#sanitary parts
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i feel like the major solas memory reveals specifically regarding titans and the blight should have been done with a little more oomph
#like the squad getting together to gossip about it after IS funny but#imagine if they had been part of a big climactic quest and we could see companion reactions in the moment?#i feel like it would pack a bigger emotional punch#like honestly drop the murals themselves as catalysts and leave them as just environmental storytelling after the fact#i understand it would be a lot of lore to have at once and maybe it would be tricky to write in as part of a main quest but#idk i feel like murals/voiceovers/gossip sesh basically explaining everything that was implied is sorta. i dunno. lame??#and everyone is just so. i dunno. sanitary while talking about it all??#i’d love a dolly zoom moment instead u know??#i’d love to see some heat of the moment messiness due to stress of battle AND a reveal. and then companion tensions after. ugh.#anyways.txt#da4 spoilers
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today im thinking about malaria in ancient rome.
about the fact that P. falciparum (the most dangerous kind of malaria) was likely endemic at least from the 2nd century BC onward that Galen said semitertian fevers (P. falciparum infections) were more common in Rome than anywhere else in the Roman Empire that the most severe manifestations of P. falciparum (quotidian fevers + cerebral malaria) were most common in babies and young children, an epidemiological observation that indicates the transmission rate of P. falciparum was extremely high in Rome that Quintus Serenus said there was no Latin word for semitertian fevers (they used a transliteration of the Greek, 'hemitritaeos') because "no one, i think, could have named it in our language and mothers would not have wanted to"
#working on my thesis gonna bring down the mood of the whole department#but i feel like i have to honor them#and the thing about malaria that fucks me up is P. falciparum has been around for tens of thousands of years#its not a disease of agriculture like smallpox or of sanitary issues that come with civilization like typhoid#it predates agriculture its been found in the bodies of mummies from ancient egypt and skeletons from ancient greece and rome#there are species-specific plasmodium parasites for gorrillas chimpanzees and humans#which to me indicates there was a plasmodium parasite for every now lost hominid#malaria is the strongest recent evolutionary pressure on the human genome#upwards of 30% of people in some parts of the world are heterozygous for sickle cell anemia#or heterozygous for SE asian ovalocytosis#thus it was more evolutionarily advantageous for 2-3% of all children to die#so about 30% of people could be protected from severe malaria#these mutations take a long time to evolve. parasites take a long time to evolve#there are people who mourned their infants tens of thousands of years ago in languages we will never know with rituals we will never see#and i cant do anything about any of that but i can keep going to the lab every day and trying my best to figure it out#because so many generations of humans stretching back to before we were human could not
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please never send me an ask on any of my accounts telling me i'm "one of the good ones". whether you're talking about trans people, or even me being a furry. i will not throw any community i am a part of under the bus to grovel to you.
#.txt#i am not even the type of person who can put up with most communities. so if i am a part of one theres a good reason for it. i am selective#i havent gotten one of this type of ask yet but ive been seeing this happen to people i follow pretty often recently.#never let anyone tell you 'thank you for being sanitary enough for me'#the subtext is 'because otherwise i would think you were nasty and look down on you like i do for the rest of the people in your community'
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you know, I feel like, as little money as I have, I still haven’t put into perspective how much I have that could still be of use. I’m not so poor that I can’t make a difference. I can still buy a meal if I go out. I can buy a trinket. I’m not so poor or struggling with life that I don’t have food in my stomach and a place to sleep. Donating like I have this week has me wanting to do something that I hope many others are already doing. For every cent I would have spent for myself, on groceries, deliveries, gifts, etcetera (beyond the strikes where I am not spending money on anything but Palestinian causes) I will donate equal or greater that amount to Palestine. Because if I have money for me, I should have money for others. This is not me setting myself on fire to keep others warm, I know I would be of no use long term if I destroyed myself by going entirely broke with no way to survive myself. This is considering things beyond medical bills and life expenses that I need to keep going. When I count groceries, it’s things like when I use Instacart bc I can’t go out, because even though I don’t have a means of transportation, delivery is a luxury and if I can afford to pay for that, I can afford to donate. If I buy something non-essential like some snacks or the like, I have to match it with a donation. Because if I can afford to buy that, I can afford to donate. And just due to the nature of being a reminder, every time I get my period I’m going to donate to sanitary products for Palestine, because while pads are an essential product, donating even a little bit towards helping others get even the opportunity to get the same access as I do is an important reminder. There’s $5 donations available for those, and that’s about the cost of an average subscription I would be able to afford— it won’t buy a whole kit, but it will still put money towards that goal. I may not be able to do all the good the world needs, but the world needs all the good that I can do. As much as I can spare, I will donate. I only wish I could do more.
#idk it kind of hit me this week when I had to spend some money what I would do to make an impact with my money since I had to spend some#that the policy of matching whatever I spent here with donations to Palestine would be a great way to keep up action#and a reminder with every cent I spend of Palestine#I only pray that someday soon I will gain the freedom to actually do some more physical irl work as well#rn I’m not in a safe place to do so without the risk of losing my freedom to do anything and health#i can’t even call out loud when my parents are in the house because any word I would say would be grounds to take away more of my freedom#like they did when I donated to Black Lives Matter and they physically took me to a public place to scold me#and have monitored my bank account ever since.#I’ve been using PayPal mostly for donations ever since due to that not showing up immediately but#I DID use my direct card to send. sanitary kits. they won’t win that one if they take me out to scold me though lol#anyway these tags aren’t important I’m just equal parts emboldened and frustrated#emboldened by the idea of a way I can make a more direct impact beyond sharing and archiving#and frustrated that even then my options are slim and I have to be cautious#I wish I could risk it all but I would be of no help if I put myself in a position where I was either homeless or unable to act at all#I hope this doesn’t come across self important#it’s just me making a statement that I want to follow#idk this is just me working out the complexities of my situation and what I can do long term#while still actually making an impact directly on the world both right now and sustainably
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I’ve realized that I started making my queerness less palatable to others and it’s so scary but it’s so much more freeing and fun and i love myself so much more
#silv’s back on her bs#and I’m just#god I love being queer and being all sorts of funky things but it’s so#tiring having this realization that I no longer/no longer need to fit into these sanitary categories bc that’s never been what pride or#queerness is about but it’s also so scary because I have so many people in my life now that I have to actively censor parts of myself from#queer#pride#Idk if this makes sense but
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operatori sanitari e tortura nel contesto del genocidio in atto in palestina (un documento di 'sanitari per gaza' dell'agosto 2024)
Mentre Israele tenta di nascondere il volto sempre più impresentabile del sionismo attraverso la mossa di arrestare 9 dei torturatori del centro di Sde Teiman, indicati invece come “eroi” da ministri dello stesso governo israeliano, Sanitari per Gaza presenta un dossier sulla tortura che documenta come le atrocità commesse di recente non sono che l’aspetto più eclatante di una pratica della��
#&039;Ordine dei medici#000000#808080#999999#Adnan al-Bursh#Al Nasser#Al Shifa#amputazioni#apartheid#cecchini#cura intensiva#denuncia#detenzione amministrativa#detenzione di medici#documento#ffffff#fosse comuni#Gaza#genocidio#genocidio a danno dei Palestinesi#genocidio da parte di israele#Il ruolo della tortura nell’attuale genocidio a Gaza da parte di Israele#Israele#Iyad Al-Rantisi#Medicina Democratica#medicinali negati#neonati#occupazione israeliana#operatori sanitari#Palestina
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Reblog if answer tysm🩷
How are you doing? Reminder to take any meds and hydrate (if you'd like). We're doing good work in this community, and I'm proud of us all. Let's get into it:
A TEENAGER TAKING CARE OF HIS 4-YEAR-OLD SISTER IN GAZA NEEDS OUR HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A TEENAGER IS WAY TOO YOUNG TO TAKE CARE OF A 4-YEAR-OLD, ESPECIALLY IN GAZA.
THEY ARE GETTING BOMBED AND NEED FOOD, SANITARY SUPPLIES, ETC AND THEY NEED TO GET OUT.
I hope you read the part about the baby chicks, and the emotional toll of evacuation.
Please help this kind, caring teen @sham-amany and his very young sister. They need our community to step in. We can do this together.
@selkiebrides @streakoflavender @keepinitwrd @bloodandgutsyippee @wherethatoldtraingoes2 @ibtisams @butchniqabi @appsa @frigidwife @vetted-gaza-funds @gazagfmboost @opencommunion @heliopixels @neechees @beserkerjewel @brutaliakhoa @deepspaceboytoy @kibumkim @rhubarbspring @lesbiansagainsttheatre @malcriada @turian @applejupiter @sxpph0 @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @neptunerings @dykesbat @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @brokenbackmountain @minosbull @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @buttercuparry @captainsaltymuyfancy @timetravellingkitty @socalgal @xinakwans @kahin
Forgot to add vetting here, they are #8.
NO DONATIONS FOR 24 HOURS!!!!!
They can't live off of this
#free gaza#free palestine#gaza genocide#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#gaza#gaza solidarity#the gaza strip#mutual aid#children of gaza
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my skin be like im going to do something gory and unpleasant and not wait for an answer
#my thighs and idk what its called but front hip area#are covered in slightly itchy polka dots#and im like broooooooo come on#but ik its not a big deal bc its probably just part of the Sensitive Skin Experience#but i keep forgetting about it#bc i only see them when im in the bathroom. but i also dont want to apply any cortisone bc its not sanitary#and then i finish my business wash my hands and its wiped from my memory. rinse and repeat#that being said i did remember this time#but i applied too much and now my thighs are slightly slimy#like gerard way...#- shadow#- neo
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and they were roommates
pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !
part 2, part 3, part 4
"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.
When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.
To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.
So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?
He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.
"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“
He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.
After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"
You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."
You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.
When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.
When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.
Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.
With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.
So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.
"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."
Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.
You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"
You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.
"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.
Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.
"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.
"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.
"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.
Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.
Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.
