#tress-free moving

[moversmaster]

Relocation Services: Your Gateway to Stress-Free Moving

Relocation services play a vital role in simplifying the often-overwhelming process of moving from one location to another. Whether you are moving your home or office, the process involves meticulous planning, physical effort, and time management. At Movers Master, we provide top-notch relocation services to ensure your transition is smooth and hassle-free. With years of experience in the field, our team is dedicated to making every move seamless, whether local or international.

Why Choose Professional Relocation Services?

Relocating can be daunting, but professional relocation services take the stress out of the equation. Here are some compelling reasons to choose expert assistance:

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Moving involves packing, organizing, and transporting belongings, which can be time-consuming. With Movers Master, we streamline the process, letting you focus on other priorities.

2. Safety and Security of Belongings

Relocation services ensure that your valuables are handled with care. From packing fragile items to transporting heavy furniture, our team uses top-quality materials and techniques to prevent damage.

3. Expert Guidance

Every move is unique, and professional movers offer personalized solutions tailored to your needs. Whether you require storage options or need help with international shipping, Movers Master has you covered.

4. Cost-Effective in the Long Run

While hiring relocation services may seem like an added expense, it often saves money by minimizing risks of damage, delays, and other unexpected costs.

Services Offered by Movers Master

At Movers Master, we understand that each client has unique requirements. Our comprehensive relocation services cater to both residential and commercial needs:

Residential Relocation

Moving to a new home? Our residential relocation services are designed to make your move as smooth as possible. We handle everything, from packing your belongings securely to unpacking them in your new space.

Commercial Relocation

Relocating an office can be a complex process. Our team ensures minimal downtime by planning and executing the move efficiently. From IT equipment to office furniture, we manage it all with precision.

Local and International Relocation

Whether you’re moving within Dubai or across borders, Movers Master provides tailored solutions for local and international moves. Our expertise in logistics ensures timely and hassle-free delivery.

Packing and Unpacking Services

Packing is often the most tedious part of moving. Our team uses high-quality packing materials and methods to secure your belongings, ensuring they arrive safely at their destination. We also offer unpacking services to help you settle in quickly.

Storage Solutions

Need a safe place to store your items temporarily? Our storage facilities in Dubai are secure, clean, and climate-controlled, offering the perfect solution for short-term or long-term storage.

Specialized Relocation Services

For delicate or valuable items such as artwork, antiques, or pianos, Movers Master provides specialized services to ensure safe handling and transportation.

The Movers Master Advantage

Choosing Movers Master for your relocation needs comes with a host of benefits:

1. Experienced Team

Our skilled professionals have extensive experience in handling various types of relocations, ensuring a smooth and stress-free process.

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We believe in transparency, offering detailed quotes with no hidden charges. Our pricing is competitive, providing value for money.

3. Customer-Centric Approach

Your satisfaction is our priority. Our team listens to your needs and provides customized solutions to meet your expectations.

4. Modern Equipment and Vehicles

We use state-of-the-art equipment and well-maintained vehicles to ensure safe and efficient transportation of your belongings.

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Need assistance or have a query? Our customer support team is available round-the-clock to help you.

Tips for a Successful Relocation

Even with professional help, there are steps you can take to ensure your move goes smoothly. Here are some tips:

Plan Early: Start planning your move as soon as possible to avoid last-minute stress.

Declutter: Get rid of items you no longer need to save space and reduce moving costs.

Label Boxes: Clearly label your boxes to make unpacking easier.

Communicate: Keep an open line of communication with your movers to ensure everything is on track.

Contact Movers Master Today

Relocating doesn’t have to be stressful when you have the right team by your side. At Movers Master, we are committed to providing top-notch relocation services to make your move seamless. With our expertise and dedication, you can rest assured that your belongings are in safe hands.

Reach out to us today for a free quote!

Phone: +971 55 846 7780

Address: Movers Master, 7886+CQP – Deira – Al Rigga – Dubai – United Arab Emirates

WhatsApp: +971 55 846 7780

For more details, visit our website at https://www.moversmaster.com/.

[gumigirl]

office siren! geto x fem!reader pt.2!! (this may or maynot turn into a short series)

an: im still struggling w writing p in v stuff so.. yeah. on another note, im working on a college au rn that should have some megumi x reader beef so yeah..

as usual, nsfw under the cut.

cw: cunnilingus, panty stealing, some light cock stepping..

office siren! geto who should've been at his desk, calculating stocks and.. whatever he was supposed to be doing on Microsoft Excel.

office siren! geto who found himself under your desk instead.

inside your office on the top floor of the company, geto was on his knees under the mahogany desk. he'd manage to shove your pencil skirt up, bunched around your waist. he tore the thin fabric of your stockings, just to slide your underwear down your legs, into his pocket. finally. he'd been dreaming about this moment ever since that stupid office brunch. he would let out a small moan when he licked a stripe up your already damp folds. his tounge was greedy, but he didn't want this to end too fast. he wanted to savour this as if you were his last meal.

then your phone rang.

he heard the line pick up, and was about to move his head from between your thighs— until he felt your hand in his midnight tresses, guiding him even closer to your pussy, his breath would hitch. his lips would wrap around your clit, pressing soft kisses there. he heard the way your breath stuttered, and how you tried to play it off. a quiet, wanton whimper would escape his own lips as he found himself making out with your pussy, dragging kisses from your clit down to your enterance, the tip of his tongue daring to probe inside as he collected your sweet arousal. the way your slender fingers encouragingly dug into his scalp, keeping him trapped against your pussy was heaven on earth to him, as you took what he could only assume was a business call. he could tell you would move your phone away from your ear to let out some quiet pants, moans before clearing your throat. his cock straining against his slacks, this was practically his biggest wet dream. on his knees, pleasuring you. he felt himself twitch, he couldn't help but bring his free hand against his lap, palming his dick through his pants. the contact alone made him let out a moan, a little louder than the ones before, against your folds.

cathing on to what he was doing, you'd move your foot, pressing your forefoot down on his cock, eliciting a sharp mewl from him, that was muffled by your pussy. impatiently, you'd tug at his hair again, almost forcing him deeper into your cunt (not that he complained). his lips would wrap around your clit again, sucking the bundle of nerves with purpose. he could hear your stifled mewls through gritted teeth, the way your thighs squeezed around his head. he knew you were close.

with a sharp inhale, you came. eagerly, his tongue lapped up your juices. and he would return to his desk with a boner, tangled hair, but a job well done.

taglist: @anxiuscoffin @layuhsblog @seizecherry @rootsonjupiter @dekusdante @jxvajxy

[motthe]

hiii !! just read like ,, a BUNCH of ur lumen au stuff ,,,, truly i am brainrotted now because i'm just thinking of so many different scenarios involving the lumens and i am just . EXCITED !!! its SUCHHHH a good concept im a big big sucker for soulmate stuff ,,,,

i was just wondering how you feel about jayvik x reader ,,,, TWO lumens ,,,,,,,, idk if you write for anything poly or not, but id love to hear your thoughts on it !!! either through headcanons or a ficlet, whichever you feel like :]

my first viktor x reader x jayce piece i’ve ever written… wait is this my first poly drabble?? it might be actually! i hope it’s fun to read ♥️

warnings: fem!reader, slight negative feelings of not being good enough, but overall fluff!!!

The scientific jargon that came with having not one but both of your fated being inventors was overwhelming. The words they tossed around became an entire other language since you’d all gotten closer. It left you feeling unbearably empty-headed, wondering why the universe would bond you to such intelligent men.

They were already changing an entire city with their ideas, and you would bet the world would soon bear their mark as well. In comparison, you were a meager artist making ends meet at festivals and street corners. Sure, maybe your work could be seen on a few shop signs or covering a wall or two in a cafe, but that was as famous as you’d ever be—a stranger to the passing eye.

“We need to widen the cylindrical chamber, maybe add an exhaust pipe to help with the cooldown.”

Jayce’s voice slipped through your head, smooth and confident and making no sense. You’d gotten rather good and tuning out the meat of the conversations, only recognizing the tones and emotions.

The heavy, warm accent of Viktor’s replied, swirling in the back of your mind as your pencil swiped over the heavy parchment against your thighs.

Recently, they’d begun inviting you to their lab to spend your free time in their company. There were two desks to choose from, though they were usually piled high with blueprints or notes. Jayce had moved a couch into the space for your comfort, placed in the corner and under a window, well away from any dangerous work they had their hands on, though they usually took anything too precarious into another portion of the building.

Their assistant, Sky, was in and out, always double-checking if you needed anything. She was a kind young woman, curly hair and glasses and a smile that made anyone feel at home. She brought you your own coffee and snacks, promising it was no trouble since she was already bringing them to Viktor and Jayce, anyway.

“You actually eat them,” she chuckled. “Jayce will if he notices they’re there, but it’s a long shot most days.”

You understood what she meant, seeing how focused the men became on their gadgets and studies. You’re sure if you got up and left they wouldn’t notice for a good, long while.

Today was one of those days, though there was peace in your private little corner as you sketched away. You squinted over the top of your sketchbook, skimming the outline of Viktor’s goggles pressed into his thick, winding hair and quickly adding the little licks of tresses to the paper before he was moving again.

You switched targets, taking in Jayce’s side profile and adding a bit more depth to his eyebrow and under eye.

Taking a moment to look between both drawings, you were hit with their beauty once more.

Jayce was deemed the academy’s “pretty boy,” with his strong jaw and perfect smile. He was a clean cut handsome, peak health and built with broad shoulders. He knew how to use those looks to his advantage.

On the other end was Viktor. He was a haunting beauty, sleek and angular. If he had the same charisma with speaking to the masses as Jayce did, that accent would gain him more than a fair share of admirers, but his confidence and skills lied elsewhere. He had a sharp eye and wore his emotions rather loudly on his face.

Where Jayce had faint lines from how much he smiled, Viktor had a feather soft crease between his brows from how often he furrowed them. Where the golden boy’s hands were always warm, his partner’s was cold. They made such gorgeous opposites, yet they held so many comparisons in mannerisms when it came to their shared hobbies and passions.

It was safe to say you adored them and their intricacies.

Taking a slow, deep breath you checked both shoulders before moving the tuft of black in your periphery into your hand. Gold shimmered between the dark mass that made up Jayce’s lumen, settling deeper into your palm as you raised your arms and stretched.

When you moved your drawing pad to the side, you spotted Viktor’s wedged between the apex of your thighs. Swallowing your gasp, you scooped it up, praying it hadn’t been smushed the entire time.

“When did you get there?” you whispered, rubbing your pointer finger into the tawny fuzz of his light. His lumen had always had a bit more give to it, leaving it to wedge itself under your leg or your shirt collar. Viktor’s preferred to be as close as possible to you, even if it left his lumen squished.

Jayce’s lumen was firmer, still soft but in a velveteen sort of sensation. It was bigger, taking up a good portion of your palm. Now your second month with it, you’d learned if it wasn’t on one of your shoulders, it was likely circling your head. His never went far either.

You wondered if you’d received Jayce’s lumen first, if it would have more of an attachment to you. As it stood, you’d had Viktor’s since you were young while he’d held Jayce’s and Jayce yours. The three of you being tied together had become quite the story as there went many outward poly fateds in Piltover, but luckily the gawking had passed after the first handful of weeks.

It was only a few days ago that Viktor confessed he’d been rather confused when he’d met Jayce and the lumens had flashed against one another.

“There were no similarities,” he’d explained, holding up one long, thin finger for your lumen to rest on as it hovered in front of him. The three of you were cozied up in your lackluster apartment—a studio more than a bedroom but it had a nice pullout couch and plenty of blankets to rest on in front of your heater. “Jayce was ecstatic, of course, but I was ruminating over your lumen when we first met.”

“I thought he hated me,” Jayce had murmured, breath warm against your ear as you laughed.

“I did not hate you,” huffed Viktor on your other side, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand, your lumen resting within. “I wasn’t aware we had a third, yet—it was puzzling.”

“I had to explain it to him,” Jayce chuckled. “One of my old friends was in a poly.”

“And, then, he was even more ecstatic,” Viktor sighed but there was affection in it. “I thought you’d follow him home some nights.”

“And leave you all by yourself?” You laid your head on his shoulder, grinning as his eyes fled. It was still so early into the relationship, and he grew flustered with physical affection whereas Jayce sought it every chance. “I’d never.”

“It’s better now, we’re all together,” Jayce hummed, lowering to lay his head in your lap. You brushed your hand through his hair, smiling as his lumen lit up in Viktor’s lap.

“Yes,” Viktor had agreed, careful as he laid his head against yours. “It all feels…complete.”

