#PLEASE PLEASE LET ME TIE YOU UP WITH THEM

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, reference to suicide and Lloyd being offensive, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Migraines always leave you a bit foggy. Like a hangover, or even a concussion. You power through the airport, waiting in line with your mustachioed curse. Lloyd taps his toe incessantly, adding to the plethora of overstimulation all around you. This isn’t how you envisioned your holidays.  

It’s the 26th and you’re supposed to be on your way home, not catching the flight you booked for two days before. And alone. You’re supposed to be alone. 

You take your boarding pass and leave Lloyd’s for him to grab himself. He huffs and follows after you. He’s like a big dumb dog sometimes. It’s amazing that the realization only comes over you then. It’s pretty obvious when he’s not behind a desk growling like some mafioso. He’s no kingpin, he’s a clown. 

You drop into a seat, your carry-on beside you, and he claims the seat to your left. He’s on the edge, jiggling his leg. You could thank him for upgrading you both to first class but he’s the reason you’re even there. It’s the least he could do. 

You cross your arms and stare through the haze. The first-class lounge is quiet and softly lit. Isolated but for the pest next to you. He continues to fidget. Is he nervous? You didn’t think that was possible since he seems to lack any degree of self-awareness. 

“So, gimme the down low. You got a mom? Girl like you screams daddy issues. Is he still around?” 

You sigh. “Sure is.” 

“Wow, okay. Good guy? Strict? Shit, knowing you, he must be a hard ass,” he scoffs. “Should I put on my best behaviour? Should I have worn a tie, Pixie pie?” He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck. 

“What you can do is hush,” you retort. “Jesus, I’m tryna get my head together.” 

“Last night was wild,” he agrees, though it’s not the point you were making, nor a statement of fact. “We were so close, Pix. You shoulda just laid back and let the magic hands do their tricks. Promise,” he smooths his mustache, “this isn’t just for show. I’ve been told it adds a lot of sensation--” 

“Ew. Would you—if you even say any of that in front of my family--” 

“You gonna spank me?” He asks brightly and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of your chair. 

“Please. I have to at least make this believable and you’re not making it any easier,” you snarl. 

“Are you serious? Our chemistry is like if Einstein banged a beaker--” 

“Einstein was a physicist--” 

“Science is science, baby. All I know is there’s something here and the sooner you accept it, the harder I’ll-- I mean the easier this will be.” 

You look at him dully. All those years you spent bending over backward for him. Behind the mask, he’s a cretin. You always had a suspicion but he was never your creep to deal with. 

“How do you do that?” He asks. 

You grumble and shake your head, turning your glare to the flat screen across from you. 

“How the hell do you skin a man with your eyes? It’s bone tingling and boner-inducing, but damn, it’s something else,” he shifts in his chair noticeably, “you’re gonna make me fly all the way to Canada at half-mast?” 

“You can book a seat across the plane from me if you’re going to keep on,” you warn him. “I’m really not in the mood. We have a deal. I’ll do my part. Pretend, nothing more, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself and give me my money.” 

“I got it, baby. I’m a businessman,” he turns straight and plants his feet wide. “I make deals every day. You’ll get yours.” 

“I want an advance--” 

“An advance? What the hell do you mean? I paid for first-class. Elite,” he punctuates with his finger. “Advance, my juicy ass.” 

“Ten. In my account. Before take-off.” 

“Pfft, you don’t trust me?” 

“No, I don’t,” you affirm. “More so, you owe me. I defaulted on the refund on the flight you made me miss. Oh, and I didn’t get to see my family. On Christmas.” 

“Jeez, well you don’t seem that happy to,” he accuses. 

“Money, now.” 

“Fine, but I get one titty grab--” 

“You get nothing. Mon-ey.” You rub your fingers together. 

He huffs and leans forward as he takes his phone out. He rolls his eyes and taps around on the screen. He takes a deep breath then pushes down. He shows you the screen. “Go ahead and check. You got your blood money.” 

“This is your idea,” you retort. 

“It is my idea but you’re rejecting all my other ones. Like, you know, a sexy massage with a happy ending...” 

“You’re going to give me another headache.” 

“I’ll take it. At least I make you feel something.” He shrugs. 

You shake your head at nothing and check your phone. You can never be too careful with him. Sharing a room has more than proven that. 

🎁

You put the in-flight earbuds in and resign yourself to the hours ahead of you, trapped in a flying canister, next to this incessant man-child. He really brings out the bitch in you. That irritates you even more. You could do anything before without much thought at all; you just got through but Lloyd makes everything a task. 

You close your eyes as the video babbles on. It’s a new release, but those are all remakes and sequels without any real interest. The altitude does little for the shadow of achiness that lingers in the base of your skull. One wrong move and you’ll reawaken your migraine. 

The steady thrum of air around the plane lulls you in a stupor. Just enough for you to stop caring but not deep enough for sleep. You let your head fall toward the window and sink into the numb daze. 

A small tickle makes you shift. You think nothing of it. It’s so small, it could be nothing. Then the sensation travels down to your knee and back up your thigh. You smack Lloyd’s hand before he can repeat the action. 

“Quit,” you hiss. 

He spreads his hand and curls his fingers into your tender flesh. You squeak and open your eyes, clasping onto his wrist as he needs. It’s as if he pinching your nerves. 

“Ow, oh, stop--” you protest. 

“Come on, baby,” he leans over and winks. “Just let me pet the kitty. It’ll help you relax.” 

“How many times can I tell you the same thing--” 

“Just like a dog, you need to be repetitive. Conditioning or whatever,” he purrs. 

You glance past him at the low wall blocking out your seats from the sight of the other pods in first class. You clutch his two middle fingers and squeeze. You bend them back until he grunts and recoils. 

“You touching me isn’t going to make me relax--” 

“Never know if you don’t try,” he wiggles his brows. 

“Trust me, I know.” 

“I’m sure your family don’t need you in a pissy mood. I’m doing it for them, Pixie.” 

“Can I ask you something?” You narrow your eyes, “does the begging usually work?” 

He snorts. He shakes his head and sits back, raising his palms, “you will be flattered to know I don’t usually beg.” He leans against the seat and rests his head on the cushion. “When I tell a girl to hike her skirt up, she just does it. All of them but you.” He clucks and rolls his eyes. “You know that pretty blond from Pristine? Yeah, whenever she comes around, I got her bent over the desk. Thought you’d catch on, she’s not very quiet.” 

You won’t grace him with an excuse. You don’t need one. You’re usually busy, minding your own business, running his errands. You never cared about his office flings. 

“Maybe you should’ve asked her to meet your family,” you suggest. 

“Kidding me? She never shuts up. I gotta stuff my tie in her mouth. Usually why I turn her around--” 

“Lloyd,” you snap. 

“Jealous?” He smirks and you stare back blankly. “You know what? Gotta admit, you surprised me, Pixie Pie. Always quiet in the office, scurrying around like a little mouse. I figured you’d be good because you’d keep the yapper shut. Turns out, you know how to cut deep.” He pushes his shoulders wide and settles. “Never saw mom like that. Or Lillian. Yeah, that was good. You really got her.” 

