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elleluvsjurin · 2 months ago

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Be Each Other’s Company

Lily Morrow x Bae Jinsol x fem!reader

synopsis: you and lily teach bae some “sex education”

pairings: g!p Lily, g!p Bae x fem!reader

cw: soft dom!bae, hard dom!lily…she’s the ring leader, inexperienced jinsol, lily and reader has had sex a few times, reader is the same age as Lily, Lily’s a little mean and controlling…hehe, oral(bae receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 1.1K

MEN DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

You, Lily, and Jinsol have sleepovers every month, you guys call it a “tradition”. With that being in mind, this month is the month that the sleepover is held at your place.

Lily and Jinsol bangs on your door, you instantly open it, facing your two best friends. Lily being Lily eyes you up and down before pulling you into a tight hug.

“you look so pretty, y/n.” Lily mumbles in your ear as she hugs you. your heart skips a beat or two at her flirty statement.

“t-thank you, lil.” you mutter before pulling away, she chuckes at your reaction. she always loved seeing you crumble. bae pulls you into a hug and then she pulls away. Lily’s eyes linger for a little while before she turns her gaze back to Bae.

“me and lil bought the snacks!” bae happily mentions, sitting the snacks down on your table.

“thank you, these look to die for.” you reply.

Lily and Bae take their designated spots on your couch, you set up the movie while they sit. you bend over a bit to pick up the CD from the case next to your television and Lily looks at Bae before clearing her throat and speaking up.

“y/n. come here.” Lily calmly states

“lil, im trying to figure something out. hold on.” you reply

“you think i give a fuck? i said come here.” her Australian accent thickens, you stop in your tracks, hurriedly walking over to her.

“good girl.” she mumbles. “our little bae here is a virgin, would you like to teach her a few things?” she smiles sweetly. you look over to Jinsol who doesn’t make eye contact with you, her face turning a shade of pink.

“u-uh sure.” you mutter, walking over to bae. you cup her face, placing a small peck on her lips.

“so cute.” you mumble, bae’s cock slightly twitches in her pajama pants. Lily watches you two interact before getting up and standing next to you.

“take her pants off, take good care of our little bae. do her how you do me.” she mentions. you do as she says and you get on your knees, slowly pulling down her pants and underwear; her hardened cock springing up in the air, her tip being a perfect shade of pink with precum dripping.

you and Lily gasp at the same time, her cock obviously shocking the both of you but nonetheless you softly kiss her tip.

“bae you’re such a big girl.” you softly mumble before wrapping your soft lips around her length, bobbing your head up and down. bae accidentally moans out loud before covering her mouth. lily harshly removes her own hand from her mouth.

“don’t you dare cover your mouth, let me hear how good she’s making you feel.” Lily’s cock twitches as she bobs your head up and down on Bae’s cock. you lie your tongue flat on the bottom of her length, making it easily slide into the back of your throat. the only sounds coming from the room are the lewd noise of her cock hitting the back of your throat and bae’s own moans. “you like how your best friend sucks your cock like her life depends on it, hm? i know you’ve been fantasizing about it.” Lily taunts Bae as she throws her head back, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she nods her head in agreement.

“a-ah..y-y/n..please~” bae softly whimpers. Lily removes her hand from your head and she softly fondles jinsol’s balls with her hands, eliciting a loud moan from her. you and Lily continue your assault on bae’s cock. her legs shake and her voice trembles as she spills her seed inside of your warm mouth.

“f-fuck..” she trails off, her face turning a deep shade of red as you look her in the eye and swallow her cum.

“you did so good, jinnie.” Lily softly kisses her cheek and caresses her hair.

“thank you.” she mutters.

“let’s take this upstairs, we’re not done with you, y/n.” Lily states. you and bae follow her up to your room.

“spread your legs, let jinnie see that pretty pussy of yours.” You lay back up against your bed and you spread your legs, bae stands in between your legs, your nightie hikes up. she presses her cock up against your clothed cunt.

“take them off, bae.” you mention. she seductively pulls down your now soaked panties, throwing them across the room somewhere. lily comes over to you two and she slowly spits on your pussy, rubbing her spit all over your clit. bae presses her cock up against your cunt and she looks at you for approval. you nod your head in agreement.

“go ahead..don’t hold back.” you mention

“o-ok.” is all she says before sliding her cock into your tight cunt. your wetness mixed in with Lily’s spit making it easier for her to thrust in and out of your pussy.

“fuck you’re so wet for her, y/n.” Lily whispers as she rubs circles into your clit.

“s-shit…oh my goodness~” you moan as bae’s tip kisses up against your g spot while lily plays with your pretty pussy.

bae pulls down the top part of your nightie, exposing your perky breasts to the both of them. bae grabs onto your right boob while lily sucks on your left nipple as she continues to softly play with your clit.

“mmmh so f-fucking good~” bae whimpers and looks down at the way her cock slides in and out of your pussy, your walls grip tightly around her as she speeds her thrusts up.

“fuck fuck fuck bae…don’t stop, im so so close!” you moan out loud, your voice echoing in the background. as bae speeds up, Lily’s fingers work faster on your clit. you rolls your eyes to the back of your head as you’re experiencing a different type of pleasure, ecstasy even. bae’s thrusts start to get sloppy when she feels you’re about to cum.

“don’t tap out on her, jinnie. this is your pussy now, you own her. show her who’s the boss of this slutty pussy. make her cum. cum for her, y/n” Lily taunts Bae, continuing to rub your clit, she locks lips with Bae; encouraging her.

your legs tremble as you start to cream all over bae’s cock. your cum leaving a white ring around the base of her cock. bae’s hips stutter as she releases inside of you, your orgasm triggering her own before she slowly pulls out of you. you lay there in shock for a moment before lily speaks up.

“Wow Bae. I didn’t know a virgin could fuck like that.” she says

“You and Y/N helped me.” Jinsol blushes at herself before cleaning up. Lily cleans you up and helps you straighten out your nightie.

“y/n you better not be knocked up.” Lily chuckles

“im on the pill, no worries..though it wouldn’t be too bad if i were knocked up by one of my best friends.” you playfully explain and Jinsol scoffs

“I don’t think we’re just “best friends” after this.”

a/n: dare i say…i kinda went crazy! wrote this last night…i HAD to use these pics of bae and lily xD

#kpop gg #fem reader #nmixx x reader #lily morrow x reader #bae jinsol #nmixx bae #nmixx lily

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

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I want step dad cillian with needy/pervy reader who comes into his room one night and just starts grinding on his cock (over clothes😔) and he’s like no stop this is wrong but she keeps doing it and he keeps telling her to stop until he comes in his underwear🤭 and I’m debating writing it myself but your step dad cillian shit is fire so like,, if you’re taking requests,,,, I’m requesting that skdjsk. Anyway I love you bestie <3 lmk if you decide you don’t want to write it cause I’ll probably do it💀 (eventually..)

🥵 🥵 thankyouthankyouthankyou

A Father and a Lover ⸻ Cillian Murphy

pairing | cillian murphy x stepdaugher!reader

summary | Cillian Murphy is trying to be a good dad for you. It proves more difficult than he expected.

word count | 1.1k

Warnings: dub-con but cillian's lowkey into it, age-gap (reader's eighteen and cillian's late thirties/early fourties), stepcest, grinding, dd/lg kink, princess nickname, PROCEED WITH CAUTION — DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Cillian Murphy was trying his best to take care of you. He hadn’t expected your mother — his ex-wife — to up and skip town all those years ago, leaving you, a girl who was barely out of elementary school, vulnerable and in need of protection, in his arms, with no help, no money, no nothing.

He didn’t regret it at all, of course. At least, not anymore. The thought of you not in his life sent him into a spiraling panic, a desperate haze that could only be cured by your comforting touch. To think that he once looked into your eyes and felt a heavy weight of burden on his shoulders, killed him. If you hadn’t shown up — well, he was sure what he would have done.

As a child, you were easy to raise, and as a teenager, you never got into any sort of trouble. You passed your classes reasonably well and did the chores without complaint, you never smoked or did drugs or mess around with boys. No. You were daddy’s little girl. A good girl. A happy girl, content with her step-dad’s care.

It was only when you started to grow did things start to change. In his eyes, you were still his daughter, but there was something more — a dark lust hidden in the crevices of his mind that told him you were his in more ways than one.

Cillian had watched you grow all these years, but never like this. Not with your breasts big, nipples showing through the loose shirts you wore at home because he told you it was okay and that you were safe wearing those things around him. Not with your round ass that made you look like a woman, the ones men drooled over. Not with the way you still insisted on sitting on his lap, shifting around and claiming you were only doing so because you were uncomfortable, even though he knew you weren’t stupid and could tell what that was doing to him.

Cillian never wanted to hurt you, and he never would, but sometimes it was hard. And sometimes, things just happened. Like tonight, when you snuck into his room and made him cream through his pants.

+++

“Daddy?”

Your knock was light, just enough to get Cillian’s attention. He looked up from the book that he was reading and smiled, asking you to come in. He expected this, as you would ask to sleep with him most nights, but he didn’t expect you to be wearing just a bra and panties.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks dusted with a fine pink. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, trying not to focus on the fact that you were practically naked, clothing designed to accentuate your body.

“A little.” Your tone was fairly quiet. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Cillian’s heart warmed. “Yes, princess. C’mere.”

He held out his arms, to which you took them, letting him guide you to his side. You crawled underneath the blanket and cuddled up next to him. Your warmth spread over him like wildfire, beckoning him to pull you closer.

“Do you want me to read you a story?” he asked, looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. He ignored the way your breasts were pressing up against him. He also ignored his erection, hot and heavy.

“No. I have something different in mind,” you said, a sly, innocent look on your face.

“Oh?”

"Mhm."

Despite Cillian's protests and his desperate attempts to push you off, you planted yourself firmly on his body, right on his cock. Cillian let out an involuntary groan, bucking his hips upwards for a moment. Shame flooded his body, and he stuttered trying to explain himself.

"P-princess, can you please get off?"

He didn't look you in the eye. He knew you must have felt his boner, you were sitting right on it!

"What's this, daddy?" you asked, rubbing yourself on him. "What's this hard thing?"

"You know what it is," Cillian hissed, his hands on your hips. "Don't play dumb."

You giggled. All Cillian wanted to do was smash his lips against yours, but no — he couldn't. He shouldn't. He had to control himself, for both your sake and his.

"I think I need a lesson."

Cillian sighed, trying to halt your movements, but it didn't work. You just kept rubbing against his hard thing as you so called it.

"Sometimes," he taught shakily, even though he knew you already knew this, "men get aroused. And when we do — which is normal and cannot be controlled — this happens."

"What's this?"

Cillian looked up at you desperately. "My, uh, penis."

"I like cock better."

Cillian was astounded. Why is it you were doing this to him? Was this some sort of test? Why were you being so vulgar? If he was in the right state of mind, he would have bent you over and given you a couple of smacks on the ass.

You know what? That's what he was going to do right now.

"Bend over my knees," he ordered weakly. "Now . . ."

"For saying 'cock'?" You grinned. You were grinning.

"For behaving like a slut," he clarified. "Do it . . . Please."

"Not today," you said, quickening your movements. You threw your head back. "Oh, this feels so nice — should've done it sooner. But you know, the law and all that. Didn't want you to get in trouble. Does it feel nice for you as well?"

"No," he lied, muscles tense, but then his resolve broke. "Fuck," he whimpered. "I'm trying to be a good father for you. M'trying so hard. I can't do this to you. I can't — fuck! I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, daddy," you egged on, humping him. "It's okay."

He threw his head back and let out a moan, his hot seed spurting out of him, restrained by his underwear and pants. It wet his clothing, leaving a damp patch, a reminder of what he just did.

You stopped, letting him recover. Almost like a switch had been turned off, you looked nervous, like you usually were. You looked like a good girl again.

"You alright?" you asked.