#Spencer reid#Spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x you#criminal minds
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LIQUID SWEETENER
jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.
PAIRING jake x f!reader
CONTENT smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care
WORD COUNT 3.8k
a.n happiest birthday to my love !!!! nia era where she doesn't let everything she writes rot in her google docs bc she's not happy enough with it??? gasp. maybe. thank you to my lovely @ak4e7a for being so patient with me and reading what i write before anyone else so i don't look stupid i love you mama
WARNINGS fingering, spit, biting, implied oral f!rec, cum eating
Jake’s pout got somehow more pronounced than what it already was when you, once again, refused to just take your medicine. He’d been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you just hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin. He even made sure to pick out a syrup that wouldn’t taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he could picture it right then in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again.
For how much you hated being sick, you seemed to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.
“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighed, resting the cap filled to the brim with sticky honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge.
“Not even that sick,” you huffed back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep.
“Yeah?” Jake looked at you with an arched brow, before pointing his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding ground for bioterrorism allegations.”
He stopped you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispered against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.
“Just wan’ you.”
“But you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?” he snickered, plump lips thinning into that gorgeous wide smile of his.
He knew damn well what you meant, a frustrated grumble spilling out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wanted you to say it out loud. The quiet part.
“Want…more,” you cranked one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slipped in it. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observed you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.
If Jake had to be completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly sad at you being a little sick.
Sure, it sounded mean to say out loud. But you were not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoyed doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to just take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl had a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work.
You were always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoyed knowing he was helping make it at least a little better for once.
You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he was making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprayed on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.
Jake took notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it. Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licked away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick didn’t help, being physically weak and needing rest didn’t stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you had nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupted your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You looked up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he was about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”
Really not being dramatic, but you thought you felt a boulder crush you right on your chest. You groaned, turning to the other side so you could sulk properly without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you would love to ride as soon as possible.
“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice was muffled by the pillow you were squishing your face against.
“What are you even doing.”
“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me,” you explained, grabbing the sides of the pillow and pushing them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles.
“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he barely whispered, the loving tone making your body feel light.
You suddenly pushed yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement, “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”
He looked at you for a moment, really looked at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too missed your touch, far more than what he was letting on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—had turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions, finding himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom.
As if sensing his resolve wavering, you added, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”
“A reward… for what?” Jake was thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever got like this, and he was enjoying every second of it, maybe even pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. But he didn’t care, not when he didn’t know when the next time he’d get to this would be.
“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”
“You still have a fever though,” he deadpanned. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”
“That.” you glared at him with all the fake anger you could muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”
“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”
“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words died in your throat as you felt the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee. You looked up to him as he slowly got inside the covers, right next to you. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.
“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispered against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he snuck an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his side. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”
You reached for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guided it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you ground your pussy against it.
You took notice of how his breath hitched in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you used his hand, the illusion wearing off even more when he tried to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You knew he wanted it just as bad as you did, you were just willing to beg for it as long as it got you what you wanted. “I’ll—” you audibly gasped when he flexed his fingers just that tiny little bit you needed to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”
“Anything?” he teased you, voice light and airy as he moved the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickled your neck, Jake’s mouth having dipped down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.
“Anything, just… please,” you whined, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.
If you hadn't been so deprived of Jake’s touch up until then, you would have found the way you were grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you were desperate, so you couldn't bring yourself to care about how pathetic you probably looked.
Jake though, oh he enjoyed it thoroughly. His cock was stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you were through your shorts. Dripping already and he had barely touched you. You were just so fucking hot.
“You’ll take your medicine then?” He moved his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak one clawing at his arm in an attempt to get the little taste of pleasure he was giving you back. He kissed his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”
“Take my medicine,” you whimpered, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little cheeky shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.
“Theeeere we go,” Jake sang in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”
You nodded, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound would make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh came up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smoothed over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.
“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbled, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your neck. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole onto your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.
His free hand finally slid under your shorts, a gasp leaving you because of how cold he felt. Jake was always warmer than you, but your fever made it so his touch felt icy against your skin. Your back arched slightly when one of his digits parted your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.
“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggled into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly dragged them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”
Usually you would’ve groaned at his stupid little jokes and pushed his face away. But this time, blame his voice being deeper and hoarser than normal or blame your fever, it got you clenching around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he took his sweet time playing with you.
Your head dug deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.
“So needy…” he breathed into your neck, going back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.
A yelp left your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you had closed shooting open when Jake bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smoothed over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, pleasure overriding anything else.
Jake finally prodded two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction was instantaneous, pussy hole fluttering against his fingertips right away, he just had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”
Jake was so fucking turned on, he could barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind was get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He felt like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life was just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seemed different to him, almost animalistic, the way you rutted your hips against his hand as soon as he started scissoring his fingers inside you, the way you weren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this was just from his fingers.
You yourself weren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you helped Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you felt from the fever. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right spots you knew you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles dragged against your walls so deliciously.
“S-so good,” you gasped when he turned his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knew had you coming undone in just a few strokes.
The room was filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You could feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashed on you, heavy and almost painful. You clawed at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake was not facing you anymore.
He looked over his shoulder to the comforter, the cap filled with syrup still there amidst the mess. He twisted his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he was fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spilled onto his shirt as he took a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tried his best to hold it in his mouth. You were still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty so much so you didn't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.
“J-jake, I’m so close.”
Perfect timing.
Jake grabbed your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure he always did to signal it was time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he knew you to be. And you did just that; immediately following his movements like he had trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure. He bent down slightly to aim better. But this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expected, he let small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.
You uselessly tried to back away from him, but he held you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor did he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand held your jaw open, grasp getting firmer everytime you tried to break free of it. After all, you made a promise, and he was going to make sure you fulfilled it.
“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouthed against your lips once he had made sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”
He smashed his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss as a silencing of any complaint you were about to spit it at him. Those turned to even more whines when he finally brought his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucked you to your orgasm. It was almost instantaneous, but you just couldn't have helped it even if you tried; you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit
“That’s it baby, so good for me yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slowed down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too was relishing in how your cunt pulsed against his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh he wished it were his cock being constricted like that instead. But that could wait.
You finally felt like you could breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you could, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.
The sheets were drenched around you, and you couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you could immediately tell you weren't the only one who had made a mess. Your gaze wandered to Jake’s pants, a very evident stain on his crotch catching your attention. And fuck, if you weren't ready to do it all over again.
Jake looked absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste truly.
You snuck your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake let out when you wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.
Jake watched you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you licked your fingers clean. He slid his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up as much as you just did to him. His heart raced in his chest as you kept looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.
“That was so…” you spoke up, giggling when Jake interrupted you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.
“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”
“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”
Jake curled an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He placed a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”
“Well I still hav–”
“And won’t.” he deadpanned, sensing where you were trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”
You smiled to yourself, feeling featherlight kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He placed a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grabbed a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rested his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.
“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you said, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzled his head further against your skin.
“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He placed another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you took too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”
“Jake. I’m being serious.”
“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughed at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”
“You are downright insufferable.”
“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”
The rest of the sentence was muffled against your mound as you pushed his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.
“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggled as you laid back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue made contact with your cunt.
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy
Part 4: “Girl Problems”
You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.
With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.
“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.
As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.
Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?
The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.
“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.
You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.
Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.
John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?
With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.
>> ok so this is terrible
>> im so sorry
>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom
>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional
Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.
J >> How can I help?
>> i dont have any products on me
>> meant to stock the bathroom
>> sorry
J >> Stop apologizing
J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street
You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.
It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”
You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“
“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”
You snort. “Yeah…”
“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”
“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.
You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.
You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“
“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.
You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”
“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”
John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”
When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.
You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.
If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.
A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.
#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#141 x reader#task force 141#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x reader#captain john price#captain price#john price x reader#john price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#cod#call of duty#fem reader#plus size reader#fat reader
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Yandere Stalker x you
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, fem reader, stealing, he’s weird as fuck, male masturbation, he’s infatuated with you.
*This fic is influenced by You—a great tv show btw. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. I really thought of the weirdest and freakiest shit he could do… Here is part two! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker goes to extreme lengths to feel close to you. Nothing really phases him, and that includes your period blood.
What’s more dangerous than a man madly in love?
He stalked you to a coffee shop. He sat a couple tables away from you, and he ordered a random drink. He never really cared for the overpriced concoctions these baristas made, and he really was here for you. He watched your white straw turn into a different color when you sip on your drink, and he sighed happily as he thought you looked hot with your lips puckered.
Sure enough, every sip was like a punch to your bladder. You got up from your seat and you walked to the restroom.
Was this disgusting? He asked himself as his cheek hit the cold tile floor. He was currently hiding in the women’s bathroom, spying on you as you did your business. And to his elation, you were on your period. He watched as you pulled down your pants, and you sat down onto the toilet, his eyes honing in on the pad that lays on your panties. As you changed your sanitary pad and wrapped up the old one, you pulled your pants back up and walked out of the stall. His eyes following the sight of your shoes and you stopped at the trash can, he hears a faint noise, and then the sound of the water turning on.
When you finally left, he walked out of the stall he was hiding in, and he approached the trash can. He gently pushed the opening, and his arm traveled down inside to look for the pad you threw away. He prayed that all of the wet substances that he was feeling was just soggy paper towels.
He then feels a plastic film, and it was sort of short but thick in width, and he grabbed onto it. He pulled it out and he inspected the orange colored wrapper. He was curious since he didn’t have a uterus, and also didn’t know what it was like to have a period, and he then sniffed it.
It definitely smelled odd… It sort of tingled his senses, the aroma of metallic blood and the natural scent of your body was…. sort of triggering a deep rooted instinct inside him. But that didn’t stop him from stashing it away into his pocket. He quickly put his hood up and he walked out of the restroom.
