#Intimate Thriller
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captaingimpy · 9 months ago
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A Fresh Perspective on the Mafia Genre: A Review of "Eastern Promises"
David Cronenberg’s “Eastern Promises” (2007) marks a riveting departure from the traditional mafia narrative, offering a deep dive into the murky waters of London’s Russian mafia with an intensity that only Cronenberg could deliver. Starring Viggo Mortensen as Nikolai Luzhin, a character of enigmatic loyalties and hidden depths, the film explores themes of identity, loyalty, and redemption…
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abhainnwhump · 1 year ago
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Been obsessing over the idea of a Whumper who wants to live out a stereotypical family fantasy so they kidnap a few Whumpees to do it.
One Whumpee is their spouse. Whumpee is beautiful and caught Whumper's eye. They had a promising future before, but now they're stuck in this housewife role and have to suck up to their captor. They feel worse because they already have someone they love.
Another Whumpee is the kid. Whumper chose this one because of their small size and/or cute features. They have a cute bedroom, childish clothes, and limited access to information so they don't get too smart. They're also drugged most of the time so enjoy naps.
The last Whumpee is the pet. This one gets treated the worst. They have to act like a dog 24/7 and play fetch with the kid. Bonus points if this Whumpee was super cocky before and are now treated like an animal.
Whumper is the head of the household and makes sure everyone else stays in line. They want their family to be perfect, but they aren't against violence. They'll torture the Whumpees until "they love them again".
The Whumpees all befriend each other and plan to escape. They have to be careful so Whumper doesn't catch them, but they can't stay here.
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bixels · 5 months ago
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So I l’ve been getting into your ko crisis story lately (it all sounds rlly awesome btw) and i was curious - you’ve said in the tags in a previous ask that ash is comphet, so is that gonna play a major role in her character arc/journey in any way?
Yeah, the story basically covers her journey of redefining her identity as a queer Asian-American disabled woman in a sports-entertainment industry, which is a media landscape that specifically targets, exploits, and fetishizes people like her.
#ask me#itsthequeercryptid#i don't have much more to say on this cuz as of right now it's in like. early early development process and i'm not a queer woman so#i don't have much authority to say how i want this part of the story to go. even if it's my story i don't wanna set anything in stone yknow#but like. ashley's arc is realizing that she's been performing to appease people both in and out of her life. as both a daughter and a#pro boxer. and that she shouldn't have to force herself to be someone she's not. which in the story continuously hurts her#she doesn't need to validate her existence and find worthiness as a disabled and queer woman#especially to other people#one story beat i drafted is that ashley nearly gets s/a'd by a potential agent (keep in mind the project's inspired by psychological dramas#thrillers like utena and perfect blue) and it's one of the first big moments that causes her to have a crisis of identity#growing less and less comfortable in her skin - both organic and nonorganic - as she realizes how her body is perceived/ exploited/#/objectified as a vehicle for inflicting and absorbing violence. both physical and sexual. especially by men#and near the end of the story the beat is reflected/flipped when she comes together with noora and it's gentle and intimate#but again this is all very iffy. i'm not sure how appropriate this would be as a male writer.#i'm waiting to work with other writers who are more knowledgable on this before moving forward with anything
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dontbelasagne · 1 month ago
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the humorous (but also morbid) irony of Malevolent just dawned on me that we see Arthur coming to terms with a divine being living as a voice in his head...whilst we have both Arthur and John's voices in our own head as an audience to it all listening to this podcast.
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yeyinde · 9 months ago
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Down to the marrow is INSANE! It was the hottest, most terrifying thing I've ever read. PLEASE tell me have more planned for Ghoap because I would gobble it up! The way your write them makes my brain go brrrr
"hottest, most terrifying" i absolutely adore this because i just kinda love when love/romance leaves me feeling slightly queasy lmao so thank you!!! ��
but um! i do have one more planned that i'm working on. an amnesia au, of sorts. i'm always so eager to spoil things for myself and everyone else, so i'll try to keep it brief but: thinking about you waking up in the hospital after a nasty accident (that you can't remember), but are seemingly okay except for the glaring issue that two massive, slightly odd men are claiming to be your husbands. they'll take such good care of you during your recovery, i'm sure! nothing nefarious at all happening here. just a lovely poly couple. it's all so so so so wholesome
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defire · 2 months ago
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Chapter 29: Fun Times
Content: Dissociation, slavery, suicidal, caught/threats, slapping, knife cut
Next morning, Nife was forced to go back to work, despite her awful physical condition. Every step was pain as Nife limped in. She leaned into the sink and supported her weight with her elbows, picking up another plate and focusing on the scalding water.
It was better than the pain inside that reminded her of yesterday's hour of shame and agony.
Every movement sent a fresh streak of humiliation down her spine. The sense of self she'd had inside had been stripped down. It hurt to think. It hurt to imagine fighting anymore. There was the cuff, the whip, the cane, the humiliation, the chores, there was nothing left of her in her life anymore.
She was starting to slowly realize that at some point, there was only one way left to fight. The thing you're never supposed to consider.
Nife had snuck some of the pastries from the table for Iridiss, and she made herself focus on the smell as her friend slipped little bites of sweets into her mouth, careful that the servants didn't see her. Nife had planned on splitting the pastry with Iridiss, but realized when she looked at it that she wasn't hungry at all. It was slightly comforting to see Iridiss enjoying it, though. It was better than throwing it away, which is what they were supposed to do–pastries were too good for slaves, apparently. They said they didn't want the slaves getting any ideas.
Right, because slave brains only run on sweets.
The kitchen was steamy and damp as a small crowd of servants and slaves cleaned up after an uneventful breakfast. The environment reminded Nife of her nanny's stories about the tropical feeling Gapp used to have, crowded with trees and rained on generously, until the rot had begun. At some point the city was going to crumble completely, but of course the population insisted on being there when it did.
Nife had been unusually quiet, since her voice was still gravelly when she talked, and it hurt to use her throat. She hated hearing it because it reminded her of how much she'd screamed, and why.
"Sorry about yesterday," Iridiss said, rinsing off the food next to her. "I tried to keep you outta there. Cause I know y'used to hang with them."
"And nearly earned yourself a beating." Nife played along. Iridiss was making it sound like she didn’t know about everything they did to Nife before she found her broken and alone last night.
Iridiss laughed. She knew Nife well enough at this point to know she was pretty much always joking. Nife no longer had to smile to get people to laugh, which was good, because she couldn't force the corners of her mouth up any more, let alone take the dead, wet look out of her eyes. She'd passed a mirror in the hallway on the way back to work that morning, and her eyes had looked like two pits of darkness. Truly, the eyes were the windows of the soul.
"Instead, you got that lil lordling in trouble." Bud said with blissful stupidity.
"Alright, that's the last straw," Nife said. "I'm killing myself."
Bud and Iridiss laughed, and a natural smirk came to her mouth unbidden as she heard chuckles from the other slaves in the area. Her stomach ground against her.
It was starting to just get hilarious, the way nobody believed her when she was telling the truth.
A genuine, silly little chuckle shook through her body, and when she looked up at Iridiss with that smile, the other girl's shoulders relaxed.
"Oh, Life, seein ya smile." She shook her head.
Nife's shoulders lightened too, like a big load was taken off them. She began to feel a slow, but overwhelming wave of relief filling her.
"Maybe it's time to be selfish." She said out loud.
"Yeah!" Iridiss jabbed her playfully with an elbow, piling another dish into Nife's sink, which was emptying faster as her forehead relaxed and all the pain seemed to disappear from her body, which was gradually filling with both relief and adrenaline.
"If ya don't take care of yaself, nobody'll do it for ya." She said. "I'm so happy–started to really love you, ya know."
"Thanks." Nife said. She elbowed Iridiss back, who laughed again.
The laughter of the others poured joy into her heart as she felt that the end of her pain was getting closer, one way or another. A spark of light like a star shone at the end of the darkness in her mind.
At the same time, she felt a sinking in her stomach. She didn’t want to give up on what she'd had with the Souls. But it was slipping away.
A couple weeks of drudgery passed like a dreadful blur as things began to smooth into a routine for Nife. If she tried to think about how much time had passed, the despair would turn into panic. That was two more weeks of her bond with her friends dying.
It was Thursday. Nife wore herself down to exhaustion through that day, forced to do her normal allotment of work despite her injured state. Her rib had stopped hurting when she breathed, but her knee still forced her to walk with a limp, and it seemed to be stuck in a permanent state of healing and reinjury from the work she was forced to do.
Iridiss went to their quarters a little sooner than the rest of them–she was always getting on Enimee's bad side, so Nife offered to finish up in the kitchen so that she could get some extra rest. 
"Wantcha hang out after?" Iridiss said.
Nife had learned that "wantcha" was a mixture of the words "why don't you" and she loved it. She agreed to spend some time with Iridiss, knowing the girl would want someone to sit beside her on her bed, lean against, and show letters from her brother. She hurried to finish cleaning.
As Nife was on her way, she heard a word that made her hesitate and listen. The word was "evidence".
She paused in the hall just past the sitting room, slowing down and softening her steps as she did, so that they didn't hear her suddenly stop. Her pausing wouldn't be noticed, especially not by the two Banes in the living room–Striker and Creack.
"She'll give her to me if I have that evidence." Striker said. "Think about it. Me on top, you with perfect freedom to pursue every line of research you want. Wouldn't you prefer me to her?"
"Yes." Creack said.
Nife knew that Lady Wry would hurt Creack if he didn't show up to her social functions, and Creack hated socializing when he could be researching in his chambers.
"So where are they?" Striker urged. 
He wasn't audible at this point, but Nife was reading his mouth through heat, as she did so often now. She'd begun to be so good at it, she didn't always even need to hear bits of the conversation, as long as she was close enough to see them clearly. The key was to follow the tongue in their mouth, which was always much warmer than the teeth.
"But... she'll know it was me."
Striker leaned toward Creack, who flinched back, protecting his personal space.
"I'll protect you." He said. 
Creack rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, turning his head away, as he often did when he was nervous.
"Besides..." Striker said. "I can hurt you a lot worse than she ever could."
"I know." Creack said quickly, leaning back further into his seat away from Striker. "I know. It's–" He swallowed. "–I left it in his room. Second drawer. I didn't want anyone to know I'd ever found it. Everything is there exactly as it always was."
A servant came down the hall and Nife lowered her head, keeping her eyes down as the servant passed her, shoving her out of the way unnecessarily as she passed.
"Damn middle management." Nife muttered.
The minute she was out of earshot, Nife broke into a run for Keerenn's quarters. As long as Striker hadn't heard her stop, and as long as he didn't outright run to catch her, she should be able to find the evidence, hide it somewhere else, and have something she could use against Lady Wry to get her freedom.
No need to kill myself if I can get free, Nife thought.
Creack and Striker had rooms in this hall, and after passing those rooms and a large guest bedroom, Nife reached the dead man's room. She reached for the doorknob, then flinched as she realized Striker was striding up to her, impossibly fast on those long legs, looking as if it was the easiest thing in the world to walk as fast as she could jog.
[I'm not sure if I shared this drawing yet, but this is my rendition of Nife, younger, I'm not really good at consistency in my art but you get the idea]
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"What are you doing, Nife?" He said. "Aren't you going to run from me?"
Nife froze. She lowered her eyes and retreated from the door, biting her lips in consternation.
"As if I could run." She said, wishing she could curse at him. "Where would I run, your lordship? The lavatory? The window?"
He just smiled and kept coming closer, those silent steps squishing in the plush hall rug.
"Well, don't go anywhere," He said. "I want you for something. You going to do as you're told this time?"
"I would never disobey your magnificence." Nife bowed slightly to conceal the deep eye-roll. "What could your lordship possibly want from me today? I am profoundly at your service."
His smile deepened slightly.
Fuck.
He'd nearly reached her. 
She found herself unconsciously retreating.
"Trying to get another step ahead of me, aren't you?" He said, grabbing her hand across the knuckles.
"Not possible, your lordship." She nodded at his long legs.
He chuckled.
"Sometimes I like you, Nife." He said.
"I'm so flattered." She said dully. "But wonderful as your company is, I have duties to attend to..."
Striker didn't let her leave, gripping tighter onto her hand until it hurt. The touch gave her a feeling of spiders down her stomach.
"By the way, what did they do to you after that dinner when you threatened Glen?" He said, pulling a key out of his pocket as he spoke. He was clumsy with his left hand. "You acted like you'd broken every bone in your body." He chuckled.
Nife shrugged.
"They respectfully asked me not to do it again, lordship," She said. "What do you think?"
Striker tilted his head back and let out a short laugh, then released her hand and trailed his fingers down her back, which was still bumpy with swelling. She hissed in breath at the touch and flinched away.
"Don't go anywhere." Striker said, unlocking the door.
He took her by the wrist and pulled her in after him, then closed the door. The first thing she noticed was the smell of rotting flesh. It nearly took her off her feet, and her eyes watered with disgust and nausea.
She looked around, eyes widening as she saw the state of the place.
When they said she'd preserved it exactly as it had been, they meant exactly. A massive brown bloodstain had colored the whole side of the rug brown, and splatters of it were all over the room and on the blanket, the wall, some on the desk. Also on the desk was a paper, clean and old, with slightly fading ink and an unusually sloppy signature on it. 
The smell of death was coming from the bed, which was messed up like someone had slept in it over and over without ever fixing it or washing the sheets.
Her eyes wandered over to the window, as they often did, and she noticed that the lock was broken and the window sill was scuffed like it had been climbed through many times. While she was making judgments on the late Keerenn Wry's habits, Striker was opening the drawer and pulling out a paper.
"It's funny," He said, eyes roving over the paper. He smiled victoriously and slid it inside his coat, then turned to her again. "Every time I'm in this room, I notice how clean that piece of paper is. Even though the desk is splattered with blood. And see the creases? It was folded into someone's pocket before being set here."
"Oh wow, the rumors are true!" Nife said.
Striker glanced at her to see if she was actually that excited, and she burst into resentful laughter at his expense.
"Everybody knows." She said.
He turned on her, moving much too close into her space–for a Bane. Time among the slaves had gotten her much more accustomed to this. She met the man’s gaze bitterly.
"What the hell do you think you know?" Striker said.
She shrugged. Then, realizing that wasn't going to be enough for him, she added,
"Even you admitted it... She killed him."
"But there's proof." He said. "Do you not understand how valuable this is to me?"
