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#all a first draft (so it needs at least one more draft before i can post)
Epel w/ Gardenia!
Epel Felmier:
Gardenia - the love of a friend who doesn’t want to just be friends.
“Why are you staring so hard?”
You never had anyone study your beauty routine as intensely as Epel was now, not even Vil who wanted to check every ingredient in the products you used. At first you didn’t know why he followed you to your room, having just confessed to having a first date in just a few hours and that you needed to start getting ready; you wondered if he was worried about you or about this other person, as Epel had always proven to be a good friend to you. You don’t think he’s quite experienced enough to point out any improvements in your make-up or flex knowledge like Vil or Rook could do but you didn’t mind the company, smiling away as the question went unanswered for another few minutes.
“…It’s because you’re beautiful.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror, amused when his eyes darted away to look at anything but you. You were used to more brazen behavior from your fellow Pomefiore student but this seemed to be the most brazen thing of all, yet he didn’t fully commit to it.
“I have another question.” You tried to keep the laughter from your tone but it hit you all at once why he had attached himself to your side; just to be sure, you moved your mirror to get a full reflection of his face, knowing he wouldn’t notice, “Why did you come get ready with me? Are you going on the date, too?”
Epel’s eyebrows twitched at the mention of a date, the frown on his face apparent. You knew he was being more honest because he didn’t realize it was your turn to study him, seeing the way he reacted to the thought of you with another person. This had just been a distraction date, a nice enough person but not someone you imagined would last longer than the night. Epel, however, had proven himself both earnest and interesting, certainly a person who captured interest. He was also ridiculously cute, pretty even, though you knew he’d hate it if you voiced your thoughts on it.
“You shouldn’t go on that date,” Epel finally stated, voice quieter than normal. His eyebrow was still twitching but he had wiped the frown off his face, his arms now crossed.
“Why?” You ask again, your favorite question of the night it seemed. It was like plucking hairs but the pain would be worth it if you could finally get some form of a confession out of him. His cheeks bloomed a beautiful pink that went perfectly with his hair, a true masterpiece that you could sit and admire all night. You’re already drafting the message in your head to apologize for canceling the date, but Epel was being too cute for you to concentrate for long.
“You know why.” Epel’s scowl is more of a pout and you tried not to give yourself away by fawning over it, taking a little breath before turning in your seat to face him head on. Epel is surprised by your sudden move, looking at you like he was prepared to fight to not get thrown out of your room.
“I want you to say it.”
Epel seemed to think for a moment before his leg shot out, hooking around the leg of your chair and suddenly pulling you closer to him. It was a shocking move and one that displayed some strength, your heart fluttering more by the minute. Who taught him that? He wore such a serious look on his face you thought you might get a scolding first before a confession, but what you got was even better.
“I want you to stay here… with me.”
 “Oh, but I’m practically all done up with nowhere to go! It’d be a crime not to go out tonight.”
“Th-then I’ll take you out!” Epel’s response was the boldness you had been waiting for, your eyes lighting up as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Doesn’t it feel good being honest~? Now get lost so I can get ready for our date, I can at least surprise you with a nice outfit, right?” You ushered him from your room with a playful ‘shoo, shoo!’ while he was still reeling from the feeling of your lips on his skin, standing frozen in front of your door even after you had closed it.
He didn’t even notice when Rook walked by, singing about how love was in the air.
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jewish-vents · 17 hours
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The encampment at my uni has an instagram page where they're consistently referring to Israel as the "violent Zionist entity" or "occupying Zionist entity" and... I'm tired. I don't like how Israel has been handling things. I want the violence to come to an end. I think that they and I probably have a lot of common ground, when it comes to our opinions on how the civilian population of Gaza should be treated--and that should be their primary concern, shouldn't it? That should be the core they build their movement around, you'd think.
And yet. And yet. They say "antizionism is not antisemitism" as if the two could never coincide (though I do agree they are not synonyms) and "[we] fight against antisemitism when bigots and grifters attempt to infiltrate our movements" (that's in the first public draft of their guidelines, they ditched the fighting antisemitism part for the newest one lmaoooooo) as if it has never even crossed their minds that they themselves might be antisemitic? That the antisemitism in the movement might come from within, no bad-faith actors needed?
But then they "demand that the University ... cut all academic ties with Israeli universities and Zionist academics" and "acknowledge the reality that media and Zionists will try to identify [encampment participants]" while also saying that "oppressive behaviour and stereotypes are not welcome"--well, which is it? is it bad to stereotype people for the purpose of limiting and/or excluding them, or is it acceptable to assume that every single Israeli student and professor is an evil scheming (((zionist))) and therefore they must be excluded?
I understand why they want the university to divest itself from weapons manufacturing and such (though tbh the links they've cited are fairly tenuous) but the total stonewalling of an entire country's academia just really rubs me the wrong way even without taking the singling out of Israel into consideration. You'd think, if they were so concerned about Israel being an insular ethnostate, they would want Israeli students to come here and see a different way the world can be! And yet!
Like I said--I'm tired. I wish this movement was one that I felt comfortable supporting. I wish their tactics aligned better with their stated goals. I wish they would be more self-aware, and that they would be better activists. Antisemitism doesn't help the people of Gaza. It just drives potential allies away.
(also--and this is not quite as much a vent as the rest of it--they call the university hypocritical for not saying anything about Palestine when they do have local land acknowledgements. Assume their framework holds. They put up a self-flagellating instagram post about how they felt they desperately needed to set up their encampment, and quickly, and so they did not have time to consult local indigenous groups before doing so. Now, I don't really think that setting up a rule-breaking encampment on university grounds under the current governance structure should require you to ask special permission--it's not like they asked the uni anyway lol--but they clearly do. They clearly feel it is not right for them to exist on these lands in the manner in which they do... but they're still here. They still made the encampment. They're colonizers, and they remain in the colony. One might think that this would give them some insight into reasons that an alleged colonizer population might be disinclined to leave--but of course, it's different for them. They acknowledge their own hypocrisy and continue on, having gained absolutely no insight--at least not any they're willing to share with the world.)
.....dang, sorry for the essay lmao. that got a bit out of hand. I'll wrap it up here so I don't go yammering on all night XD
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thinking about writing a jmart fic inspired by my original story. would y'all read it or nah
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zeawesomebirdie · 1 year
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I hate having enough energy to want to write and/or write millions of notes about fics i want to write but not enough energy to actually write said fics
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nobrashfestivity · 4 months
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Everyone Hates Poetry 2024
Rules
Write a poem before Feb.5th and submit it to me with the submit feature or in an ask.
Poems should be less than 500 words
You can use your real name or your blog name but they can't be completely anonymous.
Poems will be published at 9pm on Wednesdays and then a link to each poem will be added to the bottom of this pinned post so people can read them all.
I can't stop anyone from reblogging their own poems and generally sharing art is a wonderful thing, but don't turn it into some kind of social media campaign. because people with a small number of followers would be at a disadvantage. This is supposed to be fun. Please do reblog this post and tag people if you think you know someone on tumblr that might be interested. Since the post will contain links to the submissions, your poem will not be lost in the shuffle.
If I receive less than 10 entries I'll cancel the contest and consider it a failed experiment.
Public voting will begin after the 5th.and account for 50% of the vote
A panel of judges will also vote but will not submit poems themselves, and their votes will make up the other 50% of the final tally.
.There will be small prizes for the winner and runner up.
This is my art blog and will remain so, as it always has been. I'm doing this because poets here don't get much chance to get their stuff read and I have a fair number of followers. It's just a little thing to do if you want. I'm not turning this into a poetry blog or a contest blog or anything else.
Poems don't need to be finished. Due to the one month time frame I would suspect these would be first drafts, but please write something new. I want to encourage people to do something now, however imperfect, rather than showing work that's already done.
Updates will follow. Thank you!
Rule clarifications
-Please dont send poems anonymously if at all possible. I am happy to include a name that doesn't identify your blog directly but it's impossible to refer to or contact people who submit poems anonymously. I can't have anonymous poems considered without at least a name for you and if you were to win a prize, you'd need a name and address to claim it. I don't so much care about the latter part, that's for you, this becomes very disorganized and hard to regulate with anonymous messages floating in.
-Please put the title of your poem above it. If it is below it, I have no way of distinguishing with certainty if it's a title or a last line.
One poem per person please.
if you do not wish to see the poetry contest entries just filter the tag "everyone hates poetry 2024"
Due to the very high volume of submissions I am blogging them more gradually as to give more attention to each one. The same tag, "everyone hates poetry 2024", that you can filter if you do not want to see these can be used to find the submissions. If you follow this tag you'll get them all.
Please note that I am now publishing these as asks, previously I had to retype to keep the formatting and there are simply too many entries
Submissions are now closed, I will be publishing submissions all week and then when all have been posted we will start the voting (stay tuned as to how and when)
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saltydoesstuff · 9 months
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Love bites (Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey x Reader HCS)
((All characters are depicted as 18+ unless stated otherwise)) I FINALLY got this done! This has been in my drafts for a w h i l e and I'm so glad to be able to share it! technically suggestive??, biting, jealousy, love bites/marks, cuddling ------------------------------------------------ Raph: - He is an alligator snapping turtle, biting is what his species is known for! - He has chew toys hidden around his room so he can have something to bite into whenever he gets the urge, or when he gets frustrated so he doesn't grind his teeth together fighting the urge to bite. He has a very strong bite force and he doesn't want to hurt anyone. - But with you, as soon as you gave the okay for him to bite you he was a little hesitant. You wanted him to bite you? You were okay with it? He could take out your whole shoulder if he really wanted to! - It'd take a little for him to get used to the fact that you were okay with being bitten, but soon he is more than happy to do so. Biting is one of his love languages, and to be able to do it to you without worry of you getting upset really soothed him. - He is extra careful when biting you, starting off with gentle nips and nibbles along your shoulders when you two are cuddling in his room. Every time he thinks he may have gotten a bit hard on a particular nip he will kiss the spot and ask if you are alright, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. - The only time he would be less gentle in his biting is if he's jealous. Raph is not one to get jealous super easily, nor let it show. He trusts you completely, but sometimes when the person trying to hit on you is just not getting the hint that you are not only not interested but taken- he could only feel the steam coming from his nostrils as he huffs and glared at the person. Afterwards, when you are both are alone- Raph will suddenly pull you by the waist back into his plastron, he head leaning down and snout nuzzled against the side of your neck. "Uh.. Raph?" You ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye, "Are you okay big guy?" There's a brief moment of hesitation, before there is a sharp pain searing into the spot between your neck and shoulder; making you inhale sharply and wince. - Yeah.. you needed a bit of bandages after that. His teeth had broken skin and had you bleeding. The poor guy felt so bad, apologizing frantically as he patched you up. You had to constantly reassure him that was alright, despite his many protests that no it was not alright. He clung onto you for the rest of the night, mumbling apologies and kissing the bandages every chance he could. - Yet despite his immense guilt for hurting you, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got whenever he saw the mark once the bandages came off. It was a physical sign that you were his, and now everyone could see it. - And if you ever bite back? Oh you will have a very flustered and smitten turtle on your hands. Donnie: - He isn't much of a biter. At least.. at first. - Donnie has a bit of difficulty showing physical affection at times, even more so verbally expressing it. Which is why his main go to of showing love is gift giving. - When you both started dating, there was a long adjustment period of getting comfortable with getting physically affectionate past platonic gestures. It started small, linking each other's pinkies together when you thought no one was paying attention and holding hands when you slept together in place of cuddling. Times in the morning where a very sleepy soft shell will come up beside you as you prepared coffee for you both and gently bunt his head against yours as a greeting as he picked up his mug and headed towards his lab.
- It had progressed steadily and soon you often found yourself being the stress toy for your purple clad lover. He had found it actually much easier to work while you were on his lap, so that's where you stayed most of the time when he had projects to work on but also wanted to spend time with you. You would face him, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and arms hugging his middle as he had his head rested on your shoulder to peer down at whatever he was tinkering with that day. His claws would gently run up and down your spine in a mindless manner, and when he got frustrated his hands would come up to your love handles and squeeze while he tried to find a work around. - One of these times, he had gotten a bit too frustrated. He had been working on a new upgrade for Shelldon, but nothing he did seemed to turn out the way he wanted. You were half asleep on his lap at this point, having been there quite a while at this rate. That's when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. - He didn't break skin, but his canines dug into your shoulder just enough to leave a little bruising mark. The feeling was enough to make you jolt slightly with a little yelp, startling Donnie in turn. - He pulled away and looked at you quizzically, not seeming to grasp what exactly had happened at first. Then he takes notice of the mark forming on your shoulder and the man short circuits. - Is quick to apologize and offer to get you an icepack to help the bruising through his own flustered state, stammering and tripping over his words. Yet, his grip is firm- keeping you in place on his lap, like he was afraid you would try to get off after he bit you. - He had chalked it up to simply being apart of his more animalistic instincts, a side he is normally the best at repressing compared to his brothers (at least he tells himself that). Still, he tries to take precautions to avoid making the same error. Unless you encourage the behavior, then he is more lenient towards allowing the action to repeat. Just more gently from now on. - His bites are rare, but when they do come they are gentle and almost teasing depending on the situation. His favorite places to nibble is along your collarbone and sometimes the lobe of your ear. - The only time he will deliberately leave lasting marks is out of jealousy, and as we all know the soft shell is very quick to get jealous. Expect to be covered in marks for the next two weeks.
Leo: - Leo would actually be revealed to be a bit of a biter early on in the relationship, a split moment while you both were play wrestling that he had turned his head suddenly and sunk his teeth into the skin of your wrist while you had him pinned. It had caught you off guard, long enough for the slider to get the advantage and over power you. The next second you found yourself on your back with a very smug turtle straddling your waist. - It didn't seem to click for him at first just what he had done, only as he opened his mouth to tease did he notice the flabbergasted expression on your face did it sink in that he had actually bit you. - His eyes darted from the faint mark forming on your wrist to your face a couple times, looking equally as shocked- only his face definitely felt ten times warmer. - He would try to play it off at first, saying that you two never agreed not to bite, so it was still fair game. "All is fair in love and war, mi vida.~" - The biting would not happen again for a while after that, and Leo would get slightly embarrassed every time you try to bring it up in a teasing manner. Bringing it up in a playful tone that you wouldn't mind being bitten, this only served to make the slider more flustered. - Next time he bites you however, is during a sleepover at your apartment. You both had decided to have a cozy night in, cuddled up on your bed and watching movies through whatever streaming services you have. - You were staring blankly at the screen, trying to fight the effect that gravity was having on your eye lids. Leo was behind you, holding you against his plastron- his snout nuzzled into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing against your skin; not quite enough to lead you to believe that he was asleep, but still gentle. - Slowly, his snout trailed upwards- grazing the corner of your jaw as he moved. You didn't think much of it, assuming he may be simply adjusting slightly to get in a more comfortable position- that was until you felt the tips of his canines catch onto the lobe of your ear, tugging and biting gently. - The squeal that left your mouth is still something Leo laughs about to this day. Your flustered and embarrassed reaction to such an innocent test was hilarious, or so he would say. You would heavily beg to differ on multiple of those points. - Once establishing your comfort with his biting, Leo will bite regularly. Not nearly as much as Raph or Mikey per say, but close. More often than not it's more just to get a reaction out of you, he just loves how red your face gets to the simple actions. Other times to have a physical marker that you were his, even if the bites were only in places that he could see. The action still mattered. Oh don't worry, he would never bite you in public. Only behind closed doors when you both are alone. - If he ever bit you out of jealousy, much like Donnie those marks would be e v e r y w h e r e- and not going away anytime soon. He trusts you completely, but apparently other people won't take the hint that you were his unless they saw you covered in his marks. He takes satisfaction in their reactions and defeat. Only he was your champion, no one else.
Mikey: - Biting is also what Box turtles are known for! It's a form of a courting/mating gesture for his species. - I'd say he'd bite you early on into the relationship in the form of soft nibbles, more playful than anything. Say he has you in his arms and he buried his snout into the crook of your neck, he'll gently nibble at your flesh in-between kisses to fluster you. He thinks your adorable flustered! - It's hard to say if he would ever say why he bites you. He would only answer if you asked him directly about it, as to then he would sheepishly admit what it means to him. If you're uncomfortable with it he will gladly stop though! - If you encourage the behavior however, or even go as far as to bite him back at some point? Oh, he just fell even harder! - His favorite spots are your shoulders, thighs and the tips of your ears, you make the cutest squeaks when his canines nip at your earlobe and he just can't get enough! - His bites will become more frequent during cuddle sessions or play fighting to gain the upper hand, you can't tell me this man would not use tricks to catch you off guard- - Despite it all however, he would be rather gentle with his bites. He knows his teeth are sharp, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. But from time to time he will get a bit rougher and leave marks. He will make sure to apologize if it starts bleeding, immediately offering to patch it up. He isn't as panicked as Raph is, but still worries. - Jealousy is a whole different matter. Mikey trusts you, he really does! But those flirting with you just don't seem to understand that you are taken sometimes.. perhaps a few lasting marks will fix that! - This sneaky bastard will make sure some of his bites are hard to cover up, wanting people to see them. To see who you belong to. - But overall he is very sweet and caring with his affections towards you, no matter what form they take.
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naeviskz · 3 months
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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship
words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread
this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.
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“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.
you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.
hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.
“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”
“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.
he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.
“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.
“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.
how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.
the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.
so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.
“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.
no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.
hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”
* :.・゚゚・ ✿
“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.
the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.
you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.
“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.
a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.
just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.
“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”
your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.
once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.