He snickers and flutters his fingers menacingly. You yawn and look at the small screen. You don’t know what’s going on in the movie. What you do know is that Lloyd Hansen has more issues than one person can solve and you’re not there for anything but business. This is work. You’re getting your money and you’re moving on. 

🎁

Landing is usually a relief. You’re always happy to be on solid ground but it feels shaky as you walk off with your travel companion. The bounce in Lloyd’s step concerns you. He’s much too eager for this. 

He grabs his bags from the carousel, yours too before you can even approach. He loads them all onto a car and steers it around the airport. He’s whistling as you get through the terminal and head for the front doors. As you step outside, he chatters and stops short. 

“Holy grizzly dick, it’s freezing here,” he puffs a cloud of steam as his nose tints pink. 

“There’s not much more snow here than back in the States.” 

“Nah, it’s fucking frigid. Should’ve known,” he shivers and tucks his chin down. You make note of his snipe but don’t acknowledge it. “You maple drinkers drive on the same side of the road?” You glare at him and he winces as he meets your eyes. You’ve booked him trips to Vancouver several times. “Kidding. Obviously. That whole polite stereotype is bullshit, huh, Pix.” 

You ignore him and hail a cab. You just want to be still. The last few days, you’ve been upended. The long drive, his family, the hotel, then a plane ride on top of it all. You’re ready to just stop. 

He wheels the cart around to the trunk and leaves it to the driver to load. You want to admonish him but you’re over the argument. You know you’re going to need your energy. You get in and he climbs in with you.  

He blows into his hands then rubs his cheek. “Santa dropped a load on this place, huh?” He unzips his coat and reaches under it. He fishes around the inside pocket and slips out a pair of glasses. You furrow your nose. You’ve never seen him wear glasses. 

“Where did you get those?” 

“Hipster boy in coach. Snagged them when I hit the restroom,” he explains and pops them on, leaning against you as he cranes to see his reflection in the rear-view mirror. 

“You stole glasses?” 

“Borrowed,” he insists then turns to you. “What’d ya think? Am I the perfect good boy for mom and pop?” 

“You think glasses are gonna do something?” 

“We talked about this, we gotta be convincing, sweetheart. I gotta be a man that sweet lil Pixie would go for.” He adjusts the glasses. “I read Hemingway and have a degree in Social Justice.” 

“Shut--” you catch yourself and sniff. “I don’t even like Hemingway.” 

“Jane Austen? Really? A romantic?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“I’d say. We have to at least pretend we can stand each other. Not just...” he looks down at his lap, “stand for each other.” 

“Ugh, well, start with cutting out those nasty remarks. Second, try, uh, taking care of...” you gesture over your lip, “this.” 

He blinks and his brows draw together. He touches his upper lip, “my mustache?” His eyes widen behind the lenses. “Um, this is style, honey.” 

You scrunch your lips as you try not to laugh. He really believes that. You shrug as the driver gets in. He crosses his arms. 

“Whatever. Judge me but don’t just the stache,” he snips. “So, you gotta tell me. Favourite book.” 

“Do I?” 

“Well, we’re ‘engaged’ so I think I should know,” he argues. 

You watch through the windshield as the taxi follows the airport traffic to the street, “The Bell Jar. If I have to choose one.” 

“Oooh, Plath. How... depressing. But I knew it, you’re a reader, Pixie. Bet you like to sink into a hot tub and get cozy with a good novel. You get the kinky one, let the hand wander below the surface--” 

You elbow him and he cackles. “Alright, sorry. I just—a man’s used to eating daily.” 

“Maybe a diet will do you well,” you retort. 

“Cheat day will come soon enough,” he says. “I’ll do my best to keep my pants on, just don’t go putting your head in any ovens.” 

“You’re awful,” you exclaim. “That’s awful.” 

“Alright,” he combs his hair back, “gonna be a good boy. Promise.” 

“You can take the glasses off.” 

“I kinda like ‘em,” he grins and pinches the arms. 

You make a face but say nothing. The city passes by and your eyes gloss over the familiar sights. The taxi drops you at the rental place and you pull up the booking. There’s at least an hour before you get outside Toronto, then another to your mom’s place. You take the keys and jingle them at Lloyd. 

“Wanna drive?” You ask. 

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” he says. 

“Right.” 

“Besides, Pixie, you got control issues.” 

“Me?” You scoff. “Sure.” 

“Oh, you do,” he assures you as you cross the lot to the rental. “Once you give in to them, you’ll be a lot happier and I'll be your perfect sub.” 

You pop the trunk and tut as you approach the driver’s side, “get the bags in the car, would ya?” 

[writerpeach]

everybody has preferences. which idols would you go rough on (pounding them senselessly till they lay there as a heavily breathing, cum pumped mess)? which idols would you let absolutely dominate you (tie you up, edge you until your balls explode with just the slightest breath) ?

Somi - perfect tits, perfect body, perfect face, explore it all night with those tits bouncing the entire time

Chaewon - the definition of fuckdoll, mating press, then anal over and over and over

Sakura - kkura can use me however she pleases, tie me up like a christmas present

JiU - the mommiest mommy to ever mommy

(annyeongz are too obvious but they apply to both categories)

[sinnabarmoth]

Feeling Better

Pairing: Xavier x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes. But this one is a little sexual.)

Content warnings: Handjob.

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Sylus) (Zayne)

When Xavier came back from his mission you were over the moon. He had been gone for an entire week in a dangerous area fighting Wanderers. But now he was back! You had decided to go pick him up from the airport and treat him to hotpot. It wasn’t until you saw him that you realized that he had kept something major from you when he said he was coming home.

“Hey, thanks for coming to pick me up--”

“Why in the world is your arm in a sling?” you asked. “What happened?”

“Oh…I fractured it while fighting Wanderers. But it’s okay. The doctor said I’ll be fine in no time.”

“And how long is no time?”

“Four to six weeks…” he said sheepishly.

“Xavier! Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me you broke your arm?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“So what? You were just going to hide it for a month and a half? I’m your girlfriend, you’re supposed to tell me these things.” you sighed. Careful to mind his arm you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re home and you’re safe. But now I have to change my welcome home plans.”

“You don’t need to--”

“I don’t see how I’m going to be able to tie you up if your arm is in a sling. Although…I guess that is a kind of restraint. Nevermind. Best not to test it. Let’s just go get hotpot.”

“Tie me up?” his face went red. “I can’t believe you just said that in the middle of the airport.”

“I’ve said worse in public before and you know it.” you grabbed his suitcase and looped your arm around his waist. “Let’s get going. I’m starving and I know you have to be too.”

After hotpot you returned home. You grabbed the dirty clothes out of his luggage and threw them in the laundry. He told you that you didn’t need to unpack his stuff but you were being insistent. “Let me dote on you. I haven’t seen you in a week and you’re injured. Let me take care of you, okay?”

His face started turning red again. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

“Good boy.” you kissed his cheek.

You passed the evening watching movies but as evening fell it became increasingly obvious how limited Xavier was with his broken arm. That became obvious when he said he wanted to take a shower. The hospital had given him a waterproof sleeve to put over his cast but that still basically left him one arm short. It also wasn’t helping with getting undressed.

“Are you going to keep struggling in here or are you going to admit you need my help?” you cocked your head at him from the bathroom doorway.