Your chest warmed at the memory as you held both of their lumens in your hands, giving a fleeting kiss to each. Viktor’s snuggled happily into your palm while Jayce’s pulsed a happy gold before flying off, likely to check in with Viktor.

As your eyes lifted to follow its journey, you jumped when you found Jayce smiling from a few feet away by his desk. He seemed to be shuffling through some papers. Your lumen floated just nice his head, twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows behind you.

“Didn’t see you there,” you said, stretching your legs out before standing. Viktor’s lumen left your hand, keeping close to your neck.

“I hope you’re not bored.” He opened an arm up and you approached. You still grew giddy with any chance to be wrapped in his embrace, quick to accept the invitation.

“I like spending time here with you both,” you assured, giggling as he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Gives me plenty of practice.”

His eyes lit up, one of those dark eyebrows lifting. “Oh?”

“I know what you’re about to ask—”

“Please?” His arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “I wanna see.”

“They’re just rough sketches!” you laughed, pushing against his chest.

“C’mon, I bet they’re great! I’m sure Viktor wants to see them, too.”

You shook your head, a mess of giggles as he wrapped both arms around you and slowly edged his way towards the couch.

“Did someone call my name?” asked Viktor, turning from the machine he was working on. A torch was in his hand but luckily still off for the time being. Jayce’s lumen was sitting on his knee.

“Viktor tell her you want to see her art!” Jayce goaded.

“Tell him he needs to wait for a real piece,” you threw back, wrinkling your nose at him as he stuck his tongue out.

“You’ve been drawing us?” Viktor’s voice seeped with awe and innocent curiosity. “May we see?”

Jayce bounced his eyebrows at you, all too smug. “Told you.”

“Fine—fine!” you sighed, throwing your hands up and wiggling out of his hold as you went to grab your canvas notebook. “Don’t gripe when you see your half-finished faces.”

The tap of Viktor’s crutch intermingled with Jayce’s footsteps as they met you by the couch. As you handed over your work, Viktor was the one to accept it as Jace stood over him. Both their eyes went wide at the current page and your hand went straight to your arm as you shuffled in place.

“Those are just warmups, so…”

“Warmups?” Jayce breathed, looking up from the notebook. “These are amazing!”

“I have to agree, the detail is astounding,” Viktor hummed, looking to turn back a page. He caught your eyes before he did. “Is this all right? Tell us if we’re overstepping.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m used to people watching me draw on the street, it’s just… I don’t know.” You shrugged, bringing a hand up as Viktor’s lumen rubbed against your neck. Jayce’s was just settling on your shoulder again. “I care about what you guys think. It’s not anything big like you do, but…”

“Big?” Jayce echoed, both of their sights set on you.

“Well, it’s not as important as what you both do is what I mean.”

“Of course it’s important,” Viktor argued, expression stern.

“But it’s art!” you laughed, waving off the sudden seriousness growing from them. “It’s helping a bunch of people like your creations do. That’s much more important.”

“Art is just as, if not more, important,” he continued, passing the notebook to Jayce. “We are helping people in different ways, but do not do yourself the disservice and think what you create is anything less than what we do.”

“He’s right,” Jayce agreed, holding up your work. “This? This speaks to people. Your work can bring life to a room and lets people save a special moment in time.”

“Okay, don’t butter me up so much or I’ll melt!” you squeaked, too embarrassed to look at them as they chuckled and continued flipping through your sketches. It wasn’t long before the three of you were on the couch, both of them pointing out their favorites.

“Is my hair truly that messy?” Viktor grumbled, raising a hand to it. “Perhaps I should cut it.”

“No, I like it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “You twirl it when you’re thinking! It’s so sweet.”

He blinked at you. “I do?”

Jayce whistled and you turned and gasped, completely forgetting the drawing you’d done of him in the forge. It was more from memory so your imagination had left it a bit more detailed than the rest.

“Okay, that’s enough!”

You swiped for the book, shutting it as Jayce laughed. Viktor rolled his eyes, smirking as he nudged your shoulder.

“Should I be worried of any scandalous pieces of me in there?”

You pouted, holding the notebook tighter to your chest.

“Oh?” Jayce breathed. “She didn’t say no!”

“You two are the worst!” you groaned, unable to help yourself from smiling as they both laughed in tandem.

[sugarfairyteez]

Seonghwa: First Date

pairing: seonghwa x fem! reader

Word Count: 726

Warning: Involves mature content containing vulgar activities and language. Minors do NOT interact.

Includes:

Praising, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Pet Names, Desperate Seonghwa, Release on Clothes, Grinding

————————————————————————

His cock ached in anticipation. Craved to be engulfed by your wet cunt, exploring the depth ends of your vulnerability. Destined to share that precious moment with you, the thought dizzied him. Clouded in his brain, he was finally going to have you. Lingering the night was the goal.

“S-Seonghwa…”

The sweet melody of your voice hung in the air. Thumps resonated in his heart and his throbbing dick, sedating him. He could feel you, the wetness of your bare dripping pussy seeping in. The harsh rhythms of your hips pressed your slick on his hardened, clothed bulge.

You reeked with desperation— he sensed it. Desperation to get yourself off increased his level of eagerness to make you come undone.

“I know Princess…”, Seonghwa cooed, hands sliding against your smooth skin. Caressing your legs, he’d headed to clasp on the underside of your plushy thighs. Veins shredded through his thin flesh, streaking underneath as he squeezed. “You keep going for me…You’re doing amazing”

Your whines.

They drove him insane, on the edge of insanity. His contained composure cracked, but not yet crumbled. He was tempted to flip you over on the sofa, yet allowed you to work your hips on him.

Seonghwa craved you for long— too long.

He couldn’t scrutinized anything with impatience. Creating long last memories in your living room meant more than anything. He needed this to be permanently engraved in your mind— the perfect ending to your first date.

“F-Feels g-good H-Hwa”

Your cries echoed in his ears like an empty cave. Air winded his chest— the buttons on his vest loosened and undone as you yanked, clinging for dear life. “G-Gonna c-cum soon…”

Soon?

It was his key sign to make you release now. He needed you to.

Matched rhythm, Seonghwa grind, amplifying the pleasure for you and himself— his pulsated cock. Determination stroke within, driven by the crazed wails and moans spewed from your lips.

“I’m aware doll face~”

Gruffness filled his tone. The acceleration of his heart beat increased whilst his hips moved rougher. His cock twitched, begging to be released.

“Bet your pussy is aching to release, isn’t it?”

Thoughts were spoken into words. Peace settled, the bliss freeing him as he continued. “You deserve it…You deserve to be fucking spoiled”

Leant back, he caught a glimpse of you:

Face fucked out and scrunched, your lips were wide agape. Your eyes were shut, random strays of your hair peeked messily. Your dress was ruffled, bunched on your hips; the thin strap gliding down your shoulder, exposing your skin. You looked beyond ethereal.

An animalistic growl fled from him. “Fuck, you look so pretty for me baby~”

His palms roamed, head spun in circles as the surface of your smooth skin grazed his touch. The grip on your thighs freed, swooping upwards to grasp on your nude ass. “You look prettier than I imagined. Can’t wait to finally fuck you…”

Hues of red splayed over your glistening skin, flushed with a tinted blush. Your neck dampened, shining with the residue of your sweat. He knew you were very close.

“I wanted you for too long Princess~”

His airways felt as if they were closing in. The shakiness was visible, peaked through his words. Nostrils were caressed with the sweet scent of cherry blossoms, pulling you even closer to him. “Waited too long to fuck you~”

“S-Seonghwa! P-Please—”

Tingles jolted throughout his body, the shriek that left from you pierced through him. Your dainty fingers combed his black, long tresses— the air whisked as the bucket hat fled long ago. He’d moved his hips harsher.

Mind blank, gushiness sunk in past his restraints. Lewd squelching hung loosely in the air— a hazed feeling washed over him. His cock was teased, hinted with the sweetness of your nectar.

“Fuck doll face~”

Saliva pooled in his mouth— your breasts neared his face, perked nicely. The tender flesh was loose, partially covered by your dress and bra. His lips ached, trembled as his leant in to place gentle kisses on your skin. Lips stung with anticipation.

There was one more thing left to do— the thing that would complete him.

“Need to be inside of you…”

Seonghwa mumbled across your skin, breathed between each soft kiss. “Is that okay with you Princess?”

The whiney ‘yes’ was all he needed.

[soonyoungs]

what about maybe angst/hurt to comfort with mingyu, it could be a really stupid argument they’re both feeling stubborn over & then some cute fluff/smut at the end 🥹🙏🏻

ఇ mingyu and gn!reader

ఇ warnings: smut! alcohol consumption mentioned! not proof read! written while sleepy so i hope it makes sense!

ఇ wc: 1,597 (this was really only supposed to be a short blurb)

ఇ notes: i’m so sorry this took forever! i’ve been so busy with work. i hope this is alright! 💗

[4:33 am]

“you’re drunk,” you say to him, voice monotone “i’m done talking about this until you’ve sobered up and i’ve calmed down”. you close the front door behind him, as he stumbles in. he crosses his arms and juts out a hip in annoyance. if he wasn’t as drunk as he is now you know he’d roll his eyes, but at the moment he can’t even manage that.

he huffs, starting to move passed you and shakes his head “whatever,” he wobbles on unsteady legs, running into the entry wall. you move to help him level himself and in pure, emotional, instinct he pushes your hand away. “ve’got it,” he mumbles, just barely securing his footing and slowly walks by you. bending over to take off your shoes, you sigh at his outburst. hearing you he stops in his tracks, whipping his body back around “got a problem?” he makes his way back to you, softly running into you as he does so.

“no, gyu” you say, slowly “no problem, just tired. let’s talk about this after we’ve gotten some rest, yeah” you straighten your back and pat him on the shoulder “im going to bed, good night”. you stand on your tip-toes and leave a small peck on his cheek, letting your face linger next to his longer than you had meant to. you’re thinking of all the things you want to say, all of the bones you’ve got to pick with him, but before you know it he has his mouth pressed against yours and your back pushed against the front door. a small moan leaves your throat and your eyes widen in surprise, your hands resting on his arms for support.

mingyu lifts his hand to your face, holding it gently in place, as he deepens the kiss. you open your mouth slightly, only allowing him minimal access. in his state of inebriation he is quick to gently nip at your bottom lip warning you before applying more pressure and giving it a good tug before bringing his head back to make eye contact with you. “what were you saying,” he asks as you’re both trying to catch your breath. you honestly can’t even remember what you had been arguing about anymore. was it because mingyu doesn’t know how to turn off the flirtatious charm when he’s speaking to others? was it because he’d had one too many to drink when he told you he’d “only have one”? or was it because you had accepted a drink from a stranger and mingyu made a scene? no matter the reason, all that mattered now was that mingyu finish what he started.

“dunno,” you whisper, reaching up to grab at the hair on the nape of his neck. “not upset anymore,” there’s a mischievous smirk on your lips as you move forward to start where you’d left off. mingyu pushes himself back and picks you up, planning to drag you to your shared bedroom. he’s wobbling around and you’re scared for your life the entire way but, eventually, you make it to your room in one piece.

you’re unceremoniously tossed on to the bed, body bouncing on the mattress a few times at the impact. you’re about to complain when mingyu crawls onto the bed with you, hovering over your body. he sighs before bending his neck, resting his head on your shoulder mumbling something that sounded like an apology. “what,” you cock your head to the side, freeing him from his comfort space so you could hear him clearly.

“sorry i embarrassed you,” he shakes his head, his tresses tickling you as he does so “shouldn’t have made a scene. couldn’t stand to see some weirdo give you something,” you could tell there was more he wanted to say, he’s just struggling to find the words. you stay silent as you allow him time to think and when he’s ready he begins again “was worried about what they gave you too. you took it so easily and didn’t even seem to care, it could’ve been anything in that cup!” he’s not aggressive with his statement but his voice continues to grow louder as he speaks. you finally remember what had you both so heated on your way home. 

mingyu had brought you along to a party with some of his coworkers and left you unattended for a while to mingle. being the unsocial butterfly that you are you stayed close to the bar, so as not to get lost. as you were finishing up your drink someone, uninvited, took the seat next to you and had begun to try and strike up uncomfortable small-talk conversation. when the drink in question had been offered, you readily accepted it, thinking that it might just help you get through this painfully awkward moment. as soon as mingyu saw you accept the strangers drink, and throw it back in one go, he was on his way to you. ready to let this stranger know you weren’t available and to take a hike.

“baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair “i’m sorry i worried you. i didn’t mean to, i was just trying to get them to go away” you giggle softly, leaving kisses on his head. mingyu moves and peppers small kisses to your lips as his hands travel down to the hem of his shirt, removing it, separating from you to take it off. mingyu makes quick work of your clothes, tossing it to the floor and leaving you both naked.

mingyu is already rearing to go and he’s  sincerely hoping the alcohol is to blame, otherwise his neediness for you is much more embarrassing than he’d like to admit. you’re not much better than he is, as you’re quick to reach down and take him in your hand, stroking him. he groans as you apply pressure and tease his tip. mingyu sits up and throws his head back, allowing you to do as you please with him. “so good,” he’s whining “baby slow down, i’m already sensitive” he’s scrunching his nose and furrowing his brows in concentration. he knows he won’t last long but he wants to make the most of it, and cumming before he can even touch you is not the move.

mingyu puts his hand on yours, helping you stroke him for a bit before he stops your movements and starts rubbing his cock against you, teasing you in return. you let out a groan at the feeling of him rutting against you. “gyu,” you huff “mingyu, put it in soon, please” you’re borderline begging him. he hums in acknowledgment, but continues moving against you, hoping that you’ll climax once before he’s inside of you. you’re close when mingyu bends down and kisses the side of your neck, then you’re cheek and finally he’s tugging on your earlobe. you can hear him pant against your ear, as he’s struggling to keep his composure as he’s rutting his hips against you faster now. you finally tip over the edge and throw your head back, hips jumping as you become increasingly more sensitive.

“one more,” mingyu asks of you as he finally slides himself inside your warm walls “god please, give me one more?” you’re clawing down his back at the stretch of him and before you can even adjust he’s hitting the spots he knows only he can. “feel so good, i’m gonna cum soon,” he’s practically laying flat against you, lifting his hips and dropping them down to pound himself inside of you. mingyu’s got your head cradled in his hands as he burrows his face in your neck, licking a stripe the entire length of it before moving to kiss you. he’s so close, he can feel it in his gut. separating himself from your lips, he begins panting in your ear again. “gonna cum,” he’s repeating to you, breath tickling your neck.

“i’m so close mingyu, please don’t stop” you’re just as desperate to cum as mingyu is. you’re lifting your hips to help him fuck himself deeper inside of you. mingyu briefly lets go of your head to sling your legs over his arms, moving up your body, bringing them against your chest. mingyu takes hold of your head again, making eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. he gives you a small peck before fucking you at a rapid pace, again. you arch your back, pressing your chest against his own and allowing him to hit deeper inside of you than before. “close, ‘m so close,” you’re eyes are glazing over in pleasure as mingyu begins to reach his peak. he takes hold of your ankles, moving your legs and stretching you to your limit. mingyu’s thrusts lose their rhythm as he begins chasing his high. he’s hitting you in all the right places, deep and fast. before you can even comprehend it you’re thrown into your own orgasm. you throw your head back and rake your nails down the expanse of his shoulders as you cry out his name. mingyu continues to fuck you through it, as you begin to babble. 

once you’ve both come down from your highs and mingyu has taken care of you, he lays you down, tucks you in and moves to snuggle as you settle down to sleep. “love you gyu, im sorry i made you feel upset. i won’t ever take something from a stranger again,” you pout, giving him a quick peck on the nose before running a finger down his chest, teasingly, “or maybe i will, we’ll see.”

[thedarkestrivernymph]

heyyyyy love ur writing, what if yan clan leader wants a baby?

Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife! Reader

warnings: talks of pregnancy, skinship, lots of kisses, very soft

note: this might be just too cheesy ngl..

"Love" his breath tickles you awake in your drowsy state—like a feather brushing up and down the shell of your ear.

"My love" he repeats once more, this time gathering you up in his arms to turn you over, pressing your back into the soft tangled mess of sheets.

"Mhm?" you finally muse, cracking open one of your eyes, weary as a newborn, with exhaustion deep in your bones from another day of having to deal with the clan.

There in the dim light of your shared room, stares down a god at his goddess; with reverence bordering on worship, with longing and gratitude. So he bows his head, slow and languid and presses shy kisses up and down the line of your jugular.

"I wish—" he starts between his doting and holding back the greedy beast inside of him, stopping himself from moving lower. "No—I—" again, he cuts himself off and at the repetition, your hands find his nape, scratching and pressing.

"Husband, what is it? You seem, rather, worried." you mutter between soft hums of satisfaction when he nimbles on a particular tender spot of your skin.

When he still can't untangle his tongue from your throat to speak, you twirl a strand of his around your index, squinting as the moon's silver sudden entrance. "You worry me too." Now you're frowning, and your gut clenches as he still stays quiet. "Husband—"

"I want someone like you." he confesses.

Immediately your brows shoot up.

"Someone like me?" you look at him puzzled and it's there that he sighs and climbs down. Wordlessly with a certain look in his eyes that you swear you haven't seen before. He moves lower and even lower, until his cheek finally finds the spot it was looking for; your belly.

"You. My love. A mini you." and it's there that your cheeks heat up and a grin so nasty you didn't know he had the muscles to pull off, spreads across his lips.

He presses his mouth to your belly button, uncaring that the fabric between you creates a barrier, for it would not be there for long.

"So you wish for one too?" still, he has to confirm with you—because if he didn't, if he just carelessly assumed your consent then he would be no better than all the other runts in this world. And he would rather carve out his own eyes than harm you.

Still heated, with thighs subtly shifting closer to each other, you tilt your head away, heart heavy that—this wouldn't just be duty.

That he had waited for so long and that he still just didn't take like a brute—like his elders nagged him to do, but that he wanted your thoughts on it. That he considered your feelings, placed worth on you, in a world where so little was in your power. To let you choose and let you live.

The moon embraced you both again and so in the comfort of all—in the serenity that you were free, even if it was just within your golden cage, you answer with your fingers entangled in his tresses.

And as you confirm or perhaps not you watch his face morph into tender admiration. Nonetheless of the answer — you are his and he is yours.

For all eternity.

[jjjjeonww]

jeon wonwoo - "Executive Secret."

genre - romance (FINALLY.) word count - 830 BANNER BY @wonkierideul !!!!! ~~in which your assistant is your husband. to: @wonkierideul "KIEEEEE i had sm fun talking w you abt this wonu!!! PLEASEE feel free to yap more to me abt anything!! and thank you sm for the banner my lovely <3 fill my dms with anything u want ehehheh :3 ILY MY LOVEE" from, yuna <3

As the esteemed CEO of your thriving fashion empire, you had been running on fumes for weeks, your once-reliable energy reserves depleted by the unrelenting demands of your high-stakes career. Late nights hunched over your desk, early mornings fueling up on nothing but caffeine and sheer determination, the endless whirlwind of meetings, photoshoops, and industry events - it was a wonder of how you could still stand upright, let alone maintain the impeccable composure that had become your trademark.

But today was different. Today, you had a reason to celebrate, a cause for joy that transcended the fleeting thrill of a job well done. Your company's sales had shattered all previous records, a testament to the tireless efforts and unwavering dedication of every single member of your team. And so, in a moment of rare altruism, you had decided to throw a grand gathering, a chance for everyone to forget their stress and revel in the sweet taste of hard work.

Now, as you sat before your vanity, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating your concentration as you applied your makeup with meticulous care, You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. You had built this empire from nothing, pouring your heart and soul into every stitch, every seam, every meticulously crafted design. And now, to see it all pay off in such a spectacular fashion - it was almost too much to comprehend.

As you reached for your hair curler, the hot metal familiar and comforting in you hand, you lost yourself in the rhythmic motions of styling your long, dark tresses. You curled and teased, coaxing each lock into a glossy, cascading wave that tumbled down your back in a shimmering curtain. It was a look that had become your signature, a style that had graced countless red carpets and magazine covers - and one that never failed to turn heads wherever you went.

But as focused as you were on your task, you remained blissfully unaware of the presence of your husband, Wonwoo, as he leaned against the doorframe, his dark eyes drinking in every detail of your appearance. He had always been your rock, your sanctuary in a world that demanded nothing short of perfection. But he was also your assistant. And oh Lord did it pain him to maintain a professional demeanor whenever you were together, to resist the overwhelming urge to sweep you right into his arms and declare his unending love for all to hear. But the company's strict no-dating policy forced him to keep a respectful distance, even as his heart ached to be closer to you every second of the day.

….

As the glittering celebration reached its crescendo, the ballroom pulsed with the infectious energy and elation of your team. The air crackled with pride and accomplishment, as heartfelt speeches and raucous cheers filled the space, each one a testament to the incredible journey that had led to this monumental achievement.

Amidst the festivities, you moved with the grace and poise of a woman who had not only built an empire but had also mastered the art of leading with unwavering vision and compassion. Your black gown, a bespoke creation from tour own label, hugged your curves and accentuated your confident strides as you navigated the room, accepting congratulations and posing for photos with the same polished elegance you brought to every aspect of your life.

Throughout the evening, Wonwoo remained ever-vigilant, his dark eyes following your every move from afar. As your assistant, he ensured your glass was perpetually filled, your schedule strictly adhered to, and your every need anticipated before you even voiced it. It pained him to maintain a professional demeanor, to resist the overwhelming urge to sweep you right into his arms and declare his unending love for all to hear. But the company's strict no-dating policy forced him to keep a respectful distance, even as his heart ached to be closer to you.

As the night wore on and the celebration showed no signs of abating, Wonwoo found himself inexorably drawn to your side, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his love. He sat next to you cautiously, leaning in to murmur in your ear as you paused to take a sip of your champagne.

"Y/n, look at what you've achieved. Your vision, your dedication, the incredible team you've nurtured - it's all culminating in this extraordinary moment," he whispered, his voice low and filled with barely restrained emotion. "I'm so incredibly proud of you, my love."

You turned your head to face him, your eyes meeting his, and in that instant, the rest of the world fell away. The music, the laughter, the clink of glasses - it all faded into a distant hum as you gazed at the man you loved with every fiber of your being.

"None of this would be possible without you, Wonwoo," you replied softly, as his hand found yours beneath the table, their fingers intertwining in a secret.

[bunji-enthusiast]

“Come and Get That!”

Possible ooc Gallagher, fluffy sex (doesn’t really get into it though, I got lazy), short and sweet, dog euphemisms, sub-ish!Gallagher.

That’s it, I haven’t really written anything really smut related in so be niceeee. He’s just so… adorable Augh. Brain is stuck on him.

Being naked infront of other people wasn’t something of an activity he normally partook in and all, yet somehow, a little minx wormed his way into his mind.

You, it was fucking you.

Gallagher was an easy, approachable man of course. That was part of being a Bloodhound Security Officer, being head of the Bloodhound family. Yet, he could also be mean when he wanted to be.

However the truth remained, he was quite the soft-hearted man. Maybe that’s how he ended up here.

Here he was, naked as a bare dog. Well, save for the boxers atleast. Though it was somewhat evident too see, that his cock was straining to be free. Almost seeing a wet patch beginning to form, and how shameful it was.

The way your words were honeyed and saccharine, every single one oozing with affection for the man.

It felt tortuous, somehow… loving? He wasn’t sure, your touches were; so featherlight, gentle and warm. As if every single little movement you made was intentional, you were taking your sweet time in worshipping every inch of his skin.

Even the scarred patches of it, the wrong looking skin, the kind of skin that should be repulsive to even look at. And here you were, kissing it still.

He was breathless — for lack of a better word, Gallagher didn’t know what to think. He looked, unsure of where to put his hands, even if he was so experienced in such a steamy position of a situation.

He took even breaths, to better steady himself the moment you pressed a kiss to his cheek. To snap him out of his delirium, Gallagher’s eyes flitted over to yours, tired but content — even.

“You still there?” The question hung in the air for no more than a few meager seconds when he finally answered you, fore-head to fore-head, despite the sweat beading down both of them.

If there was really a god there up in the high vast ends of the stars, then, god—oh god. You were making him see the divine deity.

“Darlin’ your torturin’ me,” He drawled, voice raspy and baritone. And it wasn’t this unusually deep, not unlike every other time the two of you had screwed around with eachother. You couldn’t help but almost laugh, a grin tugging at your lips, something that didn’t leave his attention.

His back hits the back of the bed, up-ending almost bottoming out. Even though it wasn’t all that there yet, your touches alone felt as if they were searing along his skin. Something he didn’t deserve at all, not this dirty dog.

Immediately, you had followed him, straddling his hips. Taking your home right where he didn’t want you to be, yet the way his hips bucked up betrayed the thought.

“There’s a difference between the two,” You murmured, pointing your finger against his firm chest, then languidly trailing up to where his stubble sat perfectly. “You should know.”

“S’..” He huffs, eyes flitting to a close as his brows knit in short frustration. “Sweetheart.” He whines—a short heavy breath following right after, Gallagher’s large and scarred hands moving to your hips, and his cute little noise immediately shot friction right up where you sat on top of his clothed head. You grinned again, your hand now traced to the midsection of his torso. His eyes fluttered to an open when you tapped him in the middle of his abdomen, garnering his attention once more.

