexia was doing? You had noticed some of the girls didn’t speak to you as much as they did before, maybe this was why? Maybe they felt bad, too ashamed to look you in the eye. But Alexia could.
Then it started to click, the late nights, the texts from Alexia telling you she was staying behind for extra training, it was all starting to take a different meaning. You pictured Alexia and Joe sneaking around, checking into some random hotel, naked and wrapped up in white sheets, panting and laughing at how clueless you were.  
You could feel the acidic bile daring to rise as you pictured Alexia with your rival. Did she make her feel better than you could? Satisfy her in a way you couldn't? 
That's when the intrusive images flashed in your mind, images of Alexia doing all the things she did to you to your opposite. Did she fuck her the same way she fucked you? Did she go down on her the way she went down on you? Biting at her thighs, making her beg to give her what she wanted, while your fiance smiled up at her with her hazel eyes. 
Her mouth kissing you hours after being with her. That’s when the bile finally rose up from your stomach. You ran to the bathroom just in time to make the toilet as the sick came up. You wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve, your back slumped hard against the wall before collapsing on the bathroom floor. Your lip quivered as the tears finally spilled from your eyes, your body trembling against the cold tiled floor.
How was this happening? Alexia had proposed to you just last year, you were planning a wedding, a future together, a family. 
What did you do wrong? 
You didn’t know what to do. Should you call someone? Should you call Alexia? No. Should you leave? But where would you go? All your family and friends were back in the UK. You had some work friends here but you weren't close enough for something like this.
Everything was falling apart. Everything you thought you knew was one big lie. How could someone you love treat you like this? How? 
After what felt like hours, you found the strength to wash your mouth and face before carrying yourself back to the living room and opened the ipad back up. Reading the messages that were breaking your heart but you couldn't tear your eyes away.
The messages were short, no more than two lines but every word felt like another blow, another hard hit that made your chest painfully tight. You didn’t realise you were hardly breathing until your body forced you to take one large gulp for air. 
You felt your body go numb when you realised Alexia had met her on your 5th anniversary. 
God, you felt so stupid. You had waited at home for her. You had spent hours cooking a three course meal, all her favourites. 
Your eyes begin to blur again when you read their messages.
Joe - Are we meeting at the restaurant or should I meet you at the hotel?
Alexia - Come to the hotel, I want to see you before I go out
Joe - okay, but this time we have to make the reservation. We missed it last time.
Alexia - well if you hadn't have put on that dress that drives me fucking crazy we would have made it. 
You were broken. 
How was this your Alexia? 
This surely wasn't the same girl that made you feel effortlessly loved? The girl that knew you better than you knew yourself. The same girl that brought you untold happiness, happiness that you never knew existed before you met her. This wasn't the same girl that asked you to dance 5 years ago in the dingy little bar. The girl that had put a ring on your finger promising you a happily ever after. 
How was this her? Your Alexia. Was she even your Alexia anymore?
Nothing felt real. You looked around the living room, it didn’t look right, nothing looked right, nothing was the same. The peace and warmth you felt from the apartment had instantly disappeared, it felt cold, lifeless. 
You jumped when you heard a text come through on your phone, it was from Alexia.
Alexia - Hola, baby, we’re going over game strategy so I will be home a little later today
And there it was, another one of her lies. A heavy weight sunk over your body, making you feel numb to the bone.
You placed the ipad on the coffee table and slowly stood up. Your legs felt like led as you began to walk, you didn't really know what you were doing, your body felt like it was going into some weird overdrive or maybe it was the shock from it all. You stopped and stared at the christmas tree that flickered in the corner, your mind took you somewhere else. You weren't sure how long you were standing there before your legs brought you to your shared bedroom.
—-----------
The familiar sound of keys rattled in the door. It was once a sound you looked forward to, instead your stomach lurched. You took a deep and shaky breath as you got ready to come face to face with your finance, the woman that had shattered your heart into a million pieces. 
“Amor, I’m home.” 
Alexia frowned when you didn’t reply, she removed her shoes and made her way into the apartment to find you. It didn't take her long to spot you in the living room, sitting at the breakfast table. 
The beating in your chest thumped hard when your eyes fell on the blonde. You wanted to hate her, you wanted to instantly fall out of love with her, you wanted to feel nothing when you heard her call you by your pet name, but that wasn't the case. You still felt everything you did before you saw the messages, before you knew the truth.
But you knew where she had been this evening. 
Alexia could instantly tell you had been crying, your blushed cheeks and watery eyes gave you away, not that you were trying to hide it. You wanted her to see the hurt she had caused.
“Bebé? What's wrong?” 
Alexia hurried over to you, she was about to cup your face, but was stopped in her tracks when you moved away. Your eyes met hers, you could see her hair was wet, she at least had the decency to shower before returning home, or make it look like she had just showered after training.
“I know.” Your voice croaked out, the hours of crying weakening your throat.
Alexia’s face frowned in confusion, it instantly annoyed you.
“Que?” 
“Joe.”  Even saying her name out loud made you want to scream.
Alexia’s face dropped, you could see the look of horror as realisation hit her. Her mouth gaped open but no words came out. The silence was deafening, you felt your skin burning, it felt itchy, painfully itchy you wanted to tear it off. After what felt like hours, though it was likely seconds, Alexia finally spoke.
“Wh-what? Who? What do you mean?” The blonde anxiously fiddled with the zip on her joggers. 
You felt your shoulders slump, she didn't even have the decency to just be honest, but why would she? She’d lied this whole time. 8 months. 
“Don’t. Don’t play dumb, Alexia. I saw your messages on your emails.” 
Alexia's frown deepened. A flash of anger flickered across her eyes. “Why were you going through my emails?” 
Was she really going to try and turn this on you?
“What? Are you actually fucking asking me that?” You snapped, your own anger boiling over.
“No! I mean-” Alexia pushed her hand through her wet loose hair, you didn't miss the way it shook. A trait she did when she was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking abo-”
“Don’t lie to me!” You shouted, voice cracking. The tears you were trying so hard to hold down bursting at the seams. “Please. Just stop lying, Alexia.” God. You sounded so weak.
Alexia looked at you, those beautiful hazel eyes you loved so much filling with tears. Her foot was tapping against the floor, she looked scared. Good, you thought. She bit her lip so hard it looked like it might bleed. You watched her through blurry eyes, she took a step back from you, covering her face with her hands. Her body stiffened as she took a deep breath.
“She means nothing to me.” Her voice was just above a whisper. But you heard it.
You sucked in a hard breath. Even though you knew what you knew, hearing her confess it hit you harder than you could have imagined. You closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but when Alexia put her warm hand on your shoulder you broke down, your skin prickled where she touched you.
“Amor, please. Please don't cry.” The blonde begged. 
You covered your face as the tears streamed down your hot cheeks, you could feel your heart beating painfully fast. It felt like you were about to go into shock, maybe you were, your body felt like it was taking a brutal beating from the inside out.
“You were with her tonight.” You weren't asking. You felt her hand stiffen on your shoulder.
The silence was so loud.
“You were with her tonight, weren't you Alexia.” You repeated. Your tone was sharp. You bluntly moved her hand from you, not wanting her to touch you. You ignored her gasp from the out of character movement from you, but you didn't care. The thought of her hands being on someone else made the pit of your stomach tighten painfully.
You watched as a few tears slipped from her eye’s. You could see the panic starting to hit her. You stood up, you needed to move, you walked past Alexia even though a small part of you wanted to hold her. What the fuck? No. You ignored it. You walked to the open kitchen, you grabbed the sides to help you with your balance, you were sure your legs were about to give up on you, your knees buckling under the turmoil of emotions that ran through your body. 
“I just don’t understand.” You squeaked out, turning your head to see Alexia who looked like a kicked puppy. 
“I am sorry. I-I- she means nothing to me. I swear.” She slowly walked over to you but stopped when you moved away.
You didn't believe her. You would never believe her again.
“You’ve been doing this for months, months Alexia! Lying to me for fucking months, seeing this girl behind my fucking back!” You screamed. Your chest was heaving with anger.
Alexia didn't say anything, what could she say? She stood there looking like she could be sick, the colour draining from her face.
“You asked me to marry you, Alexia. I have a ring on my finger because I love you. Don’t you love me? What have I done wrong?” 
You didn’t know why you had blamed yourself, but it felt like you needed to know. 
Alexia looked panicked, your words clearly making her wince. “No! I do love you! I-I- she is nothing. It’s just sex. It’s just a big mistake. I don’t know why I did it!”
That hurt. You would have some kind of understanding if you and Alexia didn't have sex, but you did. Yeah, of course it wasnt every night, or even every week but you were still intimate. So this must have been more than sex.  
You shook your head, you didn’t believe that, not anymore. You felt so small as your world began to crumble around you. The blonde was now by your side, catching you before you dropped to your knees. 
What was happening? How was this your life right now? It wasn't meant to be like this. Alexia was never meant to be the one that broke your heart.
“Baby, please. I’m here.” She grabbed your body pulling you into hers. 
You had a burning urge to hold her, you wanted to feel safe in her arms like you always did, but you felt weird, her arms didn't feel right anymore. It made you feel sick, you could feel your stomach churning as you pictured Alexia holding your opposite. You flinched away like she was made of fire. 
“Here? You’re here? You havent been here, you’ve been creeping around fucking some girl and god knows how many others behind my back! Don’t you dare say you’re ‘here’. You screamed so loud the neighbours would have heard every word.
Let them hear.
Alexia shrank at your words. You hated that you felt bad. She was the one that had hurt you.
“Why? Just tell me why? Am I not enough?” You felt like you swallowed a stone with that question. 
Alexia sniffled, wiping her tears with her sleeve. It made you realise how little you saw the girl cry. 
“You are everything and more, I swear it. I….I panicked.” Her accent grew thicker as her words shook in her throat.
“What? Panicked for what?” You questioned. 
“After I proposed.” She took a breath for air, her hazel eyes looked more green after she cried. “I panicked and got scared. It was only meant to be once, but then we started planning the wedding. It got more real and I-I just didn't know how to stop.”
“You asked me to marry you!” You said in disbelief. 
“I know! And I still want to!” She whispered.
You scoffed. This girl had some fucking nerve.
“Why would I marry someone who can lie to my face every night? Lie about where she is? Touch someone else and lay in bed with me the same night!” 
The neighbours were definitely getting a show now.
Alexia dragged her face, her puffy lips wet with tears. How could she still look so beautiful?
“I’m sorry. It was all just a big mistake I swear!” She moved closer to you. “Please, amor, forgive me! I have not been myself, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I want to marry you and be with you! You are my world, my everything! Please! Please forgive me! Please.” She was hardly breathing, her gasps of air were short as the tears came pouring out of her. She dropped to her knees in front of you, her crying getting louder and louder, you thought she might be having a panic attack. 
Your own tears fell from your eyes as you watched the woman you love break down in front of you, you wanted to believe her, but your trust had shattered the moment you read those words. How could you trust her again?
“Alexia.” You whispered her name as you put your hand on her arm. 
The blonde looked up, her wide hazel eyes bore into yours. She looked so tired. She put her hand over yours and stood, her face inches from yours. 
“Babita, please. Please. I love you so much, give me another chance.”
Her large hands came up to your face, you allowed her to wipe the ever flowing tears from your cheeks. Even though it was Alexia who had broken your heart you still needed comfort, you still wanted to feel her. You still loved her.
She took you not moving for a good sign, taking her chances and gently cupping your cheeks. 
“Please, mi amor. I am so sorry. I am such a fool, you’re everything I want. I love you so much. I can’t do this without you.” 
She moved closer to you. Her familiar smell washed over you, she smelt like home. She wrapped you up in a tight hug, you felt yourself lean into her, you didn't know why. Maybe because your whole world had just been turned upside down and you needed to feel something, even if she was the culprit that caused you all this pain.
A couple of minutes passed by, all in silence other than a couple of sniffles from you and Alexia. And in those minutes you weren't sure where you went, it felt like you had left your own body. Like this was all just a big weird dream and you were about to wake up and see that it was all a mistake, see that this wasn't real. 
Maybe you were having a panic attack.
Alexia stroked your hair as your tears still fell, the front of her jumper was wet from your face but you only snuggled more into her.
You hated yourself for it. Why were you so weak? Why were you not screaming and calling her all the names under the sun for breaking your heart? For ruining your self confidence, for making you question everything you thought you knew. Why can’t you do it? 
“Alexia.” You whispered into her jumper.
“Sí, carino?” 
“You-you’ve broken me.” Your voice cracked as more tears came.
Alexia’s tears also sprung to her eyes as she heard your words, her arms held you tighter. She took a big shuddery breath before she kissed your head. “I’m so sorry. I will be sorry that I hurt you, until the day I die.” She confessed. 
Her words didn’t comfort you, not really. They made you wonder about the future you had planned with Alexia. The future you had once been so excited to share with the girl. Now all gone. 
“I will fix this, I will, amor. Please, let me fix this.”
You felt Alexia press her lips on the top of your head. You tried to ignore the warm feeling that swirled inside your stomach. It felt like you were losing a battle with your brain and body. You closed your eyes as a soft kiss was placed on your temple. It was the same spot Alexia kissed every morning. It was so familiar, and yet it felt different. Does it feel different? Or was your brain trying to protect you?
“You’re my world. I promise you I will fix everything.” She whispered into your ear.
Your lips quivered before a small sob escaped your mouth. You felt your eyes release a new wave of tears at her words of declaration, you wanted to believe her. You wanted to believe this could be fixed. Could it? 