It was even more valuable to her, and the fact that he had it meant that she needed to make her move as soon as possible. But he was holding the evidence. She'd have to steal it.
"You're part of this now," He added.
"And whose fault is that?"
Striker tilted his head at her, nodding, stepped back to put the paper on the desk, and then turned back to her.
"I'm going to slap you now."
Nife couldn't suppress a small wince. Of course he was. His fingers twitched, half-raised. 
"I'm going to slap you, and then I'm going to explain why you're so important to this plan, and you're going to listen to me." He said, grabbing her by the earrings and yanking her face-to-face with him. She was close enough to see how well he took care of his skin, which was clean and well-shaven.
Then he let go and slapped her.
She kept her eyes down, clutching at her stinging cheek. It wasn't the first time she'd been slapped today for "mouthing off". 
"Getting off yet?" She murmured.
He bristled.
"Sorry." She cringed back. "I didn't mean to say it. Look, I–I'm still here. I'm not running. I'm in your plan. I’m not trying to provoke you."
He had raised a fist, but at that, he lowered it, holding his breath for a moment as if to control himself. He shook his head hard at her.
"No one can provoke me." He released his breath. "I forget you're only fifteen. You don't know anything." He sighed. “I’m not a villain, Nife; I’m trying to restore our city.”
"Well, that makes me feel better about being slapped." Nife said.
He let out a short laugh.
"I may be vicious, but at least I appreciate your humor, unlike my sister." He said. "Now, if she is convicted of murder, the estate would go to me. You'd rather have me as your master. Wouldn't you?" He added.
"...I think I'd rather die, actually."
She jumped back as Striker drew a dagger and stepped toward her, blocking the door as she was opening it, by pressing his knee against it. He came up close enough that their thighs touched and Nife felt her lip curl in resentment. He pressed the point of the dagger to the base of her throat, where it dipped in under the adam's apple.
She found a tiny chuckle of anxiety release from her as she leaned back instinctively away from the blade, chest and throat tightening so much that her voice cracked. Her shoulders and head pressed against the door. He placed a hand on her neck, thumb gently pressed against the underside of her jaw, tilting it back.
"You'd rather die?" He said.
"You only just figured out you can't control me?" She smirked bitterly. "You're slow."
He didn't answer. The ornate dagger stung as he twisted the tip, drawing blood.
"Ouch–hell." She said through gritted teeth. "Go all the way or not at all, asshole."
"I don't trust your word, so, I'll have to do this." He said. Then he spoke, and his words echoed in her mind like an undefeatable compulsion. "Don't talk about this until I tell you to."
Then he let her go. She found herself panting for breath as he wiped the dagger on the bottom of his shirt.
"Well this has been fun," She said.
"Go." He said.
She left.
She didn't talk about it, and found herself unable to. An unearthly compulsion to shut her mouth came over her when she tried. There was some twisted magic about that.
First chapter: next chapter:
Taglist: @tildeathiwillwrite @mimostic @fleur-a-whump @a-n-j-a-maria per Tumblr's content policy, this is the non-nsfw version, but you can find the canon Dance of Death on Amazon and ao3 (which I'm updating shabbily as fast as I can). Also if you want, it would mean so much to me if you leave a review or comment while you're there.
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luckyluan · 7 months ago
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THE CLIMAX 
MARCH 25, 2024 - 11:53AM 
Carlton carefully peered through the slatted blinds of the closet door. One hand covered his mouth while the other trained the camera of his iPhone on the scene unfolding in his bedroom. His husband, Brandon, lay on the bed with both hands deep in his pants as a muscular light skinned man with a neat fade removed his shirt in front of him. 
“Professor Roberts?” Carlton whispered. “What the fuck?” 
Carlton expected his husband to come home for lunch. He even expected him to come home and rub one out to something from his phone, but he never expected his husband and his psychology professor to have sex in his house. His emotions ran through him like tidal waves, and it took everything he had not to fling the closet doors open and start punching whoever his fists found first, but he was smarter than that. 
Carlton bit down on his lips and kept his phone trained on the bed. He watched as Professor Roberts took off his purple and gold sweater and flexed the muscles in his chest for Brandon; who was lost in the moment. Brandon’s legs found purchase on the thick shoulders of Professor Roberts. The professor grabbed Brandon’s thighs and thrust his pelvis into Brandon repeatedly. Brandon’s echoing moans were like nails on a chalkboard for Carlton. He stood still though his hands trembled. Tears raced down his slender cheeks as Brandon called out his professor’s name over and over. The bedroom shook with the force of the professor’s stroke and Brandon’s echoing pleasures were like gunshots against Carlton’s ears. 
Carlton’s body began to tremble as he watched his professor and his husband destroy their marriage. He could feel the scorched track of his throat as he fought against the urge to vomit. His legs seized with nerves as he willed himself to stay hidden. This was his hell. All Carlton could do was to count the seconds as they crawled by. Finally, the room went silent. Professor Robert clung to Brandon as he grunted, and Brandon pulled him in closer. 
“We need to hurry up. Hubby will be home soon.” Professor Roberts chided. 
“He always takes his time. I swear he loves that office more than he loves me.” Brandon said crestfallen. 
“And that’s why you have me.” Professor Roberts cooed. “And he’ll never know.” 
“Yeah,” Brandon said as he reached for his pants. “Let’s hurry up, man. I gotta make it look like I took the long way home.” 
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holyviolence · 9 months ago
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soon im gonna post a playlist of how it feels to live in late stage capitalism and absolutely fucking hate it. this has no bearing on how i feel about my life.
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kquil · 16 days ago
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JAMES POTTER | GENUINE
SUM. : your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him
LENGTH : 1.8k
TAGS : actor james potter au ; modern au ; muggle au ; singer reader au ; actor/director sirius black au ; actress marlene mckinnon au ; fluff ; celebrity couple goals ; james can't do romantic roles ; he's too loyal!
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“CUT!” Sirius shouts and James drops his shoulders in disappointment, his expression of ‘hopeless love’ also slipping off his face. This is why he wasn’t suited for romantic roles. As Sirius shouts for everyone to take a short five-minute break, James catches Marlene sending him a sympathetic look before moving to her chair with the help of her make-up team, who lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding dress for easier movement. “Come on James, what’s gotten into you?” Sirius asks, making his way over as Remus touches up James’ hair and suit. 
“I’m trying Sirius,” the actor sighs, “I think I just need a break to collect myself and then I can finally get that winning take for you,” 
“You better,” Sirius playful threatens, “I know you’re a lovesick fool so I know the type of infatuated expressions you can pull. Just try to emulate that and you’re golden, okay?”
‘It’s not that easy if it isn’t her…’ James was tempted to protest but settled with a simple, “Okay…” satisfied, Sirius walks away with Remus to discuss some things with the camera crew while James leans against the set’s alter. 
As an actor, James should find it easy to perform his characters’ expressions and emotions, his stardom and recurring roles in thriller, action and adventure films were a sentiment to that. However, his current role requires romantic displays, something he had actively avoided in his acting career. 
Characters that had passionate, romantic and intimate scenes were roles James tended to avoid primarily due to his endless loyalty to you, his childhood sweetheart. As young teens, you and James fell in love long before your successes. Since then, you have only grown a deeper love for each other, fostered by the hardships that came with your dreams of becoming a singer and his of becoming an actor with Sirius. 
His best friend eventually divulged into directing his own films whilst James continued expanding his career as an actor — as much as he’s able to with the number of scripts he’s dropped for their romantic interests and amorous scenes. It didn’t sit right with him having to kiss another girl let alone look lovingly at someone that wasn’t you. He felt like a cheat. Many, including Sirius, however, have told him that it was part of his job but James was insistent on making no exceptions. He respected you and the love you shared too much. The same way you would play your own love interest in music videos while wearing a short wig and masculine attire. It was a show of mutual respect you both had for the other before and after your relationship became public. 
The only reason James had taken on this role was due to Sirius’ insistence as the director, the lack of intimate scenes as well as the dominating adventure, and fantasy genre. It would all be underpinned by small heartfelt moments with his character’s love interest played by his close friend Marlene McKinnon. The two characters’ love story will end in tragedy, haunted by the trope of ‘right person, wrong time’. James believed he could convincingly play his loving expressions only brought on by you in the rare, romantic moments his character shares with Marlene’s but it’s proving harder than he originally thought. Simply thinking about you wasn’t enough…
Mulling over his character’s story, James imagines you in Marlene’s place. He only had three minutes remaining to focus on how he should convey his character’s ‘hopeless love’ convincingly. 
To concentrate, he closes his eyes and thinks deeply, ignoring the sudden scuffle and whispers around him. On an adventure to rescue his unrequited love’s significant other, James selflessly volunteers to aid in her quest, protecting her and cherishing her throughout the arduous journey, putting his life at risk for a girl who would never love him back. Unselfishly, he continues forward without drawing any attention to the deep love he holds for her, the audience kept in suspense of his mysterious ambitions— that is, until the dream sequence. In his sleep, influenced by the surrounding, foreign plants’ effects, James dreams of his ideal future, one where he gets to marry his love, who will reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. It’s the moment all audience members realise James’ true motivations, encouraging a swell of heartache amongst them when they are forced to accept the reality his own character is made to face: that he cannot be with his love no matter despite his efforts. Her heart belongs to another and if he were to fall for the plant’s trap, he will never wake up from his heavenly dream-come-true and become living fertilsier to continue the plant’s life. The heartache of that realisation is further emphasised when James doesn’t stop loving her in his own, silent and benevolent way. 
This is going to be a big moment for James’ character; he needs to put his all into this!
Before he has the chance to open his eyes, however, James is already being led to his spot on the set by Remus. The brunette informs him that the short break is over and instructs him to start before his turn to face Marlene. 
“Again, the shot’s focus will be on your face, James, Make it a good one,” Sirius instructs from his director’s chair and, with a small pause cues for the start of the hundredth take.
Opening his eyes gradually, as if waking up from a dream, James takes a moment to analyse his surroundings. He meets the eyes of his groomsmen, shooting them a confused look before slowly turning and raising his gaze. He’s become familiar with Marlene in her wedding dress now so her off-centred placement doesn’t deter him. He also fully trusts in the team, if they saw it fit to make any changes, he’ll help follow through. Marlene is only slightly off centre, he realises, to accommodate the camera’s view of his expression more clearly. James fully expects to only see Marlene, however, when he finally raises his gaze, in the distance, he sees you by the camera. 
And James immediately smiles. 
He completely forgets where he is, rather, he savours the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of you, the burst of elation in his brain when he sees you smiling at him, dressed in his oversized sweater and your casual jeans. You’re not in a wedding dress nor dolled up the same way Marlene is for the take but you’re just as gorgeous. There’s a tingling itch in his fingertips to reach out for you and he almost does but stops when he remembers where he is and what’s happening around him. His look of sweeping joy and deep affection falters ever so slightly but is completely captured by the camera’s close-up shot. James’ internal berating of another failed performance barely begins when Sirius is suddenly cheering in delight. 
“CUT! AND PRINT!” Sirius claps and laughs at the success but James is left blinking in confusion. Did he hallucinate you? He looks in your direction again. No, you weren’t a figment of his imagination, you’re really here! “Finally! That was what I was looking for! Great idea on putting her beside the camera, Moony,” 
Remus nods his head in graceful humility as you giggle from where you stand. You had planned a surprise visit for James and called Remus beforehand for access to the set. It was the perfect surprise considering you had barely seen each other the last few weeks; he was busy filming with Sirius and Marlene while you were recording songs for your new, up-and-coming album. That only seemed to add to James’ favourable reaction, however. 
“BREAK!” Sirius announces with a wink directed at you, “Let's give the two love birds a moment, as thanks for finally getting the job done. Let’s give it ten!” it seemed as though succeeding after multiple failures had made Sirius a little too happy and laidback but who was James to complain? As Marlene knowingly smirks at him, he runs past and launches himself at you. With a squeal, you return his embrace and giggle into his shoulder. 
“I missed you…” he whispers into your crown.
“Surprise!” you announce despite the lateness and giggle again. Music to his ears. 
“Thanks for helping me with my scene, love,” he pulls away with deep affection swimming in his hazel eyes and he cups your jaw while resisting the urge lean in and kiss you endlessly. He loves the sound of your voice just as much as the feel of your lips against his own so, for now, he’ll willing listen. He can taste your sweet lips later.  
“I didn’t really know what was happening but I’m happy to help,” 
“You’re so cute,” he sighs and finally pulls you into passion-filled kiss before you can utter another word. "I can't believe you're my lady,"
"Your lady?"
"Yes," James giggles and kisses your cheek again and again and again, "my lady, the same way, I'm your man,"
"Mmm, sounds good," you utter against his lips, "I'll have to feature you in my new music video then~"
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
“...tell me about that scene. It was such a big moment for the audience and your character. How did you manage to look so in love but then so heartbroken?” the interviewer asks, smiling but tilting his head in curiosity when Marlene burst out laughing. 
“Oh, this is such a good story!” James looks away, unable to meet his co-star and friend’s mischievous smirk and glimmering eyes, “Can I tell him?” she doesn’t even give him the chance to answer before ingeminating the tale, “James couldn’t get that moment right for multiple takes. We were all getting tired of him, really. But since Sirius knew he was capable of being a love-drunk fool, he persisted for over an hour! And this is just for a one minute section of the film!” James finally chuckles despite his flustered expression when Marlene makes a side comment about how the wedding dress was a chore to wear for such an extended period of time and didn’t appreciate James’ slow uptake, “there wasn’t even an after-party for me to let loose in, my supposed ‘groom’ had his brain elsewhere,” the two share a laugh and James picks up on the story. 
“Elsewhere, meaning my girlfriend. She actually planned a surprise visit during filming and was brought in by Remus. He put her right by the camera and the reaction you saw on film was my reaction to seeing her instead of Marlene.” his co-star coos at how adorable he is whenever he’s around you and gossips with the interviewer about how cute of a couple the two of you make behind the scenes. 
“Is that why you’ve become her love interest in the music videos for her new album?” the interviewer asks impromptu. He’s on the edge of his seat and is a clear fan of your music, which makes James happier than if the man was to say he was a fan of him.  
“Naturally,” James smiles to himself, “she did say I was the inspiration for her love ballads,”
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NAVI.
A/N : this was inspired by this tiktok and a daydream i had! the anime is called 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End', I've never watched it but it was on my fyp, i did some exploring and, now, here i am (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!