You smiled, oh so gently, hand now cradling the side of his face and the other hand holding up the brown messy tresses of hair out of the way and kissing his forehead.

His eyes seemed to be almost blown wide, lips thinned into a thoughtfulness. Gallagher watched your every move—once again.

The tired man’s gaze seemed to be almost, predatory in a way. But he seemed to be so out of it as well, vertically balancing between still being conscious or just seeing stars instantaneously. And he wasn’t sure which one he was closer toward.

Quite vexing indeed, watching as you move your hand against the trail of his skin. Bordering between his actual skin, and the fabric of his boxers.

As each minute passed, you could tell you needed to bring some attention to the much weeping cock that was straining against the fabric of its confines.

Gallagher was being very patient too, content with whatever you did with him.

“Darl’ you..” He whispered, chest heaving with heavy breaths, “Don’t hafta—“

His thighs flexed as he let out a hiss, feeling the way your hand palmed him. Watching as the back of his head hitting the pillow, you let out a soft sigh, “Don’t you reject yourself these things.” You say, a soft and possessive tone.

You leaned forward, hand holding his chin as you tilted his head; “You deserve this, you’re a good boy.”

Honest to god—the sound he let out was akin to that of a dog’s whining. Gallagher’s face was flushed with heat, absolute embarrassment, and it really didn’t help either with how cute he looks with such a disheveled appearance.

Strands of brown sun-kissed hair, and the moon kissed the under-skin of his eyes. The way his muscles writhed and rippled everytime you touched him anywhere in his body, and his scars too. The little roars of red thrumming from time to time had truly enticed you, and you had wondered what his condition with his scars where, however—you never decided to pry. You didn’t want to be invading his privacy, you weren’t privy to his life story anyway as he wasn’t to yours.

You leant back, returning your hand to its previous position. Watching his face for any sign of rejection, but seeing as how his brows were furrowed, the occasional heaving of his chest. He didn’t seem to dislike the idea at all.

So you went through with it, letting the poor weeping cock free. And it surprised you somewhat, a bit bigger than the average person. His head seemed to be angry, reaching for attention.

Your eyes flit to his face, and boy was it such an amazing sight to see. His face was flushed—even further with embarrassment, not at all had he expected the entire duration, to be paid so much attention to.

Normally, it’d be him flustering you, taking care of you in all the right ways. And he was fine with that.

But this?

Gods this was so, so odd. He felt fucking pathetic, hips bucking for your touch—trying to get some stimulatiom. Beads of sweat rolled down his body, and he was feeling everything right now.

You returned your gaze to where he needed you most right now, pushing your shorts to the side and even your underwear. Still, he had forced himself to watch every bit of your movement.

For a moment your hand hovers over his cock, deciding between jumping into it, or working himself off first.

However it had seemed the glint in your eyes, that you made the decision.

Gallagher let out a hiss, the back of his head hitting the pillow once more, large hands scrambling to hold the sheets tightly as you had wrapped your hand around the top somewhat toward the bottom.

Gallagher knew, oh he knew—

He was going to be in for the long one.

[mashup-writing]

I Laugh Like Me Again; Bela Dimitrescu (Resident Lover)

-------------------------------------------------------

Requested? ❌

"Be still, my foolish heart. Don't ruin this for me"

Summary: Waking up in the bed of the campus clinic after passing out after getting her heart back, Bela finally comes to terms with the fact that it's been a successful run.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

Bela wakes up with a crick in her back.

It takes her a moment before she's able to fully psych herself up to open her eyes when the sun's bright rays stubbornly pierce her tightly closed eyes. One deep breath exhaled later, and she finally manages to fully drag herself back into the waking world- Not without lack of annoyance & hissing over the brightness that assaults her vision.

"I never did like being in this place."

She thinks to herself as she realizes that she's in currently lying down on a bed within the Campus clinic.

"All that budget and the old crow couldn't even get better beds-"

Bela takes in another deep breath, cutting off her own tangent before she manages to sour her own mood even further by thinking of the Headmistress. A small movement that bumps against her hand is what draws her attention away from her gripes-

The glorious sight that greets her when she cranes her head to look stops her heart in its tracks. A head of navy colored hair in a loose ponytail, facedown on the side of her bed. A grimace breaks her gaze for a single second, the shock rendered her unbreathing and now it hurts a bit to kickstart the process- But Bela brings her gaze back to the slumbering person waiting by her bedside.

It's too much to handle, and she doesn't know if she can even bring herself to speak right now. It wasn't a dream that her and MC managed to triumph over Miranda, she wasn't dreaming when she fought against the dizziness threatening to knock her out cold at the steps of that building- She tears up when she realizes that the last thing she saw before blacking out wasn't a dream, the worried eyes she saw really were worried. It wasn't just a figment of her imagination;

Bela's hand moves on autopilot as it comes up to bury into those dark navy tresses she's come to love so deeply. With gentle and trembling fingers, she frees the strands from the confines of the hairtie and when she's able to feel the vibrations of her fingers gently scratching against your scalp, it's all that it takes to break the floodgates open.

The tears flow freely, and she almost feels guilty when the sob that wretches itself free from her lips wakes you up. But your sleep addled eyes immediately turn wide awake and full of excitement when your gazes meet, and the ego boost of knowing she's the reason for your bright smile banishes the offending emotion like light in a darkened room.

"You had me worried!"

Bela can't help but let herself melt into the embrace when you all but throw yourself forward to give her a tight hug. She'd let you hold her like this for eternity- Wants to have you hold her like this for eternity. Unfortunately, time passes and waits for no one and you let go to give her a once-over.

When your worried eyes find nothing wrong and they drift back up to meet the gaze of her soft blue ones, Bela brings both hands up to cup your cheeks with her palms. She takes a moment that feels like a lifetime to just take your face in- Convince herself that you're not incorporeal, that this isn't a dream- Before she pulls your against her in an emotionally loaded kiss.

She's thankful you're here.

There's contentment, happiness, love, and satisfaction pouring from her and into the kiss, and you drink all of the emotions in until you're drowning and your lungs are begging you for air. Neither you nor Bela wish to pull away so soon, but when you do withdraw it's done in synch. There's a moment filled with nothing but the sounds of heavy breathing as you both chase for the air that you've voluntarily forgone for a few moments, and words that leave your lips once you've composed yourself grants you the most joyful sound you've ever heard on this Earthly plane.

"What kind of last words before fainting are you have pretty eyes anyway?"

Blue eyes widen in humor and surprise before a rumbling laugh tears its way out of her, and soon you're joining in with her until your sides sting from the effort that comes with laughing too hard.

There's unshed tears begging to fall in the corner of her eyes, and you waste no time gently wiping them away. Bela's hands immediately cover your own and she maneuvers them until your knuckles are just barely flush against her lips. Her gaze never breaks from yours as she answers your question with a blinding smile.

"It's the truth I know."

She closes her eyes and begins to reverently place a kiss to each of your knuckle, hoping that the sincerity in her actions would make the love she feels seep into your skin and burrow itself into your bones.

Her heart is truly hers again, and she can't wait to share it all with you.

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

01-11: Wrote this right after double checking my Thesis Proposal Paper, & I am tired!

[zablife]

Tommy's Obsession

A/N: I had a thought about Tommy's pref for long hair and the kink that develops from it after revisiting this blurb. I hope you enjoy my filthy musings. 🔞

Sitting at Tommy’s side you place your cheek to his knee, feeling his tweed trousers scratch against your soft cheek. His hand caresses the top of your head gently as he sips his whisky, the light from the fire illuminating you both in the darkness of his office. The day has been long and the tasks endless, but here in this room he can relax with you. He knows you're loyal and devoted, his completely.

Knowing how much he needed this, you readied yourself the moment you heard his car approach. You removed the numerous pins from your hair, allowing your glossy locks to cascade over your shoulders in subtle welcome. When Tommy saw you standing before him like a vision he breathed a sigh of relief, crossing the room to capture you in his arms and breathe in the scent of your perfume. The intoxicating aroma enveloped him as the curtain of your hair drew around him, inviting a peaceful solitude. It didn’t take long to unwind from the day after that, moving to the sofa wordlessly with crystal tumbler in hand.

Brushing against him lovingly was where you felt most safe and Tommy well served, but not yet satisfied. A groan released from his throat told you all you needed to know of his slight discomfort and you moved from his knee to free him from the confines of his tightening trousers. The clink of his belt was mirrored by the ice cubes in his glass as he gazed down at you adoringly. 

He gulped suddenly at the rush of cool air against his thighs as you slid the thick material of his trousers from his waist and shimmied them down his legs, placing open mouthed kisses to every inch of skin you could find. “Tommy, tell me what you need,” you whispered against his bulge as you returned to him, laying your hair across one broad thigh.

Hand returning to the crown of your head, his fingers massaged your scalp lightly. You heard a moan as he began to tug at your roots and you inhaled sharply at the wet patch that appeared in his pants by your open mouth. Tongue darting out to swipe over his weeping tip, you sucked gently through the thin fabric, desperate for a taste of him. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he exhaled on a shaky breath, hand lowering to cup your chin. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip to smear the saliva that had gathered, a chuckle escaping his lips at your eagerness. Quickly ridding himself of his shorts, he captured your small hand in his, guiding you to stroke him languidly. Your teeth caught your plump lower lip as you watched him instruct you, silken hair falling forward onto his fist.

A primal grunt issued forth as Tommy felt your locks caress his calloused hand. In one deft movement, he captured a swath of your hair and wrapped it around his hardness, feeling the satiny luxury slide against him, he seemed to melt. “Not hurting you am I?” he asked breathlessly.

Though he tugged on your roots, it was no different from your usual lovemaking and you sought to reassure him, intrigued to see what he might do next. “No, it’s alright,” you whispered, stroking over his hand gently. You watched intently as Tommy took control of the movements, shifting your hand to cup his balls as he tightened the hold your tresses had on his throbbing cock. Taking himself in hand, he pumped harder, curses falling from his lips with every touch of his fingertips against your silken threads.

“Oh, fuck, Y/n. M close,” Tommy panted, the tip of his tongue wetting his parched lips. 

“Cum for me, Tommy,” you begged, tilting your head to look up at him with doe eyes, tongue outstretched in wanting desire. That was all it took for Tommy to unravel before you, desperately clutching your face in his hand as he spilled inside your warm, waiting mouth. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction as you swallowed every drop, feeling his fingertips slowly unwind your locks from his softening cock. 

You giggled as you pulled back from him, wiping the back of your mouth with a proud smile. Tommy pulled you up to sit beside him, running his hands through your hair as he kissed you full. He wouldn’t be finished with you until he’d bathed you, washing your hair and helping you comb it out later at your dressing table, then plaiting it in a long braid down your back. It was a ritual you’d come to enjoy for the comfort and safety, but also for the promise of tomorrow. He’d wake you in the morning with a harsh tug, pulling you down onto his cock as he asked who you belonged to. 

--------------------

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[noisyquokka]

October Eyes

PAIRING - Minho x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Every inch of him is beautiful and captivating to you, always and forever. But his eyes. Oh, his eyes...

WORDCOUNT - 1.4k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, kinda lovey-dovey, teasing if you squint, two (2) idiots hopelessly in love with each other

A/N - My little addition for Lino Day! Enjoy, Darlings!

It's somewhere between mid morning and noon with the way the sun bleeds light into the living room. Not that you care, oh, no. Not when you have the perfect view at this moment in time.

Your head is resting against his thigh, his current read propped up on the other. Your body has settled into the cushions beneath you, your heels digging into the fibers. Brown eyes flit across the page they're on, blinking closed every few seconds as if to hide from your adoring gaze. It's cat-like in nature; a contented half-lidded slip that has your fingers twitching to run through the dark tresses that frame his face.

"You're staring again."

He hasn't looked your way, but he can feel your eyes on him. Your lips twitch in a half grin.

"Am I?" 

Time almost comes to a standstill as you slowly drink him in. You know every detail of his face like the back of your hand; the way his brows sit above those amber eyes, arching higher when you make a snide remark or he's being cheeky. Feline eyes that carry an impossible intensity. How they shine like fool's gold when they settle on you.

Another blink. Slender fingers twitching between your own. Cat eyes shifting.

You look away, back to your own book propped up on your knees. There's always a sharpness to his gaze — so precise as to shatter you like glass. Brown eyes hold you in their focus and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep your eyes on the book in your lap, turning a page with your free hand.

Minho is a patient man, he could wait for your eyes to meet his again. He could wait for minutes, hours, weeks. Years. But he doesn't, not at this moment.