Sad watery eyes met yours as you looked up at the girl in front of you. Her hands held your face. It was just you and her, staring at the other. This was the face you wanted to watch grow old. The face you wanted to wake up to everyday. The face you wanted to have by your side for the rest of your life. Now it almost felt like you were looking at a stranger.
Alexia placed her hand under your chin, moving your face to her own. Your body stiffened when you felt her lips press against your own. 
“No.” You whispered weakly as you pulled back.
“Please, don’t do this. I love you with all my heart. Please don’t let this break us.” The blonde whispered as she stroked your face. 
Alexia pulled back slightly to look at your face, her glassy eyes scanned your features, taking in every detail of you. You felt exposed. Completely open to her. It made you feel vulnerable. Alexia had been your world for so long. She made you feel real love for the first time. A love that made you feel protected, seen. 
“I love you.” 
Your brain screamed to run. Leave. Don’t let her fool you. This wasn't right, you knew it wasn't. But your heart didn't agree as you let her kiss you again. The kiss was everything you knew. Her lips were a safe blanket that you could wrap yourself around in. This was what you knew, how were you going to give this up? 
“I love you.” She whispered against your lips as she gently pushed you against the kitchen side. 
“Alexia-”
“Please. I can fix this.” She pleaded as her voice cracked with desperation. 
She leaned her forehead on yours, her body leaning more into you. She closed her eyes but the tears still managed to escape as they dropped on your t-shirt and seeped into the fabric. 
You didn't say anything. All the words you had ever known escaped your brain, leaving you empty. Everything you had planned, all the questions. Gone. You were more ready this time when her lips sunk into yours again, you even opened your mouth, allowing her to push a gentle tongue against yours. You could taste the salt from her tears that stained her lips. 
What were you doing? Why were you letting her in? 
Because you loved her, you loved her with everything you had. Because you were a fool.
Her mouth cascaded down from yours to your jaw, leaving hot kisses on your skin as she made her way down to your neck. You hated yourself when a small groan left your mouth, but it turned into a small whimper as another sob escaped you.
Run.
But you couldn’t, your heart was broken, you needed to feel something, you needed Alexia, she was the one that made everything better, she was the one you went to if you ever felt upset. She was your light. She was who you needed. You just wanted to feel loved even though this wasn't what love was.
Your hands gripped her shirt when she came back to your mouth, you weren't sure if you were going to push her or away or pull her closer. Her kisses grew more desperate once she heard the groan you made, thinking this was the only way to have you back. 
She easily moved you from the kitchen to the bedroom, all while her lips attacked your neck and mouth, making you gasp for air. Your mind was a blur, a blur of pain and hurt. A blur of confusion. 
Your head was throbbing from the headache you caused yourself from crying. You tried to ignore it like the way you ignored the voice in your head telling you to stop this. But you didn't listen.
“I love you. I love you. I can fix us.” Alexia kept chanting.
She laid you on the bed as she slowly removed your joggers. You felt the tears run down your puffy lips, as you reached out for her needing her close to you again. But you couldn't look at her. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the girl you loved and hated.
Both yours and Alexias lips were puffy and swollen from tears. You felt your lips split as you licked them, stinging your plump flesh, you tried to focus on it as Alexia connected your lips once more before she began to move down your body.
“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much, babita. Let me make you feel good.”
You felt your breath hitch as the blonde kissed on your stomach. The familiar feeling of her body pressing on yours grounded you more than you would have thought. You almost forgot about why you were crying. You nearly didn't feel the pain that sunk into every fiber of your body. Nearly.
Her hazel eyes looked up at you as she moved further down. But you looked away, you felt shame flood your chest as you allowed her to remove your underwear. 
“I love you.” She mumbled against your skin. 
You gasped as you felt her tongue swipe through your folds. Your eyes started to wet again as you felt her mouth on you. Her hands gripped at your thighs, pushing you open as she gently licked at your sex. 
You felt everything and nothing. Your body felt like it was on overdrive, wanting to feel Alexia, but wanting nothing to do with her at the same time. You just wanted to feel something. It was an absolute mind fuck. And yet you opened your legs further as the girl wrapped her lips around your clit. 
Alexia stroked your thighs as she used her mouth on you. She kissed your clit before sinking her tongue into your cunt. You felt the way she groaned, probably from tasting your essence as it melted on her tongue. Your own body betrayed you. 
Your thighs started to shake as you felt that familiar swirl start to wash over your body. Alexia could tell straight away. She grabbed your hands that would have normally sunk into her hair by now and placed them on her head. You looked down from the touch, Alexia’s eyes were puffy from crying. She looked at you with a look you didn't recognise. 
Was it regret? Was it hope? Was it guilt for being caught?
Your fingers flexed loosely in her hair as your thighs started to shake. Your orgasm was building but you could tell it wasn't the same, it felt like it didnt know where to go. Or why it was even there. But you let her finish, you let her suck and lick your bud until your body shook against the bed. Your orgasm trickled over your body, leaving you feeling worse than you did. Alexia stayed between your legs to clean you up. 
You felt your chest tighten and your throat close up as a wave of sadness pulled you down. When Alexia reached your face it felt like you were drowning, it must have been your own cries as you shuddered against the bed. 
“Baby, please. Please, I’m here.” 
You grabbed Alexia's hand and pushed it between your legs, you needed to feel something. You still wanted to feel her. You didn't want to feel this sadness that was taking over your body.
Anything. Please feel anything.
“Please.” You begged as you pulled her closer to kiss you.
“I’m here. I’m right here.” She whispered before your lips locked.
Alexia circled your clit a few times before she dipped a single finger into you. You let out a small groan, you could feel you were tight. She pumped her fingers as she kissed your neck, you tried to ignore the tears that fell from her eyes onto your skin.
You hissed as she pushed another finger in. 
“Ho sento. I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to your lips as she moved her fingers slowly. “I’m sorry.” 
You grabbed her shoulders as she started to open you up. Her eyes fixed on your face as you closed your own, trying your best to escape today's nightmare. 
“I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.” She mumbled into your neck.
Her fingers got deeper as she moved faster. You finally started to float away as you felt nothing but her inside you, putting all your focus on this one feeling. 
“I will marry you. I want you to have my babies. Please let me.” She started to cry as she fucked you. 
Before you could register what she was saying you let out a loud gasp when she pushed a third finger inside you, but she knew it wasn't a painful gasp. She knew your body, she knew you. Your head dipped back in the pillow as you felt your second orgasm start to rise. Your small whimpers gave you away to the girl above as your nails dug into her arms.
“That's it baby. You’re so good.” She peppered kisses all over your face as she encouraged you.
Your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm fast apoached. Your thighs shook against Alexia's hips once her thumb began to circle your clit. You felt it. You felt something. other than sadness, just for a few seconds. 
“Don’t stop!’ You begged as your orgasm rushed over you.
“I’m here. I’m here.” Alexia coed at you.
You saw stars as your pussy clenched tightly around the thick fingers. Time stood still as everything went quiet. No voices in your head. No sadness that took over your senses. Your tears stopped for just a moment as you relaxed into the mattress. All the pressure that your body had taken was finally melting away. 
You winced a little as Alexia removed her fingers as gently as she could. You slumped back into the pillow, taking a deep breath of air. You stared at the ceiling before you felt the blonde slot herself next to you. 
“Turn around, amor.” Her breath ghosted the lose her on your neck.
 You slowly moved, you knew she wanted to hold you and you let her without question. 
Was this really your life? Was this really you?
Familiar hands started to stroke your hair. You could feel how stiff Alexia’s body was behind you, maybe she was scared to move in case she frightened you away. 
“I love you.” She whispered again.
You didn't respond. You felt her arm snaking around your side, her hand looking for your own. You didn't think before you gave her what she wanted, her thumb instantly stroked your knuckles. It wasn't long before your tired and sore eyes started to close. 
An hour later you woke up as Alexia stirred behind you, sleeping soundly. You moved as slowly as you could, creeping out the bed as lightly as you could. You grabbed your clothes that you had waiting on the side, along with your suitcase that Alexia missed when she pulled you into the bedroom.
You looked over at her sleeping form, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, a small frown sat between her brows. She looked beautiful. You almost wanted to climb back in the bed. But you stayed strong. 
“I love you.” You whispered to your lover.
The tears started to form again, quickly falling over your cheeks. You felt sick as you carried your suitcase to the front door. What were you doing? Was this the right thing? Yes. She cheated on you! She’s broken your heart. She doesn't love you like you thought she did. Leave. 
You took a deep shuddery breath before you removed your engagement ring and left it on the side, with the keys to Alexia's apartment next to them. You took one last glance over your shoulder, the Christmas tree caught your eyes as it flickering in the corner. You gently shut the door behind you, a loud sob escaped you as you left everything you thought was your future behind you.
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ds-angel1 · 2 days ago
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Bunny - brotherly love
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cw: SMUT(18+), incest, piv sex, dubcon, hand job, finger sucking, nipple/titties play, reader being pervy and sneaking into Rafe´s room while he´s sleeping, age gap(18 and 25), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!!
wc: ~ 1,6k
a/n: first post and first fic, pls dont cancel me... yay
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You knew it was vile, you knew it was dark and twisted.
You tried to stop—oh, how you tried--wrestling with shadows in your mind, drowning your thoughts in the shallow pools of distraction.
But they rose like whispers through the flood, unyielding, unrelenting. No, it didn’t work. It never did.
You still bit your lip every time he was shirtless. Your chest still flushed every time he was in your near vicinity. You still imagined him every time you reached your nimble fingers into your cotton panties.
Rafe.
Your brother.
It all started because of a simple joke. One that your friends made.
“Stop, oh my god, your brother is so hot, I’d let him hit so hard,” your best friend giggled as she munched on the popcorn you had cooked up for all 4 of you for movie night.
“Oh, hell yes!” Interjected another of your friends, her voice enthusiastic, “I would let him hit even if I was his sister!”
The living room erupted in giggles before they disappeared and the girls surrounding you focused their attention on the movie again.
Your attention stayed on the topic prior though. On him. Like any human mind would, your thoughts conjured up a realistic third-person image of your big brother fucking you. But what your mind did that not any human mind would do, was like the idea. Your eyes stared at the floor as you pictured the feeling, the view, the sounds. You clenched your thighs and bit your bottom lip—
“Hey, watcha nerds doin’?” He asked with a smirk as he appeared from behind, clad in only sweatpants.
You felt your cheeks flush at the realization of what you had been fantasizing about.
“Nothing, just watching a movie,” you muttered.
“Gee, no need to be so cold, bunny,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair. Bunny was a nickname he came up with for you. When you were 3 years old you just loved hopping around so 10-year-old Rafe decided to call you Bunny. It stuck. He perpetually calls you Bunny even now, 15 years later when you wouldn’t call yourself much of a hopper.
You had always been close. He was a great big brother, protective, and kind, always played with you when your parents were too busy. When you had a nightmare as a kid, you wouldn’t come rushing to your parent’s room, no, you´d sprinted to Rafe’s.
Innocent nights where he comforted you to sleep in his bed. But now you were imagining being in his bed again, but not him comforting you; him fucking you relentlessly. Nothing innocent about that.
Right now you were tossing and turning in your pink, fluffy sheets. You had rutted against a pillow for almost an hour, trying to block out his face but it just kept coming, then you rubbed your aching clothed core for what seemed like an eternity but the need and desperation never subsided.
The need and desperation for your brother.
When you threw your head to the side and saw that the purple, flower-decorated clock on your wall read 2 A.M., you just couldn’t take it anymore. You threw your blanket off of your body, yanking your legs to the side of your bed and then your body to stand.
With as much sneakiness and smoothness as you could conjure up, you slipped out of your bedroom, the patter of your feet fon the firm grey carpet in the hall sounding like church bells in your ears.
Right before the end of the hall, you turned your body left, finding yourself face to face with Rafe’s room. “KEEP OUT” stood in bold messy letters on a burgundy sign hung on the door.
Your parents never really paid much attention to it and just stormed in whenever they wanted. He was a 25-year-old still living with his parents, who could blame them for ignoring his rules?
Your fingers played with the hem of your nightgown nervously before you lifted one of your hands to slowly push down the door handle and crack the door open.
The small creak that came from the wood moving made you cringe in fear. Once the space was wide enough for you to fit, you entered his room.
There he was, lying sprawled out on his black satin bed cover, hair unruly and spiked. His body lay wide and stretched out on the mattress, his boxers the only thing covering him. His blanket lay on the ground as it seemed to always after he slept, even as a kid he did backflips and dances in his slumber.
The thoughts in your mind that screamed that this was wrong were drowned out by the sight of the slight bulge in his boxers.
You knew it was wrong. So so wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
You climbed onto the bed, crawling towards where he lay. He looked cute like this, snoring ever so slightly and a tiny bit of drool accumulating in the corner of his mouth.
Anxiously you moved on top of him, making sure to not let a single fiber of your legs or arms touch him.
After you had hyped yourself up enough to do it, you leaned back, letting your ass hit his thighs in a gentle fluid motion and your hands find his chest.
A moment of silence overtook the room and once you were sure he was still asleep you started moving again. Your hands found their way to his boxers, gripping the elastic band at the top and then without a single bit of haste pulling it down. Your hips lifted off of him and you dragged the plaid material all the way down to his shins and calves.
He stirred a bit, the cold air hitting his now bare crotch waking him a bit but he quickly settled into sleep again.
When you were extremely sure he was out cold again you finally let your eyes travel down. His half-hard cock, pretty and pink, barely at its full length and potential, and yet still managed to make you softly whimper out loud.
With a shaky hand, you reached forward, wrapping your small fingers around his thick base and pumping a few times. You weren’t a stranger to this, but this felt different. And no, not because he was your brother and it felt wrong. No, it felt right. Perfect.
