#you could just hear in his voice how excited he was to see him again! and really REALLY play against him

[mggslover]

spencer and readers first fight ! can you possiblyyyy do something along the lines of spencer said something sassy/petty/mean which results in reader giving spencer the silent treatment and he crashes out begging for her to speak to him 🤓☝🏼

your first fight with spencer genre: slight angst, fluff word count: 1,7k a/n: i've been so excited to write this one! honestly way too long for a drabble, but i hope you enjoy it

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this."

Spencer didn’t understand the gravity of his words before you huffed out a sigh, placing your hands on your knees as you lifted yourself up from the spot next to him on the couch. His eyes followed your body as you walked straight toward your shared bedroom, opening the door before shutting it behind you with a bang. The click of the lock echoed through the now silent living room.

Spencer sat frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the door as if you’d magically reappear in front of him.

Everything about your body language hinted at you being angry, but he couldn’t grasp why. He replayed the situation back in his head in an effort to decipher the reason.

You had cheerfully greeted him when he entered the apartment. He’d been away on a case for several days, not having had the time to speak to you over the phone or give you any updates on how he was doing.

As much as he preferred keeping clear boundaries between his personal and professional life, Spencer couldn’t resist telling you the details of some of his cases when coming home. Not when the psychology behind the unsubs fascinated him so much. And especially not when you eagerly pulled him toward the couch, pushing him down onto the soft cushions as you handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, ready to hear about his day.

You sat cross-legged in front of him, eyes twinkling with admiration as he told you about today’s case. He explained how he discovered a pattern in the way the unsub took his captives, using the numbers 11235 — the first five numerals in the Fibonacci sequence.

He noticed the frown forming between your brows as he got into more detail.

“Can you explain that to me? I don’t get it,” you asked.

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this.”

Spencer wasn’t lying. He remembered how his coworkers had blankly stared at him when he analyzed his theory — how Emily made eye contact with JJ, their silent looks saying there he goes again, and how Hotch had to cut him off to tell him to get to the point. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to explain it to you, he just didn’t see the point in doing so, not when he knew this was a connection only he could understand.

After a couple of minutes, there was still radio-silence. Spencer got up and walked to the bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Angel? Can you open up for me?”

“Just go away, Spencer.”

Your voice cracked, like you had been crying, and the sound made his heart sink.

“Please open the door so we can talk. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” Your scoff vibrated through the door. “I don’t even want to talk to you if you can’t understand what’s wrong.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his hands turning clammy. He didn’t like confrontations and especially not with you. You’d never fought before. Rationally, he knew fights weren’t necessarily a bad thing — conflicts usually stemmed from deeper fears and feelings that get triggered, and confronting these feelings could lead to creating an even stronger bond. But right now, all he wanted was to turn back time and make sure those words never left his mouth.

His mind blanked in situations like these, so the only logical fix he could come up with was to call Derek.

“Hey,” Spencer spoke through the phone, balancing the device between his ear and shoulder as he nervously paced through the living room.

“Hey man. What’s up?”

“I messed up.”

Morgan’s chuckle sounded through the speaker. “Our genius making a mistake. Who would’ve thought the day would come?”

Spencer sighed, losing his patience. “It’s serious.”

Derek paused before responding. “Alright, slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Spencer repeated the conversation for what felt like the hundredth time that day, his guilt accumulating with each repetition. He gulped when he heard Derek take a sharp inhale at the other side of the line. He could almost see him shaking his head.

“Okay,” Derek began. “Now listen to me. When it comes down to it, all women are the same, they just need some loving and appreciation. Go buy her some flowers before the store closes.”

Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. He glanced one last time at the still-locked bedroom door before heading out.

Thankfully, Spencer’s apartment was close to downtown. He hurried into the first flower shop that he spotted, his eyes scanning the bouquets until they landed on a pair of bright colored lilies. The outer corners of the petals shone with a radiant shade of pink, fading into a soft white at the center.

He cleared his throat as he placed the flowers on the counter. “Can I have these, please?”

The woman behind the counter started wrapping them in pink paper, reaching out for lint to tie a bow. “Trouble in paradise?”

Spencer blinked, not often experiencing someone seeing right through him. Besides his coworkers. And you.

“Ya know, I see so many men come in here on the daily. You can just tell they got in trouble with their lady; sweating bullets and rushing to pick a bouquet the second before the store closes.” She twirled the bouquet in her hand as she pulled on the strings of the lint bow. “At least you picked a nice one.”

“Do-,” Spencer hesitated, his voice softening in an uncertain whisper. “Will she forgive me after this?”

“Depends on what ya did,” she answered with a lift of her shoulders. “What I can tell you is that flowers don’t do much fixing.”

Damn it, Derek.

The florist turned around, rummaging through a drawer, before pulling out an envelope and sliding it across the counter.

“Write,” she stated in a single syllable. “We need words. We need to know that you care, and we need you to put more effort into it than paying ten dollars.”

With a new plan in mind, Spencer hurried home. The apartment was still silent when he returned, the door firmly closed and no signs of you having left the bedroom. He sighed and made his way to his desk, shoving aside piles of books and papers until he had enough space to write. He opened the envelope the florist had given him, and carefully pulled out a sheet of blank stationary.

My Lover Dearest,

It is ironic that I have read so much poetry and so many books in my life, and yet I cannot find the words to describe how much you mean to me.

Sometimes, I find it difficult to believe that someone as wonderful as you would want to be with me. That I’m allowed to deserve the love that you give me.

My mind works in strange ways, and as much as you’ve praised me for it, it can work as a curse as well. I am scared to overwhelm you, to talk your ears off (which would be a shame, because you have beautiful ears) to the point that you grow tired of me.

I never had the intention to cause you pain, or to initiate that you’re any less brilliant than you are. You are the brightest part of my life. I feel grateful every time I get to talk to you, and I would love nothing more than to explain any concept you’d want me to. I’m sorry for not having understood that before.

I love you. I love you. I have been wanting to tell you this in a special way, please know that I am not just saying this to ask for your forgiveness. I love you.

Sincerely, Spencer

The clock chimed 03.00 a.m. by the time Spencer finished his letter. His hand ached and he could barely keep his eyes open as he stumbled to the bedroom door. He turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. With a resigned sigh he slid the letter under the door and sat down against it. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to overtake him.

The repeated knocking of the door against his back woke him.

“Spencer?”

Your voice sounded like a siren, and he instantly scrambled away from the door, allowing you to open it fully.

You stood there, holding the envelope in your hand as your eyes softened when you glanced over him, mouth forming a small oh. “What are you doing here?” you asked in worry.

“The door was locked,” he answered, voice still hoarse from sleep.

A curse escaped your lips as you pressed your hands against your face. “I am so sorry. I must have fallen asleep with the door still locked.”

Spencer’s lips lifted into a small smile, relieved that you hadn’t locked him out intentionally. “It’s okay. Orthopedists actually recommend sleeping on the floor from time to time. Sleeping on a hard surface encourages a more natural position for your spine, which can reduce back pain. It even strengthens certain muscles, so the pressure on your body evens out. As a matter of fact, anthropological studies have shown that-”

He stopped mid-ramble, blushing when he noticed the faint smile tugging on your lips.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll stop,”

“Don’t you ever stop,” you replied as you lowered yourself on the ground next to him. You reached for his hands, placing them into your lap.

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he struggled to suppress a grin. Your encouragement reassured him, and he went on about groups in Japan and Tanzania who experience significantly lower rates of back pain due to their minimal use of furniture.

“Spencer,” you gently interrupted after a while.

He blinked at you, seeing the gleam in your eyes as you adoringly stared at him. “Hm?”

“I love you too.”

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[bandgie]

Hidden Kinks - SKZ (Ot8)

BANGCHAN! | DISCIPLINE

(def). - discipline is a form of roleplay where certain acts are framed as "corrective" or as "punishment." 

It's not often that Channie likes to be hurt, but if the mood is set and you mix some pleasure with pain? He's there. Chan likes to be good and he is, but there are times he'll be a little bad and won't listen just to see your eyes turn predatory. Tell him he's not being a good boy, that he could be better, and deprive him from what he really needs. You may not even touch him, but just clicking your tongue condescendingly and dragging a whip/your nails down his skin makes his eyes roll and cock leak after care? needed and a lot of it

LEEKNOW! | IMPACT PLAY

(def). - sex that involves the use of hands, paddles, whips, flogs, or crops on a partner's meatiest, or most nerve-dense, parts. 

Complete control. Complete trust. Minho loves being rough with you and how much you're willing to give him. Wooden paddles for your ass and silicone ones for your swollen cunt. The wet smacking, the yelps, your begging for mercy...he thinks he might have something wrong in his head with how much he loves it. He likes bondage too, but because he wants you to struggle in it. To see your body tighten and fight against the restraints when his heavy hand comes down on your face. He's sweet with it strangely, kissing your saliva-slicked lips and soothing over your red marks. after care? obviously! he has ointment too :)

CHANGBIN! | CHASTITY

(def). - to prevent the wearer from engaging in certain types of sexual activity without the permission of the dominant.

Lock him up! That thick cock looks so good in a cage and looks even better when his balls are swollen. This kink pours into daily life if he chooses to wear it to work. But it best when you two are kissing, tongues sweeping deliciously into each others mouth naked. He's so shy, covering his leaking cage with his strong thighs, but all it takes is you opening his knee to see it all. It's twitching in the restraint, begging for any type of friction, but all Changbin gets is your soft tongue. Sometimes, you'll suck on his sack just to see him cry. He pouts so cutely. You think you'll never open the cage again. aftercare? A MUST. changbin experiences subdrop so you need to cater to him even days after.

HYUNJIN! | AMAUROPHILIA

(def). - kink or sexual preference in which an individual is aroused by or attracted to the experience of reduced visibility or blindness, either for themselves or their partner.