His novel closes, the pages whispering their inked words into the crown of your skull with the force. You blink but you don't look away from your book, turning the page as if you're properly comprehending anything your pupils sweep across. Fingers brush against the flesh of your jaw, tapping softly under your chin to get your attention. That move. That move always works on you, and it's no different now. Eyelids flutter open as you tilt your head back to meet maple and cinnamon. 

Your mind is somewhere entirely different now, as if Minho is the Sun and you're the planets that revolve around him. You breathe inward, the soft noises of the outside world seeping in but becoming nothing more than background static as your attention is captured once again. His body wash floods your nostrils.

"What's got you so enamored with me, Baby?" The way he asks is cocky in that signature Lee Minho way, a dark brow shooting up in question.

"Many, many things." You hum, letting your book fall between your thigh and the sofa. His right hand finds your left, fingers lacing together, wrapping over the skin in a sure squeeze. Your thumb grazes his knuckles in response.

"Enlighten me, would you?" His voice is a smooth, velvety croon, traveling through your ears. Messing with your brainwaves in the best way. His mouth curves into a smirk as he speaks, those tiny divots creasing at the corners of his lips. It's such a simple thing, small and inconspicuous when he smiles. But you notice it. You adore it.

"It's those eyes of yours," you murmur, your tone delicate as you study the man that gazes upon you. "Your eyes are like a deep forest, a mystery that pulls and pulls. Intimidating as a mountain lion. But lucky for you, I don't back down from a little mystery. Once you get through the darkness, they're the river that carries and cradles the forest's autumn leaves. They're dappled sunlight through a jar of honey. Just as warm and sweet. And that mountain lion? Just a tortoiseshell cat searching for a warm lap to curl up in."

You're rambling like a poet, passionately and ever longing for your muse. Every inch of him is beautiful and captivating to you, always and forever. But his eyes. 

Oh, his eyes.

Your heart flutters in your chest, your brows twitching as you study his face. 

Minho shakes his head slightly, and you have to suppress a gasp as he lifts you onto his lap, your hands clinging to him instinctively. Your words make Minho's stomach flip, a deep shiver rising up from it as your fingers twine tighter with his. He gives you a look, as if he's trying desperately to figure you out despite years of being together.

"I'd sell my soul to understand what goes on in that mind of yours." He says, voice soft, whispery. A crisp Autumn breeze on the lake, inviting goosebumps over your skin. Yet you feel warm having him so close to you, his hands running the span of your back. Your lips twitch up, fingers coming up to trail his jaw. 

"Why sell your soul when you can hear every little thought straight from the source?"

 "What else do you love about me, then?" His head shifts, a little light spark in those bourbon eyes at your gaze.

And you would. God, you would spill your guts just to see him glow with affection. But it seems that your little poetry session has ended because the words fail to come to you. You know exactly how much of your own emotions are written all over your face in this moment, and you make no attempt to hide it from him. You allow yourself to stare with soft eyes, smiling like a lovesick fool. Minho's hand runs along your back, fingers dancing down your spine.

"You."

The word is said with the utmost certainty, your eyes drifting to Minho's lips. "Every part of you."

Your lack of words are made up for with touches, hands caressing your Lover's skin with attentive care as they brush past a sharp jaw and collarbones. 

It's intimate. You're not pawing at each other in a sexual haze. This isn't about lust and desire. It's intimate in the way two souls weave into one another after lifetimes apart; deep and delicate and raw and heavy. Safe. Sacred.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your entire body feeling lighter with each brush of Minho's hand along your skin. Your fingers trail up the side of his face, the palm of your hand pressing against the skin as you gently caress his cheekbone with your thumb. You know that what you're doing would make most partners feel insecure, but Minho presses into those touches like a needy feline. Holds your gaze as if there's nothing else on the planet to distract him from you, unabashed by all the attention you're happily giving him. Your chest rises and falls with your breaths, his thumb drawing tiny patterns into the soft flesh of your hip.

"I feel it's only fair to ask what you love about me?" You say, lashes fluttering as you lean back in his hold, draping your neck over the armrest of the couch.

Minho smiles down at you, that half-grin he often sports in your company making its way onto his face. He shifts so he's leaning closer to you, his breath hot on your neck as he speaks just above a whisper.

"Everything. Your eyes… your laugh… that little grin you give me when I try to kiss you- there it is," He leans in to press his lips to yours, smiling into it when you laugh between kisses. He leans back just enough to lock eyes with you again, those browns all consuming. "...the way you look at me… like I've created the universe just for you. I love everything about you."

You're looking up at him with stars in your eyes, completely and utterly devoid of anything other than a soul shattering affection as Minho's words sink in. His freehand comes to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you up to press a kiss to your forehead. It's long and lingering as he breathes you in, your pulse steady under his fingertips. Your lashes flutter at the contact.

"Love you." You mumble, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"I love you."

You lean back into Minho's embrace, basking in the heat of his body and the softness of his touch. His gentle smile is like a warm blanket, wrapping you in a familiarity that's as cozy as any real fleece. It's intimate, but not like before. There are no long gazes or deep sighs, just the quiet comfort of being near each other.

Minho's hand rests over your shoulders and you lean into the gentle affection, your forehead resting against his chest. His breathing slows as the two of you sink into each other's embrace, October eyes watching over you as you begin to doze off.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[uchu-no-bashira]

I can't stay mad at you (NSFW) - Gyomei x BlackFem!Reader.

Authors Note: This was the second half of the fluff. Hope you like it, if you don't I don't care lmfao. Its old, so please excuse the grammar.

TW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Size Kink, Breeding, Dirty Talk, Slight Begging, Dom/Sub, Reader is black cuz I said so.

Gyomei lay under you in your amorous embrace, kissing you like he'd never see you again, listening to the shakiness of your impatient breaths as you try to undo your bra from behind. Your fingers fumble with the hooks, unable to undo them, no thanks to your husband who was creating friction against your exposed clit with the bulge in his pajama pants. He chuckles, trailing his fingers from the top of your spine to the middle of your back.

"Let me do it, my love."

With a single stroke from his dexterous digits, he unsnaps your bra, pulling it off with his teeth and smiling at you. A breathy cackle could be heard from you before you toss the garment to the side and your lips crash into his. Holding each side of his jawline, you fall to your side before pulling him on top of you. He removes his pajama bottoms and briefs, freeing his large cock and laying it atop your already slick folds.

"I need you so bad right now, Gyomei."

"Music to my ears." He tones as he lines himself up slowly, his tip prodding a dripping wet opening. Anxious hips lean into yours, allowing him to slip right into a welcoming tight pussy. Gyomei furrows his eyebrows at the tight fit, letting out a salacious moan. So perfect, he thinks, knowing a man could grow easily addicted to this one feeling and he'd be damned if he wasn't… How lustful of him. He loves the feeling of delicate digits caressing his shoulders and the forlorn whimpers that escape your lips.

Gyomei moves in closer, his lips attentive against your neck and shoulder as a gentle calloused palm rests upon your hip, the other on your cheek. With eager breaths on his palm, he decides to deepen himself. His hips move teasingly, rubbing your quivering walls just right as a sharp breath resounds in his ear due to your newfound fullness. Those same gentle fingers he loves, pushes through his dark silken tresses with one hand while the other latches onto his shoulder. He adorns the way you attempt to ground herself, trying desperately not to unravel too quickly as you take him inch by delicious, thick inch.

The sound of "Gyoumei~" falling undemandingly from your lips with each thrust coerces a "Yes, my love…" from him in the softest tone. It wasn't a question of what you needed, instead it was knowing in that moment, your need was being met with excellence. The tone of his name, that sweet enraptured tone, tells him to stay where he is while pushing deeper. Your voice quivers as his lips line your collarbone hungrily, his thumb swiping gently against your cheek, taking mental note of the flushed hotness of your skin. He couldn't believe this was your reaction to taking him halfway. You had only one word for this experience,

Breathtaking.

"You feel so amazing around me," he whispers in your ear, humming in pleasure from your breathy open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder and the pleasured moans escaping your throat. The way your smaller body writhes under his large frame and the manicured nails gently pressing into his back while his dick disappears into your sloppy, greedy pussy has the man slowly unraveling.

"You sound so beautiful,” He growls, snapping his hips heedfully into your sweet spot, pulling a guttural moan from you as a squelch fills his ears and a thick creamy ring forms at the base of his dick. He couldn't help but release a soft moan as you claw his shoulder blades.

The way your knees tremble against his waist, and the half-coherent repetition of "So good~ Please don't stop!" Has the man love-drunk on your sounds. The hand on your waist glides down your thigh before resting behind your knee and he smiles at the way your chest rises and falls while he glides his tongue down frivolously to your nipple. He savors the salty taste of your pleasure, swirling around your areola, sucking gently to steadily pull the knot in your stomach free.

"Ah~… Gyou–mei." He doesn't miss that hitch in your breath and the small whimper that follows. He knows you're close, the pulling of his hair and the arching of your back can attest to that. He loves the goosebumps on your skin, he loves your haggard breaths and the way your lip quivers anticipatedly as he traces your skin with his tongue from your nipple. He places multiple butterfly kisses to the base of your jaw, hips moving in and out impulsively while being squeezed between your clenching walls. A soft whimper catches his attention as he thrusts slowly for a moment.

"Just... Like that~…" You're holding on by a thread, feeling a familiar pressure build deep inside as you bit your lip. Seeing stars, your eyes roll absentmindedly to the back of your skull, head tilting, hips rolling, mouth beginning to hang agape. Toes curling, thighs squeezing, back arching, mind numbing, voice rising, brows furrowed, nerves screaming…

You're unraveling and Gyomei doesn't ignore the signs at all, bringing a soft smile to his face as you make a soft squealing noise. He had you right where he wanted you: Desperate for release. His teeth graze your neck, then sink into your supple flesh as the hand on your cheek caresses your body up and down, memorizing every dip, scar and curve in your body. He could hear your heart pounding and your shaken breaths, could feel the way your nails pressed into his skin, but most and best of all he could feel the overwhelming aura of love radiating from your body.

“Gonna c-cum Gyo~” You whisper softly as his hand begins moving back to your breast to roll your pert nipple between his fingers, instantly snapping that thread that was holding you together as he tones deeply,

"Cum for me."

He listens intently to the overwhelming gush of your pussy, your pleasured cries; "Right there! Yes!OhGodYES! GYOUMEI!" The jerking of your body, The beautiful bloom of your orgasm.

Such a stimulating sensation has him filling your pussy to the brim, groaning domineeringly into your ear until cum overflows from the sides. He knows you've made such a pretty mess for him based on your pleasured wailing, but this warmth is something euphoric. He doesn't pull out. He won't. He can't get enough of this closeness and he doesn't want it to end, so he supposes he'll steep in this mess… Until you both need to take a shower of course.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Irūdy (Gift)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: No plot to be found here, dry humping, smut. Word count: ~1300

Summary: Aemond has always hated his name day, until today.

Author's note: A birthday gift for @aemondsmoon - happy birthday, Mar! I hope you enjoy. No tag list - follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on notification. Community labels are for cops.

The flagstones are cool beneath her bare feet, her way dimly lit by the braziers that burn low against the walls of the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast. The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as she pushes it open, slipping through the gap before closing it firmly behind her.

“Are you asleep?” She whispers into the gloom of Aemond’s chambers, moving with less trepidation now that she is in the privacy of his rooms.

“I was about to be”, comes his clipped reply, yet he eyes her with mild amusement and curiosity as he sits perched on the edge of his bed.

His hair hangs loose around his shoulders, the sapphire in his left eye socket shines faintly in the light reflected from the dying embers of the fireplace.

Seeing him dressed in only his breeches, sculpted torso bared to her, she feels less self conscious about her state of undress, though she wishes she’d taken the time to put on a robe before sneaking in here. The thin cotton of her nightgown does little to protect her from the chill of the air and she shivers slightly as she stands before Aemond, taking in the sight of him.

“Was there a reason you decided to sneak in here, or have you just come to gawk at me?” 

She would assume his words are harsh, were it not for the faintest of smirks upon his lips that hints at subtle playfulness.

Huffing a soft laugh, she shakes her head, feeling her skin grow warm with embarrassment. “It is the hour of the owl,” she tells him softly.

“Hmmm,” Aemond cocks his head, “my betrothed can tell the time, such a clever little thing.”

She rolls her eyes, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “That is not what I mean! It is your name day!”

His shoulders sag slightly, mouth pressing into a tight line as he looks away from her. “So it is.”

“Are you not looking forward to it?” She asks, craning her neck slightly in an attempt to meet his eye.

He sighs, rolling his eye. “No. It seems farcical that there should be a day to celebrate my birth, when I am ignored on every other day of the year. The only difference is that Aegon will have an excuse to be in his cups all day.”

