#UR WHOLE EXPLANATION (????!?@? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ridingtorohan · 6 months ago

Note

hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

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sketchtastrophee · 5 months ago

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more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

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importantpuppystarfish · 3 months ago

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Punishment and Destruction of Newjeans - Kim Minji by her CEOs

Male reader (CEOs) x Minji

Warning: Gangbang, kidnapping, very much hardcore & rough, humiliation, degrading, whipping, vomits, anal, triple penetration, ass gaping, extreme deepthroat, total mess & pissing.

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading and stuff, this can be uncomfortable to read so if ur weak hearted or a fluff enjoyer, typically do not read.

~~~

Minji, the 20-year-old rising star at Newjeans of ADOR, HYPE, has become the agency’s golden ticket, her ethereal beauty and captivating performances propelling her group to global fame. Standing at 5'5" and weighing just slim, her skinny frame, long black hair, and wide, expressive eyes make her a fan favorite, but they also attract the sinister attention of the agency’s CEOs—older, overweight men in their late 40s to mid-50s, each weighing between 280–310 lbs. Ever since, Newjeans started to function on its own after leaving the agency, these CEOs, driven by a toxic mix of greed, jealousy, and perverse desire, have grown resentful of their success, believing her fame overshadows their own power in the industry. They’ve long harbored a dark obsession with her, seeing her as a symbol of their agency’s success but also a possession to dominate, a way to assert their control in a world where they feel increasingly irrelevant. They first plan to target starting from the oldest - Minji.

On the night of her independent group’s concert, the CEOs devise a plan to kidnap Minji, intending to break her spirit and bind her to them through a depraved ritual they believe will ensure the Agency’s dominance in the industry, a twisted act they justify as a “sacrifice” for the company’s future. They lure her to a late-night “emergency meeting” at the agency’s studio to talk about discussions of letting Newjeans rejoin the agency again, so they called the leader - Minji.

Although Minji was about go to a concert that night with the outfit on the first picture, she decided to meet the CEOs instead and let the other members- Hanni, Daniellie, Hyein and Haerin peform for her.

~~~

As she arrives the agency building, literally when she was walking in the stairs, one guy grabs her, pressing a cloth soaked in sedative to her face, her slender body going limp as she’s whisked away to a secluded, its mirrored walls reflecting the horror about to unfold.

