#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonson · 1 year

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𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘐𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘗𝘞𝘗, 𝘜𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘹, 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵!𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘷!𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 18+, 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴!𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7

He brings her smaller hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, tugging her back pack strap further up his shoulder as he lets her lead her into the thick cover of the trees, maneuvering habitually under and over low hanging branches and overgrown roots. She’s rambling about something or other, he honestly wasn’t sure.

He was surprised when she found him at his locker between third and fourth period, looking anxious and almost scaring him for a minute.

“I wanna go,” she whispers dramatically, looking around like she was afraid someone would overhear.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, on alert.

“Nothing, I just...I don’t wanna go to class, I wanna leave,” she whispers again, tugging insistently on his sleeve. “But I don’t wanna get in trouble.” He wants to scold her for frightening him like that, but he can’t help but laugh instead. He tugs her close with a gentle hand on the back of her neck, kissing the crown of her head.

“Let’s go,” he says instead, taking her bag from her and grabbing her hand. That was how they ended up here. He lifts her hand high up into the air when he sees she’s about to trip on the same embedded rock that she trips on every time. He’s able to help her avoid it.

“But I just didn’t wanna do the quiz,” she concludes her story, turning to him. “Are you okay with skipping? I hate that I pulled you away, too.”

“Yeah, you’re a real bad influence,” he jokes. She snorts and playfully pushes him. He dramatically clutches the spot where she touched, gasping for air. “Alas, the striking blow as eternally wounded me! How can I recover?”

“Oh, ha-ha,” she says. “I barely tapped you.”

“Quite the contrary, my love, I think you left a bruise.” Eddie said, pulling the collar of his shirt to peek inside.

“We’re here!” she chirps, letting go of his hand to race towards the small table, their spot. He smiles affectionately, seeing her take a seat in her usual spot, smiling pleasantly at him and patting the spot next to her.

“You’ve convinced me” he says. He disposes her bag carefully onto the table, slipping his long legs over the bench and pressing himself up against her side. She giggles fondly, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“What’d you bring me for lunch?” he asks, tugging on the back pack and unzipping it. She swats at his hands as he begins to dig through it, running his hands over notebooks and a few novels he knew she was thumbing through during study hour. Sure enough, he finds a small plastic container and pulls it out.

“Strawberries?” he asks with a laugh.

“And blueberries,” she says defensively, grabbing the container from him.

“Sounds good, open ‘em up.”

She smiles and obliges, popping the top and setting the container down so he could pick at it. She goes to grab for a strawberry, and he swiftly swats her hand next, grabbing it and holding it up. She smiles coyly at him, going to grab it. Quickly he holds it out of reach.

“Eddie.”

“Baby,” he sings. “let me, please?”

“I can feed myself.”

“I know you can, I just like feedin’ you is all. Now, say ah,” Eddie insists. She rolls her eyes, but she obliges. He pops the strawberry into her mouth, keeping it between his thumb and forefinger so she could only bite off the tip. She smiles, chewing. He takes the other half and finishes it. The sweet taste bursts on his tongue, but he can’t help but focus more on her, licking her lips and reaching for a blueberry next. She holds it up to him, her intentions pretty clear.

He grins and he takes it from her, catching her index finger between his lips. She lets it linger for a moment before slipping it into her mouth next, sucking off the excess juices.

“Shit, babe,” Eddie sighs, watching her closely. She giggles. “That the real reason you wanted to play hooky? Huh?”

“Not the only reason, I also got really hungry,” she says, reaching for another strawberry. He catches her wrist, his grip tight but not tight enough to hurt. She looks innocently up at him. “Something wrong?”

“Depends,” Eddie mumbles, dipping his head low to press soft kisses up the column of her throat. “Still hungry?”

“Not for strawberries,” she sighs, angling her head so he’d have more room.

“No? Not for strawberries?” he coos, lightly running his tongue across her jaw. This close, her perfume was much more intoxicating, making him a little hazy, like he’d just lit one up right there beside her. “What’re you hungry for, baby?”

“Don’t make me say it,” she protests.

He stops as sudden as he started.

“Eddie!” she whines.

“Hey,” he says sternly, using his free hand to grab her by the jaw, trying to get her eyes to focus on him. “Hey, you know me, sweetheart. I won’t do anything unless you tell me what you want. Not a mindreader.”

“No, you’re just a tease,” she grumbles.

“What was that?” Eddie asks. She huffs, her perfect lips puckered up by the way he held her. He was tempted to lean down and claim them, but he wanted to get his way. He would get his way, he always did. Sometimes she just needed a little coaxing.

“I want you,” she says pathetically. “I’m hungry for you.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” he mocks. He suddenly stands, hoisting her up onto the table. She squeaks in surprise. “Think we should make sure you’re nice and ready before we jump into the main course, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes,” she says eagerly. He laughs, at last granting her a kiss. She tastes like strawberries and blueberries, especially her tongue. He grunts, gripping at her waist as a way to ground himself, slotting his knee between her legs, balancing himself on the bench best he could. They’d done this before, but he still sometimes struggled with his footing. He still couldn’t forget the time he fell off when she’d wanted to be on top. She had enough sense to catch herself on the edge of the table, but he wasn’t so fortunate, trying to ignore the ants biting at his bare ass.

Still, you learn from your mistakes.

With her mouth distracted, he rubs his hands up and down her abdomen, catching the top of her skirt. He remembers the small hook in the front, having removed this garment three times before. He seemed to get quicker every time. He was almost tempted to ask her to leave it on, but he really wanted to see her completely bare to him.

“Please, Eddie,” she pleads against his lips, trying to lift her hips to help. He doesn’t thank her. This was his job and his burden, she shouldn’t have to lift a finger. He’s nice enough to leave the skirt beside them and not on the grass where there were still ants. Her underwear was thin and lacy, nothing she’d usually wear to school. Clearly she had planned all of this. That little nervous act she’d played by his locker didn’t feel so authentic now.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles, hooking his thumb on either side and gently pulling down. She lifts her hips for him again, but this time he settles with shoving them into his back pocket. She goes to protest, saying she couldn’t go home without them, but the scolding is lost on her tongue as he leans down and spreads her thighs with his hands, exposing her lower half to him.

She squeaks and hides her face when he leans down and takes a deep sniff. She hated it when he would do that, it was embarrassing and gross, she’d claim. He always reminded her if he was willing to put his mouth on it, taking a sniff or two shouldn’t be that much different or intimate.

“God, you’re so wet,” he whispers, his lips brushing hers, making her flinch from the contact. “What’s got you like this, sweetheart? S’just me? Hm? Thought about me taking this sweet pussy with my mouth? Or was it my dick? Which was it?”

“Either, Eddie, God! Please do something,” she begs, tired of the waiting.

He decides he can’t be crueler for much longer, not when he had her this close to his mouth. Fuck the strawberries and blueberries. He was sure nothing was as sweet as her pussy.

He bends forward and licks up a thin stripe. She shivers.

“Keep your legs spread,” he commands, releasing her thighs to open up her lips further for him, giving him the beautiful sight of her clit, her little hole waiting to be filled. She whimpered above him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was now just between him and her aching pussy.

Without much else to stop him, he at last buries his face deep inside, sloppily moving his tongue around her hole, dipping it inside occasionally before moving up and sucking her clit into his mouth, greedily keeping it between his lips as he shakes his head. That always made her go crazy. Sure enough, she was crying out, her hands flying to the back of his head and lightly tugging at his hair.

He groans, releasing her clit and moving back to her hole, slurping whatever she had to give, just the taste of her enough to get him high, thinking of nothing other than trying to go deeper, trying to get as much of her on his tongue as possible. All the while she was a moaning mess above him, throwing her head back, trying to keep her thighs spread like he’s asked of her.

“Eddie...God, Eddie,” she cries, bucking her hips, begging for more friction.

“You taste so fucking good,” he manages to get out before he’s suckling at her clit again, grazing it with his teeth. “Think I could just spend the whole day eating your delicious pussy. Get my face nice and wet, huh? All you’d be able to taste on my lips is you.”

“Eddie,” she whines.

“Gotta get you ready for my cock, baby, make sure you’re nice and open so it doesn’t hurt. Wouldn’t wanna hurt my baby, never,” he mumbles, slipping a finger inside with little trouble from how messy he’s made her. She gasps and keens, moving her hips as a way to get him to move. And it was just his finger.

He gives into her as he always, though. He moves his hand fast, still playing with her clit with his mouth. After a while he’d add a second finger, then a third. By the fourth her pussy is making nice little wet noises, almost louder than her noises. That was always one of his favorite things, when he can just hear how wet and messy she is.

“Eddie, I-I’m close,” she whimpers. “I’m so close.”

Quickly, he slides his hand from her as well as his mouth, taking a step back. His face is nice and shiny now from her essence, and his hand is almost dripping.

“W-Wait, why?” she cries.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos again, reaching for his belt and undoing it. “Usually I’d love for you to cum all over my face, but my dick wants to get wet, too. You want that? My dick?”

“Mm, yes, Eddie, I want that,” she says, nodding her head.

“Yeah, I knew you would. Need something nice and big to fill you up, make you feel nice and full, huh?” he asks, unbuttoning and at last pulling out his hard cock. He stifles a whimper at how sensitive it is. Just from eating her pussy it’s already rock hard. With what she left on his hands, he uses it to stroke himself, balancing himself back on the bench and yanking her down so her hips dipped over the edge of the table.