Her heart sinks. She knows that Aemond is not especially fond of celebrations, but had never imagined that that extended as far as occasions designed to celebrate him. 

“This year is different though,” she reassures him, taking his hand. “This year you have me.”

He interlocks his fingers with hers, stroking his thumb softly over the back of her hand. “Yes, I have you. Forgive me. I do not meant to be ungrateful, it is just–”

She shakes her head, her free hand reaching up to stroke the softness of his long hair. “There is nothing to forgive. Perhaps my gift will lift your spirits?”

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “I did not see you bring anything in with you.”

She smiles, bumping her nose softly against his. “It is something we shall experience together.”

His right eye darkens, pupil dilating slightly as he lets go of her hand to cup the back of her neck. “And what is it you’d like to experience?”

A shiver of excitement runs through her and she has to remind herself to remain in control. Throughout her courtship with the One Eyed Prince it has been all too easy to allow him to dominate her; when he sinks his deft fingers into her hair as they kiss, cradling her head but also directing the pace of their movements. He takes the lead when he holds her down by her thighs and feasts on her cunny like a man starved, even when she sinks to her knees to pleasure him, he grabs a handful of her tresses as he thrusts himself into her mouth.

She knows that look, the gaze of a predator stalking its prey. It has arousal pooling between her thighs, but this time she wants to take charge. The idea has not left her mind since her chambermaid told her about it in hushed, excited whispers as she had combed through her hair just a few days ago. She had decided there and then that this would be the perfect occasion for it.

“You are going to lay back and take off your breeches,” she tells him, attempting to sound more authoritative than she feels, as she wriggles free from his grasp.

He stares at her for a moment, a silent challenge, but she juts out her chin in defiance, not backing down from her command.

Aemond sighs. “Very well,” he slips off his breeches and lays back on the bed.

Long and lean, he is a magnificent sight to behold, stretched out and bare before her, half hardened cock sitting proudly between his thighs.

She gasps it, reveling in the velvety softness of its weight in her palm and proceeds to stroke him from root to tip, watching his lips part and his breaths become more shallow as she rouses him to full attention.

Satisfied with her work, she moves to straddle him, a knee digging into the softness of the mattress either side of her hips, and lifts her nightgown above her hips, hovering over his erection.

Aemond’s brow furrows, he places a firm hand upon her thigh to halt her movements. “I would not sully your virtue before we are married for something as frivolous as my name day,” he scolds.

“Do not worry,” she soothes him, stroking a hand down the smoothness of his chest, “I will not take you inside. Trust me, this will feel good for both of us.”

He drops his hand back to his side, watching her with curiosity as she presses herself against his length, rocking her hips backwards and forwards, gliding along the length of him, coating him in her slick.

His eye widens and he draws in a shaky breath, causing her to grin.

“Does that feel good?” She asks in a whisper.

Aemond screws his eye shut, nodding as she quickens her pace, rubbing against him in faster strokes. “G-gods…yes. It feels divine.”

She giggles, feeling her core begin to throb as she continues to rock against him, gasping as his hands reach for the hem of her nightgown.

“It would be cruel of you to give me a gift I cannot unwrap,” he rasps, pulling the garment off and over her head.

His hands reach up to her breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks, making her whine. He leans up, wrapping an arm around her waist and captures her lips in a heated kiss, his mouth moving hungrily against hers as she threads her fingers into his hair to draw him closer.

It’s only when she feels his other hand grab her hip, pushing and pulling her against him, as his hips buck against her, adding to the friction, that she realises he has managed to once more take control of the situation. 

She does not mind though, not when every thrust of their hips against each other builds such delicious pressure deep within her. Their breaths become ragged, their panting and the sounds of Aemond gliding through her wetness filling the silence of the bedchamber.

Feeling him throb and pulsate against her sends her over the edge and she tenses, trembling as she falls apart, clenching around nothing, watching through hazy, pleasure drunk eyes as Aemond spills pearlescent strands of hot spend across his lower abdomen with a groan.

He lets go of her, collapsing backwards and she allows herself a moment to admire him. He is truly beautiful like this, hair spread messily like a halo around his head, covered in a light layer of perspiration as he fights to catch his breath through slightly parted lips.

Flopping down beside him, she reaches out to caress his cheek. “I do hope you enjoyed your name day gift.”

He is quiet for a moment, before turning to gaze at her. “I think I will prefer next year’s, when I can spill inside of you.”

Perhaps he is growing to like this special day after all.

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[sugarfairyteez]

Wooyoung: Veins

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 725

Warning: Involves mature content containing vulgar activities and language. Minors do NOT interact.

Includes:

Dom! Woo, Multiple Orgasms, Clit Play, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Oral (Fem! Receiving, Face Riding Mentions, Squirting, Slight Hand Kink, Slight Hair Tugging

————————————————————————

The veins.

Flowing freely, running long strips underneath the thin layer of his skin. Intensified, flexing as the tightening of his grip.

Your plush thighs splayed over his face, held and squeezed firmly by his hands. Yanking you closer, he’d pulled you closer to his face to dwell himself in your wetness. “F-Fuck W-Woo—”

Lips pursed, you heavily breathed out a curse. The arch in your back perfectly curved, peaked high and off the mattress that laid beneath. Staggering pain jolted your elbows, the strength leaving your body gradually. His tongue explored your vulnerability— mouth suckling harshly on your sensitive and puffy cunt.

The breaths that escaped left rushed and fast. Eyes half-lidded, they’d threaten to flutter close whilst you stared. Body writhing against his face, the whisky tresses free on his forehead shifting as he shook his head.

“Stop moving—”

Wooyoung’s soft voice pierced in a muffle, a soft tap landing on your thigh. “You need to stay still”

Seduction raveled in his tone, kissing your ears in teasing way. You whined, squirming more against his face whilst he engulfed himself back into your pussy. “Jung Wooyoung…”

You breathed, panting frantically. “D-Don’t start… Y-You know I-I can’t—”

Ripples of your high pulsated through— the waves of pleasure crashing on your body similarly to a shore. Mewling, you’d trembled, gaze locked and immersed on the man between your legs. Sweet juices flown, gliding over the surface of his relentless tongue.

Your thighs shook, fleshing close together in an attempt to flutter shut. Pried opened, Wooyoung eased them apart— saturated in the blissful pleasure, your whines followed one after another. Echoes retaliated within the walls as he’d pulled, tongue flicking over your sensitive nub. Skin glistening, your slick glazed mercilessly across his chin.

“I know…You could barely keep your legs open…”

Voice falling, the smoothness disappeared into midair. His digits danced teasingly, skimming along your slippery slit. Shudders provoked before a moan toppled over— sudden pressure applied firmly on your clit. “How else am I gonna taste you huh?”

Eyes closing, you ravished the goodness that flooded in. Vivid imagery splayed in your mind of his hands, imagining the beauty. “Do I need your pretty pussy over my face?”

A moan wheezed, reflecting on those times:

Your cunt hovered over, gasping for a single breath. Body slouched, you would tremble before him, head dizzy and filled with euphoria. His arms encapsulated your figure, encaging you with the slightest movement of your hips withdrawing from his face.

Heavenly times, you must admit.

“That’s the only way I can properly taste you. Isn’t it?”

Shivers collided upon your skin. Tingles running throughout body as the tip of his finger swirled, nuzzling your sensitive nub in a steady-paced circular motion. Arousal pooled, gushing out of your hole; your second high was approaching. “W-Wooyoung…”

Teeth clenched, the ecstasy came crashing. Your eyes opened, piercing into the man himself. The smirk grazed him was playfully teasing. “Go ahead. Do it for me. Cum.”

The entangled rasps in his voice was enough to drive you over the edge. Welded tears streamed down as you blinked— the moans bouncing off one another, your second high pulsated within you. Your nectar splashed out messily, gushing on his fingertips.

“O-Oh M-My—”

Voice trembled, the sensitivity overloaded. Wooyoung’s lips latched, diving in the depths of your cunt. His streaky veins tensed, pushing and folding you open. The curve in your back peaked higher— your head thrown to give you whiplash. Your life was devoured, slurped away. “F-Feels t-too g-good W-Woo—”

Symphonies of your cries sung, creating a sweet tune. Unsteady, your hands rustled in his neatly combed locks, grasping for dear life. The third high brewed quickly.

Exasperated, your breathing became unhinged. “I-I think I-I’m g-gonna…”

Lips parted, widely gaped like a fish. Silent moans tumbled, the euphoria immersed in your core. Tensed, the orgasm shattered, hitting harder than a train at full speed. White stars splattered your blank vision, lighting the darkness. Wetness crashed, the harsh splashes emphasized on your thighs burning flesh.

You were dazed, confused.

Opened eyes displayed the scene in front of you: You were smothered in your own pussy juices. Glistening, shining in your essence. Wooyoung’s face was semi-clean, in tact from the mess that exploded. Gruffed, his voice danced in your ears.

“Again, but this time on my face”

[egglain-archive]

North

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Sukuna x Uraume Content: post-canon (sukuna-specific ending spoilers), true form sukuna, hunter/prey, blindfolds, amab vessel uraume, praise, dacryphilia, overstim, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, dry orgasms, bath (outdooor), anal (fingering, penetration), oral (uraume receiving), rimming, explicit consent, belly bulge, sukuna is whipppeddddd Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: Sukuna swore he was done with this life.... but if he had to do it all over again, he’d choose love.

(A reunion, a misunderstanding, and a long apology.) (A very long, and very sexy, apology.)

@dreamlandcreations' Kinktober 2024 day 5: hunter/prey - blindfold - forced orgasm

Sukuna swore he was done with this life.

He met his end.

He chose his end, in fact. Walked across the thin line between life and death with his head held high, his large hand dwarfing Uraume’s. For the first time in a long time, he had been in control—not that the King of Curses was ever out of control, per se—but he had been given the ability to choose.

He didn’t choose to be reawakened. Didn’t choose to be called-upon, a pawn in a twisted game of the modern age. A tool. A weapon. He didn’t choose to have his life taken again.

But he came to accept it. He chose to accept it.

He chose to never have to deal with it again; to accept his reality, to move forward knowing if given another shot, he’d throw it all away.

Do things differently.

So why was he—?

The world was dark, but it had been dark for an imperceptibly long time. He was used to it, by now—it welcomed him, flooded the recesses of his mind with something akin to warmth. He didn’t need to think here. Didn’t need to be. It consumed him, made him small—meaningless. For the once King of Curses, for the abandoned boy, it was an escape. A haven. A break from the rush of survival, from the hierarchy of needs and wants and power. The darkness was numbing, all-consuming, quiet.

But this was not right.

The thrum of faint staccato—more felt than heard—fast and off-beat. The world was dark, but he was distinctly alive. His heart—something foreign in this infinite void—beat somewhere below.

Syrupy heat flooded through him, slow-moving through the body he was becoming increasingly aware of. This wasn’t supposed to happen—nothing ever happened in the dark. Much less whatever this was.

Once again, he toed the line. But he had already made his decision; if he had to do it all over again… he’d choose love.

Anger fizzled up inside, painting the darkness a repugnant red.

“Lord Sukuna.”

***

“You better start running.”

The words were slow, tentative as if slurring off an unpracticed tongue. But that timbre.

Heat lapped at Uraume’s frigid heart.

Sleep-tousled tresses fanned across the tatami. The vessel—no, Sukuna—lay blindfolded on the floor, hempen rope binding his hands and feet together from where Uraume had wrangled the body into submission.

Strong arms—now adorned with inked bands— tugged against the rope. A growl of dissatisfaction rumbled through him, rippling across the floor to shoot through Uraume’s bones.

They reached out a tender hand, slender fingers moving to set Sukuna free. “My apologies, my Lord—here, let me untie—”

Before Uraume could even process, they were being wrangled to the floor. Sukuna’s weight, warm and firm, flattened and caged them. Heaving breaths heated their right cheek—the opposite stung where it was pressed into the tatami. Big hands, veiny and thick, clenched into fists mere inches away from their head.

“I’m not warning you again.” Uraume felt more than heard the words, deep and rumbling from where Sukuna’s chest pressed into their back. A blindfolded face, contorted in rage, dropped to mouth against their ear. “Run.”

There was one rule in serving the King of Curses: obey—especially if he was not in a pleasant mood. The gritting of canines and clenching of molars did not spell a pretty picture. Wiggling out from under Sukuna, Uraume tripped on the hem of their ill-fitted kimono as they struggled to get their footing. No matter, they needed to get out.

As they struggled to open the shoji, the tatami creaked with the weight of their master awakening. Rising to take his revenge. Rising to hunt his prey.

