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#on their face their shoulders their arms their knees even
slvttyplum · 3 days
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"im working late, 'cause im a singerrrr"
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being a singer is great, you were blessed to with a nice voice, made your own schedule, had a great audience and had the sweetest support from your boyfriend. he always stayed with you on the nights you were having lack of inspiration, or you didn't want to be alone, he was right there with you.
this particular night, something shifted in the air. your legs over his while you repeatedly typed different words into the computer, hoping you would come up with something that slid off your tongue. the only thing that was on sugurus min d at that very moment was you, he couldn't get you out of his mind even when you were right beside him, his hand rubbing over your leg and going up your thigh.
licking his lips a little as he watched you type and sing a few words into the mic in the same pattern, he knew that you needed time to warm up when you came to the studio, butt you were really having a hard time, so why not help you? slowly rubbing his hand over your thigh repeatedly, trying to get you to relax, scooting closer towards you, slowly closing the laptop lying in your lap.
“come here baby.” pulling your arm, and you shuffle around and sit on his lap, his hands rubbing over your ass giving it a light squeeze as he leans in for a kiss, giving you a peck on the lips, a couple more before he fully goes for it, your eyes fluttering and your hand on the back of his head while the other is on his shoulder, his tongue slipping into your mouth and sliding over your tongue, your sweet taste rushing into his mouth.
as suguru is exploring your mouth to the fiftieth time today, his eyes sliding over to the mic laying on the other side of the couch, a blue light on meaning that it was recording, a sly smirk on his face as he gives your ass another squeeze, maybe you needed an extra boost of motivation, he could give that to you.
closing his eyes as he disconnects from the kiss, a spit string connection to the both of you but disappearing when suguru goes for your neck, sliding his tongue over an empty spot making you giggle before slowly rubbing over the bulge that was erupting in his jeans. suguru kissing over the wet spot before giving your jaw a kiss and leaning down giving your chest a kiss, his hands sliding from your ass to your back, sliding his hands under his shirt.
your hands sliding down his chest to his sweatpants, sliding your hands inside and rubbing your hands against his bulge that was already standing up against the fabric, your touch making him jolt, his sliding down from your back to the inside of your pants, messing around with the hem of your panties.
as you were playing around with his bulge, suguru slid his hands back out of your pants and pulled them down, helping you get out of them, your body shifted over weight as you lifted both your knees as suguru slid them off with ease. he couldn't hold back anymore, he wanted you so bad that he couldn't even think about what he wanted to do next, your scent and your warm core hanging over his bulge.
once your pants were off, he wasn't going to wait for one more second to not be inside of you, he had to be inside of you, or he thought he was going to die. pushing his hips up as he takes off his sweatpants along with his briefs, his dick shooting up and his pre-cum coating the tip of his dick. his fingers hooking on your panties and pulling them to the side as you hold his throbbing dick in your hands, your thumb rubbing over the tip of his glistening dick.
“go ahead.” his eyes looking at you intensely as you slowly adjust yourself and slide down on him, a low groan sliding past his lips, his hands gripping your ass with full force making you moan, suguru leaning in kissing your neck, your pace on his dick still slow, you wanted to enjoy every inch that was inside you but you and suguru were on two different speeds, his hips bucking poking your sweet spot.
your hands gripped on his shoulders as he bucks his hips more, his pace so fast you couldn't even think about your next move, the only thing you can do is moan, your body jolting with pleasure and bouncing at rapid speed. each time the tip of his dick hits your sweet spot, your body slouches, your head on his shoulders, your moans spilling onto his neck.
“you can take it. tell me you can take it.” the sounds of your skin slapping against his, your forehead bouncing against his shoulder, trying to keep your moans to a minimum, but you couldn't, his dick slid against your walls with ease, drool slipping out of your mouth and onto his shoulder.
“i can take it.” whimpering out into his neck, but it was loud enough for the mic to hear and that's exactly what he wanted., your walls closing in on his dick, your eyes squeezing shut as you let the pleasure wash over you. suguru letting his cum ooze out inside of you, a low groan escaping out pass his lips, his hand giving your ass one last grip before giving your cheek a kiss.
“you're welcome.”
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donatellawritings · 17 hours
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I jus wanna shut my baby brain off and let big bad daddy rafey take care of me :(
oh this is sooo muñeca & sugar daddy!rafe coded …
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
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you were entirely too emotional and high-strung — but who could blame you? with your skyrocketing hormones and mere hours that stood between your sweet papi rafe going back home to kildare, while you remained in culebra was becoming way too much for you to handle. and rafe couldn’t find it in himself to reprimand you, you’d been doing so well when it came to putting your big girl panties on and fighting back the impending waterworks that welled at your waterline, whenever it came time for rafe to go back home — you practiced!
but, unfortunately you’d lost every ounce of your resolve when your doe eyes fell on the two suitcases that sat at the edge of rafe’s bed.
sat in the middle of the plush firmness of the california king bed, your small body hiccuping with incessant cries, you curled your knees into your chest, “on-one — more — day,” you squeaked out, your jumbled words cut into choppy huffs of air as rafe pursed his lips into a tight line.
stood firmly beside the bed with his hands planted on his waist, rafe pinched the bridge of his nose with a knowing sigh, “c’mon, kid — y’been through this many times already, yeah?” met with a sharp cry from you, rafe is quick to switch into complete father-figure mode, letting out a piercing whistle, “hey! cut it out, y’gonna knock y’self out, cryin’ like that,” he scolds, his voice firm as you raise your puffy-tear stained face from your knees with a sniffle.
“quédate conmigo, please papi,” you squeak out, stretching both of your arms out in a reach towards rafe, your bottom lip all wobbly.
taking a seat at the edge of the bed, rafe opens an arm, beckoning you into his lap with a flick of his two signet-ringed fingers as you immediately and obediently crawl into his lap with a whimper, “a’ight, no more cryin’ — don’t need y’passin out on me before i go, hm?” rafe soothes, bringing his hand seamlessly clasp around the back of your neck.
nodding the side of your cherub cheek against rafe’s collarbone, you let out a breath of relief, “when d-do you come back,” you question softly, your doe eyes all sore and heavy from your earlier sobs as you quickly knuckle away the wetness at the tip of your nose.
“no … do not start that, you hear me?” rafe scolds, his free hand lightly tapping the side of your soft thigh, earning a frustrated mewl from you. squeezing your neck, rafe urges a verbal answer from you.
much to rafe’s very dismay, his corrective tone only set you off even further — you didn’t want your papi to be mad at you before he left. so, your bambi eyes were quick to well with warm tears, a warning sniffle itching at your nose as you shook your head, before heaving into rafe’s neck.
“fuck — okay, princess. hey, need y’to look at your papi now, yeah? can y’look at me — can’t look at me if y’cryin, pretty girl,” rafe coos, gently pulling your leg to straddle his hips as he pushes your face up to meet his, with a slight nudge of his shoulder. met with red and glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, rafe brings both of his hands to cradle each side of your face.
“a’ight, need y’to a good girl while m’gone, okay? y’gonna be a good girl for daddy?” rafe questions, slightly mushing your cheeks together as you huff out a wobbly breath, before licking over your swollen lips.
softly nodding in rafe’s grasp, you sniffle, “yes.”
allowing a satisfied smirk to play on his lips, rafe pulls your face down, leaning forehead against his, “good. now, i need y’to go to sleep, kid. i won’t be here when you wake up, but —”
fat tears are quick to brim your lower lash line as you whine in rafe’s grasp, “no—”
shushing you with a corrective tut, rafe pecks your lips in a silencing kiss, “shh … i always come back for you, don’t i? always call you, send you pretty presents — got you that laptop s’you can see me when y’get sad, yeah?”
with an appreciative nod, your lips brush against rafe — your papi always kept his promises, “g-going to mi-miss you,” you shudder, your voice all cracked and uneven as you stare directly into rafe’s bright baby blues, silently wishing you’d be able to make him stay just one more night.
“i know, kid,” rafe sighs, gently easing the both of you to fall back on the bed, one arm secured around your waist as he slides a free hand to the back of your head, lightly scratching at your scalp, “promise, m’gonna come back and take good care of you, yeah? s’my job to make sure m’little girl is happy,” he coos, leaving you to nod against his neck as you slowly, but surely begin to doze off.
whispering sweet nothing into your sleepy ear, rafe remains awake, until he’s one hundred percent sure that your asleep, your parted lips blowing warm air against his neck. once your breathing calmed into a steady rhythm, rafe was careful about maneuvering your drowsy body, carefully removing the small hand that rested on his face and placing it on his chest.
it was never easy for rafe to leave his girl in an island that was so far from him. he liked being in control and in the know of all moving parts in your day to day, so leaving you to fend for yourself — despite being waited in hand and foot by the hired help of the villa — rafe fought the urge to fly you to kildare altogether. you were still so wet behind the ears, so fragile and sentimental, such a transition would be way too much for your little heart to handle.
placing the pillow that sat under his head to rest in the tight hold of your arms, rafe reaches for the powder pink iphone that sits on the nightstand, placing it beside the pillow, ready for your use, the moment you woke up.
you just hoped that your papi rafe would be proud that you were awake the entire time and didn’t cry … because you practiced!
