First off, if the askbox on my profile says "requests open", they are open. If it says "requests closed" they are closed, and any requests made will be deleted.
Asks that aren't requests, and conversation, are welcome at any time!
Rules for requesting:
I mean that. I am a lover of dark content, and I hope to explore such themes in my works.
I will write for all members of &team, and Ni-ki of enhypen (mostly &team, don't come expecting a lot of Ni-ki)
I will write fluff, smut and angst. Very few things are dealbreakers, so get as saddening or as freaky as you want.
However, I do have hard limits.
That's all for now, but that list is liable to grow.
I will not write paedophilia, zoophilia, scat kink, piss kink, raceplay, or ageplay.
I also won't write member x member without a reader character present.
For the sake of people who cannot stomach dark content but wish to read my other works, I will put warnings at the top of the post and put tags of what may be triggering in the tags. I'll tag the triggers in this post too so you know what to block.
Minors, if you are here, I would prefer it if you stayed off my page. However, I was your age once, and I read the smutty stuff back then as much as anything else. So please, if you are here, do not interact too much. Get lost in the crowd. Don't let me know you were here. Heed the warnings and tags and be responsible for your own social media experience. I am not your parent, learn your own boundaries, independence, and know when to click away.
Speaking of which, anyone that has a problem with my writing, or believes the fiction I write/will write is indicative of my personal beliefs, I advise you stay off my page. Save your energy and mine.
With that being said, request away! I cannot give a hard promise on when fics will be out, requests or not, but I will post whenever I can.
Also intended as a gift fic for @smidare but idk if she knew about that loll thank you for inspiring me to write again
Bf!Idol!Fuma x gf!reader
Tags: Suggestive, ab worship, Reader is a tease, kissing, hickeys, allusions to smut, I think that's everything? I'm real rusty with tags so if anyone sees this and has more ideas let me know
wc: 2,430
Edit because I somehow forgot this: but minors please do not interact! Don't let me know you were here. This content is not for you.
It was no secret your boyfriend was jacked.
His members knew it from sharing dorms with him for 4 years.Â
His fans knew it from the numerous times he'd graced them by wearing a singlet and showed off his arms. When he blessed them by opening or outright taking off his shirt to reveal his abs.
You knew it because you must've saved a country in a past life. To be the lucky person who got to see his body every time you asked, or pouted, or so much as batted your eyelashes in that specific slow way.
But seeing can only do so much to calm the lust infused curiosity inside you. You'd felt his arms. Both when your arms were linked together while walking outside a row of shops, and the times you'd straight up asked to see them. He'd obliged with a chuckle, folding up his arm and flexing.Â
The muscles of his biceps hadn't so much as twitched or flinched when you gingerly touched them. Rock solid barely did them justice, his biceps could rival diamonds. And they were so thick too. Your hands weren't the biggest, but they weren't the smallest either. Still, when you wrapped your hand around his arm, there was a sizeable portion of the circumference left untouched.Â
The feeling of the hard muscle cording under soft skin had made your mouth water. And God help you when he flexed the muscle back and forth. You almost fainted from the mass of blood that pooled to your pussy, suddenly developing strength of your own to pull him into the bedroom and ride him until your entire body ached and shivered.
But there was one other thing you'd yet to check off your bucket list. You, for some unfathomable reason, had not felt up his abs yet.Â
Looking at him now, freshly showered and sitting on the couch in a t-shirt almost bursting at the seams from the sheer size of his pecs, the fabric stretched tight enough to see the divots of his abs through the black fabric, you had never felt stupider. How could you have neglected the majesty that was Fuma's abs? What a blessing to have a face and heart so distracting it diverted your gaze from below, but enough was enough.Â
God, he'd been so excited to be in that magazine.Â
His gaze was narrowed as you gaped at the pages. This man, your personal ruin, didnât even bother to hide the smirk on his face as you unblinkingly stared at the brazen display of male perfection in that magazine. How could you blink? It would take away a split second better spent admiring the ethereal man in the photos. The same man sat on the other side of your couch chuckling as he stared at you.