“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”
“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.
maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?
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- 完 ♡︎
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lilbitdepressed27 · 4 months
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Jenna Ortega/ Fem!Bodyguard
Summary: you’re her bodyguard also g!preader
Warnings: bad smut prepare your self
WC: 1.7k
Author’s Note: it’s my first time (most likely my last) writing smut. Don’t know where this came from but hope y’all like it. Sorry for any mistakes. Also I have few too many unfinished drafts some of them being AU’s for Tara I’ll try to finish them as soon as possible. Or least finish one.
You stood a few inches away from the actress as she smiled and talked with a few fans. 'Never be too far from her. Keep her in arms length.' That had been a rule you always followed. The short six months that you've worked for her have been, different. You had joined the marines right after high school. Being in the marines for six years. You had been given the choice to renew your contract but you had declined. Figuring that six years was enough.
Now you worked as a bodyguard for a sweet actress. Jenna Ortega. Americas new it girl. So far you loved the job. Jenna was everything and more. Caring, kind and amazing. She was so kind to her fans, which was why you were behind her as she spoke with some. She had been talking with the small group of girls for the past few minutes. You looked down at your watch, the actresses had a tight schedule you had come to learn. Especially Americas it girl.
A small tap on her elbow was the signal. "Sorry guys but I have to go. It was nice meeting you." Jenna smiled and gave the four girls separate hugs. Thanking them and saying goodbye. Allowing you to lead her way.
"Bye Jenna! Bye Y/n!"
Strangers knowing your name had also been something you were now used to. You smiled at the girls and waved back. Leading Jenna away towards the building. It was a good thing it was a mostly empty parking lot. She had an interview but it was a video interview and she had it set back in her hotel room. It was the last thing she had scheduled for the day. You smiled slightly when she looked up at you, while you both waited for the elevator.
It wasn't long till you were in the hotel room. Closing and locking the door before you had your arms full of a short brunette.
"Finally. We're alone. How can I miss you so much when you're with me all day." Jenna complained her face hiding in your neck. She couldn't help but smile when she smelt your cologne. It was a sent she loved. The feeling of your strong arms wrapping around her waist as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The way you effortlessly picked her up. She had never felt so safe with anyone, not in the way she felt around you. From the very first moment she met you, she had known that it'd be easy being friends. She had not prepared herself to fall in love. Loving you was so free, so easy.
"Mmh I missed you to baby." You walked towards the bed and laid on your back. Jenna was quick to get comfortable on top, tuck her face into your neck. Stuffing her hands into your shirt. Smiling when you felt light kisses being placed on your pulse. Never did you think that by getting this job you'd find the love of your life.
"I can feel, how much you missed me."
Your breath hitched when you felt her grinding on your lap. Part of you hardening. Your hands moving to rest on the back of your head as you watched her grind on your lap. Bitting your lip at the sounds of her moans and whimpers. The way her nails dug into your stomach.
"Y-Y/n please." Her hips stuttered before trying to go faster. Her hands shaking a clear desperation of need, as she tried to unbuckle your pants. She looks up at you her eyes filled with lust and desire. "I-I need you."
"Now? baby you have an interview in a few minutes. Don't start something you can't finish." But just as you said that. You thought of something. Something that had you taking a grip of her wrists. Stopping her movement. Your length fell heavy on your stomach after you freed your self from your pants.
"Come on then. You know what to do." You knew exactly what you were doing. Was it risky? Yes. But did you love the thrill. Absolutely. You watched as she quickly pushed her panties to the side. Not bothering to take them off. It was a great thing she was wearing a skirt.
"FFuck." The overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure over took her body as she felt your tip grazing her clit. Then the stretch of your tip entering her. No matter how many times she was intimate with you, she'd never get used to your size. The need and want of always having you inside her was something she always craved. The feeling of your length stretching her out as she continued moving down until she bottom out. The ecstasy of it all.
You jerked your hips up, watching in satisfaction as she threw her head back the way her breathing hitched before the moans escaped her lips. The way her walls tightened around you as she continued to let out her screams of pleasure.
The sound of Jenna's phone ringing was heard throughout the room, "Answer the phone." Seeing the tremble of her body you knew she was close. But she had a job to do. So with that you gripped her hips. Halting her movements. You ignored the whine coming from her lips.
"Answer the phone. I won't ask again."
Knowing she couldn't argue she answered the phone. Her hand shaking, her hips instinctively twitching every few seconds. Like her hips had a mind of their own. "H-Hello?"
"Jenna the interview is in 5 minutes. Get your laptop set up, the link has been sent. I can go to your room to hel-No! I" A small moan escaping her lips, when you jerked your hips up. she was quick to cover it up with a cough. Eyes widening as she looked down at you. A smirk was what she got in return.
"I got it don't don't worry about it. I'll I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone throwing it to side.
"Y-Y/n baby please. Faster."
You knew it was a risk but your horniness was at an all time high. So you got the small foldable bed table. Putting it on your stomach. It already had her laptop.
"Nonono. I can't. I'll I'll just reschedule it."
"No. Do your interview or we will stop right now. Now be my good girl and do your job." Your hands squeezed her rear cheeks. Her soft flesh warm in your hands.
She could see how red she was. The thin layer of sweat was noticeable but not as much as she tried to focus on what the interviewer was saying. You were using her, your length still inside her. you stayed like that for a while, then you started to move. The shock of pleasure shot through her body, biting her lip so hard to keep in the moans that threatened to escape. She felt it again. And again. Every single twitch into her g-spot. It almost had her rolling her eyes in pleasure. But holding in the need to bounce into your length was starting become painful. She needed to come, needed for you to wreak her like you always did. The need for you to leave her satisfied and legs shaking from the strong orgasms. You never left her unsatisfied.
"You alright Jenna?" The interviewer asked when he got no response.
"Uh y-yea. Just think I'm coming down with a cold or s-something."
But then you started to fuck her slowly, her hips being held down by your strong hands. The pace was painfully slow.
"Oh a cold? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to wrap this up as quick as possible."
She covered her mouth with palm of her hand. Masking it as a yawn. As you found a steady but still careful pace. The pleasure she was feeling in this very moment was becoming too much. Just the thought of getting caught had her clenching on your length. The filthy thought stayed. What if people knew what was happening? The thought alone had her wanting to chase her orgasm more.
You on the other hand were having so much fun watching the actress struggle. Twitching your cock deep inside her, seeing her fight the pleasure as she tried to keep a straight face and answer the questions being asked. You could feel her wetness sliding down your cock. The way her thighs were trembling. Ah the self control that she was showing, it made you want test it even more.
Reaching your hand in between her legs, finding the swollen bundle of nerve and pinching it. Loving the muffled squeak that escaped her lips. Her underwear was completely soaked, the feeling of her clit in between your fingers, your own heart beat thumbing in your ears as her walls clenched your length the more you played with her clit.
Her knuckles were white from how tight she was holding the handles on the small laptop table.
"Okay Jenna that's it. Thank you for taking time out of your day to do this interview with me. I hope you get better soon."
"Th-Thank you. And thank you for having me." With a wave the interview was finally over. Slamming the laptop shut. She pushed the table off of you. Not caring that laptop was on the table as it fell on the floor. Her nails scratching your toned stomach. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed you, she needed you to move. The two orgasms that she had while she spoke to the interviewer were not enough. Although her thighs would say otherwise with how much they were shaking.
"Baby please, ffuck me."
The night was spent with rough but passionate love making. If someone asked her why she was walking weird the next day, she had ignored your smug look as she explained how she fell the day before. But she couldn’t deny that she was eager to do it again. The soreness be damned.
:)
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7ndipity · 3 months
Text
“Are You Confident?”
fwb!Jungkook x Plus Size Reader
Summary: The one where you get fed up with Jungkook’s teasing and decide to take him up on his offer.
Word Count: just under 1.7k
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. oral(m. receiving), swearing, Jk starts out fuckboy-ish but turns subby, slight dom reader, reader’s referred to as Noona, not proofread
A/N: This idea has been sitting in my drafts since early December, but I finally managed to finish part one! This is sort of a prequel to this drabble, so if you can read it too if you liked this one. I’ll also be posting part two and a masterlist(hopefully)later this week, so lmk what you think!
Masterlist
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If you had to choose a favorite place in the whole world, you would choose Jungkook’s apartment without a thought. Not your own apartment, not you favorite shop, not even the dream vacation you’d been planning and saving up for forever, just being tucked into the corner of Jungkook’s couch, Bam curled up next to you, his massive head resting in your lap, subtly begging for pets as you vented to his owner about your most recent dating fiasco.
The guy one of your friends had set you up with had seemed nice enough at first, but as dinner progressed, things had progressively gone downhill.
“Did he least pay for dinner?” Jungkook asked, sprawled on the opposite end of the couch.
“I’d assume so, I walked out before the bill even came.” You replied, taking a long drink from your glass.
“Why do you even bother with dating anyway? You said before you hated it.” He asked.
“I’ve told you, I’m… lonely.” You said pointedly, avoiding his eyes.
He squinted at you, understanding suddenly flashing across his face.
“Ah, so you just need to get laid?” He asked, sitting back with a smirk as your face flushed with color. “Why didn’t you just say so? I could help you with that.”
“Ugh, shut up.” You groaned, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
“I’m serious.” He said, following you. “It’s better than fucking some random asshole.”
This type of conversation was a recurring thing in your friendship. Jungkook loved to tease you, and with a relationship that had grown as close as yours had, he had plenty of opportunities.
Your friends often joked that the two of you should just date already with the way you acted with each other, often toeing the line between what was typically considered okay for ‘just friends’. You’d slept in the same bed more times than you could count(a fact that had made Taehyung nearly choke on his drink when he’d found out), you’d even kissed at his friend's New Years Eve party after a few too many drinks and a similar conversation to the one you were currently having, lamenting about not having someone to kiss at midnight.
You didn’t know what had possessed you to do it, all you could remember was hearing the countdown and leaning in, connecting your lips with his for the briefest moment, only for him to quickly chase after yours when you had started to pull away.
Neither of you had brought it up afterwards, but the memory of it was permanently seared into your mind; the feel of his lips moving against yours, the way his hands had gently gripped your waist-
You shook your head, redirecting your attention back to the current moment, trying to ignore Jungkook as he leaned against the counter next to you.
“Look, if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, I’m just offering a possible solution to your problem,” He said, shrugging as he grinned at you. “You know, if you’re really desperate.”
You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. When's the last time you even went on a date again?”
Your words had the desired effect on him, turning his expression sour.
“That’s different, I’ve been… busy.” He said grudgingly.
“Uh-huh, sure.” You grinned triumphantly.
“I mean it though,” He said. “If that’s really all you’re after, I’d be glad to help.”
You blinked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” He shrugged. “I mean, like you said, it’s not like I've got anything going either. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just two friends helping each other out.”
“That is, if you think you can handle me.” He added with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, letting out an irritated laugh. “Please, I could handle you.”
“Are you confident?” He asked, quirking a brow at you.
“Yes.” You answered immediately, catching both him and yourself off guard as you stared him down.
Your words weren’t entirely true, you weren’t all that confident when it came to things like this, but Jungkook had a way of triggering your stubborn streak, whether it was with that cocky smile he always threw your way or the domineering tone he like to tease you with, something about him made you suddenly brave and willing to challenge anything he said.
Normally, that was part of what made your friendship fun, the two of you constantly bickering and at odds with each other, but this was much different than arguing over where to get dinner or what to watch on tv.
You were chest to chest now, able to feel his heart pounding surprisingly fast as he stared down at you.
“Prove it.” He said, his tone having lost its teasing edge as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth.
That was all it took to make you break.
You closed the gap between the two of you, pushing him back against the wall as your lips clashed.
This wasn’t at all like the first time you’d kissed, there was no hesitancy or tender playfulness, it was hot and rushed and needy, full of tongue and teeth.
You were aware of a voice in the back of your head frantically screaming at you, something about how this was terrible idea and could ruin things between you and Jungkook completely, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care as his warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue fought with yours for dominance. He tasted sharp and sweet like the wine you had brought, his skin hot under your fingertips as your hands slipped from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands and earning a low grunt from him.
His grip on your hips tightened before sliding down to grope your ass, grinding you against the growing bulge in his pants.
A surprised squeak left you, making him chuckle against your lips as you mentally cursed yourself. You were not about to let him have the upper hand, not this quickly.
You slipped a hand down between you to palm him over his pants, squeezing just enough to cause what sounded very much like a moan to you to release from his throat, though you knew he’d tried to deny it.
Just as suddenly as you’d begun, you pulled away, making his eyes snap open in confusion.
“What are you-?” He panted, stopping in shock as you dropped to your knees in front of him.
“I’m helping you out.” You said simply, undoing his belt as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Is that okay?”
He nodded, breathing unsteadily.
“I need words, Sweetie.” You said, making him flush at the petname as you fiddled with his zipper. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”
“I want it,” He quickly blurted, giving up control with surprising ease as he stared down at you, eyes black with need. “I-I want your mouth, please.”
“Good boy.” You tugged his jeans down, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers, a small wet patch on the material showing just how eager he was.
“These are cute.” You commented, toying with the waistband before letting it snap back against his skin, making him jump slightly. “Purple looks good on you.”
“Noona, please.” He whined in frustration, his head falling back against the wall as his hips twitched forward involuntarily.
“Fine, since you’re asking so politely.” You pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, hanging heavy in front of your face.
He was slightly bigger than you expected, the tip flushed deep red and leaking precum as you took him in your hand, making him shudder.
“Mm, should’ve known, even your cock’s pretty.” You mused, leaning in to give it a cursory lick, sucking the tip into your mouth for a moment before pulling back, leaving a few kisses along the underside of his length as you glanced up at him to gauge his reaction.
He was staring down at you slack-jawed, his breaths coming out in uneven pants as you pumped him with your hand.
He already looked slightly fucked out and you’d barely done anything to him yet, giving you a massive surge of confidence as you held eye contact with him, gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth before letting it dribble down over his twitching length.
“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, squiming slightly.
Still holding his gaze, you took him fully into your mouth, sinking down as far as you could go.
“Fuck!” He gasped, his head falling back against the wall with a thump as you pulled back, swirling your tongue around him teasingly before sinking down again, letting him hit the back of your throat and holding him there for a moment before pulling off.
You quickly found your rhythm, bobbing your head up and down on him and using your hands on what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
He let out a low whine, fists clenched so tight against his thighs his knuckles had gone white.
Noticing this, you used your free hand to guide his to your head, letting him tangle his fingers in your hair and giving him something to ground himself with.
All too soon, you felt him beginning to tense, his grip on your head tightening as his thighs started to shake.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Where do you want me to-?”
You only answer to him taking him and deeper and swallowing around him, making him cry out as his hip bucked forward, fucking your face as he chased his release.
“Shit, Y/n, I-” His words were choked off with a groan as he came, cumming down your throat in hot spurts.
He slumped back against the wall, breathing hard as you slowly pulled off of him, making a point to meet his eyes again as you swallowed.
“Shit, Y/n,” He said weakly as you stood back up. “That was-”
You cut him off with another kiss, feeling him twitch against your leg as he tasted himself on your tongue.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @ldysmfrst
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wandanatsgf · 3 months
Text
Sugar, Sugar Part 2
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Pairing: WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: You, Wanda, and Natasha go over your sugar baby contract and you experience what it's like having the two women please you.
Warning: This contains smut and the following kinks: degradation, praise, thigh riding, daddy kink, mommy kink (I think that's all of them, but let me know if I missed one)
Author's note: I meant to post this last night, but I ended up falling asleep. Anyway here it is now! I decided to add smut, but since this is the trios first time I kept it pretty tame (at least according to my standards its pretty tame lol)
Part 1
After your little date with Natasha and Wanda, you go home with Kate. You climb into bed, surprisingly happy about how today turned out. You never thought being a sugar baby was something you would ever do, but the prospects of being able to afford rent and bills was just too tempting. And it helped that two of the hottest women in the world wanted you. All of your previous reservations about being a sugar baby had practically vanished after your meeting with the women.
You spend your night texting Natasha and Wanda, just getting to know them. You learn about their lives and they learn about yours.
The next morning arrives pretty quickly, and you're excited because you know it means you get to talk to Nat and Wanda some more.
You check your phone and you see that you have two new messages in your newly made groupchat.
Nat: Good morning hon! Text us when you're up, we wanted to meet today and draft up a contract.
Wanda: And have a good day! Talk to you soon baby!
The messages bring a smile to your face, and you quickly text the two women, telling them you can meet them whenever. They decide to pick you up at 1 and to bring you to their home to have this conversation.
The two women arrive at your apartment promptly at 1pm, just like they said they would. Natasha is in the driver's seat, while Wanda is in the drivers seat. Wanda get out when she notices you approaching so that she can open your door.
"Thanks Wanda," you say, blushing over the fact that this beautiful woman is opening the door for you.
"You're welcome darling," she says back. She makes sure that you're buckled before she climbs back into her seat. Once she's situated Natasha takes off to their house.
The three of you converse the throughout the whole drive. You talk about your school, your friends, their work, and more. Pretty soon Natasha is pulling up to a gated driveway and punching in a code. The gate retracts and lets the car in.
As the car pulls into the driveway, your mouth drops open. You knew the two of them were rich, but you didn't realize just how rich they are. Their house is massive, with it's pool and basketball court and tennis court. From the looks of it, the house has everything you could ever need.
"You might want to close your mouth baby," Natasha says with a smile, glancing back at you in her rearview mirror.
"Sorry," you say. You glance down at your lap, hoping to avoid eye contact with either of the women.