He had to jog a bit to catch up with you, he saw you sharply turn the corner, and he almost panicked when he couldn’t see you anymore. The last time this had happened, a crowd swarmed him and he hasn’t seen you in months. For five hellish months he had to try to find you again. It certainly wasn’t easy to find someone that didn’t document every single moment of their life on the internet.
A year prior before he started to stalk you in person, he wanted to stalk you online. He was pretty sure everyone stalks their crush on their socials, he remembers seeing your name on the coffee cup you were holding, and he scrolled through endless usernames. He squinted his eyes and he tried to look at the tiny profile pictures.
None of them looked like you.
He couldn’t find your perfect face anywhere! He slammed his fists onto his desk, and his mind was racked with potential username ideas. Maybe you liked flowers? He started to name every single flower he knows, and he typed that with your name. He frowned when the page ended up empty, zero profiles showing up.
He soon found out you had zero social media presence.
He shoves his way through, bumping into seemingly everyone’s shoulder, and after handing out half hearted apologies…he finally saw you enter a store.
He looked up at the sign: “Rated: Adventurous,” it said. There was apparently a huge sale going on… whips and leashes half off… wait what?
He didn’t peg you to be the kinky type, but to be fair he didn’t know much about you. You keep your cards close and have a small knit of friends. He walked into a different aisle from you, trying to look normal by grabbing a random adult toy as he glanced at you. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as you held a ten inch dildo in your hands, jesus. He looked down at his own crotch, his cheeks burning red and he cleared his throat. He put away the leather mask in his hand, and he inched a bit closer to you when you walk to the cashier. He notes that you mostly pay in cash, rarely using your card, and he noticed how you barely look around your surroundings. You didn’t even look his way—even when he was standing right in front of you, you just brushed past him and walked out of the store.
Huh.
He stands a couple of feet behind you as you hailed a cab, he makes sure to take a good look at the driver, and he saw you get in and buckle up. It’s not safe in the city, and even cab drivers had partaken in dangerous and criminal activities. Just last week a driver kidnapped a couple and fled out of the state. If you were to disappear—he knows exactly who to blame.
He quickly ran to his car and he followed after you. Running a couple of red lights doesn’t hurt anybody— maybe his wallet— but it’s worth it if it means protecting you.
He felt like he could finally relax as you made it home safely. He is now sitting in his parked car, idly fiddling with his fingers as you walked up to your front door.
He hoped that when you were pleasuring yourself you were imagining a man like him. Because he thinks of you when his pants are down.
Night has fallen and he’s been parked outside of your house for hours. He liked that it was dark out, because when he stares into your lamp lit apartment- all he could see is you and everything else is blocked out. You’ve always been a little tease, and the outfits you wore were always a bit scantily clad. But even now… it was like you were purposefully trying to trigger a response from him. You were just standing there, your arms crossed, and dressed in just a robe.
Just a tiny peek of your ankles and calves sent chills down his body. His hands started to work to unbuckle his belt, his zipper becomes unzipped, and he pulled out his hardened cock.
He wished you would’ve flashed him right there and then. He wanted a glimpse of your tits, just to see if they sag or if they were perky, and to see if your nipples were pink or brown. He would want to hold them in his hands. He wonders if you are shaven down there, or perhaps you liked to grow a bush. He wonders if your blood continued to flow out of you, dripping down your leg for him to lick and lap up. Would you like that? For him to spread your legs and help soothe your cramps?
He wouldn’t mind to have his fingers turn red, to have his hands and mouth stained of your heavenly essence. He wouldn’t mind if you got frustrated that his fingers couldn’t reach the deepest part of you, and that you wanted him to use his dick to impale you. A little blood never hurt. His eyes rolled back, and the muscles in his arms tightening as they furiously worked hard to jerk him off.
“Shit baby, that feels so good…” He groaned, his back arching as he was teeming for his release. His imagination running wild with the thought of you coming to his car to pleasure him. “I’m close I’m close I’m close—“
He used his other hand to reach into his pocket and he fished out the used pad, his teeth ripping the plastic, and his nose digs into the cotton. He let out a loud moan, your scent bringing him comfort, and his cock twitched as he came all over. His cum dribbling down his shaft, and dripping onto his hand. He sighed, and he cleaned himself up. He kept a box of tissues in the glove box, he wiped himself down and he looked in the mirror. There was a bit of your blood on his nose and chin, his tongue swiping at the area and he savored the taste.
The orgasm was so good that it lulled him to sleep, his soft cock still in his palm, and he snored away.
#Allurilove yandere writing#tw stalking#cw blood#yandere x female reader#yandere x you#yandere x fem reader#yandere x y/n#male yandere x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc#smut writing#obsessive love#yandere fic#yandere stalking#yandere male#yandere smut#he’s gross#smutty smut smut#yandere writing#he wants you so bad
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Diamond Heart
Part 2
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: You finally decide to utilise your gym membership. Personal trainer!Jungkook
Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst
Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Heavy smut scene at the end.
________
This is the second time I've uploaded this story. The first time, I received some pretty mean comments and messages. SOOOOOO I have to say, if you don't like. my writing, that's fine, just exit my page lol. Do not leave mean comments please.
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New year, new you, right? Your new years resolution was to get your body right, eat healthily, drink less and most importantly; get in the gym. However, it had been months since the new year had begun and you still hadn’t utilised your gym membership. The fee was regularly from your bank account every month and you had yet to step foot into the establishment. You frowned every time you saw the transaction on your bank statement, but you did absolutely nothing about it.
But the influence of social media made you feel like you wanted to try and be a gym girlie. So you took your gym bag to work, placed It under your desk so you didn’t have any excuse not to go. Plus, the gym was quite literally in your work building.
You sigh change into untouched gym clothes that you had bought all the way back at the end of December, preparing for your new year’s resolution. Shame rushes over your body as you tear the tags from the tight fitting clothes and chuck them into the sanitary bin next to the toilet. Huffing and puffing you slide your socked feet into new exercise shoes. Stuffing your work clothes into the bag, you exit the bathroom stall and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look too bad, you looked like someone who was ready to workout. If you looked the part, you could play the part.
Lugging the bag over your shoulder, you head to the gym.
It was pretty empty, you were surprised, as the majority of colleagues held a membership, considering all employees got a ten percent discount as your employers owned the building.
You guess that people don’t usually come straight from work, they most likely go home and come back. But not everyone suffers from severe procrastination like you do.
Heading to the changing rooms, to put your bag away, you pass a very good looking man, you almost trip over as your eyes stick to him. He dressed in a baggy white shirt and shorts, his feet adorned in similar shoes to yours. His hair was cut in a cool way, it was kinda long, considering all the men at work and currently surrounding him, all sported cropped haircuts. His ears and his lips were embellished with piercings, you almost walked into a wall when you saw him playing with his lip piercings, the tip of his tongue, just grazing the shiny metal. Your gaze fleetingly drops to his arm, his tattooed arm. How was a man like this working here? He should be on the cover of vogue or something.
Tearing your eyes away from him, you manage to make it into the changing room, unscathed. You quickly lock away your bag and head back out onto the main floor, phone and AirPods in hand, ready to tackle the gym. And then it hits you a ton of bricks. You have no idea what you’re doing. You didn’t know where to start, what equipment does what, what part of your body to focus on.
You look around at people lifting weights, running on the treadmills, using the equipment like pros.
Your eyes focus in on the 'smoke show' of a man that ‘briefly’ caught your eye earlier. He was now sitting behind the front desk and under a large poster for personal trainers. The poster read ‘In the body gym: PT sessions available; first 2 sessions are free’. And if a sign from the universe, it doesn’t fail to mention how the offer is time limited. You take it as a sign, plus you were most likely going to try the gym twice before never going again. Might as well get free personal training out of it.
With determination, you walk towards the front desk, before stopping in front of that man of a man. And that’s when the words on your tongue freeze.
Jungkook notices a presence looming over him and he puts the finishing touches on the next promotional poster. He looks up and smiles. He noticed you when you first came in, you were a new face, he knew all the regulars who attended the gym and he had never seen you before. He would definitely remember a face like yours. He stands up.
“Hello, how can I help you?” He rests his tattooed hand on the desk and he notice how your eyes grow larger at the sight.
Your words are still finding it hard to get out of your mouth. You probably look like such a weirdo, standing there and staring at him. You manage to lift your finger and gesture to the poster behind him.
He smiles and his smile is the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.
“You want to book a PT session?”
You nod and swallow the lump that had been lodged in your throat since you walked up to the desk.
“Sorry, yes, I’d like to book five.” You fumble to pull out your credit card from the back of your phone.
“I can just add the fee to your account. You don’t need to pay directly. The fee won’t be noticeable until the third session, on the account of our offer.” He leans forward to adjust your account.
You can see down his shirt from the angle. And by the sight you can tell that he works in a gym. Hell, he might even live in it.
He clicks a few times and quickly straightens back up, you swiftly divert your gaze.
“You are free to start your first session today.” He comes out from behind the desk and he towers over you, your knees buckle. Maybe that’s something you need to work on. Do your knees have muscles? Can you make them stronger?
“Okay, should I wait here for the trainer?” You ask.
He goes behind the desk, ducks down and then comes back out.
He extends his hand and you stare at him in confusion.
He retracts his hand, and rubs the back of his neck.
“I don’t know why I did that…” He awkwardly chuckles, shaking his head.
It can’t be. There’s no way that he’s your P-
“I’m your trainer. I hope that’s okay, the other guys are fully booked and I had a cancellation today, so I thought it’d be a cute joke…” He trails off, taking note of the smile growing across your face.
You feel kinda at ease seeing him get a little awkward attempting to joke with you. He looked like he should be the cockiest motherfucker ever, but second by second he was proving that he was the complete opposite of that. It was endearing but there was no way he could be your personal trainer, not like you had a shot with him anyway, he probably had a really fit and hot girlfriend. You digress, you didn’t want him to see you all sweaty, breathing hard and struggling to complete simple moves.
