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sophsbookstore · 1 month

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Sims Stream

Lando Norris x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word Count: 1,354

“So, what do you want to do today?” a shirtless Lando said, coming up and hugging me from behind as I make us breakfast.

I turn around, giving him a quick yet passionate kiss before turning back around, just finishing preparing a fruit salad for the both of us, his head nessling between mine and my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“Your day off has barely started and you're already bored huh?” I laugh, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“I already trained, did simulator practice, took a nap, and now I want to hang out with you my love.” He squeezes me tighter as I nestle into him.

“Well I was going to stream sims today.” I make my final cut, mixing all the fruit together before putting some in a nearby bowl and handing it to Lando. He gives me a thank you, before turning to lean against the kitchen counter, now facing me.

“I could join you.” he states, scarfing down the fruit, taking a few pieces of fruit from my bowl as well.

“We cant join games” I frown, wishing he could stream with me today.

“I know, you always watch me play video games, I wanna watch you play something you really like doing” he smiles, placing both his and my empty bowls in the sink, wrapping up the leftovers and placing them in the fridge.

I take his hand in mine, leading him to my office/game room. I pull up a chair for him, placing a pillow on the seat as well as the back of the back of the chair for comfort. As I get settled, He takes the armrest of my chair, pulling it closer to him. I drape a blanket over both our legs and start the stream, the sims loading screen shining bright in the backlit room.

As we start talking both to one another and the stream chat, more and more people start joining, freaking out at the sight of Lando and I streaming together for the first time. Chat being so used to just hearing Lando, and never seeing him. Lando starts talking to chat, telling them how excited he is to play with me.

Soon the game fully loads, I choose to start a new game, not wanting to ruin any of the storylines I have going with my other sims lore. “Why don't you make us? We can live out our lives through the sims” Lando asks. Chat, all Lando fans, loving his idea and agreeing immediately.

Embarrassed, I go to my library and select the premade Lando I had made just a few months back on another stream. “Already did.” I blush with embarrassment, he turns to me with a big grin on his face, getting closer to the monitor screen to observe his custom made sim.

“You did so good love, thank you for making me look so handsome” he says leaning closer to me, giving me a forehead kiss. As he gets closer, he moves his hand from his lap to start squeezing my thigh. I lean into his body, moving the armrest out of the way, holding his arm that's squeezing my leg. Chat absolutely loses it at the interaction, spamming mom and dad in the chat.

Once we make some adjustments to our sims outfits we start the game, going into a random starter house, customizing the interior to our liking with what little funds we have, and finding jobs for our respective sims. “Can I be an F1 driver here?” he questions.

“No, but you can be an athlete” he makes a sad face, not getting what he wanted. “The good thing is, there's a lot of job options in the game” this perks him up. I continue to scroll though the list, showing and describing all the jobs to Lando.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT I CAN BE A SECRET AGENT” he practically screams. “Why didn't you tell me, that's way cooler.”

Lando picks the job of secret agent, I settle with the streamer career, wanting my sim to be as accurate as possible.

“Can you fuck in the sims?” Lanod says out of nowhere. I playfully smack him on the shoulder.

“Lando there's kids watching, also our sims aren't even dating yet, they are just roommates.”

“How come sim Lando hasn't asked out sim Y/N yet?”

“Maybe he's too scared, sim Y/N is way too hot for sim Lando” I shrug, Lando giving me a side eye. “Dont side eye me, I said what I said, chat did I lie?” chat clearly siding with me.

“Tell sim Lando to ask out sim Y/N, we have to date her before anyone else tries to steal my girl” Blushing, I click on my sim, making Lando's in game alter ego flirt with her.

Soon, my sim walks away from Lando's, moving away to talk to another nearby towns person. Lando watches in disbelief as my sim, against my control, starts talking to another man. “WHAT THE HELL” he stares at the screen, sitting up a little more. Chat going absolutely insane, clipping the moment to probably use for another couples compilation.