Something clicked in Uraume, dark and ugly pulsing through their veins—something they hadn’t felt in over a thousand years.

Fear.

Between fight, flight, and freeze, running was the smartest—no, the only—option. So Uraume let their feet guide them through the twisted hallways of the estate, through the courtyard, and past the front gates. A slow, heavy presence was always just behind. Something about it was leisurely—assured. But Uraume wouldn’t dare stop. The aura was unlike anything they had felt from their master in over a thousand years. Something about it was hungry. Primal. Itching for something Uraume was scared to identify. So they let their feet carry them far away. Far away from the courtyard, the gardens, the home they had spent the last few years preparing for this very moment.

For Sukuna’s return.

By sunset, they were lost among the trees, damp moss seeping through their shitōzu and chilling their soles. Trees blurred together, heavy thunderheads lapping against the early evening fog. The smell of rain and earth filled their lungs, soothing the searing behind their ribs. They slipped on rocks and tripped over roots but did not dare stop until their body could no longer endure.

As darkness engulfed the forest, Uraume fell to their knees. They had shut everything off—all thoughts, reason, and navigation—and let their feet guide them far away. Now, hands buried in damp soil and shaky knees muddied, the realization set in.

They were alone.

And they were lost.

Heat flooded Uraume’s cheeks, fat tears welling behind tired eyelids. Squeezing their eyes shut, head hung, everything came undone.

Did Sukuna not wish to be reawakened?

Was the vessel not to his liking?

Had he forgotten their promise? Their vision for a better life? The path they forged, north, together?

Fingernails tore into roots. Tears dripped onto the backs of shaky hands. Their lungs were imploding in their chest, stomach heaving with each ragged, rapid breath.

Could they go back?

Would Sukuna be forgiving?

Was this their punishment?

A snap.

Uraume turned to face it.

Their world fell to black.

A fat knot tied the blindfold tight around their head, squeezing against their temples and digging into their eyes.

Hot breath ghosted over the side of their face, then their neck.

“Found you.”

Uraume’s chest squeezed—a mix of relief and dread coiling into uncertainties in their gut.

Big hands were guiding their face upwards, arching their back into an impossible angle.

“What do you want from me? Since you ran so well, I’ll allow you to speak.”

“M-My Lord… I don’t want anything from you.”

A hum of disbelief rumbled into Uraume’s spine from where their hunter—Sukuna—was pressed into them.

“Is that so? Why summon me then, mortal?”

Uraume didn’t know how to answer.

Because I always do.

Because that’s what I’m here for.

Because I’ve been waiting for you.

“To start our new life, my Lord�� together.” The words tumbled out, timid and too-quiet.

A beat.

The thick fingers glided from their jaw down to their throat, pressing right up against their fluttering pulse.

“And, enlighten me… who do you think you are?”

“Your chef, my Lord… Uraume.” It was barely a whisper.

Taut muscles curved into Uraume’s back, and their spine went rigid. They didn’t dare move, they didn’t dare breathe.

An exhale fanned warmth against the junction of their neck and shoulder. Their pulse rang loud in their ears, stuttering as the digits dug into main arteries. Uraume could feel Sukuna’s eyes against their skin, tracing the pale blue veins running right beneath the surface. Uraume had never felt so small—so helpless.

“Uraume.”

The growl spread heat through their gut like wildfire, and the subsequent loosening of Sukuna’s fingers sent blood pumping to their head in a dizzying rush. Hours of running, the lack of food and oxygen, and the fear were getting to them—they didn’t realize they were shaking until they were being crowded into big arms, pressed against a warm chest.

“Uraume.”

It was different; soft, tentative this time. Uraume couldn’t stand it.

A gentle thumb brushed against their cheek, ushering away a tear they hadn’t realized they shed. Wet lashes rubbed against the abrasive material of the blindfold, and a large hand made gentle work of untying the damn thing. As the fabric fell away, Uraume bowed their head—subservient and professional as always, if not for the pathetic way they were being held.

Two gentle fingers lifted their chin slowly, four red eyes scanning their face with an emotion Uraume couldn’t read.

“You look… different.”

Something about the way Sukuna’s tone had changed—the way he was talking so casually as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the day hunting them for sport—lifted a weight Uraume didn’t know they were carrying. They couldn’t help but smile a little.

“As do you, my Lord.”

“I… didn’t know it was you. Didn’t sound like you. And—I couldn’t see.”

Sukuna held up the strip of fabric—the makeshift blindfold—with a half-chuckle. Uraume tried to tamp down the warmth threatening to spread through their chest.

“My apologies, my Lord—it was to subdue your vessel for the ritual.”

“Meticulous as always,” Sukuna whispered.

He brushed his thumb across the peak of their cheekbone, two red eyes trained on the movement while the other set lay fixed on theirs. He said nothing at all, yet everything at once. It had been their language for centuries, these gazes—get me out of this meeting, kill this guy, do it now… thank you, you did well, I care about you.

This look—the way his brow was furrowed ever so slightly, the way his eyes were tracing the invisible outline of the now-removed blindfold—it was I’m sorry.

The dam burst, heat flooding to their face. Uraume’s smile widened.

“For you, my Lord.”

“For us.”

Big arms hoisted them off the ground, and they couldn’t help but hold onto the collar of Sukuna’s sokutai.

Sukuna let them.

He’d let them do anything.

As the two-faced spectre walked them back to the estate, Uraume fell asleep.

***

Sukuna woke up pissed.

Aside from the restraints and the blindfold, he felt shackled—always a cog in a machine he didn’t care for.

He had promised Uraume a second chance. A do-over.

So when he was being brought back to life by some brat, Uraume nowhere in sight (or rather, earshot), he was ready to tear them to shreds. He could’ve too. He struggled with the restraints before his second set of arms came in—his captor was no amateur at tying knots—but he would’ve torn them apart with his mouth if he had to. Flesh between his teeth, bone against canines—it was where he thrived.

But he wasn’t that man anymore.

He had gotten soft.

They made him soft.

So, he let the brat have a head-start.

He had been so much kinder to his captor than he had ever been to anyone (except for his chef); yet, when he found out he had done this all to Uraume, he couldn’t quite suppress the foreign bile rising in his throat. Uraume. Sweet Uraume, who had waited for him… who had been alive alone, preparing for his arrival. Uraume who hadn’t just promised but who gave him exactly what he wanted, as they always had.

A second chance.

A second chance for them.

What was this feeling?

More than anger, beyond sadness… heavy.

He wanted to punish himself. He wanted to make Uraume punish him. He wanted to fall to their feet.

Looking at their frail frame, dwarfed by his arms, he made a pact then to never go back.

He was done with this life.

He met his end.

He was grateful for it—now, it was time to start anew.

***

Uraume awoke to rustling.

Gently laid on a wooden bench, they could only see Sukuna’s back as he disrobed. Moonlight and the warm glow of the torches bathed rippling muscle in golden light. The king folded his robes with precise care, and Uraume filled with pride.

They sat up slowly, the old wood creaking below them. Sukuna turned at the sound and his sharp features softened at the sight. He brought his folded robes over, placing them on the bench next to Uraume before kneeling before them. His hands hovered above the sash of their kimono, and the way he was looking up at them made Uraume’s heart hammer in their chest.

“You may.”

Sukuna was careful with it—despite being muddied and too-large on their frame, he pried the kimono off with gentle fingers, letting it pool around their waist on the bench.

Four red eyes roamed the expanse of pale chest, drinking in every new feature of Uraume’s new vessel—the sharp jut of their shoulders, the supple flesh of their lower stomach, the scar on their left hip. Calloused fingertips hovered just above their hipbone, nose bridge scrunching pensively.

Uraume watched as Sukuna bowed his head, warm lips brushing along the raised silvered skin. The whispered touch sent chills through their legs and up their chest, thighs trembling involuntarily. Sukuna stilled the motion with a large hand, pinning their left leg down with a soft hum.

“Smell different, too.”

“My apologies, my Lord.” The words were half-hearted, head reeling.

“It’s no matter.” Sukuna rose to his feet, holding out a large hand—one of four—to help them up.

Uraume took it gently, hoping Sukuna didn’t feel the tremor running through them at the contact. Red eyes raked over their newly nude frame, running from the freshly-kissed flesh down to the tips of their toes. A low hum cut through the quiet, Sukuna’s gaze transfixed right below their navel.

Without a word, they were being pulled forward, large strides guiding Uraume through the winding starlit path. Steam from a large bath curled around stone, golden in the dim torchlight. With a squeeze of their clasped hands, Sukuna wasted no time in entering, wading to the far end to make himself comfortable. In the low light, there was no mistaking it—Sukuna Ryomen was a God among mortals, chiseled in the image of self-perfection. Two large arms folded over his tattooed chest while the other set splayed along the stone edge of the bath, the portrait of leisure.

“Coming? You can stare at me better from here.” White canines glinted.

Uraume flushed, stepping tentatively into the hot water with a bowed head. It wasn’t easy to see their footing in the moonlight, but Sukuna was a patient man—when it came to them. He helped them over with a hand, tsk-ing when they moved to take a seat next to him. Sukuna pulled Uraume in by their arm, crowding them onto strong thighs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Uraume’s face flushed—the steam, the heat of the water, and the intensity of Sukuna’s gaze had their heart slamming around behind their ribs.

“My apologies, my Lord.”

“I’m not your master, ‘raume.”

Uraume swallowed hard. The way Sukuna was looking down at them—the softness in his eyes—it was disarming.

“My apologies… Sukuna.”

A toothy grin had their heart beating off-kilter. The man from earlier, and the man before them now, could not be consolidated in their mind. And yet, it was him. It had always been him.

“Let me care for you.”

“Really, you don’t need to—”

“Hush. I’ve already decided.”

A beat.

“Do you trust me, Uraume?”

“With my life, m—” they swallowed. “Sukuna.”

“Good. I’m going to touch you now.”

His eyes bore into theirs, a large hand moving to hover over their cheek.

“Uraume. Tell me you understood.”

“Yes—I…” fuck they were winded already. Stupid fucking bath. “I understand. I would like that.”

“Good.”

His palm was hot and calloused, dwarfing their head as his fingertips kissed their temples. His palm dragged down across their cheek, long thick fingers once again guiding their face up, up, up—

Sukuna’s steady breaths ghosted over their upper lip.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” The words were quiet. Tentative. An offer, more than a statement, something fledgling and pure.

“I would like that too.”

His lips were soft. Warm and large, they brushed feather-light as if fearful that any more would break them. Uraume’s eyes fluttered shut, pressing in tentatively, smaller hands coming up to cup the jaw of the man they had loved for centuries. Sukuna’s pulse beneath their fingertips was stuttering, and Uraume felt his Adam’s apple dip as his lips parted at the contact. They took the opportunity to press against him further, to spur him on—they weren’t fragile. They had been waiting for this—whatever this was. They wanted it so bad it hurt.

Two big hands flew to just under Uraume’s armpits, holding them closer as fingertips skimmed down soft sides. Their breath hitched, and Sukuna wasted no time in parting their lips further. A warm forked tongue lapped at the seams of their mouth, teasing their lower front teeth before plunging in. Uraume suckled it in, humming softly as Sukuna forced their jaw open.

He wasted no time in mapping the roof of their mouth, tentatively pressing against the back of their tongue. Those big hands pulled Uraume closer, grabbing at the fat of their ass to pull them flush to his chest.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

A little whine escaped their throat.

“Don’t do that.” Sukuna mumbled into their lips. “I’ll get hard.”

Uraume’s heart hammered in their chest. It was impossibly hot now—the water, the heat radiating off Sukuna, and the blood rushing southward was dizzying.

Uraume wanted to be sexy—to say something sexy, something assured, something to make Sukuna’s head spin like theirs. But the words died on their tongue.

“That’s okay.”

“No.” Sukuna’s gaze was firm, cutting through the haze threatening to swallow them. Grounding them. “I’m making it up to you.”

Big hands forced open slim thighs underwater. A fat tongue—one Uraume didn’t notice until now—licked a stripe from their belly button down the trail of short white hair. Sukuna pressed his mouth to theirs, muffling their gasps as his stomach mouth made contact with Uraume’s stiffening cock. Uraume bit down on Sukuna’s lower lip to stifle a groan as the tip of his fat lower tongue teased at their sensitive slit.

Sukuna groaned, head dropping to their shoulder. “Fuck. Taste so fucking good.”

They bucked forward involuntarily, those big hands holding them there as the lower mouth sucked Uraume in. A coil wound tight in their gut as Sukuna enveloped them underwater, soft suction and heat drawing out beads of salty precum. Uraume gasped, nails scratching down Sukuna’s neck to find purchase in his fat pecs.