He looks at you, his eyes doubling in size. He can tell you’re slightly uncomfortable, he could almost visualise the Neurons firing off in your head. He was attracted to you, that’s for sure, he wasn’t trying to come off as creepy. Maybe he did, and now you don’t want to train with him, maybe you’ll cancel your membership too.
He rapidly looks around the gym, hoping to catch the eye of one of his colleagues, so he could offer to trade clients. He catches Namjoon’s eye, but before he could call him over, you speak;
“It was funny, I’m just a bit scared.”
His gaze meets your eyes again. He internally feels a huge rush of relief. Thank goodness he didn’t scare you away.
“Oh good.” He tucks his hair behind his ear.
Cute. You think.
“Why are you scared?” He quickly follows up.
Shifting your weight between your feet, you answer, your voice barely audible over the EDM base leaking through the speakers.
“I don’t want to embarrass myself. You’re a professional and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” You play with your earbud case, avoiding eye contact.
You wouldn’t be his first client who had that same fear, it was completely natural to be scared of embarrassing yourself. He felt the same way when he started boxing, the first session was nerve-racking, scared of getting anything wrong. But all you need is a good and supportive trainer. And if says so himself, that’s what he thinks he is.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. We’ll start slow, okay?” He offers a warm smile and places his large hand on your shoulder.
You almost fall from the feeling of his hand on your bare shoulder. Yes, you were acting like a teenage girl who had never interacted with a man before. But look at him. You were a grown ass woman who had never interacted with a man that looked like him before.
He leads you over to a room separate from the rest of the gym, closed off with glass doors, allowing you to see the whole place. Inside the room were a few exercise balls, foam roller and weights. The floor was soft and covered in mats.
He takes you over to the furthest mat in the room.
“Just me and you here, so don’t be nervous. This section is pretty discreet.” He reassures you.
You smile and place your phone and earbuds down on the floor next to the two mats you were currently occupying.
“We are going to start with stretching, so please sit down. I might have to help you with some of the positions. I hope you don’t mind being stretched…” His voice quietens as he realises how it sounds.
His cheeks flush a pretty pink. A hot flash that runs through you, leaves a thin layer of sweat on your hairline.
And so it begins.
The next morning you wake up sore as fuck. All that extra stretching at the end of the session seemed useless now. Your legs feel like lead as you swing them out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As you sit on the toilet, your thighs scream at you, it was almost as if you could feel every fibre of your muscles tear.
Your phone buzzes on the countertop. Finishing your business, you wash your hands and run the shower.
You tap the screen on your phone to see a message from Jungkook. He said it was important to have direct contact with each other, just incase he wanted to recommend some gym wear or if you had any questions.
Jungkook (Gym): ’Hope yesterday didn’t tire you out too much. You did great 👏 ‘
Another comes in as you finish reading.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘I hope to see you at the gym (or outside) soon! Make sure to book another session! 😊’
You quickly pick up your phone, steam fills the room as the water continues to gush from the pipes.
It vibrates in your hand.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Sorry if that was unwarranted.’
It vibrates again. You didn’t want to risk opening the messages just incase you were unsure of what to say. You really didn’t want to leave him on read unintentionally.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Please ignore the last two messages 😣 .’
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Lets pretend that didn’t happen. Sorry for the spam 😔
You click on the notification and unlock your phone.
You: Its okay 😆 My body feels like its on fire every time I move, is that normal?
You fire off the text.
Jungkook (Gym): ‘Yes 😂 completely normal. You should buy a foam roller to massage your muscles~ But more stretching should help in the mean time. Here is a video to follow (its me btw 😳)’
He sends a link to a Youtube video. You’re intrigued. The gym seemingly had a YouTube channel. The link loads and then you see Jungkook on your screen. Holding the phone in one hand, you quickly turn off the shower and head to your bedroom. Careful not to walking into any walls, you sit on your bed.
He greets the audience cheerfully, informing them that this was a tutorial for stretching to relieve muscle ache. He is wearing the gym’s merch, not like when you saw him the day before, it wasn’t a baggy t-shirt, no. This time it was a form fitting sleeveless, lycra shirt, with the gym’s logo nestled between his sculpted pecs. His vibrant tattoos more on show than they were in person. His legs were wrapped in shorts, that fell just above his knees.
He encourages the viewers to get an exercise mat or find a soft surface. You follow his instruction. A loud groan escapes your lips as you struggle to sit down.
He sports the brightest smile as he guides the (most likely thirsty) watchers through the exercises.
You strain your muscles as you attempt to toe touch. And then he says something that brings you back to the previous day, during your session.
“You might need a partner to stretch you, if you can’t get far enough. It’ll feel really good.”
You were being advised on how to stretch and then when it came to this specific stretch. You were laying on your back, hands clasped around your knee. You knew that you weren’t flexible, but you didn’t know that you were this stiff. You tried your best to pull your leg into your chest, but you couldn’t anything.
“Its not working.” You say, letting your leg drop to the ground with a thud.
Jungkook chuckles and looks down at you, arms crossed, his biceps bulging. The strength it took to not stare was more than what you used to lift the weights.
“I think you need help.” He kneels down in front of you.
He pauses.
“I can help you, if you want.”
You nod.
He mutters an ‘okay, great’, before asking you to resume the position. He moves forward, putting his body over yours, placing his hands on your calf and pushing your leg up and down.
You almost moan with how good the stretch felt. You try your damn hardest not to concentrate on the man who was currently on top of you. You tried not to take notice of his scent, or the small scar on his cheek, or the mole under his lip.
“Can you feel it now?” He smirks.
He knew you could feel it, he heard the noise you let slip. He tries not to think anything of it, but his mind runs wild. He had to be professional. Plus you hadn’t indicated that you were interested in him in the slightest.
You nod again. He sits back on his heels and lets go of your leg.
You’re pulled out of your reminiscent state by a notification and the sound of the phone vibrating against the floor.
Jungkook (Gym): Did it help? 😢
You quickly reply with no thoughts. Empty headed.
You: Its not the same without you
He was gonna think you were like all those other woman in the gym who thirsted over him. You needed to fix it.
You quickly send another message.
You: *your help ☺️
Jungkook’s heart sank at your correction. Maybe you weren’t interested. You probably in a relationship and the last thing you wanted to deal with was a creepy PT harassing you. He doesn’t reply.
You spend your whole shower thinking about being left on read.
Your closest co-worker, Bethany, sits across from you during in lunch. She notices how you barely make conversation, or keep the conversation. You check your phone every 5 minutes.
“Who are we waiting for?” She asks, her fork digging around in her bowl.
“Huh?”
She chuckles.
“You’re obviously waiting for someone to text. You keep on looking at phone like every two seconds. So, who are we waiting for?”
You didn’t know you were being that obvious.
“Well… My personal trainer is a total twenty out of ten. And he messaged me this morning to give me some stretching tips, and I may have ended our last convo on a creepy note. And now I think that he’s ghosting me because I was a creep. He probably blocked me. I’m probably banned from the gym.” Words rush out of your sauce covered lips. Maybe spaghetti wasn’t the best meal to have in the middle of the day.
Bethany shoves a napkin in your face, which you accept gratefully. She request to see the messages. Embarrassed, you hand your phone over to her.
She remains silent as she scrolls down the screen.
“He has a crush on you.” She finally speaks, her eyes fixed on the screen, her thumb pressing down. She was doing more than looking at the messages.
“You better not be sending another message.” You warn her, hand reaching across the table.
She swiftly moves her chair back, so your phone is out of reach.
“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will. Oh my God, he is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, she turns the screen towards you. And you freeze. It is a picture of a rather muscular man’s bare back, the hair at the nape of his neck was wet with sweat. And the tattooed arm… You knew that arm. It was in your dreams last night.
“W-where did you find that?”
She smiles and her thumb resumes the swiping motion.
“It was in his previous profile pictures.” She leans back in her chair.
“His picture is a brown dog.” You sit back, the image burnt into your eyes.
How were suppose to act now that you’ve seen that? All you can imagine is digging your nails into that back as-
See? You’ve been corrupted. No, you must be ovulating, that why the impure thoughts plague your mind. You’ve seen good looking men before, but you’ve never had such a primal reaction before. You also didn’t know him well enough to like anything besides his looks. His very, very, very good looks.
“He has a ton of pictures. He may be the first guy ever who’s good at taking pictures. Damn, look at this.” She turns the screen towards you once more. This time he was standing in a mirror, hair slicked back and in a black button down.
“I can never go back to the gym. I guess my new years resolution is not going to be fulfilled.” You sigh, leaning forward to put your head in your arms.
Suddenly, Bethany gasps.
“He replied.” She smiles.
Your heart drops to your stomach.
“I can’t look. You read it.” You close your eyes, not wanting to look at her face.
She clicks on the notification. It felt as if seconds were taking hours to pass.
“Aww~”
Your head pops up, eyes shoot open.
“Aww?”
She nods.
“He said ‘I’d be glad to help, I like you.”
You lunge forward and grab the device out of her hand.
It shakes in your hand
Jungkook (Gym): * your company 😜
Your heartbeat quickens and a smile spreads across your face. He was nicely making fun of you, recalling back to your little save earlier.
“If you don’t go for it, I will.” Bethany jokes, her engagement ring, glistening under the lighting of the restaurant.
You sit back in your chair, clutching the phone, thinking of a reply. The phone buzzes again.
Jungkook (Gym): I hope I didn’t ruin my chances of asking you out for dinner after our training sessions. I hope it didn’t come off as creepy 🤢
You didn’t dwell on a reply, you thumbs swiftly move across the screen as you type out a reply.
You: Why wait? 🫤
Jungkook didn’t want to rush anything just incase the attraction was purely physical. You still had four sessions left. He didn’t want to put either of you in that uncomfortable position of feeling like you were stuck with someone you had a bad experience with. What if you found him boring, or strange, or creepy? Oh he was so stupid, luckily you seemed interested, but he didn’t even ask if you were single or not, he just pounced on you like some sort of predator.