You couldnât even form any compliments to give him. All your thoughts consisted of undignified barking and promises that you were going to suck his dick as a reward for the blessing your eyes received. God, the long blonde hair in the half-up, the warm lighting highlighting his beautiful dark brown eyes. The harsh ridges of his abs peeking through the black suit. It made your mouth water. You were sure you were drooling.Â
âDo you like it, love?â The deep timbre of his voice asked, so perfectly matching the flawless masculinity of his body.Â
You could barely answer, too set in your daze. Of all the thoughts soaked in your lust, one rose to the surface and stayed.
You had to feel this manâs abs, now.Â
You swallowed thickly and put the magazine down on the couch cushion beside you. Then looked at him. Heâd changed his hair now, a shorter wolfcut in a dirty blonde, but his eyes were still the exact same dark brown. Except for now, when they were narrowed and his mouth upturned in a smug smirk, knowing of the effect he had on you. He dipped the tip of his thumb in his mouth back and forth while pretending to wonder why you were so out of your mind.
As if he wasnât the one whose mere existence sent you into a spiral of horny madness.Â
You got up from your spot on the couch and sat beside him, your thigh pressed into his. You stared directly into his face, still donning the smug expression. He placed his hand on your thigh, sending a wave of heat spreading through your body.
âSo did you like it?â The tease.
You breathed deeply, barely holding yourself back. âYes.â Your voice was deceptively calm.
The hand that was touching your thigh moved up to curl your hair in his fingers. You pressed deeper into him, sneaking a hand onto his ribcage. The t-shirt he was wearing did a comically poor job at hiding his frame, the fabric sticking to his pecs like tape and even revealing the shadows of what was below them. You moved your hand up and down like you were petting him, trying to sneak a feel further and further down.
But Fuma was no idiot.
He smiled wider as he took your wandering hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. âSomething you want to ask?â
He was urging you. He knew what you wanted, but if there was one thing Fuma loved, it was watching you fluster and squirm before finally giving in to your desires and asking for what you truly wanted. You werenât going to get a feel unless you asked him yourself.
You blinked at him, used to his games and unsurprised by his request. But unbeknownst to him, you knew exactly what you wanted. Your usual fluster wasnât showing her face.Â
Just pure, carnal, want.
So you had no qualms voicing your wants.
âI want to feel your abs.â
He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes gleamed. âYou can.â
You didnât waste a millisecond. Blasting out of your relaxed stance curled up at his side, you tugged at the poor excuse of a shirt until he laughed brightly, taking it off and letting it fall to the floor.
There they were. In all their majesty. Thick, strong planes of muscle divided by deep ridges. A smattering of dark hair that traced below his belly button to under his pants. Your gaze zeroed in on them, ripe for the feeling, and Fuma, in all this teasing menace, flexed them, the few seconds youâd spent admiring him too long to stroke his ego.
You placed your hand down over them. Splayed out, like you didnât know what to do but were greedy nonetheless. They were hard. Harder than his arms. Dense and unyielding. A sign of true strength that made your mouth water at what they represented. You ran your fingers up to the top of them, making your way down at a snailâs pace. This was the first time youâd done this, you were going to savour it like a five course meal.
His body was so different to yours. Where you were soft, he was toned to the gods. A modern day Adonis.Â
Every centimetre, every groove your fingers caught on made you shiver. Youâd known your boyfriend was strong, your goings on in bed were more than enough proof of his prowess. But getting to feel them, hard muscle signature of the ideal figure, was a different story. It spoke to the primal urge inside you that screamed to take. The type of partner bested by none, one that could provide everything you wanted, needed.
It wasnât shocking to the mind, but to the body, your body, as you traced the lines, it made you gape in surprise. It was your reaction to the pictures in the magazine all over again. Fuma pulled you into him, settling your head in the crook of his neck as you rested your hand over him, stopping completely and catching up with the rush of heat spreading into every corner of your body. You stuttered out a breath.
âWowâŠâ
He laughed. âThatâs all you have to say? Wow?â
Your hand shifted a fraction. âTheyâre so⊠hard.â
You stroked your hair. âYeah. They are. Like them?â
You moved to look at him. âYou know I do.â
He chuckled. âJust checking, love.â
The petname in his deep voice alone was enough to have an effect on you, but the symbol of his love combined with the panty-dropping sight and feel underneath your fingers was enough for a fresh wave of your juices to soak your panties beyond saving. You looked down at his abs again, your eyes calculating your next move. Fuma followed suit, instead his eyes carried a cocky glint.Â
You trailed your hand downwards. Slowly still, past the bottom two planes of pure muscle and dusting of hair leading into the waistband of his pants. Fuma breathed sharply, shifting his stance on the couch to spread his legs and give you what you wanted to take.Â
Or so he thought.