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Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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sunboki · 3 days
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— FOR THE NIGHT. a Christopher Bahng fiction
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Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
WORD COUNT. 1.1k words
AUG'S NOTES. this bangchan is from my “Korea’s Most Wanted” universe because i have yet to get over him from october…
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“Bin, you said it was shipped friday.” The man, Christopher Bahng, grumbles, massaging the pinch between his brows.
His counterpart, Bin, whom he was now quarreling with on the phone groaned profusely, claiming how shipments were already slow—not to mention with the new investigations on his business underway.
The life of The Gunsman isn’t an easy one. It’s a constant game of tag against the police and the government while wielding a well-planned dictionary of excuses to avoid suspicion. 
So now, as Bahng’s precious system becomes increasingly jeopardized, he finds himself losing more and more sleep to a worrisome degree.
And, having left the party filled with chairman, associates, and colleagues alike, Bahng slips into the safety of his car, once again troubled with the demands this illegal trade calls for.
“Well tell him I’ll have to serve his head on a platter if the ammunition doesn’t arrive by Friday. I’m running a charity event with how many funds I’ve given the idiot.”
Although halfway into Bin’s response, a quiet, though audible sound rustles in his backseat.
Instantly, he’s lurched a pistol from his thigh, aimed directly at the responsible interruption.
“Bahng. Bahng?” Bin echoes, only to be hung up on as Chris takes in the sight before him.
Lying in his backseat, curled up in a miniature ball, is a girl.
Your face is wrinkled in discomfort, hand resting right below your cheek, smushed against his car, a Lamborghini’s, interior.
How you got here without him noticing is beyond him, how long you’ve been here an even larger mystery.
His hand falters with the pistol, gawking with obvious surprise prior to stuffing the weapon back into its leather holster.
Instinctively, he would’ve called an assistant, asked them to take you home, find someone who knew you. Except, by the look of your current state, he has an inkling you wouldn’t be the greatest help navigating.
You’re gone.
Plus, the party’s already drawing to a close, people scattering out in every direction. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself.
Bahng may work illegally, lacking the fear of blood on his hands, but he’s not heartless.
Stifling a sigh, he rakes a hand through his hair, repeatedly clearing his throat in the case you woke up.
Leave it to him to end up with a random girl in his backseat.
Fine. Home it is.
Or, one of his many homes in the area.
Starting the engine, he spares repeated glances at you on the drive back, simply met with your same, woeful expression. Eyes screwed shut, lips pursed, cheeks stained a pink hue.
Pulling in, he stalls in the front seat, debating on all his morals up till now.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this..” Words a mere mutter, he carefully opens your door, gingerly dragging you out from your awkward position.
Knees pulled to your chest, Bahng keeps one, scarred hand on your back and another beneath your thighs while your head hangs, both hands bunched into fists, pressed to your chest.
Scared.
Whatever happened before, however you got here, you were scared—that much was known.
Somehow, the realization had him holding you closer.
Swiping the code to the door, he silently curses the loud beep, confusing himself with his concern for you.
Why did he care? You’d wake up, he’d get your home address and send you off. Why was he now so conscious about your comfort?
Heading up the winding stairs, he pulls his office chair from its place, deciding water as the best option.
“I’m going to put you down for a second, okay?”
Gently idling you into the chair, his movements halt when your arms reach up around his shoulders, a soft, barely divisible whine slipping past your lips, unwilling to let go.
He can barely recognize anything with how loud his heart rams against his rib cage.
Pull yourself together Bahng.
Ensuring you were still asleep, he slips into the kitchen, filling a glass with water before returning to you.
Your head jerks from when he holds the rim to your mouth, unwilling to cooperate.
“Just water sweetness,” He soothed, hating how worried he was, how senseless this behavior was.
Yet, he only continued to ease you into each sip, palm cupping your cheek for support, narrowly masking his astonishment when your eyes slowly opened, barely awake.
“Mm..?” Your vocal cords betray you, leering on the verge of dream and reality as you try acknowledging your surroundings.
No amount of recollection aids your perception in figuring out how you got here, only aware of the blaring ache in your head and a strangers voice in the distance.
One thing’s for certain. You feel awful.
Discerning the splash of water dumped down a sink, you’re once again hoisted into his arms, disappearing back into unconsciousness as Bahng nudges open his bedroom door, settling down on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t mean to man-handle you, but we need to get these shoes off.”
Situating you upright, his arm slips down, propping each of your ankles where he can pull the heels from your feet.
Softly placing you down, he savors your feeble grip grasping at his clothing, gradually loosening in an attempt at holding his face.
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay here all night sweets, you’re gonna have to let go,” Bahng whispers, easing your wrists down to your sides.
Unfortunately? What’s gotten into him?
Although, just as he adjusts the comforter over you, turning to go, he hears a sniffle.
C’mon, ignore it, she’s fine.
Another sniffle.
Screw it.
“If you tell me where you live I can take you home?” He utters, lingering by your bedside like a child waiting to hear if they can go on a play date.
It’s painful admitting the effect your tears have on him, brows creasing so sadly in a way he can’t ignore.
“Are… Are you gonna hurt me?” You whimper, feeling absolutely exhausted the longer your mind races, frantically piecing together any clues of your whereabouts to no avail.
The pad of his thumb wiping free falling tears, he shakes his head, a miniature smile gracing usually serious, unmoving features.
“I can’t say I haven’t hurt someone before, but I’m not gonna hurt you, alright sweetness?”
Nodding fervently, his face contorts, admiring the adorable manner you blink up at him, lashes all clumped from crying.
Look, his ego isn’t too fragile to admit you’re cute.
“..How did I get here?”
Bahng chuckles.
“I don’t know the answer to that myself.”
Freeing your arm from his sheets, you furiously rub your eyes, frown tugging at the corner of your lips, hiccuping as your breathing shallows.
“I know things are scary when you’re this drunk. I promise everything will be a thousand times better in the morning.”
And with that, he pulls the comforter over you, bidding a quiet good night and nearing the door for a second time.
This time, you intervene, latching onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Thank you.”
What did he just get himself into.
He sucks his teeth, surveying the sleepy eyes you’re torturing him with.
“Don’t mention it.”
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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running-with-kn1ves · 8 hours
Text
Fitness Trainer
A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)
Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.
TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content
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And up... and down, just like that."
The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 
"One more, you can do one more for me."
"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 
"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."
He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 
“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”
The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.
You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 
You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 
You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 
Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 
“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 
You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 
Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 
His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 
He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”
You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.
“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 
“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 
You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 
“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”
Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 
“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 
“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 
He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.
“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 
It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 
Antoine shook your shoulders. 
“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”
“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.
“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 
“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 
“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”
The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 
“O-okay.. I guess..” 
He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 
He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 
“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 
You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 
“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 
“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.
The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 
“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.
With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 
“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 
You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 
“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.
Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 
“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 
Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 
“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 
“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 
You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!
Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 
Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 
His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 
He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 
Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 
His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 
 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 
Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 
Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 
247 notes · View notes
thecuriousquest · 2 days
Text
The King of Curses and His Concubine
Trigger Warning: NSFW, heavy yandere themes, dominant behavior, ass play, spitting kink, ass fucking, dub con, concubine, mentions of murder, psychological control
@murderofravens
Master List
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Sukuna pulls you over his knee. You think you’re about to get a spanking. You don’t necessarily like it when he does punish you in this way, especially since you haven’t done anything to deserve it. However, you’re more than surprised when he grabs the fat of your cheeks and pulls them apart. His gaze lingers on your fluttering hole. You can’t see the smile on his face, the predatory smirk full of sadistic satisfaction. Even more, you can feel his hard cock poking your stomach as you lay bent over his lap.
You hear him swirling something in his mouth, can tell his tongue is moving with the motion, amplifying the sound. You look over your shoulder just in time to see his mouth form the shape of an O. You watch the saliva shoot forth from his lips as it coats your asshole, seeping into it slowly.
The lines on his face contort into a feral and sloppy grin as he plunges two fingers deep inside of you. In and out. In and out. Fast, then slow. Fast again, slow again, faster and faster as he targets your sensitive walls. He spreads his fingers in the shape of a V while keeping them inserted inside of you.
Oh, you’re a writhing mess over his lap. You can’t stand it. His beefy fingers, his strong hand pumping between your cheeks. You were scared at first, but now you’re about to come repeatedly.
And you do. You orgasm on his lap over and over again. He is completely taking control of your overstimulation, not even giving you an inch of room to plead for anything. Even if you could talk, which he took great measures to get you to a point of brain fog, you wouldn’t ask for him to stop.