Minji wakes up in a few minutes, her head pounding, her body tied to a cold metal table in the dimly lit warehouse, the flickering fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows on the mirrored walls. She’s still in her concert outfit - a black sleeveless top and ruffled skirt - but her stockings and boots are gone, leaving her legs bare and vulnerable. Panic surges through her as she sees her four CEOs surrounding her, their fat bodies looming like grotesque shadows, their eyes glinting with malice. “Why… why are you doing this? What happened” [in Korean] she seeks for explanation with a rude face, her voice trembling, her mind racing with fear and confusion. She thinks of her fans, her group members, and the dreams she’s worked so hard for, now unsure what will happen. “You’re a bitch Minji,” one CEO sneers, his voice dripping with contempt, “You think you’re the star? We made you famous and now your whole group left us, and we’ll break you to keep our agency on top… How dare you guys leave our agency..” Another CEO chuckles darkly, adding, “This is your sacrifice for the company—your body for our success. First is you, next is Hanni”.. Minji’s heart sinks upon hearing this, her thoughts a whirlwind of despair—she wants to scream, to fight, but the ropes binding her arms and legs leave her helpless, her skinny frame trembling as she realizes the depth of their depravity.

~~~

The ordeal begins with a degrading act of forced intimacy, as one CEO grabs Minji’s face, his chubby fingers digging into her cheeks, and forces his lips onto hers, his breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

He kisses her aggressively, his tongue invading her mouth, and spits a thick wad of saliva into it, the taste bitter and nauseating, making Minji gag as she tries to turn her head away. Minji tries to push but shes full tied up.. She wants to break the mouthful kiss badly.

“Swallow it, you little bitch,” the CEO growls, giving Minji a hard slap on her cheek to enforce his command.. Next, another CEO takes his turn, pressing his lips to hers, his saliva mixing with the first CEO’s, the slimy exchange leaving Minji’s mouth coated in their spit, her stomach churning with disgust. She thinks of how she’s been reduced from a beloved idol to a plaything, her tears streaming down her face as the CEOs laugh, their voices echoing in the warehouse, “She’s learning her place already!” The forced kissing lasts for several minutes, each CEO taking multiple turns, slapping her face rough, their and Minji's saliva dripping down her chin, the act a humiliating prelude to the horrors ahead, as Minji’s mind screams for escape, her body unable to resist their overpowering strength.

The CEOs escalate their assault, their anger and obsession boiling over into violence, as one CEO rips off Minji’s concert outfit, tearing the fabric with his bare hands, leaving her naked and exposed on the metal table, her skinny 5'5" body, healthy frame shivering in the cold air. Another CEO grabs a leather belt from his waist, his fat fingers gripping it tightly, and without any warning or signs, begins whipping her, the belt lashing across her chest, face and stomach, each strike leaving red welts on her pale skin, the pain sharp and searing. "AHHH NO, STOP. please-!" [Minji screams in pain in Korean]… “You think you’re better than us?” the CEO shouts, his voice filled with rage, as he delivers another lash, this time across her chest, making Minji cry out, her voice hoarse with agony. Another CEO steps forward, his fist clenched, and punches her in the stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of her, her skinny body doubling over, her mind screaming for it to stop, “Please, I can’t take this,” she thinks, but the beatings continue, the CEOs taking turns punching her arms, thighs, and stomach, their blows leaving bruises on her fragile frame, while a third CEO whips her back with the belt, the sound of leather against skin echoing in the mirrored room as the nonstop beatings continues, Minji’s screams keep growing louder and louder due to more pain.

—she wonders if she’ll survive this, if her career, her life, will ever be the same. The beatings continue for what feels like an eternity, the CEOs taking turns punching her arms, thighs, and stomach, their blows leaving bruises on her fragile frame, while another CEO whips her back with the belt, the sound of leather against skin echoing in the warehouse, Minji’s screams growing weaker as her strength fades, her mind clinging to the hope that someone might save her. As the CEOs untie Minji from the table, the CEOs then, Minji now being untied, force her to sit on the concrete floor, her bruised body trembling with exhaustion, her mind a whirlwind of fear and humiliation.

Two CEOs position themselves in front of her, their fat bodies blocking her view of the mirrors, and begin a hardcore deepthroat, one CEO grabbing her hair and shoving his penis into her mouth with ruthless force, the act so rough that Minji’s throat constricts.

Just after 3 minutes of the deepthroat, Minji starts to feel she is about to vomit, her gag reflex kicking in as she vomits, the bile spilling out around his penis and dripping down her chin, “Look at this slut, puking already!” he laughs, pulling her hair harder, forcing her to take him deeper, while the other CEO takes his turn, his penis equally forceful, “Swallow it, you filthy whore—taste your own mess!” he taunts, the deepthroating relentless as Minji vomits again, the mess coating her chest and the floor, her thoughts a blur of shame, “I guess I’m nothing to them,” she thinks, her throat raw and burning.

As she struggles to swallow the vomit, one CEO begins to piss into her mouth, the warm, acrid stream mixing with the bile, “Drink it down, you disgusting bitch—puke and piss, that’s all you’re good for!” he mocks, the other CEO laughing, “She can’t even keep it down—what a pathetic little whore!” Minji gags violently, the taste overwhelming, her mind reeling with disgust as the CEOs continue their deepthroats, each act causing her to retch, more vomits and piss inside her mouth, her once-shining star persona reduced to a broken shell.

~~~

The gangbang reaches its most extreme phase as three of the CEOs focus on Minji’s lower backside body, their obsession with her anus (as they have seen Minji shake her ass a lot in concerts) glorifying it as the “ultimate thing to destroy” of their twisted ritual. They get flashbacks of Minji's ass in the concerts.

"Oh guys look! It's soo tight, bet she is still a virgin.. We are gonna break her today!" the guy says as he licks the fresh asshole of Minji, it does tastes delicious. They position her on her back on the floor, her legs spread wide, her skinny frame barely able to support their weight as they prepare for triple penetration in both her vagina and anus.

One CEO kneels between her legs, his strong fingers spreading her anus, “This shithole is ours now, boys—let’s make it a masterpiece,” he says, his voice filled with perverse reverence, before he and two other CEOs each insert their penises into her anus simultaneously, the combined girth stretching her tight as fuck anus to a 6-inch diameter, the pain unbearable as Minji screams super extreme loud now, her voice echoing off the mirrored walls, her thoughts a chaotic mix of agony.

Minji shouts “My body can’t take this—I’m going to break!” Simultaneously, the same three CEOs perform triple penetration in her vagina, their penises stretching her vagina to its limits. The triple penetrations on her anus and pussy pushed Minji’s body to a breaking point, her cries drowned out by their grunts, “She’s taking it all—our perfect little slut!” one CEO shouts, while another adds, “Her shithole is a work of art—stretch it wider, boys!” Minji’s mind is a haze of pain, her body trembling uncontrollably, her anus and vagina sore from the extreme penetrations, the CEOs’ glorification of her shithole making the act even more degrading, as she feels like nothing more than a vessel for their depravity.

The CEOs take their advantage on Minji’s shithole to an even more extreme level, deciding to stretch it beyond human limits, their hands becoming tools of torment as they seek to gape her anus like a “black hole.”