“Put it inside, Eds, come on,” she says. “I know you want something nice and tight, too. You need to cum, too.”

“Fuck baby, hang on a sec,” Eddie says, trying to catch his breath. It would always catch him by surprise when she’d talk dirty. It was so different to how she usually was, so innocent, so sweet. But his girl was really naughty, you had to watch her.

Eddie taps his dick against her pussy, catching her clit and making her twitch.

“Stop teasing,” she begs him.

“Sorry, baby, couldn’t help myself.” Eddie laughs, at last pushing himself inside. It takes him a moment to adjust, let alone her. It was always so hard to hold back and resist from pounding into her. She was this tight, wet channel, so damn hot and perfect for him. And maybe one day he would. Maybe one day he’d say fuck it and just take his pleasure for himself, use her as nothing more than a cock sleeve.

But her blissed out face and the way she clung to him made him realize making her feel good felt better. There was nothing quite like it.

“You good?” he makes sure to ask. She can’t speak, so she nods. He chuckles and kisses her, at last moving his hips. She moans into his mouth, hugging him tighter. He moves a little faster, finding a good enough pace that has him grunting and crying out into her mouth. “O-Oh, fuck. Yes, that’s it, baby girl. Fuck, so tight. So hot. Such a good pussy.”

“Eddie,” she babbles. It’s all she can say. He leaves her lips at last to look down and stare where they were attached, his cock disappearing and reappearing, always wetter than previous. His balls slapped soundly against her as he moved faster, taking one of his hands to rub at her clit.

She cries out louder, her voice nearly echoing off the trees as she grips the edge of the picnic table, spurring him on to thrust harder, to now pinch her clit so she’s writhing and begging him to let her cum. All she wants to do is cum, he needs to let her.

“Why should I, baby?” Eddie asks. “We’d have to stop. And I don’t wanna stop, I wanna keep fucking you.”

“Ed-die,” she sputters. “Let me cum, baby, please. I need it so bad.”

“Nah,” he says, grinning maliciously. “I wanna cum first.”

“Eddie!”

“Let me cum first, baby, let me paint your walls and then I’ll let you cum, cum all over your dick,” he promises. She whines. But he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. He’s moving faster, harder, he has to grip her hips just to keep her from moving up. “That’s it baby, just let me use you. Get me to cum and you will, too.”

“Inside, Eddie, do it inside!”

Eddie groans loudly, hips stuttering as he feels himself empty deep inside her. It’s all hotter now, his juices mixed with hers, but he still needs to fulfill his end of the promise, and soon he’s quickly slipping out and bending down, reattaching his mouth to her clit and slipping two fingers back inside, both to keep her plugged up and help her along.

She practically screams, bucking her hips harshly into him as he keeps her clit inside his mouth while his fingers do the rest of the work. Soon he feels her clench hard around him and her cries have turned into little whimpers. Her hips were even twitching.

“Mm, fuck,” he says. “That was...”

“Yeah,” she says with a small laugh. “Eddie...Jesus, you were...”

“Try not to feed my ego right now, babe, I’ll need a minute,” Eddie laughs, hoisting his jeans back up over his hips. She carefully sits up, but she’s a little wobbly. He quickly puts a hand across her lower back. “Hey, give yourself a minute there, love.”

“You’re probably gonna have to carry me back, you know,” she warns.

“Eh,” he shrugs, grabbing another strawberry from the forgotten container. “What’s a little extra weight? Think I burned a few calories buried inside you.” She slaps his arm.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader smut #smut #st eddie

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aezuria · 1 month

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*ੈ✎ everybody talks!

"it started with a whisper, and that was when i kissed her!" —neon trees

note: fun fact this was supposed to be titled friends by chase atlantic but then i started going for a cliche hs romance vibe cause i went and listened to a 90s playlist um ANYWAYS @hopelesslyromanticshark HEYYY TWIN SURPRISE MAYBE?? IT WAS ME ALL ALONG 😈😈 ps this doubles as my apology for the pronunciation confusion FORGET I EVER STARTED THAT

content: leo valdez x reader, childhood best friends to lovers, mortal au; oneshot, 4.3k words

warnings: jealousy, little bit of angst (typical teenage drama 🙄), like one mention of not wanting to live, cursing, google translated spanish, lots of pov switches (my bad 😓), vague spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes (like two lines abt it), clumsy confessions, denial (is it really denial if you just suck at feelings??)

"that was supposed to be my ice cream!" you marched up to a curly-headed boy, face scrunched up in childish anger. your parents were too busy catching up with friends to notice that you had strayed off.

said curly-headed boy turned to the sound of a shrill voice, his eyes meeting a pouty face with cheeks red in the summer heat. he raised the cone in his hand a bit higher. "this one?"

you nodded eagerly, hoping he was going to give it to you. "yeah!" you stretched out your hand to grab it from him, but the boy pulled it away at the last second.

he smiled mischievously, dimples flashing as he stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe up the stacked swirls of ice cream. "too bad!"

you gasped at the utter audacity of the other child, your bottom lip starting to tremble. one sniffle. two. soon, you were downright bawling on the sidewalk. the boy’s jaw dropped, his feet taking panicked little steps in place as he looked around.

"hey! hey, you can't cry! i'll ask my mama to buy you one!" he squeaked, trying to comfort you. he patted your back, which was quite hard to do with him bouncing around and holding an ice cream cone.

your sobs were quickly reduced into a sniffle as you blinked at him. "..really? and you're not gonna steal it this time?"

he nodded enthusiastically. "yep! i mean, no! i won't steal it!" he took your hand and ran to his mom, dragging you along.

you ran behind him, your tears replaced with excitement at the newly promised ice cream.

"mama!" the boy called out, stopping in front of a kind-looking woman who looked just like him. "meet my new friend!"

you smiled a bit shyly at the lady, giving her a wave.

she returned the gesture with a smile of her own, before facing the boy with a slight frown. "leo! sus padres podrían estar buscándola! did you ask her parents if she was allowed to go with you?" she chided, pinching his ear lightly.

leo cried out as his mother pinched his ear, even though he barely felt it. "no..! but le debo un helado!" he whined, shaking your interlocked hands for effect. "can you buy her one mama? pleaseee?"

she sighed in defeat, giving into two pairs of puppy eyes. "alright, alright. but we find her parents first, okay? what's your name?" she gave you a little wink, taking your other hand.

"i'm y/n!" you said with a bright smile as she agreed to get you a new ice cream. "my mommy and daddy are over there!" you pointed to a spot not too far from where you stood.

leo's mom nodded, leading your little trio in the direction you said. soon enough, you were reunited with your parents, who gave you a gentle scolding and thanked her. she explained the situation between you and leo, at which all the parents laughed at, much to your confusion. what was so funny about getting your (well, not exactly yours but you had your eyes on it, so, it was technically yours) ice cream stolen?

whatever, at least you got it at the end of the day—and a new friend!

ever since then, the two of you stuck together like glue. if elementary school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would throw a hissy fit. if your high school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would make up some elaborate bullshit about how well you guys work together and how productive the two of you would be (you were sure they never believed it, but they paired up the both of you anyway).

"like i know she probably didn’t get enough love as a child or something but does she have to take it out on her students? why even be a teacher?” you waved your hand in the air, the mess of papers on the desk long forgotten.

"exactly, like she really needs therapy." leo took his bite-ridden pencil out of his mouth to add a point.

"totally,” you agreed. “too bad it’s so expensive, otherwise-“

a cough behind you made you and leo turn around, already dreading the punishment about to befall you. you smile sheepishly at your history teacher, who had her arms crossed. "another word and i'll send you two to detention, you hear?"

the both of you shut your mouths and nodded in sync, waiting until she turned around to whisper. "she's feeling merciful today."

"detention!"

guess not.

you slumped against the desk, resting your head against your arms and sighed loudly. the teacher in charge of detention for the day gave you a glare, turning the page to his boring book about finance or something. you rolled your eyes once he looked away, and looked up at the clock. five more minutes.

you tapped a message on the desk, the morse code leo forced you to learn coming in handy once again. i'm so bored.

leo's head perked up from the similar slouch he was in. me too.

i'm coming over. you rapped your finger against the smooth wood. you were hungry just thinking about him and his mom's tacos. if you didn't know how much leo wanted to be a mechanic, you'd probably beg him to open a restaurant.

a little forward aren't you? he drummed his fingers back, raising his eyebrow.

just as you were about to reply, you were cut off with a "shh!" from the teacher, who then looked at his watch. he gave it a scowl, but motioned for the two of you to leave. "you're free to go."

the two of you raced to the door, eager to get out of the stuffy classroom.

"oh my gosh i thought he was never gonna let us leave!" you groaned, tugging on your backpack straps as you walked home with leo.

"i know! can't believe he wasted our precious hanging out time like that!" leo scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder.

you laughed, shoving him back. "exactly!"

the two of you walked in peaceful silence, up until leo tapped you on the shoulder and shouted, "tag, you're it!" and ran off ahead.

who runs with a backpack on? you didn't care, chasing after him and trying to get him. "not fair!" you yelled.

sprinting all the way, you made it to his house, panting and out of breath. as he leaned against the doorway, you smacked him upside the head. "you're it."

you didn't want to spend your friday afternoon doing extra work, but leo wanted the help and who were you to deny him? you knew it'd probably end up with the two of you on the couch, curled up next to each other and watching a (usually) pirated movie.