Incoherent babbling is all you’re capable of now as your tongue hangs out of your mouth while you go limp over his sturdy thigh. You come one last time, all nice and sloppily wet for him, drool and tears of pleasure pooling and mixing together on the wooden floor beneath you.
With two of his four arms, he picks you up. Your body moving with his will as you’re too exhausted to resist. You’re so docile, so compliant, such a good girl. He moves you on his lap, your back to his chest. Sukuna uses his other two hands to spread your thighs widely. His hard cock lines up with the edge of your asshole, nestled nicely between your cheeks. His spit and pre acting as a lubricant.
Sukuna pushes your body down roughly, and you cry out. You don’t even have to do any work. He enjoys bouncing your body on his cock. You’re all under his control. You just have to comply and try not to move as much as possible. Like a large train trying to fit through a small tunnel, his cock fills you up completely. You look down and watch as Sukuna brings the hand that was holding your left thigh up to your puffy little clit.
You can’t help but let your head fall back against his shoulder. He’s pushing you into yet another orgasm. You can feel it as the rough pad of his large pointer and middle finger circle and swirl on the little button of nerves.
“Good whores deserve all sorts of rewards, my cock being one of them,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sultry and powerful, even the softness in which he speaks right now is still filled with authority.
“M…m…mas…ter!”
“You can’t even say it. Pathetic. You really are just a sloppy, submissive little slut. It’s a good thing you’re pretty, because you really don’t have much in that head of yours.”
He laughs as he induces another orgasm while he pumps your ass with his thick and veiny erection.
You feel him fill you up, and as goes flaccid, he decides to hold you closely; two arms wrapped beneath your breasts, and two arms hugging your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder while you lean back against him, panting and sweaty, thoroughly exhausted.
“You really are the best one out of all of them. Maybe, I should kill the others and just have you,” he says more to himself as he brushes your nipple with his thumb.
You hear him, but you don’t dare say anything. Sukuna has always been kinder to you because you are his favorite concubine, but he is still a cruel master. You always keep this in mind, never letting your guard down around him just because he can be so fickle.
“Would you like that, Y/N? Would that please you?”
You only let the silence hang between you two as you formulate the correct response.
“If it makes you happy, Master…then it makes me happy as well.”
And if you are responsible for the death of those twenty-five girls, then so be it. You know better than to give any other kind of response to Sukuna by now. By the many, many excruciating lessons he has taught you before, you damn well know better by now…
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poptheweasel · 3 days
Text
Turkish Delight
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Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.
He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.
And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.
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Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.
That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.
His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.
Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.
“Hey, you.”
Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.
Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.
“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.
“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?
“Like what you see?”
Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.
The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.
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After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.
Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.
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Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.
The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.
Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.
Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.
After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.
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Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.
Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.
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This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.
The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.
Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.
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Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.
The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.
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The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.
Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.
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The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.
“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…
“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!
“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”
“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.
—————————————————
Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!
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cordeliawhohung · 3 days
Note
Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.
The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.
So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️
(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)
thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3
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The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.
You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.
As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.
Put him back with the other model.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.
"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."
You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.
"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.
"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.
Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.
"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."
He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.
Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.
The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.
His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.
"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.
"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.
A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.
It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.
Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.
"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.
There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.
"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."
"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.
"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."
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sukunasteeth · 17 hours
Text
Insomnia
You had always had trouble sleeping.
As a child, you would wander the house in search of something to do, as a teenager you utilized it for spending countless nights painting the town red with your childhood best friend Yuji, but, as an adult, you find yourself spending more and more nights sitting in front of the window, waiting for the sun to rise in a peaceful quiet. 
The view was always better from your partner Sukuna’s apartment. Tucked into the very top of a complex that scraped against the sky, the city stretched out before his ceiling length windows like an endless mirage of glittering light. Looking out of them, you would never know it was three o’clock in the morning. The city still bustled, people the size of ants crossed the main streets below you in swathes of different walks of life; business men lost to highballs with too much whiskey, friends on their way to the next nightclub, shop workers calling to anyone with a pulse on the sidewalk. It was a perfect people-watching spot and a perfect distraction from the nightmare replaying in your head like a broken record. 
You’re sitting on the cold tile floors of his living room, curled up in a blanket you had taken from the arm of the couch. You’re positive Sukuna had never used it before and that it’s always been a decoration before you had arrived. Now, it was part of your nightly routine when Sukuna had you over to unfold it and curl in, while you spent countless hours drifting off in your own mind waiting for morning. 
It wouldn’t be long before Sukuna was up now, he had a meeting at seven o’clock in the morning that day. The two of you hadn’t gone to sleep until around midnight, naked and content. You wished you could sleep as deeply as he had been when you carefully crawled out of his bed half an hour ago, but you had accepted your insomnia by now. You found ways to live with the burden of it, and you had long since made friends with the silence and peace of nightfall. 
You always did feel guilty when Sukuna was affected by it. Like tonight, when your ears catch the door to his bedroom clicking open and you hear his bare feet against the tile approaching the living room. 
Your heart momentarily skips a beat. You think about hiding- sprinting into the bathroom as an excuse for your late night absence from his bed, but he makes it into the threshold of the living room before you get a chance to decide. 
Despite the guilt washing over you like a bucket of cold water, your heart still warms at the sight of him. He’s slipped into a pair of sweats to come find you and is still in the middle of putting on a tank top when he appears, sleepy and squinting against the light of the city signs glaring in. His hair is still a mess from your fingers pulling on it before bed, which somehow makes him even more heart wrenching to look at. Even when his eyes find you on the floor, and he immediately frowns you’re still starstruck by his sleep drunk appearance. 
“Why are you so good at that?” His voice is thick with sleep, but he talks to you as though you were just in the middle of a conversation. 
You tilt your head at him, peering over your shoulder in confusion. “Good at what?” 
“Leaving without waking me.” He scratches at the back of his head, yawning as he makes his way across the room to come stand beside you. One of his hands sweeps down his face, like he’s trying to wipe away his clear exhaustion. 
“It’s no easy task.” You admit, hoping your innocent smile is enough for him not to push any further. He stares down at you for a moment, searching your eyes reflecting in the neon of the city line. 
He huffs through his nose when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, muttering to himself as he plops down beside you and folds his legs into a cross-legged position. He’s close enough that his side is flush against yours, his knee resting over top of your own, grounding you. “So stubborn.” You hear him say. 
As if it were second nature, you immediately rest your head against his shoulder and his arm comes around your waist in turn, scooting you even closer to him. The two of you fit together perfectly by now. Constantly trading off between who was yin and who was yang, but always in equilibrium when you were side by side.
“I need to get you a bell.” He murmurs against the shadows of his living room.
You chuckle, “Yeah? Gonna collar me?” You’re just poking fun, but when you peek up at him expecting him to be chuckling too, you find his eyes honed in on your neck, like he’s considering it. 
He doesn’t give you an answer to that one, but you can see it in his eyes that your joke has been taken as a suggestion to be logged away for future use. You bury your face into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. 
You don’t take it back.
 The two of you sit like that for a while, allowing Sukuna’s presence to diffuse the unease from your haunting dreams. He doesn’t have to do much to comfort you. When Sukuna was beside you, comfort was a given. He joins you in silent people-watching, his hand protectively curled over your backside as though he can feel the nightmares lingering just out of his sight. 
After a while, he squeezes you to catch your attention, but doesn’t ask you to pull away from your resting place against him. 
He turns his head to press his lips into your temple, and the way he whispers your name then has you convinced you’d tell him any secret you promised you’d take straight to the grave.  “Why are we awake?” He asks.  
“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper back,  as though you were afraid that the nightmares would hear you and realize they had won. 
Sukuna takes a few seconds breathing in your scent, patiently waiting for you to give him more information. He hums in disappointment when it’s clear that that’s all you were willing to share at the moment. 
“Suppose I didn’t work you hard enough last night.” 
It’s a joke. Such an obvious one that you can’t help but let out a laugh despite your thoughts weighing heavily. 
“Please,” You plead in a groan, “I barely made it to the living room without crawling on my hands and knees.” This was not a joke. Your legs shook like jello the moment you were on your feet and they ache with the memory of overexertion even when you're sitting. 
“I do love you on your hands and knees.” Another suggestion that you can tell he’s logged away for future use. At this point you were doing it to yourself.
 You still don’t take it back, though. 
“Let’s see,” He clears his throat and his voice takes a different cadence now, no longer conscientious of the time of night… or day rather. “The last time you had a nightmare and I caught you out here, you asked me to make you pancakes. I think I still have the mix in the cupboard…” 
You freeze up against him, your head moving mechanically upwards until you’re face to face with him. The man who reads you like a book. When you’ve tried so hard to stay shut up. When you’ve worked your entire life at achieving the perfect poker face. Time and time again he proves to you that it’s useless when he’s got your soul tucked away in his hold, yet, it never stops surprising you. 