966 notes · View notes
bitchlessdino · 21 days ago
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stolen entries (m)
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airing: fem!Reader x stalker!joshua
Genre: thriller, smut, stalking au
Word count: 10k
tags: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T FOLLOW IN THE READERS FOOTSTEPS AND STAY SAFE. rated R for life RUINING, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND READ WARNINGS TO AVOID ANY TRIGGERING SUBJECTS, stalking, wrong just very morally black!joshua, dark imagery including but not limited to: implied and mentions of murder/threat, mentions of manipulation, mentions of blood, window sex and implied fear of falling out, possessive!joshua, pet names (angel, darling, ect), hair pulling, spanking, blowjobs/cunnilingus with consumption, face fucking, degradation, praise kink
Summary: Diary entries of a man in love. Joshua knew he loved you the moment he laid his eyes on you and had to have you, even if it meant enduring the echoes of every intimate detail of every sexual encounter you’d had before him. But he knew you were worth the wait. He was worth the wait.
author note: thank you @diamonddaze01 @wongyuseokie @tomodachiii @miabebe for betareading! mental health is great thank you for asking, im really excited to have been working on this and everyone involved in betaing have been so incredibly helpful. i hope yall enjoy and thank you again for your patience. <3
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae
Entry #3 - November 30th: White suits you.
You look so perfect the way you do. Perfect in white. Perfect in lace. Perfect. Perfect. Forgive me, darling, for being redundant. But that’s all you look to me. Perfect. 
What wasn’t perfect was who you had in your room.
How perfectly imperfect.
But what was perfect was those sounds. So lewd. So perfect. Decadent. Enchanting you are, my dear. I wish I had been the reason for those sounds, but for now, I can only live vicariously through November 30th. He will only be known as November 30th. He doesn't deserve a name.
But, in a way, I should thank him. He’s satiating you now. He’s getting you ready for me as I’m getting ready for you.
Be patient, my sweet.
Entry #15 - December 15th: You like how it hurts.
 I don’t like this one. He’s rude. Doesn’t even open the door for you. Doesn’t say thank you or please when he asks for something. Just dumps you into bed like you’re a ragdoll.
For some reason, you like that. You like that it hurts. You like it so much you scream his name. I’m forced to learn it. 
Seokmin. 
Seokmin. Seokmin. Seokmin. 
Awful name. Awful on the tongue. I’d be better on the tongue.
But instead, he’s striking you. And I see red. In more ways than one. And you should be in agony, and I’d rescue you. But you’re laughing. You’re begging for more. You’re not fighting him to stop. You enjoy it too much. 
So I’m watching again. But I’m not gonna like it. I don't like him.
But you like it. That’s what matters. I despise December 15th—what he does to you, how much you like it, and how much I could do so much better.
Entry #32 - January 1st: You like to teach.
Happy New Year, darling. You started off with someone young. Someone talkative. An amateur. You’re drunk, however, so I'm sure you’ll regret it in the morning.
But for now, you’re enjoying yourself yet again, and by god is it messy. He’s very messy. He touches you like he’s never had experience before, and you let him. I should resent you, but in no way can. You’re precious. My experimental little darling. I’m addicted to you. I must have you, and neither this Chan, Seokmin, nor Jeonghan can stop me.
But for now, I'm grateful the boy cut it short. Like the late bloomer is. How incompetent. But you made it a teaching opportunity. You’re quite good at it. And you made the boy work to your advantage. That’s so sexy. So you. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also clever. Just like I knew you’d be. January 1st is a good kid. But he should stay in his lane before I push him into one.
Entry #45 January 13th: Dirty talk is a must.
This one is rather peculiar. Overly confident. And rather…annoying. Like a puppy without a leash. Drunk on ego and hard liquor with names I don’t even bother to pronounce. He’s pretentious and it’s clear in the way he undresses himself for you.
He treats you like he’s the only man in the world, and you’re simply beneath him, but I know you’re so much more. Yet, you encourage it. You encourage his… delusion that he’s this outstanding work of art.
You love how he narrates, how he talks to you as if you’re incompetent—degrading even—and you egg him on. “Good girl” this, “bad slut” that. It’s contradictory, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You get off on such obscenity. You’re euphoric from it. Although I hate to do such a thing and call you rancid names, I’ll have to ponder more creative versions.
Nonetheless, you like a bit of chatter, don’t you? Well, January 13th will have nothing on me, my little Angel.
Entry #78 - February 15th: You can keep going until you’re in ruin.
You’ve had a lonely month, and I do apologize, my darling, especially since it’s partially my fault. It is not my time just yet to have you. I must discipline myself first. Condition myself to cater to your every whim. And you have a lot of them.
You’re greedy. This one was utterly restless, I almost felt bad. His stamina had nothing on yours, darling, and I see that you can bite more than you can chew. You’re insatiable. I lost track of the hours that night. My knees, scraped raw and red against the rough concrete floor, as I stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for you to finish, which you did. Again. Again. Again. Again. 
I was starting to abhor this February 15th. What country did he save in his past life that earned him such devoted attention? Was he just that amazing? Did he make you 1000% satisfied? Would I have to kill him for that kind of love? Skin him and string him up like Christmas lights? It would be nice to prepare for the holidays early, wouldn’t it?
I’ll refrain for now. For your sake. But to keep up with you, my condition needs to multiply tenfold. I need to be able to be ready. Do what I need to to make indubitably and utterly mine.
M I N E.
Entry # 124 - April 1st: Toys are for adults too.
The joke was on me thinking you’ve changed your ways. Making love, or should I say primal sex, seemed to be something in the back of your head, but that wasn’t the case.
Instead, you fucked someone. A comedian nonetheless, and after he had finished his stand-up. You sat your pretty ass on the stool beside him, twirling your pretty strands of hair, batting your pretty lashes on that pretty face of yours. Just because it was April Fool's day doesn't mean you had to be the fool, my love. That was reckless. 
But I suppose I learned something about you. Something you like in bed that you haven’t exhibited in others is that although you love a good laugh, it wasn’t fit for the bedroom. Sometimes, toys aren’t just a trickster's accessory but a vixen’s too. They are just simply different. Distinctly different.
Though a comedian’s job is to speak, you had him—well—gagged. Ball-gagged, no less. That was... intriguing. Enticing, to say the least, and you turned the whole performance into something far more captivating. There’s always something new I’m learning about you, love. And I can’t wait to show you what I’m capable of when I finally get my hands on you—and your toys.
Entry # 200 - June 14th: You could do it anywhere.
Keeping up with your summer antics wasn’t easy. Considering every precaution I’ve taken and every obstacle I’ve faced, I did everything from double-checking flight numbers to calculating the perfect distance to stay hidden. If only you could appreciate my efforts, love. I had to make sure my hiding place remained undetected—always just far enough to stay out of sight, but close enough to ensure your safety.
And while I thought a vacation with your family was the last place you’d do looking, you wound up somehow in your brother’s best friend’s bed. Seungcheol, was it? You really have no fear, do you? All while your family was all downstairs, you were getting your desserts while everyone was preparing for dinner, wondering where you were.
Or when it was time to go down by the beach and you had a little adventure in the dressing room of ‘Martha’s Swimsuit Boutique.’ The employees blamed the sounds on the old building fixtures or whatever was happening next door, but I knew what was happening in there. Hell, every person with working ears knew what was happening in there. 
Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to forget you, to stop loving you, to forget you and how much you’ve hurt me. But I can't. No matter how much I want to or how many times I try, you're in my blood now. You're in my head, under my skin, and I can't rip you out. I don’t even want to.
You’re a part of me I can’t remove, like a vital organ. I just want you. I need you. I breathe you. If you want to do so much, I would take you right there on the dining table and wouldn’t care who watched, just to please you. Feel, taste, pound every part of you, from the red in your veins to cum that would flood in between my gums.
I  D O N T  K N O W  H O W  M U C H  L O N G E R  I  C A N  W A I T.
Entry # 237 - July 20th: At the end of the day, you want love too.
There’s no need to cry. He was never meant to have you is all. I must commend your brother. He beat that boy harder than I expected him to, but then again I would do a lot worse.
He didn’t deserve to have your heart. He was an idiot. I would never be like him. And you’ll realize that soon enough.
I would show you so much more. I can be so much more. I am so much more. My darling, I would travel to the next galaxy to have you, give you all that you desire, and make it so that the only tears you shed are the ones in bed when I prove to you how much you’re mine as much as I am yours.
Entry # 242 - July 25th: Today is the day.
Preemptively, I decided to go with a scent you’re familiar with. You've held out for weeks, even months, since your miraculous escape on July 20th. You’re stronger now, more confident, self-assured. very mindful, very demure. I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist saying it—just like you’ve repeated since locking yourself away. It’s cute, really. This whole ‘recovery’ thing, it suits you.
It’s like you were made to pique my interest and appetite. Even right now, as you’re outside the window of this restaurant, unsure if you want to enter because this was the one you’d frequent so often with him. Your favorite place to be since you were a little one. 
I still can’t believe you decided to move back home. As if he hadn’t hurt you enough, you breathe the air he does? Watching him engage with the pretty blonde on his arm will not heal you, my sweet Angel. It is wrecking you. You should’ve left when you had planned to then.
I picked up my life and ran after you because I worried so much. I worried what would happen if I weren’t around to be with you. To make sure you’re okay. But I won’t have to anymore.
Today, I pretended to pick up a book you dropped to make eye contact with you, slipping a secret message I left on a Post-it inside. I hope you read it. I hope you reciprocate. And if you don’t, it had been all for nothing.
I’d be nothing.
Entry # 243 - July 26th: I love you.
You answered back, just like I thought you would.
“Hi :)” you said, with that cute emoji thing you do. How adorable. 
For a moment I was worried, you wouldn’t but only a moment I promise. I would never doubt you. I have entire faith in you, you’d realize what this is. The fire I have burning for you. 
I’m glad you’re giving us the chance to realize what we’re meant to be. I can’t wait for our first date. I’m so excited, I don’t even know what to write for today. I just want to live in the bliss of knowing that you finally see me. See me.
Entry # 244 - July 27th: You couldn't wait, and I almost gave in.
You tried kissing me. Put your hand on my thigh. Brushing against my–
I can’t be impatient. This journey can’t be rushed. No matter how much I want to push your head into the mattress and split you in half as you’re calling out my name.
The sooner I give in, the easier it is to make me a rebound. And I am no rebound.
I am meant to be your eternal. Your other half. Your perfect opposite.
Sleeping with you as soon as tonight would’ve tainted our beginning. You mean so much more to me than that. 
Just know I want you so bad. I want to get to know you. I want to see you. For our future to start, we need to start this off right. You’ve signed up for a slow burn, my darling.
We are worth the wait.
Entry # 255 - August 7th: I love you more than I realize.
We are so good together. Even if the bag boy decides to flirt with you in front of me, and even if you entertain it a little, thinking I wouldn’t see.
You’re trying to punish me for being disciplined. It’s funny. The things I could do to punish you for testing my patience. Don’t pretend to be all innocent when you bend your ass towards me, leaning up against the conveyer belt to show off both your…assets. Give a show to me and that loud vest-wearing scum.
You think you’re so clever. So sneaky. And maybe you are. You’ve made quite the effort to conceal the truth about your previous relations. I like to think you’re doing it for me. For my sake. Because you’re so considerate. But I know the truth my darling. I know all I need to know about you. But I appreciate your efforts.
You really do love me. And somehow, I love you even more.
Entry # 297 - September 18th: You miss him.
You saw him today, and although you hid it, I could see it in your eyes. You miss him still. Like he was a scar etched into you, or a blood stain that was impossible to get out. 
Did I have to kill him to rid you of thoughts of him? End your suffering by ending his life. It would be easy. So so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so easy.
I just can’t stand the way you look at him. A mere boy when a man like me is beside you.
Making you wait feels almost impossible now. Who the hell am I kidding? I’m the one who's waiting.
I just had to do one last thing before. Just one more thing. By then it would be final. And it would just be us. Forever.
-
You had been seeing Joshua for just a few months, but he was different from the guys you’ve met before. A genuinely good guy. Gentlemanly, even. You found it cute and maybe hot–absolutely hot. Nothing more attractive than knowing a man can keep his hands to himself.
But now, you found yourself wondering if he had not initiated because of something else. Since you’ve met, he’s always been the perfect gentleman, polite and thoughtful in a refreshing and frustrating way. It’s rare to meet a man who doesn’t leap at the chance to get you into bed, and while you found his restraint enticing and irresistible, it also left you questioning whether he’s just being courteous—or if he’s doing it on purpose to ward you off.
You’ve given Joshua every hint imaginable. The thong peeking out from your jeans when you bent over, the casual unbuttoning of your top whenever his eyes drifted your way—each move deliberate, strategic. You even threw in your signature look, those smoldering eyes that always did the trick, scanning his body as if you could ravage him whole, and you would. It had a flawless track record. Until Joshua, that is.
It made you want him more. Like he was making you wait, beg for his attention. Made you forget for a moment you were crying over Seungcheol some time ago. As if your heart didn’t shatter into a million pieces shortly before meeting Joshua.
Even when you saw Seungcheol briefly–so briefly–a part of you still missed your ex, but you craved being in Joshua’s arms more. Like medicine. Joshua was your medicine.
God, you needed him so fucking viscerally.
That’s when you decided. No more beating around the bush this time. It’s been four months too long. You had to have this man.
You decided to make a surprise appearance at his place–the address you just happened to "discover" on his driver’s license when he wasn’t paying attention. And, of course, you showed up wearing something kind of insane.
You know those movie scenes where the sexy love interest throws on an oversized trench coat with barely anything underneath, or sometimes nothing at all? Yeah, well... you decided to try that. And now you’re waiting outside of his apartment building in the autumn weather–freezing your literal ass off–waiting for him to get home to give him the surprise of his life.
It had been over an hour, and with each exhale, your breath hung in the air, a visible reminder of the cold.  You hugged your coat tighter around your body, clutching it like it was the only barrier between you and freezing to death. And honestly, it might as well have been. Standing outside his building in practically nothing had your heart racing for all the wrong reasons.
Here you were trying to be all cutesy, sexy, and fun, and this damn man wasn’t even home. Were you out of your mind?
The anxiety was creeping in. The biting autumn air had found every exposed inch of your skin, and your confidence was sinking fast. Just when you were ready to leave this cringe-fest waiting to happen, and retreat to the warmth of your own home, you heard footsteps approaching from down the street. Your pulse quickened as you glanced up, and there he was, walking towards you in a long dark coat and sweater.