“I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING, SHE DID THAT ALL ON HER OWN” I argued back. Lando takes the controls, choosing my character and moving her away from the random sim man, to go back to talking to him.

“How do I kill someone in the sims?” he questions, going to the settings and looking around for a kill button.

“You can't, I dont have the mod.” I laugh, holding my stomach with laughter, pulling him away from the screen, to go back to cuddling me.

“Can we download it? I want him dead, he tried to take my girl” lando pouts.

We continued the game, Lando and I switching off the controls whenever we wanted our charters to do something. Soon enough, Sim Lando and Sim Y/N start dating. Lando and I both chanted “kiss, kiss, kiss” when they shared their first kiss with one another.

“Does this mean that we can fuck now” Lando turns to me waiting for my approval.

I sigh, a smile forming on my lips. “Yes lando, they can now.” he cheers, taking the mouse and clicking on the bed, happily selecting the woohoo button.

I take the mouse back from him, moving the game to show a different room. “I don't want to show it on stream, it's an invasion of privacy '' I look at him sternly, he silently nods in agreement.

We wait a couple more seconds, talking to chat about anything that comes to mind until finally seeing the notification that they are done. Lando grabs the mouse before I can, clicking on my sims and taking her to the bathroom. “Lando, what are you doing?” I ask confused.

“I wanna see if Sim Y/N is pregnant.”

“LANDO WHAT!” I shout taking the mouse back from him instantly. We’re both waiting anxiously (for different reasons) for the notification of sim Y/N’s status. I let out a sigh of relief when she's not.

Lando slumps back in his chair. “Lando what were you thinking? They've only been dating for a day! It's far too soon for them to have a baby! They barely have any money, no space, do you need me to go on?” I lecture him, moving the controls slightly away from him so he cant make anymore rash decisions.

“I just wanted to see what a little us would look like” he said sadly, it breaks my heart, chat spamming awww’s in the chat. “I know it's too soon, I just got excited.”

“Lando it's ok, how about the next stream, we MAYBE have them try?” this perks him up.

“Really! You mean it? Everyone spam baby names in the chat, we’ll use the best one.'' Lando starts talking to the chat about how excited he is for the next stream, and virtual fatherhood.

As I watch Lando go on and on about this potential sim baby, I can't help but get excited for the day it happens in real life.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #Lando Norris x streamer!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x twitch!reader #lando norris one shot

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coxblogs · 11 days

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gymleggings · 1 year

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clothingmanufacturer · 1 year

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poptheweasel · 1 month

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Turkish Delight

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Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.

He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.

And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.

Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.

That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.

His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.

Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.

“Hey, you.”

Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.

Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.

“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.

“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?

“Like what you see?”

Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.

The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.

After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.

Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.

Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.

The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.

Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.

Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.

After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.

Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.

Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.

This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.

The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.

Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.

Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.

The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.

The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.

Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.

The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…

“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!

“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”

“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.

—————————————————

Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!

#male transformation #male tf #race change #racial change #turkish tf #hair growth #hairy tf #reality change #musk tf #my writing

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harmshake · 24 days

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Roman Reigns x Fem Black Reader | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut | ~2,800 words

a/n: A request from @reignsxlover that I finally finished. Hope you enjoy. 🥹

Happy reading! Read my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

There was something savage about signing away your rights to yourself to another. Every part of yourself. Every hair on your head. Every finger on each arm. Even your gaze as your eyes were only for him now. Something savage indeed. And sexy.

You'd met him casually. He was tall and bulky like an athlete but he wore an ash gray suit and black dress shirt beneath it with matching loafers. Roman Reigns, a luxury accountant you came to learn, and he looked anything but casual when he'd come into your job at the café and order the same cappuccino every day. Vanilla, heavy cream, light on the expresso. "Trying to cut back on all that caffeine. Besides, I don't need any help staying up for hours and hours," he informed you one morning when you handed him his coffee.

His voice was always deep, always smooth, and always friendly, albeit a bit haughty. About what, you weren't sure. But you were sure the way his fingers always seemed to graze over yours when he took his drink from you was no mistake.