Sukuna tilts his head, smiling like you’ve confirmed his suspicions with just one glance. “What? You think I don’t know that much, at the very least? How aloof you are~” 
He takes the opportunity to scoop your hair away from your shoulder and tuck a few strands behind your ears so that he can see your sleep deprived face clearly. At the same moment, his free hand reaches over and finds yours in the blankets.
He's smug with your shock.
“How long are you going to try to hide from me?” 
“I’m not hiding…” You whisper, even your own voice cannot bear to lie to him. He makes a warning noise, leaning closer like he can tell. 
“One day I’ll know it all. Every secret you want to keep from me. Every dream you’re too shy to tell me.” His mere proximity is enough to scramble your mind. The way his lips play just out of your reach, the way his nose brushes yours ever so slightly, the way his thumb presses into your ring finger, all of it has your focus split into too many incapacitating directions. “Your burdens. Your nightmares. All mine to bear.” 
You don’t doubt him. It’s yourself that you find apprehensive to trust. Convinced that your own mind was going to torture you with him there or not. You had spent years battling insomnia alone, and while you hated to deny him, you hated to get your own hopes up too.
“You can’t scare away all my nightmares, my love.” 
"Hmm, is that right?” Sukuna lifts your hand to his face, presses it against his lips, and places a kiss to the very center of your palm. It's almost as sweet as his next words, “Sounds like I'll just have to give you so many good dreams you’ll forget about the bad ones, then.” 
You wonder if you looked as awestruck as you felt in that moment.
He’s won. He knows he’s won. You can tell by that prideful toothy grin you feel him hiding behind your hand, the one you can see in the curve of his eyes. 
The way your heart climbs into your throat, like it’s desperate to be home in the palm of his hands, has you instantly knowing that you were truly a hopeless cause at this point. 
“When did you become so soft and sweet?” 
Sukuna laughs under his breath, “When I found out that’s just how you like it.” He answers easily, like he’s asked himself the same question before.  
“Now, do you want the pancakes or not?” 
Before you can remind him that he has a meeting in only a few hours, before you can assure him that you weren’t thinking of food at three o’clock in the morning, your stomach releases a growl that’s begging for Sukuna’s undivided attention. 
He snorts, not even bothering to wait for a verbal answer before he’s maneuvering to his feet, still grasping your hand gently in his own. 
“Come sit pretty on the counter for me.” He tugs you. “It’s cold out here.”
You don't think you've ever felt warmer.
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lushaletta · 3 days
Text
the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle
pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle
content: muggleborn!reader, swearing
summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.
a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!
read part one here!
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.
Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”
You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”
He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”
Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.
He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.
And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”
His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”
He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”
You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”
His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.
You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.
“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”
He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”
Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.
It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.
He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.
“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.
He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”
You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”
Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.
He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”
What a fucking tool.
The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.
You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.
“Riddle. Are you joking me?”
Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”
She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”
“That’s silly.”
“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”
“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.
“Well, no—“
“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.
Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.
“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”
You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.
Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.
So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.
And Tom always gets what he wants.
taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!
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fungal-rot · 11 hours
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Daddy’s Girl
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summary: this is actually a part two of Sweet, Domestic Life. i’m glad y’all thought it was cute bc i love joel having a happy life and being a family man (but tbf idk if i like this or not) also i’ve been reading writing tips and whatnot and even had a friend go over this for me (she helped so much) !! i hope you can notice a (good) difference shskdhakal
warnings: your child is a menace (affectionate), f!reader, reader is referred to as mama, the daughter is nicknamed ‘Bug’, so sweet it’ll rot your teeth, i also don’t know how to properly write toddlers lol
w.c.: 1k
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
    A soft, content sigh escaped your lips as you sat on the bed, crossing your legs as you neatly folded laundry and separated each article of clothing into its own pile. Joel was not as contented; he chased your little girl up and down the hall, her high-pitched squealing bouncing off the walls as she scuttled away, and he followed in hot pursuit with heavy feet that thundered after her with every laugh and giggle.
You heard Joel ask with an accusing tone, "What do you have in your hand?" Your ears perked up, and as soon as you lifted your head, you saw your three-year-old come barreling in. With a wide, shit-eating grin plastered on her face, making her cheeks appear rounder, she held her closed fist out in front of her.
"Mama!" She hollered and rushed to the edge of the bed, her free hand gripping and fisting at the bed sheets as she clambered up the mattress and placed a tiny foot against the frame of the bed to hoist herself up, trying her best to reach you.
"Bug!" You exclaimed with a dramatic widening of your eyes, dropping the shirt you held, and raising your arms slightly before grabbing her and settling her onto your lap. Joel joined next and propped an arm against the door frame as his chest heaved from the chase he had just endured. His brows bunched together, but a playful smile stretched his lips, clearly thrilled to be a part of the game.
"Nuh-uh," he said with a shake of his head and walked forward, "Mama can't help ya." Then he reached for the toddler once again.
Your eyes narrowed as you were about to argue but stopped short as Bug screeched in your ear. The sudden noise made you recoil with a wince. Your neck craned to the side, and you arched your brows while you blinked rapidly and waited for her to simmer down.
After a minute, you tilted your head to look down at her, "You done?" You ask softly and tuck a wavy strand of hair behind her ear.
Her head bobbled in response, "Yeah," she sucked in her lips and shifted in your lap, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt to balance herself.
You nod back and carefully remove her hand from the shirt, preventing her from possibly tugging the collar too low. "Okay," you whisper, then turning back to Joel. You resume your theatrical act, cradling your daughter's head to your shoulder protectively as you give him a mock pout.
"Not so fast, Miller," you say dramatically, "You bein' mean to my girl?"
The little girl had her hands tucked under her chin as she peeked at Joel with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Your husband noticed this, of course, and shot her a lighthearted glare.
"If anything, she's the mean one," he retaliated with a vague gesture of his hand and moved to lay down beside the two of you. "Makin' an old man with a bad back and bad knees run around like that." He added, followed by a soft exhale as he brought his hands to his stomach and clasped them together.
You snorted faintly and observed him with mild amusement as he got comfortable. You then avert your gaze to the fidgeting child in your lap. "I heard Daddy ask what you got in your hand," you tell her, tilting your head curiously. "Wanna show me what it is?"
Her nose scrunched as she bared her teeth in a goofy grin and brought her hands from under her chin, splaying them open to reveal-
"Nothing?" Your head reeled back with a laugh. Ah, of course. She was getting her father riled up for the sake of it, truly a chip off the old block.
Joel chuckled under his breath, bringing a hand from his torso to rub tiredly at his face.
"Glad I've got my girls ta keep me on my toes." He mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he opened his eyes again and glanced between you. Your daughter wormed free from your hold and crawled onto Joel's lap, her little hands splayed across his chest as she gazed down at him.
" 'S'a joke, Daddy." She explained, her shoulders bobbing up and down with a happy lilt in her voice. "Bellie told me." Ah, that would explain it. Joel couldn't deny that Ellie's favorite pastime seemed to be finding ways to get under his skin, and now that had also expanded to his other daughter.
" 'Course she did," Joel replied, flicking his gaze to you, his expression mostly neutral with a faint look of amusement. You noticed your daughter's lip slightly parted with a soft yawn, and her eyes dropped ever so slightly, which signaled the two of you that she was starting to get sleepy.
"Yeah, bein' a li'l menace is tirin' ain't it, Bug?" Joel cooed playfully and touched her back, gently lowering her to lay against his chest.
You watched the interaction fondly and felt your heart flutter.
You couldn’t deny it; your daughter was a daddy's girl through and through, always seeking out the time she could spend with him, running to him with open arms when he came home after patrol, and always being under his feet, which he would always welcome with equal enthusiasm.
You finished folding the rest of the laundry and gathered each pile, placing them in their respective spots within the dresser. As you worked, you listened as Joel quietly sang, "Bye, Baby Buntin," his words slowly trailing off as he did. You turned back to see the pair fast asleep, the two embracing each other.
A warm feeling rushed through your body, and you silently padded over to the bed, reaching for the comforter folded at the end and throwing it open. You placed it over the pair and gently kissed each of their foreheads before turning off the lamp, then snuggled in next to them and closed your eyes, savoring this moment of peace and contentment.
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
sorry it’s so short ahh !! i just wanted to write something real quickie. thank you for reading and comments/reblogs are always appreciated <33
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grimm-writings · 3 days
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on my hands and knees begging you to write that legally blonde idea… obsessed with the idea of reader thinking chil wants to get back w his ex vs chil just wanting to be friends and crushing hard on reader
take it like a man!
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…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader
…tags! fluff, reader is into fashion
…wc! 2294
…notes! chilchuck tims and emmett forrest are the same to me (my type). this is so incredibly self indulgent thank you for enabling me anon.  a lot of dialogue is paraphrased from the song/show, such is the way of songfics. enjoy!
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Oh, how Chilchuck wished he could say no to you.