Joshua’s eyes met yours, his expression shifting from confusion to slow realization as registered you from his distance, watching you stand there bundled in your trench coat with something obviously beneath it. His lips parted slightly, his brow furrowed, but there was no judgment—just surprise, and more so curiosity.
You instinctively tightened your grip on the coat, pulling it closer around your nearly bare body as you leaned against the wooden front door that had been stubbornly keeping you outside. “Hey,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly in the cold, watching your breath materialize in the air as a delicate cloud of frost.
“Hi?” His tone was cautious but amused as if he was trying to piece together exactly what was waiting at his doorstep. He shoved his leather-gloved hands into the pockets of his own coat, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is...unexpected. What are you doing here?”
You let out a shaky laugh, nerves bubbling up as you shifted on your feet, your bare thighs scraping against one another as they clenched. “Yeah, so... there’s a really good explanation for all of this, but, um...” You glanced down at yourself, then back up at him, feeling more exposed than ever. “Can I come in first?”
His place was disturbingly neat—psychopathically neat. It was the kind of spotless where everything seemed too perfect, like someone with more than a few screws loose needed complete control over their space. Every surface gleamed, not a speck of dust or a misplaced item in sight.
“Want something warm? Tea, maybe?” He politely offered with a warm smile.
You found yourself mirroring his smile, a giddy excitement bubbling inside you like a teenager with a crush. With a light skip, you made your way back toward him, the trench coat swaying around you like an oversized brown paper bag—so tempting to just shed it. “That sounds really nice. Anything would be good.”
“Okay. I’ll put on some Earl Grey for you.” His lingering smilewas the last thing you see before he disappeared in the kitchen, giving you the opportunity to learn more about the owner of the home.
Nothing was out of place. The walls were a sterile beige, devoid of any warmth or personality, while the furniture radiated with an unsettling shine that suggested it had never truly been used. Not a single wrapper marred the coffee table, nor was there a crumb in sight—everything was meticulously arranged as if he harbored an unyielding aversion to disorder. It felt more like a stage set than a home, the kind of place that made you wonder if anyone actually lived here, especially given the spontaneity of your intrusion.
Your blood ran cold. The longer you scanned the room, the more strange it felt to be standing there. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as unease settled in. You suddenly found yourself questioning why he was taking so long with the tea.
Your toes curled in discomfort as you glanced over to where Joshua had disappeared, and just then, he emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of steaming hot tea in either hand. He set them down on the coffee table with a practiced ease and settled onto the pristine couch behind him. “Have a seat. We can wait while the tea steeps.”
You nodded, a tight look on your face, and lowered yourself onto the couch beside him, accepting a cup and sipping on its deeply rich content. “Thank you.”
“Now, what brought you over here? I’m surprised you managed to find out where I lived...considering I never told you,” he said, his expression blank as he nursed his cup in his hands.
“Well,” you began, swallowing hard as the heat from the tea scalded your tongue and burned its way down your throat. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this, but…I found your driver’s license when it fell out of your wallet on one of our dates, and I kind of memorized your address? I thought I’d surprise you.” You paused, a nervous laugh escaping. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”
He set his tea at the corner of the coffee table, and clasped his hands together, a teasing glint in his eyes hearing your confession. “Well... I commend you for not only your bravery in the doing and admitting fault, but it’s not that weird, actually. It’s kind of flattering.”
“Really? But I invaded your privacy. That’s invasive—almost illegal, isn’t it?” 
For a fleeting moment, you swore you saw his fists clench, but then one of his hands slid over yours, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckle, quickening your heart rate. “But if I say it’s okay, then it’s okay. Right?”
Also, setting your tea aside, your other hand instinctively fell on top of his, the earlier discomfort and worry fading into the background. “I guess so.”
He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. “You look cold. Would you like a hug to warm you up?”
“S-sure,” you managed to stutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you accepted his invitation.
As his arms enveloped you, you felt the raw strength he kept hidden beneath the layers of clothing. The warmth radiated from his body, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tightened his embrace around you, holding you protectively–possessively even. You breathed in his scent, registering his cologne you were all too familiar with and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. For a moment, every trace of anxiety disappeared. Joshua had a way of making you feel secure again, of restoring that sense of safety you hadn't realized was what you were in search of.
You leaned into it, your breath fanning over the skin of his neck as your hand roamed up his back, eager to peel off his physical and mental layers keeping you from devouring him with reckless abandon. You wanted to pull him closer, to feel the reassuring weight of his body against yours, like your own personal shield. The conflicting urge to consume him entirely, to the point of exhaustion, while simultaneously cherishing every part of him was a dilemma you never anticipated facing—especially so soon after a breakup. Joshua stirred something deep within you, something you couldn’t even begin to explain, no matter how hard you tried.
When he let you go, the absence of his warmth was immediate, but the kind smile on his face remained as if reassuring you that everything was fine. “Better?”
“Yeah. That was nice,” you whispered, still holding his hands, both large and perfect.
“Good. Now. What was this surprise that couldn’t wait for a text or phone call?”
Now, a wave of nerves washed over you once more.
Your hands fiddled with the straps keeping your attire in place, and you hesitated before standing before him, mustering up the final bit of courage you had left in place of your dignity. “Well, I wasn’t quite sure if you were just being the polite gentleman who could ‘do no wrong’ or if you’d been completely oblivious to the hints I’ve been throwing your way since our first date. But I’m here making it as clear as possible for you, Joshua Hong.”
With a determined tug, you loosened the tie that held your closure in place, letting it slip from its knot and revealing the reason you felt goosebumps up your legs. Your breasts bulged out of the lacy fabric, leaving almost nothing to the imagination and hugging parts of your body the man before you had only seen in passing through a window. The pillowy flesh spilling from your decorated underwear left him with a sensation that wrapped around Joshua’s throat and clenched.
He couldn’t feel himself breathing, drinking in your exposed skin, admiring the bright white of the lingerie complimenting your skin as it clung on to you seamlessly, while the trench coat finally found itself where it belonged on the ground. He sank the couch behind him as you came closer, wordlessly tracing every curve, dotting every mole, noting every mark or scar as you loomed over him in feigned innocence. The only air he could draw was his ragged breath, his hands aching to touch you.
“I would love nothing more than to have your hands all over me,” You said with a sultry edge, dripping with obvious intent.
Your knee dug into the couch's cushion, the other following and taking residence in Joshua’s lap as he simply watched. His eyes softly blinked back up at you as you settled into him, having him melt under every word you spoke.
“Is that so?” He asked calmly, physically refraining himself, and ignoring the dark thoughts clouding his logic.
You threw your arms around his neck, gazing down at him as you shifted in his lap. “I do. It’s all I can ever think about anymore. Ever since these last four months.”
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, like steam escaping from a kettle.
“Is that all you have to say?” 
“...Am I supposed to say something more?”
“How about–I don’t know. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that the whole time,’ or ‘I feel the exact same way, tongue wrestle me until we pass out.’ Give me something,” You begged.
He shrugged, playing up his ignorance. “Doesn’t sound like me? Does it?”
“Is this really all you can talk about? A girl in her best lacy underwear–in white mind you–sitting in your lap like she’s accepting ones in a night club, and you’re fixated on your characterization?”
He shrugged again as if taunting you, the smile on his face growing sinister at your agitation. “I have poor depth perception.”
You groaned, your body feeling heavy as you slumped against him, ready to slide off his lap in defeat. “I give up.”
But just as you were about to peel away from him, you felt a firm pair of hands steady you, anchoring you in place. Joshua’s eyes sharpened as his grip tightened, fitting your body in the curves of his palms. “Where do you think you’re going?”
You blinked back at him, confused yet oddly at home in his touch, despite the rapid beat of your heart suggesting otherwise. “I thought–I kinda thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” you reluctantly answered.
His cool palm slid against your flushed skin, trailing up your body and igniting a path of fire that battled the waves of chills following up your spine. Instinctively, you fell forward, involuntarily pressing your lace-clad chest against the cashmere of his sweater and finding purchase back around his broad shoulders, which looked bigger than usual. A soft squeak passed your lips as he tugged you towards, fitting your bodies together like pieces of a puzzle.
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” His hands grasped the sides of your thighs as he tucked them around his torso, not once breaking eye contact. 
You felt a cold sweat trickle down your skin, your body stiffening as you focused solely on the soothing tenor of Joshua’s voice. “I always see how you look at me, Angel.” His fingers carded through your hair, pushing it to one side and delicately grazing over the fullness of your breast. “And I love how you look at me.”
“Josh,” Your voice emerged softer than you expected, almost tinged with a plea as you drew closer.
“And believe me when I say this, darling, I’ll always want something to do with you. I want everything to do with you…if you let me.”
You felt his hand somewhere you’ve only ever imagined: at the hook of your bra before he slowly started to unlatch it, the straps falling off your shoulders as your support came undone. You were grateful to be pressed so close to him. Otherwise, your entire upper body would be entirely nude. Entirely exposed. You tucked your arm over your chest, gaze dropping at the perceived proximity until Joshua gently moved you by the chin to meet his eyes.
“Don’t.” He quietly demanded, purposefully moving away, and the undergarment fell from your body, your nipples christened by the chill air conditioning. “So perfect.”
His hand hovered over their shape, only ghosting over them but not nearly touching, yet either bud tensed at their mere presence. You exhaled shakily, your breath uneven and impatient, as your eyes suddenly drifted away, overwhelmed by an unexpected rush from his uncharacteristic attention.
“You don’t want to know how much I imagined putting you in my mouth.” His pursed lips landed on your collarbone in an open mouth kiss, gently pulling you between his lips.
You softly moaned, unfurling your digits before they slid up his neck. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t do anything but—you felt his mouth latch onto you, teeth burying into your flesh. You parted your lip in another moan, instinctively reacting to the familiar concoction of pain and pleasure exhibited by previous partners, but this was Joshua. Gentlemanly Joshua.
He bared his hand flat against your back, dipping your body towards the coffee table and pressing urgent kisses to the hollow of your neck, lingering against the pulse of your throat and digging his hips into your pelvis. Your hand roamed over his body, cradling his head and pressing him closer against you as your knee hooked around his waist. 
Joshua swung his hand behind you, knocking over the mugs with a loud crash, sending tea spilling everywhere on the ground as the flat surface of the coffee table urgently met your exposed back. It stung how cold it initially was until the weight of his body stunned you, leaving you impervious to everything else. He grabbed your side, wrestling with the skin of your clavicle as his hand ran harshly over your erect buds, grinding them under his palm.
In between your legs, you felt warmth—the kind that makes a show when you could only think of being rammed at 100 miles an hour—and you felt it soak in the fabric of the lace, flossed between your folds when you were desperate for friction. “Joshua, please…” you cried.
He shoved away the useless bra now just hanging off your body before his lips curled around the curve of your breasts, kissing their underside as his thumbs fiddled with their sensitivity. Your knees bent towards you, your hips pulsating against his thigh as his tongue taunted you, flicking over the texture of your nipples and nipping at the tips as he pulled with his teeth.  You whimpered, body falling limp on the table as he nursed you between his lips, his eyes piercing back at you lewdly as an occasional moan would leave his lips.
“Tell me how you like it. Teach me.” He spoke with a quiet, commanding authority.
“Y-you seem to be doing a good job so far.”
He smiled, running his hand through your hair before it gripped between his knuckles, sending a rush of ache from your scalp. Your eyes shot up to meet his, a blend of fear and arousal flashing through them, but you were quickly soothed by the gaze he held, sultry and unshakable. “Should I be mean then?” He offered.
You let out a brief yelp after his hand swatted over your plush thigh, your flesh spilling between his fingers as he squeezed. The bridge of your nose touched your speechless expression, lips tracing over your face with a deep exhale. “Give you the kind of things you want? What I learned about you?”
“What have y-you learned?” you hesitated to ask.
His eyes glazed over you, seeing you melt at a simple glance before tenderly pressing his lips to yours, only sampling. You mewled in the depths of your throat, lips falling open as you kissed him for the first time, succumbing to the pillowy texture of his lips. His eyes partially open, he fixed his eyes on your features, how they contorted with his touch, reacting involuntarily to the rocking of his body against you. He was obsessed with the mere image of you.
“What I’ve learned, hmm,” he quietly pondered. 
Giving him time to think, your hand cupped over his attached to your thigh, guiding it under you and around your ass, letting his digits outline the curve of your body. He chuckled and brought the other hand parallel, following his carnal urge to clutch you tightly in his grip. A smile melted on your face briefly, enjoying the sensation of his hands before he roughly pulled down your underwear before you could even gasp, leaving you truly naked. 
“I’ve learned that when you want something, you take it.” His hands come down to the bottom of his sweater and pull it along with what’s underneath off of him. 
His glistening tan reflected back at you, beads of perspiration coating his skin—likely a result of months of tension finally unfolding. As you took him in for the first time, the way the light and shadows sculpted his form accentuated his physique, leaving you stunned and curious about what else he might’ve been hiding from you.
“So take what you want from me, Angel.” 
God, you really could swallow him whole in a single gulp.
You repositioned yourself, planted your knees on the table, and tugged him by his belt. Your once pleading eyes became determined as you fixated on tearing off his pants, starting by unbuckling his belt at the waist. Your eyes fluttered, seeing the bulge through his briefs, twitching in your presence while you fit a finger at the top hem. A sigh escaped you; glance briefly up at Joshua’s expression–full of patient anticipation–before wrapping your hands around his aroused girth.
“...You’ve been waiting for me,” you began to realize, seeing the cock firm up in your grasp.
He let out an amused hum, stroking the side of your head. “I wanted to make sure you wanted me.”
“Of course, I wanted you.” Your hand ran along his shaft, veins pulsing on the ball of your palm, and you pressed the head to your lips. “I just wanted you to show me you wanted me.”
Joshua’s groans barely escaped as your lips curved around the tip and more than gently kissed. His hand clasped around your head, moving it so your eyes could face his, seeing him come apart in front of you. From just your teasing. “Darling, if I did that…I’d never know when to stop.”
“Joshua. I’d never ask you to stop.”
His hand cupped your face, and you melted into his palm–absolutely reveling in the blind infatuation on your face before he made you face his arousal, cock grazing your chin before he pressed it past your lips. Your lips stretched around him like a rubber band, expanding to conquer his size but not with ease. Your hand covered his base and enveloping his length as much as you could.