He left you in a pitiful state each time. His brown eyes were the same deep shade of the Columbian coffee beans in glass jars that lined the counter behind you. Just as strong and potent, too, as they lingered on you long enough to send a rush of warmth through your limbs. That rush made you ashamed because it wasn't like you to crush on customers. And yet it became very much your after-work routine to fantasize of his brown eyes watching you, drinking in the sight of you touching yourself for him, his voice robust with all that bass but so gentle and cooing in your ear...

"Show me how you want me to make you cum, angel...ah, that's it."

"That's the spot? Right there? Do it faster for me...faster."

"Mmm, there you go. You belong to me now, don't you? You'll only cum for me, won't you?"

After a few weeks, it became incredibly difficult to keep eye contact with the man. That was until he spoke after you took his order, "Are you free for dinner? You shouldn't be, beautiful as you are and today being Valentine's..." He paused with a handsome smirk that made your lips quiver with a flattered one. "I think I've bought enough coffee as a ruse to see you. And I'd like to see you tonight."

Oh, god, his eyes. The alluring curve of them as they crinkled with that smirk...the seductive light in them. Holding yours carefully, expectantly. Hypnotic, you were certain as you heard yourself say yes before you considered if you already had plans that evening. Once he handed you his phone to type your number into and left you pitiful and hot with his coffee in his hand and a promise on his pretty lips to pick you up at eight, you remembered you were due at your best friend's for a Galentine's Friday movie night. It would have to be Saturday movie night now.

He texted you an hour after your shift ended, a reminder and a request that you wear something that "makes you feel expensive." It felt like more of a demand from the lack of a question mark at the end of the sentence, but you were inclined to do so as you didn't want to be caught looking homely next to him in his suit you knew he'd be wearing.

A black, silk dress, fitted to the shape of you and showing just enough shoulder and leg to pique his interest but still appear demure and sophisticated. Roman arrived on time in the sportiest car you'd ever seen and told you how beautiful you looked with a kiss on your cheek and a bouquet of red roses to hold to your bosom as you inhaled their scent. He smelled as beautiful as he looked and dinner was just as beautiful, too. Tealights with a golden twinkle illuminated the elegant space. Skinny flutes of champagne. Succulent lobster in the shell and black truffle risotto. That rush of warmth simmered along your skin as you both talked quietly, laughed softly, and gazed at one another intently...but then your eyes focused on a gray manilla folder he slid across the table during dessert.

The chocolate and cherry ganache cake was tempting but not as much as the contents of the folder, his thick eyebrows raising once with a nod for you to open it. You struggled to read what was clearly and gracefully worded on the three sheets of paper. Non-disclosure. Sensual consent and obedience. Submissive at all times. Toys intended for bondage and discipline. Safeword. Your name.

"What the hell is this?" you blurted in a whisper as you read the words again and again. When you glanced up at him with confused and slightly frantic eyes, he sat calmly with his hands coolly clasped together on the table. Those eyes steady, heady, and burning you with that warm rush when his tongue briefly appeared to lick his lips.

"An agreement," he replied simply. He placed a sleek, black pen next to your hand that tried to tremble when you went to flip through the pages again. His name and office details were engraved on it in cursive red. "Should you choose to sign it, and I hope you will, the terms will begin this evening."

"The terms?" You knew what they were. They were printed and bullet-pointed and required your initials next to each. He breathed a little chuckle at your astonishment.

"I won't play coy with you and I prefer you don't, either. I want you. All of you. And you want me, too. Isn't that right?" he asked you back. His voice still so gentle like he knew you needed the coaxing...yet still haughty like he knew you would sign your name all the same. You nodded once but still didn't sign, not then. You weren't quite sure what was stopping you, especially since you never stopped yourself from whimpering his name in the late hours of the night as you made yourself cum and cum fucking good from the thought of being his...

"For how long?" It was the only question you could conjure as when you signed away your body to him, you wanted to know if there would come a day he'd grow bored of you and thought to release you. Roman took a slow sip of his champagne and licked his lips once more as he let his gaze caress a part of you that you didn't even know he could see with your dress on.