It's just super sexy, he doesn't care who wears the blindfold. If it's him, he loves the excitement that pools in his stomach. He tends to drool from anticipation and he'll feel your gentle fingers swipe the salvia and stick it back into his mouth. Not knowing what you're going to do when you're going to do it is so exhilarating. He's on edge, yelping at every touch and caress. Cums a lot this way. When you wear it, he's always touching you. Using one hand to stroke a dildo with lube while the other plays with your folds. He likes seeing you shake your head helplessly. Loves hearing you ask what he's doing he'll just giggle and say "you'll find out." It's all so cute and loving with him. In the end, he always takes off the blindfold and kisses you sweetly. aftercare? always with hyun, no question about it

HAN! | COCK & BALL TORTURE

(def). - a fetish marked by the desire to have pain inflicted on your own penis or testicles.

This may also involve a chastity cage, but he wants to feel you hurting him. Your hands, specifically. Flick the underside of his cock one too many times. Squeeze his tip until his voice turns high-pitched and whiny. If you're feeling extra mean, you'll have him on his knees humping your feet, crying out when you press down too hard. Always a good boy. He might have a potty mouth, but he always listens to you. Han wants to see his cock red, wants to see it throbbing from pain and overstimulation. If you have one of those wands that shoot electricity, even better. Put that on his balls while sucking/licking his tip and he'll be shedding tears in no time. aftercare? yeah. just gentle pecks to his cock to help him come down and a final one to his mouth.

FELIX! | GROUP SEX

(def.) - any sexual act involving more than two partners.

His dream, honestly. He wants to feel hands on his body. Wants to be pushed forward to choke on a cock and then pushed back to bounce on another. Felix doesn't have a preference for gender, he just wants sex that feels like he's being devoured. Maybe you're sitting on his face while he's being fucked. Or maybe he's keeping your legs open, his chest to your back, while someone fucks you. He loves the sweaty bodies, the never ending cum and slick. When one person finishes, another one steps in to take their place. If Felix finishes too soon, he likes turning over and watching them fuck you. Your breasts bounce, your chest heaves, and your face is flushed. Your poor pussy must be so swollen, your mouth so abused, but those hazy eyes want nothing more than utter bliss just like him. aftercare? mostly between you two! it's so sweet. Felix also likes kissing the guests goodbye when they leave.

SEUNGMIN! | PETPLAY

(def). - a form of roleplay where humans take on the persona of non-human animals or their handlers.

He's weirded out by his own kink, but you're so good at making him feel safe. He wants to wear the leash and follow you around on his knees. It takes a while to get into this headspace, to act like a dog, but with you taking the lead and encouraging Seungmin makes it easier. He likes some humiliation too. Tell him things like "does my puppy want to hump?" or "what game does my puppy want to play?" He doesn't answer with words, but with whines, barks, and yips. Sometimes you'll plug his ass with a tail, other times your strap on, but Seungmin does just fine without it too. If he comes too early or disobeys, you call him a "bad boy" or say "I thought my puppy could listen" and though he isn't wearing ears, your swear you see them go down. aftercare? yesss it takes a while for him to come out of his headspace and he may feel embarrassed when he does. needs lots of reassurance (and treats)

JEONGIN! | OBJECTIFICATION

(def). - the act of treating a person solely as an object of sexual desire (a sex object). Broadly means treating a person as a commodity or an object without regard to their personality or dignity.

He just doesn't want to have sex with you, he wants to use you. Complete domination to the point that you're almost not there for you own pleasure (but you always cum anyways). Jeongin chokes you, slaps you, twists and turns you into so many different positions like you're a doll. The fact that you listen so good, obey so well, is also a massive factor in his pleasure. He fucks your cunt so hard you can feel it in your throat. Fucks your mouth so deep you have to plead with him using your eyes to be gentle. Jeongin can lasts for hours if you let him. He absolutely loves the way you squeal when he pinches your clit while rutting into you. You leak so much, cry so prettily. And if you're a really good doll, he'll invite his friends to play with you too. aftercare? obviously & immediately. kisses and holds you close for hours. thanking you and telling you how grateful he is

I think Seungmin's was my fav to write lol

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

A/N: imagine having multiple chapters for this fic finished for months and just. never uploading them

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 2

[Prev] [Next]

The way his hands freed you of your pants held both nervous apprehension and excited giddiness.  You could feel the way the tips of his calloused fingers trembled as he guided your hips out of your clothing and let the fabric pool around your feet.  Strong arms and a solid chest supported you in the darkness as you stepped out of your clothing, gasping as his arms swooped below your ass to scoop you off your feet.  The way Law chuckled, such a deep, sensual sound, as you involuntarily wrapped your legs around his hips, had a heat pouring in your abdomen that you hadn’t experienced in a very long time.  He carefully moved through the darkness and held you against the concrete wall, quickly adjusting to your preferred pace of kisses along your lips, jaw, and neck.

Law was quickly falling for the sounds that snuck past your tongue when he gently lowered his canines over the sensitive skin of your jugular.  You were absolutely divine.  He needed to thank Shachi later for being the one to give him the encouraging push to talk to you.

Your nails weakly scratched the skin of Law’s back, making him smile into your skin as he ground his hips into yours.  His boxers still concealed his painfully erect cock, but the friction the cotton provided against your clit had you panting and shivering in his arms.  

You wished you could see him in the darkness.  Were his cheeks as flushed as your’s felt?  Perhaps his gorgeous tanned skin blushed a darker hue of crimson that complimented his stunning face even more.  Maybe his lips were wet from your heated kisses, shining in a dirty, erotic combination of your spit.  You wanted to see the torso that felt so alluring under your fingertips.  Were there any other tattoos on his body?  How big was the piece on his chest?

Law once again captured your lips in a mind-numbing kiss as one of his hands fell to his boxers to slip his cock through the slit in the front.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You bit down a yelp as you jumped in his arms from the noise directly next to where your bare body was pressed into the concrete wall.  Law cursed under his breath.

“Aye, Law, are you in there?  What the fuck are you doing, man?”  An agitated voice rang from outside the door.  “Some guy puked his guts out on the floor, I need the Smelleze!”

“Give me a second!” Law hollered back, helping you unhook your legs from his waist and lowering you to the ground to fumble blindly for your pants.

“Are you jerking off in there?  You freak,” teased the voice outside of the door.

“Shut your trap, Penguin,” Law snapped back.

“You were, weren’t you!  Bro, I’m a guy too, I’ll just come in.”  The man, Penguin, had clearly made a motion to turn the door handle with the way the metal jingled.

Law groped for you in the darkness and accidentally fondled your breast in the process.  He quickly found your shoulder and ushered you behind the door’s hinges before hiking up his jeans and zipping his fly.  You kept your mouth zipped air-tight as the door opened and the muted neon purple light from the club flowed into the closet.

“Where’s your shirt?” asked Penguin.  You could almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

You saw Law from behind the door grab a bottle of chemical cleaner from the small shelf built into the far wall.  “Here’s your puke stuff.  Can you get outta here?”

“I need the mop, too, shithead,” teased Penguin.

You fought desperately to bite back the laugh in your lungs at the way Law grabbed the mop bucket with such fervor that the wheels on the bottom of the caddy skipped over the floor with a gaseous sound.  Penguin, who still had no idea you were behind the door almost completely naked, also found the sound to be humorous, given his dry laughter.

“Sorry for cockblocking you, I’ll pay you back later.”  The man finally closed the door behind him, once again shrouding the closet in darkness.

A stuffy silence fell between the two of you.

“I am… so sorry,” muttered Law.  You felt a pang of pity in your chest at how dejected his voice sounded, a complete contrast to his bold and confident demeanor just a few moments prior.

“Hey, don’t be, it’s alright,” you reassured, moving through the darkness to blindly reach for him.  “I guess that’s our karma for being in a broom closet.”

You felt Law’s shoulders bounce with his subtle huff.  “Guess you have a point.”

Your attention was suddenly drawn to the faint light from the floor.  Your phone had lit up in your discarded pants, illuminating through the fabric.  You bent down and scooped up your clothing, grabbing your phone out of your pocket after pulling your pants back on.

Namiiii GIRL where are you???  Some guy threw up on the dance floor and almost got Ikkaku’s shoe, so we’re waiting outside.  Did you get kidnapped or something????

“Shit, my friends are waiting for me,” you sighed, flipping on your flashlight and quickly scanning the floor for your bra and shirt.  After pulling all of your clothes back on, you gazed through the darkness to where you assumed Law was still standing.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, go see your friends,” he responded, his voice soft and tender.  For someone you had only just met, his presence filled your heart with a fuzzy feeling that was so foreign to you.

“Thank you, and hey, it was wonderful meeting you.”  You groped through the darkness, hand landing on his muscular chest.  You leaned up, pecking a warm kiss to his lips before finding the door knob to the closet and slipping out as inconspicuous as you could.

You made your way through and club and back to the entrance as fast as you could, eyeballing the man, who you figured must have been Penguin, mulling over a mound of powder on the floor.  The bartender with sunglasses who took your orders earlier was very clearly making fun of the other.  The incident must have made many people evacuate the bar, as the lights were slightly less colorful and the floor was substantially emptier than it had been.  How long were you even in that closet?

Your feet carried you through the entrance and back out onto the main road.  After glancing around briefly, you spotted Nami and Ikkaku waiting under the overhang of a closed Irish pub.  The curly-haired girl spotted you first, calling you over with a wave of your hand.

“There you are, gosh we were starting to get worried!”

You trotted up to them, hoping that your hair and make-up weren’t too messed up.  “I’m so sorry I took so long,” you sighed.

“What were you even doing, anyway?” Nami asked, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in both curiosity and concern.

“You’re not gonna believe this…” you muttered.

Your friends waited patiently for you to continue.

“That hot bartender from before,” you began.

“Yeah?” the two women urged you on.

You simply flashed a coy smile.  Nami and Ikkaku seemed to get the hint almost immediately, as they burst into a fit of squeals and giggles.

“No way, no way!” Nami cheered, almost bouncing up and down.  “Did you guys actually fuck or–”

“Nami, keep your voice down!” you hushed, laughing along with her.  “We… uhm…”

“Let me guess,” Ikkaku gestured.  “Cockblocked by the guy that puked?”

“How did you know?”

The brunette smiled.  “Everyone cleared out of there like the plague was back in style.  Figured that would make sense.”

Nami sneered at her friend.  “You’re one to talk, you almost keeled over with that guy!”

“He almost barfed on my feet, I couldn’t help it!”