A groan fell from his lips and he twisted his upper body, eyes squeezing shut even more tightly. At the sudden noise and movement, you immediately pulled your hand back, eyes widening in fear and worry.
In a desperate attempt to flee the scene, you kneeled up fully, accidentally brushing one of your plush tights against his tip.
It seemed that that was the only sensation left to wake him as a moment later you found yourself staring straight into your brother’s icy blue eyes.
His gaze left yours as he gained consciousness, pupils flicking around and taking in everything.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He whisper-shouted, confusion, anger and something else you hoped was desire present on his features.
“Um…” Your brain was frozen, all you could do was stare at him in horror as you knelt over him.
“You’re my fucking sister! And you’re 18! We could get fucking arrested! Me especially, you—“ he cut off before he could finish that thought as he saw your eyes watering.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he half ordered, half reassured, “Bunny, it’s gonna be okay. This never happened, okay? Go back to your room and—“ yet again he didn’t finish his sentence. This time it was because he had gripped your hips, hoping to lift you off of him, but instead, he accidentally brushed your nightdress up a bit and revealed your naked sex to him.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, “God, Bunny…”
Nothing happened for a few seconds, silence and stillness taking over the bedroom. Then without warning he grasped your hips even tighter and sank you onto his thick, throbbing cock, causing you to moan and whimper out loudly.
Quickly, Rafe’s hand shot up, stuffing three fingers into your mouth to shut you up.
“Shh, Bunny, don’t want mommy and daddy hearing you now, do we?” His voice whispered sharply between heavy panted breaths.
You rolled your hips, gagging on his fingers as they roughly probed down your throat.
“Fuck, such a little slut for your big brother, huh Bunny?” He tantalized, hissing as you started bouncing up and down on his cock.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his blunt tip hitting that perfect spot on your cervix every damn time. When he forced your dress down your shoulders and took one of your rosy pink buds into his mouth you felt as if your eyes could do a whole 360-degree spin.
You were sure the scene looked vulgar, a big brother letting his barely legal sister ride him, his mouth vigorously sucking, nipping, and lavishing her nipples, his fingers in her mouth to shut her up, drool running down the corners of her mouth and right into his own at your breasts. It was disgusting. Perfect.
It wasn’t long before you were choking and sputtering around his fingers that you were going to come, snapping your hips up and down faster and faster.
“Come for me, Bunny, be a good little sister, and come for your big brother.”
His words pushed you to your limit, clenching around his pipe unbelievably tight and coming. The feeling of your wet warmth snug around him made him quickly follow, shooting his load into you.
After a few more rolls of your hips, you had both come down from your highs and Rafe had removed his digits from your mouth. The room was filled with breathless pants and quiet shuffling now and then.
Finally, Rafe spoke up, his voice silent yet it spoke volumes of what he was feeling.
“Fuck.”
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fightmebutnotactually · 1 day ago
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as someone who teaches MANY kids eho don't speak English YOU POS dude these kids are often so sweet and to care so little for your students... I can't even imagine. The language barrier can be surpassed if you just CARE. We play charades and games that don't need language, they play pranks constantly and yes it's annoying and yknow what? HOW ELSE CAN THEY BOND WITH ME?!! HOW ELSE COULD THEY JIKE WITH ME?!!! I fucking live my esl/ml kids okay FUCK anyone who thinks their kids with a language barrier deserve ANY of that pain
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cathnospam · 17 hours ago
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Deku watched you and Bakugo fucking and haven’t looked at you both the same way since.
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Deku KNOWS what sex is, he knows after years of being with other sexually active people and living with other women he has been sexually attracted to, and eventually hormones were bound to take place in everybody in class 3-a and it would be another added topic of discussion after high school graduation.
HE even lost his virginity to Ochako not too long ago.
It was different seeing you both though.
Neither you or Bakugo through out the years seemed interested in anybody, any man that flirted with you, you either brushed them off or completely ignored and Bakugo, despite how pretty he CAN look his attitude usually scare women away, and whether he acknowledges it or not he can be pretty dense so everybody concluded you both aren’t into the dating scene.
It seemed so normal between you both until last night.
When he seen Bakugo in between your thighs.
HE DIDNT MEAN TO WATCH HE SWEARS, but he went to look for his notebook he left in your dorm after a study session and heard your door unlock with Bakugo’s loud mouth ass grumbling for you to hurry up.
Out of panic he fled to your closet and hid there, he doesn’t know why he did, he wasn’t snooping or doing anything wrong, plus bakugo and you trust him enough to freely walk into their dorms, but too late he’s stuck now.
“You’re so needy. And stop poking me with that thing—ah-“
“Mmhm. Shut up.” Bakugo grumbles into your neck, from behind, practically pushing you inside with each thrust of his dick. “Y’pissed me off today.”
“Don’t I always—-AAAOWW—MMHPH!”
Your smart remarks get muffled with a harsh hot smack to the ass and a kiss, it definitely sounded like it hurt to Deku, but he watched in shock seeing him caress your ass under your skirt.
His green eyes grew twice its size, Bakugo had lifted off your shirt, and began his attack on your neck and cheek while he undid his belt with one hand, “Fuck you smell good.”
Throwing off his black tank top and laying you on the bed, “You taste even better though.”
The mixed sounds of your giggles and moans as his lips puncture your skin from your neck down to your tits to suckle on made Deku reluctantly twist his legs,
He was getting hard.
He never viewed you in this way, yes, you were a beautiful woman, but after knowing you since middle school his crushes towards you have came and gone eventually developing into a brother and sister relationship.
….but it may change now.
“Oh ‘Suki~” You sigh softly, tilting your head to the side to get a good look at your nasty Blondie. His nose resting atop of your pussy as his lips were wrapped around your tiny clit, you felt the ministration of the back and forth suckles which made your jaw slack.
Deku looked away reluctantly, covering his eyes feeling some guilt. This was a private matter between you both, even if it was a shock he still felt like he was intruding. And boy he tried.
He tried so hard to just keep his eyes closed until you both were finished, but the noises you made not only drove Bakugo insane , but him as well.
“Mmhm.” Katsuki groaned in content inside you, hearing your voice get higher and your breaths get more ragged he knew you were close ,”Mmhm that’s it. That’s it baby c’mon—“
“BABY?!”
Deku thought this was insane to hear, never have he EVER heard Mr. Hardass to ever speak…so sweetly to you?
His big green eyes peaked through the closet door shades , covering his mouth as he almost gasped seeing Bakugo press your thighs back to eat you further, “Fuck…”
Bakugo couldn’t ignore his hard on for long.
And neither could Deku.
“I love your moutthhhhh.” You half moaned half giggled feeling yourself grow closer while your back was arching. Bakugo’s pride always was sky high when he fucked you. And somehow you saying that made Deku….jealous? Just a little, but he couldn’t focus on that too long.
You looked so sexy when you’re cumming, your little cute fingers playing with your nipples. The way you hips buck into Bakugo’s mouth, how soft and whiney your voice gets when you’re crying his name.
Next thing you know Deku’s hands were palming his growing errection.
Nononono he can’t. He can’t get off to his best friends, it’s ….dirty. Bakugo would kill him and you might feel disgusted with him.
But Deku’s mind wasn’t in tandem with his body because his hand was already inside his pants.
“Ssssshit girl I didn’t tell you—-“
“Don’t care.” You words muffled as you lay on your stomach between his thighs, capturing his tip between your lips to suck on . You giggle and moan when you feel a warm hand slap against your ass.
The way how you nearly could take him all in was such a turn on to Deku. You’re the same girl that was just choking on a noodle earlier today at lunch, but now you’re taking in Bakugo’s dick like a champ.
“Fuck…” Deku couldn’t help it his fingers teased his own tip, precum already enough to lube his shaft while he matches the pace of your bobbing head.
Your boyfriend began to massage your ass a little, groaning your name in frustration because he was already so close to cumming, “You and that fucking tongue…”
The green haired boy was also close, watching you made him wish it was him instead of his own best friend you were sucking off.
How many times have you done this with him? Was it yesterday when you both left class? Was it those times you both went to bed early? Deku kept rethinking all those times you both were alone and it was nearly too much he almost took away his own orgasm, so he pumped his dick faster to the view of Bakugo’s fingers slipping inside your soaked cunt.
Who wouldn’t thought he’d be spending his evening cumming with his best friends.
You and Bakugo were spent. It wasn’t unusual, being pro hero’s in training a night of just oral would sometimes just be enough.
That wasn’t enough for Deku thought he though,
“No no no don’t go to sleep!”
He watched as you and your boyfriend cuddled naked on top of the covers, breathing still heavy, his big hands grabbed your chin so you can turn and face him to taste yourself on his tongue.
“‘Suki…” you breathed feeling him lift your thigh over his legs, he didn’t even have to move that much to already his dick press against your clit.
“Sssh sssh shhh. Just lay down and take it okay? I got you.” His breathing was heavy, though he was exhausted he just couldn’t stop here and he knew you were too so he didn’t mind fucking you while you were half sleep and on your side.
And luckily, Deku had a front view of it, your pussy spreading from the size of his dick, you were doing so good taking him in.
He started to stroke himself again, he was still so sensitive from just cumming, he couldn’t stop though your voice was so fucking attractive all on its own, “S’goooddd~”
Despite the deep long strokes, your boyfriend was so gentle with making sure he wasn’t too rough, leaving you more sore than you already were in the morning. He nibbled and sucked on your neck, he tried so hard not to moan, he hated how he sounded when he did, but the way your soft fat ass kept bouncing on his pelvis he couldn’t help it and it made you clench harder.
“Just like that baby just cum all on me…there you go..fuck—“
This was just too lewd, but at this point your little best friend didn’t care, he was gnawing on his lips, eyes focused on the sight of your pussy and your eyes rolling back while your boyfriend was in your ear talking oh so dirty to you about your body, your pussy, your moaning. It didn’t take long until you felt that familiar knot.
“Oh shit shit shit shit!” Deku thought, he was close too but he knew it was ganna be messier this time, but he couldn’t stop himself he wanted to cum too right there with you both.
Bakugo’s thrust got sloppier and shallow, catching his own orgasm to join you (and Deku). He covered your mouth with his free hand because you usually get loud when you cum on his cock. But fuck that he kissed you instead to swallow your moans.
Grinding inside you, all three of you came. It was honestly the best and scariest orgasm Deku’s ever had with just his hand. Best from his front row seat view, scariest because he was afraid Bakugo heard you moan your name from the closet.
He swore he did from when he looked up in that direction while you were still on cloud 9, but maybe that was just his imagination.
Maybe.
You both were finally asleep. You laid on top of him, buried in his neck, and Blondie facing the window holding you tight, Deku decided to make it his mission to quietly leave.
There are many secrets Izuku had to keep in his life, but this was one he knew he had to keep for the sake of KEEEPING HIS LIFE.
But it didn’t stop the new view he had towards you both.
Who would’ve thought you both were his new Jack off material.
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circe69 · 14 hours ago
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"had to get it in, couldn't wait around!" - s.r. x reader
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ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ who is it? simon "ghost" riley x you
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ what is it? enemies always fuck better, right? you hate him, or so you thought...
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ cws: unprotected p in v, angry simon turned soft, huge d!ck, knife play kinda? ass play, heavy make out. word count: 2.4k
<3
"what the fuck was that about?"
you stomped into an empty, abandoned conference room and stood at the end of a long table, with one masked man sitting at the other end. your arms crossed themselves across your chest, and you popped a hip out to the side as you waited for his answer.
simon motherfucking riley was your arch nemesis. someone you didn't trust, never agreed with, and certainly never wanted to work with. but the world isn't fair. it keeps spinning even when you despise someone, and captain price couldn't care less about your feelings towards simon when it came to the thousands of lives you were saving every mission.
usually, if you're in a group, you don't dare speak to simon this way. you only nod your head at his commands and walk away, hoping that he's receiving the millions of telepathic "fuck you's" you put out somewhere into the universe. but now, you're alone, and there is no better time than the present to tell your lieutenant off.
"if you need to blow some steam, i suggest going for a few boxing rounds w' soap. he's always looking for-" he paused whatever ministrations he was writing on a file and looked up at you slowly, "an easy opponent."
you huff and smirk out of pure anger as you briskly round the table, making your way over to him. "I'm not here to fucking play around, lieutenant, I'm here to let you know I'm pissed because you gave everybody else an assignment overseas next month except for me." you paused and let his eyes meet yours as your strong volume turned into a whisper. "I've worked just as hard, if not fucking harder than the rest of these task force fuckers, and we both know I'd be a good shot out there."
when it comes to you giving your superior a piece of your mind, simon usually submits completely. he never fires back, to everyone else's surprise, and he always allows you to use him, so to speak, to yell at him and get everything out of your system before entering the world again.
but not today.
simon slowly stood up from his chair, keeping eye contact with you as he expanded to almost double your size in every factor possible.
the seconds felt like years as his eyes bore down into yours. your heart rate was doubling every time one of you blinked, and you had to tense every single muscle in your body just to remain stagnant in position. the silence was deafening, and as the seconds passed, you remembered everything you've seen this man do, every corpse he's thrown to the side like a piece of garbage in his way, every knife rusted and wasted because it's been buried deep in the jaw of his enemies, and the eyes that have seen all of this from the first person perspective, are staring right into your-
SLAM.
simons hand comes down onto the wooden table with the force of 10 men, it sounds like, and you couldn't do anything but jump. you flinch. you fucking flinch and it feels like you're waving a white flag.