Yet your thighs came together underneath the table, a poor attempt to stifle the warmth that gathered and surged there as he declared, "For however long you'd allow me to replace your fingers. I would dedicate my time to satisfying you in the ways you've been craving...the ways you've been needing me to, sweetheart."

You grasped the pen and clicked it, flitting your initials and signature everywhere it was required. The ink bled red, as did the satin sheets of his vast bed. A masterpiece of a suite, his grand and avant-garde bedroom accented with red paintings and floral fragrance from the vases that held more roses, his entire home more akin to a mansion just beyond town near the lush, hilly wilderness where people owned businesses and land. And now he owned you, another piece of art in his possession as you posed on his bed where he'd left you to fetch a few items.

Yet he didn't depart without specific instructions and another kiss on your cheek as he held your chin with agile, thick fingers: "I'll leave you the room to change into what you'll find in the gift bag on the dresser. Have a seat on the bed until I get back. Make yourself comfortable."

You weren't uncomfortable but it was certainly an adjustment. Your bare skin was barely hidden in the crimson, lace lingerie you donned, as well as the red sheer stockings that reached the middle of your thighs all uncovered from the red tissue paper they were carefully wrapped in while inside the golden Lise Charmel bag. How he managed to correctly guess your size for the fabric to hug your body astounded you, but you remembered he was skilled with numbers...

When Roman reappeared through the doorway of the bedroom, he was still in his suit—although missing his jacket and the first couple of buttons of his shirt to reveal his muscled pecs and an elaborate tattoo on his right you had no clue was there—and carrying a small, black gift box in his hands. He placed it on your lap like an offering to you with a low purr, "For you, beautiful."

You pulled off the top to find more red and silk. A blindfold. Two sashes. And a little, glistening glass plug perched in the middle. Your fingertips skimmed along its rose-shaped end, curious how'd it feel inside you, how he'd feel inside you, before your eyes trailed up to the hulking man towering over you and studying you with those eyes that made you hot as he asked, "Do you like them?"

"Do I have a choice?" you inquired in a small voice, half-teasing. He smirked.

"You can use the safeword if you don't." Roman moved the box from your lap to the bed, taking a sash from them to hold in his large hands. He then lightly took your ankles that dangled over the edge of the bed, wrapping the sashes around and lacing them together in a knot that held them together. "How's that feel?"

"Uhm, good..." you whispered as he used the other sash to bind your wrists. Your heart pounded from his touch, so, so agile, and from his captivating gaze as he observed you all tied up on his bed for him to play with...

Those eyes were the last thing you saw before he bound you with the blindfold, joining you on his bed as he lay beside you with his smooth, luscious voice in your ear, "I know when you're by yourself in the middle of the night, you close your eyes and think of me because...I think of you, too."

His lips, just as smooth and luscious, pressed to your throat for a kiss that made you gasp to not know it was coming. "You've thought of how you want me to touch you..."

His hand took his lips' place on your throat, a delicate grasp and another little gasp, as he left a kiss on your collarbone, his warm breath on your skin as he said, "I've thought of how I want to make you cum...and I need you to cum three times, beautiful."

He pulled away then and left you pitiful, as usual, your heart thrumming and your blood rushing with that warmth that made you slick between your thighs. Suddenly, every detail of the room you couldn't see felt explicit. The cool air wafting every so often and lapping at your skin that rose with slight goosebumps. The velvety satin underneath you trying to soothe your excited flesh. The floral aroma mingling with his cologne, intoxicating and intensified by his body heat lingering close. The soft slosh of his wet licks and his hushed moan from delighting in your taste.

His hands on your ass. You on your knees. Panties still on and pushed to the side. The petite plug gently pushed in one little entrance. His tongue hidden in the other beneath it. Your face nearly hidden in the sheets. Your voice rasped with a much louder moan as you delighted in him. Until it was too rapturous.