You laughed through their bickering, a feather-light feeling flowing through your veins.  The events of the night, though not progressing as far as your body might have wanted, made you feel as though you were on Cloud 9 regardless.  You followed your best friends as you walked down the road back toward your apartment.

“So, what was his name?” Ikkaku asked.

“Law,” you responded.

“Did you get his number?” Nami questioned.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

“Shit.”

---

Law’s eyes were finally adjusting to the normal white fluorescent light of the club now that the patrons had filed out and he could begin cleaning his bar.  He popped an earbud into his ear and reached for his phone to turn on his own music when his thumb stopped short of his messages app.

“Shit.”

[gs29]

A Little Jealous

Squid Game Master list

The apartment was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, the kind of quiet that only came when the baby was napping. The sound of the baby monitor hums faintly in the background, a soft reminder that their little one—who was still too young to understand how precious these moments were—was blissfully unaware of just how much his parents were falling in love with him every single day.

You were in the kitchen, moving about the space with a peaceful air, humming softly to yourself as you prepared dinner. He had settled into the living room, leaning back on the couch, the weight of his thoughts momentarily suspended in the calm that surrounded him. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to fully relax, but with you and their son, he felt at peace in a way he’d never thought possible.

The baby, however, was the true source of his heart’s contentment. He had only been awake for a few minutes from his nap, and you’d already brought him into the living room, cradled carefully in your arms. The little one, barely more than a few months old, had already started babbling more, and each day seemed to bring something new. A smile, a giggle, a new sound. He had no idea how much those sounds meant to him until now.

"Look at him," you said softly, as you sat beside him on the couch, the baby wriggling happily in your lap. You smiled as you stroked the baby’s hair, watching him babble as his chubby little hands grabbed at the air. He made cooing sounds, blissfully unaware of the world around him, his eyes shining with excitement.

Your voice, tender and full of affection, made him glance over. You spoke again, holding the baby up a little so he could see his father. “Say ‘mama,’ baby,” you coaxed gently. The baby let out a gurgling sound in response, and your smile grew wider. “That’s right, mama,” you said softly, as if the word alone made your heart swell.

And then it happened.

The baby, with wide eyes and an expression of complete joy, managed to form a sound that was unmistakable. It wasn’t dada—the word he had been so desperately hoping for—it was mama.

His heart gave a little jolt. Mama? His eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, he froze.

You, oblivious to his sudden shift in mood, were smiling down at their son, cooing at how adorable it was. “That’s right, baby! Mama! Say mama, you’re such a smart little boy.”

Meanwhile, Gong yoo who had been sitting with a proud, expectant smile, suddenly felt a little… well, not exactly betrayed, but jealous. He shifted in his seat, trying to keep his reaction under control.

The baby gurgled again, as if to confirm his new achievement, and the salesman couldn’t help himself. “Wait, wait—hold on a second,” he said, leaning closer, trying to hide the hint of playfulness that had already crept into his voice. “He just said mama, but what about dada?” He shifted his weight on the couch, suddenly leaning in toward the baby, his voice turning a little exaggerated in mock frustration. “Come on, little one. Dada, say dada. Dada’s here too!”

The baby looked up at him, his bright eyes wide with curiosity. He stared for a moment, processing his father’s face, then turned back to you with a happy gurgle and cooed again.

“Mama,” the baby repeated, much to the salesman’s chagrin.

He blinked, his eyebrows furrowing for a split second. “I mean… really?” He glanced up at you, trying to hide the playful hint of disappointment on his face. “Are you sure he’s saying mama? He can’t possibly be skipping straight to mama, right? It’s dada time.”

You laughed softly, the sound comforting as you gave him a gentle look. “Oh, I’m sure. He said mama, didn’t you hear him? He’s just so smart.” You paused, looking at their son with adoration. “Of course, he’s smart. He gets it from me.”

The salesman rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, of course,” he teased. “Your genius brain. Well, okay, little guy.” He leaned back, adopting a mock-serious tone. “Let’s try this again. Dada. Come on, dada. Dada’s got you.” He reached out, gently cupping the baby’s cheek with his hand, smiling at the little one.

But the baby just cooed and, with an almost dramatic sense of defiance, repeated, “Mama.”

The salesman could only stare in disbelief. “Are you serious?!” His voice was almost a whisper, full of mock shock, and his playful frustration grew. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months now. I even let you sleep in my arms. I fed you.” He shifted in his seat and pointed to you. “And you—you’re already the favorite.”

You chuckled, your smile softening with affection. “I don’t think he’s picking favorites just yet.”

But the salesman, clearly putting on a dramatic show, crossed his arms and looked down at the baby with an exaggerated pout. “Fine. Fine. If you don’t want to say dada, that’s fine. I’ll just be over here, plotting my revenge.”

You laughed at his antics, brushing a hand through his hair. “You’re being dramatic. He’ll say it when he’s ready.”

He gave you a teasing side-eye before leaning in closer to the baby again. “I’ll be here, waiting,” he said, his tone light but full of playful determination. “I’m not giving up.”

The baby gurgled happily, his eyes wide and curious. And again, he said, almost like a song: “Mama.”

The salesman sighed dramatically. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his voice. He leaned over and kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Alright, I’ll let you have this one. For now.”

You smiled lovingly at both of them, your heart swelling at the sight. "He’ll say dada soon enough,” you said with a laugh. “Just be patient.”

But as the baby cooed again, and the salesman gave one last exaggerated sigh of disappointment, he couldn’t help but laugh too. He knew this moment, however small it seemed, was one he would treasure forever. And when his son did finally say dada, it would be all the more special for the little drama that had led up to it.

[avonne-writes]

²⁴⁾ the lap of someone who’s been gone for too long - kitty Gale, please!

Thank you for the ask! This is also a fill for one of my bingo prompts: touch-starved.

It's already dark outside when Bucky finally makes his way up the porch steps and slots his key in the front door. He turns it carefully, holding all the other keys on his chain tight in his palm. The door opens without a sound. Gale must have worked on the squeaky hinges while he was away. Could never stand such tinny noises for long.

The warm smells of home embrace him as he shrugs his coat off and puts his shoes next to Gale's as gingerly as if they were made of glass. He leaves his bag on the floor. Gale's present can wait until tomorrow. Padding inside on socked feet, Bucky makes his way through the labyrinth of silhouettes towards the bedroom. A light would give him away, so he doesn’t bother with it, just hopes that Gale hasn't rearranged anything that would break Bucky's toes if he kicked it. A risk he’ll have to take.

He's just about to skirt around the big, worn armchair that he and Gale fight about sometimes when he hears a soft thud to his right, then a figure pops up in front of him, seemingly out of thin air.

"Fuck!" Bucky exclaims, jumping reflexively. Then the sweet warmth of amusement blooms in his chest, bright and familiar. He got caught. He barks a laugh at the same time as Gale's snicker reaches his ears.

"Did you think you could surprise me?" Gale's voice rumbles close to Bucky's face. There’s a coy tone to it, something that weaves itself around Bucky’s body like a cat rubbing against his legs.

Blindly, Bucky leans in, a man starved. By some miracle or simply because Gale can see in the dark, the kiss lands where it should - on Gale’s plush lips, soft and curving where he can’t push down on his smile. I missed you, Bucky half hums, half mumbles, doesn’t get a single audible word out but Gale makes a quiet sound in return and loops his arms around Bucky’s waist. He presses his entire body to Bucky, as if he can’t decide if he wants a hug or another kiss or just wants to climb Bucky like a tree.

Bucky’s smile digs the crow's feet deeper around his eyes as he trails his kisses to Gale's cheek. "Thought you'd be asleep."

"I was." Gale purrs. His back rumbles with it, a restless rhythm that matches his breathing. It gives him away. His excitement, joy and relief pour out of him no matter how calm his voice is. "Did you really think I wouldn’t hear you?"

Bucky chuckles. "I'll get you one day."

"Sure, Bucky." Pitched low, Gale's voice trembles directly against Bucky's ear. Gale's stubble tickles his skin as Gale noses a path down along Bucky's neck, then starts nuzzling the tender crook of it, where Bucky's sweater is pulled askew.

"I missed you." Bucky repeats, combing through Gale’s hair because he knows Gale loves it. Oh, how long he’s been starving for this, to cradle his love in his arms. He was away too long. He never wants to leave again. "Did you miss me?"

Gale nips his neck, leaning heavily into Bucky’s embrace and taking deep, shuddering breaths. Still purring. "Missed you warming my chair."

"So spoiled." Bucky teases, grabbing at Gale’s side with one hand and feeling for said armchair with the other. "Such a princess."

He plops down on the thick cushion, pulling Gale along with him, into his lap. The old chair groans but bears their weight as it always does. Its fabric feels warm under Bucky's ass. Did Gale sleep curled up here as a cat, unwilling to spend the night alone in a large, empty bed? He can imagine it so clearly. A ball of cream-white fur tucked against the chair's arm, mournful eyes fixed on the front door until exhaustion pulled them closed.

Gale doesn’t reply to his teasing. He’s too busy trying to fit as much of himself against Bucky as he can, unsatisfied with the limits of their bodies, then he stills. Slowly, perhaps to savour it, he presses his lips to Bucky's again. The darkness hides his expression, but Bucky feels his longing all the same. It’s an echo of his own. He would climb inside Gale's skin to be closer to him if he could.

"I'm gonna shift, okay?" Gale asks quietly.

Bucky rubs their noses together. "Go ahead, doll."

For a moment, Gale lets his head drop to the crook of Bucky's neck again. Then, the arm curled around Bucky's neck pulls back, the weight on his lap changes, the brush of fabric under Bucky's palm gives way to silky fur, and in a blink, it’s not human Gale sitting on his thighs anymore, but a large cat.

"There you are." Bucky smiles at him, running his palm along his back.

Gale pushes into the touch for a moment, then paws at Bucky’s sweater. It’s not something that surprises Bucky. Not anymore. He pulls the hem of the garment away from his belly, and Gale doesn’t waste any time playing coy now, he tucks himself right inside. Hot and cozy against Bucky's stomach, purring away. Bucky sticks his hand inside his sweater and lays it on Gale’s back to hold him close.