Cillian let out a sigh, relaxing himself. "Yeah . . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have let you." He felt miserable with himself. This would never last into the future. What would people think? He would be erasing himself as your father figure and replacing it as your lover. What would happen when you needed a dad to hug? What would happen if you two got into a big argument? What would happen if you saw him as both — a father and a lover? That would be disastrous. How were you two supposed to navigate a relationship like that?

"Don't be sorry."

You got off of him — a little late for that — and sat down beside him.

"I've just shown you my love. Don't regret it."

If possible, Cillian felt even worse. "I know. I know." He sighed. "I know."

But he didn't. He didn't know what to do at all.

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @nela-cutie @madnessandobsession @bernelflo @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfiction #pinguwrites

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ameliora-j · 1 year ago

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Stepdad!eddie stepdadsfriend!steve corrupting reader? Not sure if it’s something ur comfortable with but let me know if it isn’t so I can think of some other stuff 🫣🫣🫣

𐐪𐑂 twisted tuesday is back! send in ur requests :>

content: innocence kink, corruption kink, stepcest, age gap, objectification, masturbation (m!recriving), sort of bimbo!reader, DARK CONTENT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MINORS DNI

you look up at eddie as your kneeled on the floor in front of him and steve. you’re at the coffee table, working on a project for your design class as the two sit behind you, watching the game and drinking beer. your hand is set on your chin, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“my god eds, if she wasn’t your stepdaughter…” steve groaned.

“i’ve thought about the same thing, stevie” he chuckles, shaking his head a bit. “watch this” he whispers. “hey princess, can you get me another beer please?” he asks.

“yeah!” you say cheerfully, smiling brightly as you stand up. you lean over the coffee table, grabbing his empty bottle before turning to steve. “do you need one too, mr. harrington?” you ask, tucking a hair behind your ear.

steve stares down your top, not even concealing it as he smirks at your boobs spilling over your tank top. “yes please, hun” he hums, handing the empty bottle to you. you hum softly as your turn, your skirt flowing up and showing off your cute little pink thong as you walked off to the kitchen.

you come back with two cold beers, freshly opened. once more, you lean over the table to hand the men their beers, this time both steve and eddie look down your top. “thank you sweetheart” eddie smiles, and you nod softly, going back to your position in front of the coffee table on your knees.

“yn, you wanna hear something cool?” steve asks. “it’s this fun mind trick robin taught me.”

you smile, nodding as you look up at him. “yeah, what is it?” you giggle.

“if you pretend to shake a salt shaker into your mouth, you’ll start to really taste the salt” he nods, and eddie snorts at that. “like this” he says, showing you the position.

you hum softly, furrowing your brows. “really?” you smile, beginning to mimic his actions. steve and eddie both bite their lips, their pants tightening as their cocks harden quickly. “like this?” you ask softly.

“yeah, just like that” eddie nods, squeezing his cock through his pants. you nod, continuing to do it. your tits begin bouncing, nearly spilling out of your top. steve pushes his hand down his pants, taking a deep breath as he palms his dick through his underwear.

“i dunno, i don’t taste anything” you say, frowning a bit.

“you gotta stick your tongue out too, baby” steve groans quietly as he begins to jerk his cock in his pants, eddie mimicking his actions as they get off to you.

you nod, sticking out your tongue and shaking the salt shaker. “jus shake it a little harder… you’ll start to taste it” eddie breathes as he squeezes the base of his cock, trying not to cum too soon. steve reaches to squeeze his balls, biting back a loud moan as you shake your arm harder, your tits now bouncing with more vigor.

“yeah… yeah honey like that” steve grunts out softly. “so close…” he whines under his breath as he humps his own hand.

steve and eddie both gasps, biting down on their fists as cum leaks from the head of their hard, red cocks. “i think i taste it a little!” you giggle softly.

“yeah honey…” eddie nods lazily, pulling his cock free and grabbing some tissues to clean the cum from his hand, offering some to steve as well.

“that was super cool mr. harrington!” you smile as you turn back to them. “thanks for showing me that.”

“anytime, honey…” he breathes out, pillows now covering the messes that eddie and steve had made in their pants

#nani’s angels 👼🏽#fanmail 💌#twisted tuesday!#stepdad!eddie #dbf!steve #eddie munson #steve harrington #dark.nani

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alavestineneas · 10 months ago

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Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it. The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

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vraisetzen · 1 year ago

Text

𝑨 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 – 𝑲𝒐𝒌𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Summary: As Kokushibo does the laundry, he stumbles upon a pair of your underwear.

Tags: NSFW, 18+, Modern/KimeGaku AU, No use of (y/n)

Author's note: A short writing exercise. And I've been obsessed with writing about men jerking off lately...

It comes as little surprise that Kokushibo is fairly adept at doing the laundry – as Kibutsuji Muzan's designated secretary-slash-bodyguard-slash-handler, he is more than accustomed to managing his employer's collection of silk shirts with Italian labels and wool trousers with double pleats and monogram stitching along the inner lining.

When it comes to your clothes and his, Kokushibo has a system down pat, from sorting out dyed fabrics from his dress shirts, to polyester blends from cotton fabrics, and special netting bags for delicate garments. It was a language that only he spoke, with a frazzled attempt once on your part to take over the chores leaving him more than a little disgruntled as you turned his white boxers a darling shade of baby pink.

Hence, it has become a routine for him to find himself kneeling by the washing machine every Sunday, pawing through the laundry basket quietly and efficiently. His shirts and your pyjamas; your shorts and his gym towels. He tosses them into the washing machine, making a mental note to himself on how high he would have to set the water and rinse levels when he is finished.

And then, Kokushibo comes to your intimates – this is not foreign domain to him either. At this stage in your relationship, he is more than familiar with what you wear: the wireless bras, a unisex thong that your friends gave to you as a joke on Singles' Day, lacy pieces that you wear infrequently on special occasions. Kokushibo finds nothing embarrassing about this; he has already seen you in a far more revealing state, and this is, once again, routine.

What is not routine, however, is the strange curiosity that takes root inside him as he holds your panties in his hand, pausing for a long second. It is nothing special – a grey hipster that is a little loose around the elastic from wear – but Kokushibo hesitates as he lingers just over the metallic ring of the laundry drum. Perhaps it is the piece's simplicity; something you throw on without caring for seduction or looking pretty, something that is just there as you go about your day, beneath your clothes, something you hardly think about.

Kokushibo turns the underwear inside out, where there is a slightly darker mark on the crotch, the remnants of you on the cloth. A shot of arousal twinges through his cock as he wonders if you have ever fantasised about him while wearing this particular pair, staining the cotton with your wetness while you are at work.

Did your cheeks flush with the thoughts of him pummeling into you, stifling your moans through clenched teeth and bitten lip? Did you need to excuse yourself from the presence of your colleagues, escaping into the bathroom, checking each empty stall before choosing the one at the end? Did your hands tremble as you fumble with the lock, before pressing your back up against the door as you lift your dress up and slide your fingers into your aching depths?

Kokushibo presses his nose up against the underwear and inhales, and is greeted by the faint scent of sweet-salty musk – the same notes that he finds when he dives between your legs. His hand reaches for the tent in his trousers, rubbing himself through his sweatpants. This feels wrong – debased, even; jerking off to your underwear like some pervert lurking around the laundromat.

And truthfully, if he wanted, needed, you so badly, then you are but a text or a phone call away; but as Kokushibo growls into his hand, thinking about the silky wet of your folds, the threads of glistening juices that clings to his fingers as he strokes your cunt, there is very little regard on his part on what is right. And right now, he is stroking himself swiftly and firmly; it is not like how you do it, with your languished motions and endless patience for teasing out his pleasure – but he is not here for prolonged foreplay. The rough texture of his sweatpants makes for excellent friction, and he runts up against his hand, angling himself precisely to glide his cockhead over the fabric.

It does not take long for him to climax, and he does so with a jerk of his hips and a ragged growl into the inside of his boxers. A dark patch blooms over his sweatpants, mirroring the faint mark on your underwear, and for a few seconds Kokushibo simply stares down at his lap, dazed by the quickness which he brought himself to completion. His cock is still twitching weakly as he thinks of you, and what you will say if you were to come through the doors right now, arms full with the groceries for the week ahead. Will you scold him for making a mess? Or will you let him bend you over the washing machine, paper bags and laundry basket equally forgotten?

Alas, these questions will have to wait as Kokushibo gets up on shaky feet. He pulls off his trousers and boxers with his clean hand and washes them in the basin; and when he comes back, he gives the offending piece of garment – that wicked, ordinary pair of grey panties – a final look before chucking them all in the wash.

For more of my writings, check out my AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vraisetzen/pseuds/vraisetzen

#vraisetzen #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo smut #michikatsu x you #michikatsu x y/n #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu smut #kny reader insert #demon slayer reader insert

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ggoojjoo · 1 year ago

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black ysl

— pairing : gojo staoru x f!reader x geto suguru

— synopsis : satoru and suguru were head over heels for you, and when they finally find the opportunity to have you, it’s one hell of a ride!

— contains : smut with little to no plot, profanities, mentions of violence(?), reader is oblivious asf

— wc : 2.2k

— note : not my fave but it's cool hihi

tumblr is based on reblogs!

smut warnings : semi-public sex (in the bathroom of a club damnit), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, threesome, eiffel tower(?), oral (m), fingering (f), slight overstimulation, mentions of spit, praise, that was all i think

That Satoru and Suguru were attracted to you was an understatement, they were worshiping the ground you were walking on! And everybody but you seemed to notice that. Shoko was on the point of ripping her own hair out when you were so oblivious to the flirting the two tall men initiated, and you just looked at them with an innocent smile.

“Hey, princess!” You heard Satoru call out for you across the training field, making you stop punching the curse induced puppet in front of you. Satoru jogged over to you, his eyes peeking over his round sunglasses. As soon as he reached you he wrapped his arms around you in a hug, you, of course, were complaining due to how sweaty you were. “I don’t care, princess. So, how’s training going?” He asked, looking at the mangled puppet.

“Ah, it’s going pretty good,” you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “What brings you here anyway? Isn’t it your day off?” You asked, eyes round in curiosity, which sent a shiver down Satoru’s spine.

And just as he was about to answer your question, a heavy arm fell onto your shoulders, making you twist your neck to see the offender. “Oh, we just wanted to know if you want to join us tonight.” Suguru’s smooth voice invaded your ears. “To the club, I mean.” He finished the thought, looking down at you with a smirk curved on his lips.

You thought for a few seconds, shrugging. “Yeah, why not?” You smiled at the men, missing their glances they exchanged between each other.

“Sweet! We’ll pick you up at eight!” With that, they bid their goodbyes and walked away.

You took your shower, did your hair, and make-up. Now you were stuck on wearing an outfit. One of your options was a black YSL body-con dress that was short enough to barely cover your ass cheeks, showing off your legs, paired with a pair of black YSL heels. Your other option was a pink Gucci dress that reached just above your kneecaps and was a bit flowy, but had a deep V-cut, paired with white, knee-high boots. A loud groan left your lips as you turned to grab your phone, dialing Shoko and calling her on face-time. The phone rang a few times until Shoko picked up with a loud yawn, cigarette smoke flying around her. “When are you gonna quit smoking?” You asked sarcastically, knowing she will never quit.

“Cut the crap and show me your options, I know why you just called me.” A soft giggle left your lips as you flipped the camera, showing the two dresses on your bed, paired with their designated shoes. “Ooh, (Y/N), hard one, really. But I think you should go with the black one.” She said, looking at the dresses. “Yeah, yeah, go for the black one, and put some nice underwear on! Maybe you’ll get laid tonight.” She laughed as you flipped the camera to yourself again.

“I think I’ll have to go braless, though. But I’ll make sure to pick out my prettiest panties.” You winked at the camera before putting it on your bed and getting changed, putting some lotion on and spraying your perfume. “Almost done!” You called, slipping the dress over your form and putting on the heels. “Done,” you sighed, taking your phone and turning it to a full length mirror to show off your outfit. The YSL logo on your heels glimmering in the dark as your calves were shining from the lotion you used, glitter scattered over your skin. The dress was a beauty in itself. “So, how is it?”