He didn’t know what he was expecting from you and Marcille’s ‘sweep your wife off her feet operation’, otherwise shortened to SYWOHF which Chilchuck pointed out was an awful name for a campaign.  You elected to ignore him.
In actuality, he really wanted to just do this his own way.  What he had in mind was just to pay a visit and talk things through.  As those with a little womanly touch, you and Marcille knew that wouldn’t be enough.  Chilchuck had to prove he was serious about this – that he really wanted his wife back in his life!
Seeing how excited you were showing off your step by step plan… he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he really just wanted to remain friends with her.
So, here he is.  Having his eyes covered by your hands as you guide him through the busy streets of… who knows where.
“Almost there,” your breathless though excited voice reaches his ears, “I promise!”
You finally slow to a stop, and Chilchuck also gets the chance to speak about his thoughts on this.  Simply being, “this is pointless.  We don’t need to be doing all this.”
Scoffing, you fold your arms.  “Don’t be like that!  A conversation isn’t the only way to win her over.”
“No,” Chilchuck starts, “but it would sure make me look desperate!”  He swats your hands off and away from his face.  His back is turned away from the building you’re arguing outside of, not even bothering to see what you’re doing.
You frown.  Chilchuck doesn’t easily get so frustrated with you.  That’s what people usually say – if anyone can convince him to do anything, it’d be you.  “Chil,” you try to appeal.  You even try physically reaching out, hand hovering over his shoulder.  “Work with me here.  We can do this in a way that will prove yourself, and let her know you’ve changed.  For the better.”
Chilchuck listens to you, sparing you a sidelong glance as you go on with your speech.  “You make it sound like we’re in some romance novel.  This isn’t ‘for the better’ I just want to talk to her.”
“No you don’t, you want her back in your life!”
“Well…!”  Chilchuck stutters at how blunt your words are.  You are way too observant for your own good.  He never knows how to talk to you cooly when you do this.  “Well, of course I do!  And I can do that by slowly building up trust between us again, without rushing anyone.”
Where Chilchuck expects begging to follow through with your scheme, you simply look at him with a cold expression– colder than he’s ever seen you wear.  “So you have the chance to run away again if things get too much?  Sacrificing your integrity?”
You’re both lucky this little nook in the streets was away from most crowds.  Save for the passersby' conversations, the silence would have been strife with weight.  Chilchuck opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He repeats the action, and tries to use his hands to communicate his thoughts to no avail.
He settles for turning away from you in angered shame, fists balled at his sides and tips of his ears growing red.  “...I guess.”
You smile, knowing you have swayed the half-foot to your side.  Even in the dungeon, your debates went this way.  Chilchuck would present a cynical, logical approach whilst you were more realistic – something your appearance doesn’t really match with.  Chilchuck thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Not like he’d say that to your face.
Hearing your confident hum, Chilchuck sighs and turns back to you.  “Why do you always have to be right?”  He complains about this constantly.  You always seem to one-up him in ways he can never prepare for.
“I don’t have to be,” your attitude and voice returns to its usual, jovial form, “when I’m with you, I just am!”
You reach over to Chilchuck once more right as he’s about to make a scathing comment back at you.  His face is a bit too close for comfort with a wooden door, an entrance somewhere.
“You trust me to help you impress your wife, don’t you?”  You ask, with a clear sense of finality.
Chilchuck doesn’t think he has much of a choice in the matter.  “...Of course,” he responds honestly but you can hear his voice waver.
He can practically sense your smile from behind.  “Then don’t stop now.”
You wish you could say without a spot of bias that you were 100% supporting the operation at hand.  In actuality, it came with a heavy sacrifice of your own feelings remaining unsaid.  Of course you just had to fall for the semi-married man.  You have already tried to move on, from distracting yourself with an operation like this, to asking Izutsumi to pummel your head with a rock (which she was very close to doing).
This will have to do.
It was like magic, how the environment of the building interior rushes through you.  Chilchuck even feels it, his large eyes blinking as he drinks in the sight.
“...Where are we?” he asks, almost dreamily.  A beautiful ceiling lamp shines onto coloured wallpaper.  The scent reminds him of the kind of perfume Marcille would use.  It’s strangely… alluring.
You lean your face over Chilchuck’s shoulder.  “Oh, nothing much.  Just the most trendy half-foot exclusive clothing store in Kahka Brud.”  You can easily sense Chilchuck’s shock from this position – amusing you greatly.  “Here.”
You stand up behind Chilchuck again, massaging his shoulders.  “Just take a deep breath, and let it sink in.  We’ll be here for a bit so get used to the smells and lights.  Feel how it draws you in.”
“I’m feelin’ it alright,” Chilchuck responds, moreso about how he has no idea what convinces people to remain in these environments for so long without feeling overstimulated.
He already feels hot with how you’re handling him.
You move around so you’re in front of Chilchuck.  “Listen, I know this can be… overwhelming,” you start, giving the understatement of the century, “but think about who you’re doing this for.  Swallow your pride and… pick out anything you think is nice.  I’ll do the same.”
Chilchuck nods, about to set off, but not before you take his face, squishing his cheeks a comedic amount so he’s forced to pout and look you in the eye.
“Promise me you won’t run.  Take it like a man, alright?”
You let him go, and Chilchuck swears the heat on his body is from the stuffy maze of clothes stalls.  As he navigates the first selection of half-foot men’s clothes he sees, he tries to ignore the thoughts that seem to non-stop course through his brain.
He’s largely unsuccessful.
What are you getting out of this?  Some sort of second-hand pride at bringing together two estranged lovers?  Wait ‘til you find out the truth – that those aren’t where his true feelings lie.  Why can’t you leave well enough alone?
Why does he let you string him along with every plan you come up with?
You arrive back with a couple of blazer–pants combos, calling out Chilchuck’s name as you do so.  Damn, you sure are speeding through the process.
“So, I took the liberty of picking some of the more fancy kinds of suits.”  You hold them up in your arms.  “Whaddya think?”
“Suits,” Chilchuck repeats dryly, in disbelief of how far you’re taking the idea of impressing a woman.  He looks through each of the three upon seeing your determined expression.
He points at the pale pink option.  “Absolutely not.”
He gestures to the navy one with a thinner fabric.  “I like this one.”
Finally, he only spares at a glance at the creatively patterned suit.  “I think I’d sooner be fed to wargs than be seen in that.”
You assemble each of the selections in order of preference.  You muse, “I see, I see…  Something refined but masculine.  Much better than your ‘tattered chic’ look.  Like an old book forever trapped in a library.”
Chilchuck furrows his brow as you run off again.  “Wh– What’s that supposed to mean, jerk?!”
He sighs.  He watches you as you make a few more choices again, before Chilchuck tries to distract himself looking at ties.  He’s come this far.  He should trust in your instinct.  It hasn’t failed him– or anyone yet.
So what the Hell?
Before Chilchuck knows it, he’s handed the acutely sized down, perfect combination of blazer and pants, and he’s stuffed inside a changing room.  He’s instructed to change into the whole thing.
As he does so, you can’t help but pace.  This is it.  This is the winning goal to help him impress his old flame.  It’ll be like an academy romance – falling in love all over again like you’re teenagers.  You sigh longingly.  If only you can be there, in her place.
“You’re gonna look great!”  You converse with Chilchuck through the curtain.  “You’ll become a whole new man, promise!  You’ll bloom like a rose!”
“It’s just clothes,” Chilchuck, in his usual cynicism, calls back.
You return with a raspberry.  “Don’t be such a Debbie-downer.”
“Wow.  No one’s called me that since grade school.”
“Maybe not to your face.”
Even without looking at him, you can imagine the scoff and eye roll he must be giving you, interrupted by a small choke on his own spit.  “Is this the price?”
“Ignore that!” You quickly respond.  “It’s my treat!  Come out, come out, I wanna see you!”
Better to gloss over the fact you worked hard to do this for Chilchuck with a high budget.  No doubt he’d tease you or outright refuse it.  You open the curtain and pull Chilchuck out by his arm.  He quickly adjusts himself and you both stand in front of the wall length mirror.
“...Woah.”
It’s said naturally in sync.  Both of you hardly recognise the brunette half-foot in the form fitting suit and tie.  With a bit of hair maintenance and more time to actually make himself look presentable… 
“I look like Laios on a good day,” Chilchuck jokes.
Your breath caught in your throat, you can only let out, “y-yeah.”
You pray he doesn’t notice how enthralled you are in his appearance, if slightly ungroomed.
Once the moment passes, Chilchuck makes himself comfortable by loosening his tie and undoing a button or two, then putting his arms where they usually are behind his neck.  “But it’s just me.”
Without hesitation, you find yourself speaking without meaning to.  “Is that not the best part?”
Chilchuck looks at you in confusion.  “What?”