For your hand didnât tease down to his crotch. Didnât breeze over the half-hard bulge in his pants, certainly didnât cup it and squeeze it lightly that made him roll back his head. No. You simply rested it on his thigh, rubbing right up on his groin a centimetre away from his dick. He breathed heavy, joining you in your lust as you rubbed him in the exact spot where he could feel you just enough to be on his radar, but not enough to actually feel anything where he was growing to need it the most.
âLoveâŠâ he groaned. âDonât tease.â
You laughed in your throat sweetly. Then pressed a kiss to his cheek. âOkay.â
You climbed into his lap, swinging one leg over his thighs and boxing him in. He looked up at you, surprised but waiting for your next move. Your hands were on his shoulders, the warmth of them matching your hands as they slid down his torso. Your knuckles caught the swells of his pecs, the brush of one against his nipple earning you a hitch in his breath. They bumped against the ridges separating the abs you were admiring earlier, and you allowed yourself a final few seconds of staring before they suddenly rose up to hold his arms down. Right at his biceps.
You pressed your body into him, sliding down until your face was rested against his abs. You pressed your cheek into the muscle and smiled up at him in cheeky warning before kissing his abs.Â
All around, not one area of the skin and muscle underneath was left untouched by your lips. Fuma remained quiet, a faux sign of composure, because he was losing his mind. Watching you worship his abs like this, the view of your head against his front and your soft lips against the sensitive skin. It did something to him he didnât realise heâd never felt before. It was like when you gave him a blowjob. On your knees, his dick in your mouth, switching between focus on his dick and looking half-lidded into his eyes like you were drunk on the taste of his dick and the pleasure it gave him. But less so. Less sensation that still made his mind go fuzzy and electric at the same time. A frayed wire, rather than a live one.Â
And then you started sucking.Â
You caught whatever skin of his abs you could between your teeth. And sucked. Rhythmic passes of softly biting the skin between your teeth and sucking on it. The wet feeling of your mouth on the sensitive skin made Fuma moan, spurring you further. One hickey after another. You were insatiable, needing your boyfriendâs abs in your mouth and making sure the purple and red marks you were sucking into them ensured no other woman was seeing them for at least a week. No fan was getting their Fuma fix for the time being. No, this man was all yours. You were the lucky one and only.Â
You stopped for a few seconds, sitting yourself down on your knees on the floor, your hands pressed on his inner thighs to keep him from closing his legs in sheer sensitivity. Then continued your painting on his skin. With every pulse of your mouth and teeth it made him harder, his cock noticeably pressed against the drawstring of his thin pants. He groaned at a particularly hard bite, looking down at you as you looked up. Your doe-eyed gaze wouldâve been innocent had you not still had his abs in your mouth, and the cheeky wink you gave him made another moan leave him. He was sweating by now, rivulets perspiring on his skin and pooling in the grooves of his muscles that you more than heartily licked up as you kissed him.
His restraint was leaving him. The sight of you on your knees never failed to get him riled up, but the lack of stimulation to his dick was making him slowly go insane. He didnât know how long he could take rutting his hips into nothing before he simply pulled you off him, wrenched his pants down and stuck his cock down your throat where he could get some relief from the pulsing hardness in his boxers.Â
Thankfully though, you appeared to be on the same wavelength as him. Youâd left an obscene smattering of hickies all along his abdomen. Some were on his abs, some in the grooves between them, others had been deeply more excruciating to handle because theyâd been over his happy trail. Your lips left his skin, puffy and bruised a deep shade of red, and you looked up at him with a horny half-lidded gaze as you rubbed his thighs.Â
âDo it or Iâm going to do it for you.â Fuma struggled to speak between groans, his patience a thread away from snapping.
You stopped for a few seconds while pretending to ponder his warning. Then grinned. You passed a hand over the swell of his crotch, the fabric bulging outwards from the size of his dick. He groaned when you took it out of his boxers, hissing at the sudden cold air on his dick despite the atmosphere being so heated. His whole body was sweating under your touch now, giving a sheen to his skin and dampening his hairline.Â
His cock twitched in your hand as he breathed heavily. He was almost shaking with anticipation of your wet mouth on his cock.Â