Shoko’s gasp made you smile, posing for the woman. “(Y/N), I’d fuck you then and there! I will kill you if you don’t get laid tonight!” You laughed heartily as you flipped the camera again, putting your phone on the dresser to arrange your small purse, putting your wallet and some tissues inside. You also put the lipstick and perfume you used inside, in case you need to freshen up. “Are the guys gonna pick you up?” Shoko asked, looking at the time. You just nodded at her question as you checked your hair again, and talk of the devil, your doorbell rang.

“See you, hun!” You blew her a kiss before hanging up and walking to your door. As you opened the door to the tall men, a whistle echoed through your hall. “Hi, guys!”

Satoru and Suguru looked over your outfit, each having a smirk painted on their faces. “Let’s go, princess.” Satoru offers his arm, which you gladly take, walking beside them. Outside was the expensive Mercedes Satoru had gotten not long ago, and ever the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, Suguru getting in the backseat. “Then let’s go and have some fun, yeah?”

Your eyes roamed the whole club as you sat by the booth, sipping on your drink, Satoru and Suguru nowhere in sight, probably flirting. You didn’t mind, though, you liked a bit of fun on your own. “Hello there, sweets, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone?” You heard a man call next to you, loud enough to be heard over the music.

Turning around, you sent him a smile as you leaned back on the booth, crossing your legs. “Nothing, just having fun. Why are you alone, stranger?” Your head tilted to the side a bit, your hair sliding off your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m just trying to get you, pretty girl, with me on the dancefloor. If I may,” he said, reaching his hand out for you. A smile breaking out on his face when you took it, walking with him to the dancefloor. “The name’s Toji.” With that his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer as you two danced to the rhythm of the song. A sudden shiver ran through you as you continued to dance with Toji, your eyes darting around to see Satoru and Suguru staring at you over Toji’s shoulder. You sent a wink their way. Toji leaned over, lips over your ear. “What’s your name, sweets?” He asked, a smirk curved on his lips.

And just as you opened your mouth to answer, two big hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, hitting a hard chest. “Gotta steal her from you, big guy.” It was Satoru, and not even a second later, Suguru appeared behind Toji, pulling him back from you. You felt Satoru’s breath as he whispered into your ear, “Let’s have fun, shall we?” His hands made their way to your hips and Suguru’s to your waist. A blush creeped on your face as the two men sandwiched you between their hard bodies, grinding and pushing against each other. You looked up to see Suguru smirking down at you, his eyes fixed on the way yours sparkled in the purple and blue lights of the club.

A soft gasp fell from your lips as you felt Satoru pull you impossibly closer to himself, hips moving against your lower back, and Suguru was doing the same to you but his hips were moving against your lower belly. A soft moan left your lips as they both leaned in, breathing against your skin. “So pretty for us, huh, princess?” You giggled at them, pushing harder against them. The alcohol in your system obviously helps you get over your shyness. Both of your hands wrapped around Suguru’s shoulders, pulling his chest against yours, ghosting your lips over his hot neck. Said man shot a glance over your shoulder to the blue-eyed sorcerer behind you. “Wanna take this upstairs, princess?”

Loud moans and whines flew around the hot restroom as Suguru’s fingers were working your pussy, the loud squelches almost drowned out by the blaring music outside, almost. “Ah, Suguru, please!” You didn’t know what you were pleading for, but it was something. Satoru’s hands never left your boobs as he sat on the counter behind you, you between his legs, feeling his hard-on prodding against your back. One of your legs was hooked on Suguru’s hips as your arousal slowly ran down your thigh, the golden YSL heel shining in the dim light.

“You sound so pretty.” Satoru slurs against your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin. “So pretty for us, yeah, princess. All for us, right?” Satoru didn’t seem to shut up, pulling moans and whines out of your swollen lips. “Is Suguru fingering you well, princess? Come on, tell me.” Another moan cut through the air as Suguru curled his middle and ring finger the way you like, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit.

“Awe, pretty baby,” Suguru cooed, “what do you want? Tell me, what do you want?” A stray tear slipped from your eye as you looked at Suguru with a pout on your face. The long-haired sorcerer chuckled darkly as he smashed his lips against yours, sucking your cries out of your lungs.

You felt yourself near the edge as Satoru’s lips kept their place on your skin and his fingers on your nipples, pussy clenching around Suguru’s fingers. “Are you going to cum, angel? Come on, cum on my fingers.” That was enough for you to fall over the edge, moaning and shaking in the men’s grips. This was one of your most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, stars littered across your vision.

You felt two pairs of hands on you, eyes half-lidded and a dazed smile on your face. “Fuck me,” you sighed, giggling.

Hearing the both men chuckle made a shiver run down your spine, their hands on you tightening. Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru switched places with you now bent over Suguru’s lap as he sat on the counter, leaking cock free out of its pants and standing tall. You felt yourself drooling at the sight, your hand wrapping around his base. “Not so innocent now,” Satoru slurred as he pushed his pants down and your panties to the side, pussy swollen and glistening with your wetness and Suguru’s spit. “Fuck, princess,” Satoru groaned.

“So compliant,” Suguru whispered as his hand found the back of your head, lips attached to the base of his cock and licking your way up. “Come on, suck my dick while Toru fucks you nice and good.” You whined as you felt Satoru’s large tip prod against your hole, clenching. And with one swift movement, he was balls-deep inside you. Good thing Suguru prepped you. “Fuck,” Suguru groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans, “keep sucking, angel.”

Doing as told, you wrapped your lips around his length and hollowed your cheeks, letting your tongue slide over the underside of his shaft. While you were sucking the sorcerer off, Satoru was behind you, hands gripping your hips for dear life as he fucked you, his hands leaving a few spanks here and there, red hand prints evident. One specifically harsh thrust made you jolt forward, Suguru’s cock slipping deeper into your throat, making you gag pathetically. “Sorry,” Satoru strained, eyes fixed on the way your pussy left a white ring of arousal on his milky cock.

Satoru stopped moving, your whines of protests muffled by his friend’s cock in your mouth. And then, all of a sudden, the white-haired man gripped your hips and smashed his against yours, creating loud noises that echoed through the hot restroom. You felt your knees give out from under you at the sheer force Satoru fucked you with, but thankfully his grip never faltered. With a gasp, you pulled away from Suguru’s cock, jerking him off instead. Your tongue ran over his tip, eyes looking up at his face filled with pleasure. “Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.” You smiled, sticking your tongue out and slapping his heavy tip against your tongue, pathetic moans leaving your used throat as Satoru was still fucking your from behind.

A loud gasp ripped out of your lungs as Satoru’s fingers found your swollen clit. “Oh my god, Satoru, I’m gonna–” You heard a hearty laugh from above you, Suguru’s hand now in your hair as he shoved you down on his cock again. “If you’re gonna cum, then you’re gonna cum with my dick in your mouth.” His words sent a shiver through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. “Fuck,” he gasped, hips twitching against your face as he was only a few more thrusts away from his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around Satoru’s cock, his fingers never ceasing their movement as your orgasm took over. Thighs shaking and knees barely holding you up, you tried your best to keep sucking Suguru’s cock, but to no avail. He harshly pulled you off of his cock and held you by your hair, his fist tight around himself he came onto your face. White spurts of cum dripping down your chin and onto your cleavage.

And at last, Satoru came with a loud moan, pressing himself impossibly deeper into your cunt and painting your walls white. His hips kept rutting into your cunt as he came down from his high, your whimpers of overstimulation shooting the men’s egos up.

You felt Satoru’s hands rub your sore ass as he whispered, “You did so good, princess.”

The next morning you were spent, not wanting to move one inch as Shoko came running into your apartment. “Tell me you got railed?”

“Shut up.”

@ggoojjoo 2023 | © do not steal or plagiarize

i do not own the jujutsu kaisen franchise nor the characters!

#jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #geto smut #suguru smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Just a goofy little thing that’s been on my mind the last couple of days.

Steddie The Dating Game style!

Steve is the one asking questions and they have given him three choices: Tommy the Prep, Billy the Punk, and Eddie the Metalhead.

The first question Steve asks is if they were trying to impress him on their first date, what would they do?

Tommy: I’d pick you up in my Jag, fly you out to the French Riveria and have champagne on the terrace watching the sun set.

Billy: I’d pick you up in my Camero, drive you to the fanciest restaurant in town, taking you to a five star hotel and fuck you into the mattress.

Eddie is looking over at these assholes like WTF: I’d find out your favorite places to go, start with making you breakfast in bed, take you out for a picnic of all your favorite foods, then do something fun like the roller rink or mini-golf. And then take you star gazing to finish the day.

Steve is stunned by all their answers, but Eddie’s the most.

As it goes on, Tommy’s answers get more and more extravagant and Billy’s gets more and more lewd. Eddie is trying to stay out of the pissing contest the other two seem to be engaging in.

Even Steve is getting tired of it. So he asks an offbeat question designed to throw Billy off and get him to shut up.

Steve: How do you feel about male lingerie?

Billy is confused and asks what that even is.

The host explains that it’s men’s underwear designed and made of the same materials that is found in women’s lingerie, but made to fit the broad shoulders, flat chest, and dick of men.

Billy frowns: For you or for me?

Steve rolls his eyes. He knows better than to say Billy: Me.

Billy smirks: You’d wear it once, Babe, and then I would rip it of you and fuck you until screamed my name.

It was exactly as disgusting as Steve thought it would be.

Eddie leans into the microphone even though it wasn’t his question: If that’s what you liked, I would buy as many as you wanted in all the best colors. Black of course. Red for sure. Maybe even a little pink one for kicks (cue Steve turning pink). I’d even do a little photo shoot for you in your favorites and then lovingly removed to make love with you.

Steve who had already been leaning toward Eddie for the sheer fact he wasn’t an ass like the other two, is smitten.

After he picks Eddie and they are getting ready for their date, he confesses that the question was meant to throw Billy, but after Eddie’s answer, he almost wants to try it. With Eddie.

Come to find out, Eddie was just as rich as the other two, he just wanted to make sure Steve had fun and not just throw money at him.

They quickly become the show’s biggest success story.

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #the dating game #ladykailtiha writes

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windycitysissysworld · 1 year ago

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Step Two: Pairing Panties With Outer Clothes

How is my little pantie-wearing girl coming along then?

This week’s task may quite possibly involve some more shopping. You have no doubt noticed that panties come in so many different design styles compared to boring male underwear. Have you ever thought why that is?

Why do women need different styles and designs of panties? That’s right sweetie, women have so much more choice in outer clothes. We have skirts, dresses, shorts, pants, and even jeans. All of these come in a variety of colors and fabrics. Some are form-fitting while others are loose-fitting. Some are high waist while others fit lower at our hips. All of these choices have a style of pantie that works the best.

For instance, wearing high waist panties with low rise jeans will just look super tacky with your panties sticking out the top of your jeans all the way around. Likewise low rise hipster panties with a high waist skirt, shorts or pants will show off an unsightly horizontal pantie line across your bum.

This week you will be looking at the outerwear that you have planned for the coming week and weeks. Then, honestly decide if the panties you have will give your outfit a flattering look. If not, then you will need to find the panties that will work with your outfit.

The good news is that I will give you a couple of options here of panties that work really well with certain types of male outerwear. Soon I will make a more detailed post covering all the styles of panties and the types of outfit that they will best match with. After all, when you step out in your Halloween “costume” you want to be sure that your underwear compliments your outfit perfectly.

There is a good chance that the panties you bought for step one of the program will be appropriate for at least one or two of your outfit choices. However, I am sure that you will need to expand your pantie collection with at least one new pair. Use what you have until your new panties arrive, but be sure to match your choice of pants to the panties you already have.

Last week you bought plain virginal white panties for your first steps toward femininity. This week be a little more adventurous with colors. By the end of this week, I expect you to have at least one pair of panties in pink. Look for options that are lacy and silky.

Before we look at the examples of panties to choose from, let’s summarize what your task for the week entails. Wear panties every day of the week. Match your pantie choice to the type of pants that you will be wearing. Go shopping via the Amazon links provided to find the style of panties that you need for the clothes that you want to wear.