He sighed, his shirt stuck halfway off him. “Yes, please.”

“Was that so hard?” you went over and helped yank the shirt up over his head. “Seriously, how’d you even get dressed if getting undressed is this hard?”

“I don’t know--hey! What are you doing?” he flummoxed as you started pulling his pants down.

“Helping you undress, remember?”

“I can do that part myself.”

“I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up about. It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked before.” you giggled. “But I do like seeing you flustered. It’s so cute.”

“I--” he stepped out of his pants and turned on the shower. You rolled your eyes and started disrobing too. “What are you doing now?”

“I was thinking I was going to shower with you, help get you clean since you’re one arm short.” you said, stepping in next to him. “Why? Something wrong?”

“I just…” he glanced down. Between your bodies Xavier’s dick was already at half-mast. “You mentioned tying me up earlier and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But then you said we weren’t going to do anything cause my arm was broken so I was just planning on coming in here and getting rid of it myself.”

“Oh Xavier,” you turned his face to yours and kissed him. “Just because I can’t tie you up doesn’t mean we can’t do other things. I said I was going to take care of you today, remember?”

You gently took him in your hand, stroking your hand up and down and fondling his balls until he was rock hard. You pressed him against the shower wall so he had some support. He panted as you worked him over, his free hand grabbing you tightly by the hip.

“You worked so hard all week and then got badly injured. You deserve to be taken care of today and every day.” you pulled him down closer to kiss him. “Just relax and let me take care of you, baby. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” his brow furrowed as he tried to fight off coming too soon. “I’ll repay your actions, I promise.”

“I know you will, Xavier. But don’t think about that right now.” you pumped him faster. His moans grew louder until he was bucking into your hand. “Just feel good. I want you to be so good for me and come. Go on, I know you want to. Come for me.”

“I--I--” his head tipped back, exposing his pale throat to you. You kissed up his neck, pressing your body against his like you knew he enjoyed. You bit down on his chest and his cock twitched in your grasp as he came with a long moan. You kept pumping him until every drop had been emptied and his legs trembled to support his weight.

“Oh my sweet boy, you were really pent up, huh?” you grinned. “Feel better?”

“Yeah…” he took in deep breaths. “Much better.”

“Good. Cause we still need to get you cleaned up. Take your time to catch your breath, I’ll grab the shampoo.” you turned to grab the shampoo but Xavier kept a hold of you. “Something wrong?”

“Stay close a little longer.” he said, pulling you towards him. “Please.”

“Of course.” you hugged him, the spray of the water raining down on both of you as you simply embraced. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too.” he said. “I’m glad you’re here to help me. In the past I had to deal with this stuff on my own so having a helping hand is nice.”

“I’ll always be here when you need me, Xavier.” you kissed the bite mark on his chest. “No matter what it is you need me for, I’ll be here.”

[eempyreall]

♪ 444 𝑏𝑦 𝐴𝑠ℎ𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑛𝑎 ♪

༺༺ Devour ༻༻

Oneshot ~ Bonten x Female Reader

Summary ~ You are devastated to learn that your soulmates are power-hungry monsters entrenched in an illegal industry. Despite knowing they only seek to consume your life source, no matter how fast you run, you can never escape fate.

Featuring ~ Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kokonoi Hajime, Kakucho, and the Haitani Brothers

Extra Notes: *Slight Language Barrier

*I didn’t mean to make this story as angsty as it is

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Your breathing is ragged as the platform of your shoes slam against the pavement. Liquid runs down your face as rain pours from the nightly firmament. You rub your eyes to clear the drops of water from your eyelashes so you can continue making your way through the crowd.

You’ve finally escaped your prison with nothing but the clothes on your back. You have no clue what to do other than run through this foreign city.

It was supposed to be a normal trip. An impulsive decision on your part. You decided to stay in Japan for a week just to take a break from your work life back home. Truly, you had grown bored of your everyday routine and decided to up and leave.

Your friend reprimanded you out of love, knowing you tend to act impulsive despite your overthinking tendencies. You ignored the small voice in the back of your mind and said, “Fuck it,” before buying your ticket, packing your bags, and disappearing.

What you hadn’t expected was to finally meet your soulmates.

It was a beautiful night in Tokyo. The lights of the city shimmered as busy people—tourists and natives alike—walked the streets. You strolled alone, leaving a random bar as you made your way through the crowd.

Suddenly, you feel a pull in your chest, eyes locking on the red ribbon that protrudes from the middle of your chest. You watch in awe as it spreads out in front of you, the soul tie flying through the air before splitting into seven strands.

“Seven?!” you breathe out in disbelief. You can’t fathom finding one soulmate, let alone seven.

You spent years bitter and lonely when you couldn’t find them. It was a normal occurrence to find your soulmate on your eighteenth birthday, as everyone else did in your town. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen for you.

Considering you never even felt a slight pull from your chest, it was concerning. You thought that maybe your mate had died tragically, or perhaps you were one of the unlucky individuals who could never find your mate.

You spent many nights crying yourself to sleep, as this occurrence was seen as something very tragic. You wanted to be loved. You wanted to be cared for, and you were tired of the loneliness consuming you. So when you finally felt the pull and saw the ties in a foreign setting, you didn’t hesitate to follow where they led you.

“God, I’m so stupid!” you exclaim as you recall the memory. The months you wasted being nothing but a fucking energy source caused tears to mix with the raindrops on your cheeks.

You feel broken and used. You never knew how awful your soulmates could make you feel. You should’ve known when you figured out who they were—what they stand for and their tainted morals.

“I—is this the real reason why you all accepted me? Am I truly nothing but a pawn to bring you more power?”

Your heart ached, your stomach heavy as you felt nausea build in the back of your throat at the statement Kokonoi just told you. You bring your fingers to your mouth, biting your nails as you await his response, your eyebrows furrowed.

“You are fulfilling an important role for Bonten. You can never leave.”

Your eyes widened as the platinum-haired male kept his arms behind his back, intently eyeing you with an unreadable gaze. You glare at him with anger as you step forward, his office lamp shining the only light into the dark room.

“It all makes sense now. Whenever I gave myself to any of you, I always felt pure weakness after. For days I couldn’t move after you took from me, and yet somehow you all were stronger than ever. You never even bothered to replenish me. You lied. You all lied to me!”

You fight the tears threatening to fall as you feel your face heat up with anger. The cold look Koko gives you really hurts. Where was the man with the content smile who asked you to give him a show when he had you try on new outfits? Where was the man who was a romantic? Had you really been deceived all this time?

“We did what we had to do. In order to receive your life source to the fullest, you must be happy with the circumstances, so we made you comfortable,” he said with impatience in his tone, stepping closer to you.

“You say it like it’s some sort of transaction,” you respond, disgust prominent in your expression and tone. You look at him with wide eyes, a scowl fixed on your face.

“It has always been a transaction, Y/n.”

You continue to run to nowhere, passing by citizens as you shove them out of your way, apologizing swiftly in the process. You knew that you had to at least find a place with a phone.

“I’ve been here for a while, Rin. Don’t you think I should learn more Japanese instead of you guys being my personal translators?”