"so," leo started. you two were sprawled on your stomachs, doing homework on his wooden floor.

"what is it now?" you exhaled with exaggeration, not looking up from your book. your english teacher had said to read two chapters, but was that really enough? you were too invested, completely forgetting that you were supposed to help him analyze it.

"..wanna take a break?" he was already getting to his feet, looking down at you with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you pretended to think. "hm, i don't know... shakespeare's getting really interesting..." you shrugged and turned back to your book.

leo pouted. "seriously!? he just spews random bullshit and everyone thinks its poetic!"

you kicked his foot, not letting the insult slide. "you know what? now i'm really not gonna take a break."

"oh come on! if i make you birria tacos will you come with me? my mom's been simmering the meat since earlier," he bargained, waggling his eyebrows.

"..maybe."

"holy shit." you moaned in bliss as you took a bite of one of the tacos leo had so kindly prepared. he chuckled at your reaction, it was the same every time he made it.

he grinned proudly, taking his plate from the coffee table and setting it on his lap. "good, right?" he switched on the tv, resting his other arm on the back of the couch.

you let out an unintelligible noise of agreement, mouth stuffed. you swallowed. "can we watch the new hunger games movie?"

he hummed, taking out his laptop and searching for it on some illegal website. "again? we already watched it in the theaters."

you rolled your eyes. "yes, again. it's my turn to pick."

his lips quirked up the slightest. "yeah, yeah." he clicked on the movie, connected his laptop to the tv and pressed play.

the two of you were watching intently as coriolanus snow kissed lucy gray like a starved man.

"goddamn," you breathed out.

"i know." leo nodded, his eyes flicking to you for a moment. your legs were folded under the blanket you guys shared. during the duration of the movie, the two of you had somehow huddled closer together, probably due to the cold, he thought. his arm was now over your shoulder, your knees touching his.

he felt something stir in his heart. maybe it was the kissing scene, maybe it was the underlying feeling of sadness that came with winter, but god did he suddenly get overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting a girlfriend. he'd probably flirt with every girl in the world if it meant he could find true love. he suddenly felt hyper-aware of the way you were nestled in his arms, of the casual way you two touched each other. leo would love to do these things in a romantic sense. but, not with you, of course. i mean, you were his bestest friend, it'd be weird to think otherwise.

your heart fluttered wildly as you played it cool, not letting the way his legs were intwined with yours affect you. you didn't know exactly when you started feeling this way, all you knew was that something about his touch never failed to send you sparks of fire.

but fire burns.

you heard leo suck in a breath. "you know your friend alicia?"

you froze, the butterflies in your stomach turning into ash. "yeah, she's my friend, 'course i'd know her."

"great, so you wouldn't mind setting me up with her, right?" he winked at you, tugging at the ends of your hair.

you bit your tongue, mood dampening. why did he always have to ruin the moment by asking about some other girl? i mean, am i not enough or something? "..i'll think about it."

he frowned. usually you'd agree right away. "is that a yes?"

"i told you i'd think about it, now can we just watch?" you turned back to the tv, eyes looking but not seeing.

leo didn't seem to get the hint, still pushing the topic. "why think? it's not like you haven't done it before! are you really not gonna help your best friend out?"

"maybe i'm really not," you said sarcastically. it was getting more and more difficult to keep the irritation from your voice, and he was already starting to notice.

"whoa, okay, what're you so mad about?" he took his arm off your shoulder, turning to face you directly. "did i say something wrong?"

"nope."

he took your sardonic tone as your usual sarcasm and kept prodding. "okay... so you'll help me then? i mean, that's all you're for! you don't wanna be my best friend and do your job?" he laughed, poking fun at you like usual. but the feeling in your gut twisted his offhand comment in a way that hurt.

"if you're just gonna keep me around to set you up with a bunch of girls then maybe i don't want to be your friend anymore!" you snapped, agitation finally breaking the thin mask of patience you had.

leo set down his empty plate on the table, needing to give his hands something to do. "i was just- you know that's not why you're my friend!" he chuckled incredulously.

you stayed silent, letting his words dissolve in the air.

his eyebrows furrowed at your lack of response, as if trying to decipher the finality of your words. "you don't.. you don't mean that do you?"

"maybe i do." you stood up, the blanket falling off your legs. you grabbed your backpack, a reminder of what you guys were supposed to be working on.

leo quickly followed suit, springing to his feet and speeding after you as you walked towards the front door. "wait! i was just kidding! c'mon we can talk about this!" a hint of desperation seeped into his voice as he grabbed your wrist.

"we already did." you shot him a glare over your shoulder. he froze. he'd never seen that aimed at him. playful irritation, sure, but never that. not to him. his hand dropped your arm in shock, and you took your leave.

"i said, are you trying to kill me!?" the tv was still on.

the walk to school was quiet without leo, that you'd admit. you even got up a half hour early just so you wouldn't see him. yeah, it was a little petty, but you weren't exaggerating in your words. he had other friends, you had other friends—you're choosing to ignore the fact that half of them were mutual—you guys would be fine without each other. especially you.

except you forgot the fact that you guys were seated next to each other for nearly all your classes. that was awkward. everyone around you sensed the tension in the air, with you pointedly looking away from leo, at the board, and him trying to do the same. you could feel his leg shake the table as he bounced his knee, as well as the side glances he gave you.

even so, you continued to ignore him and the stupidly cute way his lips pursed into a frown. you weren't getting over it that easy.

leo fucked up. like, seriously fucked up. he hasn't fucked up this bad since.. well, since his invention quite literally blew up in his face. but this? this was like your friendship figuratively blew up in his face! and it felt even worse. he took a deep breath, rolling over in his bed with his blanket half-off. he brought the fabric up to his nose, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume that had stayed since last friday. without you, his thoughts felt louder than usual. they ran free in his mind, ranging from what should i eat for dinner? to god, did i mess up our whole friendship? was i taking her for granted when i kept asking her for relationship advice? why did i even do that? i didn't even really like any of those girls. what's wrong with me?

he curled up into a ball, squeezing the blanket to his chest and burying his face in it. leo willed himself to cry, but no tears would come. the overwhelming feeling in his chest had no way to escape. his heart thumped heavily, each painful beat reminding him of why he should've never been allowed to live.

"...and that's why you should- hey! are you even listening?" piper frowned, raising an eyebrow at leo, who was picking at his food.

he didn't answer, too busy moving the gross cafeteria food around his tray as he drooped against the table.

"okay, i know that you've got your little lover's quarrel with y/n, but you've gotta stop sulking and start doing." piper crossed her arms, eyeing him with a very unimpressed look. "did you seriously not hear a word i said? talk to her! apologize! it's been a week already!"

leo groaned, his head resting in his arms. “i know! and- wait did you just say ‘lover’s quarrel!?’” his head shot up, face feeling warm all of a sudden. “pipes, she’s just a friend! like you!”

piper gave him a disbelieving hum. “‘just a friend’ my ass! everyone can see how you look at her!” that’s why all the girls you make her set you up with never go on a second date.

leo genuinely looked confused. “what? i look at her normally, what are you talking about?”

jason, who was silent throughout the whole exchange, chortled a laugh. the two whipped their heads to him, the sudden noise from him surprising. "are you serious? leo, i don't think even i'm that oblivious!" he shared a look with piper that only the two would understand. ugh. another couple thing leo feels he'll never get.

leo's eye twitched. "oblivious about what? y/n's my best friend, i don't see what's so weird about that!"

the pair sighed. "you'll get it one day," jason said firmly, clapping him on the shoulder with solemn resolution.

"okay..?"

a whole week. leo had never gone without talking to you for a whole week! this was driving him insane! yeah, he knew you were mad at him and by default, he was supposed to be mad at you, but it was too much! next period, leo thought resolutely. i'll get her to talk to me next period. which just so happened to be his last period because although he had been thinking of this the whole day, he was too nervous to confront you earlier. he took a deep breath in and walked into chemistry class.

fate must hate him. or maybe his science teacher. right when when he slipped into his seat beside you, she clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. "class! today were going to be switching seats!" leo swore he saw her look at him as he said that. what did he ever do to her!? his heart sunk as he realized he might not sit next to you anymore. surely the teacher's gonna keep us together? i mean, they've all done that since like, the start of the year! she won't be any different.. right?

oh he was so wrong. leo pouted in his spot at the back of the class, watching you from across the room as you chatted it up with some jock. why is she being so smiley!? isn't she supposed to be mad? i mean, yeah, she's only mad at me, but doesn't that mean she's supposed to be grumpy in general!? why am i the only one who looks affected by this!?

the girl next to him cleared her throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. "uh, we need to start the experiment," she said without emotion, as if the mere action of talking to him was boring. seriously, why did everyone hate him today? it's not like they know anything that happened!