He's home.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 12💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem! reader]

TW: cussing, tension, Dom/sub dynamic, bondage, Elvis being a possessive little sh*t😏🤭

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy Friday! This chapter… this chapter was A LOT to write and it’s all because this man is so damn fine🫠 Just look at these pictures! Please strap in for this part, it’s quite a lot heh. I kinda like him when he’s… you know… upset and bossy… I might be the only one who feels that way I’m suuurrreee😝 🫣 Anyway, hope you like this next part!

💔

July 31st, 1969

The night had finally come. It was Elvis’ opening night. You were so excited to see him perform live. It had been over a decade since you were able to watch him on stage. You had a feeling he was going to be better than you could have imagined. He was full of nerves the proceeding days but something about having you there calmed his nerves slightly.

You sat in one of the center red booths with a few other couples in his circle. You wore a cute black tank and skirt with knee-high boots. Everyone was nice and complimented on how you looked. They were very gracious to you and didn’t ask you any questions about why you were here alone. You were sure they caught wind of what happened but didn’t bring it up thankfully. The audience was buzzing and there were girls giddy with excitement. You were right there with them! You couldn’t wait to see what he would wear and how the bright lights would shine on him.

The thunderous drumroll begins to play behind the gold curtain and everyone turns their attention to the stage. Your skin prickles as the band starts to play the opening riff. The bass of the drum beats loudly against your chest and you’re on the edge of your seat. It takes a few minutes for Elvis to appear and for a second, you’re scared he’s not coming out. He told you how nervous and scared he was to be performing again. He deeply cared what the fans thought about him and didn’t want to let them down.

Your own nerves began to build and just as you thought, he walked from the wings of the stage. You hold your breath when you get a glimpse of him on that huge stage. If you didn’t, you’d be screaming and crying like these other girls here. He looked radiant and had the most brilliant smile on his face. He wore a two-piece, all-black suit with a herringbone pattern on the lapels with a scarf tucked into his top. You had never seen him look so good. And that’s really saying something. The way he walks is like a lethal animal. Those piercing blue eyes make you weak and he is in full command of this stage. Of his stage. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell with the way he was stalking the audience, prowling as if we were his prey that he was going to take this room down one by one.

He puts his guitar strap around his shoulder and makes his way to the microphone. His deep tenor voice booms through the speakers and you feel your heart pounding.

Well it’s one for the money

Two for the show

Three to get ready now go cat go…

His voice sounded so strong and echoed through the large crowd. Everyone is screaming his name, thrilled to hear and see this man in person. Just like in rehearsals, he brought a new light to these older songs. They didn’t lack any luster and was so unbelievable to hear them live on a big stage.

The show was over an hour of nonstop hits and you couldn’t lie to yourself, you felt flustered watching him up there. The most subtle movements were suggestive and the gritty sound of his voice sent a tingle through you. How he would thrust with the beat of the drums or pull his guitar out and then against his body over and over as if he was in the throes of passion with you. The longer he was on stage, the more you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together, trying to subside that ache he’s created in you.

He closed out the night with Can’t Help Falling in Love and it was the perfect song choice. One of the guys asks you if you’re coming to the press conference at midnight. You wouldn’t miss it for the world and knew you needed to see Elvis. You wanted to kiss him and show him exactly how he’s made you feel. You didn’t care anymore about the cameras. You weren’t going to hide your feelings anymore.

*

The guys help you get to the large ballroom where the conference is being set up. The room is full of reporters and a few lucky fans. You decide to keep standing against the wall, hoping he will spot you quickly.

At midnight on the dot, a side door opens and in walks Elvis, looking drop-dead handsome. He wore a black suit with nothing underneath the jacket except for a pink scarf fluttering out of it. His hair was fluffy and combed back again compared to the sweaty mess he was on stage moments ago. Everyone bursts into applause as he enters the room and your mouth goes dry. He makes you feel completely entranced by his presence and his god-like looks.

Yet again, he commands the room, his whole body language calm and in control. He starts taking questions from the press and he’s as charming as ever. You can tell he’s enjoying himself and everyone is hanging on every word he says. He was a feast for the eyes. The way he was absentmindedly playing with the rings on his fingers, twisting them back and forth and rubbing them as he answered a question. It was harmless to most but for you, you couldn’t help but think how those fingers would make you cry his name. It kept getting worse when he would bend his leg and rest his knee on the table in front of him, making him seem like he was the most dominant man on this planet.

After everyone had their questions answered, they allowed people to take pictures with him. You were dying to congratulate him and be in his arms again. But there were so many people in this room pushing their way forward to him. You had to be patient and you knew your time would come.

You’re only a few people away and going to squeeze through when you stop dead in your tracks.

You see Dianne wrap her hands around Elvis’ waist and pull him in for a hug. He looks down at her and smiles and pulls her in tighter, kissing the top of her head and posing for the camera. The second the flash goes off, Elvis meets your angry eyes as you stare at him. You couldn’t even fake a smile when you looked at him. All the things he’s been saying to you and how he’ll ‘take care of you’ and ‘do anything for you’ seems like a bunch of shit he made up just to shut you up.

“Hi y/n,” he says low. “So glad you’re here.”

“That makes one of us,” you snap, quickly turning away and heading out the door.

You quickly make it back to the penthouse, being careful that no one is following you or watching where you are going. You were fuming that Diane was here. For a second you thought it could just be you and Elvis for this trip but no, this little act they had going on had to come to Vegas too. You angrily kick off your heels and head for the bathroom, peeling off the jewelry Elvis bought you that feels meaningless now.

Fifteen minutes pass by and you hear the front door of the suite slam closed. You didn’t care who it was you didn’t want to see anyone. The bathroom door squeaks open wider and Elvis stands in the doorway, looking just as angry as you.

“What the hell was that?” He snaps.

“What was what?! I didn’t want to be down there with you two,” you scowl.

“You didn’t need to storm off like that-“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Why is she here?” You snarl.

“Goddamn it don’t start,” he says giving you a look of warning.

“I’m so fucking tired of her Elvis. She doesn’t need to be here! Why can’t you tell her once and for all you don’t want her here!”

“I’ve told you it’s not that simple! This was a press conference, of course they would ask if I had a girl. I had to act like what I was saying wasn’t a total lie,” he tries to say calmly.

“You could’ve lied still and not had her here that’s all I’m saying!”

“What did you want me to do?! Pull you from the crowd and tell the world how I’m infatuated with a married woman! Is that what you want?” He spats.

“You’re unbelievable, I’m so fucking done,” you mutter pushing past him to get out of the bathroom. You shuffle through the drawers to get something else to wear and turn back to him, anger flowing off of him once again.

“Is anything you tell me the truth? Do you actually care about me?” You threaten.

“You’re kidding me right?” He says flatly.

“No, I have no idea what you think of me anymore. One second you’re promising me the world and treating me like you love me and the next you have another girl around your neck! The one you tell the world you might marry one day! ”

You swear his eyes are on fire the way he’s looking at you, so filled with anger at the words you’re saying to him. “God I can’t believe this has gone on so long with her! Wasting your fucking time. And you probably-,” you say briefly but stop yourself.

“No, what? Come on and say it,” he challenges, taking another step closer to you.

You take a step closer to him too, looking up at him defiantly as you were about to say the same words he told you the first time you’d seen each other after so many years.

“You probably thought of me too, all those years ago, begging for you, while you were in her, didn’t you?” You hissed. His eyes grow wide and looks at you in utter disbelief. He doesn’t make a sound and just stares craters into you.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you spat, feeling proud of yourself for jabbing him where it hurt.

You’re about to reach for the doorknob when you feel his hand pull at your hip to make you turn around and have you pressed against the door. His other hand tangled in your hair tightly, pulling your hair and making you gasp at the sudden forcefulness. You drop the extra clothes that you had in your hand and look into his fiery eyes.

“You just love to piss me off don’t you?” He hisses in your ear.

“You question my feelings for you? Do you think I fuck anyone the way I fuck you,” he snarls, nipping at your neck.

You meet his heated gaze and your heaving chests touch each other as you stay silent.

“I have no idea,” you say frustrated.

A low growl vibrates from his chest and he puts your hands above your head, holding them there while his body pins you against the door. You hold back the moan your body makes when you feel his hard length pressing into you.

You shouldn’t want him in this moment. You were so pissed off at his behavior that you shouldn’t even be in the same room as him but you couldn’t pull away. You wanted him to prove how much he wanted you. Over and over and over again.

“You’re gonna make me show you, aren’t you? Teach you how to fuckin’ behave.” He says with a roll of his hips grinding into you. You bite your lip to silence yourself and wait for him to look at you.

“I need to show you what it means to be mine hmm,” he threatens.

Your mind screams yes at him. You want his every last ounce of attention from him and make you his. You don’t care how he needed to, you wanted him to show you and live up to his words.

He lets go of your wrists and lets your arms fall to the side. You reach up to kiss him but he backs away, denying you of his touch.

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” He says hotly, unbuttoning his jacket and pulling the scarf from his neck.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You look at him wide-eyed and slowly turn to face the door. You feel him pull your hands behind your back and wrap the scarf a few times around your wrists before tying it in a knot. Your heart pounds as what’s about to happen. You have no idea what he was going to do to you but you had no control either.

You were at his mercy now.

“Go sit on the bed,” he tells you. You do as you’re told and sit on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs. He stands before you shirtless and you watch him unbutton his pants. He doesn’t go any further than that as he puts his hands on your knees and uncrosses your legs, spreading them wide. Your skirt was short so it was easy for him to see your panties. You felt that they were soaked through and hoped he wouldn’t notice the wet stain.

His finger pulls aside your panties and he makes this delicious groan as he looks at your dripping cunt. He looks up at you, sending chills down your spine.

“Who made you this fucking wet?”

“Y-you,” you say quietly.

“That’s right. No one else gets you like this. Because you are mine and can’t deny it. All fucking mine,” he growls as he pushes two of his fingers to your entrance. You gasp at the sensation and look up at him shocked.

“Jesus you’re so starved for it. So starved for my attention hmm?” He asks you confidently.

“No, I'm not,” you say defiantly.

He looks up at you unamused by your attitude and pushes both of his fingers inside of you. You let your jaw fall slack and groan out in pleasure.