One CEO and another CEO position themselves on either side of her, their strong fat hands gripping her buttocks, while a third CEO joins in, each inserting their fingers—four fingers per hand, totaling 12 fingers—into her anus, pulling outward with immense force, “Let’s open this shithole up, boys—make it a black hole for our little whore!” one CEO laughs, his voice filled with sadistic glee, as they stretch her anus upto 10-inch diameter, the opening so large it defies human anatomy, the surrounding skin stretched thin and red, the dark interior visible to all.

Minji suffers from extreme horrible pain, screaming in agony, her thoughts a desperate plea, “They’re tearing me apart—I can’t survive this!”

The CEOs marvel at their work, one CEO launching as her asshole now being extremely stretched, “Minji, you don’t clean your anus? It has all shit inside—omg, she hasn't done any bowel movement, guys!” as they notice the large amounts of fecal matter in her rectum, the smell pungent and earthy, another CEO adding, “What a dirty bitch—her shithole’s a mess, just like her!”

They continue to stretch her anus, their hands pulling relentlessly, the gaping asshole now a cavernous void, the CEOs laughing at her humiliation, “Look at this black hole—we’ve ruined her asshole for good!” Minji’s mind is a storm of pain and shame, her body trembling as the CEOs’ words cut deeper than their hands, her once-pristine image as a K-pop idol shattered.

~~~

With Minji’s shithole now gaped to an extreme 10-inch diameter, the CEOs proceed to piss inside it, their depravity reaching new heights as they use her body as a vessel for their fluids.

The four CEOs form a circle around her, their bodies towering over her broken form, and begin pissing into her gaping anus, their streams warm and acrid, filling her rectum with urine, the liquid pooling inside her, “Fill her shithole up, boys—let’s drown this slut’s black hole!” one CEO shouts, his voice filled with perverse satisfaction, while another CEO adds, “Her shithole’s a toilet now—what a filthy whore!” The urine overflows, dripping down her thighs and onto the floor, the smell mixing with the fecal odor, Minji’s thoughts a haze of disgust, Minji starts to cry at the pain and humiliations, her body trembling as the CEOs continue their job, they continue pissing more over her.

They take turns, ensuring a continuous flow, most aiming so that their piss goes directly into her anus while others piss on her face and mouth, focing her to drink it and lastly on stomach and chest. The urine liquid soaking her completely, the CEOs mocking her, “You’re a piss bucket now, Minji—our little shithole slut!”

The gangbang continues for hours, the CEOs relentless in their fucking, their fat bodies pressing against Minji’s frail frame as they take turns in every position imaginable, their sexual acts intertwining in a nightmarish cycle.

They continue pissing more over her face and mouth. Minji has no choice rather to drink and swallow them all, trying to resist will lead her to getting beaten.

They force more deepthroats, two CEOs at a time, their penises choking her until she vomits again, the bile mixing with the piss and sweat on her face, the mess smeared across her body as they troll her, “Look at this bitch, puking again—she can’t handle us!” one CEO laughs, while another adds, “Swallow it, you disgusting whore—puke and piss, that’s all you’re worth!” They beat her between rounds, one CEO punching her face, stomach, leaving dark bruises, while another whips her with the belt, the lashes now targeting her arms and back, each strike drawing a weak cry from her lips, her strength nearly gone, her thoughts a desperate plea for the ordeal to end.

~~~

By the end, Minji is a broken figure, her body covered in welts, bruises, vomit, piss, and feces, her shithole gaping like a black hole, her vagina sore from the triple penetrations, her throat raw from the deepthroats, her spirit shattered as the CEOs leave her on the floor, their voices echoing as they walk away, “We’ll be back for more, this time we are gonna bring Hanni you filthy whore friend—the Agency and we own you now.” Minji lies there, her thoughts a faint whisper of defiance—she hopes Hanni will able to escape them but next it seems she's gonna meet with Hanni with the same fate.

#girl group smut #kpop gg smut #female idol smut #twice smut #ive smut #Newjeans smut #Minji smut #yuna smut #izone smut #Haerin smut #Hanni smut

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bloomseishiro · 2 months ago

Text

IF THAT WAS CASUAL, THEN I’M AN IDIOT — NAGI SEISHIRO

౨ৎ — you’ve grown closer to nagi the past year. you spent time alone together, you made plans together, and you guys have even kissed! just one thing you forgot to do…define the relationship.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader. fluff, misunderstandings, nagi is taller than reader, college au (suspend ur disbelief and pretend nagi would go to college pls shdklakdc), ft. reo the accidental shit stirrer :3

word count. 1.0k

One of your favorite things about Nagi is the way he rests his chin on the top of your head as he lazily embraces your waist from behind.