“Angel,” he grunted.
He claimed the back of your head, leading your pace as you took him. Your hands clasped around his hips, fastening yourself to him. You could already feel your drool drip alongside your chin, becoming sloppy as you were fixated on his complexion: blissed with parted lips, looking at you like he’d been touched for the first time.
Your moans vibrated around him as he thrusted into you, momentarily breaching the air of his pelvis before he pulled you back, flicking his hips into your mouth and overcome with ecstasy. “My good little Angel,” he groans, breath hitching in his throat. “Taking my cock like you were made for me.”
He tugged your hair tighter as you felt the hilt hit the back of your throat, and you thought to yourself how much It would’ve hurt if you weren’t otherwise drunk with bliss. You buried him deep inside you, holding him with both hands, sobbing on him with such anguish that people would assume you hadn’t been fed for days. 
Joshua’s pretty lips got caught in his pretty teeth, and the darkness in his eyes deepened to a richer, more intense black as a sense of reckless abandon enveloped him. “God…look at you…good little slut like you likes taking cock like mine, doesn’t she?”
The sensation of your mouth massaged him heavenly, having you taste the heady tang of his skin on your tongue while your nose tickled against his groin. He clutched your head, your whimpers and cries pulsating around his girth, fucking your mouth until you hit the base. You looked up, pliant and willing, as tears swelled in your eyes, cheeks hot to the touch, and a thick sheen of slobber over your lips. 
You’re precious. And his. All his.
He pried either of your hands off him and restrained them above your head, carrying the weight of his control in his hips, crushing your mouth against his lap. While one hand had stabilized your wrists, the other back fell back in your hair, fucking your pretty mouth until he couldn’t anymore.
Joshua felt his name muffled around his cock, staring back at you as you repeated his name, desperation echoing from your throat, but not to stop–oh no, he recognized this stare. He held you towards him, cutting your airways with hardly a second to breathe. Your eyes fluttered. Pupils began to roll to the back of your head as his cock slid down your throat, bottoming out inside you for the first time.
“You want my cum, don’t you? You’re so damn obvious you do,” he taunted in an unfamiliar tone, foreign to you but nonetheless welcome.
You hummed confirmation around the girth, practically whining with full cheeks.
“Angel, you know what it means when I do, right?” he loomed over you, as your mouth was still pressed against him in an abrupt halt, still tasting all of him. “Do you understand what you’re getting into? The second I cum inside you–mouth or cunt–you’re mine. Are you ready for that responsibility?”
You nodded, impatience singeing your tongue.
“Really?” The fingers threaded through your hair pulled you off, giving you the sharpest intake of oxygen before you fell right back where you belonged with a slam. The pain in your throat caused it to go hoarse, and the tears once swelling in your eyes streamed down your face. “You better mean it, darling. Words aren’t just a promise to me; they’re a vow.”
His final thrusts were steady but harsh, pressing his size inside of you until you gagged, and finally, when he was merciful, you felt his hot stream coat your throat. His hips found their falter, plunging in and out of you–the cum dribbling down your chin until he finally let you go, prying you off him and giving you a moment of rest sprawled on the coffee table.
But only a moment.
His hands wordlessly caressed you, body drained from release, but mind hungry for your essence. Every word he’s ever said in this exchange, he’s meant with every fiber of his being, down to his very core.
“Tired, darling? We’re only getting started.”
You softly chuckled, a tired smile reappearing for the first time in a while. “I’m in for a lot with you, aren’t I?” you asked, strain evident in your voice.
“You’re asking that question far too little too late, Angel.”
His lips puckered to met yours in a gentle kiss, then another, then another. You held him against you, not minding how disheveled you looked with your pulled hair and mascara streaks staining your cheeks, it was your turn. 
Joshua found your body easily in your liplock, gliding his hands up and down your body in rushed motions as if memorizing you by touch. Your dips, your curves, your angles. There wasn’t one part of you he dared to miss. And you smiled, you chuckled, so lust blind to see the symptoms forming before your very eyes as if they weren’t already there. He swallowed your laughter, tasting victory on your tongue, and nuzzled in the crook of your lips. “Can I do the things I'm willing to do for you–what I’m willing to do to you?”
You cupped his face, an impish grin on your face. “Stop asking and fuck me like you love me, Joshua.”
Gladly. 
He held either of your legs at his side, fingers aligning your folds and splitting in half. If they didn’t already look big, they most certainly felt big. A single digit only traced along your slit, and your hips buckled, fluttering at the sliver of taste. 
“I’ve barely grazed you, and you’re like a flood down there,” he quietly teased, pushing in his index halfway. 
You clenched around him, then around nothing, and he repeated, effortlessly stealing your breath with every move. You anchored yourself to the edge of the table. “You know exactly why, Josh.” You whimpered.
He then pushes in the full digit–reaching deeper than you expected–and you convulse around him. Your head snapped back, the phantom strings of Joshua’s nasty habits–already acquainted with your body–pulling you in without warning. “Oh my god.”
“You’re so easy to please. As if I know everything about your body without you telling me.” He thrusted his finger, cultivating a rhythm he knew would be perfect for his little darling.
“It’s as if…we’ve known each other forever.” You stated in your countless, staggered breaths.
“Forever…” he plunged another finger, feeling you flutter around him delightfully, “with you?”
His smile, that unsettling perfect smile, pressed a tender kiss against your lips. “I rather like that. Me and you. Forever.”
You quietly laughed before tugging him into a deeper liplock, gently slotting your finger through his hair, not worried about ruining its pristine as you pulled him closer. “I’ll take you and me forever.”
“Now, angel–” you took the hand he had inside you to guide him faster, deeper, your language becoming gasps and moans in a matter of seconds.
He didn’t bother finishing his thought, too enraptured by your demanding hunger, that he pressed on further, feeding you his digits as you swallowed each one by one. His thumb caressed your pulsating bud for extra good measure, taking pleasure at how often you shake when he does, and rammed his fingers deeper in you, finally hearing what his name sounds like in a state of bliss.
He’s overcome with pride–nay–overcome with triumph. The way you look at him with such an utterly lewd expression, your delicious scent a thick film on your body that he couldn’t help but want to lick and devour and engorge. He didn’t need to have another orgasm for another second if it meant seeing you come apart the way you were right now. 
“Joshua!” you cried, body shaking as if you were glitching, having an out-of-body experience, and you undid yourself the way he did: utterly and perfectly euphoric.
You creamed his digits with nectar, milky and fair, and he didn’t wait a second for them to enter his mouth, knuckles deep. His eyes fell shut from elation, moaning around his hands, and he caught even the slightest drop down his wrists. 
You were fucking–
“Magnificent.” He swallowed your lips once more, hungrily, arousal rushing down to his body again. “Perfect, my sweet little angel.”
“...forever. Me and you.” You repeated, not getting pass the conversation that was interrupted what felt like a millennia ago. “I’ll take you for forever. And that’s a vow for me, too.”
Joshua never expected this, such a scene of ease and pristine, seeing his future lie limp and happy and fucked. You had never looked so beautiful. After all the men you’ve met, all the bodies you’ve collided with, all the dicks you’ve sucked, you always had a glow. It’s why he tolerated such things, but to see that glow after him. It was the most radiating version of you. And to know you’ll have him. He was the happiest man alive.
“Oh, my darling.” He pulled you up from the table to sit you back in his lap, parting away your hair to clearly see your face smiling back at him even with the fatigue. “You are the most perfect thing.” he shook his head in disbelief, unsure how he got so lucky.
“Let me take you to bed, hmm?”
You quietly nodded, admiring him back all the same.
You wrapped your legs around him tightly, before lifting you both up from the ground and walked into his bedroom–just as unnervingly neat as his living room. Or should you say how neat it was. The bedroom presented its same beige aura, hardly a spec of dust in place, but the one extraordinary thing about it was the light casting from the window, beckoning over the entire city. 
The second Joshua tossed your naked body on his bed, you immediately got back up, pressing your palms to the window to gaze down upon everyone through it. “You can actually see everything from up here! Wow.”
You heard Joshua chuckle behind you with his footsteps towards you to follow. “You like it, Angel?”
“It’s beautiful.” The glint in your eyes sparkled brighter than any star above you. “I’ve lived here almost my whole life and I’ve never seen it like this. I can even see my house from here! That's crazy.”
Joshua let out an indistinguishable scoff, immediately covering his mouth before coming behind you, his hand settling on your hips. “I got lucky with the lease. Best I’ve ever seen. I never thought to appreciate this view, but now I have a reason to.” 
His kiss bloomed a familiar warmth across your face, and you leaned into his embrace, taking his arms around you as you shared the impeccable view. The city lights illuminated the streets, their people, their livelihood, and you never would’ve imagined seeing it if you hadn’t found Joshua’s address. 
You belonged here somehow, as if it was meant for you. It truly did feel special. Joshua made it special.
You brushed your backside to his groin, feeling something already prod your side and you swore you felt yourself purr. Bodies still connected, you leaned into the glass, knee digging into the cushions of the window nook. Joshua followed after you knowingly, hand pawing your thigh as his lips drew to your ear, nipping at the tips. 
Your moan, deliciously loud, was all the signal Joshua needed to keep going. He mouthed against your neck, one hand crawling over your chest and another reclaiming your sensitive heat. You doubled over slightly, palming and smearing your fingerprints into the flawlessly clear glass, its chill not disrupting the heat festering your body in the slightest. 
Joshua had your body thrum in reaction to his fingers, hips wriggling to his touch, and he heightened the strokes on your already throbbing heat. “Josh, please.”
He groaned into the crook of your neck, the outline of his erect cock distinctly recognizable against your lower back. “I want to show whoever’s watching what you’ve done to me, Angel.” he slammed his fingers upright inside you before returning to his regulated pace. “Show what pretty little slut you become when you’re within reach of me.”
“Anything, Josh, anything. Anything for you to fuck me.”
He snickered, an empty darkness echoing inside the tone. “You asked for it.”
His body slammed up against you, hungrily biting along your skin as he nestled his cock between your slit as he entered. You sooner realized how fingers did his size no justice as they filled your cunt with strain. Your ass perked up behind him, not a moment longer before you were forced to adjust to his size with full thrust, holding you by your neck as his other arm cuffed you by your elbows.
“Holy shit,” you gasped, falling and bouncing back against him as his raw cock took you demandingly.
“This pussy,” he growled, his hand striking the full shape of your ass cheek where it still stung, “I’ve dreamt of this pussy.”
He buried himself in you, hitting the hilt deep with your core to the point your vision flickered back to your skull. Your legs parted wide, backing yourself against him until you were accepting every inch. “Fuck that feels so fucking good, don’t fucking stop.”
“Yeah? My slutty angel likes my cock pounding into her pretty pussy?”
“Yes, please, Josh, please give it to me. I love how you give it to me so good.”
“You beg like that,” he gritted his teeth. “I’ll have to properly deliver.”
You looked back at him and smiled, hair falling over your face and his thrusts made you a vision of lust, somehow gracefully breathtaking with his cock buried deep inside you. “You and me forever, right? Don’t stop now.”
Joshua was throbbing, practically beaming at your answer, and before you knew it, your chest was greeted with the frost-bitten window, now flattening against your breasts. Groaning upon impact, the tempered glass tensed your nipples, bringing them both to a hard point, now freezing and pebbling you from your arms to your legs. 
Joshua’s body pinned you in place, and you felt his unnerving arousal slide up and down between your cheeks and pushing back up inside you. “I’ll show just how much you’re mine to the world.” His voice was still gentle yet demanding. “Only because you asked for it.”
His flat palm struck you again, pushing up your body and letting the echoes of your collision play in surround sound. Your body, already sore from earlier, knew no rest as you took him deeper, the cold intensifying the pleasure rushing through your body. Your hips swiveled, playing with his cock like a personal toy, and you braced the window in front of you willingly, blasting on an indefinite high.
“Thinking about how someone can see you up here?” He whispered. “Taking my cock like the precious little angel you are? Or letting me fuck you like the nasty fucking slut you are?”
You gingerly nodded, hugging the glass desperately to feel him deeper inside you.“Yes—fuck—I want someone to see us. The thought gets me so wet.”
“So vocal, angel,” he tugged the back of your head, devouring your lips. “My dirty little angel.”
He held your arms behind you, pressing your whole torso against the window, and every snap of his waist had you bending more and more to his will. Every inch of his body had you flushed against him, feeling him present you to the world below like a goddamn masterpiece.
His body slammed again, shaking the glass and flickering fear into your eyes briefly before he reassured you by catching your waist in his hands. “Scared?”
“A little,” you stammered.
“I’ve got you, angel. Just enjoy it.”
And you did, endlessly as his pace picked up again, and by the number of times he’s pushed you, flipped you, rammed you against the window, you were no longer scared of falling through. The fragility of the glass was no longer of concern. You had Joshua to distract you from the life-threatening circumstances with every inch of his being.  You had Joshua to protect you from the infinite possibilities of something were to go wrong with the window in front of you shattering. You had Joshua to feel safe no matter how scared and unsure you were. You had Joshua.
Joshua. Joshua. Joshua.
“Joshua, you’re gonna make me cum,” you mewled in his lap. Your ass took its turn to be displayed as your flesh pressed against the thick glass, bouncing on his cock that stiffened up to no bounds inside you.
“Are you? Your pretty pussy is gonna come all over my cock?” His voice now rushed, heightened, signaling how ready he was to burst like fucking dam.
Your nod carried urgency, your hands clasping against his face in desperate pleas, admiring that face you’ve grown fond of, how you could see both light and darkness in them, filling you to the brim with an inexplicable euphoria that you craved with everybody you’ve ever encountered. “I want it. I want to come all over your cock and feel you come inside me too…Make me feel so good so full.”
“Yeah,” he moaned, hand threading through your hair tightly, you hummed in confirmation, bouncing harder as you dared take him by his full length. “This the best cock you ever had? The best one to put my hot cum inside you.”
“Yes,” you gasped. “No one else…no one else can fuck me like you like this. I want you to fill me with all your hot cum.”
“S-shit,” he cried, tugging your back by the wrists, and fucking up into you, the window behind you christened with your sweat and slick arousal.
He ached to cover all his bases, pounding you to malleable dough, he filled your walls with his oozing determination, and his screams of release followed when he shot his promise inside you. His hips faltered in deep, thorough pumps, claiming your body in his hands with intense anguish as he inhaled your skin in his tight, unwavering embrace.