"You don't have to apologize baby, she's just teasing. Aren't you Natty?"
Natasha nods in agreement before saying, "You're just so cute when you're embarrassed honey." Natasha throws the car into park and walks around to open the door for you this time. A blush is gracing your face, and you think in the presence of these two, it's never going to go away. She helps you out the car and leads you into the house, with Wanda right behind the two of you. Wanda goes right, while you and Natasha goes left, where she leads you to a home office.
You sit down in a chair while Natasha sits in the one of the left of you.
"Where'd Wanda go?"
"She just went to get some drinks," Natasha says. "She'll be here soon." As soon as those words left Natasha's mouth, in walks Wanda carrying three bottles of water, a laptop, and a stack of papers. She gives one set of papers and water to you and one to Tasha, leaving one for herself.
Wanda sits down on the seat to your right and then she starts talking.
"I know this can be a lot to take in," Wanda says. "But we just wanted to go over everything and make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into. And if you decide to change your mind, you can back out at any time," Wanda assures you.
“Ok so what’s first?”
“First we wanted to talk about what we’re expecting and maybe tweak some things if we need to,” Natasha says. “The paper we gave you is just an example of a contract and what ours could look like.”
“We’re looking for someone to go to events with us when the other can’t go and to keep us company whenever we want. Are those things you’re okay with sweetheart?” Natasha asks you.
“Yes I’m fine with all of that,” you say. “I’d be more than happy to spend time with the two of you,” you say rather flirtatiously.
“Look who’s getting all courageous now,” Wanda lightly teases.
“I guess the two of you are just rubbing off on me.”
“Mhm,” the woman says, agreeing with you. She eyes you up and down, and you can see her pupils dilating, but the look in her eyes disappears just as quickly as it appeared.
“What’s next?”
“So allowance. We were thinking $2000 a week. Is that enough?” Wanda asks.
Your mouth drops open.
“What is something wrong? Do you need more?” Natasha asks, noticing your shocked expression.
“No! That’s more than enough,” you assure her. “I’m just not used to that much money,” you explain.
"It's no problem baby, you deserve it." Natasha's words bring a smile to your face.
"Next thing we need to discuss is sex, we can put off this conversation until later or we can have it now, whatever you want baby," Wanda says.
"We can talk about it now," you say, a shy smile gracing your face. Even though you were experienced in the bedroom, the topic still made you embarrassed.
"So you know that we're both doms, and I'm guessing based off of that cute, little smile and blush on your face, you're a sub?" Natasha asks. You nod your head in conformation.
And do you know about the traffic light system?"
"Yes, I've used it before."
"Okay good. If you ever need to safe word for any reason whatsoever, just say red and everything stops. We promise we won't be mad," Wanda says.
"Thank you, I really appreciate that, you two," you say.
"You don't have to thank us honey. We're just doing what all doms should do," Natasha says. Her words give you a sense of comfort. You had never been with someone who cared about your wellbeing like the two of these women did. And the crazy thing is, you had just met these women, but you still felt safe with them.
“And aftercare. What do you like?”
“Cuddles, baths or showers, cuddly naps,” you say.
"Okay that’s actually perfect, that’s what we like too. And now we just need to go over some kinks, and you can just tell us if you like them or not, okay sweetheart?" Wanda asks.
"Okay, that sounds good."
"Bondage?"
"Yes."
"Spanking?"
"Yes."
"Praise?"
"Yes."
"Choking?"
"Yes."
"You're a dirty little thing, aren't you baby? It'd probably be easier for us to just ask what you aren't into huh?" Wanda teases you.
"Yeah, unless you'd like to be here all day," you say.
"I'd have no objections to that," Natasha says, making you giggle. "So what aren't you into baby?"
"Blood, scat, feet, extreme pain, ummm," you say, trying to think of more. "I think that's it, or it's all I can think of right now."
"I knew you'd be a dirty little thing," Wanda tells you.
"How do you feel about calling Wanda mommy and me daddy?" Natasha asks, slightly changing the subject.
"I'd really like that," you say. You can already feel your pussy starting to drip just talking about all of these kinks, and your neediness is starting to get to you.
"It looks like you really like that princess," Wanda says, her eyes trained on your lap, where you had been trying to subtly adjust yourself, trying to relieve the pressure in your core.
A whine is the only thing that leaves your lips, and it surprises the two women.
"Sounds like you need some help baby," Natasha says.
"Please," you beg.
Natasha gets up from her chair and goes to stand behind you. She leans down, her lips lightly grazing you ear. "Are you sure baby? I know we said we'd ease you into this, and if you don't want to do anything sexual right now we don't have to," Natasha says, wanting to make sure you're alright.
"I'm sure, please touch me, I need you," you beg both of the women. Before the words had barely left your mouth you're being attacked by two sets of lips and hands. Wanda pulls you onto her lap, she lifts your skirt up a bit, adjusting you so that your panty covered mound is against her thigh.
Wanda's lips attach to the side of your neck while Natasha moves to stand behind the two of you, so that you are face to face with her. She tilts your head up so you can look at her. She presses her lips to yours and her kiss is surprisingly gentle.
Wanda's hand go to your hips, adjusting you so that you're straddling one of her thighs. Her detaches her lips from your neck so she can speak to you.
"Be a good little slut and ride mommy's thigh, baby," the woman says to you. You moan into Natasha's mouth, as she continues to kiss you while you start to slowly grind your hips.
"Come on baby. I know you can do better than that," Natasha says, encouraging you. You start to grind harder on Wanda's thigh, while Natasha's left hand makes it's way to your hair. She threads her fingers through your hair and tilts you head up. Wanda's hands stay on your hips, pushing you down onto her.
"Daddy knows you can go faster than that. Don't make me punish you," Natasha warns. Your hips speed up, your clit bumping against Wanda's thigh with every thrust. You can feel your high quickly approaching, your senses just so overwhelmed by the two women. Natasha's hand slips from your hair to your chest, her hand slipping underneath your shirt and bra, so she can pinch your nipples. The feeling almost sends you over the edge.
"Please, please, please," you beg, the need to cum approaching. The women's touches are overstimulating, it's like you can feel them everywhere.
"Use your words sweetheart. What's my little slut want?" Wanda says.
"Please mommy, please daddy, let me cum," you beg, your thrusts starting to get sloppy as you start to lose control over yourself.
"Cum for us baby," one of the women say, although you're not sure which one it is, too caught up in your pleasure to notice.
Your loud moans fill up the room as you cum all over Wanda's thigh, your panties becoming soaked and sticky as your cum leaks out of your pussy and into them.
"You did such a good job baby," Wanda says. She moves you so that your arms are wrapped around her neck and she presses gentle kisses to your face.
"You're such a good girl, doing everything we asked so perfectly," Natasha praises. The praise makes you cling onto Wanda more, making you more needy than you already are, but the two women don't mind. 'Do you wanna go shower sweetheart?"
"But what about you two?" you ask, referencing the fact that neither woman came.
"This was just about you baby. You can help us out some other time," Wanda says.
"Then can I take a bath please?"
"Of course angel, anything for you," Natasha says.
The three of you make your way to the bathroom, passing through what you think is Natasha and Wanda’s bedroom to get there. Natasha grabbing soap and a wash cloth for you while Wanda makes the bath for you.
"Bubbles or no bubbles?"
"Bubbles please," you say. Wanda grabs her favorite bubble bath and pours some into the tub for you. Soon the tub is filled up and the two women go to leave when you stop them.
"Can you join me please? Unless you don't want to, which is fine," you say quickly, your voice trailing off at the end.
"Of course we'll join you honey," Natasha says. Pretty soon the three of you are sitting in the massive tub, bubbles surrounding the three of you. You’re cuddled in between the two women, while they both bath you.
“Okay are you right to get out now?” Wanda asks. You nod yes and let the two women help you out. They dry you off and give you some of their own clothes to wear.
“Thank you,” you tell the two women once you were dressed, sleepiness lacing your voice.
“You’re welcome sweetheart,” Wanda says, leaving a gentle kiss on your nose.
“Of course, honey,” Natasha says, gently kissing your cheek. “Do you need a nap baby?”
“Yes please,” you say. Hearing you say yes please melts the two women’s hearts, not that they would tell you that though.
The two women take you to their room and lay you gently in the bed. They crawl in too, surrounding you on both sides.
“Go to sleep honey. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Wanda says. The two women leave kisses on your head while you cuddle into them, eventually drifting off.
Once you’re asleep the two women share a look and they both know what the other is thinking. They like you a lot, way more than they’ve ever liked a sugar baby before, and they don’t know what it means yet. But they will gladly find out.
taglist: @alexawynters @marvelwomen-simp @tobiaslut @flositaa
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hentyehottie · 5 months
Text
‎✧ lovesick!chifuyu x hyperfem!bimbo reader : A jealous, pining Chifuyu finally gets the courage to approach you after watching you fraternize with Mitsuya ♡
black fem reader, chubby bimbo reader, reader is a fashion girlie! not really mentioned but chifu studies literature, semi-public sex (I think), kinda whiny reader, kind of a shift at the end. lovesick!chifuyu, reader is a maneater not a mean girl! (jk) Mitsuya & Takemichi make an appearance! There’s like one b*ji spoiler, standing doggy, slight choking, pussy eating, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), excuse any mistakes, MDNI
author’s note: for my bby @prtttycocobuttvr 🫶🏾chile this has been in the drafts for idk how long 🥲 extra long for literally no reason, the bulk of it isn’t even the smut…the ending is so abrupt 😭 but I really needed this out my drafts
wc: 3.7k
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Every now and then Chifuyu thinks back to the day the two of you met.
He fucking hated you at first, he’s ashamed to admit. Was it really hate though? Could’ve been annoyance, jealousy maybe? A lil bit of both is what he’ll chalk it up to. It was love at first sight for him, meanwhile you never gave a second glance in his direction.
He started seeing you more as the weeks passed, the two of you had no classes together, but he still saw you around far too often. You smelled just like marshmallows or vanilla, something sweet that demanded his attention every single fucking time you strutted past him. 
It became a routine—class, cafe and lastly the library where he’d find you doing anything but reading. 
Once a quiet safe haven for him to relax with a good book, now overtaken by the clicks and clacks of you touching up your makeup, or the rustle of a potato chip bag while you sit there with your pink Hello Kitty headphones watching some Netflix drama, even the constant sucking and the jumbling of ice as you slurp down every drop of your boba coffee while waiting for your newest minion to finish your homework.
That day was supposed to be no different. You and one of your minions were heading to that same table, around the same time you always arrived. You looked so damn good too. You always did. 
He was obsessed with your new hair color, black girl blonde is what he learned it’s called. Ash blonde with dark chocolate roots and it’s just so damn pretty he’s losing his fucking mind. Your face is fresh and bare, no makeup aside from a dark blackish-brown lip liner and gloss. Lashes full and fluffy, you must’ve gotten them filled over the weekend.
His eyes are trailing your every move, waiting for the glimpse of your backside that never came.
“Hiiiii Mitsu & friends!” You leaned down to drape yourself over the lavender’s shoulders. Chifuyu tries to keep his cool, brows furrowed and eyes almost as wide as saucers as he watched this strange display. 
And friends? How fucking pathetic is that. Granted, he didn’t know your name either, often referring to you as “that pretty girl” when he spoke about you to Baji’s grave but fuck, that made him feel like shit. 
It’s the first time he’s heard that cute voice of yours and it’s when you’re greeting Takashi fucking Mitsuya?? You guys seem well acquainted and it burns Chifuyu up inside, when the fuck did you two get all buddy-buddy? And what the fuck did Mitsuya have that he didn’t? 
He wonders who initiated the first contact, wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mitsuya, he’d always had the confidence a loser like him lacked. He was also very good with women, unlike Chifuyu. Then again, you seem very bubbly and outgoing so it very well could’ve been you who approached him.
“Here are those fabric swatches I was telling you about. If you decide to use any just let me know! I have tons of rolls and I can bring you some yards.” You hand him a couple of squares of fabric. At least ten 4x4 squares that you took the time to cut and string on a little o-ring like paint swatches. So cute. 
“Thank you, y/n!” He smiles. “I’ll surely let you know.”
Just like that, you’re heading over to your table, minion hot on your heels. 
It’s a quick exchange, and it should’ve been harmless, but boy does it boil his blood. God, did you speak to everyone but him?!
“Y/N,” Damn, he learned your name, heard your voice and watched you diss him all in one sitting. It was insane. “You know her?”
“Yeah, we’ve only spoken a few times but she’s super friendly. She’s an exchange student from the states, a fashion major too, we have classes together.” Mitsuya spoke as he sketched out a few designs for a project. 
“This would make a nice jacket.” He shows Takemichi the blush pink corduroy square for him to feel. “Maybe pants too if she has enough. It’d look nice on Koko, he’s my model.” “It would! It’s nice and soft, like velvet! Koko’s super pretty too, it’ll look great.”
He steals glances at you every now and then. 
“Just talk to her dude, she’s literally so sweet.”
He doesn’t raise his head, still sketching away, but it’s clear who his words are directed to. Mitsuya has known him for quite some time, of course he knew how to read his pragmatic friend. 
“Yeah! Unless you’re scared.” 
He cuts his eyes at the crybaby blonde. Of course he wasn’t scared, just a bit apprehensive is all. 
He looks your way one last time.
Your back is to him and you have your MacBook open in front of you watching a recap of celebrity metgala looks. You’re enamored by your fashion content, even taking notes in your cute notebook with your adorable pom-pom pen. You’re too oblivious—too much of an airhead in your own dumb little world to notice that simp eye fucking you. 
Dude’s practically drooling while staring at your tits. It’s disgusting, enraging even. It boiled his blood, so much that he’s scooting his chair back to approach the both of you. Takemichi and Mitsuya watched him with careful eyes, since he didn’t say a word before he made his move. Fuck it, his pride was already shot and he didn’t have shit else to lose. 
You didn’t even notice him at first, both airpods in, now staring into your hello kitty shaped compact mirror while reapplying that sticky beauty supply lipgloss all over your plump pout. 
Before he could even stop himself he’s snatching up your homework sheet, scanning his eyes over this chump’s work. Wrong. Wrong. Most were either fucking wrong or incomplete! Complete bullshit and he was gonna let you turn that in?!? 
“Get the fuck outta here.” He’s speaks so calmly, it’s all the more sinister. 
The four-eyed geek is snatching up his bag and calculator so damn fast you’d think Chifuyu had a gun to his head. 
It pissed him off so bad! But why did it piss him off so bad? 
Probably because you’ve approached everyone but him as if he’s not one of the smartest people on this fucking campus. Probably fucked them all too, so why were you being so damn stingy with him? And why the hell was he so worried about it?
Chifuyu motions to sit down next to you, thighs spread with his hands clasped between them. He run’s his sweaty palms along his pants every now and then, trying to build the courage to speak to you. 
You give your lips one last smack, capping your lipgloss and shutting your compact. “Hey, you’re Mitsu’s friend! Do you know where…nevermind. I don’t even remember his name.”
“He said he had something to do, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh okay. What’s up?” You finally give him your undivided attention, dropping your stuff into your little designer baguette bag, turning in your chair until you’re facing him. You’re almost instantly entranced by those striking eyes, iris’ the color of sea glass. The dark locks of his undercut styled messy and wild. He’s cute. Real cute. 
“I like you.” Chifuyu has never been one to beat around the bush, even though his heart was nearly beating out of his chest right about now.
“You don’t know me to like me, so if you wanna fuck me, just say that.”
You say it like it’s nothing. Must be used to it by now, constant fetishizing instead of genuine attraction. But the way he’d been pining over you was much deeper than someone who just wanted a quick fuck. You plagued his mind—his thoughts, all you.
He runs his tongue over his lips, not in a creepy way, but because he’s nervous and they’re dry. Either way you still notice it, it’s kinda hot honestly. 
 “I do. I mean I would, but I don’t want to-I don’t have to,” He’s stumbling all over his words and it’s fucking embarrassing. Word vomit, is what Mitsuya calls it, it starts and there’s no telling when it stops. 
“Regardless, I wanna know you–I think you’re so pretty, I like your style, the way you dress and stuff. And I’ll do your homework, if you want. Or I can actually show you how to do it, cus’ if you turn this garbage in you’re sure to fail.” Chifuyu tosses out. He barely wanted to do his own, so why the fuck was he offering to do yours? Was he that desperate for your attention? 
You’re twirling your hair around your finger, head tilted. You’d never had one of them offer to teach you, just always offering to do it just to be in your space. 
“Hmmm..so you wanna be my tutor. I guess, but what’s in it for me?”
The blackette could feel his eye start to twitch, there’s no way you were serious. “I’m doing your homework and tutoring you for free, what the fuck else do you want from me?” He scoffs. 
Greedy bitch. 
“Boy please, I can have any of these other guys doing my homework. You obviously want something from me and I just wanna know what you’ll offer me in return.” 
“I don’t want anything from you, I’just want you.”
You stare at him and he stares back, that adorable face of his morphed into a slight pout. He holds eye contact the entire time, it’s almost intimidating, but his aura is so light and genuine. 
He’s a strange boy, you’ve concluded, but it’s intriguing. 
“Why?” 
“I don’t fuckin know,” He truly doesn’t know, you’re just a dumb girl he happened to see at school. Not the first and definitely not the last, but you’ve been on his mind since he first laid eyes on you. “But I like you, a lot. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He was infatuated and he didn’t know why. 
You divert your eyes, tapping your puffball of your pen against the wooden table. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 
There’s a pause, you look at him and he looks at you before he sucks his teeth. “You’re joking.” Even still, he feels the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock.