“I-I mean…” you trail off.  You look nervous.  That’s rare for you.  Usually you always had something to say.  Now you look like you’re trying to figure out how to word something in a specific way.  Why?
You move behind Chilchuck to smooth down some of his hair.  “You may look more charming but… this is all you.  Your choices, your style…  It reflects who you are on the inside.  That’s the magic of fashion.”
Chilchuck laughs a little, mostly at his own cluelessness.  He can’t believe he’s underestimated a simple shopping trip.  “Thank you,” he says, with complete sincerity.
“No.”  You shake your head.  “This is not a gift.  I’m just… This is me thanking you for how you let me get away with so much.”
Your hands land on his shoulders, and Chilchuck’s fingers find their way to interlace with yours.  For just a few more moments, you look at yourselves in the mirror.
Catching yourself, you step away from the situation – from him.  “Well?  Come on, you need to buy this.  I’d want to marry you if you took me out looking like this!”
The half-foot flushes red.  You got to know what you’re doing to him.  “That’s not really—”
“Chilchuck.  Please.”  You place your hands on your hips, looking dead serious.  “You look hot.”
…Well, he can’t argue with you.  If you really think that, then who is he to deny it?
“Fine.  I’ll get it.”
You smile that cocky grin Chilchuck has grown to love.  “That’s our man.”
Leaving the shop was like a breath of fresh, unperfumed air.  Chilchuck would nearly fall to his knees and start kissing the ground if he paid too much attention to how his legs ached.  The post shopping trip fatigue is really hitting him.
“I enjoyed this,” he however admits.  “Maybe women are onto something when it comes to clothes.”
“That’s why you should always listen to whenever a woman is speaking,” you wisely advise, making Chilchuck nod with a slight snort.
He stops at a crossroads, where you go back to his place, and he goes back to his.  “You can trust that I will now.”
“Good.”  You sigh in relief knowing your venture was successful.  Maybe too successful, because now you may lose him.
Chilchuck keeps looking at you with affection.  You can’t say you haven’t noticed how he keeps sparing you glances, mostly throughout the shopping trip.  Maybe he has warmed up to you?
Still, neither of you can stop yourselves at this point.
You approach, and for a hopeful second, Chilchuck tilts his head a bit to the left, eyelids lowering and leaning into you.  Your arms wrap around his middle.
Your face nuzzles into his neck as you hug the man tight.  Chilchuck is still for a few seconds.  A hug.  Right.  Of course you’d want a hug…  He responds in kind.
“See you soon, Chil. I wish you luck.”
“Y-Yeah.  Luck with the lady.”
Your happiness comes with a heavy sacrifice of Chilchuck’s feelings remaining unsaid.
He’ll take it like a man.
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dreaming-of-lu · 3 days
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cause it's me birfday eue decided to spoil myself with the soulmates au. A special surprise at the end 👀
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Time
Normally, one would scream at the sight of a vast, wide open field of grass rather than their room being the first sight to see when waking up,
"Did I fucking die?" instead was the first thing that came out of your mouth. The wind was cool against your skin, lightly ruffling your bed mess hair. Miles around was knee high grass, no trees or civilization around. Just the green grass of mother earth and the blue skies with clouds that looked straight out of Ghibli movie.
"I died, didn't I?"
"I wouldn't necessarily say that-" a short yelp left your lips at the sudden voice appearing next to your ear. You scrambled back in shock, stumbling over yourself to get away from the mysterious, possibly stranger danger. Your eyes landed on the man that somehow happened to quietly sneak up on you, your words caught in your throat at the sight of him.
Long pointy ears, shoulder-length blonde hair, red and blue markings that framed his face, low brows lightly furrowed and...his right eye is shut due to a scar overlining it. Though his remaining eye made your breath hitched due to how blue it was,
"Yeah, I'm dead."
A soft snort left him before clearing his throat, "I promise you aren't, what is your name?"
"I-," you made a face at him, "why should I trust you?"
He lift his hand, pinching his arm that made your own sting, "Ow!"
"Because I am your soulmate."
First
The night seemed endless due to how long it was dragging on. With the ailed fragments of sleep begging for him to close his eyes, yet they held wide open to the stars of the night.
'Can't sleep, handsome?' their voice was like warm water drifting around him in a bath after a long day of hard work. A pleased, tired sigh left his lips, making his muscles eased from the tension his body felt. He weakly smiles to himself,
'Not without you by my side, that is.' The light snort that they gave him had his smile become more genuine, and heart pounding against his chest. The soft flush of heat burned his cheeks and neck as they softly laughed at his comment,
'Ever so the heartbreaker, my love,' they lightly teased.
'Maybe to others,' he huffs, 'though to you, my sweet, I shall carry it carefully as if it's a precious gem throughout the land, even when I meet you. It'll still be beside me.'
It's suddenly quiet, causing him to worry and flustered that he might've said something wrong to them. Only to hear a soft sniffle, 'That's...that's the sweetest, sappiest thing any one had said to me. You're too cute.'
His ears wiggled in delight. Goddesses, he felt like a school girl due to how giddy and mushy he felt, 'I'll shower you in them till you melt in them, my heart.'
They tearfully laughed, 'Okay, sap bucket, try and get some sleep, hmm?'
'Stay with me until I do?'
'Always, my darling.'
Drac
"Why this?" You blinked up from your book at the platinum blonde that took his place next to you on the sofa in the parlor room. He wasn't wearing the normal day to day werewolf shawl, instead, fortaking the shawl and adventuring attire to comfortable clothes to lounge around in. It seemed Aryll was put to sleep easily, since her moans and groans of pain used to distill the air of the house they both reside in.
The chain soft snores in the other room was definitely one to be jealous of due to how easily they knocked out. Though, you can't bring yourself to be angry too much, since the beds were soft enough to ease any ailments they might've felt throughout the day.
You shut the book, placing it aside on the table next to the sofa before turning your attention to him, "why what? did something happen?"
He gives you a flat look, grumbling lightly as he rolled his left sleeve to reveal dark ink marked upon his pale skin. He nods his head to it, "we share the same marks."
You stared wide eyed at the ink that lined his thick forearm; vines rolled around in swirls, flowers with fairies splattered here and there. The same picture that lined your own,
"I-I uhm-"
"While I don't mind the pretty ink, however, getting side eyed for it is not one that I want to deal with," He raised a brow at the shock silence that overcame your form.
"I...I think we're...yanno...soulmates?" you give him a sheepish look, grimacing when his stare hardens.
"...Well, that explains it," he leans backwards in the seat, "...could've chose a different place for it though."
"Asshole," you puffed, "I wanted something pretty to make me feel a little more confident and-"
You squeaked when his hand cupped your chin, he carefully maneuver you in laying position. His other hand came right down next to your head as his body hovered over you, he lowered his face, letting his lips ghost against yours. Gosh, was his eyes always this intense?
He smirked, "is this your way of saying we're married?"
"...you ass."
He snickers.
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drvirgus · 2 days
Text
Protecting (my heart)
Idol! Minji X bodyguard! Reader
Description: getting a new job as NewJeans bodyguard isn't really something Y/n thought would happen to her. What exactly happens when she suddenly felt attracted to one of the NewJeans members? Can Y/n stay professional or are her feelings for Minji too much to handle?
Warnings: stalking; harassment; kys jokes; suggestive language; death threats; mention of abuse; mention of murder; g!p Reader
Chapter: sleeping on the Couch (half-written)
Masterlist
——————————————————————————-
With a smile on my face, I immediately wrapped my arms around my girlfriend's waist, while she had hers around my neck, embracing me warmly. I sighed as my body visibly relaxed, simply allowing myself to fall into her embrace. "I'm here. You don't need to be afraid," I murmured softly, which elicited a chuckle from Minji.
She immediately took my hand and led us into the living room, where the rest of Newjeans was also present. "OMG Y/n," I heard Hanni exclaim happily as she clapped her hands together, making room for me to sit next to her. Smiling, I greeted each and every one of them.
"Sorry if I'm intruding," I said, sounding a bit more shy, but Danielle immediately reassured me. Calm and composed, Minji now sat next to me, so I looked at her and my hand naturally rested on her thigh. "Everything okay?" I asked, speaking a bit quieter, but Minji nodded in response.
Relieved, I smiled gently and also nodded my head. My eyebrows raised when I noticed her hair was still slightly damp, but I didn't comment on it. "So, are you staying over tonight?" Haerin asked with a certain grin on her face. Surprised, my mouth slightly opened as I nervously laughed, "Um, well. Apparently?" I replied, looking briefly at my girlfriend, who started giggling.
Nervously, I licked my lips and wiped my hands on my pants. Hyein noticed this and chuckled, almost immediately I looked at the younger woman. "Is your foot feeling better?" I asked, now a bit more serious but still concerned. Hyein smiled shyly and nodded her head. "It still hurts a bit, and I still need to rest, but it's getting better," Hyein replied, and I nodded.