One final point, be sure to wash out your dirty panties in the evening and dry them overnight.

Boy Shorts

Even though boy shorts got their inspiration from men’s briefs, there is nothing manly about these panties. This is especially true if you choose a pair that is satiny with a touch of lace. Boy shorts are rectangular on the thighs and are almost similar to hipsters but have a lower-cut leg. When To Wear: The good news about boy shorts is that because they fit horizontally below your bum cheeks they have no visible panty lines. This makes them one of the most versatile panties you can own. You can wear them under tight or looser fitted clothes including jeans, trousers, and shorts. If you wear your jeans on your hips be sure to choose your boy shorts that also fit lower on your hips, or look at a pair of hipsters.

Boy shorts can also be worn under skater skirts, tennis skirts or even as swimwear. Be aware that if you are wearing skimpy shorts or hot pants the legs of a pair of boy shorts will extend below the leg of your shorts and that will look a bit strange.

Classic Briefs

These are the regular everyday panties worn by millions of women the world over every day of the week. These are also the same style of panties that you wore during Step One of the program.

Classic briefs are one of the most comfortable styles of panties that you can get. Just be very aware of how tight your outer clothes fit across your bum because these also have the biggest possibility of giving you visible pantie lines.

Every girl keeps a couple of pairs of classic briefs in black as period panties as sanitary pads fit the gusset exactly and any leakage won’t cause permanent unsightly stains.

When To Wear: You can wear them under any high waisted jeans, pants, shorts, or skirts. Classic briefs are every girl’s first choice of panties under a dress

Hipster

Hipster panties are also often called hip-huggers as the waistband sits on your hips. Most hipster panties are styled very similarly to boy shorts but for the fact that the leg openings are cut higher.

Hipster panties are super comfortable and almost never show any panty lines.

When To Wear: You can wear hipster panties with any low waist jeans, pants, shorts and skirts. In fact, I would only not wear hipsters with yoga pants and other gym wear.

Thong

There is nothing that screams sexy like a thong. And that is exactly how you will feel all day wearing one. Every time you sit down you will be aware of how exposed your bum cheeks are. Doesn’t that sound so wonderfully erotic sweetie?

Your sexy thong will sit almost three inches below your waist and will rest almost on your hip bone. Your thong will have a normal triangular patch at the front. However, you will have very minimal butt coverage. It is that exposed feeling that will give you that deliciously erotic tingle when you wear them.

When To Wear: Thongs work best with body contouring dresses, shirts, pants, shorts, and jeans. They work superbly with yoga pants too. Any time that you want to be 100% sure to avoid panty lines, wear a thong. In the change rooms at the gym, I just about only see thongs around me. No girl ever wants to show panty lines at the gym

Some final thoughts on color choices

Please girls, when you are wearing white skirts, dresses or pants always match the color your panties to your skin tone and never the color of your outerwear. The same counts for when you are wearing light color outerwear that is not white

This is especially true if you have a darker skin tone or are suntanned.

I am sure that you already know that there is more to being girly than can be crammed into just 40 steps. This is especially so when we start adding beauty products, makeup, and fashion choices into the collection.

That is why it is vital for your growing girly education that you will be required to read at least one additional Pink Femme post each day.

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elderlyfish · 11 months ago

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I don't often see 616 octogoblin fans, so I must ask: May I trouble you for some personal headcanons?

Yes!!! I've been waiting for an opportunity to share, I even have character sheets :3

Possible trigger warning for mention of self harm and abuse!!!

Along with old men in their underwear

•Norman and Otto are engaged but every time they try to plan a wedding they get into a fight and try to kill the other then they get flattered by how well they know the other and end up making out mid-fight

•Otto loves kidnapping Norman for no reason other than that he wants him all to himself

•Norman has minor vitiligo but it's more noticeable now after bonding with carnage

•In gay man terms, Otto is a bear and Norman is a muscle daddy

•Norman struggles with self-harm

*feeling he deserves it and manic episodes

*Guilt from being the Goblin

•Otto and Norman go back and forth buying coffee for each other

•Norman has freckles since he's a stupid ginger, but he tries to cover the ones on his face with makeup

•Otto has stretch marks and is embarrassed of his body but pretends not to care so he doesn't seem weak for having insecurities

•Norman adores Otto's body and may or may not have a thing for his weight (self-projecting😔)

•Otto likes how thin yet strong Norman is but fantasies snapping his limbs or tearing him apart (lovingly)

•Norman LOVES rats, they brought him crumbs when his dad locked him away as a kid, and now every time lab rats are brought in he steals them

•After Otto's accident he stalked Norman for a long time

•Norman knew but he liked that he wasn't alone

•Otto will get flustered so easily, that his whole face will tint pink and sweat more but he doesn't show an expression

•Norman buys Otto sweaters every year on his birthday even after they stopped talking

•Otto's got big brown eyes

•Norman's eye color changes according to his mood as an after-effect of the Goblin serum

(Blue=neutral/calm/happy)

(Brown=sad/stressed/irritated)

(Green=angry/delusional/psychotic)

• Otto's voice claim is Michael Dorn (specifically Battle Beast from Invincible)

•Norman sounds like Slade from the original Teen Titans show

Yell at me and maybe I'll make Doc Ock and Goblin designs

#norman osborn #otto octavius #octogoblin #green goblin #doctor octopus #otto octavius x norman osborn #digital art #ask #ask answered #head cannons

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princelylove · 7 months ago

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OMG Your Highness Fugo canonically wears a thong!! i can't believe it nbjdukjdsnf i just read it and was like huh? 😭 i searched it and it is truee

Pannacotta wearing a thong has always made total sense to me for his character, and for his design. You don’t wear cut-outs riiiiight below your belt and wear briefs with them, you’d be showing the world whatever pattern you chose this morning.

What about the rest of Team Bucciarati's underwear, though?

I’m very big on ‘fem Giorno is canon and the cast just doesn’t realize it,’ although I’ve only publicly written for masc Giorno, which is a shame. Giorno is the type of girl whose bra always matches her underwear, she normally buys sets or pairs that match her bras. Her bras are wired, without padding, lord knows she doesn't need it. (DIO's genes wouldn't allow for a small chest, even if Giorno's ballet experience has made her thin, they're still There, just not absurdly big either.) The patterns are usually- you guessed it- roses and solid pale pinks or whites. Her underwear is just as ornate and delicate as you’d think- tons of lace, lots of bows, and a feeling like you're about to sell your soul if you remove them.

You can see the band of Guido's underwear when he stretches. He normally alternates between boxers and tight fitting trunks. Guido is the type of guy to be in absolute heaven if his fem darling were to give him her underwear- he'd wear them. It's like a special secret, and you're touching, even if it's not direct.... He's such a simple man. Guido normally buys high end clothes (my source is the very same interview that this anon cited, but I can link it as necessary), his philosophy naturally extends to his underwear. As for patterns, solid grey and black are fine, but he likes a little animal print too.

Trish is a victoria’s secret kinda girl, although she has some dolce & gabbana lingerie that she deeply treasures, and often wears as regular tops. Either Trish canonically wears push up bras, or Guido mistook her sizing whatever other bra she had on down for a push up, because of the tightness. Guido is not a reliable source, but I'm going to say that she likes push up bras because it's a very classic victoria's secret choice. As for her underwear, she probably favors bikini cuts or brazilians. She likes animal prints, stripes, and underwear with words on it. A pair with 'EAT ME' on the front is her favorite.

Narancia wears loose, non-clingy trunks. He gets upset if you tease him for wearing 'short' underwear, but doesn't exactly stop. Narancia likes breathable underwear, which is ironic, considering he prefers his tops to be tight fitting. He likes silly patterns, but he doesn't realize it doesn't come off as super mature. His favorite is a pair with cookies and crumbs on it. Narancia isn't the type to hand wash his delicates, he just throws them into the wash regardless of their material.

Leone either wears clingy trunks or trunk briefs. I'm not sure if that's the proper name for it, but I mean the one that looks like women's hipsters. He's fond of compression underwear, just without padding. He's got too much pride for padding, and doesn't really need it. Leone likes a little bit of lace on his hips, but finds it annoying to have them on his legs. Most of his underwear is pure black, but some of them have white lace instead. A few pairs have veeeery small ribbons on them in the front, with little charms on it. Yes, the charms are normally a small, metal 'A.'

Bruno is the type to switch between women's lingerie and very basic men's boxer briefs, depending on what he's going to do that day. For the women's lingerie, he likely prefers cheeky underwear or just thongs, as long as they're similar to the tattoo on his chest. For the boxer briefs, he prefers clingy types that go to his mid thigh. He wears the thongs significantly more than the boxer briefs.

#im not a man so i pray to god that these make sense #figuring out mens underwear wasnt on my 2024 bingo #yandere team bucciarati #yandere pannacotta fugo #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere guido mista #yandere trish una #yandere narancia ghirga #yandere leone abbacchio #yandere bruno bucciarati

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femmesandhoney · 1 month ago

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Went shopping today and the clothes advertised to little girls is disgusting.

Crop tops, shorts that end at the crotch, holes in the sides, arms cut out. For 5-6 year olds. My god.

And colours? Pink, cream, light pink, dark pink, purple, blue (as an accent or if it’s Elsa themed). Princesses, leopard print, frills.

And the boys actually have things that would fit. Their colour scheme is still green, blue, brown and white but the difference in themes or styles is clear.

Even socks! Small and frilly! The pants (underwear)! Pink and frilly!

I’m so angry! Who in their right minds designs these for little girls? Who in their right mind agrees to sell them? Who in their right mind buys them? I know my sister would never dress my niece in these things but the amount of woman that would because it’s ’trendy’ or ‘expected’ or they just have no other options is mad.

Its because people just shop and do not think about these choices too much in their daily lives. Their daughter needs a new back to school outfit, they hit up the girls section in target because that's just what you do. Their entire life their parents did the same for them, its a simple expectation and socialization rule. You may feel odd the first time you step into the boys/mens sections to shop for your kid or yourself and not really understand why, but the "why" is literally just because you're going against the little rule formed in the back of your mind that females must dress from the "feminine" sections and you're lowkey breaking social norms, which always feels weird. And most people don't think too hard while shopping for this stuff, they just know what the rules are and how not to feel like they're breaking social norms for themselves or their kids.

I do think girls and preteen clothing has gotten worse than it used to be though, if you'd compare like style mags for preteens in the early 2000s compared to, idk, tik tok style vids targeted at the same age group im sure its just as alarming the differences. Girls wanna follow the trends much more than adult women, they wanna mirror what their big sisters are wearing and the popular faces on their screens, and it should be up to the adults around them to help scale them back from too inappropriate choices but many parents do not care and will buy that stuff willingly. The way it affects younger and younger kids isn't surprising sadly, but its definitely a shame theres parents who don't wanna dress their little girls comfortably in general. I think we're slowly seeing more parents though go against traditional gender norms for their children and babies in particular, but its not overnight.

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magnoliacharmed · 2 months ago

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more, more, more

18+, Edge x Randy Orton one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Tags: lace panties, vibrators, frottage, jealousy, biting, slight feminization, Randy realizes things

Word count: 3076

Summary:

Edge convinces Randy to try some new things.

“What do you think? Would they look good on Veronica?”

Edge held up a pair of lacy white panties with light pink trim and a tiny light pink bow right on the front. They were pretty, a classic design for a sweet and ladylike young woman. He raised his eyebrows and smiled widely with a naughty twinkle in his eye, mashing at his gum like he was so fond of doing.

“Veronica thinks she’s innocent enough for those just because she’s blonde?” Randy took one glance at Edge’s smirk and rolled his eyes. He sure was getting a kick out of all this, the freak.

“I think she can be when she wants to, which as you know is very rarely.”

Edge tossed the underwear back into its little pile. Randy was really lame when he was embarrassed, it was annoying. He just couldn't get out of his own head.

“Well, what about these for Lauren? They seem like her style.”