“You said whatever I want.” He needs to make sure he heard that correctly. Was it a test? A prank? Because you’re obviously just fucking with him. “But if it’s too forward, we can just study I guess.”
He’s silent and so are you but the way he’s boring into your soul makes you wish you never brought it up at all. “You serious?”
You nod, batting your fluffy mink lashes at him and as lame as it sounds, that’s all it took. 
Next thing he knew, Chifuyu was eating his crush’s pussy in one of the private study rooms. He’s almost embarrassed at how quickly he fell to his knees, eager to slurp on your pretty, plump cunt. 
The library is old. One of the oldest buildings on campus, hasn’t been renovated since it was built. A private study room was the perfect place—just a windowless, concrete box where no one could see or hear you leaned on your back with your feet in the air while he sucked on your pussy. 
Your clit is juicy and suckable, the pink nub catches his attention the minute he slid your panties down and spread your thighs open. 
He’s used to keeping his face stuffed in a book back here, now he’d much rather have his face stuffed between your thighs every second of the day. 
You’re a sight to see right now, tits spilling out from under your top, panties looped around one of your ankles and your skirt is flipped up and out of the way, away from the mess he’s making between your thighs. 
He’s so messy with it, spitting on it and slurping it back up, licking stripes up your sweet pussy until your clit is peeking out of its hood.
“So good.” He breathes out, spreading you wider. From your hole, all the way up and back down again, his tongue leaves no part of your cunt untouched. He’s dragging up one last time before sucking your cute little clit between his lips, running his hands up and down your plush thighs and belly. 
After a while you lean up and your shaky hands manage to pry those supple pink lips away from your clit, his lips leaving your pussy with a loud, wet ‘pop’. “Waittt, I never got your name.” You whined. 
As if names, or lack there of, had ever stopped you. But you desperately wanted to know his and you wanted to scream it when you came—which would be very soon if he kept sucking on your clit like that. 
He’s gazing up at you with those dazzling seafoam green eyes, silvery strands of your slick still connected to his lips when he pulls away from your pussy. 
“Chif-fuck...” He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, resting his head on your thigh for a moment. Your hand is running through his hair, back and forth petting motions until his breathing slowed. “Chifuyu. Matsuno..Chifuyu.” 
He rarely gave his full name, at least not to people he held no respect for. But you were different, he just knew you were. He’d never been this intrigued by another person since middle school when he met the infamous Baji.
“Chi-fu-yu. Chif-uyu.”
You test it on your tongue, wanting to get every syllable right. It makes him fucking melt, the sound of his name flowing from your glossy lips is so pretty. Fuck, he needed to hear you moaning, screaming and babbling it like a little slut. His little slut.
He wastes no time pressing his lips back to your pussy, licking thick stripes up and down, fat tongue relentlessly teasing your entrance and dragging back up to your clit.
“F-fuck how are you so good at this..” It catches you off guard. His head is sloppy and nasty, but not too wet with just enough teasing to drive you insane. It’s almost as if he’d been acquainted with your pussy before this, but you know there’s no way. 
You barely notice how your body subconsciously rocks against him, rubbing your pussy up and down his face, your clit bumping his little button nose every single time. 
Your question falls on deaf ears. 
The once bright-eyed boy is now staring at you, his eyes alarmingly low and glossed over as he loses himself. 
He’s too far gone now, lost in absolute bliss between your thighs—the taste of your gooey, sticky cunt, your moans, the feel of your thighs trembling. Pussydrunk wasn’t even the word.
He lets you use him. Lets his tongue hang slack against his chin for you to grind your puffy clit against it. His face is wet and sticky and he’s covered up to his cheeks in your slick. He can barely breathe, you’re rocking far too fast for him to get a breath in, but even still Chifuyu would eat your pussy until he was blue in the face if it meant pleasing you. 
Every inhale is laced with your scent and it’s like an aphrodisiac. Everything about this was so perfect. He can feel the shivers running up and down your body—you’re close, he knows it and that’s when he gets relentless. 
“G-nna cum for you baby..can I cum?”
Christ, the way his dick jumped should’ve been a sin. Chifuyu hums against your clit, groans his approval so his lips don’t have to abandon your perfect pussy again. You can feel every single lick & suck and even the puffs of air he breathes out of his nose as he slurps on your cunt, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming Chifuyu. Mmm, I’m cumming. Chifu-” 
Your climax hits you like a punch to the gut, knocks the wind out of you and has you doubling over with your hands tangled in his dark locks, your trembling thighs squeezing against his neck. 
Your moans and pants are so sexy, he loves you like this. You don’t even realize you’re running from him until he grips your hips tighter, pulling you forward and holding you taut.
He’s desperate to drink up all you’ll give him, thick tongue gliding over your hole before he’s shoving it inside. Not a drop of your lovely essence goes to waste as you let him get his fill. 
The chime of the desk phone startles you and forces him to part from your cunt. He looks at you and you look at him, you make no move to get it forcing him to. 
“Chifuyu!” The librarian calls, he frequents this place so often that the two of them have gotten quite familiar. “Sorry to bother you and your girlfriend, but the library closes soon-“ She’s checking her watch. “In about ten minutes hun.” 
“Ah, okay! Thank you Miss and she’s not-” When he catches the dial tone he places the phone back on the receiver. 
“She says we have ten minutes until the library closes.” 
Before he can even finish, you’re already on your knees shoving his joggers and underwear down in one swift move. His dick is gorgeous—thick with a pretty pink tip. You’re not sure about the size, seven maybe seven and a half inches. Either way, it fills your mouth perfectly, big and heavy on your tongue as you lick the precum dripping from the tip.
The minute he feels your mouth on him he nearly loses all control, knees threatening to give. Chifuyu grips your jaw, popping his cock out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop.’
He notices a dip in between your brows. A frown? 
A pouty frown on your pretty face accompanied by a roll of your eyes. So cute. 
“Chifuuu,” You whining his name is tearing him apart inside, staring up at him with those doe eyes. “We only have 10 minutes. I wanna make you cum.” 
He’s pulling you back up, spinning you until your ass is pressed against his crotch. 
“I know pretty…I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is breathy, desperate. “That okay?”
It’s soft but he hears it. The soft ‘yeah’ tumbling from your lips, the small gasps of anticipation as  you raise up on your tip toes to meet his height. He’s sliding his length through the junction of your thighs, coating himself in your slick.
It’s so good, this little crevice between your thighs and cunt feels like heaven. Like the warmest hug embracing him with every push and pull of his hips.
He has to force himself to pull away. He wouldn’t be able to face you again if he came from fucking your thighs. 
Blunt fingertips melt into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch as he slides past the tight ring of your entrance, a loud squelch greeting him when he bottoms out. 
You’re the epitome of enticing, a pretty bitch with a perfect pussy, and honestly he feels undeserving. He feels his infatuation for you growing deeper, except this is something he wants, no, needs forever.
He’s so gentle, stroking slow and stretching you out just right cus it’s a tight fit. 
Despite the wetness dripping down your thighs, you feel every single inch of him. The burn of the stretch, the slight ache as he kisses your cervix with every clumsy thrust. Your pussy feels so good around him, like it was made for him. Made to take his dick. 
“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so b-big.”
Snaking his hands around your neck, he’s pulling you up so your back meets his chest, rolling his hips so the thick head of his dick mushes against the gummy walls of your g-spot. Your legs are trembling but he holds you up. Heavy breaths against your ear as his chin rests on your shoulder.
“Mmm, yeah? You don’t think much of me at all, do you? Think you’re too good for me?” 
“Noooo! I don’t think that.” He’s not letting up, stroke after stroke, until you’re creaming all over him, and even then, he still doesn’t stop. “W-would never… think that.”
The thick white fluids settling at the base of his cock, the slick gush of your pussy every time he fucked into you. It was driving you mad. 
“I don’t exist in your world,” Thrust after thrust. “But you consume mine, I want you so bad.”
Your brain is fuzzy, just barely able to make out what he’s saying. “I-ah want you tooo…y’know just h-how to handle me baby.”  
“Yeah,” He breathes out. “Of course I do.”
You’re not sure if it’s the sureness in his voice or the sweet kiss he presses against the bare skin behind your ear that sends you over the edge but your climax hits you like a train carrying the sweetest bliss. You don’t utter a word, just deep breaths and pants, a quiet belt of his name towards the end as you melt into him with every buck of his hips. He feels it—the spasms, the trembling, the cozy warmth you coat him in, an impromptu reminder that he’s unprotected inside of you. Still, he fucks you through it, just until he’s close enough-
“F-f-fuuuck.” The groan rips through his throat as he reaches his end, the grip on your neck loosens as he pushes you down and spills his seed all over the cheeks of your ass. 
He’s so unprepared it’s a shame, forced to use the inside of his turtleneck to clean the mess he made, even going as far as to place you up on the table and wipe between your thighs.
“Oh you didn’t have to- I have wipes..” 
“No big deal, didn’t wanna dirty your skirt. You made this, right?” He rubs the hem of the frayed pink denim, recall’s seeing a square of this same fabric on the ring you gave Mitsuya. 
“I-I did. How did you know?” 
 “I remember seeing you sketching it out. Glad it turned out nice enough for you to wear. It’s cute..” He trails off when you avert your gaze.
“Thank you. I’m glad too…” You trail off and you avert your gaze.
“Don’t go acting shy on me, y/n.” It’s the first time you’ve seen it, something akin to a smile on his cute little face, his eyes are as bright as stars as he stares down at you. It’s odd, almost as if the roles had changed.
“I’m not!” You whine. “It’s just strange, you’re strange Chifuyu.” 
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ozzgin · 4 months
Note
Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^
I love me my morally grey wizard ;)
I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)
Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons
Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.
Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior
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It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).
Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.
Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.
You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.
Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.
After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?
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angry-geese · 4 months
Text
The Weight - Sukuna x Reader
Warnings: smut//not osha compliant. arranged marriage au. blood/cannibalism mention. biting/size kink. unprotected sex, creampies. afab reader
synopsis: an arranged marriage au where the reader chooses sukuna instead of one of the men from her village
word count: 10.3k
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since probably last february and I finally got around to finishing it lol
jjk masterlist
As mid-afternoon turns to dusk, you realize you have nothing to show for your hours in these woods. You know, reasonably, you should cut your losses for the day, and return home. In a little over an hour, it’ll be dark, and navigating these woods will become a challenge. But winter has come and gone with a vengeance, leaving food stores low. The thought of fresh meat is too much for you to quit now.
Fresh tracks mark the once-smooth creek bed. Deer. At least three. They’ve bedded down here, as evident by the smell, and flattened patches of grass. For several meters, the tracks nearly overlap themselves, before heading off in separate directions. It's been years since you’ve traveled this deep into the woods, and those few times were accompanied by your father, or uncle. Your solitude has you jumping at every rustle of a leaf, and snapped twig. It's when the woods fall silent that you need to worry. That means a predator is near. As long as you can hear bugs, or birds, you'll be okay.
Further ahead—maybe twenty yards—is a buck that stopped to drink from the creek. 
You knock an arrow, lining the broadhead up with your target. Something feels wrong. The string feels too taut. It slips from your fingers prematurely. The arrow hits just behind the front shoulder, and—in theory—should puncture the heart. A shot like that—in theory—should drop an animal like this where it stands. Today it doesn't. The buck takes off running.
Between the footprints, and little droplets of blood, a clear trail is left behind. When you do finally come upon your prey, the crickets have fallen silent. The buck lays on its side in the grass, chest heaving. You ready your knife to put the poor thing out of its misery when something—someone—emerges from the treeline on the opposite side of the clearing. 
Your body is moving before you can fully process the situation. You flatten yourself out on the ground, hiding under the cover of some bushes. If the man does see you, then he makes no note of it. He draws closer, stopping to kneel beside the buck. It’s too dark to make out his face. Something about him has the hair on the back of your neck on end. He hauls the carcass up onto his shoulder, turning to return in the direction in which he came. 
The absurdness of it all has you frozen. You blink several times as if to make sure this isn't your mind playing tricks on you. Once reality sets in, you’re back on your feet, chasing after him.
“That's mine!” You say, hoping the volume of your voice is enough to scare off the thief. It isn't.
What you first assume to be another trick of the lighting becomes a horrifying reality as you notice the true size of the man. The man—being, or whatever he is—towers over you, completely dwarfing you in size. Mild annoyance is all that is visible on his face as he turns to you. From the deer, he rips out your arrow, tossing it at your feet. The broadhead has snapped off, as well as the shaft is bent. If you so desire, you suppose you could repair it. Not that you have any wish to. Sometimes it is simply better to cut your losses.
But you have more pressing things to deal with right now.
“And just what do you plan to accomplish, little lamb?” He asks. “A deer like this can weigh as much as a grown man. Do you plan to carry this back all by yourself?”
It’ll be tiring, but not impossible. Gutting and dressing it here would remove a lot of unnecessary weight, but would render plenty of valuable meat and organs useless. All that extra meat and skin could be used better elsewhere…
You are overcome with the urge to run, yet his gaze has your feet firmly planted on the ground. Your eyes fall to a small red splotch on his kimono—a blood stain. It can't be from the deer, it's far too old. It’s not until your knees knock together that you realize you’re trembling.
The action of him moving closer causes a cry of panic to leave you, unintentionally calling out for your father. 
“What—who are you?!” You ask as you scramble backwards. 
“I am Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses, my dear,” he says. “Now, shall we get this back to your home?”
Fear threatens to overcome you. Even if you could draw an arrow in time, you doubt it would truly hurt him. Yet, in spite of your fear, you know he has no plans to harm you. Once you’re in sight of the village, he sets the deer down, and gestures for you to take the lead.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask. You’re certain the look on your face suggests you still expect him to eat you. 
“Why do you ask?” He says. “Maybe I wanted the location of your home. It seems there are plenty of sacrifices here for me.”
“Wait a minute!” You say, eyes widening with fear. A mix of panic and guilt consumes you. “You can't-”
A look resembling amusement crosses his face. “I mean no harm to your village,” Sukuna says, “but in five years, I will return to claim what is mine.”
The strange man would vanish upon reaching the outskirts of your village, and in the nearly five years that follow, you would not once traverse so deep into the woods. On several occasions, you would try to retrace your steps, but would never once come across that clearing. When you would bring it up to your father, or any of the other village elders, your concerns would be brushed off, or outright ignored. Years would pass and slowly, achingly slowly, you would forget about the man in the woods entirely.
The coming spring brings your twenty-eighth birthday, and the looming threat of being an “older” unmarried woman.
If you had any say in the matter, you wouldn't get married at all. Plenty of older women exist, happily unmarried, yet your mother insists that you must find a husband. Any attempts to convince her that you’re fine with the way things are, fail. Once it became clear you weren't going to seek a husband on your own, your mother took upon the task of finding a suitor for you. Over the course of several months, meetings were arranged with various men, and with each rejected one, your mother grew more desperate to find the perfect match. 
Your mother insists you're cursed. Your father thinks you’re simply unlucky. When you asked how marriage was supposed to fix that curse, she had no answer for you.
In the months prior to your birthday, your mother proposed a deal to you: meet with another man—the son of a wealthy merchant. That if this meeting went well, even if you didn't marry him, she would stop pestering you about getting married. Tired of her pestering, you relented, and agreed to meet him. And as the days draw closer, you only feel dread towards him. 
The outcome of tonight has already been decided by you: failure. Whether your mother knows this or not is hard to tell. Judging her tense nature, you suspect she knows your plans.
“I was already married at your age,” she says, tightening your obi, “I used to have a dress just like this.”
“The difference is, you knew him already,” you say, “and I am meeting a stranger.”
“I am simply doing what I think is best for you,” she says. “This is your chance to get out of this village—to live a better life! Don't you want that?”
Her eyes meet yours in one last pleading glance. It makes you wonder; did she have such a conversation with her mother? Did your grandmother go through such trouble to match her to your father? Or did this come easier to her, than it did to you?
You suppose he’s handsome. The silks he wears are clearly expensive, with threads like woven gold. His features are sharp—what one could describe as noble, but you find him truly dull. But he is scrawny—squishy, with hands that show he has never worked a day in his life. The little conversation he makes is dreadfully boring. His father is an older man, with a graying beard, and sagging eyes. His mother is considerably younger, dressed in blue, with a small scar on her chin. Her silky black hair falls down her back. The little conversation you do have is short, but polite. The typical small talk you would have with a stranger.
Your mother does her best to talk you up. She’s gotten pretty good at that over the past few years. Your father interjects here and there, but it's your mother that does the majority of the talking. 
“She’s strong. A talented hunter. Good with a knife.” Your father says. This time, you’re paying attention when he speaks.
Your potential father-in-law seems unimpressed with your father’s attempts to talk you up. Perhaps if you were a son, this conversation would go differently. If you were a son, your mother wouldn't be so stressed about you being married before 30. Your growing irritation mounts when you set down your cutlery, turning to look the old man in his eyes.
“And what about him?” You ask, motioning to his son. “Look at him—how is he supposed to give me a strong child?”
The energy in the room seems to shift entirely. Your father nearly chokes on his wine, but his eyes are firmly trained on your mother. She glares daggers at you, gripping her spoon so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
“What?” You ask. “I am the one getting married. Don't I get a say in this?”
Are you trying to screw this up? Your mother’s face seems to ask.
“A good father controls his daughter,” the man says, “especially one with such a sharp tongue.”
“I can serve this village, or I can control my daughter, but I cannot do both,” your father says, “she’s not a child anymore, she can make her own choices.”
That earns a small smirk from you. Leave it to him to stand up for you.