His gloved fingers reach out to your chin and tug you by the jaw, forcing your face inches away from his, "I have fuckin' had it with your attitude. you can act like a bitch all you fucking want to price, to gaz, and I sure as fuck don't care about how you treat soap. but to me," he squeezes your chin to reinstate your obedience before drifting his hand to rest on your neck, "to me, you either respect me or don't say shit at all. so get used to swallowing your words around here from now on, cause there won't be anywhere else for them to fucking go but down your own throat."
coincidentally, you do swallow. hard and slow, and simons eyes watch and feel your neck bobbing as you begin to shake just slightly under his pressure. as he squeezes, a small squeak releases itself from your lips and you mentally kick yourself for it, knowing that's just what he wants. because once you let yourself go to the stormy waters that is simon riley, you'll never be the same again. he'll make sure of it.
"you say yes sir." his low voice whispered into the empty room, your face somewhere even closer than before, every minute that passes you move an inch. you still can't open your mouth, you're suffering from shell shock and there's no mercy to be found in the eyes of your shooter.
simon pulls out a blade from his thigh holster and presses it to your side, "say. it. now." he yells even louder. you feel the sharp sting of the metal start to break through the cotton of your shirt and tease your skin. a tear breaks free from your eyes, and you are completely gone. you're done for. absolutely dead in every sense but the physical.
"yes sir." you whisper, finally freeing yourself from some kind of paralysis. you feel the blade crash onto the table, as well as the sweet release of your neck from his hand. an extra wave of oxygen that you didn't know you were missing flowed though you in small gasps.
simon said nothing as he walked straight past you, out of the door, slamming it behind him. he left you, his knife, and a part of your soul, there in that room.
ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
it had been a few days since simon had blown any ounce of relationship between the two of you into ash and dust, and you can't tell if the looks simon gives you now are filled with rage or just empty. empty meanings, empty promises, because he just doesn't care. but ever since he's made it clear with you that he is not to be messed with, you've unfortunately want him more.
simon riley is a fucking apex predator, and in the past, you've just been standing there, petting him, taunting him, and expecting nothing to happen. well now, you not only expect it, you fucking want it. you dream about all the things he could do to you. but all the things he hasn't said just prove that he couldn't care less.
that night, the only news channel your small tv offers called for rain, a lot of it, mixed with thunderstorms and lightning. as you dry your hair off with a towel, you walk to your window and look outside. your stomach churns at the sight of the angry clouds heading your way. you absolutely despise thunderstorms, and you prefer for a long night because there is no way you would be getting any sleep.
"fuck." you whisper to yourself as it starts to drizzle.
you try to ignore it as you kick off your slippers and get under your soft covers, pulling your duvet all the way up to your ears to try to mute the sound. it was now raining harder, and occasional sparks of electricity lit up your room from the sky, so you tossed and turn all night until you finally fell asleep.
it wasn't until hours later that a large boom of thunder shook you awake. you sat up immediately in a panic, gasping for air and looking around you as if you were expecting anything, something to explain the sound. tears started rolling down your face not only in fear, but in frustration also. you were so upset and so tired. you needed something, someone. just to tell you it was going to be okay. you slipped out of bed with a shaky hand clutching a necklace around your neck as you opened the door of your room and walked out.
the cold air of the hallway caused your skin to raise up into goosebumps and your nipples to pebble through your thin tank top, and even as you crossed your arms over yourself, it wasn't enough.
you headed straight for a door right down the hall. one with a name on the wood that you never thought you would go to in need in a million years. but you didn't know what to do.
your small knuckles rapped on the door, right underneath a nameplate.
simon "ghost" riley
you hear heavy footsteps and several locks unfastening before the door swings open.
a maskless man appears, with no shirt, and a large hand rubbing the side of his face. he was no doubt asleep before this. his eyes squinted as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to adjust to the light. your jaw hung slightly agape at the sight of him, so human. so disgustingly human who's done such non-humane things.
his eyes swept over your face as he noticed the tear stained cheeks, reddened from lack of sleep and continued down your body, down your full teardrop breasts, across your bare stomach, your sweatpants that hung loosely off your hips, and no words were spoken as he grabbed you by both forearms and drug you inside his room.
you gasped as he moved you backwards towards his bed, his much larger and comfier bed, and you no longer had any reason to stop him as he drug you under the covers with him. you couldn't believe him as he snuck in close to you, silently, as if it were normal.
it wasn’t until you felt an arm come up to rest upon your hip, and the floodgates opened. you couldn’t stop tears from rolling down your eyes. you were so confused, so scared, so fucking tired. small whimpers and gasps of breath continued.
“shhh.” came from simon’s mouth as he pulled you closer and softly squeezed your hip.
“you hate me” you whispered back, sobbing louder.
“hm-mm, no.”
“yes, you fucking hate me and you’ve just pulled me into your bed,” you start whining louder as your hands reach up to cover your face.
simon’s eyes slowly opened to look into yours before swatting your ass ,”quit crying n' go to sleep.”
you only responded with smaller, shorter intakes of breath and sniffles.
“y’hear me?” he patted your ass where he had slapped it before.
you nodded and whispered, “yes sir.”
a growl tore threw simon’s mouth as he looked up at the bedroom ceiling before throwing his forearm over his eyes, “fuckin’ hell.”
this time it’s you who reaches out, as you place a small palm on his bicep. he flinches at the touch before sighing,
“c’mere puppy.”
you slowly crawl on top of simon, placing both hands on his arms before allowing your head to fall between his neck and shoulder. a warmth slithered through you as you relaxed into him, and as his hand slowly caressed and squeezed the fat of your ass, the warmth exceeded just below your navel.
you made the mistake of squirming, and he noticed.
he clicked his tongue against his teeth while pulling you closer, “stay still.”
“i-i’m trying to get comfortable-"
"well stop." he interrupted, "just relax."
the wind outside howled, as simon's breath and yours intertwined through the space between you. and just like the storms outside, simon was the most unexpected thing to ever exist. he was trying hard to not scare you off, to be gentle, even though every thing in him contradicts that. but you know better. you know that he is gentle somewhere behind that mask.
you squirmed again, "simon I just don't know what to do." you leaned up to look at him. and there it was, the look that he only gave you, the small and desperate iris' just begging for some kind of affection. even without much light, you could still see him grasping at the frays for you. seconds of intense eye contact went by for simon broke the silence,
"just kiss m'then."
you gasped, sitting back a centimeter, but then nodded. and leaned into his touch. into him.
the kiss was soft and delicate, your lips and his just barely overlapping as you took in his woodsy smell, pine and maple, but that was all it took to pull a groan from simon.
more, more, is all he thought as he grabbed you by the hips and prodded his tongue against your lips. you smiled at the action, and without hesitation, opened up for him completely.
it was nothing but violent, raw, and urgent, the way simon kissed you. you moaned into his mouth as he smacked the fat of your ass, "all it took," he mumbled, "all it took was a little tongue for you to shut the fuck up."
you whined at the loss of contact as simon struggled to pull your pants down, but it disintegrated as he swiped a finger between your thighs, "fuck." simon whispered at the wetness pooling from your sex. "how many times have I yelled at you and gotten you wet?" he said, as he flipped you both around so you were now in your back, head smushing the soft pillow.
you groaned as he discarded his sweatpants and boxers, leaving his cock to spring out against his stomach. "how many times, baby?" he asked again, "you think about me hurting you when you play with this pretty pussy?" his index reached out to circle your clit a few times.
you couldn't help it, your body was betraying you in real time as your walls fluttered around nothing. "yes, yes I think about it, I think about you all the time simon." your babbles spilled out of you like water, and simon was lapping it up.
he chuckled, "don't even n'to prep you, you're a fuckin' faucet, sweetheart." his lengthy cock, with precut oozing out of the tip, was begging to be inside you, begging to fill you up. as he grabbed his length and positioned himself to your weeping hole, he looked you in the eyes, "y'want this?"
your eyes met his and for a second, you felt some sort of fire igniting deep within you, why was he even asking? why did it feel like the monster he is was softening for you?
you grabbed his hip and thrusted yourself, notching the tip of him inside your walls. "yes, I fucking want this, simon."
he chuckled as he watched him disappear inside you, inch by inch, every fucking centimeter felt like a year lived without you. he needed to make up for it, because the one woman that he couldn't stand just happened to be the woman he couldn't live without.
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melanchoire · 2 days ago
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idk if you’re request are r still open but could you pleaseeeee right a squid game au with karina where’s she’s a vip whilst the reader is a player who happens to catch rina’s eyes and orders one of the guards to ‘kill’ her but the truth is she just wants them to injure you so she could pretty much buy you and offers them a generous offer and takes the reader with her home to fuck her ofc-
HEAD TO TOE, WE'RE G-O-L-D, GOLD ──── yu jimin.
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── ( ⚜️ ) in a high–stakes arena where the rich play with lives, karina's unhinged affection for a clueless player spirals into a thrilling pursuit of power and possession, as she wages a clandestine war against the elite who want to control the game—determined to make she hers in a landscape where loyalty can be deadly.
pairing. soft dom!vip!karina x sub!player!fem reader
warning(s). dark themes (blood, blackmail, guns, manipulation, wounds.) smut (cunnilingus, fingering, pet names, praise.)
word count. 6,9k
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on the remote, windswept island off the coast of korea, where the air felt thick with the salt of the ocean and layers of privilege, karina stared intently at the massive screen that flickers unrelentingly in front of her. it projected scenes of desperation and grim determination, a macabre theater of survival that the elite of society had come to revel in as they reclined within the plush confines of their exclusive lounge.
the other VIPs —a cadre of wealthy men each shrouded in opulence and armed with an ego the size of their fortunes— prattled away around her, their voices a cacophony of bravado and crude laughter. their animal masks glinted in the dim light, each an embodiment of their own stunted sophistication: the bear, the buffalo, the deer, the eagle, the lion, the owl and the panther. karina, with her sleek, glimmering snake mask, had long stopped trying to fit into their ill–fitted notion of power. they bestowed her with the title of “black mamba” — a name that clung to her like an aura, representing both seduction and danger.
indeed, karina was like the serpent after which she was named. she navigated through the male–dominated realm of wealth with a grace that was lethal. a CEO of multiple chain buildings, her empire spanned continents, erecting glass towers that pierced the skies. she delighted in the art of negotiations, mastering the calculated dance of give–and–take, luring her opponents close like prey in her velvet–lined trap before swallowing them whole. boredom had become her only true foe, and thus she found herself here, in this disturbing yet exhilarating environment, where life and death were mere odds in a high–stakes game.
the room pulsed with energy as the VIPs loudly deliberated on who among the 456 participants would prevail in the intricate, ruthless challenges laid out before them. they were gambles in a world fueled by adrenaline and greed. fingers flicked extravagantly as large sums of money were wagered, laughter erupting akin to applause for a theatrical performance. to them, these people were merely pawns, skittish players manipulated by the whims of chance.
karina sipped her wine, the rich bouquet swirling over her senses, but there was no warmth in the glass. she let the crystalline liquid glide over her tongue, savoring the taste, yet it paled in comparison to the sensations she was accustomed to in her world of opulence. her golden snake mask, adorned with shimmering jewels, reflected the flickering lights of the room, but it only accentuated the dark aura that surrounded her. the other VIPs, a proud gathering of men adorned in various animal masks, were discussing their latest ventures and betting strategies with animated enthusiasm, their laughter booming like thunder against the backdrop of muted dread that enveloped the game they were spectating.
karina leaned back against the plush leather chair, feeling the weight of their stares. she was the only woman present—an anomaly among this cadre of wealthy men whose fortunes were built on the backs of the common people. each one was a titan in his own right, possessing more money than they could spend in several lifetimes, yet as she surveyed the colorful men in their masks, she wondered about the hollowness that lay beneath their bravado. they were captains of strewn empires, quibbling over who could win this sadistic game, their dispositions fueled by overconfidence and unshakeable egos. she snorted softly at their amusement, a derisive smile curling her lips.
“who do you plan to bet on, black mamba?” a man clad in a golden lion mask leaned towards her, his voice oozing with faux camaraderie.
karina turned her head slightly, her gaze flicking to him with what might have been amusement, but instead might have been a deep–rooted contempt for the mundanity of their discussions. “i’ll pass on the pleasantries.” she said curtly, breaking her silence — a strike of intention as elegant as the flick of a serpent’s tongue.
“c’mon, karina. we didn't invite you here so you could just sit there with your butt on that couch.”
karina turned her gaze towards the massive screen, which projected the first horrifying game of the night. a collection of desperate players, their faces a tapestry of fear and determination, stood ready for the fight of their lives. they were fodder to the insatiable piggishness of the VIPs—a spectacle that turned the brutal struggle for survival into mere entertainment.
“your instincts are keen, lion.” she replied, her voice silky yet piercing, like a viper poised to strike. “but i tend to reserve my bets for those deserving of my admiration.”
the lion chuckled, prattling on about the odds and potential outcomes, but karina felt her attention drifting. she wasn’t interested in the banal exchanges of these men; they discussed their wealth like it was their greatest accomplishment, flaunting it like peacocks. she preferred the power she held; the way she commanded respect in every boardroom, every meeting, every deal. wealth was merely a tool for her, one that created empires, sculpted architectures that defined skylines, but sometimes left her yearning for something deeper.
as she analyzed the players on the screen, she noticed one in particular—a young woman with innocent features that contrasted sharply with the stark reality of her surroundings. the girl shifted nervously, glancing around at her fellow competitors, her wide eyes brimming with a blend of anxiety and determination. there was something captivating about her essence—an aura of naivety that made her somehow endearing. it felt like looking at a delicate flower amid a sea of thorns.
karina felt her heart flutter eerily, straying from her hardened exterior. the girl’s spirit spoke to her in a way few could, a spark of light threading through the darkness that surrounded the entire game. it would be easy to dismiss her as mere fodder—she was just another desperate soul seeking the elusive promise of freedom. yet here she was, glistening like a diamond hidden among the rubble, and as she carried out her calculations of survival, karina couldn’t help but feel drawn to the story she was weaving amidst this tapestry of despair.
the lion called for her attention again, trying to ensnare her in another round of gossip concerning their bets. but karina felt herself slipping further away from them, her focus honing in on the girl. her thoughts transformed into a meticulous analysis, breaking down the tension radiating from the competitors. they moved like a pack of wolves, filling the arena with their primal instincts. each one’s strategy revealed their desperate wish for survival, but none of that had meaning until you chose the right person to believe in.