“Elvis,” you cry.

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought. So damn needy for me, only me.”

His fingers pump in and out of you, leaving you more and more breathless. He curls his long fingers and makes your hips buck up, hitting the most sensitive spot inside you and leaving you wanting more. He spreads and pumps his fingers, making you more wet for him as time passes. He keeps the same motions for a long time as you feel yourself about to come unglued. Your walls flutter around him and he quickly pulls his fingers out of you.

“No please,” you gasp.

He doesn’t listen to your cry, he unzips the rest of his pants and pulls them down his narrow hips, revealing his hard cock. You shudder at the sight of him. He also looks very needy. Aching for your touch and your pleasure you were so ready to give to him.

He looks into your needy eyes and brings his two wet fingers to his mouth, closing his eyes and licking your wetness off of them. He relishes in the taste of you and you can’t tear your eyes off of this man as you feel the pulsating warmth in your core worsen. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and bites his lip when he looks at you.

He looks dangerous.

Just like that animal on stage, he was about to eat you alive.

“Get on your knees, make it nice and wet before I fuck you,” he tells you.

You can’t feel your legs and feel so weak over what he wants from you. You do as you’re told though, sinking to your knees and looking up at him. He holds the base of his cock and taps it on your lips.

“Open that mouth for me,” he orders. You do as he says and your eyes roll back when you taste the salty precum dripping out of him. He pushes his length deeper inside you and grabs a fistful of your hair, making you look up at him.

“Look at me when you take my cock down your throat,” he commands, pushing more of his length inside you making you gag. He pulls out of you as you gasp for air. Your eyes water at the corners and continue to stay still, breathing heavily. You open your mouth again for him, waiting to move. He has a smirk on his face as he looks down on you.

“That’s a good girl. Sucha good girl for me.” He hums as he slides his cock back into your mouth. You let him use you any way he wants until he’s had enough, gagging and drooling over his cock.

He quickly pulls himself out of you and pulls you up by your arm.

“Turn around, bend over the bed, and be good,” he tells you. You felt your body become limp at what he wanted from you. You had never submitted yourself to a man like this, having no control over anything. Especially being restrained…

You try to beg him, “Baby please, I’ll listen-,” you try to reason but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Good, then bend over and let me show you you’re mine,” he hisses, twisting you around and pulling your body flush to his. His hard length pushed against your backside and you both groan. He licks the crook of your neck and up to your ear. You hold your breath and feel every fiber of your being on fire. He then nips your ear and makes you jump.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he warns.

You take a few steps and bend over the bed, resting your chest and cheek on the comforter. You twist your wrists a bit, seeing if you can get loose but it’s no use. The knot was secure. Your heart pounds away and you feel both of his hands tightly squeeze your hips. You feel his head push at your entrance and hear him grunt as he thrusts most of his length inside you. You groan in agony and feel the searing pleasure of your walls squeezing around him.

“Elvis, oh God,” you cry.

He pushes the rest of his cock inside you and he begins to fuck you in long, firm thrusts. You close your eyes and bite your lip, forcing every moan to stay in your throat and not come out. He is letting all of his feelings come out and is very vocal about how good he feels. You’re completely at his mercy and can’t see anything he has in store. His hips move in the best ways and your body relaxes more and more with every movement.

You try to look at him and try to turn your body slightly. He doesn’t like that and his hand is in your hair, keeping you still.

“No, stay right here and let me hear how much you love this,” he says low. His voice sends a chill down your body and makes you moan.

“Yes, baby. It’s so good,” you whine breathlessly, “Please keep moving.”

He moves faster and has you gasping for air. He loves hearing you lose control just as much as you love hearing praise from him.

He lets go of your hair and puts his hand back on your hip, giving him the most leverage. He grinds you into the base of his cock making you feel on the brink of collapse. You couldn’t last much longer at the rate he was taking you. You were already so weak watching him perform that anything was going to put you over the edge.

Your legs were weak and you could feel your walls flutter as he stuffed you to the brink. You whine for him to make you cum, desperate for your release. He doesn’t give you what you want right away. He slows down and sees how needy you are.

“Sucha needy girl. You need to cum? You need Daddy to make you cum?” His voice was low and gravelly. Your heart hammers at what just came out of his mouth. Oh God, you’ve never wanted to call another man that but from his lips?! You wanted to call him that and have him give you anything else you wanted.

“Y-yes Daddy. Please, please give it to me,” you moan. He lets out a guttural groan hearing you submit to him like this.

“That’s it baby, sucha good girl. Keep begging for Daddy, I like it,” he quips, rolling his hips slowly.

He was going to make your heart fly out of your chest. You felt your core flutter around him and barely held yourself back from finishing. You wanted to listen to him though, you knew he’d give you what you wanted if you did.

“Please, Daddy. I need you. I’m begging you to let me cum,” you say breathless.

He picks your body up from the bed so you’re standing and he has one knee on the bed, allowing him to become as deep as he could be inside you. His hips push into you and his hands slither to the front side of you, squeezing handfuls of your breasts. You feel his laborious breath along your neck and the sounds of his satisfaction in your ear. He moves one of his hands down your body to find your aching bud, desperate for touch.

“Cum for me baby. Cum for Daddy,” he groans, thrusting inside you deeper.

Your body listens to him and you come crashing down like waves on a rocky shoreline. Hard and fast. Your eyes shut and your body shudders at the pace of his hips. Your core squeezes around him and he cusses in your ear of how good you feel.

“Fuck… That’s it honey, cum for Daddy,” he grits through his teeth, fucking the daylights out of you.

You’re so overwhelmed with all of this and feel like you’ve been shot into outer space. You’ve never felt so satisfied with what he gave you. His hands slide down to your hips once more when he’s about to finish too. Every thrust became more powerful and sporadic. You couldn’t help but whine and scream his name.

“Yes, you’re mine baby. All. Fucking. Mine,” he grunts.

You groan at that statement and feel his length pulse inside of you. He doesn’t stop and keeps himself buried inside you. He was out of breath and kept his hands on your hips, tightly squeezing you. The sound of the slick between your legs was evidence of what a mess he made you. His hips slow but he doesn’t stop to give you a moment to breathe. His lips kiss the crook of your neck and make you gasp at every touch he gives you.

You feel his hands work the knotted scarf off of you and it flutters onto the bed. You bring your arms to the front of you and brace yourself on the bed, your body tired and trembling. He pulls his cock out of you and slowly turns you around. You cling to his body and see his flushed face.

His eyes are still heated yet soft when he looks at you, his chest still heaving for breath and his hair a sweaty mess once again.

“Don’t you ever think again that I would want anyone else more than I want you,” he says quietly with hurt in his voice, leaning down and kissing you.

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles into your mouth. You can’t help but smirk at him, liking how he gets so flustered with you.

“I know,” you whisper back.

He chuckles at your acknowledgment and pulls you back down on the bed, nestling himself in between your legs. You feel his cock still a bit hard resting at your entrance and he pushes it in. You writhe at the sensitivity and hold onto his back, pulling him closer. He makes a disgruntled sound too and looks at you again, soft and tenderly this time.

“You are all I need. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more, please don’t forget that,” he sighs.

“I won’t,” you quiver.

“I’ll have her leave first thing in the mornin’. You’ll never see her again,” he tells you sternly. You believe him and don’t doubt him for a second.

He continues to kiss you and cover you with his love. It felt so good and you never wanted him to stop. His hips subtly move and you gasp at the feeling.

“Now just give me a second and I’ll love you nice and slow, all night long if you want,” he murmurs in your ear. You feel like a puddle already and want him all over.

“Yes, please. Please Daddy,” you whisper and you feel his hips buck up into you. You groan loudly and claw at his back.

“Fuck I should have known that would sound so sexy coming from you,” he groans into your neck, kissing you over and over.

“I like being yours,” you tease, softly caressing his hair.

He hums softly and looks up at you with a smirk on his face, “You’re going to make me keep you pinned to this bed saying things like that aren’t you?”

“I don’t think you’d mind that,” you quip, kissing his full lips and relishing in his warmth.

“Uhuh, I don’t.”

•

•

•

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister@velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887@burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86@misspresley@cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl@faeolwen

[aradassbadass]

cellular sentiment | ceedee lamb ꨄ iv

‘& shii took everything not to give yo lil ass exactly what you wanted. now call me and lemme see hear it forreal’

you stared at the message stomach in knots. part of you wanted to be excited knowing that it was something in him that yearned for you just as you did him, but the nervousness overpowered that feeling entirely.

you throw your phone on the bed in frustration.

he wants me- or at least it sounds like he does. what if its just a joke. no he’s grown and this isnt high school anymore guys dont just flirt with you as a dare anymore. but guys like him, guys that can have anybody they want, usually tend not to go for somebody whose status isnt similar to their own.

falling back onto the pillows your towel falls off of you leaving your bare body exposed to the air. nipples going frigid and you glance down at yourself- something you often try to avoid. you grab at the pudge of your stomach and sigh.

these moments tended to happen where youd find yourself being overly cautious about your body. usually itd be when you were shopping for clothes seeing as to how you didnt find yourself in a lot of situations that pertained men. you didnt seek out relationships, you never had, and whether it was due to your intense schedule or your subconscious fear of rejection you didnt take much time pondering on it. this for some reason really bothered you.

your phone began to vibrate throwing your train of thought out of the window. you stare at it as it rings body stiff and unmoving.

i cant do this right now.

declining the phone you turn on do not disturb.

you know ignoring the situation wont make it go away entirely but hopefully this will deter it for now.

ꨄ

it had been 5 days since you had last talked to cedarian and you would be lying if you said this little escapade didnt hurt. a sea of emotion still clouded your better judgement but you knew you couldnt keep it up much longer.

the calls & messages from him did not cease after that night. he felt bad that much you could tell and it made you feel ten times worse.

im sorry i shouldnt have said that

can u please answer

i shouldnt have said that

fuck please answer i js wanna talk

answer me please

im sorry goodnight

hey js got out of practice i hope you have a good day at work im sorry again for ts

please answer me

hello

goodnight im so sorry

every single message from monday on was akin to one another. you wanted to respond but you felt bad for all the time you didnt so you continued till ignore him or that was until now.

you sat in your car outside of your house as the phone rang on carplay. you groaned and hit the wheel in frustration- not at cee but at your childish antics. you sighed and clicked the green button on the screen heart thumping as you did.

the other end of the line was silent at first then came the rasp of the voice you missed so much.