The purple, mullet-haired man wraps an arm around your waist as he keeps you pinned to his lap, the rest of your legs lying on the seat of the sofa as he leans back in his seat. He ignored you while his lips grazed your neck, sucking the skin as he fed from you, the soul tie wrapped around your figures.

“Rin!” you exclaim as you try to catch his attention, pulling back from him slightly as he sighed, giving you a lazy smirk.

“You don’t need to learn any language. T’s not like you’re around anyone else anyway,” he responds before his hand meets the back of your head, forcing you into a heated kiss as you feel the drain of your energy. You obliged as you weakly kissed back, pathetically yearning for the touch as he was rarely affectionate aside from feeding. The soul tie tightens as the kiss deepens.

You grab your own scalp at the unwarranted flashback. God, you felt so stupid. It had been right in front of you the whole time and yet you missed it. Then again, maybe you hadn’t really missed anything at all. You just ignored that familiar voice in the back of your head. You blamed the unsettling feeling in your stomach on your own nerves and insecurity.

“I don’t want to see this shit anymore!” you scream at Sanzu, shoving his chest as you turn away from the limp body in front of you.

He snatches your wrists, pulling you closer to his chest with the maniacal grin growing on his expression. His enlarged pupils almost replace the blue in his irises.

“Yer gonna fucking kill him, Y/n.”

You preferred when Sanzu was sober.

Although he was still sadistic, he seemed much calmer and more collected. He was especially gentler when feeding from you in the bedroom, despite his erratic and rough behavior when he was high.

"No, I'm not! Let me go, you fucking asshole!" you yell, yanking your arms from his grip, only for him to twist you around and force you to face the kneeling man who was barely conscious.

You glare at the deep lacerations and bruises on the man’s skin as Sanzu forces you to hold the gun. His fingers are wrapped around your trembling hand as he aims the weapon at the male’s head.

Before you can react, he forces your finger to pull the trigger with his own. Your body jolts at the loud noise as the blood from the man splatters on your own legs. You begin to hyperventilate while eyeing the dead human, something you’ve never seen before.

The way the pieces of brain and blood have splattered on the floor — the way the man’s head dropped and his body limped. The dullness of his open eyes. The bullet split his skull open, the skin no longer concealing what’s beneath. His face was almost unrecognizable, split open in the top middle of his features.

Once Sanzu released his grip, you dropped to the floor, body shivering as the hairs on your arms stood straight. You couldn’t stop staring at the bloodied corpse in front of you. The smell made you sick.

Arms hugged you from behind as legs trapped you from both sides of your body.

“You killed that man in cold blood,” he chuckled, lips meeting your neck to begin sucking your energy. The red ribbon forms around both of your figures, locking you in place.

You finally reach a structure that looks inviting, with its lack of people and a bright light.

You rush to the entrance, pushing the door open swiftly. A black-haired man eyes you with concern, his hand gripping a broom.

“I need help!” The man seems to understand your distorted Japanese as he nods before walking toward you.

The palms of your hands cover your eyes as tears smear against your cheeks. Kakucho strokes the middle of your back as you both sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m tired of being trapped in here, Kakucho! I just feel like this is some sort of trick or something. Do mates really act like this over here? Everything is so much different back home. I feel like a prisoner who’s used for labor here. I can barely feel my arms and legs at times.”

He pulls you closer, causing you to straddle his thighs as he wraps his arms around your waist. You continue to cry on his shoulder before his hands rub up your torso, slightly pulling you back so you’d make eye contact.

“I want you to know that you’re important to us. Without you, we’d be weaker. We need you, Y/n,” he says before pulling you into a kiss, the soul tie returning as it traps you both together.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words. Although they were meant to sound sweet, there seemed to be a hidden meaning—or… was it really that hidden?

“I need a phone!” you exclaim, pointing at the device lying near the register. “I need to call someone! Please!”

He nods before handing you the phone.

“Thank you!” you respond before walking to the back of the store, erratically dialing your friend’s number.

“F—F/n! I need your help!”

You hadn’t been able to contact her for months, considering you weren’t allowed a phone. They told you it was because they couldn’t afford any leaks to their whereabouts, considering what they do for work.

“Y/n? Hey! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I found my soulmates! But I’m in trouble! They aren’t who I thought they’d be, and they’ve been holding me captive for months! I—I need you to get me out of here! I have nothing! Please!”

You felt bad for bringing her into this, but you had nothing. No money, no phone, not even an extra pair of clothes. You didn’t have time to grab anything. You had to leave immediately or else you might have ended up killed.

After you stole Ran’s gun when he fell asleep, you immediately rushed to the guard who would be taking you to Mikey’s headquarters, contemplating your next move as you sat in the back seat. They hadn’t noticed the gun in your back pocket nor when you slowly pulled it out while eyeing the rearview mirror. Before they could even begin driving, you shot both men who sat in the front of the car, killing them accidentally considering you had a bad aim. You hadn’t had time to think about the fact you had just murdered two people.

“Y/n,” the voice sings behind you.

You freeze in your spot, eyes widened as your friend calls your name. Slowly, you turn to see Kazutora standing there, a grin on his face. You shakily snatch the gun from your pocket and aim it at his torso.

“Stay away from me,” you hiss with a mix of anger and fear. You watch as the soul tie forms, connecting both of your chests, the red ribbon stretching in the space between you.

“Aww, are ya really gonna shoot me? That’s not very nice,” he chuckles with mock disappointment.

At that moment, you realize that you can’t shoot him.

Why don’t they ever say it back?

The lump in your throat burns as you drop the phone, staring at Kazutora with a crazed look on your face. His grin shifts into a frown as he watches your movements with caution, the ribbon vanishing.

Is this all I’m ever good for?

“Put the gun down, Y/n,” he says calmly.

You scream, your throat gurgling with blood as you try to snatch the scissors back from Ran’s grip, the bathroom floor covered in red as he forces you on your back.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” His smooth voice is filled with unease.

You tried to cut the soul ties by stabbing your own chest. You don’t know how you survived but the medic must’ve arrived in time, rushing you to Bonten’s underground hospital.

“I don’t want to go back,” your voice breaks as your breathing becomes erratic, bringing the gun to your head.

Your eyes shut tightly with your teeth clenching.

Why can’t you just let me go?

Before you can pull the trigger, a hand roughly knocks the gun out of your grasp before yanking you from behind. A hand on your jaw forces you to face them, your teary eyes fully exposed.

Your eyes widen at the crazed look Sanzu gives you, his grip on your jaw tightening roughly as you feel his hand tremble slightly.

Neither of you says a word as he glares down at you before roughly releasing you and snatching your wrist.

Before you can begin to struggle against his grip, a syringe is gently pressed into the skin of your neck. Your shocked gaze shifts to Kokonoi, who simply gives you a disappointed look before darkness engulfs your vision.

"If you try that again, I'll keep you chained to my bed for as long as you live," Mikey warns while you lie barely conscious on your bed.

You stare back into his dark eyes before he lowers himself, his lips pressing against your forehead.

[mvrlqni]

in ho protecting fem¡reader when she gets attacked during the fights that break out at night?