"oh.. right." leo took his notebook out and set it to the side, moving the vials to the center of the desk. he felt the girl's stare dig into his side, like she was looking at him with disdain. leo sighed. this was going to be a long period.

how did leo even end up here? parties weren't really his thing. he only came because he heard that you'd be here, but you were nowhere to be seen. leo leaned against a wall, trying not to look like a complete loser as he stood by himself. he took out his phone, navigating to his trusty weather app. where were you? if not you, then jason and piper? even percy or annabeth would do! they're probably each hooking up in a bathroom or something.. he thought with a grimace, trying to get the mental picture out of his head. leo wandered around with a cup of fanta, hoping to see you in the crowd.

you sipped from your red solo cup, the bubbly taste of soda delightfully stinging your tongue. this party's kinda boring... it'd be more fun with- you cut off your thoughts with a shake of your head. whatever. you had girl friends you could hang out with. as you made your way to them, a tap on your shoulder got your attention.. is it..? you turned around. it wasn't. you ignored the feeling in your stomach and smiled at the familiar—but not familiar enough—face of your new seatmate.

"oh hey! i didn't know you were coming!" you greeted with a smile.

he laughed, raising his eyebrow. "you think i'd miss this? i mean, look at me!" he gestured to himself quite vainly. "i throw these kinds of parties!"

you chuckled, nodding along to be polite. "uh, yeah, for sure!"

the both of you fell into an awkward silence that seemed to stretch out for forever.

leo spotted you across the room, the chatter around him seeming to die down as he saw you with that guy. i mean, seriously, he wasn't even your type! and, he'd know your type! like, weren't you guys just talking shit about jason's football friends? you could do so much better. like.. like me. leo's eyes widened. holy fuck. that's it! the feeling in his chest was akin to tightening the last screw of his project. the words his two friends had said to him earlier came rushing back with sudden clarity. they day he finally got it was sooner than expected. with a determined blaze in his heart, he slipped through the crowd and made his way to you.

you took the lull in your conversation as a sign to go to your other friends. "so, i'm gonna-"

"hey, i was going to-" he started.

the both of you stopped mid-sentence after speaking at the same time. you guys laughed it off, with you waving off his muttered apology.

"you can go first," you said, dipping your head at him to continue.

he cleared his throat, looking into your eyes intently. "well, i was wondering if you'd wanna go ou-"

"y/n!" leo strode up to you as if the fight between the two of you had never happened.

your face scrunched up in confusion, too perplexed to remember that you were supposed to be ignoring him. "leo? what are you-" he cut you off, directing his words to the other guy.

"hey, sorry if i interrupted something, but i gotta talk to y/n for a sec," leo flashed his teeth, mischievous dimples showing.

the jock's eyes widened as he took a step back. "oh.. oh, my bad man! i didn't think you guys were- are you really?" he laughed with obvious embarrassment, shaking his head as he retreated. "guess so.." he muttered under his breath as he faded into the crowd.

leo's hand slipped around your waist as he weaved the both of you in between people. his jaw was clenched, a sight you've only seen when he was concentrated on one of his many inventions. "what the hell are you doing?" you repeated your question, ignoring the way his touch sent familiar sparks down your spine. you shied away from it, half to push away your feelings and the other to keep up your fight out of pure pettiness.

his hand twitched as you moved away, his eyes narrowing as he stared straight ahead. but leo made no move to grab you again, ever the gentleman. "just come with me. please."

his tone itself was enough to make you listen to him without question. never had you seen him so.. serious. you found yourselves in an empty guest room, music thumping softly behind the walls.

"y/n," leo murmured, finally speaking as he turned around. his eyes were shifty, looking everywhere but directly into yours. you could see the way he chewed on the inside of his lip, as if rehearsing the words he had yet to say.

"i- i don't want you to talk to that guy." he blurted out after a beat of silence. his cute face wasn't enough to distract you from his words, however.

"excuse me?" you stared at him, your rose-tinted glasses shattering immediately.

leo shifted on his feet, realizing how off-putting he sounded. "not- not like that! sorry, i mean like-" he swallowed thickly, his leg starting to bounce.

"fuck i really suck at this, huh?" he muttered under his breath, before daring to look into your eyes.

"i mean i want you to talk to me instead because.. i like you. i want to be the one you talk to, like we used to. but- more than that because i like like you." he fumbled over his words, trailing off at the end as his eyes dipped down once again.

what? you opened your mouth to answer but he beat you to it to continue.

"i'm really sorry for how i acted like a jerk. and taking you for granted and making you set me up with practically every girl you knew. to tell you the truth, i don't know why i did that, 'cause i never really like any of 'em. or i thought i did and then i just, didn't and-" he would've rambled on forever if you hadn't cut him off with a kiss.

you heard him squeak in the back of his throat, hands tensing at his sides before gingerly wrapping around your waist, as if he was scared of messing up again. the both of you pulled away after a soft minute, his disbelieving eyes staring back at your playful expression. boy, did he miss the way you looked at him like that.

"took you long enough." you laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. "better not make me set you up with anyone ever again."

his face broke into a wide grin, never faltering even as you punched him. he brought you back into his arms, hugging you tightly. "the only person i'd want to be set up with is you." he drew back only slightly, his hands trailing up your body until he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks gently. "so? will you let me take you on a date?"

your smile was one that rivaled the sun, one he'd like to center his world around forever. "are you kidding? obviously!"

the kiss he gave you after was one you'd remember forever.

("twenty bucks jason, pay up!" piper whispered, peering through the crack in the door.

"..fuck.")

#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #hoo #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #*ੈ✎ stories

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cheezbites · 7 months

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Dating König PT.2

✎: couldn’t get enough of my husband so here’s part twoo🥹!! (part one linked here)

♡Summary: Headcanons of dating König PT.2

*+:｡.｡<3｡.｡:+*

Bf!König would bounce his knee whenever he felt anxious - another one of his harmless, repetitive habits. He felt helplessly cold and restricted when things get too overwhelming; bouncing his knee was superficially warming him up. He doesn’t even realise he does it at times as he’s too occupied by thinking about the overflowing emotions.

That was until you steadied a gentle, reassuring hand on his shaky knee. Only one of his trembling body parts could easily decipher how the rest of him felt - pressured, distracted and stressed. He found himself stopping - like you were some medicine that instantly cured an excruciating headache. You warmly smiled at him, making eye contact. His gaze lingered on your hand for a while, like you miraculously calmed an uncontrollable sea with your delicate fingertips. He’s rarely ever been handled so divinely, especially being in the military. His frown and previously tense muscles almost instantly vanished and transitioned into a grateful smile as he looked at you. You were so warm and gentle to him. He wants to feel this electric dopamine kick over and over again, he doesn’t plan on ever parting from it - parting from you. There was a euphoric comfort in your touch.

“‘You okay?” you asked, your tone ever so sweet and genuine.

“’m okay now, Liebling.”

Bf!Konig loved your hugs, he’s so large and muscular in comparison to you. You loved engulfing in his scent and warmth, especially after stressful days at work. It boosts your mood almost instantly knowing you have a human teddy bear at home to return to. You remained glued to him, melting into his touch - skin to skin. He could be minding his business as he’s laying in bed and you’re suddenly crawling on top of him and wrapping your arms around him. Knowing you have him (and his godsent figure) made your heart so content.

He loves knowing you love him.

Feeling sad? Cuddles. Feeling happy? Cuddles. Bored? Cuddles. His heartbeat against yours is to live and die for. You were already used to feeling him whenever you’re feeling sad; his arms wrapping around you, his head resting on your neck as he comfort you, his heart beat and warmth against yours.

Bf!Konig saved a cat from a high tree, he was so gentle in doing so, too - reassuringly cooing praises and reaching his arms out to catch them. The cat gradually gave in and trusted him like they knew him their whole life. His height most definitely has perks that you swoon over. You had an unexpected bond over cats, too. You never saw him being a cat person, but it works.

You sent each other pictures of cats you spot when you’re out and about to mutually obsess over how cute they are. He’d most definitely have an almost eery talent of spotting any cat’s breed with no effort.

Y/N: This one’s a cutie, so skinny tho :(( they’re prolly starving

König: Siamese’s are very thin kittens so they just look xtra skinny when hungry😢

Y/N: This is the 8th time this week…

Y/N: nerd.

(König ❤️ reacted your message).

Bf!König is used to the contradictory pet names you give him, they’re all so sweet and girly, opposing his tough and rugged experiences where he’d endure ruthless and boisterous battle fields like it’s nothing. He never admits to the butterflies in his stomach to the sound of your voice calling him sunflower, sugar or sweetie.

That was until you made them satirically cheesy as you ask him for favours:

“My honey sugar sunflower baby bear,” you called, sickly sweet, grinning at him.

“Hm?”

You were genuinely surprised he even replied to that - you thought he’d just ignore you until you dropped these nicknames and addressed him properly - but he was already used to your shenanigans.

“Can you get my phone?”

“Sure,”

“Thank you honey bun sugar muffin,” you replied, the pet names easily rolling off your tongue like they were just meant for König.

He only scoffed at your teasing and made a poor attempt at hiding his smile before standing up to get your phone.

Bf!König is so considerate with his gifts. If there’s anything you’ve been raving about or if you stared at something for too long as you were shopping together it’ll be delivered right to you in the next 2-3 business days. He’s also really observant about your likes, dislikes and oddly specific things you’re infatuated with. You smiled from ear to ear and felt irrepressibly giddy each time he buys you gifts or spoils you. As you wore whatever he got you, you’d think about him each and every single time, realising that you’re the luckiest girl in the world.