“hey.” a word so simple yet it felt so loaded with emotion.

“hi.” you say in response, internally kicking yourself.

“i-i um i dont know where to begin- im sorry for what i said. it was inappropriate- really inappropriate for our friendship and i-i dont know why i even sent that. fuck im sorry these few days have been hell without talking to you.” he says voice laced with emotions- sadness and regret being the most prominent.

it tugs at your heart strings and you feel worse than you did before seeing how you made him feel. “cee, you dont have to apologize. none of this is your fault. i freaked out when i read the message and started over analyzing shit because i couldnt process my own feelings towards the situation. fuck, im sorry none of this is your fault thought.”

the other side of the line is quiet and if not for the screen still displaying his contact you would have thought he hung up.

“over analyzing what?” he quizzes and you could all but picture him somewhere eyes wondering as he chews on his bottom lip.

“the fact that you could feel even remotely attracted to me. you are you and well im just me. i-i dont know cedarian i just kept thinking someone like him- someone who has the world at their disposal could even feel something as meaningful as desire or anything towards someone like me. it just made me relive all the times i was asked out as a dare or some stupid joke. i really do like you cedarian, you are one of the only people i still have with me and i-it all felt too good too be true to think that you actually liked me too.” you say the last part quietly.

the line is quiet again and you suddenly feel stupid. “see, i knew it was too good to be real.“ you say voice shaky as tears spill from your eyes.

“what, no, no. stop crying please god stop crying i feel the same way about you. no cruel jokes or anything. you dont see yourself like i do- you are beyond beautiful.” he says words beginning to soothe the ache of your heart.

“ you dont understand how your voice is my favorite thing to hear after a game- win or loss. you dont see how when im on long flights home i go through the album of screenshots i have of just of you. you dont even know how good it felt to finally hold you in my arms after wanting to do that for so fucking long. when i say it took every ounce of self restraint i had to just hold you and nothing more when i heard you call out for me i meant that. i dont ever want you to have to want for anything as long as there is breathe in me because you deserve everything.”

hearing this your heart skips a beat. you feel an immense sense of relief at the words and a new found yearning for him, something just short of primal.

“cee,” you say voice barely above a whisper.

“just say the words baby.”

“i need you.”

[avastyetwats]

Fair point. Fet was just so taken aback by his offer, he wanted to make sure. But honestly, he didn't even know if Quinlan was capable of lying or of trickery unless it was to take down an enemy. Used to, Fet didn't even think he knew what a joke was, or what humor, in general, was, until recently when he discovered just how sassy and sarcastic The Born could be. Having been on the receiving end of it and watching it happen to others. It was funny as fuck when it was happening to others, though. He got a kick out of Quinlan annihilating others with his words. That sword on his back wasn't his only weapon.

Oh, shit. He was coming closer. His heart rate was picking up again, beating harder and faster, his blood pumping furiously through his veins. The blush had returned to his face again, too. "But...?" He swallowed, daring to look up into those bright, icy blue eyes, though Fet didn't see any coldness within them in this moment. Nor did he hear it in his voice. In fact, this was probably the softest he's ever heard his voice and it was... doing things to him. Both relaxing and arousing him. He started wondering things... such as the feeling of his skin against Quinlan's, even something so simple such as his hand on Quinlan's arm. Was he cool to the touch? Like vampires were in the fictional stories? No... Fet didn't think so, because standing this close to him, he felt nothing but warmth. But his hand twitched, as though wanting to find out for himself. But even then, his breath wasn't cold. They were close enough for Fet to confirm that much.

“ I would very much like to experience these things with you. “

Oh, the way he said that. And how his eyes remained locked on Fet. That was more than just strigoi and human, that was more than just one species wanting to learn about the other... that was Quinlan wanting to experience things with him, wanting to spend time with him. Wanting to know him. So he... he felt the same way, then? He felt all the things Fet was feeling? He couldn't even respond before Quinlan was then asking if it was a date and he said it with a smile. Not meant to tease him, but a genuine smile. One of excitement at the thought of spending time with him, at the possibility of it being a date. Was it a date?

What kind of stupid question is that, Fet? Your heart is hammering in your chest just from standing so close to him. You're wondering how it would feel to touch him, to hold his damn hand, earlier you were offering your blood to him and questioning if it was orgasmic while imagining it in your own mind and now you're wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

That was answer enough.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I, um," he clears his throat. "I guess it could be, yeah. If that's what you're wanting, uh, hoping it to be." Only if that's what Quinlan also wanted. Assuming he understood what a date was and he seemed to. "But," he sighed. "it would be best to wait until the master is gone. Until the strigoi aren't running the streets. When New York is at it's most beautiful. That's what you deserve." Not like it was now. Overrun with the munchers, the streets and walls stained with blood and bodies. "Besides, you've said it before... we don't have any time to waste." They needed to stop the Master. "After, though." Finally feeling brave enough, he lifted his hand to touch his arm and his heart did a little flutter. "I promise."

Quinlan could both hear and feel his heart beating fast, and it made him wonder. He’d caught him briefly staring at him in a way he wasn’t as familiar with. Perhaps if he could blush, he would have. Those deep eyes of Fet’s could dive deep into your soul. He had to sdmit, for a human he was quite the specimen. Strong, fierce willed, and yet so soft and gentle beneath. It was a combination that he indeed had come to fancy.

He smiled a little to himself. “ Precisely. He’s been targeting silos already and removing the weapons himself. We just have to beat him at his own game. “ But just then, feeling warm, Quinlan changed the subject and for once it was something lighter. “ I-.. could teach you some of these languages if you desired. I’m not exactly fluent in all of them, however my Sunerian is rather good. “ Why was he doing this? Was this an attempt at flirtation? Frankly, he didn’t know how, but something about Fet simply pulled him in:

“ And I assume we’ll have plenty of time for me to show you a few things. We will be out in the wilderness, after all. Besides staying alive, warm, and fed, it may help to pass the time. “

[cementcornfield]

Bro, I know you too much! You fucking taught me everything, Chido, you don't think I know you?

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

[yuujispinkhair]

CAUGHT

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you.

King of Curses!Sukuna x Reader (female). 3k words. 18+, smut, dubcon/noncon in the beginning because Reader was given to Sukuna as a gift against her will. Later it turns into primal play, which both enjoy. Getting chased and caught by Sukuna, rough sex, light choking, Sukuna bites Reader, creampie, squirting, breeding. Sukuna is portrayed in human form (only two arms etc). Minors don't interact. Dividers by me.

This story is inspired by this beautiful fanart by my lovely friend @sweetlandspos. Thank you for blessing me with this sexy picture!

Your breath comes out in soft puffs as you run light-footedly through the forest, only wrapped in a thin, almost see-through white silk robe. The skin on your arms is raised in goosebumps, but not because you are cold. It's the thrill of the chase, anticipating the big, terrifying King to catch you and take you. The thrill of not knowing when exactly he hunts you down and overpowers you. Your lips open in an excited chuckle. Your nipples are stiff and rub against the delicate fabric of your robe. Desire is pulsing hotly between your legs.

You have lost count of how many times you have already run from Sukuna, only to get captured again and brought back to his shrine.

In the beginning, you ran because you were truly trying to escape from this powerful, scary man you had been given to as a gift. Ryomen Sukuna, The King of Curses. The most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Everyone groveled in fear when Sukuna visited a town. He could easily kill anyone and ground the whole place to dust with just a flick of his hand. So, people tried to please him by offering their loyalty, making sacrifices in his name, and bringing him gifts.

And you were one of those gifts.

The only daughter of your town's most prosperous merchant. Your father has always been someone who knows how to negotiate, and he took his chance when he saw Sukuna marching toward your town. He had you dressed up in your most beautiful clothes, your skin adorned with gold and jewels, and then you were led toward the man known as The King of Curses.

Sukuna was pleased with the gift. He placed a large, strong hand on your upper arm and pulled you to his side as a broad smirk spread over his striking features with the black markings. He took you with him and told you he would make you his little bride one day if you behaved well enough. Until then, you would be his favorite pastime.

Your town still stands. No blood was shed. The only sacrifice that was made was you.

Maybe it was selfish, but you were scared of this powerful, cruel man and angry that your father had just offered you to Sukuna as if you were a thing, forcing you to give yourself to Sukuna almost every night so he could find relief in your body after a busy day.

And so you did the selfish thing and tried to escape. You sneaked out at dusk because it was the easiest time to slip away, and there was still enough light so you could find your way through the forest surrounding Sukuna's shrine.

The first time you ran, you came as far as the first line of trees, already thinking you made it. But then you heard the heavy footsteps behind you.

He didn't run. He just walked casually as if he was in no hurry at all. Just a leisurely stroll through the forest. It somehow made things even more terrifying. Only hearing the slow but heavy footsteps of this huge and dangerous man. Hearing the twigs snap beneath his feet. And his low, velvety voice calling out to you, taunting you, making fun of you for thinking you could run from him.

"Are you a little bunny? How amusing that you think you can outrun me. Come on, little bunny, give me your best!"

Sukuna laughed. And you ran as fast as your feet could carry you, your panicky breaths loud in your ear, your heart pounding so fast that you felt delirious. Fear was making the hair on your neck stand up, adrenaline rushing in your veins, making you run faster than you ever had before in your life.

But, of course, it wasn't fast enough. Sukuna let you run yourself to exhaustion that night, always casually strolling behind you as he basked in your fear. An experienced hunter, confident and dangerous.

When he finally had enough of the little cruel game, he snapped his fingers, and you only managed to let out a terrified squeal as you felt his magic wrap around you, paralyzing you. He made time stand still just with a snap of his fingers! His power terrified you, made you weep tearlessly as you stood there frozen in midstep, trapped helplessly as the King of Curses slowly walked up to you.

Sukuna's voice was dripping with amusement and sadistic joy when he stopped behind you,

"Oh, little one, I didn't take you for a playful one. But I am not complaining. This was a nice little distraction. But it's enough now. We're returning to the shrine, and I will show you your place."