IN YOUR ARMS

pairing — hwang in-ho/young-il x reader

synopsis — when screams and people being murdered during the night could be heard, in-ho finds himself staying close, protecting you from other players, especially from one who has constantly been nagging at you.

warnings — blood, violence, murder, swearing, age gap, 20’s reader, 40’s in-ho, spoilers for s2, ooc!in-ho, soft!in-ho, obsessive!in-ho, might have mistakes

wc — 1.5k

AN — made him a tad bit obsessive bc he’s hot

from the very moment in-ho had laid his eyes on you, he was taken aback. you seemed so delicate, pure, and everything just seemed good about you.

and that was when he promised himself he would look after you.

he would allow himself to get distracted by you, his sole purpose was to find out gi-hun’s plans but he would always manage to find ways to include you. especially in conversations that didn’t even relate to you.

yes, he knew it was unprofessional of him, favouriting a player when the games were supposed to be fair and equal but he can’t help himself when he would mouth off to the guards to give you extra food, he even had them pack you your favourite meal after he found out what it was the night before.

in-ho was becoming obsessed with you and he let it happen.

that night after another voting had been done which ended in a tie, a fight had broken out between the two sides. men came out from the bathroom with blood coating some of their tracksuits and in-ho watched as your eyebrows furrowed, that look you did that had him weak in the knees, making you look as if you were a kicked-aside puppy.

soon both teams were gathered on their own sides, the both of them counting down how many players they have.

“two out of five. that means they lost three people.” a girl informed you all, whilst another—player 380 spoke up.

“then we have a better shot at winning the vote tomorrow.”

“hey, it’s 48 against 47.” jung-bae whispered. “as long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote!” he exclaimed and everyone around you agreed quietly.

you glanced towards in-ho, or as you knew as ‘young-il’, and whispered to him, a smile plastered onto your face. “hey, we’ll be going home tomorrow…aren’t you excited?”

young-il snapped out of his gaze and looked back at you. there was silence before he smiled back and nodded. truthfully, in-ho couldn’t imagine letting you go, he would find you either way.

the PA voice spoke up along with the sound of a school-like bell ringing. “attention, please. lights out in 30 minutes. all players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”

after a few more words with everyone on your side, you all separated from each other. however, as the other group separated too, you could see them staring back at you all as they walked, gi-hun having noticed this as well.

you shivered and felt as your body slowly began feeling uncomfortable, but your hand was soon grabbed by young-il as he offered you a reassuring smile and walked with you.

before bedtime, you were sitting with your group as usual. “those bastards are acting suspicious. it’s like they’re up to something.” dae-ho began and you quickly nodded in agreement.

“right? they were staring at us the whole time when they walked past, gave me the shivers…” you mumbled as young-il patted your shoulder while jung-bae scoffed.

“whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it’ll all be over.”

“you think we’ll be okay? they say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier.”

you looked down and fiddled with your fingers before looking back up to gi-hun when he spoke. “once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us.”

in-ho watched as you did that face again. his heart thumping in his chest as he did, completely ignoring everyone else as they spoke.

“really?”

gi-hun nodded. “because if they kill us, they’ll be able to win the vote and increase the prize.”

“so what do we do?”

in-ho focused back on the conversation, shifting slightly before voicing his thoughts. “let’s attack them first. they’re probably thinking we’ll just wait for the second vote. we can use it to our advantage. we’ll attack them first once the lights go out.”

“that’s right. it’d be better to attack them first. we have more women and elderly on our side, if we get attacked we’ll be at a disadvantage. attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning.” 049 began with a player agreeing before gi-hun interrupted.

“we can’t do that.”

in-ho feigned confusion and stared at gi-hun. “but we have to get out of here. you said it yourself, saying calm won’t get us anywhere now.”

“that doesn’t mean we should kill each other. that’s exactly what they want us to do.”

furrowing your brows again, you leaned in a bit and looked at gi-hun with that confused look of yours. ““they?””

“those who created this game. those who watch us play. if we’re going to fight someone, it should be them.” he explained.

“where are they?”

gi-hun looked up causing the other players and you to do the same, except for in-ho. “up there.” he looked back at in-ho and continued. “on the upper levels are the rooms they control the games from. the man in the black mask is their leader. once we capture him, we’ll be able to win.”

in-ho pressed on, finally hearing gi-hun’s plans. “how are we going to fight them? they have guns.”

“we’ll fight them with guns too.”

“…um, but we don’t have any, mr gi-hun…”

gi-hun glanced at you and nodded. “we’ll take their guns.”

“from the masked men?”

gi-hun nodded again at the other player as in-ho spoke once again. “that’s too dangerous. even if we manage to take a few guns, we’ll still be outnumbered.”

“what then?” gi-hun retorted looking around at everyone whilst he continued. “are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? is that what you want, young-il?”

the two stared each other down before their attention was put onto hyun-ju. “do we…stand a chance?”

“we do if we catch them off guard. out of everyone, they’re the ones who would at least expect us to attack first.” you nodded along and listened. “this is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”

“how are you going to take their guns?”

you couldn’t help but think how serious young-il seemed, almost as if he was interrogating gi-hun.

“once the fight begins tonight, we’ll have our chance.”

“lights out in five minutes.”

a lullaby began playing from the speakers as the timer ticked, counting down the five minutes.

as soon as the lights turned off, young-il had taken your hand and got you underneath the bed.

screams erupted from your side and you flinched, staying close to young-il while covering your eyes.

it was dark and the screams didn’t help along with the sounds of people getting stabbed, a small whimper left you and young-il gently shushed you.

unbeknownst to both of you, a man who had been constantly harassing you as his way of ‘flirting’ noticed you underneath the bed and had dragged you out.

you screamed as a hand wrapped around your throat and tightened itself, the man in question wielding a broken piece of glass.

young-il’s eyes widened as he immediately got out from underneath the bed. “y/n!” he called out, a snarl leaving his lips as he caught sight of the man.

he punched the man and shoved him away, causing the man to let go of your neck and groan.

you breathed heavily and looked at young-il, watching as he managed to kick the man against the bunk beds.

“you fucking bastard!” the man exclaimed, getting up and charging at young-il with the shard of glass. he only managed to graze young-il with it before being pushed back again, young-il’s grip on the man’s hand was tight as he pushed the glass away from his face and out the players hand.

disarming the player, young-il swiftly bought the man back down, smashing the players head against the bunk bed frames as he did, repeating the same thing.

you looked away as you heard the man’s skull crack, a small groan leaving you before you looked back. “young-il, that’s enough!—”

young-il was completely focused on killing the man, he was already dead by this point but he was fuming with rage seeing the man’s hands wrapped around your neck.

only after a few seconds did young-il stop, dropping the man’s dead body on the ground, blood quickly pouring from the wound. his head was smashed in and the blood covered young-il’s clothes and face.

he breathed heavily before looking back at you, grabbing your hands and bringing you back underneath the bed. “are you alright?” he asked, concern laced in his voice and you nodded.

despite the fact that you’ve just seen this man kill another you couldn’t help but find him more attractive—he did kill the man for you after all…

young-il let out a sigh of relief and you gently caressed his face, a small cut on his cheek from the glass. “your cheek…”

he blushed lightly before letting out a chuckle, grabbing at your hands again. “i’ll be fine, just a small graze, no?”

hesitantly nodding, you stayed close to young-il, his presence almost making you forget that there were people getting murdered just above you.

he kissed your knuckles and wrapped an arm around you. he’ll never let you get hurt and he’ll kill any bastard who even tries to hurt you.