Bf!König was destined to be a chef. He gets so passionate when he’s telling you about some recipe he’ll try for dinner or when anything food related is bought up. You’d tag along in the kitchen as he taught you all the nifty tips and tricks. The nights which would always be most fun, intimate and undeniably delicious is when you guys cooked dinner together.

His speciality is making deserts, which is perfect for your sweet tooth.

Bf!König is so good with children, either when it came to entertaining or colouring with them - they’re always drawn to König, despite how they think he’s scary at first. Your little cousin had to stay at yours for the night and they bonded so quickly.

At first, she was admittedly intimidated and intrigued by him. She had to crane her neck up but to meet his gaze, like many others when they first meet König.

But upon the ice being broken, they were baking cute little cupcakes together as she received piggybacks whilst she giggled to her heart’s content. He gave her wholesome, exclusive nicknames like ‘Prinzessin’. It went from her shooting him unsure looks to them being the best of friends.

Your face flushed so hard as you watched them. In their shared smiles, you found an endless joy.

Bf!König gradually opened up to you about his work life. He told you about his scars. Either how he got them, the treatment, the pain and whatever else he shared with you.

You’d remind him if it’s an uncomfortable topic for him then he absolutely doesn’t have to talk about it. “Work stuff can be work stuff, it doesn’t have be discussed if you really don’t wanna,” you’d remind him, ensuring you’re crossing no boundaries. Yet he insisted on it, he trusts you. It was all like a slow burn - your love was like a slow burn; the beautiful blazing fire at the end was all too worth it. Knowing he could trust you with something so delicate and harsh made you feel a mix of ecstatic emotions you couldn’t phrase.

Your fingers gently glided against his scarred back, feeling the vibration of his voice and the light indents that lingered on his skin. He faintly hitched each time you touched him; like he was trembling under and melting into your touch. It’s the moments like this that you could infinitely relish in.

He’d reveal more and more in your ‘secret scar seshes’. It felt rewarding knowing he could put so much trust into you, letting you into his sacred double life.

Bf!König realises how deeply in love with you he is whenever you’re passionately raving about something or laughing. He’s drawn to your voice, like it’s a song he wouldn’t mind leaving on repeat for the whole week. To him. it was like a hug to the ears. He found happiness in your passion. He didn‘t mind being the listener of most conversations. He absorbed every word you spoke like you were a little podcast he could tune into.

You noticed the way he looks at you as you spoke - you tried your hardest to not get nervous and fumble over your words or stutter despite how long you guys have been dating. You’d act like a coy teen who’s talking to their crush for the first time whenever you picked up on how observant he was. You tend to unknowingly repeat things, and with the same eagerness as from the first time you told him - how could he ever want to take that away from you? The last thing he’d want to do is rid the bright energy in your demeanour and tone, all from just talking about something you’re very keen on.

He just knew whenever your sentence started with “Oh yeah, did I tell you about…” it’s most probably something you’ve told him. He’d act oblivious with an almost instinctive “No, I don’t think so… tell me,” with his best interest and ears that seemingly perked just to hear you talk all over again.

Bf!König went shopping with you at some boujie dress shop. It was mostly for window shopping, but if you really liked any dress he wouldn’t hesitate to buy it for you.

You took one to the changing room, just to try it on. It delightfully draped down your body, tight in all the right places. The colour complimented your features so much - in addition to the risqué slit that became more evident whenever you walked.

“You ready…?” you asked, taking a final spin in the mirror.

“Of course, Schatz.”

You walked out of the changing room, finding König patiently perched on a chair. The dress faintly brushed against the floor with every step, making you hold up the hem of it in your hands like those elegant princesses. (In which you looked like one to him).

He paused for a second, like he was trying to catch his breath, savouring your every feature. He’s never seen you dressed in such graceful clothing, let alone a dress that’s just otherworldly and looks as if it’s been made for you and you only. You shyly smiled because of how affectionate his gaze was. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his wallet.

“No, König,” you interjected, frowning. He looked at you expectedly, slightly confused.

“What?” he asked, confusion being the only thing in his tone. You shook your head at him before lowering his wallet - an indirect rejection to him spoiling you.

“Look at you!” He began, evidently growing more and more confused and in love by the second, “You look…” he paused, like he was trying to find the right words, like your beauty was indescribable, “gorgeous.” He pulled his wallet back out in protest, making you tut at him before hugging him in the tightest embrace and smiling like an idiot.

Bf!König is used to you sleeping on him. It always starts off with you innocent resting your head on his lap as you watch TV.

“I’m just resting my eyes,” you groaned, voice heavy with sleep. He didn’t think much of it and just let you do your thing.

And not even five seconds later, you were using his warmth as a blanket and his thighs as a pillow before dozing off.

“Y/N?” he called your name ever so softly, checking if you were genuinely asleep. You’ve had troubles sleeping this week so your rested state made him furrow his eyebrows in shock. A few seconds of silence passed, and he found himself smiling. He didn’t mind you sleeping on him - he actually enjoyed it.

He stayed with you for a minute or two to relish in your presence before carrying you to bed, tucking you in and softly planting a kiss on your cheek.

Bf!König never fails to nonverbally bring up the size difference, from your clothes, hands, (don’t get me started on the hands) or anything, really. There will always be a size difference.

When he drives, he’d always put his hand onto your thigh and encompass your hand around his. You flutter inside at how easily he effortlessly shrinks everything and anything. You could be wearing one of his t-shirts that fit him, but they’d look bigger on your figure.

Bf!König noticed your hairbands would usually be scattered around the house. Instead of returning them to you, he’d keep them. He caught sight of a black, elastic ring on the kitchen counter, swiftly grabbed it and word it like it was a promise ring. It was so precious to him, he’ll probably keep it on until it disintegrates off his wrist.

“Have you seen my hairband?” You asked, frantically entering and exiting rooms and misplacing things to find it.

“Nope,” König replied, rolling his sleeve up to hide the same exact one you were looking for. You had a countless amount of other headbands, but you just randomly clung onto that specific one.

“Ugh, I have to get another one now.”

»»----------►Masterlist

Dating Ghost

Dating Price

Dating Soap

Dating Gaz

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mlmxreader · 16 days

Text

Soldier, Sellsword | Aragorn x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “We can do this together, if that’s what you want” With Aragorn please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Aragorn knows who the right person to ask is when he wants help with something that he cannot do alone.

: ̗̀➛ n/a

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The wind blew harshly, tumbling over trees and pushing the bushes around with thick, strong howls; so little sunshine visible that almost everything looked simply as if it had been sketched with charcoal. Varying shades of grey and little else.

The hills, rolling and steep, seemed to cheer the wind along; the thick grasses growing on them a facade to conceal the dense and deep clay and mud puddles that littered every step of the way. The trees offered no coverage and no shelter from the wind at all, and going to one side of the hills only meant getting wet and cold.

Yet Aragorn still perked up when he saw heavy, bright red, armour and a black stallion; he knew exactly who it was, and although relief left him, a smile was left on his face as he raised his arm and waved his hand for a moment.

Purposefully giving his position away as he ran towards the black horse as quickly as he could; hoping that he did not lose a boot in the process.

But the horse met him halfway, and when you got off of it, you immediately removed your helmet and smiled. Aragorn would never get sick of seeing any of it.

The bright red armour made of shed dragon scales, embellished with a great red dragon on the middle of the breastplate so that its mighty claw sat over your heart; its pointed and triangular tongue sticking out and matching the tip of its tail.

The sword on your hip, an old family heirloom, was forged from dragon teeth and could cut through almost anything; yet it wasn't your armour or your sword that he was interested in as he cleared his throat and took a step back.

"My favourite sellsword."

You shrugged as you let one hand lay on the hilt of your sword. "My favourite ranger."

"Tell me," he hummed. "What word comes of the Kingdom of Song?"

You wanted to roll your eyes as you grinned at him, shaking your head. "You know I despise that nickname... but not much. Some orc scavengers to the far East, but their King can deal with that - when he isn't too busy stealing from everybody else."

Aragorm smiled so fondly, it was difficult to believe that he had ever smiled like that before. "And what news of their King?"

"Still preening for Sauron," you admitted, scowling. "The North and the island Kingdom still seek an alliance with us, and the likes of Gondor."

He nodded slowly, making a mental note of it all to pass onto Elrond when he could. "I see. And what of you?"

"Well, I still have yet to find that pretty spouse my King told me about," you joked. "But he did ask me something... rather odd."

Aragorn raised a brow. "And what would that be?"

"He asked, when the time came and we no longer could hold back the East King," you started, "that I should go into the mountains, and I should speak the dragon's tongue and wake him up."

He swallowed thickly. There had not been a dragon seen since... he couldn't even remember when. "I will send word to Elrond and-"

"No!" You snapped, clenching your jaw. "It's an odd request, yes, but... Aragorn... you must understand."

He paused, chewing at his lip for a second before sighing and nodding. "My apologies. I meant no offence."

"I don't take any," you said softly, patting his shoulder as you smiled. "Or did you forget I was once a soldier?"