"Unhh...Roman...please. Please," you choked out, a rasping sob following your words. You clenched around everything, flinched with the pads of his fingertips sweeping along your tender clit, and trembled from the orgasm that wouldn't let go, not when he wouldn't let go, as well. "Coffee."

The safeword. He let you free then but not without a husky, lone whisper, "One."

A minute or two to catch your breath. You heard what sounded like clothes rustling and landing on the floor with soft thuds. Then you felt him shifting you, his silky hair tickling your thighs until they rested on his shoulders. God, he was warm and soft yet traces of fine hair prickled you where your intimate areas nestled together. Your hands shot up to his hard abs, you knew it as you felt your thumb slip along his belly button. You felt him slip inside you then, or at least try to. You were beyond wet, your panties ruined, but he was beyond a size that could enter without small strokes to fit.

But make himself fit he did, no matter your whining, whimpering, and crying his name. Your nails left indents on his skin and you were sure his hands would leave marks on your hips from how he held onto you. Tight and imploring. His thrusts held you the same, stretching and begging you to cum with his insistence to stroke that same spot you often did when you were alone...

"I'm close...faster, p-please."

"Right there, oh, god...Roman."

"Two."

Faster now, for good measure, pounding deep, dripping with your honey, leaving you nowhere to run as he pinned you down, diligent in tapping that spot, threatening to make you tap out.

"Coffee. Fffuuuck. Coffee."

He stopped but he didn't pull out, rather he let you find your breath again as he breathed in a grunt, "Hmm. I hear you, sweetheart. But I need one more from you."

Shifting you again, on your knees again, but he kept you upright. His hands ripped off the soaked fabric in his way before he held you by your breasts this time, wide thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened. His hard flesh entered you from behind, filling you a second time as the glass sat snug within you already, working you with circling thrusts until you felt the blindfold dampen and stick to your cheeks from your tears that it caught.

"Three."

You never came so hard that you cried, but here you were: Gushing down your thighs, staining the sheets, falling to pieces as he held you together, held you put, and held his lips to your throat with kisses that suckled your skin and growled to it as well, "Look at you. Making a mess for me. You'll only cum like this for me...do you understand? No one else, you hear me? You belong to me."

"Yesss, god, yesss."

"Say it."

"I belong to you."

You cried out from his words alone, just as dangerously delicious as he repeated them on your tongue with his kiss, repeated them in the same cadence just as you imagined he would on those lonely nights when you cried for the real thing, for him...

"You belong to me."

You thought to murmur the safeword but he made it hurt so good, too good, digging deeper, faster, until he tugged back and made you murmur instead, "No, please...don't stop."

One last shift, a gentle shove to plant your hands on the bed. You thought his words were delicious but the flavor of him on your lips was, too, as he beckoned your mouth open, filling it with his heavy, veiny length that twitched on your tongue. You wrapped him with it, lured him to your throat with it where he twitched more before his hand cradled the back of your head, fingers sinking into your hair with no push or pull, just trembling need to hold you as he uttered your name with a single moan.

You would have done anything to see how beautiful he looked right then, but your fantasies were likely accurate...his long hair spilling down his shoulders, head thrown back before it lulled forward, full lips slanted with gorgeous groans that sent that rush of heat through you. However, the taste of his heated pleasure rushing down your throat would do...

Once he finally removed your blindfold, you fell onto your back to rest, yet your eyelids fluttered with the dim lighting of his bedroom you sought to find him in. He was next to you with his handsome, curious eyes on you, too. Undoubtedly gauging your response even as you still lay bound and plugged for him. His fingers slowly trailed up your belly, making you shudder in your silk, meeting your chin that he cupped. "Wondering if I should untie you. Yet if I recall, you told me not to stop, sweetheart."

You thought of the terms of your agreement that you read and reread...and thought of the aftercare it outlined should you choose it. Hot baths and massages. Pampering facials and manicures. Gourmet meals and sweets. Or mere cuddling until you fell asleep.

"I'm yours. Do what you want with me, baby..."

50 Shades of Red

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