[millyphobic]

──★ ˙🎀 ̟ !! BOWS & BABES

⌗ after some troubles with your hair, joel lends a hand

jackson!joel x younger!girlfriend!reader

꩜ .ᐟ cw :: bigass age gap (late fifties + late twenties) , passing mentions of spanking because im a freak, reader is kind of a brat because im a freak, reader has that type of hair where it’s not straight but also not curly so it’s just poofy (aka my hair type) because I want to feel better about myself :3

꩜ .ᐟ note :: extremely self indulgent oops ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ and also kinda short but not short enough to be a drabble so this got slapped into a mini fic 😇🎀

“Joel!” Not this shit again. He doesn’t give a response, too busy sitting down on the bed after a long day. Not even five minutes inside and you’re already shouting for him. Let the old man catch a break.

”Joel! My hair’s being a cunt again!”

“Can you not use that word?”

“Cunt! Cunt, cunt, cunt!”

One day, you’re going to end up bald. Or spanked. Depends if he can get his hands on a decent pair of scissors. You emerge from the bathroom with your hair sticking up all nine ways and it takes a lot in him not to snicker at the sight. There’s a busted hair brush in your hand and tears of frustration beading at your waterline and yeah, he shuts the fuck up real fast.

“Oh god,” he sighs and before he knows it, he’s patting the space next to him on the bed. “Come here. Lemme fix that for you.”

Surprisingly, you listen to him for once. You shuffle your way to the bed and lay down next to him on your stomach, face smushed against the mattress. Well, something is something. You’re awfully finicky when it comes to your hair, claiming that it’s destined to always make you look ugly. Which is a crazy statement because hair is literally just hair. It doesn’t take away from your cute smiles and silly nose scrunches. But then again, once upon a dinosaur age, he was just like you. A twenty-something year old who was always stressing about his appearance and whatnot. So he’ll indulge you and fix your problems, no matter how small they may seem.

He takes the poofy strands in his hands and just because, he gives them a little tug, earning a hiss and dirty look from you. “Don’t be a brat. Lift your head up, I’m gonna braid your hair.”

And it’s like Christmas has come early because you listen to him again, raising your head and propping yourself up a bit on your forearms. He shifts his body to face you better and takes a gentle hand to rake his fingers through your hair, tutting at you when he sees the evident sight of breakage. No doubt from the amount of times you’ve mangled your hair with that damn brush.

“Didn’t know you could braid hair.”

Your little mumble breaks him out of his train of thoughts and just hearing the disbelief in your voice makes him chuckle. “You’d be surprised. Now be good and don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry.” His free hand slides to the base of your throat, forcing you a bit more up so he can land a kiss on the top of your head. And there you go, the furrow in your brow disappearing and the tension in your shoulders easing away. Not to be an ass, but Joel finds it amusing how easy it is to keep you happy. All it takes is a few kisses and tender words to unwind you from the fit you got yourself in.

“I don’t know why my hair is like this,” you huff, fiddling some ribbons in your hand. No doubt what you planned to use to tie your hair up. He listens to you ramble as he parts your hair into two sets of three sections. Pigtail braids because they’re cute and you’re cute. Not the most equal sections but it’ll do. Please don’t let me fuck this up is all he can really think of but it’s okay, he’s got this.

“I mean, it’s not pin straight. But it’s not curly either. Just poofy. It’s straight when I get it wet. Sometimes there’s little waves in there when it dries. But it’s so frizzy and gets all knotted so I have to brush it out and then it gets all ruined. I hate this. My hair’s a bitch.”

At least you didn’t say cunt. Makes me wanna laugh when you say that he thinks to himself with a scoff.

All he can really do is click his tongue and sigh as you talk, more focused on making sure he’s criss-crossing your hair right. You’ll forgive him later when he gets this right.

Maybe in another life you could’ve gone to a salon and inquired about your hair type, maybe pick up a product or two to manage the frizz or help form a wave pattern. But with the way things are now, the braids are the best you’re getting.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, sweet pea. But, I’ll be honest with you. There ain’t nothing ugly about your hair. Puffy? Yes. A little tricky to manage? Sure. But it ain’t ugly. You’re not ugly, are you? Of course not, you’re as cute as a button. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Or I’ll fucking make you bald.” He gives the now-completed braids another tug and smiles when you yelp, a satisfied warmth blooming in his chest when he sees you smile back at his antics. That’s his baby, through and through.

“Alright, alright. I’ll shut the fuck up. Here.” You hand him the ribbons and he takes his time wrapping them around the end of your braids, tying them into near bows like how you taught him. He thinks they’re near-perfect too, not to brag. They better be because he didn’t sit still for an hour watching you tie silly bows on his bicep for nothing.

“And there we go!” Joel announces, patting your head as he admires his handiwork. Bows and babes: his favorite. Not bad for an old man. Not bad at all. You roll over to your back and sit up, clambering your way into his lap like you own it. Well, you technically did but damn, at least ask first.

“Hi.”

“Hi, sweet pea. What happened to asking if we can sit in someone’s lap?”

“Shut up.” He really should spank you for that but you press a kiss to his cheek and whatever, he can maybe let that slide for once. You looked too damn adorable in those pigtail braids. Too damn sweet nuzzling your cheek against his, little giggles leaving your lips as his stubble tickles your face. You’re going to be the death of him one day but what a lovely death that would be, to die at the hands of your affection.

“Joel,” you whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Little minx, sending shivers down his spine as you practically purr at him. “Thanks for braiding my hair. I’m sorry for being an ass. Love you!” Another quick kiss, to his lips so fleeting he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attentive. Damn tease. And your nose rubbing against his like you’re some kind of bunny? You’re absolutely going to kill him one day and it’ll be the best day of his life.

“You weren’t an ass, just a bit of brat. And I love you too, sweet pea.”

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Obsession (part 4)

Player 001 x Reader [SMUT]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tw: stalker!In Ho, rape is implied, Dark content.

The sound of the door locking didn’t come, but the lights turned out one by one. In Ho walked around your house, ensuring that you really were sleeping. Your phone light wasn’t on either, you were asleep.

In Ho opened the front door quietly. He shut it behind him and crept through the house silently. He heard the sound of pattering echo the walls. He froze slowly backing up into a darker corner. He saw the cat, a sigh of relief escaping him as they stared at each other.

“Hello, kitty” he crouched to pet him. The cat purred as he rubbed In Ho legs jumping up to reach his knee. Circling through the his parted legs, In Ho stands up. “Take me to Mommy’s room (c/n).” He said as the cat trotted away.

Following silently, In Ho looked at the decor on the walls. He entered your room. Watching you sleep soundly as he towered over you. Watching as you slept. He planted a kiss on your lips. Harsh and vile. Waking you up from your slumber.

“In Ho?” You asked. “What’re you doing here? Get out of my house!”