He always wears the comfiest sweaters and you can’t help but lean back into his warmth.

“When’s your next class again?” you ask, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“In, uh, five minutes.”

“Why are you still here, then?” you exclaim. “You’re going to be late. Again! You should go now.”

Nagi groans, burying his face into the top of your head and murmuring a muffled, “Don’t wanna.”

It tempts you for a moment, you can’t lie. If you had the choice, you would stay wrapped in his arms like this for the rest of the day. Sadly, tuition isn’t free and missing a class is simply a waste of money!

“If you go, we can get dinner after my 4 p.m. seminar,” you bribe.

He perks up ever so slightly before begrudgingly gathering his belongings and crossing campus to get to his next lecture on time. Once he waves goodbye, you notice Reo walking over with his eyebrows raised.

“What?” you sniff.

“You guys need to start dating already,” he says with an eye roll. “This flirting and pining is getting to be unbearable.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Reo looks at you strangely. “What do you mean, ‘Huh’?”

“A-are Nagi and I not already dating?” you ask.

A snort escapes him as he shoots you an incredulous glance. “You tell me. Nagi’s never told me the two of you are together. You haven’t either. Unless you both decided to keep your best friend completely out of the loop, then it seems like you’re not.” Reo adjusts the strap of his backpack and tilts his head to the side. “Did Nagi ask you out?”

You shake your head.

“Did you ask him out?”

You shake your head faster this time.

Reo’s eerie silence prompts you for an explanation.

“Sure, we didn’t say anything, but we go on dates. I think… And we spend time together! Romantically!”

He shrugs, putting his hands up lazily. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, right?”

You nod weakly, but a newfound horror overtakes you.

Have you and Nagi really not been together this whole time?!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

It seems your bad and confused mood stuck with you thorough the entirety of your seminar and even into your dinner with Nagi.

You ordered one of your favorite noodles dishes, but even the familiar smell couldn’t entice you to eat. Feeling an intense stare burning through the top of your head, you look up from your bowl to see Nagi eyeing you questioningly.

“You haven’t eaten anything,” he notes, placing his chopsticks down. “What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you wonder to yourself if he notices when Reo isn’t eating as well. You thought he treated you differently, but maybe Nagi is like this to all his friends and you are just feeding into your delusions.

“Y/N,” he says a little louder, a frown on his face. “Are you okay?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nod with wide eyes. “Yes, everything’s okay— I’m okay.”

His frown deepens. “I thought you knew better than to lie to me.”

You sigh, staring down at your food, downcast. “I do. Sorry.”

“Then?” he prompts.

Taking a deep breath, you manage to choke out, “Nagi, what are we?”

He blinks, as if taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This— Us! What is it exactly? I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure,” you say, giving him a helpless look.

Nagi rubs the back of his neck, gaze flickering away from you and towards his half-empty glass of water. “I thought it was obvious. Aren’t we dating?”

“We are?” you ask, blinking slowly.

“Yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. “I don’t do any of the things we do with Reo or Isagi.”

The nerves in your stomach settle down slightly once you realize Nagi views your relationship in the same way as you.

“I don’t do this with any of my friends, either,” you promise, looking at him with earnest, doe eyes. “I don’t kiss or cuddle or go on dates with any of them!”

“I’d hope not,” Nagi drawls, a slight expression of amusement playing on his face. “What brought this on so suddenly?”

“Reo,” you answer sheepishly. “Turns out, you never asked me out. And I never asked you out. I guess he brought it to my attention that’s usually how dating works…”

Nagi considers it for a moment before nodding in agreement. “I guess. I dunno. I never paid attention to that stuff before. Do you care about that?”

You hum, taking a sip of your water as you considered it. “Not really, at first. I knew whenever we spent time together alone, or kissed each other, it was special to us. We didn’t need to label it.”

“Yeah.”

“But,” you say hesitantly, “ever since Reo brought it up, I realized it would sort of be nice to tell people that yes, Nagi Seishiro is my boyfriend.”

The tips of Nagi’s ears color as he hears those words come out of your mouth.

“Yeah,” he says again, softly this time. “That sounds nice.”

You smile, a hopeful glint in your eyes. “Really?”

“I want you to call me your boyfriend,” he says firmly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Hiding a giddy giggle behind your hands, you feel your heart begin to beat faster. “Yes, of course! I would love to officially be your girlfriend.”

Nagi smiles, gently grabbing hold of your hand from across the table. “Okay. That means you won’t question what we are anymore?”

You shake your head fervently. “Never!”

“Good.”

And as you continue your first date as an official couple, you make a mental note to thank Reo later for spurring this on.

#🌸.writings #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk fluff #bllk fanfic #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #nagi fluff #blue lock oneshots #bllk drabbles

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