“That is exactly why this is so grievous,” the man says, “my son will not marry an old maid with an attitude problem!”
“And I will not have in-laws as insufferable as you!” You bring your knife down on the table, narrowly missing his fingers. This little outburst of yours at dinner will certainly have consequences. Your mother’s wrath is only the beginning.
They don't leave in nearly as big of a hurry as you’d expect from a man who was just threatened with a knife, but they do hurry out, making certain not to look back.
“Maybe we should have offered to let them stay,” says your father, “it’s not safe to be out on the road after dark.”
“We’re lucky to not have them send guards after us for that,” your mother says, and for once, you agree with her. “Threatening a man like that is a new low, even for you.”
After such a disastrous dinner, you’re not particularly eager to go find your parents. You linger towards the outskirts of your village for as long as daylight allows you to. Once it grows too dark to stay out, you begin the trek back to your home, praying your parents—or at least your mother—have simply gone to bed. Maybe your father will forgive such a night, but your mother certainly won't. Over the past year you’ve done enough to earn her ire, this will not help your case.
Sitting outside is your mother, her eyes trained on a dying fire. Although she doesn't acknowledge you, you know she’s noticed you. Part of you wonders if you should speak first. Would that even improve your situation, or simply make it worse?
“You win.” She says. 
“What?” You ask.
“You win. I told you I’d stop after this, remember?” She asks. “Besides, I stopped liking him after that comment he made about your father.”
You still don't believe it's over. No tone of accusation clings to her voice, yet you can't help being suspicious.
“I don't get it.” You say.
“I just want what's best for you.” She says. “I want you to live a long and happy life. Are you really content to spend the rest of your life in this village? Stuck taking care of your brother and father?”
“That sounds like the preferable outcome,” you say, “compared to having in-laws I can't stand.”
“Where does he get off calling you an old maid anyway?” She says.
A small smile crosses your lips. This is about the best she'll get, and she knows this, a grin crossing her own face. A moment that should be one of triumph—at least for you—seems to be more sorrowful. The older you grow, the further apart you drift from her, and with that comes a strange, aching loneliness. You long for a time in your youth; the days when she would play dolls with you in-between house chores. You miss the tiny clothes she’d sew for them. The furniture made of timber scraps she’d hand paint. Oh how long has it been since she last braided your hair? Or brushed it? Or helped you wash it? 
Did she have these same feelings about her own mother? Or was it easy for her? Does she too mourn those moments you used to share?
You don't remember her always looking this old. That’s not to say she isn't beautiful still—age does not nullify beauty. But she looks tired now. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent than ever. The skin around her eyes crinkles when she laughs, or smiles. Her hair is littered with grays—like little silver threads. She looks like you.
From within the nearly pitch-black woods comes a scream; not that of an animal, but of man. When the scream rings out again, it’s much easier to understand. It’s a cry for help.
Emerging out of the treeline, and following the main road is a man, half hunched over and clutching his stomach. He makes it several yards into the village before collapsing. Enough blood pours from the wound on his side that you can smell it. A metallic taste lingers in the air, stuck to the back of your throat. Blood. 
You’re the first to run over, followed shortly behind by your mother. The injured, shambling figure collapses upon the road. It’s only as you draw closer that you recognize him, albeit barely: the man from dinner. His clothes at one point in time were yellow in color, but are now stained a deep brown in color from a mix of dirt and blood.
“We need a doctor over here!” Mother cries out, her voice echoing against the wall of trees.
Someone must hear, because eventually a group of men burst out of a nearby house. They make quick work of rolling him onto his back, granting you a better look at his wounds. Three long slashes across his stomach. From your mother comes a gasp, followed by her clamping her hand over her mouth. The young man succumbs to his wounds before anyone is able to help him. He’s lost too much blood. People don't come back from that.
“Was he stabbed?” One man asks.
“Looks like knife marks,” comments another.
“Not a knife,” the oldest of the three says, “claws.”
“Do you think a mountain lion got to him?” You ask.
The oldest of the men shakes his head. “Cats like that don't get this close to towns. They avoid people if they can. A bear, maybe; if he got in between a mother and cub. But even that seems unlikely…”
This is why you don't go into the woods after dark. This is why you lock your doors and close your shutters tight when the sun sets. Bad things lurk out there, but they are not bears, nor are they mountain lions.
Something about the height of a person bursts from the treeline. Atop the legs of a chicken is a head only humanesque in the way corpses are. Sunken eyes sit atop a shriveled nose, and cracked lips. Its skin seems to be hanging off bone. Still, it takes you a moment to register that it’s fear you feel. Your palms prickle with sweat, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The urge to flee is nearly unbearable.
More of these creatures emerge from the direction of the nearly-set sun. They appear to come in all sorts of horrid shapes, and sizes, the smallest being no larger than a bird, and the largest about the size of a cow. Fear threatens to overcome you entirely. At least twenty of the creatures leave the treeline, although you suspect more remain hidden within it. The temperature must drop by ten degrees. It’s as if all the moisture has been sucked from the air. Those who dared leave their homes to look at the source of the commotion have now retreated, locking their doors behind them. 
The collar of your dress jerks backwards as your mother struggles to drag you back towards the house. “Get your father!” She says. “Hurry!” 
“What about you?!” You ask.
“Just get your father,” she says.
And you do so, running as fast as your feet will take you. The chilly night air renders your fingertips numb, and your face burning. He’s asleep in his chair, and wakes with a gasp as you shake him, motioning frantically to the door. The words that leave you are incoherent, but he must understand your panic. He retrieves his sword, telling you to lock the door behind him. You don't listen. You never listen, you can hear your mother say now. A sudden burst of light draws your attention—a nearby house has caught fire. Those strange, horrid creatures swarm around it like flies. Several neighbors have exited their houses, and begun throwing buckets of water upon the blaze, but the fire is too strong.
And from the treeline emerges that man from the woods all those years ago. 
In five years time, he has not aged a day. His cruelly sharp features appear the same within the flicker of the firelight. They fall before him on their hands and knees, heads bowed in fear. You only realize you’re shaking when you move closer to the window, peeking out through the crack in the shutters. 
The King of Curses, he called himself, all those years ago.
His mouth moves as if he's speaking, but you can only make out about half of what he says. The ringing in your ears is too loud to make sense of much.
“My offerings lessen, my shrine lies defiled,” he says, “and you humans sit here complacent. I gave you five years to make amends and this is what you do with it?”
You know, logically, that your father is going to die. He is no match for the creatures, let alone that strange man. You must do something. Even if it is beyond logic, or reason, you would not forgive yourself if you did not act.
“Then what is it you require of us?” Asks father, his hands trembling slightly. You can tell it’s more than just the dancing light of the fire. He is truly frightened.
“An offering,” says the King of Curses. “A sacrifice.”
“We have nothing to offer,” says father, “the river has run dry of fish—our crops have withered! We have nothing to offer, we’re starving regardless!”
The King of Curses eyes drift to your hiding place, before landing back on your father. “You said it yourself.” He says. “You’ll starve regardless. What difference does it make that you should give up one of your own? Won't there only be less mouths to feed?”
Your arrows rattle loudly as you pull one from your quiver, knocking it. From this angle, and sitting half crouched on the ground, you can't bring it to a full draw. Not only does that mess with your aim, but alter the power of the shot too. That can be accounted for. You adjust your angle to be a little higher—right above his head. When you release the string, the arrow gives way with a thunk! The shot is dead on; your arrow whistling towards the demon king’s head. He brings his spear up, knocking it aside. Several heads whip back towards you, their faces contorted in a mix of anger, and fear. 
You’re not quite sure who grabs you first—it must be more than one person. Several sets of hands are upon you, dragging you from the house. Any attempts to fight it fail on your part, there are simply too many people to kick off. They drop you in the dirt beside your father. You don't dare look at him. You know his eyes are filled with fear. 
“We’ll—we’ll put it to a vote,” says one of the elders. “All those in favor of sending this woman as an offering…”
Two other elders raise their hands. Then several of the men. Then, reluctantly, the mother of a neighboring family. Even more hands pop up after that. Although maybe a minute passes, it feels like hours. At least a dozen sets of eyes are on you.
“Out of all of you,” the demon king says, eyes following across the crowd that’s now gathered, “she was the only one of you to fight back, yet you punish such an action?”
Silence is the only response the crowd can conjure up. A groan so loud that the ground rumbles beneath it rings out as the house gives way, collapsing in on itself in a rain of ash and embers.
“Wait!” Your father cries out, “let me go in her place!”
Several more incomprehensible sentence fragments leave him. He pleads and pleads to no avail. The last view you get of your village is of the spirits retreating back into the woods.
It must be hours before your state of shock wears off. Dawn breaks bleak and gray over the horizon. The temple he brings you lies in ruin. You must be one of the first people to set foot in here in years. A cracked foundation gives way to walls overtaken by vines. Dust and ash layers the ground, and every surface imaginable.
Sukuna must not expect you to try to run. Nothing is done to prevent you from escaping. There are no doors to lock. No ropes or cages. The only real barrier of escape is the trek home through miles of woods. Should you wait until sunrise, the trip won't be impossible. It is the fear of what remains for you that prevents you from returning.
Would there even be anything to go back to? Is it even worth it after what they did? They did not hesitate as they offered you as a sacrifice. Whatever happens to them… they have it coming.
Such thoughts do little to comfort you. If anything, they make you feel worse. What little strength you have left goes into stopping the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. You manage. Barely.
Unable to find it within you to do anything else, you sit. Only a thin, woven mat separates you and the hard floor. Footsteps draw closer down the hall, the noise only amplified by the high ceilings of the temple.
Uraume. That’s what Sukuna called them. A strange being that looks human, but appears to be more than such. They enter the room, a shock a white hair visible before the rest of them is. They wear the kimono of an unmarried woman, in vibrant shades of orange, blues, and pinks woven in the pattern of flowers. Hooked around one arm is a pail of water. Under the other arm is a roll of cloth. Contained within the cloth is a mix of hygiene supplies; a sponge, comb, various vials of oils and creams. 
Uraume treats you like one would treat a frightened animal. They kneel on the ground before you, leaving about the distance of a foot. When you don't flinch, or shy away, they move closer.
“You’re covered in ash,” they say, “let me help.”
With the sponge, they dab away the bits of dirt and ash that have caked to your skin. Human contact like this should, in theory, be intimate, but in this situation it feels like anything but that. Uraume’s touch feels cold, and clinical. With them comes a strange, uncanny feeling, like you are not looking into the eyes of a human, but of a corpse. The reason behind their kindness is a mystery to you. It feels wrong to question them, but you can't help but think there is something sinister behind their actions. Their casualness suggests this isn't the first time they’ve done this. That thought does nothing to comfort you, so you quickly push it aside.
Next, they move on to your neck, then down to the exposed bits of your chest, and shoulders. 
“Such a beautiful dress,” they comment. You reply weakly, saying it belonged to your mother. Their response to that is little more than a hum.
They take your hands, scrubbing the dirt from under your nails with a small brush. After that, a comb is worked through your hair, taking great care to not pull on any knots that have formed. Once they can work their hands through your hair with no resistance, they stop.
Uraume leans back to examine their work, deeming you presentable. Gathering what they brought with them, they make their way towards the door, turning back once to say: “I’ll bring something to eat.”
The events of the night have left you without an appetite. You probably should eat something. It’ll be important to keep your energy up. The little adrenaline left within you has you jumping at any small noise, or shadow. Sleep feels like an impossibility right now.
About ten minutes pass before Uraume returns carrying a platter. Tea, pickled vegetables, a hunk of bread, a bowl of some kind of stew. It smells quite good, but you merely pick at it. Like your hesitation to sleep, you can hardly eat. Uraume sits with you, picking at their own food, but never finishing it. A million questions race through your mind, although you can barely bring yourself to ask them.
Would they even answer you? Or does this have a more sinister plan behind it?
Finally, you find enough of your voice to ask: “Where is…?”
“I’ve prepared a bath for master Sukuna,” they say, “he’ll be joining us shortly.”
Your attention turns back to the bowl in your hands, which soon slips through your fingers, breaking upon the floor. What little appetite you had is soured entirely. This is it. You’re nearly certain you’re going to die here.
Your attempt to clean up the mess is stopped by Uraume. They insist upon cleaning it themselves, taking great care not to cut their hands on the shards.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask, shocked at how small your voice sounds.
“Master Sukuna likes to play with his food before he eats it,” they say.
Uraume leaves shortly after, taking the leftover dishes with them. You remain seated, eyes moving between the two exits of the room. One takes you to the entrance of the temple; you’re not certain where the other leads. The first is almost guaranteed to be guarded, though. Trying to run now is a bad idea. But when will you get another chance?
You will not sit idly by as death draws closer. Like the previous night, you feel as if you must do something. It was your own foolish actions that got you into this mess, says a small voice in the back of your head.
Trapped under your heel is a small pottery shard, left over from the shattered bowl. It’s small enough to conceal in your palm. Sharp. Better for stabbing than it is slashing, but it will be good enough at either. Once Sukuna returns, you’ll get your chance.
The rush of adrenaline has started to wear off now, rendering your arms weak, and your legs shaky. If you were to sit down now, you’re certain it would be a while before you get back up. It is the body fighting itself; fight or flight mode mixing with exhaustion. If you do not stop and rest, your body will give out on you eventually.
So you stand there and pace, clutching your shard of pottery close. Maybe thirty minutes pass in the time it takes Sukuna to enter, but it feels like hours. Adrenaline turns into fatigue.
Tears burn at your eyes again, but you’re able to blink them back. A mix of shock and betrayal has left you nothing short of exhausted. Sukuna’s towering stature only helps to make you feel like a lamb about to be devoured by a wolf.
“I trust Uraume has been of assistance,” Sukuna says. 
Unsure of how to respond, you simply nod.
“What now?” You ask. “Is this the part where you’re supposed to eat me?”
That earns a laugh from him, although it’s strange sounding, as if the very action is foreign to him.
“Many decades ago, the people of your village—among others—would hold a festival during harvest season,” he says, “it was meant as a sign of peace. An offering in return to not raze their homes,
“The people of your village have grown laze, and complacent. They have forgotten their place as humans, and needed to be reminded of it. You are simply another offering. Something to tide me over.”
Sukuna draws close enough for you to feel his breath across the back of your neck. You shudder. Adrenaline courses through you once again.
This is it, you think, you are going to die. 
In one last attempt to preserve your dignity, you aim for his jugular, and swing the shard of pottery towards it. A hand wraps around your wrist before it can make contact. A second set of arms are trapping you against his body before you can even register it. His breath is warm against your cheek, teeth inhumanly sharp in the dim light.
“You are entertainment.” He says. 
That same set of sharp teeth drag up your neck. Some sick sense of pleasure runs up your spine at the feeling: being a little lamb in the jaws of a predator. It would take so little effort from him to render you lifeless that it’s almost comical. Adrenaline turns to delirium in your mind. 
What happens if he finally grows bored of you? It’s not a matter of “if” in this case, it’s a matter of “when”. You have an idea of what will happen once he does.
You don't hear him leave, so much as you notice his lack of presence.
Sukuna is gone for most of the following day. In that time, you explore much of the temple in an attempt to gain your bearings. It’s sparsely furnished, and dilapidated for the most part, but there are some signs of life. On a lower level of the temple is a bedroom, where the bed alone is as big as a room in your home. Must be Sukuna’s. Another, smaller room appears to be Uraume’s quarters. A small kitchen branches off the hallway not far from this. 
The later half of the day is spent trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. Thick woods surround the structure, spreading out for what must be miles. To the North is a creek. If you followed it, you might possibly meet up with the river by your village. Whether you could do so before nightfall is another question entirely. Finding yourself stuck in unfamiliar woods past dark may prove to be a death sentence.
Even if you could go back, would you want to? Their lack of hesitation towards sacrificing you still rings clear in your mind.
Sleep seems to be the best way to pass the time. There isn't much else to do around here. In the hours before dusk, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, and into the woods that surround the temple. You justify it by saying that fresh air will do you good, not that anyone asks you. The only person around to do so would be Uraume, though you don't see much of them.
Heavy fog settles upon the trees, causing the day to take on a quiet, sleepy nature. Little cream-colored mushrooms pop up through the layer of moss and dead leaves that blanket the forest floor. Carved out over years of use is a dirt path, barely wide enough for a person to walk through. Following it for about ten minutes brings you to a pond. At one end, the start of a small creek leads downhill. Little fish are visible just under the surface. Leaving your socks and shoes at the shore, you wade out into the water. It’s cool, but not chilly. The mud feels soft underneath your feet. Being outside helps settle your nerves a bit. Outright terror is replaced with uneasiness now. While not entirely better, it’s an improvement to your previous mood.
From the treeline opposite of the path you took, a figure enters the clearing. Sukuna. Adrenaline spikes through your body at the sight of him. Your pulse quickens, and fear prickles in your palms. Every cell of your being is telling you to run.
Sukuna motions with his hand for you to follow him. It is not an offer, so much as it’s a command. Following a short walk on a stoney path, you find yourself overlooking a rock cliff-face, and a small wood hut. Scattered about are several steaming pools, which bubble up from the ground, layering upon the cliff-face like stairs.
Sukuna undressed at the wood hut, leaving his clothes hanging upon the rafters. Your gaze remains firmly on the ground. You should not be seeing him like this. This feels far too intimate. You try not to let your gaze linger too long, but can't help it. The sight of his back alone is hard to tear your eyes away from; the muscles, the tattoos, the curve of his spine. There is a strange, supernatural beauty to him. You eye him with caution, yet curiosity. 