“Relax, I just wanna sleep with you” he growled. He sat on your torso, ripping his tie off his neck. “Just fucking relax (y/n). I’m not going to hurt you” he began tying your hands up.

“In Ho, I don’t want this.” You said.

“Yes you do. Stop denying me” In Ho said as he ripped the blanket from you, revealing the thong you were wearing. He groaned loudly as his cock raged in his slacks. “I heard you moan for me.”

“Wha- how did you see that video?!” You shout in embarrassment.

“Oh bunny, I saw all of them. Every single one where you begged for me, came for me, told me you were going to cum on my fingers, asked me to fuck that pussy like I was going to die. All of them” he declared evilly.

“In Ho, please” you begged. “Please”

In Ho's fingers plunged into the your pussy, his touch rough and unyielding. He didn't care about your pleasure; all he cared about was asserting his control. You felt a surge of arousal mixed with pain as In Ho's fingers stretched you wide, his fingertips scraping against their walls.

“Oh good girl, so wet for me” he said. “You’re tied up, doing something you apparently don’t want, and here you are, soaking wet and drenching my fingers” you turned your face from him.

He pumped his fingers in and out, his pace relentless as he drove you closer and closer to climax. You felt your body tensing up, your muscles coiling tighter and tighter as you neared release. But just as you were about to tip over the edge, In Ho stopped.

You cried out in frustration, your body trembling with need. "Please, In Ho" you begged, your voice shaking with desperation. "Let me cum."

In Ho just laughed, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "No," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "You don't get to cum yet."

You pleaded with him, begging him to let you release. But In Ho just shook his head, his fingers still buried deep within you but motionless. You felt like you were being torn apart by your own desire, your body screaming for release but denied it by In Ho's merciless touch.

"Maybe later," In Ho said finally, pulling his fingers out of your throbbing pussy and leaving you feeling empty and unsatisfied. "But for now... you're going to have to wait."

Your wrists were bound, the silk fabric digging into your skin as In Ho pulled it tight. You felt a surge of fear mixed with arousal as you realized they were completely at his mercy. And you loved it. In Ho's eyes gleamed with a sadistic intensity as he gazed at you, his chest heaving with excitement.

You felt a jolt of shock as In Ho's fingers dug into your hips, holding them in place. His cock was rock-hard, and he slammed it into you without warning, making you cry out in shock.

The neck tie bit into your skin as you struggled against their bonds, but In Ho just laughed and held you tighter. He pounded into you relentlessly, his thrusts brutal and unforgiving. You felt like you were being torn apart, your body stretched to its limits as In Ho rammed into you again and again.

You came close to climaxing multiple times only to have him pull back at last second leaving you hanging before finally allowing you release after what seemed an eternity you screamed out loud shuddering from head-to-toe feeling utterly spent.

“I’m not done with you yet” he said. You cried loudly from the over stimulation of cumming and still enduring his cock.

In Ho's grip on their hips tightened as he pulled you closer, his cock still buried deep within. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered "you're mine now... I'm going to bury my cum so deep inside you that your only choice is to just take it". You felt a surge of panic mixed with arousal as you realized you were completely at his mercy.

And then it happened - In Ho came inside your belly hot seed spurting deep within making you feel utterly helpless while declaring through gritted teeth "you're going to carry my child... and there's nothing you can do about it". He spoke harshly.

He planted hard kisses on your lips, as tears ran down your face.

“I need more” you begged. “Please give me more. More of you, I need more” you began to cry. “I haven’t had you in 5 years and all I need is you again, like I did in the games”

“Well, you have me, for the rest of our lives.” He spat laying next to you. Stripping his clothes till he was naked.

“I want you inside me” you whispered. “Please” he smiled. His plan worked out perfectly. He couldn’t deny your poor pussy his delicious cock. He laid beside you. Catching his breath.

“Soon, little bunny, soon.” He sighed. “I need to calm down before I can do this again”

Tag list:

@syraxnyra @colorwastaken @vkeyy @christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Scripted Bracket — Round 1

Propaganda

Mari Datuin (Hi Nay):

Shes pan, shes fillipina, she might be God. She talked to the cops without a lawyer, and let them into her home without a lawyer [DONT DO THAT] but she did it for the plot. She’s gorgeous, shes chubby, she loves bubble tea. She was the mediator/ divorce lawyer for a breakup between two of her friends. She has reasonable beef with old people, shes fighting a cult, she is viciously allergic to therapy. Objectively a Character Of All Time. Listen to the podcast if you haven’t.

Fayth Alden (Zero Hours):

A brilliant thief (and world class performance artist) who thoroughly fools a haughty reverend by tricking him into thinking she’s a witch and this is the end times and also tying him to a cross? Incredible, no notes, please also tie me up

[lesdeuxxx]

Men in suspenders are my sexuality

[fumifooms]

My world shattering when I realize that Chilchuck is underweight

Post-canon Chilchuck stops dieting and gains weight real

Edit: I am going to SCREAM

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

(from this video)

[found--family]

cas coming back in any kind of spn reboot is a given, we know this. he'll interact with dean and we might even get dean addressing the confession. and i know jackles will be the driving force behind any reboot but his history with addressing dean's feelings at cons is like a damn yoyo - is2g if dean doesn't reciprocate and destiel doesn't kiss on screen i'm not watching it and it will join the annals of not-canon along with 15x19 and 15x20 and the canon divergence attempt at a fixit that was dean in spnwin. no destiel means spngate 2.0.

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”

﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru

﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban

﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well

GOJO SATORU (3 days)

“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.

"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.

it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.

“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.

RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)

no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.

“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.

one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.

how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.

he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.

KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)

his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.

due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.

"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.

he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.

"seems like i have some things to make up for."

CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)

"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.

"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.

"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.

"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.

TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)

"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.

you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.

"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.

he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.

GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)

you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.

he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.

"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.

"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.

[merakidoll]

armin was the type of friend your boyfriend thought he would never have to worry about. armin was pretty, a pretty boy with pretty feminine features! red puffy cheeks, fat pink lips, doe eyes, and long blond lashes to tie everything in. he liked cropped shirts showing off his bling belly button ring, and abs. he liked tight things that showed his perfect figure, and armin loved having bling on his nails. bows, flowers, hello kitty, with a pretty light pink or blue color.

your boyfriend thought armin was harmless; in fact he thought he knew armin’s sexual orientation well. but was he so wrong, he began to be question why you no longer craved intimacy form him - to which he would be blown off with a simple “i’m busy.” you began to spend more and more time with armin, canceling plans with him to tend to armin but still he thought nothing of it. one night you wouldn’t answer him after yet again, leaving him for armin. he took that as an opportunity to show up. blending in with the darkness as he peeked through your window heart aching at the sight. while he thought armin didn’t like women - he didn’t, he loved them. there you were naked in the plush of your bed, your toes that were light blue in the same man he was so sure he didn’t have to worry about mouth.

he could hear your moans and the words you two shared the window doing nothing to hinder him from the sight. “m-minni please!” you begged. the suction around your toes making your pussy ache. “hold on baby” he spread your thick brown legs watching the wetness that stuck to your fat cunt and inner thighs. armin pushed your legs open, knees to your chest spiting on your clenching hole, and letting two fingers rub your clit, the gold bows shining. “y-yess” your eyes were low and burning to close. tears brimming at your water line as you bucked into his fingers bitting your lip. armin had a small smirk on his lip, moving his fingers and slapping your pussy making a little squirt dribble out of you.