Jungkook (Gym): I want you to keep on coming to the gym. I want it to go well.
Your heart melts. It was endearing. That someone that looked like him could be nervous.
You send a heart emoji and lock your phone, placing it screen down on the table. As you’re about to open your mouth to discuss your messages with Bethany, your phone rings. Flipping it up, you see the name on the screen; Jungkook.
You show Bethany. She snatches the device from you and answers it, shoving it to your ear.
“Hello?” You say.
“Hi. How are you?” His silky, yet raspy voice bleeds through the speakers.
Your eyes zero in on the left over food on your plate, your finger mindlessly tracing patterns into the table.
“I-I’m good. You?”
You could hear the EDM music that played in the gym come through the phone. It must be at work.
“Same. Uh, do you want to come in today? I could help the soreness go away? Well, not completely, but feel better?” He suggests, shyly. You practically see his tattooed arm raise to go behind his neck to shake through the back of his hair.
You didn’t have any plans to go to the gym for another 2 days Your sweaty clothes were still stuffed in your gym bag next to your front door. You hadn’t even bothered to put them in the laundry.
“Uh… I don’t have my gym clothes today.” You lean back in your chair.
Jungkook was unsure of how he was going to come off but he had to try. He really wanted to see you, he felt pathetic having a crush like this. Pursuing a crush like this.
“We have gym apparel here.” He says.
You almost scoff. Not meaning to come off as condescending. You try to disguise the scoff as a cough.
“I’m not really a gym girlie. So I’m not into buying gym clothes like that… I’ll be come in on Friday tho-“
He cuts you off.
“I’m looking at the system now and your membership actually expires tomorrow. You signed up for a 6 month contract and well… its been 6 months.”
He was telling the truth, but he was coming off as desperate.
“Oh. Um, Its my lunch break right now, I guess I could quickly come in to renew. I’ll be there soon.”
You both mutter a quick farewell before ending the phone call.
“Sounds like he really wants to see you.”
You walk into the gym, feeling slightly uneasy dressed in your work clothes, your heels sinking into the padded floor. You immediately spot Jungkook who was currently with a client at one of the machines, a young woman who looked like she didn’t really need to be in the gym, but thats probably what hard work and dedication gets you. Results. He was dressed casually as always, a t-shirt and baggy shorts. This time a beanie encased his raven locks. You rip your gaze away from the two of them and head to the front desk. A young man greets you, you read his name tag ‘Namjoon’. He was tall, buff and oh so handsome. Was that the requirement to work at this gym?
How can I help you today?” Namjoon asks.
“Hi, I need to renew my membership.” You start.
The man smile, his dimple becoming more prominent with every tooth that displays.
“Sure, what’s your name?” His fingers ready to enter your information into the computer.
You give him your name, placing your handbag on to the counter to find your ID just incase.
Namjoon’s eyebrows reach his hairline and his yells for Jungkook. You’re startled at the sudden outburst. You look up at him in confusion. He gives you a curt smile before backing away from the counter and jogging over to Jungkook. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches Jungkook. You’re unable to hear their conversation as a count of the the loud music and the distance. You see Jungkook turn to his client and she dismounts from the machine and takes a swig of water. The two men exchange a few words before Jungkook heads your way. He approaches you with a gleaming smile on his face. You return a shy grin.
He jogs behind the counter.
“Is there a problem? Couldn’t Namjoon, is that his name? Couldn’t he do it?” You tilt your head in wonder.
Jungkook felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, he didn’t enjoy the fact that you seemed to want Namjoon to assist you when he was right there.
You notice his eyes flicker and his smile falter.
“You looked busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You reach your hand out in defence.
His smile returns at its luminescence.
“Its no bother. I was expecting you.” Types in your information into the system and prints out a new contract. He quickly turns around to grab the sheet of paper from the printer. You take the time to admire his back, the image of his shirtless back flashing through your mind.
Your thoughts are interrupted when he puts the contract down on the counter and gestures to the pen perched in it’s stand. He tells you where to sign. You quickly sign and date on the dotted line before handing it back to him.
“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” He asks.
You’re taken aback by the sudden invite.
Before you could respond, Jungkook’s client saunters over to the two of you.
“Kookie, are we going to finish the session?” She leans on the counter, and you take the opportunity to take a glance at her body. She had the physique of a dancer, or a model. She was definitely on someone’s (your) vision board.
You weren’t an overly insecure person, but thats was mostly because you kept to yourself and limited your use of social media. But in times like these, when you unintentionally comparing yourself to another woman who was just simply existing in the presence of a good looking man. You wrap your blazer around your waist trying to shield your shape as you feel her eyes dart up and down your body.
“Yeah give me one second.” He doesn’t turn away from you.
Jungkook was about to open his mouth, when the lady interrupts;
“He’s really good. He’ll get you into shape in no time! He also offers meal plans, if he hasn’t told you already.” She gives you the once over one more time.
You feel yourself fold in. Your shoulder slump and chest caves in. You suddenly become aware of your body and how different it was in comparison to all the people in the gym. In comparison to Jungkook, who was seemingly trying to ask you out right now. You thought of his intentions. Was he trying to garner more business for the gym? Was he going to take you out and suggest that you sign up for more PT sessions? Or maybe he was simply doing his job? And he asked all his clients out to dinner so he could monitor their eating habits?
Or MAYBE it was worse; and he got a kick of leading innocent woman into thinking they had a chance with men like him. And all the people at the gym knew it?
“Clara, I’ll be over in 5 minutes. Namjoon is gonna take over for a while.” He gestures over to Namjoon, who was leaning against a machine, patiently waiting for her to return.
She scoffs before walking away, making a point to sway her hips as she walks away. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks back at you, a smile resting on his visage.
“Are you free tonight?” He asks, his eyes grow with hope.
The hope soon dissipates when he watches your face distort with uncertainty.
“Look, I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me. I just want to get used to coming to the gym first. Um… I know I’m not a supermodel but-.” He stops you.
“What?” He brows furrow in confusion. He runs through the past few minutes in his head and wonders where he may have misled you. He knew he sometimes had the misfortune of mixing up his words and confusing people, but he honestly didn’t think he mixed up his words this time. He barely spoke.
“I appreciate your help, but please don’t feel obliged to go outside the boundaries of the gym t-.” He cuts you off again.
“Boundaries?” He questions.
You swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat, you already felt small, but you felt yourself becoming smaller.
“Yeah. I know you offer ‘meal plans’. But we don’t have to go out for dinner in order for you to sell them to me.” You choke out.
Jungkook’s eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open.
“I-I. No.” Is all he can say.
“No?”
“No. I want to take you out because I like you. Well I like what I know of you. I want to get to know you. I think you’re gorgeous by the way.” The last part comes out under his breath.
You’re lost for words, you don’t know whether you should apologise or question his response.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to wait until after our sessions were done so you didn’t get the wrong impression.” He looks down at his shoes.
You felt so bad, jumping to conclusions, you were the one who forced to ask you sooner. He was trying to make you comfortable, he never said anything about your appearance or made you feel any less than. You forced your insecurities on a really nice guy, who showed a little interest in you.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I should get another trainer. And I’m-“ His gaze meets yours, eyes wide.
“No, no! I still want to be your trainer and take you out! I just hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I really like you.”
You shift in your spot, clutching your bag.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screens a few times. He shows you the screen.
“Look, if you don’t want to get dinner, which I understand. Lets go here. Its a painting cafe, its open til late night and they have drinks. Its really chill. You mentioned in our first session how you wanted yo do something creative, right?”
You smile, he was seemingly trying so hard.
“Okay.” You say, coyly.
He beams.
“Okay?”
You nod.
“I’ll meet you outside at 6:30?” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket.
“Okay!” You smile before turning around and walking away.
This time, Jungkook watches you walk away, failing at containing the smile that had exploded on his face.
Jungkook knew his last client of the day felt rushed, he didn’t bother with the final stretches like he usually does, he didn’t even bother to jokingly flirt with the 75 year old woman like he usually did either. He aided her in putting the 2kg weights back on the rack before running into the men’s changing room, stripping and jumping into the shower.
He scrubbed his body head to toe, making sure to get rid of the grime from the day.
Before he knew it, he was waiting outside of the building, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He catches a glimpse of his reflection and he immediately fixes his hair, one strand would not stay in its place, he knew he needed to use more hair gel. He should’ve asked Jimin if he could use a little more.
Staring through the glass, he saw you coming, caught up in the crowd of people who were dying to get home.
Finally, you come through the doors and walk up to him. You greet him brightly, hoping he can’t hear the nerves plaguing your voice.
He beams at you and asks about your day. He informs you that the place wasn’t too far away and was in walkable distance.
The start of the date was awkward, as expected, no more than a few words at a time being exchanged. He was ever the gentleman, before picking out a design for your canvases, he helped you out with your apron. You fought to keep your knees from buckling as he came in close from behind to tie the back. You do the same for him, the height difference, between the two of you becoming ver present, as well as the broadness of his back.
The host lead you two a secluded room, as you both clutched your chosen designs in hand. The room was quite romantic, low lighting, except for the luminous light surging each easel. There was a table separating the two chairs, displaying the paint and the brushes. You glance at Jungkook and see the look of glee.
You both place the canvases on the easels and take your seats. The host, takes place in front of the two of you.
“You have 2 and a half hours, you are free to use all the material here. If you need anymore, please press the call button.” She gestures to the button, stuck to the end of the table, covered in the paint bottles.
She continues;
“This is an evening painting session, so we now serve wine at the bar. Selective dishes are also available to order. Coffee and snacks are still available. And… please refrain from any inappropriate behaviour, or you will be asked to leave and banned from the premise. We do have CCTV in each room.” She offers an awkward smile and swiftly leaves the room.
Jungkook hopes you don’t think that he brought you here for illicit reasons. Maybe you’d think he was one of those sleazy guys who take women to private rooms and try it on with them. Shit. You haven’t said anything. Shit. He hasn’t said anything. He’s been in his head for the past few seconds.