Why has he brought you here? What does he want? Is this simply a ritual before he eats you?
Certainly, if you were to scream, no one would be nearby to hear you. 
It strikes you just how easily his teeth could tear through your jugular. How his sharp nails could shred your flesh to ribbons. Sukuna is far faster and stronger than you, outrunning him is not an option.
Following his lead, you undress, and leave your clothes folded neatly upon a rock. Next comes the task of taking down your hair, and combing through it with your fingers, finding it still knot-free from the events of the previous night. Only then do you approach the largest of the three pools, and wade into it. At its deepest, it's a little above your waist. You could walk all the way across and never once have your feet leave the ground.
You settle upon a rock towards the edge, half submerged in the pool. The hot water feels nice upon your sore muscles. Your eyes trail ribbons of steam as they curl off the water. A wave of self consciousness rolls over you. You sink further into the water, crossing your arms in front of your chest. It’s up to your chin now. Sometime during this, it starts raining. The droplets leave little ripples across the surface of the water. Fall brings the smell of damp earth, and decaying leaves with it. Something that should be comforting only makes your stomach turn.
“You look frightened, little lamb,” Sukuna says.
Is it so obvious? 
“I still don't believe this isn't some attempt to eat me.” You ask, though you’re not certain you want the answer.
“Had I wanted to eat you, I would have had Uraume make preparations.” He says.
You still don't believe him. How many people met their fate at his hands before you? There is no reason why you would be lucky—why you would escape your fate.
“Then what is it you want from me?” You ask.
His expression softens, shoulders lowering with a sigh. The space between his eyebrows is not so harshly creased anymore. 
“I am not like the typical curses you have met,” Sukuna says, “I require your permission.” 
“Permission for what?” You shrink back as he draws closer, stopping mere inches from you. He’d tower over the tallest man, let alone someone like you.
A kiss. Hungry, and overbearing, but a kiss nonetheless. Sukuna has to lean down, and you have to crane your neck up to complete the action. His movements feel stiff, clinical, as if he hasn't done this many times before. The action causes warmth to bloom in your chest, and spread out to your limbs. The hands that cup your face are nearly large enough to encompass it entirely. He tastes like wine, and something vaguely metallic. The thought that it might be blood crosses your mind for only a moment. You’d much rather think about other things. 
“Will you devote yourself to me, completely and entirely?” He asks.
Funny, you think, had a human man asked you the same thing, you would have laughed in his face. Yet you find yourself bewitched by the King of Curses. Curious, and cautious all the same. This is not a feeling of love. It is something else entirely. You are a sacrifice, you remind yourself, this is the fate of a sacrifice.
“I devote myself to no man,” you say, “I don't see how you'd be any different.”
He hums in amusement, circling around you in the water. He stops behind you, slightly to your right. Sharp teeth graze across your shoulder. Large hands trace their way up your hips, then your body, coming to rest just below your breasts. You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the strange pressure that has built up. Your heart rate picks up in pace. Sukuna must be able to sense this. A low laugh leaves him as he pulls away.
“Well then,” he says, “do I have your permission to continue?”
Continue what? You wish to ask. As if against your mind’s wishes, your head moves in a nod. “Yes,” you say.
You can only imagine the look on his face as you have your back to him. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth radiate off his body. Is he pleased? Amused? Smug that all it took was a kiss to make you let your guard down? 
Hands that should be calloused and rough are quite gentle with their touch. One comes to rest upon your hip, before trailing down to the space between your thighs. Seconds in and your knees seem to give out, your body supported only by him. One finger presses into you, then a second. You sigh at the intrusion. There’s little resistance as he presses into you. You’re too wet. Sukuna’s fingers are much larger than your own, though the stretch you feel is pleasant, not painful. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, drawing a low laugh from him. You can feel it rumble within his chest, which your back is pressed flush to.
Being so close to another being feels odd. The only intimacy you know is a platonic one. A familial one. This is different. Stronger. More intense. He finds the spot that makes you squirm and abuses it, toying with you like prey. It must be a game to him, you think, like cat and mouse. With one of your hands over your mouth, you try to muffle the lewd noises that spill from you. It’s a losing battle. All sorts of pleased sounding noises—from both you and him—echo through the clearing. Secretly, you’re glad this place is so remote. Should someone hear the lewd noises you’re making, you wouldn't recover from the embarrassment. He brings you just to the edge, but refuses to let you cross over. Frustration turns to desperation as you grind against him, chasing your own release. Sukuna doesn't appear opposed to your actions. He lets you work yourself up to—and through—your own release, the noises you make growing gradually more obscene until they come to a head in the form of an orgasm.
You remain in the water for a while afterwards. The layer of fog overhead makes the day take on a lazy, sleepy nature. His hands comb through your hair as you lay against his chest. Such a moment feels uncharacteristically tender for him. While you expect them to be sharp, his nails feel nice against your skin. The mouth on his stomach resembles a smirk, although the expression on his face is flat. Unreadable. A slight pang of disappointment shoots through you. You know it’s unreasonable of you to expect humanity from someone inherently inhuman. He does not—he can not—process things the way you do. Humans must appear so small and fragile to him.
You’re uncertain of how much time passes as you lay there, your limbs tangled with his. It doesn't feel like long enough. No time would feel long enough. You crave the touch of another being whether you want to admit that or not.
“It’s getting late,” he comments. Without another word, you watch as Sukuna dresses himself, and leaves.
You follow him as quickly as you can. You’re not quite fast enough, arriving back at the temple long after him. Dusk follows soon after. 
You find no sign of the King of Curses upon your return. Finding yourself with not much of an appetite, you head straight to bed. Uraume stops by once to offer tea, but you decline, insisting you’re tired, and just wish to sleep. Whether or not they believe you, you can't tell. That’s about the extent of every conversation you have; polite, but short.
Sukuna must not need to sleep. Not in the same way you do. You dress down into your underclothes, leaving the rest folded neatly upon a chair. They’re not dirty, just slightly wrinkled from the events of today. You crawl into the bed much larger than you, and attempt to sleep. When he crawls into the bed beside you, you do nothing to protest.
As time passes, you grow used to his presence. Falling into a routine takes mere days. In that time, you don't see much of Sukuna, or Uraume. Maybe it’s for the best. You’re not certain what you’d say to either of them. You figure it best not to question what Sukuna gets up to in his free time. If the events at your village are anything similar, you figure it best to pay them no mind.
The longer you spend here, the more curious you find yourself. At least twice you find your way back to the hot springs. Familiarizing yourself with the surrounding woods has you growing more confident when navigating it. Animal tracks and trails reveal themselves, bringing more life to the woods. 
Fall turns to winter. Rain gives way to snow, bringing in a bitter stormfront. It’s hard to tell how many days pass as the storm hits, rendering the three of you confined to the temple. Sukuna doesn't appear bothered at all by the cold, but you spend many bleak nights huddled by a fire. Sukuna approaches you on one of these nights; perhaps the bleakest and darkest one before the storm finally breaks. Your inability to leave the temple has you ready to claw out of your own skin. Never were you one to stay in one place very long. 
Days have passed and you haven't spoken much to one another. Not since the day at the hot springs. You find yourself especially longing for them on a day like this, where the cold makes your joints ache, and your lips cracked. Winter is among your least favorite of the seasons. A hot and sticky summer day was always preferred over a day like this. Sukuna must sense it. He finds you curled by the fire, wrapped in an assortment of quilts and fabrics. You can't tell if it’s morning, or evening. Snow has rendered midday as dark as dusk. 
You know you should get up, and toss more wood onto the fire. Should you let it die any further, it’s unlikely you’ll get it started again. Sukuna joins you in the room, sitting on the mat to your left. Finding yourself searching for warmth, you move closer to him. It’s an unconscious action at first. Once you recognize it, you can't find the willpower within you to stop.
You offer the edge of the blanket to him, basking in his warmth as the quilt is wrapped around both of you. One of his hands comes to rest upon your knee. Your gaze is trained on his face, while his remains on the dying fire. 
“I don't suppose you do this to every sacrifice you get,” you say, not expecting an answer.
The corners of his lips twitch into something that resembles a smile. Much life his laugh, his smile is stiff, and rather foreign feeling. Like he hasn't done such a thing in centuries.
“You are different from the sacrifices I have received in the past.” He says. 
You get the impression he is still figuring out what to do with you. Such a thought doesn't inspire confidence on your part, though you assume your situation could be worse. 
You're nearly in his lap now. The hand on your knee soon moves upwards onto your thigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he palms himself through his clothes. Some sick part of you wishes to taunt him. To tease him in the same way he has done to you. You part your legs just enough to encourage him. There must be something wrong with you, you think, no normal woman would enjoy the company of the King of Curses.
This is not your typical virgin sacrifice. It is little more than that. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. To fuck without the intent to procreate.
“I always assumed you wouldn’t have these… urges.” You say.
“Many things lost their potency,” he says. “Food was never enough to satiate, drink was never enough to quench thirst. Sex has remained the same. Primal pleasure never loses its potency.”
So he was human. At least at one point in time…
“Like I said,” he hums, “I am not like the typical curses you have met. I require your permission.”
“You have it,” you say. 
Oh how dearly you wish to recreate the event at the hot springs. To feel the same build-up of emotions, and the following release. Such mindless pleasure has remained in your head, unable to be stifled by your own hands.
Off comes your kimono, guided down your shoulders by his hand. Your nipples stiffen when exposed to the open air. It is not the cold that has you shivering, but the expectation of what’s to come. His size, and calloused hands suggest his touch would be harsh, but you find to be the opposite. Sharp nails graze down your sides as he moves to kneel before you. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.
His own clothes are left among the growing pile on the floor. He pumps his stiffening cock in his hand, the head of which weeps across his palm. A different kind of heat blooms in your stomach.
 Sharp teeth graze across your jaw, down your neck, before eventually nipping at your shoulder. A sting both painful and pleasurable radiates from the bite. Blood beads from the two points where he managed to break the skin, quickly lapped away by him. Part of your brain is telling you to push him away. The other part is telling you to expose your neck further. You’re not certain which to listen to as you lay under him, caged within his arms. Your breaths grow ragged, turning into quiet moans as his knee nudges your legs apart. This is different from the day at the hot springs. Sukuna is seeking something more—he is seeking his own pleasure this time.
A hand finds its way into your hair, gently tugging at it. Guided by his hand, you expose your neck further to him. He laps at the droplets of blood that form, sucking dark marks into the skin of your neck. Pain and pleasure overlap in your mind. Your thighs are a mess of your own slick, and the precum that leaks from the heads of his two cocks. It’s almost comical how you work yourself up in knots at only the slightest provocation by him.
You taste yourself on him as he kisses you. The bleeding from your neck has mostly stopped now. What remains will barely leave a scar. His lips trail down your neck, through the valley between your breasts, and down your stomach, before eventually stopping just shy of your cunt. The look of him alone has you growing as wet as a virgin; his hair disheveled from your hands running through it, the muscles in his shoulders appear more prominent now. His arms hook around your thighs, although he doesn't need to bother holding your legs open. You’d do it without prompt by him. Eager for your own release, and worked up into a soaked mess, you’d do anything to please him.
You shouldn't be enjoying it as much as you are. You know you should be afraid. It would take no effort from him at all to tear through your femoral artery, and let you bleed out. You would be helpless in the matter anyway; you’re nothing more than a little lamb trapped under a big bad wolf.
The feeling of his tongue is strange. With him on his knees, bowed in what resembles worship, has your stomach in knots. The lewdness of it all has you more worked up than anything else. A strange, pleasurable tension builds within you. He is not toying with you this time, but working you over. When you do finally cum, you cum hard, riding out your high on his face. The noises he’s making suggest he’s enjoying this almost more than you do.
He must be painfully hard now. The head of his cock is an angry shade of red, and leaking precum. Using his hand to guide him, the head of his cock presses into you. You’re too wet from his previous actions to notice much of a stretch. What little pain there is crosses over with pleasure in your mind. He groans as he sheathes himself within you fully. His expression softens just enough for you to take in the features of his face. He’s quite handsome now that you’re close enough to appreciate his looks. It makes you wonder what his life as a human was like. Was he royalty, or a commoner? What was his job? Did he ever have family?
You won't get an answer out of him no matter how hard you try. This is the most human the king of curses will ever appear. 
His thrusts are slow at first. Lazy. More like grinding, not proper fucking. With as sensitive as you still are, this doesn't make much of a difference. You’re still a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Judging by the noises he’s making, he’s not far from cumming himself. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, and that seems to only encourage him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders gradually grow more tense before he shudders, then visibly relaxes. A warm sensation in your cunt follows soon after; he’s cum inside of you.
You lay like that for a while: limbs entwined, bodies curled around each other. He lets himself soften inside of you until the desire to pull out hits. You can tell your hips will be sore in the morning—whenever it decides to come. What little of his seed spills out of you is forced back in by his fingers. You assume it ties into his possessive nature. It must be a way of marking you as his. The fire has long since died out, though you find the warmth from his body adequate enough. 
“I don't think I can walk,” you lie, “carry me?”
Sukuna feigns annoyance, but relents, carrying you to the bed too large for any human. You quickly find your way under the covers. He finds himself in the space beside you. Fatigue hits you soon after, yet you find yourself unable to sleep.
“You were human once?” You ask.
The mood in the room seems to shift entirely. Sukuna is not one for conversation. You expected no different from a man like him. He looks at you with mild annoyance, as if deciding on his answer.
“I was. Once.” He says.
Your fingers trace across the tattoos on his wrist. “Do you miss it?” You ask. “Being human, I mean.”
“I am far stronger now than I was when I was a human.” He says. “I no longer need to eat, nor drink. I have the gift of eternal life so long as I am smart with my actions. I do not miss the fragility that comes with humanity.”
His words almost irritate you. So much more exists to humanity than what he says, from little things like sharing a summer even with a friend, tearing into ripe persimmons. Spending an evening hunched over a stew pot helping your mother. Kisses shared between a lover in the woods, or out in the fields. Stories exchanged by firelight. Intricately woven fabrics and paintings that might as well be indistinguishable from real life. So many beautiful things exist within humanity. Maybe he’s been away from it so long he’s forgotten the extent of it.
Would the King of Curses even admit he’s lonely? Or would he be too prideful to admit such a thing?
“You're sad. Why?” He questions.
“Was just thinking about my mother. That's all.” You say. “She wanted me to get married before I…”
You’re mad at her. More mad than you’ve been at anyone in your life. Yet you wish for nothing more than her comfort in this moment. A wound exists that time won't heal. Anger is not productive in fixing it. Anger only makes it worse.
This time, you are the one to initiate the kiss. You wish for it to distract you, but it only amplifies the ache in your chest.
“If you were to lose what little fight you had left in you, then this would no longer be fun,” he says.
You grow used to the ever-present shadow that is Sukuna, talking to the space beside you as if he is there because hell, sometimes he is. He is more than a mere man. He exists on a level different from you or anyone else. Your existence at this temple feels less like confinement and more like living. 
“Will you join me?” He asks one day by the river. 
The two of you sit upon the riverbank, watching as the water swirls below you. Spring snowmelt, combined with a recent storm, has stirred up the river bottom, turning the water murky. What was meant to be a fishing trip has proved unsuccessful.
“I would be lying if I said I haven't grown used to your presence.” He says.
“Don't be getting soft on me,” you say, half joking.
The most emotion you get out of him is an amused sounding huff. 
“I want you to join me,” he says, “not in life as human, but in eternity as a curse.”
“I will,” you say. 
No thought is needed for your answer, nor is there any hesitation on your part. Sukuna simply nods. That is what love is to him. Devotion. Worship. Throwing away your humanity means nothing if humanity is so quick to reject you. 
Gifts begin appearing around the temple after that. Priceless jewelry, and expensive dresses. Hair pins and cosmetics. Seasons pass in what feels like no time at all. Before you know it, your third fall here is quickly approaching. Winter comes and goes—uncharacteristically bitter this year. Spring brings a sense of rebirth. The ground thaws slowly, and plant life is in full bloom. Animal life returns to the surrounding woods, showing signs in every trail around the temple.
A hunting trip brings you further out into the woods than you’ve traveled before. You don't realize you’re nearing a human settlement until you’ve stumbled upon it.
The village has changed drastically in the time you were gone, so much so that you almost don't recognize it. A full blown mill has sprouted up along the river. At least twice as many houses stand now. Years ago this street was little more than a dirt path. Sometime over the years it has been paved over with river stones. Children play in the streets. Men walk home with pails of fish slung over their shoulders. These strangers notice you and pause, returning to their homes quickly. 
Your house remains mostly the same. Age has not been kind to it. One corner of the roof sags, and the wood trim has grown bleached with time. The path up to the front steps is overgrown. Sitting outside, hunched over a wash bin, is your mother.
Her hair is mostly gray now. Wrinkles mark her skin, and her joints are knobby, but you would still consider her beautiful. The face of the woman she once was is still there. The clothes she wears are of rich fabrics, suggesting your family has not hurt for money. Her sturdy figure suggests they never lacked food either.
When she sees you, her eyes grow wet with tears. And it’s as if the weight of the world has lifted off your shoulders. You want to be angry at her. You want to unload years of anger upon her. You want her to feel just a fraction of the fear you've felt. But you can't bring yourself to do it. The look in her eyes tells you she’s felt all the emotions you have.
Her movements are laced with hesitation, as if she’s deciding whether or not you're real. One of her wrinkled hands takes yours. 
“I love you,” she says, “and I am so sorry.”
“I know,” you say.