Another pair in the same design, black with white trimming and a matching bow, was dangled in Randy’s face. He snatched them out of Edge’s hands and rubbed the lace between his fingers as discreetly as possible, liking the way they felt. They were nice, he had to admit. Cute but not cutesy. They'd probably make his ass look great…

“Hi, do you two need help with anything? Any recommendations for the women in your lives?”

A very eager, very enthusiastic saleswoman with dark brown hair bounded over to Randy and Edge. Her hands were behind her back, her chest puffed out to give her Bombshell bra and what held it some attention. Both men zeroed in on her cleavage and determined that she was a pretty good advertisement for the Victoria's Secret padding technology.

“No sweetheart, we’re okay. Thanks though.”

Edge winked at her and like he expected, the girl giggled before turning away. It was enough to irritate Randy even more. It's not like he had any problems getting women-- by this point they were chasing him. It wasn't even enjoyable any more since they started appearing in his hotel room half naked or "accidentally" brushing against his crotch at the club. Edge was still having a good time being a flirt, whispering sweet nothings in their ear and leaving light touched across their backs until they went home with him for the night. When Randy was sipping at his drink as the ladies pawed at him in their private section, he let his eyes glaze over while Edge reveled in an abundance of female attention. He already knew how it felt to do the picking up; sometimes, when he was especially drunk, he wanted to know how it felt to be picked up by someone like Edge.

“Mmm,” Edge tilted his head and let his eyes rest on the saleswoman’s ass while she bent over to make extra-super-sure that her sneaker was tied tightly.

“Is she hotter than Lauren?”

"Who, Little Miss Push-Up Bra over there? No way."

Edge lowered his voice as he grabbed back the black and white underwear from Randy, who was looking weirdly upset. Fire burned blue in his eyes as his lips poked out, all pretty and kissable. Randy could be the cutest thing when he was angry. Edge loved upsetting him off just to see him pout and puff up his chest.

"Lauren has great tits and a nice waist that I hope she lets me see later. Plus she makes noises when she comes that get me hard to the point I can't think straight."

Oh, so this is what being chatted up by him felt like. Huh. The air of the tiny store weighed down Randy's lungs.

"I don't think I've met anyone hotter than her, to be honest. Whenever she's not around, all I do is think about fucking her until she begs me to stop. I even think about her when I'm with other women." Edge said this with so much conviction that Randy blushed. They'd never done anything more than stare at each other while they masturbated in the same room. All those times Edge was thinking about him and not some rat he'd fucked in the past? How flattering.

The champions were starting to get funny looks from other customers. To be fair, they did look out of place. Two giant men in gaudy Affliction t-shirts staring at panties while thumping pop music played over the speakers? One frozen stiff, more turned than he'd ever been before in his life? The other looking as crazy as ever, ready to pounce on his prey? By this point they were obviously not trying to buy something for their girlfriends.

"Let's go get in line," Edge was all business now, tamping down his hard-on.

“Okay. Wait, which pair did yo— Veronica choose?”

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever she chose, I promise you it very much fits her personality.”

“All this parading around you were doing and you already had an idea in mind for her?”

“Sure. She just wanted to weigh out her options. Also it was fun to see Lauren squirm around too."

"You piece of shit." Randy lunged forward as Edge brushed him off to head to the cashier.

---

“This is so embarrassing.”

Randy couldn't take his eyes off of himself in the mirror. Was he being punked? Was Edge running some kind of blackmail con job on him? Were there hidden cameras somewhere in the room? This had to be revenge for all of the many pranks Randy had pulled on him over the years.

No, he really was standing in a random hotel room in a pair of lace panties. Out of the many directions life could've taken him in, this was one of the last ones he expected.

“Don’t be dramatic, you look sexy. Oh, will wearing the belt make you feel better?”

Before Randy could answer, Edge was up and across the room to grab one of their tag team titles. He fastened it around Randy’s waist and patted the cold metal.

“Huh. Now instead of being an idiot wearing women’s underwear, I’m an idiot wearing women’s underwear and a championship belt. Yeah, I feel a lot better now,” Randy huffed. So whiny.

“You can be such a crybaby sometimes, geez. Here, I’ll put mine on too. Then at least we can be idiots together.”

Randy watched as Edge put on his own belt and surprisingly, he did feel a little less stupid. The gold of the title shined in the ugly hotel lighting, highlighting the nicely wrapped package Edge was sporting. He'd chosen a pair of panties that was very Him: black and red, barely enough fabric to be considered a thong. They barely contained his length, a drool-worthy sight for Randy.

“I don’t know why I was so shocked to learn that you’re into perverted shit like this.”

Randy's dick was getting hard at seeing himself in such a delicate fabric. When Edge first brought this whole idea up they were both damn near blackout drunk and Randy was ready to agree to anything that would keep Edge interested in him.

(The memory makes Randy curse himself: “You know what would be… you should-- ah, man." Edge flopped on the bed. The ceiling was spinning above him precariously. Maybe if he shut his eyes he could get off this ride. A limp index finger pointed towards a thin piece of fabric on the floor. "Panties," he slurred.

"What?"

Randy stopped himself from falling right on top of his partner by instead straddling him. His head lolled around to rest his glassy eyes on a brightly colored thong some girl they brought back left behind. Was Edge saying what he thought he was saying?

"Iwannaseeyourdick. In… panties." Edge passed out then, softly snoring and leaving Randy high and dry for the night. The next morning Randy agreed to the proposition, but only if Edge wore them too. You know, to even the playing field.)

“You need to relax, Randy,” Edge brushed his lips against Randy’s ear, his cock pressed against his ass as he continued to whisper. “Let go, let yourself enjoy it all.”

"I shoulda never let you talk me into this," Randy shook his head at himself. He tried to lace his voice with regret. It was hard to though when Edge, ever the sneaky bastard, was breathing in his ear and rubbing his cock against him and he was so warm and he had those big pretty eyes and long hair—

“Talk you into what? From what I can recall, you were the one who brought the whole idea back up,” Edge laughed and snaked his hand down past Randy's stomach to palm at his cock. They’d never done anything more than watch each other masturbate (which was starting to get a little stale if you asked Edge, no matter how much watching Randy twist his hand around his lubed up dick turned him on).

"Fuck off, you were one who said it in the first place."

"You sure about that? I was so drunk I can't remember a thing from that night," Edge bit into Randy's shoulder. Grabbing on to said shoulders, he turned Randy around to face him. It was kind of nice to be with someone the same height as him.

"Come on, come sit in my lap. I've got something else for you."

Edge moved to sit against the headboard of their king sized bed, legs spread wide open. He bit at his smiling bottom lip invitingly, like a pin-up girl or something, caressing his cock like it was a compulsion with one hand and taking off the belt with the other. As Randy sat himself in Edge’s lap, grinding against his crotch and removing his own belt, he settled quickly into his new position. It was comfortable enough. Randy could easily imagine himself bouncing on his cock sitting just like this.

"Close your eyes."

Edge rubbed his hand against the small of Randy’s back, his fingers inching towards Randy’s ass. He was getting antsy now that they'd gotten this far. Randy had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he missed Edge coating his fingers in lube (probably hid the bottle under the blankets, Randy thought too late) and maneuvering himself under the seat of his underwear. This was maybe the second or third time he let Edge get this close near his ass and his nerves were totally shot over the whole thing.

”So tight, Randy. So perfect," Edge cooed. He'd only pushed himself in and out of his tight ring of muscle a few times before Randy was fucking himself back onto his fingers. "When are you gonna let me put my tongue in there?"

"Never, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Randy twitched a little seeing Edge's smirk. If fingers felt this good, a wet tongue was probably insane. Edge was being a real tease at the moment, Randy knew it. Fingers couldn't be his big surprise for the night.

"Okay, you ready?"

"Ready for what-- FUCK," Randy yelled.

Fingers were replaced by, no doubt, the most intense sensation Randy had ever experienced before in his life. Edge managed to slip a skinny vibrating dildo into Randy's ass with one push, throwing the man currently writhing above him for a loop. It sent Randy reeling, his hips moving on their own volition to rub his dick against his panties and Edge's stiff cock. They both hissed at feeling themselves rub against one another.

Edge took the opportunity to press Randy’s pliable body against his chest, reveling in the way he trembled and squirmed around. He left small love bites across the pecs he loved so much, careful not to bruise his perfect chest. Randy’s skin was on fire from, blazing hot and burning him up from the inside out. There was no way this was happening right now, no way he could ever feel this damn amazing.

"I love your tits," Edge breathed softly, pushing them together over and over again. It only served to make Randy move faster trying to feel Edge's dick twist against his own while he tried his hardest to get the toy deeper inside him.

“I— oh my God, Edge, what the fuck… this feels— oh…”

Randy continued to stammer as he shoved himself farther down on the smooth toy, chasing after the high that it was bestowed upon him. It buzzed loud and harsh in Edge’s fingers, a cheap battery-operated thing he bought at the mall’s gag gift store while Randy was off signing autographs in the food court. The teenage boy cashier gave him a weird look when he handed it to him, but didn't say a word. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain to his friends that he sold a dildo to a famous wrestler.

With an incredibly shaky hand, Randy reached to grab onto Edge's free wrist for some purchase. It was all too much, everything from the toy to the way the underwear felt against his cock to the way Edge felt against his cock and goddamn his brain was going to pour out from his ears. Tears began to cloud his vision and spill down his overheated face and he wondered how much more pathetic could he be?

"Shit, I'm gonna— I’m gonna come."

“Uh-huh. You always do all that talking about how you don't want anything up your ass. Now look at you,” Edge whispered, as venomous as ever as he licked up Randy’s sweat. The words stung Randy, his body jolting into the air as Edge filled him to the hilt. Fine whatever, he was a hypocrite. He saw the light, praise Jesus and hallelujah! If only Edge could stop being so smug about it and just keep pushing against his prostate.

“Can you shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

Edge thought his head was going to snap right off his neck with the speed he reached forward to kiss Randy with. He breathed in deep as he felt Randy’s thrusts against him become more deliberate. Sudden embarrassment washed over him from the flood of passion Randy possessed him with. His tongue was so soft, it swirled so nicely around his…

“Oh, look at how wet you are… All from one little— one little kiss. I thought I was supposed to be… the desperate one.”

The smile that broke up Randy’s features could only be described as delirious. In the midst of all his pleasure, he managed to find it in him rib Edge about the stream of precome that created a wet spot on his panties. Scrunched up eyebrows showed that Edge was trying his hardest to come up with a quippy retort. Unfortunately for him, certain distractions made him fall short. Holding the toy in place with Randy filled up was the best he could come up with, and what a response it gave him.

”I need you to — please, I need to feel you inside of me. Want you …” Randy’s voice pitched up, but his words died away. He realized that he started whining, upset that he wasn't getting fucked like he wanted. The vibration of the toy felt better than great, close to heavenly. He could bet though that it was nothing compared to (Randy gazed down hungrily at Edge’s cock straining and slipping against the lace) what having an actual real cock inside of him must feel like. That would be his true undoing, he thought.

“Want me to what? Want me to come inside you? Is that why you're pouting? I’ve been wanting to do that since—“ A moan cut Edge’s thoughts into fragments. “Since the first time we watched each other jerk off. Fuck, since we first started tagging together. You’re so hot, Randy.”

Motormouth Edge, always talking his head off when he was close. It was nothing but sex soaked babbles that wormed into Randy’s head every time, the roughness in his voice exciting him. Thinking about Edge’s come dribbling out of his ass, his muscles spasming involuntarily to keep it all inside of him…

Randy's orgasm felt like a taser being pressed right at the base of his spine, a total system failure that turned his body to jello for a few seconds while it wracked through him. Edge felt the wet spot between them spread even further.

When he came back down to earth, Randy looked on lazily as Edge pulled the toy out and continued to rut against his completely overstimulated cock. He blinked heavy damp lashes at his tag team partner below him, mesmerized by the way Edge was staring a hole through him in return.

“Hurry up and come for me, you know I like to watch you,” Randy demanded.