“I hope I’m not bad at this.” You say, breaking the silence, with a light laugh.
He turns to you and smiles, picking up a paintbrush and offering it to you. You take it and return the smile.
From then on, the date runs smoothly. You both decide to order a bottle of wine and share a plate of pasta. One bottle turned into two, and the room was filled with laughter and stories. The misunderstandings of the afternoon long forgotten. Before you knew it, a voice came through a small speaker, you didn’t know was there, reminding you that you had 10 minutes left.
In a burst of tipsy laughter, the two of you hurriedly finish your paintings.
Picking up your painting and Jungkook to the ‘drying station’, located, near the entrance. You both remove your paint covered aprons before attending to your paintings once again. You take a peek at his masterpiece before you flick on the hairdryer.
“How are you real?” You ask in disbelief.
He tilts his head in confusion.
“You look amazing, you’re nice, and you can paint. What can’t you do?” You giggle.
He laughs and shakes his head.
“No, no. I- You- I mean thank you. But I think the same about you.” He says quickly turning on his hairdryer, aiming it at his picture.
The hum of the machines fill the room, echoing your laughter that once filled your ears. Your ears, that were now flushed with flattery.
The hostess takes both paintings, wrapping them up carefully, and handing you both your respective bags. She taps on the register, reading off the total bill. You reach in your bag to find your card, yeah, it was a date, but you felt strange standing there as Jungkook paid for something that could’ve easily been a platonic date… Your thoughts are interrupted.
“Do you want the receipt?”
“Huh?” The sound slipped out.
Jungkook looks at you before answering.
“No thank you. Thank you, have a nice evening.” His free hand grabs yours and he guides you both outside.
So… not a platonic date then.
The street was much busier than it had been than when you had arrived. It was filled with people unwinding after a long day at work, ready for the weekend. It was also littered with loved up couples, holding hands, looking for places to eat, talking to each other about who knows what. If anyone were to look at the two of you, they would think you were one of those lovelorn couples. The way your hand fit in his, pace matching his, laughter mixing harmoniously with his.
“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.” You pull him to a stop, pulling him into a side road, away from the foot traffic.
Jungkook feels his heart swell, he was so happy. He felt like it went well, but to hear you say it? Made him feel like he was flying. To think that a few hours ago, it was all almost slipping away from him. He found himself drawn to you, he couldn’t explain it. He always believed that that’s how he’d find his ‘person’. It would just feel right. And it does.
“Me too. Thank you for giving me a chance.” He takes both your hand in his, eyes growing double in size.
You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to look cute, but here he was, with his eyes shining, looking down at you. Looking as adorable as ever. You move closer, you were aware of your actions, but you also knew that the wine you drank was giving you the courage to do what you were about to do.
“I would like to k-“
“Yes.” A puff of air tickles your lips, as he closes his eyes.
He doesn’t feel anything.
He opens his eyes and steps back.
“Oh I’m sorry, I as-“
You pull him in and plant you lips on his. Its not perfect, you miss slightly, you feel his lips curl into smile. His hand leaves yours and meets your waist, bringing you in closer, he readjusts his lips on yours. His lip rings indenting into the plum flesh of your bottom lip. You have the sudden urge to feel it on your tongue. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, letting it tease the metal accessory for a few milliseconds before slipping it into his mouth. A low growl rumbles in his throat and he tangles is tongue with yours. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hand wonders from your waist to your lower back, fingers inching closer to your behind.
The sound of a throat clearing brings you to a halt.
You separate, the rustling of your bags, sounding like teens laughing at their peers being caught making out at a high school house party.
“We should uh… get going.” You say, using your fingers to wipe the saliva from your mouth.
Jungkook licks his lips and nods. You were more than ready to go about being awkward and distant but that was never his plan, he grabs your hand and walks with you like he’d been kissing you like that.
He walks you back to the work building and calls you a taxi. You both bid each other a sweet goodnight, exchanging smiles and hugs before parting ways.
Jungkook makes sure to text you as soon as he watches your taxi drive down the road, telling you how much he enjoyed spending time and how he hopes he could do it sometime soon.
Your heart jumps at the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag. It does backflips as your eyes take in his words. For the second time that evening you ask him;
You: How are you real? 😂
He smiles to himself as he heads home, he snaps a quick picture of himself and sends it.
Jungkook 💕: Very real and all yours lol
He immediately regrets sending it. Fingers scrambling, he sends a second message.
Jungkook💕: If you’ll have me 🥴
He must be playing a joke on you, right? What does this tall, handsome, funny, sweet PERSONAL TRAINER want with you? He’s seen you, right? He’s seen the other women who go to his gym, right?
Jungkook looks at his message and sees the ‘1’ disappear. You read it. And you weren’t replying. He came on too strong. Great, he ruined the perfect evening.
Just as about he was about to type out an apology, your message pops up.
You: Do you have a fetish or something?
He furrows his eyebrows. Figuring texting is messing up true feelings, he presses the voice call button.
Your eyes widen when you see his name on your screen. You pick up.
“Hi.”
“Hey. Fetish?” He gets right to it.
“Yeah. You know…” Your voice comes out as a whisper.
He stops walking, he sits on a bench.
“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m very confused.”
You felt so embarrassed. You let your insecurities get the best of you and sabotage this relationship before it had the chance to even start.
“Jungkook. You’re you and…”
You pause. You feel your eyes water.
“I’m me. I’m not in the best shape and I’m not skinny or have a perfect hourglass figure. I’m definitely heavier than you.” You let out a dry laugh.
“I’m struggling to understand and believe that you like me. And that this isn’t some sort of sexual thing.” Your breath shakes.
Jungkook’s brows are now in permanent furrowed state, that never crossed his mind. Of course it didn’t because he didn’t think of you like that.
He says your name. It was different from the way you’ve heard it said by other guys before when you’ve brought up the same issue. He didn’t say with defeat or dipped in grease. It was usually followed by ‘you should take it as a compliment, I think big girls are sexy’. ‘I wanted to see what it was like’
Jungkook said nothing of the sort;
‘I’m me and you’re you. I like you. I like everything about you. Well, what I know so far, I want to know more. I want to go on more dates, I want to see where this goes. Hopefully it can go far. I’d really like that. And you may not understand why I like you, but you don’t have to right now, I’ll show you. I’m sorry if a guy has made you feel like you’re a plaything and not likeable. I wish I could punch him.”
You laugh.
“I like hearing you laugh. I want to be the reason for that. Thank you telling me how you feel and not just ghosting. I appreciate it. “ You could hear him smile through the phone.
He couldn’t be real. But you had to tell yourself he was or you’d fuck it up.
“Thank you for not being weirded out.” You sniffle.
He laughs.
“After kissing me like that? I’m locked in.”
2 months later
Jungkook was a very understanding and patient boyfriend. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice from his job as a personal trainer. He pushed you to try new things, go to new places, but he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a living manifestation of your dream man.
He had asked you to be his girlfriend during your 5th and final training session. You were stretching together, he had your leg stretched out and next to your head (definitely not gym approved), when he ‘popped the question’. You agreed very quickly and kissed him, only for the kiss to be interrupted by ‘Clara’, the client who was convinced that she was playing the long game with Jungkook.
She lets out a loud gasp before storming out of the room.
“I think I may have lost you a client. Sorry.” You giggle.
He pecks your lips and releases your leg.
“But I gained a girlfriend.
Jungkook invites you over for a movie night after work on a Friday night. He’s ever the gentleman, he waits outside the building, takes your bag and holds your hand the entire walk to his house. You had been over to apartment on several occasions. But never for an overnight stay, for a moment or two before heading out. You head to the bathroom, taking your overnight bag, you wash off your makeup, change out of work clothes and into a oversize shirt and sleep shorts. Neatly folding your clothes back into your bag, you head back out into the living room.
He looks up at you as you place your bag under the breakfast bar.
“You look cute.” He smiles, cutting up strawberries into a bowl.
You walk up next to him, your brushing up his broad back and wrapping around his waist. You kiss his cheek.
“Thank you.” You kiss his jaw.
You were both quite wary when it came to physical intimacy, you’d cuddle, hold hands and occasionally kiss, but things were moving very slowly. You wondered if he was even attracted to you (you tried to push the bad thoughts to the back of your head) , as he rarely ever initiated contact. You were still trying to come across has chill and nonchalant, but the truth was… you were horny. You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, he was gorgeous. He had been bragging about a delicious dish that he learned to make, and how excited he was to show you. You were a bit reluctant about accepting the invite, you’d been to his apartment before, but for only a few minutes at a time. You had never spent time with him in his house with access to a bed.
You help him cook, despite him telling you to sit down. You both sit down and enjoy the meal, sharing laughs and stories from the day. After eating, you wash up together, feeling very domestic.
Drying your hands, you shyly you ask;
“Should we watch a movie?”
Jungkook dries the last bowl and smiles, that shy smile that you adored so much.
“Sure, the remote is on the couch. Pick whatever.”
You place the dish towel down ever so carefully, the silence lingering in air before you speak.
“I uh was thinking we could uh watch it in your bedroom. If you’re comfortable of course.” You pick the towel up once more, wringing it in your hands, palms turning red.
He notices your hesitation, places the bowl in the cabinet, gently pulls the towel out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. You immediately relax into the hug.
“Don’t be nervous to ask for things like that. I want to cuddle with you wherever. It’ll be nice.”
Before you knew it, you were under the sheets with Jungkook on top of you, lips locked, legs too, entangled in a heated position. One arm was around his neck and one was around his tiny waist, sneaking up his shirt. He moaned into the kiss, the deep guttural sound causing a pool arousal to soak your underwear. His large hand had naturally made its way on to your breasts, he has growled at the feeling of your braless tits in his hand. His other hand was above you, resting on the pillow. He let his body rest on you a little, increasing your temperature ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling something firm pressed against your stomach. He kisses your lips once more before moving to your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck, sucking your skin slightly. You weren’t a particularly vocal person in bed, but his actions were making hard for you to keep quiet, involuntary whines escaping your body.