She invites you in for tea, setting the table up with the nice dishware—the kind she only uses for guests. The interior of the house hasn't changed much. Your room is eerily the same, as if it hasn't been touched since the day you left. Your father’s boots, and hunting coat remain by the door, although they look as if they haven't been moved in years. Makes sense, you think, hunting is a task that grows difficult as you get older. There comes a time in every hunter’s life where they grow old, and it becomes their turn to stay home and tend the fire.
“Where's…?” You never get the chance to finish your question, the solemn look on your mother’s face is enough of an answer.
“He passed,” she says, pausing to think, “two springs ago now? Maybe three.”
Believing you would never see them again, you grieved your parents long ago.This particular grief is like an old wound to you.
“The village looks prosperous,” you comment. A bitter tone clings to your voice.
“Yes,” she says, “the past years have been kind to us. I suppose we have you to thank for that?”
She sits across from you, her eyes still wet with tears. It feels like you are holding a conversation with a stranger. Your mother regards you with a certain weariness she only reserves for strangers. Maybe it would hurt more if you had more room within you for grief.
“He never stopped looking for you, you know,” she says, setting a cup of tea in front of you. “Even after the village held a funeral for you. He never wanted to believe it. Until the day he died, he was out in the woods thinking he could bring you home.”
“I was under the impression I wasn't wanted here.” You say.
“You know that’s not true,” she says. “What happened that night was a result of fear. The elders did what they thought would preserve the safety of everyone.”
“Except for me.” You say.
Fear. Right. To them, you were simply a sacrifice. You drain the last of your tea, standing from the table. Your mother stands as if to stop you, but freezes before she can.
“Does he treat you well?” She asks.
“Yes,” you say.
“Better than any human man?”
“Yes,” you answer, although you can tell she doesn't believe it. 
“Do you love him?” She asks. “Does he love you?”
“I suppose so.” You say. “As much as he is capable of loving something.”
“But do you love him?” She asks again.
“As much as I am capable of doing so, yes.” You answer.
It is not the answer she wants, but the one that is the truth. With her hands folded in her lap, she nods solemnly.
That following night you leave your village not as a human, but as a curse. 
Enough time would pass that the story of a young sacrifice would be forgotten by its people; what would remain, is a tale of a love so infamous that it survived centuries.
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wipbigbang · 1 month
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2024 WIP Big Bang Schedule & FAQ!
Schedule
All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.
Sign-ups Begin- April 15th Sign-ups Close- May 21st Check In #1- May 22nd Check In #2- June 15th Snippets Due- July 1st Art Claims Begin- July 17th Check In #3- July 22nd Check In #4- August 6th Rough Drafts Due- August 15th Posting Claims Begin- August 23rd Posting Claims Ends- September 1st Final Drafts/Art Due- September 7th Posting Starts- September 8th
FAQ
What is the WIP Big Bang? Good question! This is a Big Bang with one goal in mind: to clean out your fanfic drafts folder. These are stories that were unfinished for whatever reason, that authors returned to and completed, and the art that goes with them!
Do I need a Livejournal/Dreamwidth/AO3/etc. account to participate? No! You don’t have to have an account on anything to participate, though you will need to have somewhere to post your finished work. Having one or more accounts will help for you to follow what is going on with the bang (we crosspost to Dreamwidth and Tumblr and heavily use our Discord server at the moment), but they are not required to participate. You can always leave comments anonymously or with an opensource ID.
How many fics can we sign up for? We absolutely don’t mind multiple sign-ups. I know one year someone submitted 50 fics to finish, and got at least half of them done. We just ask that when you sign up with more than one fic you give each fic a unique user ID (please do not use the same ID for all your fics...it’s important to have different IDs for the check-ins).
Will I get emails about the bang? We do send out some emails, mostly for snippets and art claims and to ensure communication between authors and artists, but please do NOT rely on getting an email to remind you of due dates. We currently do not keep an updated email list of participants, so we only send individual emails as needed rather than mass emails.
However, email is the fastest way to communicate with the mods. If you have any questions or are having trouble communicating with your artist/author, please do email us! We will do our best to respond quickly.
What do you mean by minimum word count to enter? This is a WIP Big Bang, therefore we ask you to have at least 500 words of your story drafted when you enter.
Can an outline count towards those first 500 words that are needed at sign up? We have admitted work on an outline before so yes, if your outline is fleshed out enough to cover a 7,500 word+ fic, we’ll allow it.
Are multi-chapter fics allowed? Yes, multi-chapter fics are allowed and even more so encouraged if your fic is lengthy.
What about fics that are already posted on ao3 in part? Do those qualify for the bang? It's okay if you have posted a few chapters of your fic already (you never know when the muse deserts you, after all), we just require you to refrain from posting more until posting begins here. All we ask is that you not post any public updates to the fic until September 1st (or August 1st with the mod’s okay). We don’t want you to lose kudos and comments so don’t worry about pulling the fic down, just hold off on updates for now.
Is there a minimum word count? 7,500 words for each finished fic, but the sky's the limit, right?
I see that the fic minimum is 7500 words and that published WIPs are acceptable - but what if the WIP I’m considering is already more than 7500 words? Is the expectation to add an additional 7500 to it? No. You can add as much or as little as you need to finish the story, though we do expect at least 1,000 or so new words if your WIP already meets the word count.
What happens if an author finishes the fic they signed up with but it’s less than 7,500 words? The intent was to go over the minimum but once they got into it the story was shorter than they thought and stretching it out would make it less good. Do they have to drop out at that point? By all means, we want your stories to feel as natural as possible, and if it’s under 7,500 words you may have two options:
1 - Drop the fic for the main BB event, post it now, and wait to post it to our AO3 collection in February when we run our International Fanworks Day celebration of finishing fics that are less than 7,500 words when finished. There’s no art for the fic, but bragging rights are posted to the communities for a week.
2 - If there are enough fics that fit that category, we can do a special day of posting the fics, but you’ll have to forgo art for the fic. I, as a mod, would probably pick November 30th for the posting day, as it’s the last day of posting for the bang and I don’t think anyone will mind more than one fic that day. You can post bragging rights to the community and share the fic with everyone.
Is there anything not allowed? As long as you wrote it and you want to finish it, you're welcome to participate. RPS/RPF is fine. Incest pairings are fine. Things like that I know have been hinted at in questions asked and as long as you tag for them, we’ll allow it. Also, canon settings with mostly OCs is allowed. We just ask that it be tagged properly with any content warnings you would deem fit and be given the appropriate rating for the level of sex/violence there is in the fic. Just bear in mind that while original work is allowed you may not get art for it.
I have a fic I wrote a few years ago, but only the first couple chapters are posted on AO3 because I was never happy with the rest of it and knew it needed major revision. Is that something I could use for WIP Big Bang? The entire fic has been posted, but only on one platform, and it would be rewritten for AO3 and WIPBB. I think revising a fic for posting would work, as long as you have at least 500 words done, will have 7,500 words at a minimum when it’s done, and are planning to add more to the fic. Simply rewriting what you have would be a gray area, but if you’re going to take stuff out and add new scenes, either in the old scenes place or on its own, you should be fine.
What's the etiquette around OC-centric stories? Ones that are set in a well known fandom and use several characters, but still lean a lot on original characters? Are they discouraged, or fine? Based on my own personal experience making art for a story that had a heavy OC presence, it’s not something we discourage at all, but be forewarned when it comes to the art accompanying your fic your artist may not be able to incorporate the OCs into your art. Not everyone makes art of a hand-drawn or digitally drawn nature, so it helps if you have people for face claims ahead of art submissions, and you and your artist communicate regularly. You can also end up with art not featuring the OCs at all, just the canon characters, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Your other options are to bring in an artist you trust with your vision of your OC or to make your own art (we do allow that, we just need to be told during the check-in before art that you’re bringing in your own artist if you go that route, or that you’re doing your own art…there will not be a need to sign up in the artist’s sign up, however), or to opt-out of art entirely. So there’s plenty of options to call on when it comes time for art.
What are 'check-ins’? These are a way for us to see what you've been up to and for you to make sure you're still on track. It will give you a little nudge/reminder if you need it, but they are not compulsory. Basically a form is posted that you fill out with your user ID (unique for each fic) and a checkbox to let us know you’re still participating, plus a section for any notes for the mods.
How are the check in IDs used? They are solely for the mods organizational purposes. Each ID being for a separate story allows us to keep all the information you submit during check-ins and for snippets in one line on our spreadsheet. You don’t have to share your check in IDs with anyone else if you don’t want to.
How much progress should authors be making between each checkpoint? (Percentage-wise from our estimated total wc, I guess?) Ideally, with each check-in, you should be at least 25% closer to finishing. The end word count only really matters in that the fic needs to be at least 7,500 words when done, so it’s more your progress towards finishing that should be measured, not so much the word count.
What are the snippets requirements? In order to allow the artists to make art for the story they claimed, we require you to supply three snippets from your fic, between 500 – 1500 words each. The snippets will be sent to the artist after they have claimed your story. They're to help the artist match your story for artwork the best way he or she possibly can. It’s helpful to choose scenes or parts of scenes that you feel best represent your fic, but don’t feel like they have to be perfect to be submitted. Along with the snippets, we will send your artist the basic fic info and your email, so the two of you can collaborate more if you would both like.
What are the rough drafts requirements? For the rough drafts, stories should be at least 80% complete. You will not have to turn them in to us, just assure us that you are at that point. Anything less is at the discretion of the mods and those authors should speak to one of the mods asap.
What is, and do I need, a beta? A beta is basically a person who goes over your work to make sure that there are no spelling/grammatical errors and they can even be of assistance in helping you with story lines, etc. It is highly recommended that a beta looks over your work before posting. If you are having trouble finding a beta, try this post.
Where can I post my fic/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the day of the posting. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.
What does posting look like? Do we have to post the whole thing on the day, or can we stretch it out between when posting starts and our date? I’ve had a few longfics get killed by big bangs forcing posting to happen on a given day, and would prefer to avoid that if possible. For most fics, posting to AO3/FF.net/other places will be allowed to start in September and you can stretch it out as many posts as you want as long as the complete fic is up by your posting date (and posting dates go from September 8th to November 15th with two weeks for emergency posting). However, you can send us an ask/e-mail about posting as early as August if you have an extremely long fic/something with a long posting schedule. Mostly what we want is the fic to be completely up on the website of your choice by your posting date, and I know some people don’t want to overwhelm their readers. So we want to work with writers to give them ample time to post the story up to their posting date.
Now, as for posting to the communities, you get to choose which day your link to the story and bragging rights are posted, and as I said, we have a range of dates from September 8th to November 15th with two to three stories posting a day. If for some reason you miss your posting date, you have until November 30th to post to the community, during the two weeks of emergency posting, with a possible extension after that due to the amount of participants needing to post later. So hopefully there should be plenty of time to get a longfic up and posted to the website of your choice and our BB.
Will the three snippets per story we have to send in be the ones we want the artist to make art for? Or can it just be random snippets and then later the artist and I can check together to see which scenes would work best for art? So ideally, you and the artist will be communicating once you’re each sent each other’s contact information, and you’ll give your artist a chance to read all that you’ve written at that point. That’s what happens in most cases. If your fic gets picked by an artist and they don’t work with you, then the snippets you sent will be what the artwork will be based on. It’s a good idea to know that, while most of the time the artists work closely with the authors, there are a few exceptions to that.
How do I know when to post? Posting will be tiered; you'll each get your own posting date that you and your artist will decide on together. There will probably be four fics, plus art, posting per day between September 8th and November 30th. The post with date claims will go up on August 23rd and you'll have to choose your date by September 1st.
Posting of chapters on AO3 or your own blog (or wherever you usually post) generally starts September 1st, but you can post earlier (as early as August 1st) if you let us know you have a long story. However, posting has to be finished by your chosen posting date to the comm. One of the things we're hoping to do with the posted dates is to give everybody on the comm a little bragging time in the spotlight. You know, "this story was incomplete for this long, but I finished this sucker." If you don't have time to post your bragging rights to the communities on your chosen posting date, you can queue up a post ahead of time and we can post it on the date you picked or you can email us your bragging rights and we can post by proxy for you. Either way works for us. Art will be due on the chosen posting date to the comm.
What am I posting to the Livejournal/Dreamwidth/Tumblr community if I’m posting the fic elsewhere? You’ll be posting what we call bragging rights. It’s a small form you fill out and post to the community with a link to your fic (we’ll enable moderated posting to the Tumblr, Livejournal and Dreamwidth communities for members on August 8th). We will post a template for posting artwork and stories to the comm closer to the posting date.
Is there a minimum/maximum requirement for my art? There is no strict minimum, but we do ask artists to remember that the authors are writing a minimum of 7,500 words and your artwork should reflect that. You can do anything you like, including banners, wallpapers, icons, mixes, vids, gif sets, picspams, etc. Suggested guidelines for art are 500x500px (or equivalent of smaller pieces like banner + spacers, cover + icons, etc.) for traditional art, digital art, and manips; 2 minutes for vids; 10 songs + cover art for mixes; and 6 images for gif sets and picspams. We also ask that when you are in contact with the author, you work with them to see if there is anything specific they would like (i.e. a wallpaper, book cover, etc.). The art is your work, but having ideas doesn't hurt!
What are 'art claims'? The claims are when anonymous summaries of the story go up for artists to choose from. Artists sign-ups and art claims are the same thing; we use one form for both things, and that way the authors don’t have to sign up for an event they may not end up participating in. It is based on a 'first come, first served' basis and artists may choose up to three potential stories (in case their first choice is unavailable). If there are more stories than artists, there will be a second round of claims wherein artists may choose a second story to work with. And on until all stories are claimed for art.
If a fic up for claiming is rated explicit (R, NC-17, etc.), please only claim the story if you are over 18 years of age. Some authors may be uncomfortable working with underage artists on explicit works. We do not verify ages in any way for the bang, so this is solely on the honor system.
What do I do if I have problems or concerns about my author/artist? Sometimes authors and artists do not get along and this may cause problems with working together. If this happens to be the case with you, please email the mods and we will try to do what we can so that everyone has a chance to have fun at WIP Big Bang!
If you have not heard from your author/artist in some time after trying to contact them, you can reach out to us via email and we will try to get in touch with them for you.
Can I get an extension? Community extensions may be given in the event that the majority of the authors/artists need one. They may also be given individually under certain circumstances, but this must be discussed with the mods and will only be a short extension for posting. If you are certain that you won’t be able to finish your story in time, please let us know by July 13th.
Can I swap out a fic if my muse abandons it again? When you sign up, you give us the information on the potential fic(s) you want to write. If, say, one fic isn’t working but one you didn’t sign up for is, you can switch them out while letting the mods know if you need to change a user ID you used. It is absolutely okay to switch fics all the way up until snippets are due. By then, we hope you’ll have however many fics you plan on doing to at least 80% completion since rough drafts are due not much later. Just drop an email to the mods at [email protected] with the new information (title, fandom, etc) and if you want a new sign in ID or plan to use the same one for the fic you’re replacing it with.
Can I drop out? We have high hopes that everybody who signs up can actually finish the round and share in the joy of the reveal with us, but real life can unfortunately get in the way and we completely understand! If you feel like you just cannot finish in time and no amount of assistance from us can help you, just let us know by August 13th (if at all possible).
Is it possible to be banned? We do have a banned users list. We hope to use this to encourage participants who are having issues to communicate with the mods. We want to help you! The way the ban works is that participants, either authors and artists, will be banned for dropping out without notifying a mod. This means that anyone who has not posted or talked to a mod by the time the posting period ends will be banned. Dropping out is not in and of itself a banning offense, so please do not panic if you have to drop out! We understand that there are many reasons you may need to drop, and we want to work with you.
Bans will last one round or until the issue is resolved, whichever comes first. To resolve a ban, authors will have to finish and post the story they signed up with and artists will have to finish and post the art for the story they claimed. Three bans will result in a permanent ban from the bang.
Are we allowed to participate without joining the Discord? Absolutely! The Discord server is optional, as just another way to interact with your fellow writers and get updates on important dates. It’s not mandatory you join, however.
I was just wondering if there’s any way to enter the bang anonymously? Like would it be okay to put our work in an anonymous collection on ao3 or something? Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way for that to work. The collection that we use is moderated but it’s not anonymous, and there are the bragging posts that you post on your posting day, which you would have your username on whichever platform you use.
I was just wondering whether I'm sworn to secrecy on which fics I'll be finishing up, or if I can shout it out to the world? No one is sworn to secrecy once they’ve signed up (aside from posting new parts to fic that’s already up somewhere…we ask that you refrain from doing that until at least July 1st)! We will be running Word Wars, where you can add more to a fic in a certain amount of time, and Whine Bars, where you can complain or ask for help or whatever else you feel like talking about when it comes to struggling with a fic, all after sign-ups end on a weekly basis, plus there’s the Discord server for chatting with your fellow authors and artists.
I have a question/concern that’s not mentioned here. If you need help, you can always contact a mod and we will do our best to make sure that you get your story/art finished. The best and fastest method of contact is through our email, [email protected].