He snapped his fingers again, and you stumbled forward, gasping as you caught your balance and instinctively started running again. You only got a few steps away before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around you and lifted you from the ground, even as you screamed and struggled. It was a futile attempt, of course. The King had caught you. You stood no chance.

Sukuna wasn't gentle when he threw you over one of his broad shoulders and carried you back to the shrine. And he also wasn't gentle when he pressed you down on his bed later that night and took you with even more force than usual.

One of his large hands captured both of your wrists and pinned them above your head while his heavy, muscular body pressed you down, knocking the air out of you with every hard thrust. You screamed when Sukuna sank his teeth into your flesh, deep enough to leave his mark on you forever. He healed the wound afterward, but only so much that it would still leave a scar, marking you as his for the rest of your life. A reminder of your failed attempt at running from him.

Maybe for anyone else, it would have been enough reason to give up and be obedient. But not for you. Only three nights later, you sneaked out again, trying your luck again.

And again and again after that. And Sukuna always captured you again.

You don't know when things changed or why, but at some point, you started to run not because you wanted to escape but because you wanted Sukuna to catch you. You wanted him to drag you back to his shrine and fuck you hard into his bed, showing you where you belonged.

"See, that's your place. Under me, stuffed to the hilt with my cock and my seed. You are mine. You are going nowhere. You cannot run from me, little one."

But you took his punishment all too willingly. And all his words did was make you throb around him needily, reaching your high even before him.

Was this still considered punishment when the one getting punished enjoyed it? When you squealed delightedly into the silk pillow that Sukuna pressed your face into as he took you from behind? When you creamed all over him when his hand tangled painfully in your hair and he fucked you savagely, with hard, brutal thrusts, while his sweat and spit dripped onto your naked skin?

He said you could never run from him, and yet you tried it all the time. It became a game. A game of catch. Sukuna was the hunter, and you were the very willing prey.

Your heart still raced wildly anytime you got chased by Sukuna. All your senses were heightened. Your veins sang with adrenaline as you ran through the forest, but your skin was also tingling with excitement, and your thighs were slick from the warm wetness between them, gathering there in anticipation of Sukuna claiming you again.

But you weren't the only one who enjoyed it. As tired as Sukuna sometimes looked after a day of meeting with people who wanted something from him, he was always fully alert and enthusiastic when it came to chasing you through the forest.

His steps were light, his laughter ecstatic, and his beautiful face alight with excitement. Just like his body was brimming with desire. You could feel his hardness pressing against you anytime he captured you, just as aroused as you were. The chase awakened something feral in both of you.

Sometimes, he didn't even wait until he carried you home but just took you right there on the forest floor, grunting in your ear as he mounted you like a wild animal, making you cry out and scream your lust into the night.

And now you are running through the forest in your thin silk robe, a delicious mixture of fear and arousal making your blood sing. Sukuna is taking his time today, and it makes the excitement even stronger.

As always, when you run from Sukuna, your senses are sharpened. Your muscles are taut, your body alert with the thrill of the hunt. He could be on you at any moment.

You wonder what he will do tonight. Use his magic or his strength? Will he tackle you to the ground and ram his cock into your heat, unwilling to wait? Or will he carry you back to the shrine, taking his sweet time to feel you kick and squirm in his strong arms, playfully fighting him, making both of you even more riled up, until it ends in a frenzied fuck in Sukuna's bed?

You strain your ears, trying to catch the sound of Sukuna's heavy footsteps. But there is nothing.

You frown. Where is he? Did he not notice you leaving? You haven't been exactly silent. You never are nowadays. But even when you really tried to escape and sneaked out without making any noise, he still got wind of it and tracked you down.

So why isn't he behind you?

You have almost reached the other end of the forest, and you slow down to a walking pace, looking over your shoulder expectantly. Hopefully. Longingly.

But there is no sign of Sukuna.

Does he maybe want to drag it out? Wait until you are about to set foot out of the forest, just so he can jump you and drag you back? You have reached the edge of the forest and come to a complete halt.

Your throat feels tight, and your heart is beating way too rapidly. But it's not the thrill of the chase that fills you with fear.

He isn't coming.

You hover uncertainly at the edge of the forest, not knowing what to do. You could keep running. You could make it to the river, steal one of the fisherboats, and disappear forever. Just like you originally planned when you first tried to run from Sukuna. You could do it now. You could be free.

But the problem is you don't want to be.

You let out a shaky breath and turn around. This time, you don't run from Sukuna but towards him. Towards his shrine. Towards his home. Your home.

At least, you hope it still is. Or did he get tired of your constant running? Of your stupid games? Is that why he didn't come to catch you tonight? Did he decide he doesn't want a woman like you who always causes trouble? Did he decide he doesn't want you to be his little bride anymore?

A desperate sob escapes your lips. Your feet move even faster now over the soft forest floor, your heart palpitating with fear because you are scared you are too late and Sukuna won't let you come back to him.

It's later than usual, the night is already falling, wrapping the forest into darkness. But you have walked this path so often that you can easily find your way through the tall trees.

Apart from the sound of your harsh breaths and footsteps, the forest is eerily silent. It's strange, you think. One would assume that you would encounter many forest animals at this time, but you can't see or hear any. It's almost as if they are hiding because they sense a much more dangerous predator nearby.

And then, completely out of the blue, a strong arm wraps around your neck, stopping your run abruptly.

Your piercing scream echoes through the forest. Your heart jumps up to your throat, hammering wildly, stars dancing before your eyes from the sudden shock of getting grabbed like that so unexpectedly. Your hands come up instinctively, trying to pry the large hand off your skin, fingernails digging sharply into it, but to no avail.

A familiar low voice announces smugly,

"Caught you, little one."

"S... Sukuna! I didn't hear you coming!"

Sukuna's hand tightens around your throat, squeezing it lightly, making even more adrenaline flood your already overly sensitive body. But it mixes with relief. He came to catch you! He didn't get tired of you!

He laughs softly, a sound almost like a purr, making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Hmm, I was just watching tonight. And I saw the most curious thing. A little bunny that wasn't running from me but towards me."

Sukuna's low voice sounds amused. You feel his tall, broad body press against your back. Feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your robe. He is naked from the waist up, you realize.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and your vision is blurry. Arousal pulses between your legs, wet and hot, filling you with an all-consuming, primal need for the man behind you. The man who was stalking you through this dark forest. Watching you. Hunting you like prey. The man who knows exactly what you did.

You feel shy suddenly. Caught, but not just in the physical sense. Sukuna knows. He knows that you weren't trying to escape from him. He knows that you so desperately want to be his. He heard you sob when you thought he didn't come for you. He saw you stumble back towards the shrine. Back to him.

It makes you feel exposed. Makes you nervous and light-headed. Your voice comes out hoarsely when Sukuna loosens the tight grip around your neck enough to allow you to speak,

"I must have lost orientation."

You can't see it, but you can hear the smirk in Sukuna's velvety voice,

"You think you are so sly, huh, little one? Do you really think I don't know what you are doing?"

His low voice drops to a seductive whisper when he adds,

"This little bunny wants to get caught."

A large, strong hand twists in the front of your robe, and then he tears it off you in one fluid motion. You gasp when the cold air brushes over your naked skin. But Sukuna's large hand immediately comes up again to grope your breasts, cupping them greedily, squeezing them, his long pointy nails scratching over your hardened peaks teasingly, making you whimper with lust.

The night air is chilly, but Sukuna's tall, broad body is warm, and the kisses he trails from your neck to your shoulder are searing hot, just like the desire coursing through your body.

You moan needily, pressing your naked body against the massive man behind you, feeling his warm skin on yours and the huge, hot hardness between his legs pressing against you, pulsing with arousal.

Your legs are shaking when one of Sukuna's large hands trails down your naked body and pushes between your thighs, cupping your cunt for a moment, just holding you, one hand around your throat, the other on your most intimate body part. Truly caught.

He laughs softly when his long fingers dip into your warm cunt, feeling your creamy wetness, evidence of how much his little bunny loves to get chased by him.

Relief and exhilaration flood your senses. Sukuna caught you! He didn't give up on you! He still wants to keep you!

As if reading your mind, Sukuna leans down, his lips brushing over your hair,

"You were so scared I wouldn't come, huh?"

The words are smug, but his voice is full of something else. Something warm, like affection.

He pulls his hand away from your dripping cunt, letting the night air kiss your swollen clit while Sukuna pushes his trousers down. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in short, weak huffs, and a soft whimper falls from your lips.

And then Sukuna snaps his hips, and a loud gasp escapes your mouth when he pushes the swollen head of his heavy cock into you, stretching your tight cunt open around his manhood. With another roll of his strong hips, he claims you completely, burying himself fully in your tight heat.

He lets out a low groan, his strong arms tightening around your much smaller body, pulling you against him, holding you in place as he ruts into you, taking you while standing up, just like he caught you.

Sukuna's low moans grow louder, just like the filthy wet noises of him claiming his prey, mounting you from behind right here where he caught you, filling the otherwise silent forest with the animalistic, primal sounds of fucking.

You push against Sukuna eagerly, moaning when he snaps his hips even faster, fucking you hard and deep. Giving in to his desires after holding back for so long while he stalked you through this forest.

You reach behind you, needing to touch him, whimpering when you get a hold of Sukuna's taut backside, digging your fingernails into the firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin. Your eyes fall shut, and you lean against him, taking his cock eagerly, mewling and sobbing as the pleasure builds deep inside you.

You feel Sukuna tense up behind you. He growls as his hips buck and he fills you with his hot seed, thick spurt after spurt. And your lustful cries echo through the forest as you reach your high, too, clenching around Sukuna's length, milking him greedily. Your arousal sprays everywhere, over Sukuna's cock and onto the forest floor beneath you, while you cry out his name over and over again like a prayer.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you, even after you both found completion. He is still behind you, naked, buff body pressed against yours, his thick cock still deep inside you, breeding you, showing you that you are still his little bride, pulsing the last drops of his orgasm into you while the first rivulets of his warm seed already run down your thighs.

You lean back against him, pulse fluttering, feeling ecstatic after the hunt and after coming undone with your King in the middle of the dark forest.