“what am i doing?” she muttered softly under her breath, snapping her fingers.
one of the guards in his pinkish–red suit materialized at her side, his triangle mask glinting ominously in the low light. a calculating young man who had been handpicked among the elite soldiers to serve in this twisted charade. “yes, ma’am?” he replied, cheeks around the edge of his mask concealing the knowledge of death that lurked behind his crisp demeanor.
“i need you to do me a favor.” she said, her gaze unwavering, steely resolve underlying her words. the guard would obey; they all did. her wealth commanded loyalty, but it was her reputation that ensured it.
“bring me the details of the players.” she instructed, her tone sharp and unwavering. “and ensure that the ones who seem the most intriguing make their way to my corner.” the guard nodded, his expression unreadable beneath the mask, and swiftly vanished into the shadows of the lounge. “but i want you to put in some effort with someone in particular. and you better do a good job.”
“fiind out more about the girl in the competition. the one with a naive aura.” karina instructed, her tone sharp and demanding. intrigue ignited within her, fueled by a thrill she hadn’t felt in ages. “i want every detail—her background, her motivations, her weaknesses. i don’t want a single scrap of information overlooked.”
“oh, do tell me who has caught your eye.” the lion interrupted again, too enthralled by his own drunken bravado to notice the shift in her demeanor. “she looks like she’s just waiting to die.”
snarling inwardly, karina felt the sting of irritation clawing at her composure. “she looks like anyone who has something worth fighting for.” karina responded crisply, her voice sliding dangerously through the thick air, laced with reproach, “consider that next time you choose to gawk like a fool.”
several heads turned, intrigued by her sudden display of assertiveness. but she didn’t care about the flocking attention; she felt the familiar heat of a challenge flare up within her. several minutes passed before her thoughts were interrupted again—by the same guard who had been summoned earlier. cracking through her internal focus, he delivered, presenting a sleek tablet showcasing detailed analyses of each player, their backgrounds, and their potential weaknesses.
the guard nodded, committing her request to memory. as he moved back into the shadows of the room, karina returned her attention to the screen, her expression morphing from indifference to fierce concern. in the midst of blood-soaked chaos and merciless intent, there was this flawed creature, fighting for her life with a purpose she may not even fully comprehend. It invoked an emotion within karina—an empathic tug that ached like an old scar.
why did she care? amidst the avarice that suffocated her, a flicker of benevolence stirred restlessly. perhaps it was the girl’s resilience in this devil's game; perhaps it was simply an impulse to save someone beneath the weight of despair. for a moment, karina pondered the irony of her existence in this enclave of excess and power, a sentiment largely forgotten by these men as they laughed and teased, their masks disguising their insignificance in their perceived greatness.
would she risk her reputation, her wealth, to help the girl survive? her mouth curled again, this time in a contemplative smirk, a realization dawning on her—rescue could be a form of rebellion against all that she had come to loathe about this cruel game. in a world thriving on the indulgences of the wealthy, karina realized she might just have found a reason to play.
a voice broke her reverie, and she faced the men once more. “well, what’s it going to be, black mamba?” he boomed, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of potential profits hanging in the balance, oblivious to the stirrings within her heart.
“let’s see how this game unfolds.” she replied with a chilling smirk, her eyes betraying none of her internal turmoil, an intricate tapestry of wealth, boredom, and now—unwitting hope. As she settled into her seat, she could sense the adventure beginning, a plot still unwritten as the games played on.
karina turns to look at another guard. “and you, come here. i have a slightly more risky task for you. i hope you have fun…”
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the scent of metal and fear hangs thick in the air as you awaken, the oppressive quiet of the giant room enveloping you like a shroud. the stark buzz of fluorescent lights hums overhead, illuminating a labyrinth of stacked bunk beds, some of which undulate with nervous bodies still cocooned in dreams. the ceiling is far above you, the dimly lit room stretching into shadows and uncertainty. bunk beds cascade down from the walls in chaotic rows, each occupied by a bewildered, anxious player. they glance at you, some with fear, others with a wild spark of determination. but none of their expressions give you solace. this is where you are: the squid game
you push yourself upright, blinking against the harsh light, your mind racing to stitch together the fragments of your recent past. the memory drifts into view like a haunting specter: it all began with a simple, stupid decision—a game of ddakji with the man in the suit. he had an air of disinterest, as if he watched your life dribble away like sand through an hourglass. winning felt easy, almost like a cruel joke; the slap that accompanied a loss had sent a wave of humiliation through you. but as he handed you his business card, you thought maybe, just maybe, this was a ticket out—out of your monotonous life as a cashier at a quaint cafe, a life spent earning pennies to help support your struggling parents. the card that promised a way out of your mundane existence led you here, to an unknown fate among 456 players wearing identical green uniforms. you had no idea that the card would lead you to this hell.
pushing those memories aside, you navigate the maze of players. your white sneakers touch the cold metal floor as you walk cautiously among the bunk beds. you try to consolidate your thoughts, recalling the night you were taken. the black van. the shouts. the fear that pulsed through your veins. you rub your arms, trying to shake off the cold creeping into your bones, when suddenly you bump into someone.
“i’m so sorry!” you exclaim, stepping back.
the girl before you towers over most, her deep–set eyes ringed with dark circles that speak of sleepless nights. kang saebyeok—her name rolls off the tongue like a haunting melody. you catch a glimpse of something in her gaze: a weariness that piqued your curiosity. but even in her state, she seems different, composed under the chaos surrounding you.
“it’s fine." she replies, her voice neutral yet tinged with a hint of something deeper.
amidst the suffocating expressions of panic, she stands tall, her dark eyes ringed with shadows that hint at sleepless nights and untold stories. she catches your gaze, an understanding passing between you — a connection sparked by shared dread.
“are you alright?” you ask hesitantly, your voice trembling against the silence.
as you share small talk, she reveals pieces of her past, vibrant yet dark. the tales of her childhood in north korea, the devastating epidemic that robbed her of family, the escape that still left her haunted. you listen intently, captivated, as she paints a grim picture of survival. but it isn’t just her battles that draw you in; it’s the faint glimmer of compassion that flickers in her eyes when she looks at you.
your paths diverge as you each retreat into your own thoughts. you sense an inexplicable bond forming between you, as if her pain resonates with your own deep yearning for freedom and escape. but your stories are different—intertwined by fate but separate in essence. you entered the game in hopes of helping your parents, to lift them out of the grasp of poverty, while she seeks a much larger goal: to find and rescue her mother, trapped in a nightmare of her own.
you feel the stark contrast of your lives: hers marked with survival against insurmountable odds, and yours a life filled with ordinary struggles. you weren’t a pickpocket or a defector; you were just a girl trying to help her family.
but you sense something in her, an empathy, as if your vulnerability reminds her of her younger brother, all dreams and innocence, much like you. it pulls you toward her, igniting a flicker of hope that there is someone here for you, and in this monstrous place, companionship becomes your refuge.
then the voice booms again, and you’re ushered towards the outdoor arena, the cold air biting at your skin. you can see a large, eerie doll looming at the far end—a haunting figure with oversized eyes painted in a way that could front a nightmare. it looks so innocent yet so deadly.
“welcome to your first game: red light, green light!” the announcer’s tone is devoid of any genuine warmth, slicing into your resolve.
a collective gasp ripples through the crowd. you glance sideways to see saebyeok’s expression: determination mixed with a flicker of fear. the giant doll, younghee, stands ominously at the other end of the field, its haunting eyes carefully tracking each player as they formulate their plans for survival.
“listen carefully.” saebyeok urges, leaning close to you. “when it’s green light, run. when it turns red, stop. but just before it calls red light, slow down for a moment. it’s all about timing.”
you glance to your left and see saebyeok, her posture tense yet alert. the moment the game begins, time seems to stretch. the doll’s voice booms out, “green light!” and adrenaline surges through your veins. you take off, feet pounding against the ground, the illusion of safety fueling your determination.
another shout. “red light!” you freeze mid–run, adrenaline turning to ice in an instant. you see players wobbling and stopping awkwardly around you, just trying to stay still. the tension in the air tingles across your skin. in the pit of your stomach, dread settles like stone.
you sprint forward, the fear of elimination driving your legs to move faster than ever before. a surge of adrenaline propels you closer to safety, but as your eyes dart from the doll to the finish line.
you remember saebyeok’s warning — you feel the momentum pushing you forward despite your mind screaming for you to stop. you lock your muscles, your breath catching as you freeze. but another sound pierces the tension; your heart sinks as you hear the vicious crack of a gunshot. agony blooms in your thigh, a needle of fire that overwhelms you, forcing a muffled cry from your lips.
you gasp, heart racing, as your body betrays you. you could scream—there’s a storm of panic within, mingling with blood pooling around your leg.
panic erupts around you, players rushing, some dropping to the ground, their hopes extinguished. you want to scream, to cry for help, but gihun, a fellow player crouched beside you, who previously placed his forearm across his mouth. “don’t move! stay still!”
every word he utters vibrates with urgency, a mix of fear and steely resolve. writh blood seeping from your wound, the world around you begins to fade as your strength wanes. darkness edges into your vision, but you fight to stay present, wanting nothing more than to push through — for saebyeok, for your family, for the chance to escape this hell.
“green light!” echoes the voice again, and saebyeok darts across the field, her eyes locked on you.
your vision blurs, but through that haze, you see saebyeok dashing toward you, defying the chaos, defying the rules. “hold on!” she shouts, voice fierce and full of urgency.
another player crouches by your side, his expression a mix of horror and determination. “don’t move… just hold on!”
saebyeok arrives, scooping you upwards, as if you weigh no more than a feather. there’s a desperate strength in her—a promise of protection that pulls you from the abyss. together, you and saebyeok reach the safe zone just as the surrounding shouts of horror and despair fade into a distant echo.
fear melds into gratitude as you look up at her. The realization flickers across your mind—this girl, this strong-willed stranger, cares. she won’t let you surrender to the darkness swirling around. as others rush toward you—concern etched deeply on their faces—you meet saebyeok’s eyes, putting all your hope into that very glance.
but before you can articulate your gratitude, a guard appears next to you. the cold metal of his revolver snakes through the air, and with a swift, brutal strike, everything dissolves into darkness. the world blurs, enveloping you in an unforgiving void.
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you wake up dizzy, your heart racing and breath shallow as reality begins to uncoil around you. the world swims into focus: you are lying in the back of a remarkably expensive car, the leather seats firm beneath your body, yet far too soft for your liking at this moment. the familiar ache in your thigh is still there, throbbing painfully, a stark reminder of the chaos you just escaped—and yet, there’s a noticeable tension around the injury. you glance down, and your eyes widen as you see a piece of cloth wrapped tightly around your thigh, fashioned in a makeshift tourniquet style. a towel, stained dark red with your blood, absorbs the warmth of your injury.
turning your head with effort, you peer over toward the front seat, where the driver sits, her hands gripping the wheel with quiet determination. your breath catches; she has sharp yet elegant features, a woman with an air of unpredictability that unnerves you. her dark hair cascades down her shoulders, framing her pale skin, but it’s the intensity of her gaze in the rearview mirror that sends a chill racing down your spine. she appears calm, unbothered by the gravity of the situation.
“where— where are we?” your voice sneaks out, hoarse and weak, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth.
the one woman glances at you momentarily before returning her focus to the road, her expression unreadable. in that split second, you catch a glimpse of the pain and resilience etched into her features. “you’re safe.” she replies simply, her voice low and steady, almost melodic in its resolve.
the word safe echoes like a haunting refrain in your mind, pulling you back to thoughts of saebyeok and the chaos of the squid game. perhaps it's the remnants of fear from the game still thrumming in your veins—an unshakable instinct that safety may be a fleeting illusion. you remember her urgent instructions and her fierce determination, the way she urged you to escape.
“saebyeok… where is she?” you manage to croak out. “Is she—”
“she’s fine.” the woman interjects, turning the wheel sharply to the left. the abrupt motion sends a wave of nausea through you, and you fight to keep your lunch where it belongs. “but she’s not important now. just focus on your breathing.”
“i’m someone who’s not interested in watching you die.” she replies, driving through a narrow, secluded street. “i want to help you and her, but you need to trust me.”
to trust her? the irony is almost bitter, after everything that’s happened in the game. desperation gnaws at your mind as you replay the memory of the guard who shot you—totally unexpected, coldly calculating. but the woman radiates something different. maybe it’s the calmness in her tone, or the familiarity that lies beneath her sharp exterior. it’s tempting. but trust is hard–earned, especially in a place like this.
before you can respond, a wave of dizziness washes over you like dark ink pooling in water. the pain in your leg blurs into a backdrop of discomfort, and your vision starts to dim. The last thing you remember is your head dropping back against the headrest, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement rippling through the veil of unconsciousness.