Their stomach tensed. Those hands were crowding them forward again, guiding them back and forth in languid thrusts. They were being used like a toy, and all they could do was sit there and let Sukuna play with them. Uraume’s head lolled back, the pale column of throat inviting Sukuna’s nose and lips to their pulse. Sukuna licked a stripe from shoulder to jawline as Uraume shakily fucked his lower mouth.

“That’s it… ride my tongue, darling.”

The words rolled off those sinful lips so easily, reverberating through Uraume’s throat and jolting pleasure straight to their dick. They were helpless, like this—surrounded. Sukuna’s lips pressed sloppy kisses to their jaw, twin cocks stirring beneath the fat of Uraume’s ass. Their hips were moving on their own now, snapping shallowly into the warm mouth awaiting them underwater. Precum was flowing out of them, coaxed out by the warm, waiting tongue.

“Can’t—” It was a broken thing, pathetic and half-gasped.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

Rough hands spanned the meat of their ass, massaging it gently as they pressed Uraume close. Pubic bone met abdomen, and Uraume saw stars. Their cock hit the back of a throat, and it swallowed. Their eyes squeezed shut; stars danced behind their eyelids as release washed through them, cock jumping weakly as that godforsaken mouth milked them dry.

“Fuck,” Sukuna gasped against their jaw, pupils blown.

He swallowed down their release, fat tongue stroking their sensitive cock. Uraume winced, moving to pull out, but large hands pinned them in place.

“Shh. I’m not done with you yet.”

***

“’kuna…”

They were so beautiful, like this—spread out on their tummy, cheek pressed into the now-rumpled sheets with their ass propped up for him.

He had wrung them dry in the baths, washed their skin reverently, and gotten them dirty all over again. He carried Uraume in, cum cooling on their skin, just to lick it off in bed before having them spill all over themselves once more.

He had explored their body for hours—birds chirped outside, but he didn’t have a care in the world. There was no place he’d rather be than here, three fingers and a tongue deep in his one and only.

They were shaking, drooling all over his—their—bed, a thin string of clear precum connecting their throbbing cock to the sheets.

Sukuna was so hard it hurt.

He sucked at the puffy rim of Uraume’s ass, pink and twitching as he curled his thick fingers to press against their sensitive spot once more.

Uraume bit at the sheets, gurgling as their hips pressed back into his face and hand.

“So needy,” Sukuna drawled, as if he hadn’t been edging himself for the better part of an hour now. His cocks were red and angry from where he was grinding them against the sheets.

“Can’t anymore—”

“One more, darling.”

“’kuna—”

A whine.

A plea.

Sukuna’s cocks twitched, and he felt himself getting close again. He reached one of his hands down—the one that wasn’t holding Uraume open or fucking into their little hole—to squeeze at his base.

Don’t cum.

Don’t cum.

Fuck.

He thrusted against the sheets shakily, biting into Uraume’s thigh to stifle a whimper.

They keened, tight hole fluttering around his thick, spit-coated digits.

Fuck they’d feel so good.

But this was about Uraume, not him.

He had four fists and an imagination. He could live.

Yet, the way they were crying out for him undeniably had his heart squeezing and his cocks twitching. He extracted his fingers gingerly, relishing in the wet drag of each one against their tight rim. Uraume whined, clenching around nothing, as they shifted their hips back with ragged breaths.

“’kuna…”

Sukuna shifted up to press a reassuring kiss to their shoulder, fat cock heads nudging against their gaping hole and perineum. He hissed out as Uraume rocked back into the feeling, reaching down to slide his cocks between the mounds of their ass instead.

“Shh… I’m here. What’s wrong?”

He punctuated his sentences with soft kisses to the shell of their ear, brushing back pale bangs to get a good look at them. Pale lashes clumped together wetly, fat tears rolling down pale cheeks as bleary eyes met his.

His heart squeezed.

Precum dribbled onto Uraume’s lower back.

“I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.”

Uraume hiccupped, nodding dumbly as they sniffled back tears. Reaching a shaky hand back, slender fingers spread their ass open.

“You too… ‘kuna.”

Sukuna was going to ruin them.

He wanted to split them open.

Wanted to brand their insides with his cum.

Wanted to pull their hair back and mount them properly, kiss the deepest parts of their body, mold them to his shape.

But he needed to keep a level head.

“Are you sure?”

Uraume laughed wetly, and Sukuna cursed the Gods for not making him an artist; they were made to be a muse. He wanted that smile to last forever.

“Yes…”

Sukuna pressed another kiss to the junction of their jaw and neck, before pressing another to the short hair on their nape.

“I’ll go slow, but… I’m at my limit too.”

He took his upper cock in hand, rubbing the fat head against Uraume’s fluttering hole, smearing the spit-slicked entrance with his precum. Each time it snagged, he couldn’t help but hiss out through gritted teeth; he needed to bite down on the back of his wrist to muffle the sound.

Gently—oh, so gently—he pressed forward, and fuck.

Uraume was so warm.

The two hands gripping Uraume’s ass flew to the mattress, grabbing at the sheets with white knuckles as he held himself back from snapping his hips forward. Every fibre in him was screaming—mount, breed, fuck, maim, mate, move.

Move.

Move.

He was trembling with the effort to stay still. To let them adjust. But their tight little hole was fluttering around him, Uraume slack-jawed with the intrusion despite it being only the tip.

“Can… you take more?”

The words were hoarse and pathetic, his throat like sandpaper where he strained with the effort of not screaming.

Uraume, drooling on the sheets, whimpered.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Sukuna a thousand years ago would have already pumped Uraume full; would have fucked enough cum into them to get them pregnant, cock or not. He would have taken his own pleasure, bullied both cocks into their tight hole, blood and spit slicking the way—their pain be damned.

Sukuna clenched his teeth.

He was not that man anymore.

“I need to hear you say it.”

For everything he had done wrong in his life, Sukuna hoped this would atone; the effort it was taking him to be this careful was herculean. Saintly.

“Yes—please… ‘kuna…”

Sukuna slowly pushed in further. He went slowly, listening for every gasp, for every whimper. He stopped at every hiccup, pressed a kiss for every whine.

“There.”

The word was almost reverent.

He was fully seated in Uraume now, chest pressed to their back as he caged them in with big arms.

“You’re taking me so well. So tight… so warm.”

Uraume whimpered, bearing down on the girthy cock deep inside. The hand that had guided him inside dropped to rub Uraume’s stomach, ghosting over the little bulge in their navel.

“So full of me, darling… feel.”

Sukuna guided their hand down, down, down, to feel the bulge of their stomach and the wetness between their legs, split open, spit-slicked, and gushing precum.

Uraume keened, tightening up, and Sukuna pressed a hot kiss to the side of their head.

“Shh… I’ve got you. I’m going to move now, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

Sukuna drew out languidly, four eyes rolling back as he felt the drag of that tight little rim up his shaft. He pressed back in with the same care, lapping away at the fat tears rolling down his lover’s cheeks. Uraume was blissed out, moans vibrating through Sukuna’s chest and bones.

“Faster… break me.”

Sukuna’s heart squeezed, and he swallowed back a groan as his hips snapped forward with increased vigor.

He was trying to play nice, but fuck.

Uraume was killing him.

He plowed them steady into the bed, grunting into their ear and squeezing his eyes shut to preserve the little sanity he was clinging onto. If he had to look at that face again, he’d cum.

Sukuna was many evil things, but he would never let himself cum before his partner did.

Uraume’s legs gave out. Sukuna fucked them through it, one cock plunging into their trembling form while the second nudged between prone thighs. Between the hot squeeze of Uraume’s pliant hole and the feeling of his second cock rubbing against his lover’s slicked shaft and balls, Sukuna wasn’t sure he was going to last much longer.

Uraume whimpered into the mattress, babbling incoherent, broken praises. Sukuna lifted a leg for some leverage, pounding into them just a little deeper to fuck at their sensitive spot deep inside. His full balls slapped wetly against their ass with each thrust, and the noise alone had his head reeling.

“Shit—fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—won’t last,” he hissed against their neck, breathing in the heady scent of sex and sweat and them. “Come for me baby… please, please, please—”

“Can’t—”

Sukuna growled, reaching a hand down to find their wet little cock—sticky and semi-flaccid, having cum without him.

“Fuck. Yes, you can. And you will.”

Their lover whined into the sheets, cock stirring with weak interest as Sukuna fisted it in time with his thrusts. He was so close—so wet that he could have slipped his second cock inside—

He bit down on Uraume’s shoulder so hard he drew blood.

They gasped and tightened, cock twitching weakly in his grasp.

They were cumming—

But nothing was coming out.

Uraume ground back into him as they shot blanks, and Sukuna’s mind went white hot. His eyes rolled back into his skull, pleasure jolting down his thighs and into the tips of his toes. The bed groaned with each pound into Uraume’s bullied prostate, Sukuna’s second cock weeping between their trembling thighs.

It took one, two thrusts before he was gasping into bloodied flesh, cocks pumping rope after rope of thick semen into his lovers’ guts and onto the back of their balls. Cum dribbled out through pathetic whimpers, his hips stuttering as globs of cream formed a milky ring around the base of his shaft.

Uraume keened, and fuck that felt good.

He held them with all four arms as his cock stilled inside, breathing in their scent and kissing around the tender bite. He gently pulled out, shifting to drag Uraume into his chest as he lay on his side next to them.

“I love you.”

It was quiet, pressed to their hair. He wasn’t sure if Uraume was in any state to comprehend the depth of what he was offering, but it felt right.

Uraume hummed into the blankets, and before he could process it, pale hands were pulling his face down, thumbs brushing away tears he didn’t realize he had shed.

“I love you too, Sukuna. I always have.”

[justauthoring]

brought to you by my headcanon that geto has pretty, soft, warm, big—hands.

also, i wanted to write something but didn't have much time and i find writing these little drabbles super fun!

-

"your hands are warm."

"oh?"

"and big."

"i see."

"they fit around mine perfectly, too."

letting out a low chuckle, geto watches you with an amused gaze as you take his one left hand with both of yours, alternating between simply holding it to look at his palm or threading your fingers through his.

at this point, you've been at it for over fifteen minutes but geto doesn't have the heart to pull away because you look entirely too pleased with yourself.

besides, he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice too.

"well," he hums, resting his head in the palm of his free hand to watch you with a small smirk. "we are a perfect match, after all."

your eyes flicker upwards, peering at him through his long, slender fingers with a light flush across your cheeks. still, despite the clear affect his words have on you, geto watches as you hold back your smile, opting to roll your eyes instead. "cheesy."

"says the girl whose spent the last five minutes admiring my hand," he teases. "because apparently they're warm and big and fit perfectly around—"

you drop his hand. "i told you that in confidence! don't tease me!"

smirk never faltering, geto merely ignores your whine, leaning forward to grab you by the waist as he easily tugs you towards him. he settles you on his lap with ease, like he always seems to do, slotting you right up against him before leaning back against the couch, head tilted.

"not teasing," he denies with a shrug. "merely just stating what you have."

you roll your eyes, biting your lip as you avoid his eyes. "your hands are pretty," you pout, mumbling the words.

"oh?" he snorts, "now, they're pretty?"

"they've always been pretty."

geto blinks at that, obviously having expected you to be embarrassed about his statement and not to rebuttle with such a certain voice. faintly, he feels his cheeks warm but the warmth that spreads in his chest is even more undeniable as he smiles at you; the smile losing it's cocky edge and lighting up his face.

leaning forward, he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

"you're adorable."

you giggle as he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, grabbing his arms. "it's the truth!"

he pulls back; "so is that."

biting your lip, you thread your fingers through his long, black tresses, enjoying the feeling of his soft hair as he lets his eyes flutter at the feeling of your nails across his scalp.

then, he leans back; "give me." he says plainly, palm held up invitingly.

you glance at it, brows furrowing.

"your hand."

"oh," your lips part, forming an 'o' as you oblidge to his request, letting your hand fall into his own with ease.

almost instantly he shifts, moving so his palm is facing you, fingers threading between yours as he squeezes, holding tight. his free hand moves to grab yours as well, and does the same, until he's holding both of your hands in between both of your bodies.

"i'll hold your hand forever if that's what you want," he whispers, eyes meeting yours with sincerity. "i'll never let go."

your body shivers in response, the low husk of his voice and the sincerity of his tone causes you to feel all warm and bubbly inside. geto always has that affect on you (he was rather good with his words after all) but it never seizes to gain some sort of reaction.

you were weak to him, after all.

especially is hands. he had such pretty hands—

which is why him holding yours like that, strong and firm, completely enveloping your own and his words... you're surprised you're not a puddle of meaningless goo in that moment.

letting out a light giggle, you shake your head.

"sounds perfect to me."