You felt the warmth inside and out of you, like a rapid stream of water—only more viscous and rewarding as your hips bucked, twitching in Joshua’s locking hold, hardly breathing with the way he held you. You wrapped around him just as tight, letting go of him the last thing on your mind and savoring the trembling descent of your peaks.
There are then only sounds of your exchanged breathing, slowly coming down to Earth. 
He lowered his forearms, bracing you from your lower back, and carefully lifted you from the nook to carefully lay you against his bed that felt like heaven enveloping your body. He crawled on top of you still, descending lingering kisses all along your body before his lips reached your tired heat, not even thinking of pleasuring you but doing it anyway as he lapped up the final remnants of tonight’s events.
His hums were pleasant vibration, wordlessly tasting every ounce of cum—yours or his, it didn’t matter—and swallowing it like a full meal, gently caressing your swollen clit. He couldn’t have enough of you, letting the brain fog control him until you started screaming in pleasure again.
You had to pull him by threads of his hair to stop, overstimulated by his unwavering hunger, and for a second that darkness was back in his eyes the deepest you had ever seen until they softened in concern, his grip loosening. “You okay?” he wafted in with concern.
“Yeah, it felt good, I just…you’re gonna kill me,” you lightly joked.
He softly laughed, leveraging him up and facing chest to chest with you, devouring your lips with that lingering tang of dominance still on his tongue. “Never…” he whispered with a smile, before he inhaled you for a moment longer, swallowing your moans, caressing your body.
He finally found his self-restraint and let you rest, offering to run a warm bath in the hallway bathroom. You turned to him, taking his hand in gratitude. “That would be really nice.”
“I’ll start one up for you.” 
As he leaves, you sink into the bed, reveling in the sheets worn from your presence, and hear the water run in another room, smelling of the clean seat of soap, and nothing has ever felt so right.
“I’ll carry you,” he stated before picking you up from your neck and back to your knees into the bathroom that was another vision of perfection, lit candles marking your path. 
You gushed in disbelief, your body finally dipping to the perfect temperature as you were surrounded with rose petals and bubbles. Almost as if he planned this. Like he knew what to do and how to exactly do it.
“How is it?” He asked, hospitality being of second nature. “Warm enough? Water deep enough?”
You gripped the edge of the tub to gaze back at him, bent down to meet your level with a soft, adoring smile as the water splashed against you soothed your aching body. “Who are you, Joshua Hong?”
He snickered, kissing the top of your head without answer. “I’m gonna let you be on your own for a moment, to really give your rest and after I clean up outside, maybe I’ll join you. Just…don’t go anywhere.”
You nodded, initiating a chaste kiss on his lips. “I won't.”
“Good girl.” His smile had never gotten so big, kissing you back with double the force before he got up to leave.
“Leave the door open,” you requested, “just in case you wanted…a nice image welcoming you back.”
“Alright,” he said, eyes lingering on your state before finally taking his leave.
Joshua had his fun in the sun, clinging to every second of this perfect night, but he needed to clean up one more thing before it could truly end perfectly. The kitchen, if you could see it, was clean and pristine as the rest of the house goddamn near was until you helped him wreck it, except one thing just of place.
He glanced at the hunting knife in the sink, carelessly rinsed after he didn’t think he had time to properly clean in your company. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, realizing how long the metal had soaked in the water. He reached into the cabinet for cleaning supplies, his mind racing.
Dousing a rag with isopropyl, he carefully wiped every surface, hoping no streaks were left on the metal, almost failing to notice the blood ironically staining the stainless steel of his sink, to which he scrubbed and scrubbed with conviction. He couldn’t help but be grateful for your lack of awareness, the thought of entering your kitchen not crossing your mind a moment this entire visit. It’s why he loved you. You didn’t ask unnecessary questions. You kept to yourself for the most part despite your rendevous. And you weren’t trouble. he couldn’t wait to return to you. His perfectly oblivious angel.
Meanwhile, you soaked in the water, smelling its essential oil and lathering up the bubbles on your body. In the corner of your eye, a door catches your attention, having not noticed it since entering the apartment. The only door with a keypadlock that seemed to require a code, protecting whatever’s inside or keeping whoever unwanted out. Your thoughts lingered for a moment, wondering what he wanted to keep hidden from plain sight. Hobbies? Priceless items? Murder weapons? Your mind spiraled through every possibility, leaving an itch you couldn’t quite reach to scratch.
But before another second passes, you’re reunited with the man who’s been consuming your thoughts, a smile of relief returning to your face.
“Hi, everything good down there?” You gazed back up at him.
“Yeah, sorry I took so long,” he sighed, the weight on his shoulders palpable until the tension eased away as he slid into the tub beside you.
You moved closer, collapsing into his chest and nuzzling against him, the warmth of his embrace far better than any hot bath. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
His hand gently stroked the back of your head, smoothing the damp tendrils on your shoulders as he glanced down at you, then at the mirror reflecting your intertwined bodies. The image before him was a vision of what the rest of his life would look like. As he correctly foretold. As he meticulously planned. Everything falling into place.
“Me too.”
Your eyes still flickered toward the door with the keypad, curiosity gnawing at you, but you pushed it aside. Whatever was hidden behind that door no longer mattered. Joshua was all that mattered now. You were irrevocably his, as he was irrevocably yours. 
Whatever secrets he had, he could keep them.
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psykopaths · 4 months ago
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Basic Instinct (1992)
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kwanisms · 1 month ago
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Kinktober 「10:10」 — j.yunho
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» ateez menu | yunho menu | kinktober masterlist «
➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than yunho by a lot mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: caffeine consumption (coffee lol), office dynamics, work relationships, coworkers to lovers, leopard mating habits in the wild (lol); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i had a lot of fun with this one and like i mention in the smut warnings under the cut, Yunho's cock is... less than human lol. if that bothers you, don't read this. I'm not called monsterfucker for no reason! i don't really have much else to say about this so thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), size kink, praise (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, kitty, little one, etc), dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yun has a huge d!ck (because of course he does), biting (f receiving), scratching (f receiving), non-human genitalia (because he’s a werecat, he has a barbed d!ck. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m not responsible for your media consumption lol), I think that’s all but just let me know if I missed something. kinks: Size kink + praise dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜
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Being a werecat had its advantages and its disadvantages.
For instance, Yunho was extremely agile, light on his feet, and fast despite his large stature. All positives in his book. He was always the fastest and most graceful in gym class. Everything athletic came naturally to him. 
The cons were it was rough on his dating life. In his teens, he didn’t even bother dating because he was too busy with school and sports but when he finished college and started working, dating became a strange and foreign landscape for him.
Until he met you of course.
When he first encountered you in the break room, he froze upon seeing your tiny frame at the coffee maker. He’d been working at the office for six months by that point and he’d never seen you before. The moment you turned away from the counter, stirring your mug of coffee, and your locked eyes with him, Yunho knew it was all over for him.
You were quite possibly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, your light makeup and soft lip color. The cream and black button down blouse with sheer sleeves and the tight black pencil skirt that hit just below your knees, hugging and showing off your curves had him weak in the knees.
He was doomed before you even opened your mouth.
You quickly introduced yourself, stepping forward to shake his hand. The feeling of your tiny hand in his was one he would not forget easily. You were so small compared to him. It ignited within him the desire to protect you from the entire office. 
He learned you were part of the IT department while he worked in human resources. You were a transfer from another location of the same company and had just started a few days ago. Yunho took you under his wing immediately despite having only been there a few months but he knew if he didn’t act now, someone else might beat him to it.
You started taking your lunches together and sending messages back and forth. Yunho started to show you around the city when you were off work and you became fast friends.
That friendship for him blossomed quickly into a work crush but he never in a million years thought you might also like him and so when he overheard you telling another coworker about your work crush, his heart sank, thinking you had developed feelings for someone else.
It wasn’t until he heard you say his name that he perked up and realized that you liked him back.
It took him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to ask you out and when he finally did, you accepted his invitation for dinner immediately. He’d worried himself so much with you potentially rejecting him, despite knowing you had a crush on him, that he didn’t even have a plan in place for the date but he quickly mapped it all out, scoring a reservation at a really nice place near the river.
Dinner was amazing, the food was spectacular, the conversation was flowing as was the wine and afterwards, the two of you found yourselves walking by the river, admiring the lights of the city. Yunho wanted more than anything to hold your hand and when he finally took the plunge and took your hand in his, he was a goner.
The date ended with him walking you to the bus stop and you had ask him to bend down so you could kiss his cheek before boarding the bus bound for home. Yunho had ridden that high for the rest of the weekend leading into the following Monday and safe to say, he was already smitten.
One date turned into two, which turned into another and soon the two of you agreed to be exclusive. There were thankfully no rules in place that prohibited dating coworkers so long as the two parties weren’t in the same department which you and Yunho were not so it was allowed.
Months flew by and while your relationship progressed romantically and emotionally, physically was another story. That’s not to say you hadn’t kissed. Of course you had. Yunho loved nothing more than kissing you, especially when you were perched on his lap but it never progressed past that.
Yunho was afraid of hurting you. He was quite large, not just in stature. His nature as a wereleopard also meant that he was a great deal more… animalistic. He didn’t have normal human parts. Just like a male cat had spikes on its penis, Yunho had similar protrusions, albeit not as sharp but he knew that it couldn’t be comfortable, having those raking against the inside of your body.
On top of that, he was afraid he might be too rough with you. So as much as he didn’t want to, he often pulled back when things got a little too heated.
It was no different as he sat on your couch, having come over with take out on a Friday night, your designated date nights. That night it was a night in with take out and a show the two of you had gotten into together. Empty takeout containers sat on the coffee table along with a half empty bottle of wine and empty wine glasses.
The tv played softly in the background as you sat perched on Yunho’s lap, fingers twisting through his hair gently as your lips moved against one another, tongues meeting in a languid dance, neither seeking control. His large hands held your tiny waist as you moaned into his mouth, grinding lightly against him.
Yunho had started the evening with an erection, covering it with one of your blankets while you ate and watched TV but when you climbed on top of him, he couldn’t hide it anymore as it strained against his pants, begging for release. When you rolled your hips again, pulling away to leave a trail of kisses down the column of his neck, Yunho finally spoke up.
“Baby,” he croaked, voice hoarse from having not used it in a long while. “Hmm?” you hummed, kisses down to the spot where his neck and shoulder met, a sweet spot of his. You pulled the collar of his shirt away to kiss and nip at the spot, making his mind go blank briefly.
“I-” Yunho let out a moan as your tongue ran along the exposed skin. “I should probably get going.”
You raised your head, lips brushing against his ear. “Why?” you whispered. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” you reminded him. “We don’t work tomorrow.” You pressed soft, wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, one of your hands sliding from his hair down his chest. “You could finally sleep over,” you murmured as your hand continued its path, one that was heading right for the front of his jeans.
“I-I…” Yunho was grasping for a reason to not spend the night despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to. God did he want to spent the night so fucking bad. He wanted more than anything to take you to bed, make love to you and wake up next to you in the morning.
“Please spend the night, Yuyu,” you cooed softly, fingers moving to undo the button of his jeans. Yunho snapped out of it and firmly pushed you back, holding you steadily on his lap as he looked at you with wide eyes. You stared at him in confusion. He could only imagine what was going through your head.
“It’s not a good idea,” he finally said. Your expressions shifted from confusion to dejected as he rejected your advances yet again. ‘Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.’ He hated telling you no, especially when he wanted the exact opposite. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just…” he trailed off, knowing there was no easy way to explain his reluctance to you.
Never did he expect that you thought the problem was you.
“Do you not want me?”
Your question paired with the crestfallen look on your face made his heart break.
“You think I don’t want you?” he asked softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek. “Baby,” he said with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad it hurts,” he continued. “I’m just trying to protect you.” Your eyes opened to look at him. “Protect me?” you asked. “From what?”
Yunho let out a heavy sigh. “From me.”
Your brows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t understand…” you whispered. Yunho took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not normal, Y/N,” he started, taking your hands in his, pressing his palms against yours before lacing your fingers together. “I’ve told you about the curse,” he explained, looking up as you nodded. “That you’re a wereleopard,” you replied.
“Well, there are things about me that look human and for the most part, I am rather ordinary,” he continued to explain, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But in some ways I’m quite… odd.” You let out an impatient noise, pulling your hands from his and pushing his shoulders back so he was leaning against the back of the couch, you leaning against him as you twisted your fingers into his hair, playing with his locks. “I’d say extraordinary,” you argued with a smile.
Yunho couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face. “You’re sweet,” he said softly, giving you a quick kiss. “But I’m serious,” he added, smile falling. “I wish I could explain it,” he continued with a sigh. “But it’s difficult.” You pressed a couple kisses to his lips and cheek. “Then show me,” you suggested. “Please Yuyu?” you added when he opened his mouth to protest.
“Baby, I don’t want to freak you out. It’s… weird.”
You frowned, sitting up and looking at him. “You are many things, Jeong Yunho, and weird may be one of them but that’s never deterred me before, has it?” you asked, tilting your head. Yunho smiled again, a chuckle rising up from his chest. “No, I suppose it hasn’t.” The smile returned to your face.
“Then just show me,” you repeated. “I promise I won’t go running for the hills.”
Yunho sighed and nodded, guiding you off his lap. “Just, promise me you won’t… freak out?” he asked as he started to undo his jeans. You nodded. “I promise, babe,” you replied, eyes wide with excitement as he undid his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. He raised his hips, pushing his jeans halfway down his thighs. 
You could see his cock already straining against his underwear, a dark patch of precum staining the fabric. It made your mouth water and soon you wanted more than to just see it. Yunho took a deep breath before sliding his hand into his boxers, pulling his cock free and your eyes widened as you took in the sight.
It was not what you were expecting. It was mostly human shaped, flesh colored with a bulbous head darker than the rest. A small bead of precum seeping out of the slit. The shaft was pale, veiny like most cocks but what set it apart from the rest were the small bumps around the base of the head. You leaned in closer to inspect, seeing that the bumps were actually pointed.
You looked up at Yunho. “Can I touch it?” you asked softly. Yunho looked surprised by your lack of disgust and that you were more curious and willing to touch him. He nodded, moving his hand to the base of his cock as you reached out a small hand, fingers wrapping around his cock just under the head.