“I-I’m h-hot.” You whimper.
He smirks.
“Yeah, you are.”
You snort.
“No~ I’m literally hot, can we take off the blanket?”
“Oh.” He laughs and flips the blanket off, rolling to the side of you, leaning on his elbow.
He stares at you. Before you could ask a question, his lips are on yours again. His hand cups your jaw. You kiss him back fervently, your hand
He pulls away, lips a hairbreadth from yours. His hand travels down your body, caressing your breast, squeezing your waist. Which makes you tense up. Your waist and stomach were areas that you were self conscious about, it felt like he was squeezing your flaws.
Think about something else. Thinking about something else.
He feels you go stiff.
“Are you okay?” He asks, lips pink and swollen.
You nod.
“Just touch me.” You grab his hand and place it on your waistband.
He bites his lips, without breaking eye contact, his fingers disappear into your shorts. He touches you over your panties first. He moans at the feeling of the soaked material.
“You’re so wet. All for me?” He smirks, eyebrows raised.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he moves your panties to the side and his thumb meets your clit, fingers gliding over your folds. He takes his time before curling his long fingers into you, causing your to moan out in pleasure, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He slowly fucks his fingers into you. The room is filled with the crude wet sound of your heat and the murmur of the voices of the long forgotten movie playing on TV.
You’ve never sounded like this before, unintelligible sounds tumbling from your lips as he pumps his digits in and out, hitting that place deep inside you.
“Y-your’e gonna make me c-“ You kiss him and place your hand on his bulge that had been growing.
He hisses, bucking into your hand. He takes his fingers out of you and hurriedly removes your shorts and underwear. You barely have time to think when his mouth meets your centre. His thick tongue licks you up, sucking on your pearl, like the best candy he’s ever tasted in his life. Your hands shoot out to grab his hair as you shake. You grunt out his name as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you try to catch your breath.
Jungkook rises to his knees and rips off his shirt, you catch a glimpse of his adonis like body before his kisses you. How were you in bed with someone who looks like that? Even though you had just felt like jelly, your brain tells your body to tense up. You kiss him back, trying your best to push the thoughts away, but as your hand feel up his toned, muscular physique, it was getting harder to fight them away.
Jungkook feels you tense under his touch. He pecks your lips before pulling away.
“Are you okay?” He asks, brown eyes glistening.
You nod and try to push the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. He raises his eyebrows, non verbally questioning you. You nod once again and presses your lips against his. He moans and kisses you back passionately. His hands wonder again, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your muscles tense once again. He feels you go stiff, he pulls away again.
Your eyes remain closed, scared to look at him. You’ve really fucked up now, he probably thinks you’re weird, and he probably regrets giving a ‘fat’ girl a chance.
“You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong baby.” He moves closer to you and brushes hair out of your face, but then he quickly retracts.
“Do you not want me to touch you?”
You open your eyes, not daring to look at him, your stare tasering in on every detail of his bedroom ceiling.
“I’m sorry if I m-“
“No! I just have- I’m just… All I keep thinking of is what you must think.”
He looks at you puzzled.
“What I think?”
You take a deep breath and sit up, pulling your legs into yourself.
“You must’ve been with girls who have insane bodies, and you work at a gym for god’s sake! And now you’ve got to tolerate me. I don’t wanna put you off by taking off my shirt.” You ramble.
Jungkook barely keeps up with your words, he wants to grab you and tell you that you’re beautiful, and that he is more than attracted to you. But he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you were literally telling him how you were uncomfortable you were with him touching you. Well, you didn’t say that explicitly but he didn’t want to push you further.
Him just sitting there was making you more anxious, maybe he had been hiding his true feelings. He did find you repulsive, maybe he was being kind and didn’t know how to let you down gently.
Without sparing a glance his way, you attempt to get off the bed. He stops you, hand gently landing one your thigh. You stare down at his tattooed fingers, slightly gripping, leaving dents in your skin.
“Don’t go. I think you’re gorgeous. L-like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, to date, to kiss… To touch.”
You scoot back on the bed, eyes never leaving his.
“N-now I understand if you don’t wanna stay the night anymore, but.. I really want you to stay. And we don’t have to do anything, I won’t even touch you. I can sleep on the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”
He moves his hand towards your face, fingertips hovering over your cheek, scared to brush your hair out of your face.
“Even if you want to leave, please don’t leave thinking that I don’t want you or that I’m not attracted to you. You are perfect to me and it sucks that guys have made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. “
You look into his eyes and you can feel his sincerity. You lean into his open hand, letting his palm warm your cheek.
“I-i want you to touch me. I want you to want to touch me.”
Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you.
“I do want to touch you. I want to do more than that. But I want you to feel more than comfortable with that.”
You kiss him, deepening the kiss before he even has the chance to pull away. You wrap your arms around his neck and you fall back, pulling him on top of you.
He rolls you both onto your sides and places his hands firmly on your hips. He moans into your mouth, sending heart down between your legs. You clench around nothing and rub your legs together, in an attempt to relieve yourself.
Jungkook’s hand brushes your thigh, as if he was asking for an invitation inside. You spread to let him in, his fingertips once again dance along your folds, becoming slick with arousal. He toys with your hardening nub, making you twist and turn. His mouth detaches from yours and land on your neck. He licks and kisses a spot that makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your arms wrap around his body, nails digging into the taut skin of his back. His fingers tease your opening before plunging in deep. His fingers move smoothly and quickly, pulling egregious noises from your lips. He feels you tighten around his fingers.
“Are you gonna cum for me again? Soak my fingers?” He whispers in your ear.
You feel a burning flash run through your body as you let go and experience release. You come undone and as you do, he presses his lips against yours, licking into your mouth. He gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings his fingers to his lips, alternating between kissing you and tasting your release.
Breath heavy, you snake your hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing his hardness in his boxers. He shudders. It had been a while since he had had sex. People perceived him as a hardcore fuckboy but he was truly the opposite. He wanted to be in a relationship, truthfully, that’s the only way he could cum, knowing the person beneath him was ‘his’.
“I don’t think I’m gonna last. I-I’m sorry.” He breathes out.
You smirk before pushing him back onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You bend at the waist and place a kiss over his boxers. His breathing gets heavier, chest heaving, abs clenching.
You palm his length before pulling him out and taking him into your mouth. You both moan as you sink deeper and feel him it the back off your throat. You suck gently, pulling off to lick at his tip.
His hand lands on the back off your head, slowly coming around to stroke your cheek. You maintain eye contact as you bob up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he throws his arm over his eyes, unable to control his body as the pleasure takes over.
Suddenly, he gently pulls your hair, forcing you off of him.
“I’m gonna cum. I wanna feel you.” He confesses.
He sits up and reaches over to open his bedside table draw. You watch as he pulls out a foil packet. Expertly, he rips it open and slides the condom over his length. He turns back to you, encouraging you to lay back on the bed.
You lay back, and part your legs. He lines up with your core and gently pushes in. He hisses out a few curse words as he feels. You tighten around him. He almost collapses with how good it feels.
“So fucking tight.” He says through gritted teeth.
His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks back and forth. His tip hitting a spot in you that makes you scream in pleasure. He leans over you, encouraging you to hold on to him.
You both find a steady rhythm, moans reaching a crescendo as you explode. He follows shortly after, you feel the warm fill the condom. He rolls off you and next to you on the bed.
“Y-you are so sexy. Fuck.” He breathes out, chest heaving.
You laugh and turn to look at him.
“Thank you. I think you are too.” You reach out and brush his slightly damp hair out of his face. The angles of his chiseled face glisten more with the assistance of the tin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin.
He scoots closer to you and pecks your lips before getting up to get rid of the soiled condom that has become baggy with the deflation of his length.
You watch his figure as he heads into the bathroom.
You sigh a sigh of happiness. You might never be completely happy with yourself but you hope you can be happy with him and learn to love yourself as much as he might.
Hope you enjoyed this! Once again, no mean message please :)
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𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 | torture + non-con
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — art the clown x fem!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, art the clown in general, torture, non-con, slight kidnapping (?), bondage, knife play, blood + blood play, violence, fingering (not sanitary knowing art, wash yall’s hands !!), slight dacryphilia
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — foreword, i do NOT condone anything in this fic ! david howard thornton himself actually said art would be against this and i find art a comfort character, this is just for kinktober purposes 😞 if you guys are NOT comfortable with non-con or torture please do not read this, spare yourself the pain please i beg 😭 i will not be upset bruh
you were a force to be reckoned with, that much was evident.
whether it was because you were drunk or with a friend group that made peer pressure feel good, it didn’t matter to the black and white clown you approached at the club. he had been standing there for the past hour or so, staring at you through the split in the crowd.
obviously he had a crush on you. that was what your friend whispered in your ear with a little nudge to your side and a drunken giggle.
your devil costume left very little to the imagination, faux red leather hugging your curves. that had to be it, without a doubt. you had already been getting attention throughout the night, so this was only more fuel to the fire that was your ego.
his costume was detailed to say the least. the fake blood on his costume looked rusty as opposed to the cherry coloring on everybody else’s clothes and faces. he must’ve made it himself.
it took a few more pushes of encouragement until you finally went up to him, wondering why he was unable to take his eyes off of you. it wasn’t flagged as creepy in your fogged mind, rather flattered.
“you’ve got a staring problem, don’t ya?” you shouted over the music with a giggle, leaning against the bar counter for support. your high heels definitely didn’t cheap out on the high part.
looking at him up close definitely made your mind wander a little more. he was much taller than you — likely over six foot — and seemed pretty lanky under that suit. his eyes were a brilliant blue, starkly contrasting the black makeup neatly circled around them, and they couldn’t seem to get away from you. his hooked nose, as well as his entire face, was painted white and had a singular black dot on the tip of it.
something about him piqued your interest, and it only grew when he didn’t answer you. instead, he smiled and tilted his head down, like he was feigning some bashfulness. it was cute. you respected the commitment to the act.