Edge grabbed onto Randy’s hips and wished he was being surrounded by the tight heat of his hole. Feeling his dick slide around next to his own was a pretty good consolation prize too. Even when Randy was actling like jerk it was still sort of endearing, and it didn’t take Edge much longer for his come to spurt out thinking of fucking all that attitude out of him. Maybe next time, if Randy was ready.

The two men panted and assessed each other. They were sweaty, sticky, and as tired as if they’d just finished a match. Randy peeled himself off of Edge, who looked like he was close to passing out. He figured now was as good a time as any to finally take the stupid underwear off.

“Be careful with those, don’t rip ‘em. We can use them again.”

“There’s not a washing machine in the world powerful enough to get all of our come and sweat out of these. They’re a lost cause,” Randy threw the well worn pair of panties in the bathroom’s trash can with no fanfare. That experiment was over.

“You’re no fun, Randy.”

Edge followed him into the bathroom, walking past him to start up the shower.

“As evidenced by letting you put a vibrator up my ass, I’m plenty of fucking fun. I'm a whole amusement park’s worth of fun. Get in the shower before you really piss me off.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch— ow!”

Randy punched Edge in the arm under the stream of warm water, both of them trying their hardest not to be the first to laugh.

#randy orton #adam copeland #wrestling #magnoliafanfic #wrestling smut #wwe smut #rated rko

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dragon-sentinel · 1 year ago

Text

I have already seen my fair share of

"Barbie is great because it teaches girls they can be hyperfeminine and pink and glittery etc. etc. and still be empowered. Barbiecore!! It has nothing to do with pleasing men. Men hate the movie, see?

Also, it's not bad if girls are taught to "have fun" with make-up from an early age on."

And I just get so tired. I wish people would understand the effects and the role of femininity (even the version that "supposedly does not revolve around men and is hated by them") in our larger cultural context and how femininity is part of a gendered hierarchy.

It does not exist in a vacuum and cannot be divorced from the damaging history of femininity's social function as a reinforcement of sexism, patriarchal dynamics and gendered hierarchies.

It doesn't just go away because of a fun movie.

Don't get me wrong. Barbie is a good movie and I am not saying it has no value or doesn't also teach women many good things.

But two things can be true at the same time.

Barbie can reinforce good messages (women can have great careers, STEM jobs, be successful, call out sexual harassment etc.) while also reinforcing harmful messages with regard to other cultural facets such as beauty standards, make-up culture and the alienation of women's natural faces (and this being pushed onto young girls too), fear of aging, having to embody a set of pleasing "aesthetics", wearing clothing/looks that can be unpractical restricting and demand lots of self-monitoring (increasing a woman's cognitive load because part of her attention always has to check whether her skirt didn't go up too high to prevent flashing her underwear, whether her make-up smudged, whether her hair is in place etc.) and spending lots of time, money and resources on beauty and fashion-related products and practices.

Those things ARE harmful femininity. And only because you think a subset of men don't like it doesn't mean it doesn't reinforce and teach these basic concepts of women being valued immensely for their decorative appearance.

(Also, more on that whole "men don't like these aesthetics" down belove because I think this claim also needs to be looked at with more nuance.)

These messages are not mutually exclusive. The same piece of media can absolutely provide very good commentary on one topic while giving bad commentary on another.

"But pink is just a color and there is nothing wrong with glitter."

I agree! But Barbie's aesthetics are the full package of femininity.

Because it is not just about glitter or about pink. Barbie's default isn't running around in pink sweatpants with a glittery oversized hoodie and purple crocs with messy hair and no make-up. Or some funny fantasy clown make-up.

Barbie generally looks conventionally stunning.

She wears carefully selected, perfectly designed beautiful and feminine outfits, styled through and through from head to toe.

And even if there is some ironic twist somewhere in the movie, its entire advertisment and PR are very explicitly focused on those hyperfeminine aesthetics.

Her event and PR outfits referencing iconic Barbie looks and the hyperfeminine aesthetics in trailers and promotional material to grab people's attention are a core part of their campaign.

That is also socialization. It still presents these things as attractive and desirable, as it reinforces that people should find these things appealing and direct their attention towards them.

I am aware that the movie also comments on body odor or cellulite.

I know it has moments like America Ferrera's monologue and I appreciate these things but this doesn't erase the rest of the aesthetic narrative of the movie, which does want you to enjoy and have fun with those pink hyperfeminine aesthetics. It is part of your viewing pleasure.

Despite the good points it makes it simultaneously also wants you to be positively and genuinely entertained by the aesthetics.

When it comes to this, the movie has an "eat your cake and have it too" mentality because they want to (rightfully) criticize some damaging expectations superimposed on women by feminine gender roles, i.e., femininity. But they clearly also want to keep others. They think some of them are not actually harmful but fun, empowering, even though a thorough look at the femininity they promote as worth keeping will uncover that they still have disadvantaging effects on women and keep crucial parts of the patriarchal hierarchy intact.

And in some regards their messages are even contradictory. Because on the one hand they do want to criticize unrealistic beauty standards (see Gloria's monologue) but at the same time even "self-centered" femininity, wanting to look good, feminine, pretty "for yourself", expressing your "identity" with a certain type of feminine fashion, still has the aforementioned mental and material effects (altered relationships with our bare faces because of make-up, even if your "eyeliner that is so sharp that it can kill a man, is for yourself and yourself alone", spending lots of time and money on restrictive clothing and make-up products, placing a significant amount of value on your looks, constantly monitoring your outward appearance).

As women we have learned to lie to ourselves and live with this cognitive paradox constantly.

"We don't need to shave. But we do it because we "want to", because even though "we don't have to" for some reasons we all collectively still think it is unattractive and unfeminine. But hey we "choose" to shave so it's different!

Aging is totally fine! Women are allowed to age! But at the same time we invest lots of time and money in anti-aging products and routines but this time under the guise of self-care. We don't have to of course. We are perfectly fine with wrinkles! It's just an (odd, collective) "personal" preference that the majority of women would still rather look youthful forever. But this time it's different! It's a choice!"

Materially we are doing the exact same thing that we are conditioned to do by patriarchal norms but thanks to the rhetoric of positive femininity, choice and personal preference we do not need to actually change our behaviour. We can let the words, the impressive-sounding monologues, do "the work for us" to absolve us, while our actions remain the same.

At the end of the day, the movie doesn't really deconstruct the entire cage of femininity, its roots, and all the aspects that harm women. Instead they reframe and rename some of the same things as a celebration of positive femininity.

But simply keeping something damaging in place and renaming it doesn't remove its negative material effects.

It just serves as a dazzling, soothing paint job to distract you and make you feel better about liking it, even if it doesn't serve you.

Hence, it's clear that the movie wants you to think that these aesthetics themselves are or can be, on some level, still fun and good.

(Again, that doesn't mean that it doesn't also promote good messages at other moments.)

And the public reception proves it. Otherwise we wouldn't have those aforementioned takes on how "Barbiecore is empowering because it doesn't revolve around men and "women-centered" hyperfemininity is good."

(Though it has to be noted that whereas pink and glitter are inherently neutral, they have been assigned certain meanings, hence when they are used they do serve as social signifiers and messengers for certain ideas. They are like a condensed proxy or short-form of femininity that quickly and efficently evoke certain gendered ideas in the viewer just by having them look at it.

I think sub-cultures are a good example: Goth and emo fashion for women is not considered attractive by many average people, including average men. And I am pretty sure most goths and emos would tell you they wear this kind of fashion for themselves, to express themselves and not to fulfill any gendered (mainstream!) expectations.

But. Within these scenes there are very often STILL very distinct differences in the type of fashion men and women wear. And oddly enough they often align more with traditional gender expectations than they like to admit (even the higher degree of androgynity in male fashion in those scenes doesn't undo those dynamics - the sexualization and pornification of women in those scenes is very prominent).

Funny. One might wonder why this is the case.

So you still have feminine, pretty, sexy, lady-like goth and emo girls who might not appeal to the general public's taste. But within the scene they very much appeal to that scene-related male gaze.

So the basics of femininity are still taught and lived.

And in addition, if for some reason a woman were to change her style and leave those scenes she might let go of her specific fashion sense but she will most likely take the basic teachings of femininity with her: that there lies immense value in her being decorative (for men).

I honestly think many women are in denial about the fact that yes, even their "self-centered" femininity benefits men as it consolidates certain tranditional gendered roles. And I also think that women are often taught to lie themselves (amongst others by liberal feminism) with regard to how much they actually appreciate men's positive attention and feedback (and I don't blame them for wanting those things, that's how we are socialized, even on purely platonic levels. As a lesbian even I notice how much I often value and unconsciously want positive (platonic or professional) feedback from men in particular. We as a society value men's opinions and attention deeply.)

Coming back to Barbie I think all of this can be applied as well.

First, just as with non-mainstream femininity in alternative scenes "Barbiecore" still teaches the same basic concepts of decorative femininity, encouraging many of the aforementioned damaging behaviours connected to femininity (money, time, resources, cognitive load, value of external attractiveness/appeal), even if women believe they do it for themselves.

And if a woman moves on from pink, glittery Barbiecore to another type of feminine fashion these fundamental values will probably remain with her. At best they have not been challenged by Barbiecore, at worst they have been reinforced, but this time under the pretense of "self-love", self-care or focusing on one's self, ostensibly not serving the male gaze.

Second, it is naive to believe that no man finds Margot Robbie's Barbie and her looks attractive in the movie (just like there are enough men who think unconventional, i.e., non-mainstream, displays of femininity like gothic/emo etc. are attractive).

Given Margot Robbie's attractiveness and the fact that beyond the pink color palette, Barbie's feminine fashion itself is not really "outrageous" (vs. some scene clothing) I wouldn't be surprised if the number of men who are attracted to her movie character is actually higher than the "men hate barbiecore" idea wants to make one believe. They may say they don't but in my opinion it's an act to save face and demonstrate ostensible superiority, just like when they call beautiful women "mid". (Also as we know men are very well willing to fuck what they hate; it's just another display of "dominance").

I am actually very convinced that there is a significant amount of men who would totally dig the very same looks she is sporting if her behavior was different.

I believe they hate her despite her good looks because her personality does not align with their gendered expectations of what a woman should be.

So out of spite, as a punishment, they call her and her aesthetics ugly and childish - because they know beauty is one of the things women are primarily valued for in our society, hence it's an effective target to attack.

If she kept the look but acted like a 50s house wive I'm pretty sure many men would openly say how they are attracted to her (and objectify her).

And even if a portion of men may find the focus on pink genuinely childish they can still like the overall femininity the look reinforces. If you kept the same outfit but changed the colors and removed the glitter it would still be the same basic type of femininity. So with regard to fundamental gendered concepts nothing is really challenged here.

So yes, I genuinely think men hating on "girly" femininity is a lot more aligned with the "Margot Robbie is mid" defense.

They are very clearly attracted to her but they try to paint themselves as not interested, as above that, to display their "superior status and power" over her, because they hate her as a person now. (Or use it as an attempted power play to make girls insecure and - as another post said it perfectly - withold beauty from women because women are taught it's their social currency; so if even women like Margot Robbie are relegated to "mid" they feel self-conscious and weak and will try to win the men's favor to receive their approval - and thus be granted some of that withheld beauty.)

In essence, I really don't buy that men don't actually benefit from "women-centered hyperfemininity" and that it is the looks that don't appeal to them as a class (obviously individual tastes vary).

I am not saying that everything that received the label "feminine" is inherently bad. Compassion and empathy come to mind of course and in an ideal world we might also have separated the harmless parts of the aesthetics (cute fabric patterns like flowers etc., soft but also relaxing and practical cothing) from the harmful practices that reinforce regressive gendered ideas and also lead to increased cognitive load, self-image issues (esp. regarding our bare faces), spending lots of time, money and resources on these things etc.

But we do not live in this ideal world.

We need to treat femininity as the thing that it is in the real world right now. It already has a meaning and this meaning won't be deconstructed by elevating all of it and saying that the harmful parts are actually empowering, too, which is what is happening with those celebrations of barbiecore and pink hyperfemininity.

Your celebration of femininity does not occur in a vacuum.