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verinarin · 4 months
Text
Winner takes all ! and he wins you
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the awaited part 3 is here, thank you all for the support means a lot seeing you guys like and reblog this series ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
i’m pretty attached to this series so tell me if you guys want little blurbs or an epilogue about Veritas and his prize (you ♡)
Part 1 - Part 2
support me on ko-fi╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
There’s something so exciting about the fact that anything and everything could go wrong but somehow the endless possibilities leave you wanting, that burst of adrenaline you love so much is here right before your eyes
The red velvet table accessorised by casino chips of different colours, the pleasing sound of cards being shuffled, oh nothing could get you out of this sense of joy, except there is this certain Doctor who stood behind you, leaning close beside your ear
“Can’t you just sit on the couch behind me ?, you’re distracting me here,” you mutter as you feel his warm breath fanning your already hot neck
You swear you could feel his lips turned into a smirk as he answers you, “The game has not started yet, so I still have some time to guide you,” his stern voice now turns calm and soothing, perhaps to ease your mind a little
But how could you be more at ease when you’re both so close to each other !, one of his hands rests on the table while the other holds your chair. How will you focus on the game when the sight in front of you is his toned forearm decorated beautifully with veins, not to mention his hand beautifully sculpted adorned with his signature doctoral ring
Oh no !, you actually might lose if he spends any more time behind you. You suddenly snap back into reality when the casino owner, Mr. Cliff seat on the chair before you, accompanied by that eerie smile
“Well then have you drafted the contract ?,” he asks as he folds his arm and rests his weight back towards a chair that’s befitting for a king
Ratio summons the hologram contract and slides it across the table, “Feel free to read through the 57 pages of the contract to revise our agreement before signing it,” he states in a cold manner
Okay, now you feel sceptical over this contract, because usually you only need at least one page or perhaps five pages maximum. First what the hell did he put on those pages, second how the hell he could write that contract in approximately 30 minutes ?!?
“You put some bullshit terms in that contract didn’t you ?,” you whisper to Ratio while watching Mr. Cliff thoroughly skim through the pages he provided him with
“If you know the truth it’ll make you an accomplice so I can’t disclose anything for now,” he teases, ruffling your hair before walking towards Mr. Cliff to assist him in ‘understanding’ the contents of the contract
You groan as you try to brush through your now messy hair, you finish grooming yourself at the same time Mr. Cliff signs the contract, “Sign your name sweetheart,” he loudly chuckles as he slides back the hologram
“Don’t mind if I do,” you cheekily reply as you swiftly sign your name, once your name is on the contract the hologram automatically dissipates into thin air, which means that it’s already been approved and signed by the higher-ups
Ratio walks back towards your side of the table with a huge grin, oh he clearly puts insurance for you in that contract, well you appreciate his thoughtfulness but you won’t need it !
“Well then shall we begin sir ?,” you roll your sleeves as you await Mr Cliff’s response, with Ratio standing by your side you feel more motivated than before, It’s time to impress that stern partner of yours
“Do you always need your dog on a leash beside you ?” Mr Cliff scoffs as he eyes Ratio up and down, the fact that he calls your supervisor your dog on a leash turns you red and you slowly turn your head up to see ‘your dog’s’ face
Oh Aeons above please don’t let Ratio kills this man-
Ratio’s eyes squint as his lips twitch in disgust, before he can open his mouth and blow this whole deal out the window you quickly stand up from your seat to calm him down “Ratio, just sit back at the couch okay ?,” you practically beg, your voice laced with honey and desperation
Ratio merely scoffs before turning around and seat on the couch behind you, even though he’s quite annoyed at Mr Cliff, he knows that that foul man is insecure about himself, it’s evident that he’s actually jealous of Ratio and that comes naturally to a person with both unparalleled beauty and intelligence
You’re quick to focus back on the game at hand, you’re playing poker naturally and of course, you’re confident in your ability to win, you’re not only lucky but also cunning that’s the fruit of losing countless bets with Aventurine, you have a 95% chance of winning while playing with others but with Aventurine….
You still don’t know how the hell he gets that good, but the apprentice would never try to dethrone their master of course, in which case you just study the little things Aventurine does and explicitly teach you
As you get lost in nostalgia the dealer starts to shuffle the deck, it seems that he used a new card which makes it all the more interesting, it’s easier for you to predict your card and your opponents' card, well it is true you have a stroke of benevolent luck but luck doesn’t always cut it, so you turn into your memory and your card counting skills, you could get ban from casinos if they knew you can count cards
Well Mr Cliff seems to look down upon you, it’s in his right to do so since he’s one of the top players on Penacony, well you on the other hand are an informal apprentice of one of the best gamblers in the entire galaxy, you’re confident that Mr Cliff would quiver in fear if you spoke Aventurine’s name
“You seem awfully confident little lady,” Mr Cliff snickers as the dealer hands your cards, well you were confident before but now you’re well past that, Ace of Hearts and King of Hearts, your luck never ceases to surprise, Ratio took notice in your behaviour
You lean back towards your chair, your legs crossed. At that point he knew that you were confident with your hand, “Well let’s just say I’m having a good day today,” you smile
Mr Cliff also smiles, he starts off the game by betting his chips quite high, if you’re not mistaken this could indicate that he also has a good hand but you’re confident that is not as good as yours, so you raise the bet, not wanting to lose in the game of wits
“Well you’re raising quite fast sweetheart, you sure you wanna do that ?,” he chuckles, this man has great confidence in his cards huh ?, you know very well he’s trying to get under your skin, but to be frank only Aventurine manage to do so by his sarcastic comments
“What ?, you scared of me ~” you laugh, which seems to rile him up judging by how he loosens his tie. You swear you could hear Ratio curse behind you, he should loosen up a little since you’re practically going to win this
He scoffs as he asks the dealer to quickly reveal the three cards in the middle of the table, as the cards reveal itself, your face turns sour, well your lips do pout while the inside of your mind you rejoice, but you can’t show what to Mr Cliff. “What’s wrong little girl?” Mr Cliff asks his voice laced with faux empathy
“Nothing’s wrong,” you reply shortly, this you stage your set and you’re confident that Mr Cliff would have a straight flush on his hands, but what you don’t know is Ratio is clenching his fist tight behind you, he seems to believe your act
The game continues until it is time to place your final bet, Mr Cliff goes all in to end it all and of course now is the time for you to change your pitiful act, with a huge grin you push all of your chips to the middle of the table, “All in !” Mr Cliff is shocked by your sudden confidence, it’s like your whole being changed from hunching your back towards now looking down on him, your eyes glint mischievously
“Hah! prideful brat,” he scoffs angrily as he throws his card to the table to reveal a straight flush, he stands up from the table and cups your cheeks, “You’re mine now,”
Before you can reveal your hand Ratio stands and reaches for Mr Cliff’s hand pulling it swiftly to his back and pushing him down to the table, you’re shocked with the sudden move but take this to your advantage
You lean down to whisper to Mr Cliff’s ears, “I’m afraid your casino is mine,” you throw your card at his face, revealing a royal flush
Mr Cliff lost you and his casino and of course, you win his casino and unbeknownst to you, you also win Ratio’s heart. “W-what !, you’re fucking cheating that’s why this bastard is ughh!,” Before continuing his words ratio pushes Mr Cliff’s head to the table, “Please refrain from uttering foolish accusations or else-” Okay Ratio might have a knack for belittling others verbally but he never actually smack someone’s head ?!?
Somehow the sight of his hair draping down, covering the menacing glow in his eyes with his teeth gritted and his arms fully in display showcasing the strength he rarely used, that sight yes you need to take a picture-
You quickly grab your phone to snap a picture, “What the fuck?!?,” Mr Cliffs yells which is replied to by Ratio twisting his hand, is it bad that you find the sight hot ?, “I know I look completely out of character but really ? Taking a picture of me, it seems that you want to immortalised the look on my face when I’m jealous,” he sighs as he summons the contract with his free hand
“Ahahaha, now I believe we have a business to sort out,” you try to deflect the conversation by quickly taking the holo-contract and signing your name again, but Mr Cliff still doesn’t want to sign forcing Ratio to drag his fingers and press it on the screen to print out his thumbprints, “It was nice having business with you,” you smile as you pat Mr Cliff’s head that’s currently forced down towards the table because of Ratio
Without much thought you quickly step outside of the private room to call cooperate about the success leaving Ratio alone with Mr Cliff, Ratio leans down pressing his hand on Mr Cliff’s back before whispering, “If I see your pathetic self dare to even gaze upon her I will do just more than restraining you if you plan to harm her just know that I could easily break this feeble neck of yours or perhaps I should do so to prevent you from having the mere thought-“
“NO NO NO! I SWEAR ON MY LIFE THAT I WILL NOT HARM OR EVEN LOOK AT HER,” Mr Cliff yells as he struggles to set himself free, Ratio simply nods before smashing his head on the table, effectively knocking him out
“Hmm how’s Mr Cliff ?” you ask Ratio as he closes the door and walks towards you, “He’s still dealing with his loss but don’t worry he’s fine,” he curtly replies, he looks at your face reading your overjoyed expression
“No scolding today ?,” you lightly chuckle noticing that he’s uncannily silent, he just scoffs as he ruffles your hair it seems that he’s thoroughly impressed, “No scolding just admiration, perhaps I should reward you hmm ?,” he smiles as he yet again caged you with his arms as you rest your back on the wall
“W-what kind of reward ?,” you whisper, your breath tickles his neck as he leans closer towards your ear grazing the skin with his lips as he travels further down towards the neck, “Would a kiss be sufficient ?, for now at least,” he whispers against your neck, the sensation sends tingles through your body
“T-that would be appreciated,” you reply, resting your hand on his broad chest, he merely smiles before looking back towards your face, cupping your cheek before leaning in for a gentle kiss
“How delectable,”
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number1mingyustan · 5 months
Text
-Cuffing Season-
Your Call
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boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: established relationship, cursing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation (m+f), virtual sex, size kink, fingering (f.)
Summary: Even a thousand miles away you still have the same effects on him
Word Count: 1.8k
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(a/n: i'm baaaack!! im so sorry for going MIA I was busy with school and now that I'm on break I've had literally no motivation to write but I've got a few more drafts I'm working on so expect me to be more active!)
The hotel door swings open and Mingyu walks through it, hand already pulling at the navy blue tie draped around his neck.
He undoes it with one hand before dropping it onto the carpeted hotel floor. He lets out a sigh of pure exhaustion and leans his back against the wall as his briefcase meets the floor.
He’s been in meetings all day and tired can’t even describe what he’s feeling right now. He’s away from you in Tokyo on a business trip and he’s miserable. His days prior to this were light, a meeting here and there and a couple of conventions. But today?
Back-to-back meetings with potential investors and clients have worn him out. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to call you yet today.
For the two weeks, he’s called you at least three times and you’ve texted back and forth every day. Now it’s nearing 1am and he hasn’t spoken to you at all.
He strips himself down to his boxers and lays down on top of the bed. He scrambles for his phone and immediately dials your number.
You pick up on the first ring. “Gyu?”
“Hi baby,” He rasps.
"Was beginning to think you forgot about me," you pout.
"Never, I was just swamped. I knew it was gonna be a heavy day, but I had literally no time to myself. I just now got back to the hotel," he sighs.
"You work so hard babe," You say. "I'm proud of you, but take it easy."
He nods. "It'll only be this bad for the next few days. I think it'll be worth it though, seems like a lot of good can come out of this for the company."
You shift on the bed, making yourself more comfortable as you lie down. "That's good Gyu, I would hope so."
The call goes silent for a few moments. You can hear each other breathing lightly into the phone as you lay in comfortable silence.
"I really miss you," Mingyu says, finally breaking the silence.
"I know, I miss you too." You sigh. "I've been miserable without you. I'm so lonely here, we should've gotten like a cat or something."
Mingyu lets out a breathy chuckle. "Noted. It'll be the first thing I do when I come home next week."
"Ugh," You groan dramatically. "Don't remind me I have to wait a whole week to see you again."
You can practically hear him smiling into the phone. "A week can go by fast, don't worry. I'll be home in no time."
"Good," You smile. "Bed's cold without you here."
"Must be," He yawns.
"Yeah Gyu, I hate it. Need you here now," Your voice is just above a whisper.
"What are you wearing?" He asks.
"You want me to tell you or show you?" You ask.
"Fuck," he whispers. "Show me."
Before he can even finish his thought, his phone is already ringing with an incoming Facetime call. He presses on the green button and sees you adjusting the camera.
Your phone is leaning against something to hold it up and you're sitting crisis cross applesauce on the bed in front of him. "Hi Gyu."
"Hi pretty girl," He smirks.
He rises to his feet, holding his phone in hand as he makes his way over to the desk in his room. He sits down, angling the camera so you can see him.
"Really missed you today," You tell him.
"Missed you too," He licks his lips. "You wearing my shirt?"
You nod. "Yeah. Still smells like you and everything."
You pick up the phone, angling it down so he can see the black and white striped button-up you have on. It fits you big, coming down mid-thigh.
He rasps. "Looks good on you baby."
"It does, doesn't it?" You smirk. "Think it might look better off though, right?"
Suddenly Mingyu isn't sleepy anymore.
"Shit baby, don't do this to me. You know I'm going crazy cuz I can't touch you," He groans, tilting his head back.
"This is the next best thing, no?" You lick your lips, allowing your hand to undo the first button.
"Damn right, it is," He agrees, slipping his hand into his boxers. To no one's surprise, he's already sprouting a semi at the mere thought of having phone sex with you.
It was only a matter of time before this happened anyway. You and Mingyu would rarely go this long without being intimate with one another.
"You didn't seriously call me in nothing but your underwear and expect me not to want you Gyu," You breathe out.
"Didn't do it on purpose sweetheart," He grins.
You've already undone half the buttons of his shirt. He can see your bra peaking through the open material. His cock twitches in anticipation.
He watches like a hawk as you slide the shirt off your shoulders and let it fall off your body entirely. "Shit," he whispers.
You're kneeling in front of the camera in nothing but your bra and underwear. It's a matching lavender set that he bought you a while back.
His eyes are glued to his screen as he watches you. You play with your bra straps, sliding them off your shoulders slowly to expose your breasts to him. He lets out a low groan and feels his cock harden more in his boxers.
He's suddenly feeling suffocated by the material on his hips. He sits up, sliding his underwear off and exposing his leaking cock. He lets out a breath of relief as he wraps his hand around his length.
He swipes his thumb across the tip, using the bit of precum to lubricate his cock. He licks his lips slowly, watching you as you slide your soaked underwear off your body.
"You're so big," you whisper. You're practically drooling at the sight of his cock.
He spits on his hand and starts pumping himself slowly. "Touch yourself f'r me."
You sit back on the bed and slide your hand down between your thighs. He watches as you spread your legs, revealing just how soaked you were for him.
You let out a shaky breath as your finger circles your clit.
"Need you so bad Gyu," You whine.
'i'm here baby-fuck," he groans.
He pumps his length faster, gliding his hand along his hard cock as he watches you touch yourself. He strokes himself, swiping his hand across the sensitive tip every time he pumps himself.
"Inside me.. need you inside me," You whimper. You slip two fingers into yourself slowly. You spread your legs wider to give him a better look. You push your fingers deeper, curling your digits against your inner walls.
"Soon baby, 'm all yours." He breathes out.
"You're so big Gyu, want you to fuck me so bad-ah," You pump your fingers deeper inside of yourself, desperately trying to coax yourself toward an orgasm.
"F-fuck y/n... keep talking," He drops his head back and groans. His muscles are bulging and his grip on his cock is tightening. "Missed your voice."
Even through the low quality of your phone camera, Mingyu was still in awe of you. His eyes were hyperfixated on the way your fingers disappear deep inside of you. His hips jerk up into his fist, warm blood pumping through his veins and making his limbs grow hot with arousal.
You lean back, fingers tightening around his bedsheets clumped in your hand as you push your hips into your hand. "Hah- my fingers are hardly big enough. Need your cock baby–" You whine.
You curl your fingers the same way he does when he touches you, pressing your fingertips against your inner walls. The sensation has your toes curling with a familiar feeling building up inside of you.
His dick twitches in his hand. Fuck, he's so reactive when it comes to you. No one can make him feel the way you do. He lets out a low groan, squeezing the head of his cock to stop himself from cumming when he hears you.
You continue pushing your hips into your hand with erratic movements. You look at your screen, watching your boyfriend strokes his cock. You watch the way his large hand glide along the length of his cock.
"Gyu–fuck, I'm cumming," You warn him.
Mingyu stops holding back the second the words pass your lips. He speeds up his hand, loosening his grip every so slightly. You cum together, bodies shuddering with sloppy movements as you drive yourselves into a state of euphoric pleasure.
He fights to keep his eyes open. They remain half lidded as he refuses to rip his eyes way from the scene before him. He's fixaed on the way your fingers dip into your pussy, coating them with more of your slick arousal as your body spasms and jerks.
He can feel the way his load spills all over his hand and onto his lower abs, but he can't take his eyes off of you. He missed being able to see you fall apart. It's one of his favorite views. Even a thousand miles away, he was still going to see it for himself.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down. You draw your slick fingers out of your hole slowly, licking your lips as you tap back into all of your senses.
He blinks slowly as he comes down from his high. He grabs a tissue from the desk, cleaning up the mess on his skin. He discards it and slouches against the chair.
"Can't believe we just did that," He lets out a breathy chuckle.
"Thought it would've happened sooner. Been expecting it since your first night away," You smirk.
Mingyu yawns and decides to call it a night. He grabs his phone, plugging it into the charger and pulling his boxers back up onto his waist.
"Sleepy?" You ask.
"Exhausted," He turns off the lights and climbs under the hotel bedsheets. "I feel a lot better though."
"Good," You say.
You mirror his actions, redressing yourself, turning off the lights, and plugging your phone into the charger before climbing under the bedsheets. You're yawning too, snuggling in the sheets with your boyfriend on the phone.
The call goes quiet and it doesn't take long before both of you are fast asleep.
Mingyu can't wait to go back home and sleep next to you properly. For now, FaceTime calls will have to do. But once he can have you in his arms again, his home will feel complete again.
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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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