Shortly after, I looked at each one of them. "If you feel even the slightest pain or discomfort, no matter where in your body, you need to get it checked out," I said, much more seriously, looking at each of them. My forehead slightly furrowed. "I'm not saying this just for the sake of it. I've seen some idols lose their careers because they ignored a small ache," I added earnestly.
Hanni looked at me with raised eyebrows, and slowly began to nod. "Y/n is right," Minji said beside me, looking at Haerin. "You're going to get yourself checked out tomorrow," Minji added, prompting me to look at Haerin. My eyes roamed over her entire body.
"Okay. I promise," Haerin replied with a slight smirk as she now rubbed her knee. I took a deep breath, feeling my shoulders relax and my forehead loosen. Minji's hand was now on my back as I leaned forward. I immediately looked at my girlfriend, who smiled at me.
"Mama e Papa," Hyein said in an unusual voice as she looked at me and Minji. Hanni laughed and playfully hit Hyein on the upper arm. Apparently, this was a very well-known TikTok trend. But I simply looked back at Minji. "I'm tired. Let's go to bed," the younger one said, causing me to immediately nod my head.
I stood up from the couch and offered my hand to Minji, which she immediately took, standing up from the couch as well. She intertwined our fingers as she bit her lip slightly and looked at me with a small smile. This made me smile too, but I looked away to wish the others a good night.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Baby?" I murmured softly as I bit my lip. My breath caught as I noticed her back pressing more and more against me. Suddenly, my breath hitched, and I could feel my face burning completely red. I let go of Minji a bit to turn onto my back, at least to create some space between us.
This caused Minji to turn around and look at me with a puzzled expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, which made me chuckle nervously. Swallowing visibly nervous, I muttered, "You... uh... smell good," as I just stared at the ceiling. Minji chuckled as she slid closer to me again.
Nervously, I swallowed as I felt my heartbeat accelerate, mainly because of Minji, but I also feared that my little friend would come to life and demand attention. I tensed visibly, which Minji noticed and looked at me questioningly. "What's wrong?" she asked softly as her hand landed on my stomach.
Startled, I jerked and sat up. Laughing lightly, I stood up from the bed. "I, uh... I'll sleep in the living room," I quickly said, about to turn around, but Minji stopped me by grabbing my wrist. She furrowed her brow as she looked at me. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, causing my eyes to widen.
"Oh God. No, baby," I immediately reassured her as I got closer to her. My hand rested on her cheek as I leaned down to her and kissed her forehead. "But... I, uh... I don't want... uh," I nervously stuttered as I blushed even more. Taking a deep breath, I bit my lip. "You turn me on," I confessed, causing Minji's eyes to widen at first and then relax.
Minji laughed a little. "That's why... you want to sleep on the couch?" she asked between her laughs, making me even more nervous. Embarrassed, I scratched the back of my head. "Also... you seem quite awake already," she added, now softer as she started to grin and looked down at me.
My eyes widened, and I looked down at myself as well. There, I noticed a bulge, but thankfully, it wasn't too big. Nervously, I swallowed as I now held my hands in front of it and turned away from her a bit. "I... I'll go to the living room," I muttered, which made Minji burst out laughing.
"At least take a blanket with you," Minji said, so I turned back around and took the blanket she held out to me. Minji just grinned at me, which made my head burn even more. "Don't say anything," I muttered, embarrassed, which only made Minji laugh again.
With the blanket, I went to the living room and lay down on the couch. My heart was still racing like crazy as I bit my lip. "Damn," I cursed softly as I started to sigh in annoyance.
Why did my body have to act so crazy?
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amoremainslayer · 24 hours
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Hi how do you think doing Pepero challenge with each zb1 member as boyfriend would be like🥰
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PEPERO DAY
Pairing: ot9 zb1 x fem reader
Genre : fluff, suggestive, headcanons
Warnings : Kissing, suggestive for ricky
A/n : I don't even know if this is good or nah but here ya go luv😓
• Jiwoong
There you sat, back facing jiwoong after he requested for you to do so. Tonight was one of your weekly hangouts, spending time together on the couch while cuddling and watching a movie. Silence layed between the two of you not until jiwoong asked you to turn around. With a suspicious look you complied, turning around while rustling noises appeared behind your back, not until jiwoong asked you to turn around. His voice seemed unclear, so you quickly turned around only for you to see jiwoong gazing at you cockily, a pepero stuck between his lips as she wiggled his eyebrows 'romantically'. You laughed loudly, slapping your hand on his knee at the sight of him. Jiwoong chuckled aswell "kish mi" He mumbled, winking at you. You laughed softly, shaking your head sarcastically before leaning closer to him, slowly biting off the pepero until your lips finally collided with his. Your lips moved in a steady rythm, his hands wandering to your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Jiwoong pulled away, giving you a small grin which you just returned, quickly pecking his lips before going back to cuddling.
• Zhanghao
Zhanghao let himself fall beside you with a tired groan. He just came out of the shower, hair still damp while he was clothed in your matching pajamas "Today was so tiring" he groaned dramatically, laying his arm over your stomach while closing his eyes. He pouted his lips in a kissing form, making kissing noises as a silent plea. You just chuckled, reaching for a small box from the nightstand. Hao could hear something rustling which led him to open his eyes, only to be met with a sly grin on your lips while putting the pepero between his lips instead of kissing him. "Today is pepero day, you know.." You grinned, beginning to bite of the small parts of the pepero, pulling away before your lips met his "Hey!" He said dramatically, pulling you closer while pressing his lips onto yours. You laughed into the kiss, pulling away slightly to chew on the pepero before pressing a loving peck onto his lips "Satisfied?" You asked while grinning. Zhanghao rolled his eyes playfully, nuzzling his face into your neck "Satisfied" he mumbled before the two of you fell asleep.
• Hanbin
"They're so pretty!" You exclaimed, looking at the bouquet hanbin made especially for you. It was a bouquet full of beautiful flowers and peperos. You turned around, intending to give hanbin the biggest smooch ever only to be met with hanbin putting a pepero stick in between your lips. You raised your eyebrows in surprise "huh?" You said, your tongue tasting the strawberry pepero "Pepero challenge" He grinned, his hands wandering to your shoulders before pulling you closer. The stupid grin remained on his lips, yet his eyes narrowed down to your lips. He leaned in, slowly biting small peaces of the pepero. When he was about to eat the last piece, he softly tapped your cheek which made you open your eyes. He gazed into them before taking the last bite, your lips colliding for a few seconds as you felt him steal every last bit of the pepero out of your mouth. You laughed out loud as you felt his tongue on your lips and pulled way which left hanbin chuckling aswell "Thank you binnie" You grinned to which hanbin just pecked your lips "You're welcome sweetheart"
• Matthew
His eyes wandered to the pepero box in your hands up to your eyes, raising a single eyebrow "Pepero challenge?" He asked to which you just grinned and said "Pepero challenge.". He laughed softly, taking one of the peperos before placing it between your lips. His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you slightly closer before he began biting down the pepero. As soon as he took the last bite, he gave you a sweet kiss on your lip, his lips forming into a big smile. Your snickered softly, placing your hands on his cheeks before peppering his face with small kisses "I can't get enough of you" you spoke in-between the kisses. Laughter erupted from his lips while he wrapped his arms around you "Me neither baby, me neither.."
• Taerae
Taerae opened his mouth, ready to sing the most difficult Highnote he as ever attempted to sing, only to be cut of by you pressing a pepero stick between his lips. A surprised sound escaped his lips as he looked at you with a mix of surprise and joking offense "Was my singing that bad?" He asked sarcastically, his words slightly slurred because of the object between his lips, which left you laughing. You shook your head "I wanna do the pepero challenge" You said boldly to which he just grinned while shaking his head. He put the pepero out of his before putting it in your, his hands wandering to your neck and cheek to hold you in place "Close your eyes" He mumbled to which you just snickered "why? I wanna see your beautiful handsome enchanting eyes" You said which was met with a sarcastic look from taerae. With one small glare from you quickly closed your eyes while mumbling "Alright alright spoilsport". Taerae just shook his head gently, closing his eyes aswell as he began to slowly bite of small bits off the pepero. Soon his lips collided with yours, his warmth flowing over to you as your joined lips created a smooth rythm. After a few seconds you pulled away, panting slightly while gazing up to taerae "Again" you mumbled dazingly to which he just laughed, shaking his head before pulling another one out of the box "Your turn" He mumbled, pressing the pepero between his lips.