"I did not," he promised. "But I must tell you, I have to make my way to Bree... and I would like it if you were to come with me."

You shrugged, not thinking that it could be of any particular importance; Bree was relatively quiet, and you had only visited there a handful of times in order to look for extra work in nearby farms. "Of course, but... can I ask why?"

"There is a Hobbit," Aragorn told you. "And I have to intercept him. Under no circumstances is he to be hurt."

You still didn't think much of it as you hummed and nodded. "Of course - we can do this together, if that's what you want. You know this, Aragorn, I am always at your side. Always."

You were about to drop to your knee and offer him your kingdom's oath, when he shook his head and pulled you up.

"Please, do not bow to me," he whispered. "I do not want your oath, nor do I want your word - I want your loyalty."

"And you have that," you promised quietly. "Just as you have my heart."

You saw his shoulders slump as he let out a shaky breath. "Promise me, though, if something happens... you will get to the Hobbit, and you will never let him out of your sight. Promise me you will not let him get hurt."

You furrowed your brows, worried what could be so dangerous about fetching one Hobbit; you figured it was maybe orcs or spiders, but you couldn't understand why.

"Alright," you agreed. "I promise."

Aragorn seemed more than relieved at your answer as he swallowed thickly, waiting for you to take one of your gauntlets off before he took your wrist in his hand; muttering in Elvish as he gently kissed the skin of your palm.

His eyes fixated on you as he looked so terribly fond. You couldn't help but to smile, shaking your head fondly. You always hated it when he did that.

"If we're to make it to Bree by dawn, we ought to leave now," you told him, grinning. "Come on."

Aragorn nodded, all too easily falling into step behind you; he knew he made the right choice in asking for your allyship. He knew that you had a good heart, better than most. He knew he could trust you, and he could follow you for as long as you would follow him.

Aragorn knew that you were the perfect person for the task at hand.

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herebegiants · 7 months

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‿︵‿✎ Raspberries and Sunbeams ✎‿︵‿

Chris grunted. Birdsong met his ears and sunshine battered through his eyelids, filling his drowsy vision with bright red. He opened his eyes, groaning as he squinted at the world around him.

Climbing to his feet, he stretched with a groan.

He scratched his shoulder, which cramped from having been pressed against a tree all night, and shot a stink eye at a particularly loud bird in a nearby branch.

A yawn dragged out behind his back.

“Mm, hey. ‘Morning, big guy.”

Chris glanced over his shoulder.

Nick sat up in the hammock, leaning forward to stretch his wings over his head. His arms reached out ahead as far as he could make them. Light crackling sounded from his knuckles, and his feathers did a little shake.

He huffed a weary breath, his eyes lined with dark rings.

Chris turned himself around to face him, scratching the back of his neck as he shoved his other hand in his pocket. The uncomfortably off texture still lingered on his clothes.

“‘Morning.” He tried to sound more chipper than he felt, though he didn’t know if it worked. “What d’yeh want for breakfast?”

The fairy’s brow raised. “Huh?”

Chris shrugged, rolling his eyes at his shock. “Breakfast? Uh,” he frowned, “I don’t know what yeh eat.”

Nick stared at him for a moment. “You’d, get me…”

He sat back, blinking as he propped himself up with his arms. “I guess… whatever? I’m not too picky.” He hummed with a thoughtful frown, gaze wandering to the side. “What could you even eat out in the forest, though? Besides berries or something.” His confusion dropped as he looked back to Chris. “Could I maybe have a bit of whatever you have? I wouldn’t take much.”

Chris arched a brow. “Ehhh… You’re not gonna want what I eat, half-pint. I don’t even know if your body could process it.”

Nick tightened his lips. “Hmm. Right.” He nodded. “‘Cause, the whole… metal thing… Yup! Yup, nevermind! I… I do not want whatever you’re having. Probably.”

He tried to jump into the air, only to yelp as he flapped his wings and dropped into the hammock again.

Chris jumped over. “EASY! Stars! Give ‘em time first yeh little…” He shoved Nick back to his rear as he tried to get to his feet once more, getting a snicker out of the little man as he bounced on the fabric.

Chris tried to stifle a smile. He stepped back. “Berries yeh say. Lemme see what I kin do.”

»———— ✯ ⋅. 𝄞 .⋅ ✯ ————«

Nick watched as the giant spun on his heel and swept off past the trees.

His smile faded. The words from his dream drifted through his mind.

Do you KNOW what he IS?

He frowned to himself. Why would that matter if all the creature referred to was Chris being a giant?

He snapped his head up as Chris thudded back into view.

“Hope yeh like raspberries. Lucky thing they weren’t too far from here.” He held his cupped hands out, offering a pile of bright red raspberries as big as he was.

Hesitantly, Nick reached out, taking one half the size of his head.

His mouth watered as he bit into it. Sweet and tart juice flooded over his tongue, rich with the strength of sunbeams.

His stomach growled appreciatively. He grabbed another as he stuffed his face, eyes wide with a whole-hearted nod in thanks.

“WOW these are good! Thank you!” He tore another bite, snorting with alarm and latching his jaws over a drop of juice that nearly fell onto Chris’s shirt-hammock.

He looked between Chris and the rest, waving a hand to them.

“‘Alf shum!”

Chris blinked.

“Uh, sure...” His face bent in a puzzled look. “Yeh don’t want more?”

Nick frowned, still biting the berry. He breathed a doubtful grunt, but he grabbed another.

Chris took back his hands, eyeing the berries curiously. He picked one and popped it in his mouth.

His eyes flew wide.

“Mmm! You’re right!” He grinned, stepping back as he prodded the fruit, searching for one particularly ripe. “We never had anythin’ this good where I’m from!” He tossed one into the air, throwing back his head to catch it with a laugh.

Nick paused. “What do you mean?”

Chris bobbed his head to the side, his eyes still locked on the pile of sweets. “Well, when everythin’s grown in greenhouses it’s just, different. I guess the sun adds a little somethin’, eh?”

Nick frowned. Guilt swirled in his belly as he watched the giant, very nearly giddy at the delight of simple raspberries.

He’d been acting more like a person than any creature from old horror stories.

Suddenly he wasn’t very hungry.

Chris almost licked his dirty fingers before he caught himself. He wiped them on his trench coat, spinning on his heel and scanning the ground.

Nick arched a brow, watching as he pried up a rock, rammed it into the dirt beside a tree root, and proceeded to dig a pit in the soil.

“Uhh, whatcha doin there?”

“Hm?” Chris glanced over his shoulder. “Oh. Gettin’ my breakfast.”

With that he dug his hand into the ditch, and with a grunt he yanked the root out of the ground. He set a foot on the side nearest the tree and wrenched the root over itself, snapping off a portion as long as his arm. He brushed it off.

Nick furrowed his brow with a blink.

Chris cracked the root open over his knee, sinking his teeth into its side and spitting out the bark exterior. He bit a chunk out of its center, chewing it with a frown.

Nick pulled back, blinking. His lip curled in a grimace.

“Dude. What. The f*ck.”

Chris raised his brow as he looked at him. “Well I don’t exactly have much else.” He swept his arms wide, encompassing their surroundings in the gesture. “At least there’s plenty of it. Everywhere.”

Nick looked at the berries in his hands. He picked up the two that were still whole and held them up towards the giant.

“You can have these if you want.”

Chris paused. An amused smile crept over his lips.

“Thanks, but berries are not as easy to come by. An’ they’re not as filling to me.” He patted his belly with a chuckle before stepping forward, holding a hand out. “If ye’d like I can put ‘em in the bag for later. But those are yours.”

Nick’s brow twisted in sympathy. He dropped the berries into his palm, then turned back to the first one and forced himself to eat the rest of it.

Chris plucked a thin bottle from the bag, pulling out the cork and rolling the berries into it before putting it away again.

Nick licked his lips and wiped a sleeve over his mouth. “So, there’s a meeting point we’ve gotta get to today.” He started.

Chris nodded as he turned back to him.

“We had it set, in case anything went wrong.” He explained, trying not to let his voice waver at that. “It’s a bit early, but since the summoning worked we’d probably better get there. The others’ll wanna move on with the plan now, since we’ve got your help.”

And they might wonder if you killed me, otherwise. He thought. His face twisted in a grimace once more.

A trace of anxiety pinched in his gut. He didn’t want to think of what they might do to the giant if they did. Especially if he wasn’t around to say anything.

Chris swept his pale hand in front of him again, waiting.

Nick tried not to show how he gulped.

Right. No flying.

Slowly, he crawled out of the hammock and onto the massive, rough palm, sitting on the cloth of the giant’s fingerless glove.

A knot formed in his throat. Self-awareness tightened his rib cage, and his breathing grew shallow as he tried not to let his thoughts overtake him. It was like sitting on someone’s lap, but instead of the part where you’re worried about crushing their poor legs you’re mainly focused on the part of how awkward you’re being. After all, after last night he’d realized that Chris could probably feel every move he made.

And without being pinned, another thought jumped into his mind.

“O-okay how do we do this exactly?” Nick flopped his arms against his sides with a shrug, his wings shuffling on his back as he tried not to show how tense he felt. “This does not look stable.”

Chris chuckled. “Relax. I’m not gonna let yeh fall.”