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you awaken with a gasp, the unfamiliar softness beneath you bewildering. the scent of herbal tea lingers in the air, mingling with a sense of disorientation. your body feels different—lighter, perhaps—but the sharp, throbbing pain in your thigh propels your thoughts back to the last moments of brutality. the memories rush in like an uninvited wave: a dark room, masked figures, the echo of gunfire, desperation, and the struggle for survival. you sit upright abruptly, panic clawing at your throat.
your hands shoot to your legs, searching for familiar fabric—the green uniform that has defined your existence as a player in the squid game—but instead, you find the cotton texture of a loose white t–shirt. but then, a sharp pain in your thigh reminds you that you can’t move too swiftly. it pins you to the plush sofa where you lie, the cushions cradling your body as you cautiously shift. your hand brushes against your thigh, and you flinch—something beneath the bandage is throbbing, a burning sensation just underneath your skin. you hesitate, then gingerly push the cotton of the bandage with your fingers. an unsettling reminder of the bullet wound you had suffered during the game.
as you breathe deeply, trying to steady your racing heart, a voice pulls you from the brink of a spiraling panic. a woman stands in front of you, her silhouette sharp against the backdrop of an exquisite living room. she’s striking, with deep auburn hair cascading in waves over her shoulders, and her attire—a silk blouse paired with tailored pants—screams sophistication.
“i hope you had a restful sleep.” she says, a soft smile playing on her lips. “i’ve prepared some tea for you.” she states matter–of–factly, gently setting a delicate teapot and two ornate cups on a coffee table in front of the expansive, luxurious sofa. she gestures toward the opulent coffee table in front of the sofa, revealing a polished silver teapot and delicate porcelain cups, almost too beautiful for the situation.
you want to respond, to ask questions, but your words are lodged in your throat. the sharp pain in your thigh throbs again, and your body refuses to cooperate.
“you need to stay still.” she advises, her voice low and soothing yet commanding. you can’t help but comply, your instincts telling you that defiance could lead to consequences you’re not ready to face. “the wound needs my attention first.”
the casual authority in her voice suggests that there’s more power in her small frame than you might comprehend. as she approaches, you can’t help but return to your previous survival instincts—should you trust her?
with that, she kneels beside the sofa, drawing your attention downward. you watch as her cool hands delicately examine your thigh, her fingers brushing over the bandage, careful not to apply pressure. the intimacy of the act sends an unexpected shiver down your spine, igniting a spectrum of emotions within you. she pulls out a small kit, pristine and organized, revealing instruments that slice through the nerves of your apprehension.
as she kneels beside you, the weight of your vulnerability hovers between you, and an unsettling mix of gratitude and apprehension blooms in your chest. “you took me out of there.” you whisper, realizing the implications of her actions. “but why?”
“because i can offer more than survival. i can offer a life.”
the first touch is gentle—a sting, but not unbearable—as she removes the bandage. you wince but remain silent, your gaze fixed on her intense focus. as the cloth comes off, pain lashes through you like a whip, spiking through the haze of confusion. you grit your teeth, the sight of your injury—a jagged bullet wound—is startlingly graphic. it sends a wave of nausea through you, but karina’s touch is gentle, almost comforting, as she surveys the damage.
you can feel the edges of her fingers as she applies antiseptic, a sharp bite that trails warmth as it spreads. the contrast leaves you breathless, a wave of sensations battling in your mind.
“hold on, this might hurt a bit.” she warns softly, and without hesitation, she begins to remove what’s left of the bullet from your thigh. you gasp, the pain surging through your body like a wire crackling with electricity. you feel your grip on the sofa tighten, knuckles whitening as you suppress a grunt.
“there we go,” she murmurs, her voice laced with a strangely comforting cadence. “you’re going to be okay.” with expert precision, she extracts the jagged piece, placing it gently aside. as she applies a new bandage, you can’t help but catch glimpses of her calm demeanor. the way she moves is both careful and confident, a jarring juxtaposition to the chaos you had just escaped.
“i have some experience with these kinds of things. you’d be surprised what money can buy in terms of expertise.”
“money doesn’t matter anymore.” you insist, wanting nothing more than to push through the oppression of helplessness and reclaim your freedom. “there’s no way out of this.”
when she finishes, she sits back on her heels, allowing you a moment to collect yourself. Your breath steadies, though your heart pounds, both from pain and the surreal circumstances unfolding.
“oh, but there is—if you choose to play your cards right.” she coos, her voice almost a sultry whisper as she pours a cup of tea, carefully handing it to you. “much more than your little coffee shop will ever pay you. just think of your parents. what if i told you i could change your life? make sure they never worry about a thing again?”
the room falls into a heavy silence. then, with a twitch of her mouth, she leans closer, her face just mere inches from yours. “you know, i could offer you a lot more than you make working as a cashier in that little coffee shop.” she states, her tone shifting into something more alluring. “you could have a life free from worry, free to take care of your parents without the constant struggle.”
you swallow hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. the allure of an easier life tempts you, especially when you think of your parents. but there’s always a catch. with karina, everything comes at a price.
you sip the tea, feeling it warm your insides, yet the unease inside you doesn’t dissipate. Understanding dawns on you, but you wish it wouldn’t. “what’s the catch? what do you want from me?” you finally ask, barely above a whisper, daring to look her in the eye despite the unease thrumming in your veins.
iarina smirks, her eyes glinting with predatory delight. “nothing too complicated. be my partner in this little enterprise i’m building. utilize your skills from the game. you know the ins and outs of manipulation and survival better than most.”
the implication hangs heavy in the air, the predatory nature of her offer sinking into your consciousness. “you want me to work with you on something illegal?” you ask incredulously, heart racing. “you know what i am. what we’ve all been through.”
“in a way, that gives you more credibility.” she replies smoothly, her fingers now cleaning the wound with a swab, delicate yet firm. “people respect that type of history. i’ll pay you handsomely, far beyond your wildest dreams. enough to support your family, to elevate your status above merely surviving.”
her smile widens, and for a moment, her gaze holds yours fiercely, a burning intensity behind it. “just a little trust. a little cooperation. things can be… quite beneficial for both of us.” she leans in even closer, her breath brushing against your skin, warm and inviting.
the friction of your emotions collides: the urge to fight back against exploitation, against being used again, but the recurring reminder of your parents—their struggles, their sacrifices—fuels a twisted sense of acceptance. “and if i refuse?” you challenge, attempting to brave the interpretation of her intentions.
karina’s expression shifts slightly, a flicker of danger surfacing in her mischievous smile. “then i’d have to reconsider what to do with you, wouldn’t i?”
you watch as she applies an antiseptic ointment, the calm precision of her movements oddly mesmerizing. the tightness in your chest only deepens; you can feel vulnerability and desire intertwining together, as she leans in closer, the warmth radiating from her body washing over you.
“you see, this could be the beginning of a mutually beneficial relationship.” she whispers with a tantalizing smile, her breath laced with a floral scent.
before you can process her intentions, her lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, a sudden invasion that catches you off guard. you feel the world blur around you, the pain in your thigh forgotten for just an intoxicating moment as you succumb to the fervor of her kiss. it’s passionate, electric, filled with a raw hunger that ignites a yearning deep within you.
her hands find their way to your waist, fingers gripping you tightly as she draws herself even closer. In a confused swirl of emotions, you wrestle with your thoughts. reality clashes with the moment—the situation, the vulnerability, the manipulation—all exposed, stark and unavoidable.
as she deepens the kiss, you feel her hands move, groping at your sides with an urgency that sends an onslaught of conflicting feelings surging through you. it’s dangerously thrilling yet utterly terrifying. you’re caught between the lush fantasy she offers and the grim reality of what it all could mean—the depths of her manipulation, the shadows of power she wields.
when she finally pulls back, your breathless gasps fill the silence that lingers afterward. a mixture of confusion and desire fills your mind. “we both have things to gain here.” she states matter–of–factly, her cool composure returning, eyes glimmering with that same seductive control.
accidentally, karina places her hand on your injured thigh, earning a hiss from you. karina paused for a moment, her expression softening slightly as she took in your words. she stepped closer to you, her hand cupping your cheek gently as she gazed into your eyes. her thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip, a tender gesture that belied her usual rough exterior.
“oh baby, i'm sorry... i forgot you’re still recovering.” she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft and caring. “don’t worry, i’ll be extra gentle with you, okay? i promise i won’t hurt you.”
she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from yours. her breath was warm and sweet, smelling faintly of peppermint lip gloss and the lingering scent of cigarettes. when she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“i just want to make you feel good. i want to worship every inch of your beautiful body until you’re trembling with pleasure. we’ll take it slow, okay? nice and easy, just like this…”
with that, she closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. her lips moved against yours with a tenderness that caught you off guard, her tongue teasing the seam of your mouth.
karina’s hands slid down to your waist, her fingers splaying across your lower back as she pulled your body flush against hers. she deepened the kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to dance and twine with yours. the kiss was slow and sensual, a contrast to her usual aggressive nature.
she takes your wrist, guiding you to walk to one of the many rooms in the house. she walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of her king–sized bed, the plush mattress cushioning your fall. karina followed you down, covering your body with her own as she continued to plunder your mouth. her kisses were intoxicating, leaving you breathless and craving more.
one hand slid down to the hem of your shirt, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric to caress the smooth skin of your stomach. she broke the kiss to trail her lips down the column of your throat, her tongue flicking out to taste your racing pulse.
karina nipped at your collarbone before soothing the sting with a slow lick, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. she looked up at you with hooded eyes, her gaze smoldering with desire.
“tell me what you want, babygirl.” she murmured, her voice low and seductive. “tell me how you want me to touch you…”
“please karina. i need you so badly…”
karina’s hand slid higher, her fingers skimming over your ribcage before cupping the soft swell of your breast. she squeezed gently, her thumb finding your hardening nipple through the thin fabric of your bra. she rolled the sensitive nub between her thumb and forefinger, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp.
her mouth found its way back to your neck, her lips and teeth and tongue working in tandem to leave a trail of hot, open–mouthed kisses along your throat. she nipped and sucked at your pulse points, no doubt leaving marks that would linger for days.
karina’s other hand slid down to your hip, her fingers dipping just below the waistband of your jeans to tease the sensitive skin. she traced lazy circles, her touch maddeningly light and teasing.
she pulled back slightly to look at you, her eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your face. her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
“i want to taste every inch of you.” she murmured, her voice low and rough with desire. “i want to feel you come undone beneath my touch, to hear my name falling from your pretty lips as you scream your pleasure.”
with that, she slid down your body, settling between your legs. she looked up at you with a wicked grin as her fingers found the button of your shorts, popping it open with ease. “lift your hips for me, babygirl. let me take these off of you.”
karina slowly peeled your shorts down your legs, her fingertips trailing along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. she tossed the denim aside carelessly, leaving you bare from the waist down, clad only in your lacy panties.
she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily taking in the way the delicate fabric clung to your curves. she leaned in close, her breath hot against your inner thigh as she spoke. “fuck, baby... you have the most gorgeous legs i’ve ever seen. the perfect body.” she murmured appreciatively. “and this pretty pussy... i can’t wait to get my mouth on it.”
with that, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down, revealing your glistening folds to her eager gaze. she let out a low, approving moan at the sight.
karina leaned in even closer, her nose brushing against your slick heat as she inhaled deeply. the scent of your arousal filled the air, and she let out a low, guttural groan.
“you smell divine.” she purred, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “i bet you taste even better…”
she didn’t waste any more time, burying her face between your thighs and running her tongue along your slit in a long, slow lick. she savored your essence, moaning wantonly as she lapped at your dripping core.
karina focused her attention on your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of her tongue before suckling gently on the swollen bud. her hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs wider as she delved deeper, plunging her tongue inside your tight channel.
karina’s tongue explored your depths, stroking and caressing your inner walls with skillful precision. she curled her tongue in just the right way, hitting that special spot deep inside you that made your back arch off the bed. pleasure coursed through your veins, setting your nerve endings ablaze.
she could feel your slick walls fluttering around her invading muscle, your body instinctively trying to draw her in deeper. karina obliged, thrusting her tongue in and out of you at a steady pace, fucking you with her mouth as she savored your essence.
pne hand slid up your body to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipple between her fingers. she pinched and plucked at the hardened peak, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.
karina’s other hand slid down to rub at your clit, her fingers circling and stroking the sensitive nub in time with the thrusts of her tongue. she could feel you growing closer to the edge, your body tensing and trembling with impending release.
she pulled back slightly, her lips wrapping around your clit as she suckled greedily. two fingers plunged deep inside you, curling in just the right way to stroke that special spot with every thrust. karina fingered you hard and fast, her mouth never leaving your clit.
“that’s it.” she encouraged, her voice muffled against your flesh. “come for me. i want to feel you come all over my fingers and tongue. give it to me, darling. let me taste your pleasure.”
karina could feel your walls starting to quiver and clench around her plunging fingers, your body tensing as your orgasm approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking harder on your clit as she pumped her fingers in and out of your dripping cunt at a furious pace.
she could tell you were close, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps and your hips bucking erratically against her face. karina wanted to taste your release, to feel your essence flooding her mouth as you came undone.
with a final, hard suck on your clit and a curl of her fingers deep inside you, she sent you hurtling over the edge. your body convulsed, your walls clamping down like a vice on her invading digits as your orgasm crashed through you.
karina moaned loudly as your juices gushed out, coating her fingers and chin. she continued to lap at your spasming flesh, working you through your high as your pleasure peaked and then began to ebb.
finally, as your body went limp and pliant beneath her, karina slowly pulled back. she sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she gazed down at you with a satisfied smirk.
“that was so fucking hot, sweetheart.” she purred, her voice low and rough. “watching you come apart like that... it was beautiful.”
she crawled up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss, pressing her mouth against yours and letting you taste yourself on her tongue. karina’s hand slid down to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh gently.