• Gyuvin
You opened your mouth lazily, waiting for your boyfriend to stick another pepero into your mouth. Today was pepero day, but you didn't have any expectations for your not so bright boyfriend, gyuvin, to even think about doing the pepero challenge with you. You looked up from your phone as you realized he wasn't putting any peperos into your mouth anymore "Are they done?" You asked softly. Meanwhile gyuvin was staring at you deep in thought, he pulled out one last pepero from the box which left you grinning happily. How much luck you had for one more blessing for your taste buds. Suddenly gyuvin squished your cheeks together like a fish, putting the peper between your lips before finally biting down on it slowly. Soon his lips hit yours, pressing a wet kiss onto them "Ew!" You exclaimed, wiping his saliva off your lips "Hey! You can't just do that this basically means you hate me!" He complained, cupping your face before pressing tons of wet kisses all over your face. You squeeked, trying to squirm out of his grip while laughing. You somehow ended just being embraced by him, his head resting against yours "I can be romantic too, you know.." He mumbled softly. You smiled warmly, hugging him even tighter "I know gyu, I know..."
• Ricky
His lips finally met your lips as you bit down on the pepero. You felt romantic, so you bought some peperos to do the challenge with ricky. You put the pepero between his lips before slowly taking bites off it until you managed to kiss him. Who would've expected for you to end up on his lap, his tongue flowing into your mouth to steal the small parts of the pepero. His tongue was teasingly slow as he tasted the cholocate in your mouth, taking a few breaks to chew on the baked dough. You pulled away, panting softly with blushed cheeks. Ricky giggled deeply. He brushed a strand of your hair behind your hair, his eyes gazing at you adoringly "You're so cute"
• Gunwook
"What the fuck" You stared at gunwook, a surprised expression on your face. You took your toilet break for just a few minutes only to come back to gunwook laying on his bed with his head held by his hand, the lights dimmed, careless whispers playing through the speaker and a pepero between his lips "Hello lovely" He grinned cockily, trying his best not to crackle up. At this point you couldn't hold your laughter in anymore before falling onto your knees, laughing loudly. Gunwook chuckled before taking a deep breath to get back in character "Have you looked at the calender today me sweet sugar plum?" He said overly 'romantic' which left you laughing even harder. Gunwook remained serious "It's pepero day baby girl" He grinned, his voice deep and raspy while looking down at you. You were still snickering as you climbed onto the bed "Pepero day? I didn't even notice" You laughed, brushing a few strands of hair off his face. He giggled, finally breaking character while sitting up with his back resting against the headboard of his bed "You know what that means?" He wiggled his eyebrows smugly and you couldn't help yourself but laugh even further "Want me to do the pepero challenge with you?" You asked knowingly, raising a single eyebrow to which gunwook just nodded like a lovesick boy. You laughed softly, cupping his face before quickly biting off the pepero without touching his lips. You laughed teasingly, munching on the pepero as gunwooks face replayed pure horror and betrayal "No! That's not how you do it!" He spoke, quickly pulling out the pepero box before pulling out another one "Again" He spoke, putting the pepero between his lips. You just snickered, going fast again before pulling away. Gunwook tried to chase your lips but failed "So you hate me and want me to die" He crossed his arms while looking away. Your eyes softened as you noticed the slight sad glint in his eyes, signalizing he was actually offended "Ofcourse I don't, I'm just playing with you" You spoke, putting a pepero between his lips before slowly taking bites off of it until your lips finally collided with his. The two of you kissed gently, love flowing through your body's. He pulled away, giving you a big smile" "Thank love" he thanked you sincerely to which you just giggled lovingly.
• Yujin
"No I can't do it!" You laughed, cheeks red while you hid your face in the pillow. Yujin whined, putting the pepero out of his mouth "whyyy" he only managed to say. It took him nearly 2 weeks to gather the courage to ask you to do the pepero challenge with him, so it seemed like a bummer you were just as shy as him. You sat back up, staring onto him "Close your eyes" You demanded swiftly, a shy smile on your lips. If it was possible, yujin got even redder. Closing his eyes before putting the pepero between his lips. You took a deep breath, bravely beginning to bite of small parts of the pepero. You hesitated slightly when you were close to his lips, but after a few seconds you pressed your eyes together tightly while taking the last bite. Your lips touched for a mere second, but yujin felt like the happiest boy ever. A childish giggle left his lips as he opened his eyes, watching you munch on the pepero shyly. He cupped your cheeks before pressing tons of small kisses on your cheeks which left you giggling happily "Thank you for doing the challenge with me" Yujin spoke softly, a shy grin on his lips. You giggled, putting your hands on your red cheeks "You're welcome loverboy" you said shyly.
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aly4khq · 2 days
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✰⋆⁺₊⋆ - i always win. - ⋆⁺₊⋆✰
- xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ -
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today was you and xavier's day off. the wanderer activity lately has been very low compared to a few months ago, signifying that it's that time of year where you guys can take a little break once in a while.
in the fresh morning of april, a lovely tuesday, the sun shone through your blinds blinding you as your eyes opened. turning to the other side to wrap your legs around xavier, they plopped onto nothing. in concern, your eyes sprung open, you hands lifting your body up.
he was gone. but where? turning back around slowly, still infected by sleep, the light from your phone presented '8:15'. now in your how many years you've know xavier, he never wakes up this early unless it's forced (by you) or he has a very early mission do to at the base. stretching as you moaned from the feeling of the heat, your ear picked up the noise of the door opening.
there he was, in nothing but his boxers walking around the house as he sweats from a possible workout. smiling, you sleepily waved at him, too tired to be speaking. chuckling in return, he ruffled your hair before pecking your neck softly. moving your neck due to the tickly sensation, a small whine escaped your mouth.
"..why are you awake so early..?" your voice was tougher than normal, a slight rasp involved too. he tried to drag you out of bed properly but you resisted. he sighed.
"you know. it's actually not that early. i'd say 6 is early."
shaking your head no, you tried to pull him back into bed. your eve wrapping around his arm as you used your horrible morning strength to get him down. he watched you, just admiring you before you gave up.
"come on. let's shower together." he won the fight, grasping your hands in his as he kissed them, running around and kneeling down. he looked back, silently telling you to get on his back.
slowly and steadily, you shifted your body to his back, holding onto his neck your legs clinging onto his waist. he slowly rose to his feet, holding the bottom of your thighs to secure you tightly. walking to the shower, he tried to to wake you up more after hearing your cute little snores.
"hey hey hey! no more sleeping." you practically scoffed at his words, rising your head and biting the back of his neck.
"coming from you...master...sleepyhead..." a yawn separated most of your sentence even though he understood it all.
after making it to the bathroom, he placed you onto the toilet, making sure that you were leaning on the wall so you didn't fall. your tired eyes slowly tracked his steps.
putting the water on...grabbing a few bubble maker bottles...making sure it was warm...looked at you..
"come on darling. bath time."
holding your hands out to be carried, he used that to take your his shirt off leaving you only in your underwear. the soft black lace absorbing his light heart. you stretched as the morning sun started to wake you under before a sharp feeling came from your hip.
your eyes shot down to stare at xavier's long fingers snapping the side of your underwear against your skin before going onto his knees. his hand rushing up your thighs gently, caressing the soft skin.
"...xav...what r you doing.." your hands rested on his shoulders, his hypnotising baby blues trapping yours. he had his cheeky face on. his hand slowly pulling your underwear down. his fingers patting at the wetness of your pussy.
"so wet..this early baby?" he teased,biting your thighs as your head flew back, your hand covering your eyes. a slight giggle running out of you.
"for you of course. you can't be so hot and not expect me to- OH! my gosh-"
you gasped, instantly grasping at his hair. the sensation of his tongue fighting with your flaps, sucking harshly of the flesh as he pulled you closer by your thighs.
you whimpered, crying out as he continued to eat your out, harshly yet so deep you couldn't even breathe before he was back at it again. the digits of his fingers in you increasing by the minute. your legs clenching around his head as he sucked harder, his normally soft persian blue eyes now stern and dull.
"don't...move." he growled into your pussy, making sure you couldn't move as he went faster and faster.
" wait!- wait, baby please- xavier! i can't!!-"
you squealed trying to catch a break, you weren't prepared for this. your legs trembled violently around his head, your head nearly banging against the bathroom wall behind you by the force of his tongue.
"xavier i'm gonna-" the cool in your stomach was intense but he didn't slow down whatsoever, you squirmed and begged in his mercy. but he didn't stop. he wanted to see you squirm. he wanted to see you struggle to take the pleasure he was giving you.
suddenly, his face was coated in your liquids, and he didn't waste a single drop, if he wasn't always pussy drunk than this would be a different type of hungry.
after taking all of your results off his face, he went back to your core, desperately looking for more. taking every ounce of you into his mouth.
"okay! okay! we get it...we get it..." you huffed.
he picked you up, slowly placing you in the tub before situations himself right behind you making sure that your were stable.
"your pussy is such a delicious dinner, you know?" he whispered in your ear as you bit his hand softly.
"stop it..you're so cringe eww- ow!"
he pinched your side as you bit hi harder. soon enough, water was everywhere and you were scrapping inside the bathtub. slowly you gave up as he started tickling.
"OKAY! you win!-"
"see? i always win."
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do not steal my work even tho they are trash!
date made: 21-25/4/24
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