The fingers curled, cupping around him and leaving him in the pit the hand made. With that the giant stepped up to the tree and undid the knots of the hammock with his free hand. He backed out from the branches and shook the pine needles from the shirt before tucking it into one of his belts.

Carefully, Nick crawled to the edge of his hand, standing on his knees to peer over his fingers.

The morning sunbeams filtered through the leaves on their right.

He pointed in that direction.

“We’ll have to head straight for a while, but the city should be that way.” He glanced at him over his shoulder. “And if we end up missing it, we just have to follow the coast for a ways before circling around through the woods again.”

Chris’s eyes widened. “The coast?”

“Yeah. The Eastern coast? At the edge of the Great Sea?” Nick tilted his head as Chris frowned, his gaze turning distant with thought. “Is… is something wrong?”

Chris blinked. “Uh… No.” He shook his head, his footsteps thudded from below. “Let’s. Let’s just get to this meetin’ place.”

Nick sat down, leaning against his thumb, watching as the trees disappeared behind the giant’s torso as he continued to tear through the rest of the tree root.

A pool of dread stirred in his mind.

He glanced to Chris from the side of his vision, careful not to move his head and reveal he was looking.

His brow was furrowed. As usual.

But it was pensive.

I actually have no idea how he died.

Nick clenched his jaw.

I hope I didn’t hit a nerve...

#reupload #HereBeGiants first draft

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garden-of-omegas · 1 year

Text

☘ FAMILIAR FERRET [PORTIA] ☘

┌── ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ••✎•• ──────────

characters: portia warnings: none? rating: sfw a/n: so, this is a thing. i never thought i'd give any backstory to the alphas, but i should've probably thought about that before i started writing down hints about it. but yeah, this is the story of how portia's alpha met their familiar.

~🎕

└── ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ••✎•• ──────────

your master had just recently allowed you to study familiars and their properties, having previously not wanted you to get involved with such things. you thought the old man was kind of kooky for it, familiars came when they came and you couldn't have much influence over the matter.

but you didn't have one yet, and you were set to start your pilgrimage in just a few months. not that there weren't a lot of candidates around, there's forest as far as they eye can see and beyond just outside this stupid tower. but none of them... none of them fit.

at least it felt so, watching a couple of bunnies hop by in a hurry. you were sitting beneath one of your favorite trees, supposedly studying. you weren't really, you didn't need to.

your eyes start to drift shut, when a force barrels over your stomach and forcefully pushes you awake. you double over, ending up with a faceful of fur and a squeak. catching your breath, you sit back properly to see a brown and white little ferret, looking up at you like she'd never done anything wrong in her life. you highly doubted that.

"why hello, where did you come from?" you softly ask, petting her pelt carefully. she seems to enjoy it, twisting onto her back to receive more pets. you're more than happy to oblige, her fur being the silkiest thing you'd ever touched.

you sat there for a few hours more, in an attempt to make your master really think you were studying hard, when in reality you were chattering with a ferret. what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

when you did finally get up and leave for home, you didn't notice the little friend stealthily following you back.

the next morning, you woke up to another faceful of fur.

"wha-! phe, hieh!" you spit out all the fur suddenly stuck to your tongue, while your new ferret friend moves to daintily sit on your lap, once again looking like she'd done no wrong.

once all the fur is unstuck from your poor tongue, you turn your eyes onto the ferret. you have no idea how she got inside, much less how long she'd been here.

"seriously this time, where the fuck did you come from?"

the ferret only tilts her head, seemingly broadening her smile. you decide to leave it at that and get up for your morning routine.

when you walk into the "kitchen" (really a glorified mess for potion making) with the ferret in your arms, your master takes one look at you and raises his bushy brows. "you're a fast learner, if you already managed to find yourself a familiar. all that studying in the forest must be paying off."

"ye-" you start to answer, before what he said finally clicks. you gaze down at the ferret in your arms, mouth wide open. how did you not notice that before?

the ferret tilts her head again, and you now realize that she is actually smiling. wily little thing.

you scamper back to your room, burnt toast for breakfast forgotten. sitting down on your bed, you bring your new familiar to eyelevel with you. she gazes back at you with such intelligent eyes.

"how did i not notice that before?" you whisper, astonished. you really have no idea.

just two months later, earlier than you ever thought, you're leaving for your travels, your familiar now named leda burrowing herself into your bag. you're trying so hard to get her out, while your master is giving you an useless lecture about safety or something. nothing about this situation is working.

"and remember, never use salt and lemon slices-"

"it doesn't taste good, yes, i remember." you finish your master's ramblings as you finally get leda to stop trying to get to her beloved snacks. unbothered, she coils herself around your neck.

"good, then you're ready to go." your master declares, hitting the ground with his stick.

"you give the weirdest advice." you mutter before waving goodbye to him, knowing that it's going to be a long time before you see him again. he doesn't wave back, just nods. it's more than you expected.

finally starting your journey, you square your shoulders, leda adjusting herself to be more comfortable, and start walking with purpose. do you actually no where you're going? no, but it doesn't matter. that's not what journeys are for.

"just you and me now, leda. let's hope we don't end up in too much trouble on the way." you scratch leda's little furry head, to which she answers with her usual look like she's never done anything wrong, ever.

you're definitely getting into trouble in the next town.

#⚜ garden walks #omegaverse #a/b/o #alpha!reader #x reader #the arcana #portia devorak #omega!portia

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starrierknight · 7 months

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

"O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" — William Shakespeare, via Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 7k

pairing— cruel!dom!gn!reader x true form!sub!sukuna

cws/tags— painplay, cbt (ball busting), doubled dicked sukuna, S&M, dumbification, humiliation, subspace, heavy degradation, size kink, voice kink, mutual masturbation, reader is AFAB, handjob, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, petnames: for reader “fool” & “brat” + for sukuna “slut” & “loser” & “freak” & “sicko”, porn w/ crack fic plot

Sukuna’s domain was far from inviting, a stark contrast to anything one might deem ‘homey’.

As you surveyed the colossal cavern, its vastness resembling that of a grand cathedral, the support structure caught your eye—towering bone columns replaced the conventional pillars. The entire space, from the ground up to the ceiling, was a macabre creation of bones. The ceiling itself resembled a grotesquely cracked ribcage, a grim reminder of its origins. While some bones were discernibly human, others appeared to belong to unknown and enigmatic creatures, transcending the boundaries of what you had ever witnessed before. The bizarre collection of bones lent an exceptionally eerie ambience, heightened by a peculiar, reddish glow emanating from an indiscernible light source.

At the heart of this bone-laden spectacle stood a towering monument, a colossal mound of bones sculpted into a surreal structure. Ascending the mound was a staircase fashioned from bones, leading to a throne unlike any other—an imposing seat, constructed entirely from an assembly of human remains, awaited at the pinnacle.

Perched upon that ominous throne was Sukuna, the embodiment of malevolence—the King of Curses—displaying his intimidating presence in all its grim grandeur. Even from your vantage point, peering up at him from a considerable distance, he appeared colossal. His physique was a testament to sheer power and artistry, meticulously sculpted and adorned with bulging muscles that defied belief. Four massive, sinewy arms extended from his formidable frame, possessing an awe-inspiring strength capable of pulverising titanium into mere dust with a mere flex of their might.

It’s a shame you weren’t a sorcerer who knew what and who he was.

Summoning your courage, you cleared your throat and shouted up to him, the question cutting through the eerie atmosphere, “Where am I and who the fuck are you?”

Sukuna’s laughter, a deep and menacing boom, resonated through the expansive domain, causing the very walls to tremble and the unsettling echoes to pierce your soul.

"Ignorant fool," he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "You dare address me in such a manner?"

You winced, hastily clapping your hands over your ears. "Could you please lower your volume?"

His laughter, a bone-chilling symphony, echoed once more, causing the ground to quiver. "Is this too much for your feeble mortal ears? Come and face me."

His words felt like an intrusive melody, echoing in your mind, a haunting tune you wished to escape.

Surveying the daunting mountain of bones and the seemingly endless staircase leading to his throne, you hesitated. "Uh, no thanks. It's quite a lengthy walk."

Your ears strained as Sukuna mumbled something indecipherable. There was a pause.

"Come and face me!" he thundered suddenly.

"What did I say about the volume?" you snapped.

"Face me!"

"Lower your voice!"

"Come and face me-"

"Can you just tell me where I am!" you yelled back, frustration boiling over.

A groan escaped your lips as you walked towards the edge of the bone mountain, adamant about not getting any closer or ascending those foreboding stairs. Rolling your eyes, you lashed out, sending a nearby skull skittering across the cavernous expanse, its hollow clatter echoing off the walls as it bounced and rolled.

Surveying your surroundings, you tried to fathom where you were and who this exceptionally bossy man-thing-monster could be.

It felt like mere moments ago you were in the familiarity of your home, and then, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in this eerie place.

Curiosity mingled with the morbid as you picked up a human skull, studying it intently. Before you could react, Sukuna materialised beside you, his massive clawed hands snatching the skull from your grasp. His cold, calculating gaze bore into you, accentuated by a sly grin that danced across his face.

"Mine," he growled possessively.

Startled, you instinctively recoiled from his sudden presence. "Fucking hell! You almost gave me a heart attack."