Seeing your tiny hand on his cock nearly sent him over the edge but he managed to keep his composure as your fingers moved, dancing lightly over the head of his cock. “Oh,” you said, sounding surprised as you rubbed the pad of your finger over the spines of his cock. “I thought they would be sharper,” you murmured. Yunho was struggling to keep his breathing steady as you wrapped your fingers around his cock once more. He let out a hiss, head falling back onto the couch cushion.
Curiously, you leaned over, giving the very tip of his cock a lick, cleaning the precum that had gathered there. Yunho let out a gasp, hips bucking as you sat back up, giving him a cheeky smile. “It’s not weird,” you finally said. “I think it’s actually neat,” you added, glancing down at his cock. “I wonder what it feels like,” you added, fingers brushing the spines once more.
“You wanna find out?” Yunho asked, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze. Wordlessly, you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out as he held out a hand. “God yes,” you exclaimed, taking his hand. He pulled you back onto his lap, pulling you into a kiss as you settled against his cock, the underside pressing against your cloth covered crotch.
“Fuck,” Yunho groaned as you kissed down his neck, fingers moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once you had it undone, you pushed the material aside, exposing his toned chest and abs. “C’mere,” he said, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another heated kiss, tongue sliding against yours messily. “One second,” you murmured, pulling away.
Yunho watched as you climbed off him, tucking your thumbs into your shorts and slowly pushing them down, along with your underwear until it fell to your feet. Stepping out of them, you quickly removed your shirt and climbed back onto his lap as he shrugged his own shirt off, having removed his pants and underwear while you were stripping.
“Wait,” Yunho said as you grabbed his cock, lining the tip with your slit. “I need to prep you, baby,” he said as you sat down, sinking on his cock. You let out a moan, taking the head of his cock with ease. “Fuuuuck,” Yunho moaned, head falling back as his hands gripped your waist tightly.
He underestimated how wet you were as your walls enveloped him. “So big,” you moaned, pausing halfway down his shaft. “It’s okay,” Yunho cooed. “Take your time, little one.” You moaned, resting your forehead against his, your hot breaths mixing together as your body slowly adjusted to the massive intrusion.
As you sank further, taking more of his thick cock inside you, the bumps added to the sensation. Each inch stung, a dull burn as your cunt stretched around him. “Fuck, taking me so well, kitty,” he purred, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Can you take more?”
Without answering, you sank further until the tip of his cock was pressed against your cervix. You had taken every single inch without prep like a champ and Yunho would not forget it. Nor would he let you forget it. “Such a good girl, taking all of my cock. It’s like you were made for me.”
Your walls squeezed around him. “Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he said, as his hands moved up your sides. “Such a small little kitty taking my cock like a good girl.” The praise went straight to your core and you wanted more. As you raised your hips, you let out a strained moan, feeling the spines at the base of his cock head lightly rake against your walls.
“Oh holy shit,” you gasped, freezing. Yunho’s hands steadied you. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. You nodded. “It’s different,” you answered. “But I like it.” You continued, more of his cock sliding out of you as the spines scratched the inside of your cunt. You sank back down on him, moaning loudly as the tip of his cock hit your ceRvix.
“F-fuck!” Yunho groaned, fingers digging into your skin as you started to move faster, bouncing on his cock, each pull dragging the spines against your walls and making you cry out. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a much different feeling. It took ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ to a whole new level.
Your thighs started to burn as you tried your best to keep up but Yunho could tell you were getting tired and your legs were going to give out any moment with the way they were shaking. “Stop,” he gasped. “Let me.” Yunho easily turned, depositing you onto the couch on your back and was sliding back into your walls, as he pushed your thighs to your chest.
You cried out as he thrust into you roughly, feeling the spines on his cock drag against your walls. “Yunnie!” you whined as he fucked you against the couch, the room filling with the sound of his hips hitting yours with each thrust. Your hands moved to his back as he pounded into you, the feeling of his hard cock ramming into your cervix making you cry out.
Yunho let out a growl as he felt your nails raked down his back, the feeling spurring him on. Just as quickly as he started, he pulled out of you. He easily maneuvered you onto your stomach, re-entering you from behind and stilling there as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.
“Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?”
You nodded eagerly but the moment he started moving, you were unable to keep quiet as he slammed into you roughly. He never expected you to actually keep quiet but he thought he might as well try seeing as you had neighbors. They would just have to deal with the noise.
You pushed back to meet his thrusts, making him groan into your neck. You cried out in both pain and pleasure as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips never faltering as he fucked you roughly. It was much more raw and animalistic than you’d ever had it but you loved every second of it.
“F-fuck,” you cursed. “M’gonna cum, Yunnie!” 
Your whimpers and moans urged him on, hips snapping against your ass with a renewed vigor as he pushed you towards your orgasm. “That’s it,” he breathed in your ear, letting go of your shoulder and leaving a deep impression of his teeth in your skin. “Cum on my cock like a good kitty.”
Your walls spasmed around him as you came with a cry of his name. He didn’t stop, chasing his own high as he thrust harshly into you until his own orgasm finally washed over him, releasing his cum into you with one final thrust. You let out another moan as his seed filled your cunt and he stayed there, making sure every last drop made it into your spent hole.
As you lay there, panting and covered in sweat, Yunho littered kiss after kiss along your shoulder, licking the spot he’d bitten down on before kiss up your neck and cheek as you turned your face towards him. “That’s why you were keeping from me?” you asked breathlessly with a chuckle.
Yunho laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I thought you wouldn’t like it,” he admitted. “I can be an animal in bed, or in this case, couch.” You laughed again, letting out a sigh. “Next time, let’s do it on the bed,” you murmured. “More space.” Yunho chuckled. “Give me five and I’ll be ready to go again.” You lifted your head, turning to look at him.
“Again?” you asked, eyes wide. You were exhausted. How was he not? Yunho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I told you,” he replied. “I’m not entirely like normal men. I’m a wereleopard.” He turned your face towards him, pulling you into a kiss as you felt his cock start to harden within your walls.
“And in the wild, leopards mate up to over two hundred times over a few days,” he added between kisses. He pulled back to look at you with a devious smile.
“And we have all weekend, sweetheart.”
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©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.
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choslut · 2 months ago
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ INKED. featuring s. geto.
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↻ geto enjoys his job for this exact reason… he gets to give pretty girls like you your first ever tattoo.
tags : tattoos, slight masochism, dirty thoughts, suggestive actions, possessive behaviour, tattoo artist x florist trope, voice kink, dirty talk, praise kink, latex kink (if you squint), implied fingering, marking (literally and figuratively), implied virgin!reader, slight dubcon // wc. 1.1k
author's note : the longest one of the series… and possibly the longest author’s note too. i want to thank everyone who’s supported me throughout this event from the day i released the masterlist all the way up until the last work today!! i know i’ve said that every one of these have been my favourite but why not save the best ‘til last… this very specific image of geto haunts my (wet) dreams 🤤🤤 thank you again for all the support, because of you guys, i managed to go from 200 to over 900 followers !! 💓💓 i can’t thank you more, and i hope you enjoy this last work. this has been luna, and thank you for reading!!
pspsps …. you might want to stick around for my upcoming kinktober. it’s going to be a thriller…
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“i would’ve never striked you as the type to want a tattoo, sweetie.” GETO looks at you over the frame of his glasses, eyebrow quirked as he confirms your appointment on his laptop. “and especially not one of this… calibre. is it your first time?”
you nod shyly, eyes averting from his gaze. he looks at the sheet of paper with your desired design on it, and the corners of his lips quirk upwards. a tramp stamp. totally not your type upon first glance. 
he’s looking forward to this. 
you’re a sweet enough girl. you wear denim miniskirts and baggy floral t-shirts, and your face is almost always bare, save for a few coats of mascara on your eyelashes and the occasional touch of lip gloss to make your features pop. you work in the flower shop across the street, and the only way geto can describe you is cute, and definitely not the type to want such a striking design tattooed on your lower back. it’s in such an intimate position, and he can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous for the lucky fucker who gets to run their hands all over it whilst he-
“it’s not too… extreme, is it?” you bite your lip nervously. “my friends told me that i should do something out of my comfort zone, so…”
he tears his eyes away from the sheet of paper to look up at you kindly. “it’s beautiful. come this way, we’ll get started now.”
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“since it’s your first time, i’ll try to take things slow.” you’re lying flat on your front on the table, skirt pulled down an inch and shirt riding up your stomach. geto stands beside you, rolling up his sleeves and donning his latex gloves before prepping the stencil. 
you have such pretty skin, he notes. beautiful and untouched, with such a pretty arch in your spine. he would’ve loved to imagine you positioned like this in different circumstances, but for now, he’s your tattoo artist and you’re his client, so his job is to make you feel as comfortable as possible. 
so, to soothe your nerves, he runs his latex-clad fingers along the arch in your spine, splaying his hands across your lower back and smiling when he feels you shiver as a disinfectant wipe comes into contact with your skin. 
“i’m just prepping the skin, and then i’ll transfer the stencil. it’ll feel a little cold at first, but hopefully it’ll help calm all those pesky nerves. does that sound alright?” you nod. “good girl.”
shit. it just slipped out, the praise, but then he notices that your muscles start to relax. you like praise. good to know, for next time. 
time seems to pass slowly as geto works his magic, plastering the stencil onto your lower back. it’s affecting him, your reactions, and when he finally reveals the potential placement of your totally out-of-character tramp stamp, he has to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud. 
the placement — it’s fucking dirty. 
geto decides to check up with you before finally starting to prep his equipment. “are you sure about this? it’s your first time, so it might hurt.” he chuckles lightly. “scrap that. it will hurt, but i’ll try to make it quick so that you feel the least amount of pain as possible.”
“i…” your voice dies in your throat when you feel his fingers trace the outline of your preeminent tattoo. “ ‘m a bit nervous. never done this before.”
“mm, i know, angel. you have such a beautiful body… i’d be honoured to mark it up some more next time.”
oh. you know (read: think) there’s no underlying intent to his words, but the way his honeyed voice purrs behind you has a stream of wetness start to build inside of you, and you try to discreetly clench your thighs to quell the dull ache in between your legs, praying that geto doesn’t notice. 
he does. if he wasn’t mistaken, this might just be your kink: being left merciless whilst someone toys with your body. he doesn’t overstep though, just teases, running his hands along your bare legs. “how about here next time? i could ink a pretty little flower on your ankle, or maybe some initials… yours, of course.”
geto rathers he mark his initials on your ankle, but again, boundaries. to stop himself from saying anything that’ll have you bolting out of the studio in a millisecond, he finally sits in his chair, picking up the needle and scooting towards you. “are you ready, sweetheart? this is going to hurt, so tell me if you want me to let up at any time.”
you won’t. he knows you won’t, because the feeling of his fingers on your skin is intoxicating for you given the way your toes begin to curl in your flats as he steadies his hands on your lower back. “relax, love. it’ll hurt less.”
the needle pierces your skin, ink blooming as geto begins his work. the feeling… it’s strange, given the fact that it’s quite literally repeated pinpricks on your back. but it feels strangely good paired with geto’s hands on your back, and his smooth voice praising you all the way through. 
“oh, you’re doing such a good job for your first time, love. i’ve never seen anyone react so well.”
“does it feel alright? wouldn’t want to cause any harm to this precious body of yours.”
“i’m almost finished. you’ve been such a good client, i wouldn’t mind inking you again.”
all of it goes straight to your head, and the pain of the needle is replaced with instant euphoria as your mind fills with lewd images of geto fucking you in this exact position, hands on your lower back in the same way as he eases inside of you. and his voice, good lord, his voice… he would totally talk you through it, his rich grumble echoing in your ear as he guides you to orgasm. 
“you’re taking it so well, aren’t you, baby? that’s my good girl.”
“fuck yes, angel, just like that… oh, you’re so damn perfect.”
“you’re close? cum for me, baby. need to feel you, atta girl…”
before you know it, a moan slips from your lips, and you immediately dread geto’s reaction. 
“did you just…?”
your cheeks are on fire. “n-no! sorry, it hurt a little bit there. i should be fine though, you can keep going.” 
he quirks an eyebrow. “well then, the fault is mine entirely. allow me to make it up to you? i’d feel horrible for hurting you, after all.”
your slight nod is all he needs and suddenly he’s finishing up and wrapping your tramp stamp before prying your thighs apart and slipping his latex-clad fingers into your dripping panties. 
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PREVIOUS : SWEET TALK ft. choso NEXT : N/A
liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK masterlist.
© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. chain divider by @/cafekitsune.
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moonxknightx · 2 months ago
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : OFF SCRIPT : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None! Mentions of (Y/N)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You star with Hugh Jackman in a steamy movie, but the lines between acting and reality blur when Hugh starts developing real feelings for you. After confessing his jealousy and attraction, you realize you feel the same, and the two of you go off-script to explore a genuine connection.
Based on this request.
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THE MOVIE SET WAS BUZZING WITH EXCITEMENT, lights flickering, cameras rolling, and the tension in the air palpable. You’d landed the lead role in an upcoming erotic thriller—a bold career move that had sparked more than a few raised eyebrows. However, what really set tongues wagging was your co-star.
Hugh Jackman. The Wolverine. The greatest showman himself.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. At 55, Hugh was a global icon, still radiating that rugged charm and magnetic energy that made audiences swoon. You, on the other hand, were in your early thirties, on the rise, and wondering how on earth you’d ended up in a movie where you’d have to—well, you know—get intimate with Hugh Jackman.
The director had wasted no time throwing the two of you into the deep end. The first few scenes together? Explosive chemistry. And Hugh, ever the professional, made it feel so natural, even though you both spent half the day either semi-naked or in bed, pretending to tear each other’s clothes off.
~🎬~
"Alright, everyone, places!" The director clapped his hands, signaling the next shot.
You glanced at Hugh, who was casually leaning against a prop desk, shirtless. He caught your gaze, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes. Something that wasn’t just acting. You brushed it off as nerves.
"Let’s do this," you muttered to yourself, adjusting the strap of your robe, which you’d soon be dropping.
Hugh approached you, flashing that million-dollar grin. "You ready for this?"
"As ready as I’ll ever be," you replied with a nervous laugh. "I’m still not sure how you can do this with such confidence."
He chuckled, voice low and warm. "Years of experience, love. Just remember, it’s all choreography. We’re professionals."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Professionals. Naked professionals."
Before he could respond, the director’s voice boomed again, "And…action!"
The scene called for you to push Hugh up against the wall, all passion and heat, and for the next few minutes, that’s exactly what you did. Your bodies pressed together, lips inches apart, the camera capturing every bead of sweat, every intense breath. But between takes, there was something more—an almost imperceptible softness in Hugh’s touch, a lingering glance when the director called cut.