his gripped his long skinny cock and tapped it against you making you both groan in unison. “you gonna do it mama?” your boyfriend’s ears perked, wondering what did he want you to do. his chest beat rapidly watching armin slid himself into you while he pinched your brown nipple. his own cock jerking in his pants at how fucked out you looked. he watched armin work his hips leaning down and kissing your lips. “say i-it baby” armin moved back to hovering over you and gripped your hips, fucking himself in you harder. “tell your minni what he wants to hear” your legs shook, your hand moving against his stomach to take some the pleasure away. “m-minnn ohmygod” squirt shot out of you again, but armin knew you could give him more.

one hand left your hips and started back rubbing your clit again making your mouth go into an o shape a silent scream falling from you. “tell me baby, then you can make a fuckin mess” your breath got caught in your throat as your pussy pulsed clenching down on him. “m’breakinggg up with himmm” squirt shot out going all over armin and your pink cover. armin smiled in victory, moving his cock to plunge into you softly. “g-gonna be mine forever” he stuttered out, quickly pulling out of you and jerking his pink cock to let out it’s orgasm on your pudgy stomach.

you and armin cuddled together, ignoring the pussy juices and cum that was all over your bodies. while you slept in armin’s arms, he looked towards the window and winked at your boyfriend, kissing your cheek as he did so.

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬

You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]

c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 

He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 

You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?

You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 

Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 

“Right there with you.”

You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 

“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 

You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mm-hm.” 

He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 

“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 

“So you’re in need of company?” 

You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Cherry spritzer.” 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 

The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 

Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 

“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 

“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”

His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 

“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 

You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 

You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 

“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”

He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 

“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 

“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 

Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 

“Just this.” 

“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 

So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 

Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 

He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.

“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 

You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 

You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 

He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 

It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 

“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.

You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 

He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 

“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 

“You don���t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 

Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 

“That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 

“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 

“Nowhere.” 

“So where have you been?” 

He takes a breath. “Turn around?”

You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 

“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 

—

You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 

“You okay?” a voice asks. 

You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 

His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 

You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 

“I know, I’m  sorry.” 

You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 

“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 

“I’ll leave soon.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 

“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 

“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.

His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 

He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 

You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 

“Just while I was waiting for you.” 

“What do you do?” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 

“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Like, statistics?” 

He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 

Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 

“And you’re good at it.” 

“I’m good at math, yeah.” 

“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 

His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 

You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 

“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 

“Me too.” 

“And you’re okay?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 

“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 

“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 

“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 

“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 

You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.

It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 

For a pause, you just sit. 

This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 

“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 

“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 

”Really?” 

“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 

“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 

You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 

“We might have to stand very close.” 

You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 

— 

Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 

Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 

Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 

Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 

When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 

Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 

“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”

“You’re never disgusting, let me–”

He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 

“Spence, can you–”

“It’s going up your nose–”

“–stop, holy s–”

He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 

“You wanna share?” 

“Yes!” 

“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.

He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 

“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 

He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 

“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 

“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 

“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 

You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.

You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  

Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 

“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 

You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 

“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”

“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”

“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 

“You know what shampoo I use?” 

“I deduced it.” 

“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”

He smiles shyly. “I just can.”

“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 

“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”

He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 

“You distract me, too.” 

You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”

“I don’t really want you to.” 

You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 

“I like you too,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

“Not just…” 

“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 

“Should we go out, then?” 

“We do.” 

“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 

Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 

“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 

“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 

“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 

“And if I don’t?” he asks. 

“Then we get married in Vegas.” 

“You could meet my mom.” 

“I’d love to meet your mom.”

“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 

“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 

“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 

You stroke his cheek with your nose.

Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 

“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.

You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 

“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 

“I can’t remember.” 

“I can remind you?”

“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 

“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 

“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 

Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 

[madamechrissy]

Put it On Me

nsfw- Your boss Nanami counts how many times he can make you cum on break

Your cunt is dripping down your boss Nanami’s Armani gold watch, he's watching it as it soaks his two fingers, pumping in and out of your soppy little hole now. Nanami has ten more minutes of this break, he's counting how many times he can make his pretty assistant cum.

"One.' He murmurs as you're pulsing around his fingers, thighs spread on his desk, trembling. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your sweetness off them and moaning. Cheeks hollowing. "So exquisite. Bend over my desk, darling."

You eagerly obey, ass in the air, feeling his silk cheetah tie wrap your wrists, his strong muscles flexing behind you. "Nana-mi!" Your back arches when you feel it, his hot tongue lapping up your slit, his huge hands gripping the fat of your ass, your skirt is bunched around your hips as you press into his oak desk.

Your boss Nanami fucks you so good with his tongue you cum all down his chiseled face, earning his satisfied moan as he stands now, pulling on your hair, wrapping it around his fist, gently cupping your face with his other hand. "Two."

Now your boss Nanami Kento is rubbing the fat tip of his cock between your puffy lips, you gasp at it, his breath against your ear as he bullies his cock in your little hole, you're trembling at the stretch. "K-kento... you're s'big I..."

He presses you up high on the desk, cutting off your words, your legs dangling as he bends down he's so huge, his body, his cock, his hands, you feel so small and pathetic, as you're drooling on his desk, his thick cock pumping in and out, heavy balls smacking your clit, you're screaming now, earning a smack on your ass.

"You've got to be quiet, darling.... oh, f-fuck... three." He peeks at his watch with a shaky hand, hazel eyes rolling back when you flutter around him. "You're such a mess, aren't you?" You barely manage a nod, Nanami’s cock slides in easier and easier as you're dripping g down his office floor, he's pulling that cheetah tie, using it as leverage, gasping when you tighten around him.

Your boss Nanami wants to at least get one more orgasm from you, so he presses your head into the desk, watching you drool out of your stupidly open mouth. Your fucked out eyes are so pretty, he lets you know as he bends over you completely, murmuring "four"

Nanami watches your eyes roll back as his tip abuses your cervix. Your orgasm is blinding, your head falling back, he's shoving his cock so deep, stuffing you so full, you can't take it. You're shattering as you cum so hard it hurts, feeling him in your tummy he's so deep. "Cum in me, please." You whisper, he cups your face now, exhaling at how pretty you are, the tears falling down your cheeks glittering under the office lights.

"Want me to fill you up, pretty?" He's pressing on your tummy over your blouse, you nod eagerly, and he's busting his load so deep in you. You're dripping his white sticky cum, trembling in his hold, pussy pulsing as just his cum gets you again. "F-five."

"Wh-what's the numbers?" You ask, dazed and cock drunk, he unties you, the silk leaving your wrists, that watch going off. He smirks, lips turning up at the corner,then turns you and fixes your skirt, kissing your lips.

"How much I could make you cum during my break." your boss Nanami slides your panties up now, his sandy blond hair falling over his forehead as he kisses up your thigh. "Back to work, darling."

Nanami loves his breaks 🥵 Kinda dom Nanami, I don't see it too much aha but that's my head canon for him <3