“i’m not done with you yet though, babygirl.” she murmured against your lips. “that was just the beginning. i’m going to fuck you over and over again until neither of us can move. i hope you’re ready for a long night."
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allayns-palace · 2 days ago
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I keep seeing this fucking clip in YouTube lives qnd I fucking hate it, as well as those guys "playing" that fucking game where theyre filling this container with different layers hate those as well, and that one guy thats always playing those weird mobile games that I feel like are full of ads.
Idk they really break me out of my doomscrolling in YouTube shorts cuz I get so annoyed by them so thats a plus to them.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago
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sinful sentences (thirteen)
jenson button - "I want to make you mine."
tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/45), flirty!reader, unprotected sex & baby trapping, doggy style, jenson is smitten (read: unhinged), dark-ish themes
sinful sentences catalogue
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you were a flirt, that was what you were good at. flash a pretty smile, wear a low-cut top and any man would happily give over some cash. flutter your eyelashes and give them a sweet laugh at their corny jokes, and the bills grew in value.
jenson was smitten, needy for your attention. he loved how you felt in his hands, how his lips felt against yours. and when he was lucky, his cock snug inside of your achy, soaked cunt. maybe it was time getting to him and missing so-called glory days. but he liked the little flirt he often saw at the bar, and he liked taking you home.
but he believed that you could do a hell of a lot better than the bar you frequented. someone quiet, secluded, with an apron around your waist, dinner on the table and his child growing in your belly.
"hey, beautiful." he purred as he draped an arm around you, "look a little lonely tonight." his lips grazed your jaw, "sad that no one's giving you attention, tinkerbell?"
"shut up." you replied and when you looked at him. when your gaze met his, he pulled you in for a heated kiss. that shut you up quite quickly. you hated it, he had this way with you that made your core simmer.
"i want to make you mine." he said, "tonight."
"i could never be yours, jenson. don't be stupid." you laughed.
there was a reason why all the men got to look but not touch, but jenson often got handfuls of your flesh and his cock buried inside of you. when he pulled away from the kiss, he smiled at you, " are you done, tinkerbell? gonna be good for me?" he leaned in, "because my wallet is feeling a little heavy, and i think you could lighten the load."
and then like a lamb you tucked yourself closer to him. you knew you were a slut for his attention, he was older, wiser, wealthier. he knew what he could get from you and it made you aroused. it didn't hurt that his cock was rather big and he knew exactly how to use it.
"when have i ever been good for you?" you asked playfully.
jenson chuckled lowly, "that's what i like to hear. causing my problems, making me watch you be a total fucking flirt. but you always come back to me." he kissed your cheek.
"are you going to give me what i want?" you asked softly as you played with the top button of the light blue shirt he wore. you then spread your hand across his chest, "please?"
jenson's smile grew, "of course, honey. i'll always give you what you want. but, you have to be a good girl for me. so put away the teeth, angel, and let's have some fun tonight."
you ended up back at his home, the expensive kind of apartment with a price tag that made most raise their eyebrows. he had the money so why not spend it.
he was quick to undress you, and while the couch was closer he did have the capacity to be a gentleman and guided you to the bedroom. your clothes remained in a pile on the floor in the living room as he shepred you into the bedroom. then, when you got through the door he got you up in his arms and onto the bed.
"hands and knees, beautiful."
"are you going to use a condom?"
jenson flashed that winner's smile, "of course, tinkerbell. gotta play it safe for you, right?" the plan was turning in his head. easy to lie with your face in the covers. he patted your cheek and leaned in to kiss you on the lips. you tasted like cranberry juice and vodka, and he tasted like rum and coke.
his other hand on your thigh as he held you. his cock stirred in his jeans at the taste of you against him. you felt like something else, you could scam your way into some cash with just a few smiles. but jenson was greedy.
"hands and knees, beautiful. i want to see that pretty pussy and that lovely ass of yours." he chuckled before he pulled away and you got on your chest and knees with your ass in the air. perfect for him.
jenson played with your pussy as he got undressed, he dragged his fingers across it. played with your clit and even sank his digits into you. he felt the tight wet heat and he wondered how many men ran through you before. but, that didn't matter now. not when he had you in his metaphorical jaws.
it'll be the only cock you needed now, jenson would take care of his wife. there wasn't even a question if you would be his wife or not. he knew you'd walk down that aisle. he wasn't raising his baby without a ring on your finger.
you held onto the pillow under your head and heard him move around once he was undressed. you looked over and saw him get a condom out a desk drawer and you exhaled a sigh of relief. he smiled wickedly when you put your face back into the pillows.
when you weren't looking at him, the unused condom was dumped in the waste bin. he said as he approached you, his heavy cock bobbed as he got up behind you on the bed. he admired the glossiness of your cunt and licked his lips.
all for him, only for him.
he sank into you, no protection keeping that pretty pussy of yours safe. no, tonight you were going to take jenson raw. the thought excited him as he shifted his knees on the bed to get a better angle to fuck you. he pressed you at the middle of your shoulders, pushing you further into the bed with your pretty ass up against his hips. you felt amazing, the tight heat of your cunt wrapped up around him.
jenson button was one lucky bastard tonight.
he rocked up into you. his movements started off slow yet powerful. he moved up against you, both hands at your hips. he used it as leverage to move against you. it felt amazing, your cunt held onto him tightly.
like your body knew it wanted to get pregnant. and who was jenson to deny a beautiful woman what she so desired. your words said one thing and your body said another.
"fuck, jenson." you shuddered as the thrusts grew. his pace had his cock pressed up into your deepest parts. it made you panting against covers as he fucked you further into them. your breathing was heavier as you cunt fluttered around him.
the pleasure clouded your mind, all rationale was out the window. you didn't even question him that he actually put the condom on. your brain was flooded with the intense heat of pleasure. you gasped into the covers as the pleasure grew in your core.
there was something thumping in your soul from his movements and your core swam with a yearning for him. the way he fucked you, even when it was rough, quick sex. there was something about it that made your head swim with lust.
damn jenson button for knowing exactly how to get you going, how to pull orgasms out of you like a rabbit from a hat.
"you feel like heaven, honey. my little fucking tinkerbell with your fairy wings that i wanna pluck from you." he wrapped his arms around you and battered his cock into you. this pace quickened and you felt your foundation shake. his words were filthy and it lit a fire in your belly.
he continued to fuck you. he pressed his weight further down on you and made you squirm when his pace became brutal. he knew exactly how to keep you under him. you thought you were getting a nice payday from this, but you were going to walk a way with a bit more than some fresh euros stuffed in your purse.
more like his cum stuffed into your slick pussy, right where it belonged. don't worry, after you have his first kid he'll let out have a break, but he hoped within a decade you two will have three little button kids running around. of course he'll buy a nice house for your little growing family. but tonight, the logistics weren't important, tonight he was on a mission.
get his little tinkerbell, the girl desperate for male attention, nice and pregnant with his kid. then everything else will fall into place. his movements quickened till he was fucking you right into the mattress. his breathing was heavy and his body tense as he fucked you.
the bed creaked a little as you panted heavily into the covers. you whined, "fuck, jenson! i'm close!" then arched your back quite a bit as you felt climax begin to take its hold on you.
"that's it, beautiful. let it out for me. good girl, good girl." he cooed lowly and it made you head swim with heated want as you felt the throb in your body of climax. jenson knew your body better than you knew it yourself.
jenson kept up his pace. he fucked you with a simmering heat. he didn't last much longer, he couldn't have. he could feel the pleasure in his gut as soon finished inside of you. as climax hit, he shoved his entire length into you. made sure that the tip of his cock became familiar with the base of your cervix. they'd become quite acquainted over the next few months.
"fuck, jenson." you gasped as his pace slowed down and he gave you a playful smack on the behind.
"better than the rest, huh?" he said as he leaned over you, kept his softening cock inside of you for a moment. he kissed the shell of your ear and felt your tremble.
in a moment of post-orgasm weakness you croaked, "yes." and jenson felt nothing but a sense of pride that tonight he got you pregnant.
-
large hand on a swollen belly. been a whine since you've been at the bar and it's been only a few weeks since you became jenson button's wife. no late nights seeking the flirty attention of men older than you.
one of them finally got you tied down and in a few months you were going to be the mother to his child. his hands were still greedy for the softness of your hips, his tongue still wanted to explore your mouth. now he could whenever he wanted.
his hand grazed your middle, he loved the feeling of it. you looked so good. looked proper even when you struggled a little to get off the couch. you carried the baby well, even if it made you rely on jenson a little more (not that he was complaining)
you still don't know how it happened, but jenson simply shrugged and said, "miracles happen every day. and this one is ours." shutting down any questions about misuse of protection. all it took was one night and one little lie, and now jenson button clipped the wings of his little tinkerbell. <3
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ktownshizzle · 1 day ago
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Honey & Citrus | an myg drabble
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✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Meet-cute coffee shop!au, to be confirmed if Yoongi is an idol or not
✎ ˎˊ˗  Summary: You haaate your job, but at least there’s this sexy eye-candy at your favorite cafe to distract you from your miserable 9 to forever grind. Your simple, casual nods with him turn into a silent caffeine war when, after his small act of kindness, you buy him his coffee—and he refuses to let the favor go unanswered. Suddenly, you’re locked in a daily battle of who pays first, and just when you think you’ve reached a stalemate, fate (and a very nosy barista) throws in a twist you never saw coming.
✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: None ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.6k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 13, 2025
✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Welcome to another unplanned story. Just a little something I whipped up for the boss babes and corporate girlies working in their city's business districts, desperate to find a semblance of happiness in their robotic working days–did I mention this was really self-indulgent? I am not sure if this stays as a one-shot or a series of drabbles? Idk. Anyways, enjoy!~
Series Masterlist | More Yoongi stories this way > Masterlist
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There’s a rhythm to your mornings. The kind that makes life feel like a well-oiled machine—predictable, efficient, sharp. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway, as you sidestep a finance bro barking into his phone to push open the door to Honey & Citrus cafe.
Not Coffee Bean. Never Starbucks. Not even Compose—even though Kim Taehyung’s face could certainly make you wanna come (in).
But you don’t need the soulless corporate grind in your caffeine routine when you already live it from 9 to god-knows-when. Honey & Citrus has the good beans, the real baristas who actually know your order and don’t try to be fake-friendly with you, and the quiet that lets you inhale a moment of peace before stepping into the battlefield of bullshit board meetings.
And then there’s him.
“Iced Americano for Yoongi…” 
He’s always there at the same time as you. Every. Single. Day.
A handsome stranger with sharp, feline eyes and an ever-present air of quiet confidence. The very first time you see him, he was wearing a suit. A medium gray set with an interesting burgundy tie. He held a small suitcase, fit for a macbook air, maybe a thin stack of paperwork. Definitely some VC vulture or hedge fund guy, gifted with the face of a luxury brand model.
But then one day he was wearing… a hoodie and black slacks with headphones slung around his neck, the expensive kind audiophiles swear by. 
Hmm. With this look, your previous assumptions did not add up. Now, you couldn’t quite place his profession. 
Since then, it becomes some sort of game you play in your mind. To discover what this dude’s job is.
One day, he holds a notebook filled with messy, poetic scrawls—you catch a glimpse as he flips the pages, and your mind spins wild theories. Another morning, he reads a printout of a Shareholder Meeting report as he awaits his coffee. Then the next day, you spot a vinyl tucked under his arm, and something about that sends your curiosity spiraling further.
Music Executive? Writer? Producer? Who is this mysterious artsy type in a sea of wolves? But maybe is a wolf. Lawyer, City Prosecutor, some Start-Up Founder… who likes to dabble in poetry?
You’re fascinated. Man has aura. And on top of that, he sure looks like he can fuck.
Unlucky for you, your interactions so far are limited to polite nods, the occasional small smile exchanged as you both wait for your respective coffees. Maybe the universe has a sense of humor, slotting you into the same ten-minute window every day with a stranger who intrigues you far more than your own coworkers do. But of course, he is not interested in you.
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You wake up with a migraine, and instantly, you know—it’s a morning from hell.
Your alarm didn’t go off. Your inbox is already on fire. Your boss sends a cryptic “let’s talk” email before you’ve even left your apartment, which is never a good sign. You forgot about the afternoon presentation you’re supposed to give, and your deck isn’t even half-finished.
The thought of quitting—of walking into that glass tower and tossing your resignation onto your boss’s desk like a dramatic K-drama lead—has never been more tempting.
This morning has no rhythm. More out of tune than drunk-you in a Coin Karaoke.
By the time you drag yourself into Honey & Citrus, it’s already a god-forsaken Friday. You’re barely holding it together, probably leaving a trail of smoke in your wake. Your hair is frizzy, your face frazzled—it’s just a fucked-up day all around. And it’s barely 8 a.m.
You’re so deep in your own misery that you don’t even clock the fact that your favorite stranger has been looking at you since you walked in.
Not until—
“Fighting~”
You blink.
He’s looking right at you, his dark eyes warm with quiet amusement as he mouths the word again, this time with double closed fists, like a cartoon character summoning energy. And then, just for good measure, he smiles.
A real one.
The disbelief must be all over your face because suddenly, you’re giggling—actually giggling, something you didn’t think you were capable of before noon.
Yoongi—the mysterious, unreadable stranger you’ve been quietly fascinated with for weeks—just gave you the world’s softest pep talk.
And then, as if realizing what he’s done, he quickly looks away, pulling a face mask over his mouth, his pink-tinged cheeks disappearing behind black fabric.
A second later, he’s heading for the door, stepping out into the cold like he didn’t just single-handedly save your morning.