~🎬~
Later that day, you found yourself in another steamy scene—but this time, not with Hugh.
Jake, one of the other actors, had been cast as a secondary love interest, and while your chemistry with him was nowhere near as electric, it was enough to sell the scene. You were mid-take, kissing Jake on a couch when you noticed Hugh watching from behind the camera. He was supposed to be off set for this, but there he was, arms crossed, a small frown on his face.
"Cut!" The director called. "That was good, but I need more passion, (Y/N). Really go for it."
You tried again, but the second your lips met Jake’s, you caught Hugh’s expression in your peripheral vision. Was he…jealous?
The next take was even worse. Your brain refused to cooperate, replaying the image of Hugh standing there, looking like he was about to burst through the set like Wolverine in a rage.
Finally, the director let you both off the hook and called for a break. As you got up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you felt a presence behind you. Hugh.
"Bit of a rough take, huh?" he said, his voice low, but his eyes held a teasing glint.
You spun to face him. "Were you watching?"
"Yeah, well…" He shrugged, trying to look casual. "It’s hard not to when…you know…" He gestured vaguely at Jake. "You’re out there, doing that."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Doing what, Hugh?"
His lips twitched into a smirk, but he quickly suppressed it. "Nothing. Just… I mean, does it have to be so steamy?"
"Uh, yeah, it’s in the script," you teased back, crossing your arms. "Are you getting jealous?"
"What?" He let out a laugh that sounded way too forced. "Me? Jealous? Ridiculous!"
You stepped closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Sounds like jealousy to me, Jackman."
"Okay, fine, maybe a little," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, that charming grin back on his face. "I mean, I get it. I know it’s acting, but…you know, it’s weird seeing you kiss someone else. Especially when we’ve, uh, done…everything but that."
You felt a blush creep up your neck, remembering your more intimate scenes with him. "Hugh, you do realize that we’re supposed to be acting professionals, right?"
He sighed, his smile turning softer. "Yeah, but sometimes, things get a little blurry. At least for me."
You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait… are you saying you…?"
"I’m saying I might’ve caught feelings for you somewhere between take seven of that bedroom scene and the moment you pushed me up against that wall," he confessed, his voice serious now.
Your heart did a weird flip in your chest. This was not in the script. "Hugh, I—"
"Look, I know there’s an age gap, and this is all very unprofessional, but…" He ran his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, (Y/N). It’s been getting harder to separate what’s real and what’s not."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the director called everyone back to set before you could get a word in.
~🎬~
The rest of the day was a blur, Hugh’s confession playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you wrapped for the day, you found him sitting in one of the trailers, staring at his phone, clearly deep in thought.
You knocked softly on the doorframe. "Hey."
He looked up, his face softening as soon as he saw you. "Hey."
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "So…about earlier."
He stood up, his hands slipping into his pockets, suddenly looking far less like the confident actor you knew. "Yeah, about that…"
"Was that you going off-script?" you teased, though your heart was racing.
He chuckled, but his eyes stayed serious. "Something like that."
You took a deep breath. "Well, for the record…I think I’ve been blurring the lines, too."
His eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Yeah. I mean, how could I not? You’re Hugh freakin’ Jackman."
He let out a real laugh this time, the tension in the room breaking. "And you’re (Y/N) freakin’ (L/N)."
You smiled, taking a step closer. "So, what do we do now?"
He shrugged, stepping toward you as well. "Well, there’s no script for this part. I say we improvise."
With that, Hugh closed the gap between you, pulling you into a soft, lingering kiss—one that felt far more real than anything the cameras had captured all day.
And for once, it wasn’t acting.
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alexiroflife · 4 months ago
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being married to gojo as an actress while playing the role of a villain...
au, fluff, some suggestive themes, cheating themes
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🌟🌟🌟
both you, satoru, and probably the rest of the world can confidently say that satoru is your biggest fan. while he is fully successful within his own career, he can not help but fawn over your achievements like a ten year old boy with one of your movie posters hung up in his room
the world does not associate either of you without the other. yes, you have individually made an outstanding name for yourself within the television and theater industry, but your fans find the two of you so adorable, so iconic that it’s impossible to imagine you without satoru gojo and satoru gojo without you
viewers are starstruck when you arrive to your film premiers with satoru on your arm, beaming pridefully as though it’s his first time walking the red carpet when that’s hardly true. you’re beautiful, and everyone knows it. the second your eyes meet a camera along with satoru’s striking blue ones, his hand wrapped snugly around your waist and your faces adorned with dazzling smiles, photographers go wild. even more so when satoru blatantly grabs your face and kisses you all over, feeding your fan pages’ content as well as his desire to constantly shower you in affection
and when it’s not at premieres, satoru’s supporting you during tours, press conferences, galas, meet and greets, sitting backstage or in the front row of the crowd or at times by your side as though he can’t bear to be away from you. when you’re being showered in appreciation, he’s flicking thousands of pictures, capturing the way you interact with your adoring admirers
satoru's grown rather used to the array of roles you have played. he's seen you in rom-coms, dramas, thrillers, actions, you name it, and though he doesn't necessarily get jealous when you have to kiss someone on screen anymore, he doesn't always appreciate some of the intimate scenes you do. despite so, he trusts you. he knows it's your job and that none of it is real, and above all, he knows the faces you make when you're truly experiencing pleasure. while you're an amazing actor, those faces you make on screen could never begin to compare to the ones he draws out of you
ever the arrogant man, however, satoru always makes it a point to remind you of who makes you feel good- who has you crossing your legs under the table as you meet with colleagues over the computer, his fingers working their way in and out of your sopping cunt off camera as you try your damndest to keep a straight face while your entire lower half is squirming- who makes a point to fuck you over the dresser of your trailer in between shoots after having brought you some coffee to help keep your energy high, rambling on about how one of the tech assistants had been looking at you for too long- who, at any event possible, will never fail to lay you back on the seat of your limo before even stepping outside, scrunching up your obscenely priced gown to eat you out as he gazes up at you over your legs
"you're so gorgeous, pretty. my pretty girl," "how lucky am i to be the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?" "fuck, baby, they have no fuckin' idea how good you feel"
even with his habits, satoru will never turn his nose up at any role you play simply because you're far too talented and simultaneously devoted to him for him to ever feel put off by your occupation. besides, he's managed to bag one of the most famous actors in the world. he truly does not think he has anything to worry about when it comes to you
satoru finds himself rather surprised, yet excited nonetheless, when he hears that you are to be playing a dislikable character in the upcoming film of the summer. you warn him that it's drastically different, that you'll be tapping into a morally poor side of yourself for this role that you have never delved into, nor really favored before
"pretty, you'll do amazing. trust me. do i get to watch you be mean to other guys? do you get to beat anyone's ass? honestly, that sounds like a dream come true" "i mean, yeah, but toru it's more than that. my character is actually a bitch. an unfaithful, abusive one. i don't know how i'm gonna do that..."
satoru knows that behind all the glitz, glamor, and fame, the occupation of an actor can be incredibly emotionally and physically taxing. you don't tell him much more about the role before rehearsals and filming starts, but he can tell over time that you're struggling with this particular film. simply because you're just too kind of a person despite how large your presence is
well into the filming process, he decides to visit you on set to serve as some extra emotional support. he's watching from behind the cameras intently as you go through a scene that's way more intense than he had previously expected, and his jaw practically drops as he watches the scene play out before him
your character is being confronted by her husband about her infidelity, and all the while as your acting partner screams at you in tears to beg you for some remorse, you lay back on a sofa with a cigarette pinched between your fingers, face completely dull and apathetic
"how could you do this to me?! to us? why won't you look at me! I say something!"
"whatever i say won't change the fact that i fucked someone else."
"...do you even care? do you care that you've ruined our relationship?"
"let's be real, there was no relationship to begin with."
"w-what do you mean?"
you stand, stubbing your cigarette into a mug, and walk over to your sniveling scene partner. the camera zooms on your face, your dead eyes, your angled brows. "i never loved you. don't you get it? you're just a pet, and you know it. so don't go crying to me about breaking something that was never promised"
satoru's eyes are wide, completely enraptured as though this scene is a real moment he is witnessing from afar. your fake husband he breaks down, dropping to his knees and clinging to you, but you curl your lips in disgust.
"get the fuck off me," you hiss, shoving him rather aggressively away. he falls, sobbing. "pathetic piece of shit."
you go to turn away, but stop and stumble. immediately you break, and gone is the merciless woman that was acting before the crew seconds ago. the light returns to your eyes as you cover your mouth in embarrassment, looking up.
"sorry, i forgot my next block," you say sweetly, timidly. "how was that?"
"perfect! let's pick up from when you turn away. once you say that last line, you-"
satoru is baffled, the director's notes falling into muffled white noise as he stares at you. he's never seen you in such a position before, one that has him questioning everything about you. and though you claimed to have a hard time with it, you were doing fucking phenomenal
he sees now what you mean about your character being... well, a horrible person for lack of a better term. he doesn't even recognize you, and he's sure your fans are going to have a field day when this film comes out. you're being shown in a drastically different light from your heroine and emotionally relatable love interest positions, and it will surely be a sight for the world to see.
during your break, you walk up to satoru tiredly and burrow your face into his chest. he wraps you up immediately, babbling about how insane you were in your scene. you look up at him with those big (e/c) eyes as he runs his hand over the back of your head.
"you think so?"
"baby, my jaw was dropped the entire time. i don't even know how you did that. you played that a little too well."
he's joking, but you still make a face of slight fear, as though you're scared of offending him. "you think it's too much?"
"no- it's a lot, but no- it's perfect. it's bold, and you do it so well."
"it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"
"why would it make me uncomfortable, pretty? i know you're acting, and it's not like you'd ever cheat on me let alone act like that," he tilts his head as a remorseful look flashes through your eyes. "are you uncomfortable?"
"i don't know... i'm just scared of how people will react... mostly because i could never picture saying this stuff to you, and i've had to do a lot of exercises to get into this toxic mindset that just... eugh. trust me, you haven't even seen the half of it."
"have you been able to take long enough breaks?"
"kinda..."
"alright, let's go chill in your trailer 'til your next call. i don't want you stressing your pretty little head about this, princess. you're doing amazing and remember, it's just a movie."
and yes, it's just a movie. a movie that has satoru twitching in his seat during the premiere at how uncomfortably awful you're acting the entire time in the film. by now, you've eased into the feel of things and are rather proud of the work you''ve done, but also happy that it's all over. you hold satoru's hand tight during some of the worst scenes, sneaking glances at him as the screen flickers intensely over his glassy eyes. you can tell he's rather moved by it all, by seeing you in such a position, and you chew harshly on the inside of your lip
when the lights come up, you're given a standing ovation initiated of course by your rather emotional husband, but in his defense, the entire room has tears in their eyes as well. satoru's clapping harshly, and you try to hide your face as grateful tears spring in your eyes, grateful for this opportunity, for your accomplishments, for the support that surrounds you
satoru wraps you in a huge hug and whispers in your ear "don't ever do what you just did in that movie to me," he whimpers, and you laugh loudly because both of you know the thought is inconceivable. "you did so so good, baby. m'so proud of how far you've come"
that night, you shower each other with love. you're wrapped up in each other's limbs, your lips meeting every part of his skin to remind him that you are still you despite the realism of the character you played, and that satoru will always be your one and only you devote yourself faithfully to for the rest of your life. when the two of you have spent yourselves, satoru holds you in the moonlit darkness of your bedroom, arms wrapped around you from behind with your back to his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, then your cheek
"you really liked the movie, toru?" you whisper. "i loved it," he mumbles into your skin. "but, god, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack almost fifty times and that one scene with you at the bar didn't help." "i knew you were gonna say something about that!" "i can't help it, baby, you were just so heartless and scary," he pouts
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writers-potion · 6 months ago
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𝕾𝖔, 𝕷𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝕱𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.
Here are some ideas to let your fight scene sizzle with romantic tension even while daggers are flying about.
Hand-to-Hand Fighting
Make it an unarmed 1:1 combat where physical approxiamation is a must, and where the two are totally aware of the other's body. Use this to encompass erotic awareness.
Use fighting styles that require close touch, like grappling, rolling around on the fllor in a tight clinch.
You you're writing erotica, you can add a touch of BDSM by using the power play.
Daggers
The dagger is a weapon that is often personal and intimate, as it requires the attacker to be close to the target. When the dagger penetrates the flesh, the hand almost touches the victim.
This is very different from weapons like the gun, arrow or spear which can kill at a distance.
In addition, the motion of sliding the dagger into or out of the sheath can be highly suggestive. It gives you room to play with your words or insert suggestive dialogue
Male Fantasies of Female Fighters
Men can be turned on by watching females fight. If your heroine is a martial artist and the hero has a taste for warrior women, erotic tension immediately ensues.
Catfights that involve young, healthy women battling each other for monetary prizes exist. A nastier version of these clubs will involve women who are forced: abducted girls, vitims of human trafficking. These are good for giving your heroine a dark past or adding a thriller element.
Another fantasy can be about men fighting the women, rather than watching them fight. If the heroine also happens to have a taste for violence, they can batter one another happily ever after. More often, the man will pay the woman to fight him.
This happens at an agency or a 'wrestling studio' which employs part-time feamle wrestlers. The client will pay per hour and pick the girl. Nothing sexual goes on, except in the man's minds and his boxers - they will fight fully clothed with a staff member overseeing as referee (chaperone, essentially).
Many of these men who pay to fight will want to lose - being submitted by a woman is a part of their fantasies. They can be gentlemanly, courteous and considerate men at work - which can serve as good hero material.
Female Fantasies of Male Fighters
Women can have similar fantasies where they take pleasure in seeing men take each other on. If the men wear sleeveless vests or fight shirtless, this gives you the opportunity to describe their muscles, sweat and other details.
If your heroine has BDSM tendencies, you can depict her imagining what it would be like to be submitted by the men she watches, although her desire wouldn't really be to fight the man.
On the other hand, the woman's experience watching somene she cares about (a brother, lover, husband) fight will be more emotional than physical.
Post-Fight Horniness
Genuine fights aren't horny, but fighters may get horny afterward when the hormones and intense tension wear off.
So this gives your the excuse to show your professional assasin hunting for a hot date after work. Or let your hero feel unexpected attraction to his comrade after they've pushed through a particularly difficult battle.
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