You can feel Sukuna's broad, muscular chest rising and falling with every breath. His hand around your neck has loosened its tight grip, and the long fingers with the sharp nails lightly caress your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your forehead, his fingers tugging on your hair, pulling your head back against him.

You are so entirely at his mercy, caught in his strong arms, stuffed with his thick cock. But you feel no fear. You know you are safe in your captor's arms.

Sukuna leans down, humming softly before he presses a possessive yet tender kiss into your hair.

"I will always come to catch you and bring you back home, my little bride, no matter how often you run."

And instead of feeling scared by his promise, a pleased smile lifts your lips.

HE MAKES ME FERAL!! 😭😭

I would be very willing to be Sukuna's little bride and his beloved prey, which he chases through the woods ;)

Thank you so much for this sexy pic, Émilie!! I saw it, and my mind went crazy 💗 I will think about this forever! I hope I could make you smile with this little story!!

And thank you so much to everyone, who read this story!! I hope you enjoyed getting chased by Sukuna ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[mune-writes]

for your eyes only

smut under the cut, minors dni

⋆｡°✩ thinking about dick grayson and how he loves his perfect, pretty girl so much. his entire gallery is filled with pictures of you; photos of you that look as if they were taken by a professional photographer with just the right lighting as he captures you in all your good angles (though let’s face it—every angle of you is a good angle, especially to him) for you to post on your social media, others are of the two of you on dates, his hand in yours or at the small of your back, or nights in with the two of you wearing face masks and stuffing your mouths with popcorn as you watch trashy reality TV shows or riveting drama series on Netflix.

most of his gallery, however, is filled with candid pictures of you that he takes when you’re not looking or he snaps at just the right moments in order to capture the memory; you putting on lipgloss as you use your compact, pictures of your eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh heartily at his jokes, or grinning and your eyes twinkling with excitement as you play with the puppy the two of you adopted, or those of you with yours lips pursed and brows furrowed slightly as you concentrated on reading a book or drawing, mind too lost in your imagination and thoughts to notice the his phone’s camera flash in the warm, dim lighting of your room.

but his favorite pictures are concealed in a separate folder, one that requires a password and is guarded by several protections to keep others from potentially seeing or hacking into it. in all honesty though, most of these are videos of you that he likes to look at on those late nights he has to be away from you, just like tonight.

dick’s hand wraps around his cock, thumb rubbing over his thick, leaking tip, copying as best as he could how you’d hold him in your soft hands, pumping his fist up and down his shaft, desperate for some semblance of you as his eyes are glued to his screen, the sounds of his own voice echoing in his earphones (as if he’d ever risk anyone else hearing the sounds you’d make for him).

“pussy’s so good f’me, pretty,” he moans in the video as his hand spreads your folds, watching intently on how your cunt greedily stretches around his cock. “fuck—won’t last long, baby. you’re so fuckin’ tight.” he groans, burying himself inside you as you whine and moan and mewl against his hips snapping at your ass, each of his thrusts causing the fat of it to jiggle, until he finally pulls out, his cum painting your ass with creamy white ropes. but he’s not done yet, not when he scoops up some of it on his fingers and brings it up to your mouth— the good girl that you were for him, your tongue immediately darts out as you suck on his digits, and he lets out another groan; though this time dick isn’t sure if the sound is emanating from the video or from his own lips.

he scrolls through the folder, before landing on his favorite picture of you, knees pressed to your chest, legs spread so beautifully for him, the tip of his cock just a little bit cut off from the frame, your wet hole leaking with his cum, a blissed out, cockdrunk smile on your lips as your eyes catch in the light of the camera’s flash.

just thinking about that time with you is enough to make him finally cum from his own hand, imagining his fist was your tight cunt he loves so much.

he sighs, sweat trickling down his forehead as he slowly comes down from his high—only for him to perk up once again, blood rushing towards his cock when he sees a notification pop on on his screen: a message from you.

‘for your eyes only❣️” it read.

man, was he lucky to have you.

[hollandsangel]

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

[sanriovin]

hear me out on this one y'all.

imagine yourself coming back home from a hard day at work, right? all overwhelmed, exhausted, annoyed at the world, and so on. as soon as you walk into your shared room though, you see a sight you weren't expecting in the least.

your husband, kento nanami, jerking himself off.

poor man, on his one day off, which were EXTREMELY rare for him, you, as luck had it, had to go to work :( and he was all needy and desperate for you, resorting to masturbating, which he never did often, even more so after the two of you became a couple.

his big, strong, calloused hand from the type of jobs he was involved in, wrapped nicely around his aching, pulsing cock, fisting himself, as pathetic, desperate groans and moans of your name and how good he was feeling left his lips, as his hips bucked up further into his hand from the pleasure he was feeling.

his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, head lolling back into the soft, welcoming pillows, dressed in a gentle linen pillowcase, undoubtedly not even realising that you had came home. the sight before you stirred something inside of you, making the exhaustion and annoyance from the day disappear completely, instead, replacing it with a feeling of your own neediness, and a sense of pride, seeing how your husband could fall apart. it gave you ideas. MANY ideas.

"Kento?" you spoke from your spot at the door, your eyes trailing down your husband's half-nude form; his trousers and boxers gone, his tie loosened, three tops buttons undone from the top.

hearing your voice breaking through the sounds of his ragged breathing, loud grunts of pleasure, and the occasional moan or two, his hand came to a stop, his eyes opened wide, looking at you, with shock, embarrassment, and shame. he couldn't even bring himself to hide his body, in a state of processing what had happened.

placing your bag down on the dresser near the door, you took one step, then another, then another, as you approached your shared bed, your eyes locked onto kento, not looking away for even a mere second, in fear that you would miss even the slightest reaction from your normally composed husband.

he swallowed harshly, audibly, slowly moving his hand away from where it was nicely wrapped around previously, placing it down on the linen clad duvet, averting eye contact with you, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, from either the embarrassment, or the physicality and feelings that masturbation brought, or both?

"I'm sorry, darling, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon." he spoke a quiet apology, seeming genuine with it, but how could you even be mad at him? or how could he even think you would be mad at him?

shaking your head, you moved yourself down onto the bed, situating yourself in between his thighs, watching how his adam's apple bobbed with nervousness and excitement, how a dribble of precum ran down his dick with every tremor that ran down his body.

"You're sorry for what, Kento?" you asked, the question being more of a chastise for him even thinking that he needed to apologise for this, rather than an actual question. in all honesty, seeing your husband like this, undone into a puddle of desperation and lust, was something you would kill to see on a daily, so you were definitely not complaining.

taking a single finger, you trailed it down his thigh, inching closer and closer to the one spot that was the key to getting rid of all his frustrations and stress, even if just for a day. he let out a quiet sigh, watching you with eager eyes, silently pleading with you to do something, anything, to relieve the pulsing ache.

"Do you want me to help you, Kento?" you, once again, gave him a question. your voice was sweet, soft, as if lulling him into a sort of haze. your voice worked like a siren's, bringing him in and in, with only mere words. having him wrapped around your pinky. true, most of the time, nanami preferred to be the dominating one, the one in control, however, he also knew how to let himself be taken care of by others, specifically, you.

"Please, honey, please, I need you so badly." his voice was strained, barely managing to hold himself back; hold himself out for long enough for you to do something.

taking that as your sign to continue, you put a coy little smile on your face, lowering yourself to lay comfortably between his legs on the soft bed, before placing one, single, chaste kiss to his angry, red tip.

he let out a groan in response, head falling back, peeking at you from under his eyelashes, hands trembling slightly at the feeling. your kiss felt good, so good, but it wasn't near enough for what he wanted, no, needed.

"Darling you, fuck, tease..." he groaned out, situating himself to rest on his elbows, so he could see you better, and see what you were up to.

you would have teased him for longer, but the look on his face, one of love, neediness, pure eagerness and desire, was enough to pull you out of your teasing and cruel state, and you decided to help your beloved partner, help him release all the stress within him.

opening your lips, you slowly lowered yourself onto his aching, hardened cock, lowering yourself further and further, as you attempted to take him fully, with, as you soon found out, ended futilely on the first go, with uncovered space still left at his base. however, that alone was enough to cause nanami to let out a low moan, pressing his eyes shut again, letting the darkness consume him as he focused entirely on the pleasure he felt in the moment.

the scene was messy. your drool dribbling down nanami's sensitive cock, the tip of it pressed and poked against the back of your throat, trying to push further and further, however, it was stopped through the tightening of your throat, and the sounds of gags and chokes on his large size.

he gently moved one of his hands to rest on your head, not pushing, not pressing down, just trying to ground himself to reality from the immense pleasure he felt. "Sweetheart, it feels so good... You're doing so well..."

nanami kento has a way with words. a way that made you feel eager and excited to pleasure him, to satisfy him, in hopes of getting more and more praise.

trying to breathe through your nose, you slowly relaxed your throat, bobbing your head up and down, attempting to inch further and further down his large dick, holding onto his thighs with trembling hands, as your tongue swirled around his leaking tip, which resulted in a loud, higher pitched moan than before from nanami.

the moan was all you needed to proceed with your actions, desperately trying to bring your beloved to the edge of release, as you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock so well he could practically see stars in his eyes.

taking one of your hands, you gingerly brought it to his balls, beginning to slowly mess and play with them, testing new waters to see if it would have the desired effect on nanami.

and it did not fail.

in mere seconds, nanami was falling apart on the bed, his legs trembling pathetically, his hips jerking up to your mouth, his back on the bed, his arms having lost all strength to support himself. curses, moans, and groans of your name kept spilling from his mouth, as not once did he open his eyes. hot spurts of his cum landed in your mouth, on your tongue, as you began to taste the salty yet slightly bitter taste of it on your tongue.

letting him ride out high long-awaited orgasm, you took all that he gave you, only pulling off once you saw his body laying practically limp on the bed, regaining himself from the experience.

but, of course, he was a gentleman at heart. he wouldn't let such a favour go unrewarded, oh no, he couldn't have that.

"How about you let me pleasure you now, love? What do you say?"

(author's note: finished writing this after finishing AOT S3 - the ending hurt so bad that i couldn't even cry)

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.