You cannot pretend the social context in which you do this simply doesn't exist because it spoils your fun and pretend it doesn't actually have any unfavourable consequences for women.

It does.

Gender is a hierarchy, in which femininity is an active tool to place women below men.

That is the reality we need to deconstruct.

-----

A little extra that just came to my mind:

The gothic lolita scene used to have (and perhaps still has) the same kind of rhetoric, too: "We do it for ourselves. Not to appeal to the male gaze. Men don't like this kind of fashion anyway." But a) this is clearly…not true. Gothic lolita, including the non-revealing styles (which make up most of the styles actually), is still popular and fetishized by certain groups of men, precisely because of its (distinct interpretation of) feminine appeal. And b) it still ingrains many core believes of classic femininity into women that transcend the fashion style and reflect accepted and desired ideas about feminine gender roles in broader society.

So the mindset of "doing something that is in line with our sexist society's expectations "for yourself", hence it's different and does not reinforce the same sexist ideals" that women often adapt is a common, recurrent cognitive strategy to justify these preferences to ourselves and others.

Barbiecore is therefore not unique and suddenly above reproach. On the contrary. It perfectly fits a commonly found pattern.

#barbie #radfem #radical feminism #femininity #beauty #Again I'm not saying the movie is bad or has no value.#Not at all #I'm just done with the “feminity is super great actually” takes #my post

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wordsvomit101 · 7 months ago

Text

Gehenna Worldbuilding Draft 1 (with some canon divergence)

Author Notes: this is for fun, don't mind me, I'm just having a spiraling from a hihi haha moment of thinking about Minhyeok's kink to writing this 4.2k words mess. Idk how I got here. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(At Gehenna's capital city, Malebolge - 8:40 AM IST - Time of Dawn's Embrace)

"So Minhyeok secretly stole your underwear, Miss Raon?" Ppyong needs to control himself. He shouldn't make assumptions about his best friend. Miss Raon only said that her underwear sometimes went missing before miraculously appearing in her cupboard again. At Minhyeok's house. Minhyeok is a super organized and charismatic guy. The cowardly pretty man who can't even show his best friend how those white juices are made. However—

If that is true? Minhyeok would have the worst teasing he ever had in his life from Ppyong and maybe a bit of bullying for his (possible) sneaky and perverted behaviors. Not that he has any ground to stand on, but he wouldn't miss that chance to make fun of Minhyeok. His idiot friend has been hard to read lately. It is hard to know what is going on in that guy's head anymore.

"W-Well! I wouldn't say he 'stole' it per se…" the lovely lady with violet hair who is sitting across from him, nestled between Sir Leraye and Sir Paimon, blushed in embarrassment and tried to think for her next words as the three men patiently waited for her. Until the waitress with curled pink horns on either side of her head and wide deer-like eyes with slits in them comes over to get their orders, her jovial voice as light and dulcet as usual.

"Good days to you all, esteemed patrons! What can I get you today?"

They're sitting in the most well-known bakery in Gehenna, called "Delights Bakery", which specializes in crafting decadent desserts and pastries inspired by the fiery landscape of Gehenna. It has been around for a long time; they still stand strong even in the midst of war. They offer a wide range of treats including Chimera Molten Cake, Vesuvius Tiramisu, Ojoshew Panna Cotta, Brimstone Biscotti, and Fairy Dust Cannoli Gelato.

The bakery provides a cozy and welcoming atmosphere where customers can enjoy freshly baked goods alongside a cup of fiendishly delicious coffee or tea. They also offer custom cake designs for special occasions like birthdays, weddings, and anniversaries, allowing customers to personalize their desserts to suit their tastes.

Ppyong's personal favorite from this place is Brimstone Biscotti, a devilishly delicious treat that pairs perfectly with a cup of the place's signature Infused Fire Coffee. These crispy almond biscotti are infused with the smoky aroma of brimstone from the eastern plantation of Gehenna and studded with common sparkling chili flakes, creating a bold and intense flavor profile that is sure to awaken anyone's senses.

"Alrighty! Your orders are coming right up, please be patient!" With a cheerful hum, the cute waitress walks back to her station with slightness in her hooves-like legs with blossom fur. A misleading appearance to a devil that ruthlessly stomped on several angels' heads yesterday and handled almost everything here before help came. She even asked to keep their bodies for new recipes.

Once they finished their orders, Sir Paimon reserved an order of Mystic Amaretto Affogato to give to Sir Astaroth since they would meet after this meet-up. They got back to the topic.

"I most likely forgot to wash them and... just left them around. He often does my laundry anyway when he comes over to visit, but…"

Sir Paimon's beautiful and cheerful voice adds, "There'sss stillll a possibilityyyy he isss usingg it forrrr his ownnn pleasureee withoutttt telling youuu, if sooo, don't youuu thinkkk he needed a bitttttt of a scoldinggg?", he ends his statement effortlessly cute with a wide playful smile, his heterochromia blinking innocently as if he didn't just accuse Minhyeok of wrongdoings, and his pretty long lashes flutter above his cheekbone like two pairs of Ethereal Emberwing to Miss Raon as if seducing her to agree.

"I- I mean he could be- No wait! He wouldn't! He never showed any signs that he would use them for anything other than washing them for me," Miss Raon said with a bright red face as she tried to defend her best friend's honor now that the conversation turned into this, unlike how she first brought it up.

"Then shouldn't he be more straightforward with you? I don't think it is a problem if you're ok with it. Shouldn't he be more honest with his temptation?" Sir Leraye innocently pulls the topic back where Paimon wants it, and his charming face frowns as he closes his eyes, deep in thought.

"Even I wouldn't say I wash his underwear for him in his face! It would be embarrassing! And it would be more believable if he said he liked women's fashion instead."

"Huh? Minhyeok do aye?" That is a surprising twist, though it seems more unexpected in Ppyong's opinion since he knows Minhyeok did ask for Miss Raon's panty for his white liquid creation process.

"Minhyeok doesn't seem like that kind of guy aye, I've never seen him show any interest in dresses and makeup too aye. If anything, I think he hugged his baseball bat in his sleep aye," like a good friend, he keeps that to himself and emphatically looks up to Miss Raon in consolation as the chance that her best friend is sniffing her panty in secret is more likely than ever.

"I'm telling you it's not like that!-", her sentence was again cut off by the bright voice of the waitress, "Sorry for the interruption! Here are your orders!" Without looking at the table, she still expertly set out their meals in the right order while smiling happily at them, "While I would love to listen to this lively conversation, I got more tables to serve. Enjoy yourselves, fellas!"

"Thank you!" they all said in unison at the preceding figure of the waitress before excitedly digging into their desserts. Ppyong's cartoonish eyes light up with anticipation, and he can feel the drool from his mouth. He reaches eagerly for the plate of Brimstone Biscotti. The aroma of roasted brimstone and dark chocolate wafts up to his nose, and he can't resist taking a bite immediately.

With a satisfied grin, Ppyong chews slowly, savoring the rich flavors dancing on his taste buds. "Mn! As delicious as always aye!" he remarks between bites, crumbs scattering on the table with each enthusiastic gesture.

Sir Paimon, the refined gentleman that he is, delicately lowers his spoon into the Ojoshew Panna Cotta. The creamy dessert yields with a gentle resistance before surrendering to his touch, letting him savor each scoop with a pleased and graceful smile.

"Mnhmmm, thisss is perfectttt forrr this fineee weatherrr, isn't itttt?"

On the other side of the table, Sir Leraye's enthusiasm knows no bounds as he plunges his spoon into the Fairy Dust Cannoli Gelato. His eyes sparkle with childlike delight as he unearths the hidden treasures within the velvety layers of frozen delight. His sunny expressions bring peace to the hearts of everyone who witnesses it.

"Yeah! It has been a while since we got to hang out like this and with Raon too! Oh! This is the first time for you isn't it Raon? What do you think?"

Between the two attractive devils, Miss Raon picks up her Vesuvius Tiramisu, her eyes marveling at its intricate presentation. The dessert resembles a miniature volcano, with layers of sponge cake and creamy mascarpone erupting from the center. She takes a tentative bite, and her eyes widen in surprise and delight as she savors the decadent dessert.

Her expression mirroring the awe of a child experiencing something magical for the first time. "This is incredible," she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine amazement. They all smile at her quiet joy and let her enjoy her meal as they begin to talk among themselves.

As Sir Leraye and Sir Paimon delved into their discussion about future assignments, their voices took on a bit more serious tone, yet their postures and actions felt relaxed and full of confidence.

Sir Leraye took a thoughtful bite of his dessert, savoring the creamy sweetness before chiming in, "You know, Paimon, after this, I'm thinking of heading over to Sulfur Springs. The streets are always lively there and my men have been struggling quite a bit recently. Do you want to join me after you meet up with Astaroth?" Sir Leraye seems sheepish as he subtly requests Sir Paimon's assistance.

Sir Paimon gently tilted his head, and a few strands of his silky blonde hair softly fell over his right eye, his gaze composed as he thought.

"Sulfurrr Springsss, huhhhh? Thattt doess sounddd enticingg. Buttt I've gottt myyy sights settt on Shadowspireee attt the Tailll of the Wolffff. I heardd there's hasss beennn some spewinggg commotionn undergrounddd in thattt nightt cityyy from Belialll"

With a false tired sign, he let his head fall gently on Miss Raon's head as he chewed on his spoon between his rosy lips. His pretty eyes are saddened as he looks at Sir Leraye.

"'mm soo innn trenddd latellyy. Evennn Hiss Majestyyy Satan calll for meee to thee southernnn provincess of Ashennn Citadelll tooo..."

Sir Leraye smiled in understanding and pat Paimon on the shoulder, "It's OK! It's just a suggestion! Don't worry Paimon, me and my men can handle it! So just focus on your work and enjoy spilling blood as usual!" the devil with the bright monocle said good-naturedly and lightened the mood with his light laugh at the last part.

"Awww~ Thankkk youuu Lerayeee~ You're a sweetthearttt as usualll~," Sir Paimon smiled sweetly back at Leraye and straightened himself up to look at Miss Raon, who had been drawn into the lively conversation between the two after she helped Ppyong slice the Brimstone Biscotti into a smaller size for him to eat.

"It'ss unfortunateee thattt we can'tt spenddd moreee timeee withhh youuu Raonnn. Don'ttt worryyy, we will droppp youuu with Zagan at Pitstoppp Plazaaa once we doneee, are youuu okkk with ittt?" Sir Paimon smiled kindly at Miss Raon as he asked her, and she smiled back in understanding.

"Of course! Please don't mind me and work hard. I also planned to ask for Zagan's help with my training today. Also," Miss Raon is now looking back at him, her face slightly red, "I will likely need, um, Minhyeok's 'thing' again. Ppyong, can you take the second portion of Vesuvius Tiramisu for him? He would like it."

A mix of eagerness and pride filled his heart. It wasn't just any task. It was a gesture of trust from someone he deeply respected. Despite doing so many times before, the simple thought of being chosen for such an errand brought a sense of validation, but also a touch of excitement to meet with his best friend!... and be rewarded with Fererere from the black-haired human.

"You can count on me aye!" With a proud grin and his chest puffed up, Ppyong determined to fulfill Raon's request with care and diligence. Also, Fererere is waiting for him!

Once they finished and dropped Miss Raon with Sir Zagan for their training, they parted ways and Ppyong made his way to the Teleportation Tower, or Nether Nexus Spire for fancy sake.

It didn't take long for Ppyong to see the towering building from miles away. The tower constructed from obsidian marble and adorned with intricate carvings of arcane symbols serves as the central hub for interdimensional travel within Gehenna. The tower is imposing and grand, with soaring spires reaching toward the sky of Hell. The exterior is adorned with flickering magic flaming bright chandeliers that dance along the edges of the tower, casting an eerie glow that illuminates the surrounding landscape.