“i don’t suppose you want something from me?” those drinks you had earlier were kicking in, making your confidence soar to unnatural heights. “what’s your name?”
you expected him to drop his little facade and lean in and tell you. but he didn’t. he reached for your wrist and shifted your palm upwards. you were beyond curious, but allowed him into your space.
he dragged his finger across your palm a few times, you piecing the motions together. a-r-t. “art. oh, your name’s art?” the clown nodded with a wide grin.
that wasn’t his last trick, it seemed. from the palm of his hand, he revealed a fake red rose. the synthetic petals were slightly crumpled and stained with drops of something even darker than its natural color.
it was a little corny, but you blushed nonetheless. it was sweet. he gestured for you to take it, so you did.
“hey, let’s get outta here. the music’s making my head hurt.” the second part was a lie, but your motives were relatively pure. you thought that he was only silent because of the volume. maybe the fresh air would make him open up a little bit more.
art nodded a little too eagerly and started moving you towards the door. you could only give your friends a very brief glance, them offering you smiles and raised thumbs before you vanished outside. you would soon wish that they’d kept you inside.
you took in a deep breath of fresh air outside, observing the parking lot. there was not a person in sight. they were all inside. except for you and art.
art. you spun around to see where he had gone and found him hunched over a black trash bag. initially, you were going to pull him away from it, thinking he was digging through waste when he suddenly straightened up and turned towards you. his hands were behind his back.
words got caught in your throat and you found yourself laughing to fill the silence. a wave of anxiety washed over you until art revealed another fake rose. this one was attached to a plastic stem.
but while you graciously accepted his second offering, you failed to notice the bat he had brought down onto the side of your head.
—
you never had a concussion in your life, but you were sure this was what it felt like.
you awoke to a blinding headache and nausea bubbling in your stomach. your vision refused to adjust properly, but you couldn’t miss art’s black and white suit in front of you. your depth perception wasn’t the most reliable, but your body knew to start acting.
you went to kick and scream but found it futile. duct tape muffled your cries, though it was ripped off faster than you could register it was there, and thick rope around your limbs kept you still against the table you were draped over. a few blinks helped you understand your predicament: you had been moved to some sort of warehouse and were tied down to a cold, steel table that had goosebumps prickling on your exposed skin.
your clothes were intact, which made you sigh. one victory.
though you weren’t sure for how long. art hovered over you from the side of the table, his sick grin mocking you as he eyed you from head to toe. it felt like he had already undressed you just by the way he was sizing you up.
that came next. with his one hand that was free, he started to drag his finger down the center of your chest. the closer he got to the low-cut hem of your top, the louder your protests became. art was prepared for that.
he brought a thick chain with several rusted scalpels and medical scissors down onto your legs, creating multiple shallow breaks in your skin. you screamed out. he whipped you again. this time you bit back guttural cries and accepted his hand.
his face screamed disgust and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe that you would ever ask him to stop. the way his creased white face morphed was eerie. it rendered you silent while he unzipped your tiny red corset.
you flinched when it popped open, exposing your tits. you hurried to cover yourself but your arms only moved as far as the rope allowed you to. either way, art flung his chain at the arm closest to him and you had to choke back a scream.
blood seeped from countless wounds, warmth running down and onto the table. you squirmed and cried as much as art allowed you to. he seemed to enjoy your agonized writhing, running dirtied fingertips over your open cuts.
“please, please,” you whined. it was mindless rambling at that point because you knew he wouldn’t.
he had shifted his attention down to your pleather skirt, slowly undoing the zipper on the side. you wanted to kick and fight but you dreaded the idea of getting cut into even worse. so you let him peel it off of you, along with your panties.
“oh god, oh god,” you sobbed, clamping your legs together to keep some of your dignity. art must have been keeping a spare blade tucked in his hand because suddenly he sliced deep into the side of your thigh. you couldn’t help the scream that tore from you, which earned you another gash along your ribcage.
you started to think he was bleeding you dry as slowly as he could. but not after he had his fun first. your body shook underneath his gloved hand as it traveled down your stomach and towards your bare pussy.
part of you thought he was going to force your legs apart and jam as many scalpels inside of you as he could manage, so you resisted when he tried to pry them open. but when he did, after lashing you a few more times, he ran his blood soaked fingertips through your folds, making it slick for him.
it was nauseating at first. but after he pushed two fingers into you, the strange sensation of his fingerless gloves sliding inside, that feeling simmered into pleasure. you choked on a whine, your body fighting the urge to roll your hips into his hand.
your skepticism prevailed the second he slid his blade across your stomach. you cried out, and art felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers. the reaction was satisfactory to him and he gave you a few more markings before deciding you’d had enough for now.
the blade clattered onto the table a moment later and his freed hand went to your breast. you couldn’t deny what it did to you. the pain was beginning to make you delirious and you melted into his touch a few times. you pulled against your restraints but it didn’t get you very far.
for a while, he worked into a steady pace that had you crying out with more pleasure than pain. your cuts stung, but those sharp pains added to your rapidly building orgasm, that was only really accumulating with your eyes closed.
art didn’t seem to appreciate that, quickly finding his blade and carving something into your skin. it tore you out of your momentary tranquility and a scream ripped from your throat. as you did, his other hand curled inside of you and a moan fought to follow. pain and pleasure battled inside of you, and it was sick that the pleasure was threatening to win.
your body twisted to get away from the scalpel in your side but it was to no avail. he cut and sliced until he had crudely carved the word “CUNT” into the fleshy part of the side of your waist. blood oozed out of the deep gashes and art ran his gloved hand through it, smearing it all over your skin. crimson covered your breast as he came up to grab it again.
you got the message to look him in the eyes while you came, which came soon after he added a third finger. how he was able to do it with ease made you sick. you shouldn’t have been enjoying yourself in any way. you would probably need stitches and therapy after this.
but now, all you could focus on was his long fingers. the feel of his fabric white fingerless gloves inside of you, probably soaked with your blood and slick. your gashes burned every time your back arched off of the table but somehow, it intensified the growing fire in your stomach. that tensing of your thighs, the weak thrusts of your hips that attempted to match his.
it amazed you how he was still silent, blue beady eyes focused on you and only you. they started to widen when your moans went pitchy, like he was encouraging you to let go. he didn’t look so scary then. his face went closer to yours, and he was shocked that you didn’t immediately flinch back.
he offered you slow nods as his fingers continued their assault on you. your thighs parted in acceptance and defeat, your orgasm finally crashing into you. moans came out mingled with sobs because it was over.
your mind was spinning, and he granted you a moment to compose yourself before getting back to work. breathy pants quickly turned into raspy screams once more as he swiftly carved something else into the bloodied inside of your thigh:
ART WAS HERE
#art the clown#terrifier#terrifier smut#art the clown terrifier#terrifier art#terrifier art the clown#art the clown x reader#art the clown x you#art the clown smut#horror kinktober#horror smut#slashers#slasher smut
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Can you get a sinus infection from doing a shavedown on a dog, asking for a friend 🙃
#it was only yesterday but I woke up absolutely MISERABLE#the dog was in. very bad shape so it wasn't a very sanitary groom and I'm sure that didn't help#The worst part is i brought a mask and pulled it down to talk to the other over the clippers and forgot to put it back up 😭
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𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰: 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱
Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)
Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.
Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.
No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling
The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.
But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.
You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.
For He was always there.
Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.
The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.
My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho
You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.
You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.
There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.
Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.
Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.
His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.
The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.
The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.
All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.
The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?
All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.
How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.
His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.
It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?
The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.
You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.
Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?
The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.
He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?
The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.
You fell asleep.
You lost the game.
The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.
Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.
He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.
Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.
But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.
Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anything—anything—and you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.
“Mine,” he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunho’s smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.
As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunho’s face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunho’s hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.
“Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But there’s something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.
“What do you want?” you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.
Yunho’s smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You. I want you, all of you. And I’m not letting you go.”
The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.
And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.
“What are you going to do to me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you can’t quite suppress.
Yunho’s smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. “That depends on you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. “But one thing is certain—you won’t ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunho’s gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you won’t. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadn’t known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.
And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that you’re not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunho’s obsession.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll take care of you my princess, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted… if you let me.”
His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “For you. You have no idea how much I want you.”
His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.
His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he’s too rough. But you’re not going anywhere—you can’t, even if you wanted to.
There’s a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.
'How I needed you'
His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.
The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.
Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.
When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Say it.”
There’s no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. “I’m yours.”
Yunho’s eyes flare with satisfaction, and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.
He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.
A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.
You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.
Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?
His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunho’s touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect.”
The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.
Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.
'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.
Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.
His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.
He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?
'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.
Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.
A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.
You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.
'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.
Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.
The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.
"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.
Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."
Yunho’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.
With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.
"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."
Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."
Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."
His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.
You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.
Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."
Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.
"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you. You’re mine, all of you. I don’t care who’s looked at you, touched you before. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to claim you."
His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marks—like he wanted to brand you as his. "I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."
He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.
"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. I’ll make sure of it."
His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "I’ll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You won’t be able to think about anyone but me."
He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and I’ll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."
He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And I’m going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."
His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you."
He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.
Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.
He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.
His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.
"I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."
You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.
"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.
Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.
He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasn’t just taking you—he was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.
'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.
A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.
'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.
The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.
As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.
Yunho’s grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.
When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "I’ve been watching you for so long... you can’t escape me now, princess."
The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tenderness—only the certainty that he wasn’t letting go.
"I’ll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.
Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.
I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.
Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn
#ateez fic#ateez smut#ateez#yunho x reader#jeong yunho x reader#yunho fic#yunho smut#kinktober 2024#ateez x reader#atz yunho#ateez fanfic#yunho fanfic#ateez x y/n#ateez hard hours#dark fic#ateez yandere#yandere fic
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