Your eyes follow him until he disappears around the corner, but the warmth he left behind lingers in your chest.
Maybe because you needed to hear it. Maybe because no one’s said it to you in a long time. Maybe because he said it.
You take a deep breath, square your shoulders. And somehow—somehow—you make it through the day.
You survive. Without handing over your resignation letter.
Small wins.
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The next Monday, you get to Honey & Citrus first. You don’t even think about it—you just do it. You buy his coffee.
And then you sprint out before he can react, because suddenly, the idea of watching his expression feels too embarrassing to bear. You tell yourself it’s just a small gesture. A thank-you for a kindness he probably doesn’t even think much of.
The next day, though, he beats you to it.
You walk in, and the barista just hands you your usual order with a knowing smile. “It’s covered.”
You blink, turn, and find him already at his usual spot, sipping his drink like he didn’t just declare war.
Because it is so obvious he did this just to one-up you.
You narrow your eyes. He lifts his cup in a silent toast, eyes glinting with something dangerously close to amusement.
And so it begins.
For a week, you play the game.
One morning, you bribe the barista to let you pay first. The next, he somehow convinces them to refuse your card. 
You show up earlier to get ahead, but the next day he shows up even earlier.
Your schedule is screwed. You’re suddenly up way earlier than you like, but you like it.
It’s ridiculous. It’s fun. It’s completely unlike anything else in your day.
Until, finally, one morning, you both arrive at the exact same time.
You grab the door handle—he does, too. His palm brushes against your knuckles. Both of you freeze, eyes locking, realizing at the same time:
Shit. No winner today.
You swear you see his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a real smile. And then—before you can overthink it—you finally, actually, talk to him.
“You know,” you say, tilting your head, “we could just both buy our own coffee like normal people.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” His voice is deep, lazy, laced with amusement.
“Are you always this competitive?”
“Are you?”
You huff, trying to suppress the warmth creeping up your neck. He leans in slightly, and it’s the first time you’ve really, truly studied him up close—the sharp cut of his jaw, the quiet intensity behind his eyes, the scent of something subtly musky clinging to his coat.
“Since we’re doing introductions before the next round,” he says, “I’m Yoongi.”
Of course, you already know it. You give yours in return, and he nods like it makes sense. Like he already knew it as well. Which makes sense.
As you walk in, the barista snickers, clearly entertained by whatever weird silent war you and Yoongi have been waging for the past week. You’re about to step back, let him go first when the barista clears her throat.
“Actually,” she says, way too pleased with herself. “It’s on the house today.”
Both you and Yoongi blink in unison.
“What?” you ask.
“Why?” Yoongi adds, looking just as skeptical.
The barista leans on the counter, grinning like she’s been waiting for this exact moment. “Valentine’s Day promo.”
Your stomach drops. Your brain stalls. You look around and Honey & Citrus has little cherubs hanging from the ceiling.
“First couple to walk in together gets free drinks,” she further explains.
You feel the heat crawl up your neck, your face burning so hot it could brew the damn espresso yourself. Beside you, Yoongi makes a tiny sound—like an exhale caught in his throat—and when you turn your head ever so slightly, you see it.
His ears are bright red.
The barista just smirks. You are going to die here.
You should correct her, actually. You should explain. But words? Language? Coherent thought? We don’t know her.
But that’s when Yoongi does something absolutely insane.
He clears his throat, thanks the barista, and then—looking at one of the booths of the cafe, still not looking at you—he says, casually, like this isn’t the most absurd moment of your life,
“How about we have that first date right now?”
Your head snaps toward him, and he finally meets your gaze, and oh, he’s serious. 
Your heart stumbles over itself, but you manage a tiny, shy smile, and a quip, “…you mean this coffee? Here?” Because that’s all your pea brain can compute.
His lips twitch. “Mm. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?”
Huh.
You hate that he’s smooth about this. You hate that you kind of really, really like it. 
You swallow hard, shifting on your feet. “This place is fine.”
His smile curves, small but victorious. “Good.”
The barista practically vibrates behind the counter as she hands over your drinks, joyful even though two drinks are getting docked from her pay that week. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day!”
With Yoongi, it feels like it's definitely going to be...
:)
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A/N: To you, my dearest reader. I hope your heart is filled with joy today and forever. You deserve it!
Want more for our coffee shop couple? Let me know if you’re interested in me turning this into series of drabbles?? Look at me adding more stuff into my WIP list.  Caved! Here's the H&C masterlist
Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human! xo
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ordinary-barbie · 2 days ago
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victory lap.
football player!rafe x fem!reader
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summary: Your boyfriend Rafe has just won the biggest football game of his career, and he knows exactly how he wants to celebrate.
tags: fem!reader, cursing, unprotected p in v sex (though reader mentions being on the pill), oral (both receiving), fingering, consent checks, doggy style, creampie, praise kink, usage of “good girl,” cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names ("baby," "princess"), slightly possessive rafe
word count: 1.7k
18+ only - minors do not interact!!!
note: I'm an Eagles fan so this is absolutely self-indulgent. Go Birds!!!
Tonight felt like an absolute dream.
You'd been with Rafe for nearly six years, since your freshman year of college. Through that time, you witnessed many highs and lows of your boyfriend's football career, celebrating after the big wins and comforting him through tough losses. And tonight, all that hard work had culminated in the ultimate prize: a Super Bowl win.
The Eagles' win had been oh-so-satisfying for you after the heartbreaking loss to the Chiefs two years ago, but the fact that the love of your life played a part in it made it even sweeter. As the confetti sprinkled down, covering the field in a sea of midnight green, silver, and black, you and Rafe found your way to each other, embracing like you hadn't seen each other in weeks. During the game, you'd been a bundle of nerves, only truly relaxing during Kendrick's halftime performance, but now you finally felt like you could breathe easy.
"I'm so proud of you, baby," you said, your eyes welling up with happy tears. You grabbed Rafe's face and kissed him deeply; he returned the kiss with equal fervor and let his hands slide to your ass. Normally you wouldn't be down for such blatant PDA, but it was a special occasion.
The night passed in a blur, filled with photo ops and plenty of revelry. The streets of New Orleans buzzed with energy, and you lived for it. You celebrated with and embraced your fellow WAGs, who'd become your family over the past two years. Rafe was in his element, popping bottles of champagne and laughing with his fellow players, and it made your heart swell with pride.
You were still feeling post-game euphoria, but part of you was ready to return to your hotel and wind down. You clung to Rafe, putting your head in his lap, and he flashed you a fond grin, stroking your hair.
"You ready to head out, baby?" Rafe murmured in your ear, and you hummed in response.
The two of you said your goodbyes and caught a ride back to the Hilton. You loved getting all dolled up for gameday, but the thought of showering and changing into some comfy pajamas was very appealing.
Once you and Rafe arrived back in your room, you stripped down to your bra and panties, preparing for a nice, long, hot shower. Rafe’s eyes hungrily raked up and down your body, and it gave you a thrill that even after all these years, he was still obsessed with your body.
"You gonna join me in the shower, Rafey, or just stand there?" you teased him, your grin a mile wide.
Rafe chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Would love to. But there's something I wanna do first, baby. I want to celebrate my win with you—properly."
A shiver of pleasure ran through your body. "Tell me you want this too, baby," Rafe said, gazing intently at you.
You bit your lip, looking at Rafe with a burning desire. "Yes, Rafey. Want this so bad."
Before you could even blink, Rafe's lips were on yours, kissing you with a passion only reserved for moments like these. Soon, though, he began to roam, nipping and kissing at your jaw, your neck, that special space behind your ear that drove you wild.
Rafe expertly unhooked your bra with one hand, flinging it to another corner of the room, before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. He sank to his knees, slowly pulling down your panties and letting out a pleasured moan at the gossamer strands of slick that clung to the fabric.
"Fucking pretty," he marveled, before hungrily diving into your wet cunt. Rafe loved playing football—he lived for the game—but his second favorite pastime was eating pussy, without a doubt. You writhed in pleasure as Rafe's tongue glided along your folds, pumping in and out of your opening before finally giving your clit some much-needed attention.
"Rafe—oh fuck—that feels so good," you whimpered as Rafe languidly sucked at your clit.
You felt a low heat in your belly as you reached your peak. Your hands flew to Rafe's hair, gently tugging at it as he took the hint and buried his face even closer into your pussy.
Your vision went white for a second as you cummed, coating Rafe's face with your slick. "Holy shit, baby," Rafe murmured, bending down to kiss you and give you a taste of the essence on his lips. "You taste so fuckin' good."
You noticed the massive tent Rafe was sporting in his pants and moaned, rubbing your legs together. “Let me take care of you, baby,” you purred. “The champ deserves his prize, after all.”
Rafe grinned lazily, quickly pulling off his pants and boxers before lying back on the bed. You knelt before him, salivating at his dick, its pink mushroom tip already wet with precum. You went to work cleaning his tip, causing your boyfriend to lose his composure.
"Shit, baby, you're so good with your mouth," Rafe said, letting out a moan as you licked up and down his shaft.
You lowered your head, taking Rafe's length into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, mouthing and licking at his cock while you fondled his balls with both hands.
"Ah, fuck, just like that, baby," Rafe groaned. "Good girl."
Those two words were like a lightning bolt to your core, spurring you to speed up your actions. Rafe grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.
"Baby—shit—I'm gonna cum." Rafe let out a particularly feral grunt before spilling down your throat, watching as you dutifully swallowed every drop.
Rafe paused, lost in a post-nut daze, before lifting you and laying you back on the bed. He took his sweet time kissing every square inch of your body, making sure to give your tits extra attention. Rafe kissed and sucked at your nipples, eliciting more whines from you as you gripped the bedsheets.
"Rafey, you're such a tease," you wailed, bucking your hips as Rafe lavished your thighs with kisses.
Rafe smirked devilishly at you. "Impatient, are we? My pretty girl that desperate f'me to fuck her stupid? Don't worry—I'll give you what you need, yeah?"
Rafe beckoned you to join him back on the bed, effortlessly turning you around so you were lying on your stomach. You stuck your ass up in the air, feeling a giddy anticipation in your gut.
Rafe slowly pushed himself into you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You said a silent word of thanks to whoever invented birth control as Rafe gripped your hips, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy.
"Goddamn, this pussy...so tight, hot, and wet for me," Rafe growled, snapping his hips as he buried himself deep inside you.
You felt dizzy, your thoughts filled with nothing except the immense pleasure Rafe was giving you. "Oh Rafey—fuck, right there," you sighed, groaning as his cock hit your g-spot.
"Can't wait to fill up this pretty pussy," Rafe muttered, deliciously stretching your walls with his length. "Yeah? You want my cum baby?" Your cunt clamped down on Rafe's dick in response, causing his eyes to roll back.
"Squeezing me so good, baby," he praised.
Just as you were in the throes of passion, Rafe...stopped, slowly pulling out of you. You pouted, already missing your boyfriend's touch.
"'m sorry, baby," Rafe said, kissing your forehead. "Just wait a sec, I got an idea."
Rafe got off the bed and rifled through your suitcase before finding a kelly green jersey with "Cameron" and his number on the back. "Y'know...I always had this fantasy of fuckin' my girl with my jersey on," he said, flashing the dirtiest grin. "Will you indulge me for the night, princess?"
You sat up, eyeing your boyfriend flirtatiously. "Hell yeah, that sounds really hot."
Rafe returned to the bed, sitting you on his lap and watching you pull the jersey over your head. Then he quickly bent you over the mattress, stuffing you with his cock again. He pistoned his hips, admiring his name on your back and the fact that you were wearing his jersey—and nothing else.
"You look so damn sexy with my name on you," Rafe drawled. "Shows that you're fuckin' mine, baby."
You cried out, feeling your legs start to shake. "Ah, yes, Rafe—'m all yours."
"Are you close, baby?" Rafe asked. When you nodded, he slid a hand down between your legs and rubbed circles on your clit. "C'mon baby. Make a mess all over my cock."
Your insides felt like a shaken-up soda bottle that was about to explode. You let out a yelp as your pussy spasmed, creaming all over Rafe's cock.
"I'm close, baby," Rafe warned, burying his head in the side of your neck. Rafe's hips stuttered as he released his load, and you sighed happily at the sensation of his warm, sticky cum filling you up.
Rafe slowly pulled out of you, licking his lips at the sight of his spunk dribbling out of you. He pulled you close to him, nuzzling your neck. "Baby—I think that was some of the best sex we've ever had."
You giggled. "You just won a freakin' Super Bowl, Rafe. You deserve nothing but the best."
Rafe looked at you fondly. "This is gonna sound so fuckin' corny but with you, I already feel like I've won. I'm the luckiest man on the damn planet."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "That was corny as fuck—but I liked it."
"And I like you," Rafe easily replied, peppering your cheeks with kisses.
You giggled. "I'll like you even more once we're both cleaned, though."
Rafe chuckled. "One shower, coming up, princess." He whisked you away to the bathroom, where y'all actually showered—you were both too spent to engage in more funny business.
Once the two of you were fully clean and in your coziest pjs (and had done your best to clean up the sheets), you and Rafe snuggled together in bed. You gazed lovingly at Rafe as you stroked his hair.
"Whatcha staring at, pretty girl?" Rafe asked, an amused glint in his eye.
"Just thinking about my boyfriend. He's really handsome and funny and he just won a Super Bowl," you playfully replied.
"Wow, he sounds like a real catch," Rafe remarked, stroking your hip.
"Yeah, he's pretty great. I'm lucky to have him," you said, gently kissing Rafe's lips.
Today had been one hell of a day. But as thrilling as the big game and all the festivities were, you had the best time right here, in Rafe's arms.
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