Being a regular visitor, it doesn't take long for Ppyong to get past the inspection from the entrance and get in. At the heart of the tower lies a vast chamber filled with pulsating crystals of various hues, each one representing a different destination within Gehenna and beyond. These crystals serve as conduits for the teleportation magic that powers the gates, allowing travelers to journey to distant realms without getting themselves stuck somewhere in the void or getting wrecked from the torrent between spaces.

"Sir Ppyong! Good day to you!" a bright voice from the small goat-like devil rang over the hall before he saw the figure of Cock flying down from the third floor to greet him.

"To you too aye! Can you create a portal for me to Earth? I need to deliver something at Miss Raon's request aye," he said as they made their way to the vast ritual circle surface, etched into the polished obsidian marble floor. This circular platform serves as the focal point for the teleportation process, where technicians carefully select the appropriate crystal core to facilitate the journey to the desired destination.

"Oh? Another delivery? Miss Raon must cherish this human if she often sends him this many gifts!" Once the appropriate crystal is selected, Cock placed it in the center of the ritual circle, where it resonates with magical energy. The technician then channel his power, weaving intricate spells and incantations to activate the crystal and create the portal to the desired location.

"He is her best friend after all aye! Also, I should hurry too aye since Miss Raon will need his white liquid soon," he explained as the magic surged through the ritual circle, the air shimmered with otherworldly energy, and a swirling vortex of darkened hues materialized in the center of the circle. This portal serves as a gateway between realms, offering passage to those who seek to traverse the vast expanse of Gehenna and beyond.

"Of course, Sir Ppyong! Just a bit… Here you go! Have a good journey up there Sir!" With the portal open, Ppyong is free to step through and embark on his trip to Earth. Once he passes through, he is enveloped in a whirlwind of magical energy, his surroundings shifting and warping as he is transported to his chosen destination.

The boundaries between space and time blurred as he hurtled through the ethereal void, his body and soul becoming one with the primordial forces that governed the universe. Suddenly, the whirlwind dissipated, and Ppyong found himself facing the familiar sight of his best friend's room.

"Oomphf!"

The noise of his landing surprised the person sitting at the study table beside his bed. He lay there for a moment, gathering his bearings, and enjoyed the softness of the blanket. However, he could hear the faint sound of muffled laughter coming from the human, and when he picked himself up and was about to give Minhyeok a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks by the sight before him.

"Are you... Minhyeok's family Miss...?"

Seated before him is a vision of elegance and beauty, their presence commanding attention with every subtle movement. Cascading down their back like an ethereal waterfall, waves of lustrous black hair frame their delicate features with a natural allure, each strand glistening like strands of jet-black under the gentlest light.

A soft pink jacket, impeccably tailored to accentuate their statuesque frame, draped over the shoulders of their crisp white shirt. A meticulously tied white ribbon hair tie added a touch of sophistication to their ensemble. Beneath the jacket, a pretty pink sailor-style collar adorned with a dainty bow hinted subtly at femininity. Completing their attire was a soft beige-colored jean mini skirt, its hemline fluttering just above their knees, creating an image of effortless delicate playfulness.

Subtle touches of makeup enhance their natural beauty, accentuating doe-like black eyes framed by fluttering lashes that cast soft shadows against their flawless complexion and faintly blushing cheeks. Their lips, painted with a delicate hue of rosy pink, curve into a pleasant and serene smile, radiating warmth and charm.

Completing the ensemble are sleek white thigh-high boots, their glossy finish contrasting elegantly against the soft fabric of their alluring black socking. Warm clothing for the current cold weather on Earth.

A familiar snort of a man from the breathtaking beauty before him gave him a shock all over his red body. The man then averted his enchanting eyes from Ppyong, engrossed in his reflection in the mirror. The soft glow of the vanity lights illuminates his delicate features as he continues to meticulously apply his makeup with his slender hand.

The array of skincare and makeup products is meticulously arranged on the elegant desk before the man shows his progress. The room is filled with the light sweet scent of perfumes and creams, adding to the air of luxury and sophistication that surrounds his every movement. The soft rustle of brushes and the gentle click of compacts punctuated the air as the masculine voice rang out from the looker's fetching lips.

"How terrible, you couldn't even recognize your bestie?

"Hah?"

"Well, I wouldn't blame you. It's not every day people see this side of me. What do you think? You gave an eyeful earlier"

Ppyong's jaw practically hit the floor as he struggled to process the sight before him. His two black eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the breathtaking transformation of his best friend.

"What?!- What kind of shapeshifting sorcery is this?! Who are you and what have you done to Minhyeok aye?!"

He blinked rapidly as if trying to dispel the illusion before him, but Minhyeok remained seated before him, radiating an undeniable aura of grace and captivation. Gone was the familiar image of his friend in the casual and relaxed attire of a university student, replaced instead by this mesmerizing embodiment of a tall young attractive woman.

"I'm still me. This is just a practice for my friend's club drama performance. The leading lady's best friend role becomes empty because the girl has personal health issues and no one has time to take on another role. So I got the recommendation and the part"

Minhyeok explained as he gave his hair a fix-up and a once-over in the mirror. Minhyeok ran his fingers through his hair, flicking his wrist to fix a stubborn section that refused to sit properly. He peered at his reflection in the mirror, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration.

His fingers danced over his locks, deftly styling them into place. Each movement was precise and deliberate, like an artist working on a masterpiece. His face, usually relaxed and carefree, now held a touch of vanity as he admired his handiwork. The corners of his lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he gave his reflection one final once-over, the image of a spoiled young lady of a wealthy family getting ready for a night out reflected back at him.

"It's silly that they don't change the gender of the role and make me go around campus like this during the festival," he sighed, continuing, "but I do owe the club leader for that one time he helped me out." Ppyong didn't know what to think or feel now that he saw Minhyeok giving a cute little pout to himself.

"It's also best that I look like my own imaginary mute sister. A half-hearted effort would not help in the slightest"

At that moment, Ppyong couldn't help but marvel at the accuracy of Raon's suggestion to defend her friend, especially with how at ease Minhyeok was right now. They really knew each other like the back of their hands.

Yet Ppyong's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from disbelief to admiration. He couldn't help but admire the confidence with which Minhyeok carried himself, not bothered a bit by the girlish clothing he was wearing right now. It was beautiful and, for Ppyong, incredibly attractive.

Until he remembers what he's here for.

"Ah! That's right! The tiramisu, aye!" Opening the pocket of his stomach, Ppyong pulled out a box of Vesuvius Tiramisu that was bigger than himself and put it on the desk, sitting on it in front of Minhyeok, looking up and delighted as he got the attention from the gorgeous man above him. Though Minhyeok seemed to already guess who gave it to him.

"Miss Raon went out to have a snack with me and Sir Leraye and Sir Paimon today, aye! She bought a second portion for you and had me deliver it here!"

A radiant smile of pure joy illuminated his best friend's face, his captivating eyes brimming with tenderness and adoration. It was as if he were a devoted spouse receiving a long-awaited gift from his husband who is away from war, his cheeks flushing with a bashful delight as he attempted to conceal his beaming grin behind a delicate, carefully manicured hand.

Ppyong had to pat himself on the back as he marveled at the sight before him. His body shivered from a wave of longing washing over his entire being. Were there any other, lesser devils present to witness this scene, they would surely have shamelessly propositioned Minhyeok or openly leered at him. Perhaps the weakest of all would have boldly pounced on the ravishing man without a second thought.

"That girl, hehe, she should just worry for herself, risking her life down there but still has time for this? That dork, really..."

Ppyong could feel the love from Minhyeok's words as he opened the box and took a look inside, his smile pleased before closing the lids. Ppyong felt a surge of satisfaction knowing that he had managed to deliver Raon's thoughtful gesture to his friend.

"Thanks for having it delivered here, really, I appreciate it. It lets me know she's still well."

As Minhyeok expressed his gratitude, Ppyong's chest swelled with pride, his heart brimming with a new sense of joy knowing that he had brought a nice smile to Minhyeok's face.

"Hmph! Of course, this much is nothing for a great devil like this Ppyong, aye!" Despite his prideful words, he couldn't contain the childish giddiness swirling inside him at having the attention of this striking man, who often kept an invisible distance between them.

With a soft chuckle, Minhyeok put his face on his hand as he leaned on the desk. Ppyong couldn't help but take in the scent of light jasmine with a hint of soap and cotton underneath, and the proximity was making him tremble slightly.

"Sure, sure, you most likely came here for 'that'. I need to finish putting on the choker and earrings to take pictures in this. It will be quick, so just give me Raon's laundry and wait for me outside the bathroom."

"Can I help—?" His question was cut short before he could finish. "No," now the beautiful man coolly looked down at him and leaned back to open the drawer from his desk, taking out a black choker and silver heart-shaped earrings.

"Just be patient, or else I won't give you Fererere," the warning effectively shoved the protest back into Ppyong's mouth, and Minhyeok began to fiddle with the choker, trying to tie it around his pale neck.

"... Do you need help, aye?"

Minutes already ticked by as Minhyeok struggled in vain, on the verge of giving up in frustration. Suddenly, Ppyong's tiny crimson body darted over to Minhyeok's back. With an echoing pop, black smoke billowed from the point of contact, transforming into his high-ranking devil appearance. Surprising Minhyeok as his friend turned to look up at him.

"Just turn around, will you, aye? Come on, give that to me, aye."

Minhyeok reluctantly handed him the choker and Ppyong's hands deftly retrieved it from Minhyeok's grasp, his movements smooth and practiced. With a delicate touch, he began to gently secure the choker around his friend's elegant and seductive pale neck.

'Damn'

The choker rested against Minhyeok's skin, a dazzling accessory that added to his friend's already irresistible demeanor.

"See? You should just let me help, aye", before Minhyeok could argue, he quickly grabbed the earrings and stilled his friend's shoulder with his left hand. He let his gaze linger on the mirror before them, greedily taking in Minhyeok's flustered face as Ppyong towered over him.

As Ppyong delicately placed the shimmering earrings on Minhyeok's ears, a soft glow enveloped the room, accentuating the tension of the moment. Standing behind him, he caught a glimpse of his friend's reflection in the mirror, his features illuminated by the warm light. Minhyeok's black eyes met his crimson ones through the mirror, revealing a slight flush of pink spreading across his cheeks as he bit down on his lower lip in a gesture of bashful charm, unaware of the captivating allure he exuded at that moment.

'Fuck, he's lucky that it's me here and not other devils'

With a heavy gulp, Ppyong's muscles tensed as a wave of heat surged through his body, originating from the attractive man in front of him. Despite the tempting pull of desire, he resisted the urge and swiftly reverted to his usual Red Lump form once he was done, dispelling the charged atmosphere with the resounding volume of his voice.

"Ok! Here! Be done quickly and give me your white liquid and Fererere, aye!" he said quickly as he pulled out a bag of Miss Raon's laundry and threw it at Minhyeok's lap.

It broke Minhyeok from his daze, and he scowled beautifully at Ppyong before he gave an exasperated sigh and stood up from his seat. Ppyong expected everyone to understand his internal disappointment from not having the attention of the enticing man anymore. It didn't matter if it made him feel like those stuck-up devils from Hades.

"Fine, and wait for me to make some food for you to bring back"

"Sure! Hurry up then, aye!"

Minhyeok gave him a suspicious glance over his shoulder before retreating into his bathroom, the heels from his white boots clicking against the floor sensually, leaving Ppyong there on his bed. Once Minhyeok was out of sight, the red devil lay down tiredly as he dazedly looked up at the ceiling. The image of the vulnerable back of the pretty man lingered in his mind, wrecking him with arousal mixed with a good dose of guilt.

"...Crap, Miss Raon will not forgive me if she knows of this"

She would probably, very likely even without magic, squeeze him in her hands until he popped like confetti for even thinking of her friend like that.

#whb #whb worldbuilding #whb mc #whb leraye #whb paimon #whb ppyong #whb minhyeok #if you can't tell that i have a thing for pretty men that confidently wear feminine clothing and makeup #i thought paimon was a woman when i first heard his voice and i never fold like a wet paper faster #i still dead under his feet even after i know he is a he #i also just like to think of minhyeok would not mind wearing a dress or makeup if mc is into it

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