He prepared to unleash another booming laugh, but the sight of your unimpressed expression made him hesitate, his smug demeanour faltering momentarily.

Clearing his throat, he began, "You, little human, find yourself within my domain."

You snorted, glancing around the eerie expanse once more. "Right. Perfect. Fantastic. That just clears it all up, then."

"I am Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, the mightiest sorcerer of the Heian era, and soon to be your adversary," he declared.

"Oh, joy.”

You took a cautious step back, hands on your hips as you observed Sukuna's monstrous presence from this closer vantage point. His colossal, imposing form bore an unexpected juxtaposition of delicate black line tattoos, intricately strewn across his muscled physique. On each of his four wrists and biceps, ominous black rings encircled the powerful limbs, adding to the aura of menace.

Sukuna's facial features were strikingly sharp and angular, marked by prominent cheekbones and a menacing, chiselled jawline. His teeth gleamed razor-sharp, exposed in a malicious grin that laid bare his brutal nature. One half of his face retained a more distinguishable humanoid appearance, while the other bore a chaotic tapestry of marred skin resembling the gnarled bark of an ancient, scarred tree. His hands and fingers culminated in sharp black claws, a testament to his deadly prowess.

Atop his head, Sukuna wore a sinister crown of twisted, horn-like protrusions, accentuating his demonic countenance. These menacing horns symbolised his dominion over curses, solidifying his reign as the dreaded King of Curses—or so you guessed.

You whistled, gesturing toward his crown. "Seems a bit on the nose, doesn't it?"

Sukuna laughed, a deep and rich sound that carried a hint of warmth compared to his earlier booming demeanour. "It does the job, brat."

Rolling your eyes, you strolled away from him, your curiosity now fixated on the mountain of bones, which you began to inspect more closely, prodding them with the toe of your shoe. "So, why am I here, exactly?"

"I summoned you," Sukuna replied.

"Right. Why me?"

Sukuna chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself. Any human would have sufficed, it just happened to be you."

You let out a heavy sigh. "Were you bored or something?"

Sukuna's multiple scarlet eyes flickered with curiosity, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Indeed, I was."

"It's a bit... How should I put this?" you mused, glancing from the bones comprising his throne to those forming the ceiling and scattered across the ground. "It's a tad grim in here."

Sukuna suppressed a laugh, glancing at the skull in his hand that he had snatched from you earlier, rolling it between two of his hands before effortlessly crushing it to dust, akin to an aluminium can. "I don't see an issue with it."

"I imagine you quite like it... These aren't just your Halloween decorations, are they?" you remarked dryly.

"These are my trophies," Sukuna boasted.

"Of course they are," you snorted. “You couldn’t have gone for Jack-O-lanterns? Black cats? Maybe a ghost or two? Or, I guess you have that covered… Thoughts?”

Sukuna's scowl deepened as he admonished you, "You should show more respect, human. I could kill you."

Undeterred, you crouched down and sifted through the masses of bones from the mountain, selecting another human skull. "So could most things."

"I beg your pardon—"

"Then beg. So could most things," you reiterated, standing up and inspecting the skull in your hands.

You began your ascent up the mountain of skulls, following the staircase that led to Sukuna's throne. Oblivious to Sukuna's growing bemusement and irritation, you oh-so-casually handled the human remains, displaying a level of disrespect that both puzzled and irked him. He couldn't fathom why he hadn't ended you like he had done with countless others. What was it about you that piqued his interest?

In a trance-like state, Sukuna remained fixated on you, watching intently as you climbed the staircase. Every detail about you seemed to captivate him, from the count of individual hairs on your head to the rhythm of your breaths, even the lingering scent of shampoo that trailed in your wake—the scent he inhaled hungrily.

The bones of the staircase crunched under your shoes as you ascended, the sound echoing through the cavern. However, you paid it no mind, your determination driving you forward.

A light chuckle escaped Sukuna's lips as he observed you casually taking a seat on his formidable throne. The audacity and nonchalance you displayed amused him greatly. Your courage was evident, and it only added to your intrigue. He wondered if this confidence extended to various other aspects of your life…

Languidly sprawled across his throne, you directed your attention to the aged, cracked skull in your hand, and spoke:

"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow

Of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy."

"Why are you reciting Shakespeare? Just to annoy me or because I'm the only one you can talk to, since the others are dead?" he remarked.

Sukuna leisurely ascended the steps, watching you with an intrigued expression.

You let out a sigh and casually tossed the skull over your shoulder, the clattering sound echoing as it rolled down the mountain of bones. "What else am I supposed to do here? It's awfully dull, isn't it?"

Sukuna tilted his head, scowling deeply as he stalked closer. Was this human calling his domain dull? He felt something stir within him...

"I'll have you know," he retorted, "I work diligently to maintain this domain."

"By collecting skeletons and sitting on your ass all day?" you snickered, unimpressed.

"That... That isn't all that I do," Sukuna defended, his arms crossed, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't shake off the annoyance of you finding his domain unimpressive.

"I had to defeat plenty of foes to obtain these skulls and bones. I've worked tirelessly for this throne," he asserted.

You sighed as you stretched out lazily on his throne, making yourself at home. "I'll give you that. It's a comfortable seat."

Annoyance surged within Sukuna. How dare you touch his throne, let alone stretch out on it? You were blatantly taunting him with your actions, and he couldn't stand for it. His lip curled in a manner it never had before, his face twisted in evident disgust as he approached you, extending his clawed hands, pointing and clicking with a sinister smirk.

"Move."

You kissed your teeth, a sardonic expression on your face. "Where are your manners? Say please."

Sukuna froze, caught off guard by your audacious response. Did you just instruct him to say please? Did you dare to instruct the King of Curses? His eyes widened in disbelief, grappling with your boldness. He couldn't decipher if this was pure defiance or merely a game to toy with him. Regardless, he found your tone intriguing—albeit unsettling.

You arched an eyebrow, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips.

Unaccustomed to such defiance, Sukuna felt a mix of surprise and annoyance. No one had ever dared to challenge him like this. He stared at you, his cold and calculating demeanour returning to his face.

"Move, fool!" he thundered, his voice resonating through the cavern, causing bones to tremble beneath and around you.

“Say please.”

Sukuna's unmarred eyes twitched with a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, but he found himself strangely drawn to your unyielding nature.

"Please move out of my throne. Now," he growled, struggling to maintain his composure.

You responded with a hum, your smile curiously enchanting. "Get on your knees and say it."

Sukuna was stunned, his disbelief evident. You were undoubtedly toying with him. He couldn't believe how this exchange was making him feel, his heart quickening and an unfamiliar warmth tingling in his cheeks.

For a moment, he hesitated, then, with a smirk that couldn't be suppressed, he lowered himself to his knees before you. His gaze remained locked on you as you continued to lounge in his throne—like it was made for you.

"Now say please. Say it like you mean it," you persisted.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and reluctantly obliged, allowing a flicker of annoyance to colour his voice. "Please. Move out of my throne."

The smirk on his face undermined the attempt to convey genuine sincerity.

Your eyes narrowed, determined. “Like you mean it.”

He grunted, attempting to strike a balance between irritation and compliance. "Please. Move out of my throne."

There was a faint trace of politeness in his tone, but the insincerity was evident. The reason behind your insistence puzzled him. He couldn't comprehend why you were fixated on this request.

"Why are you being so persistent?"

"Shut up. Don't question me. Say please."

He scoffed, feigning annoyance. "Fine, fine, fine."

Though the act didn't genuinely bother him, Sukuna was growing increasingly intrigued about the reason behind your persistence. He had a sneaking suspicion that your desire for him to say "please" went beyond just his tone. This conversation was taking an unexpected turn, one he hadn't anticipated.

"Won’t you please move out of my throne?" he asked, this time with genuine sincerity laced into his words.

"Keep saying please," you grinned mischievously at him, eyes alight with amusement.

This was spiralling into uncharted territory. Sukuna could feel the warmth creeping up his cheeks as he realised what you were trying to make him do. Despite the unexpected turn of events, he found himself oddly willing to comply, feeling a strange sense of euphoria from the experience.

"Please. Please move-"

"No, no. Just say 'please'. Just that. Keep saying it," you drawled.

Sukuna was momentarily left speechless, captivated by the peculiar request. The amusement in the situation wasn't lost on him, and he found himself enjoying this unexpected exchange.

"Please…!"

He began to repeat the word, his voice growing louder and more resolute with each iteration. The cavern echoed with the booming sound, filled with an unusual conviction. Throughout the exchange, his eyes remained locked onto yours, fixated on something he had never known he could feel—curiosity and a touch of vulnerability.

"That's better," you gently interrupted, your voice inviting softness.

Sukuna paused, considering you. It seemed you wanted him to alter not just his words, but also his demeanour—to become soft and sweet, a far cry from his usual cold, commanding self. He cleared his throat and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Please..."

His voice, now gentle and honey-like, carried a richness and warmth that sharply contrasted with his typical cold and authoritative tone. He spoke with an awkward tenderness, like his vocal chords had not been designed for it.

Your eyes sparkled with approval. "Good... Keep saying it like that."

Surprised by your approval, Sukuna found himself unexpectedly pleased with how this situation had evolved. The King of Curses adjusted his posture as he knelt before you, accommodating his massive frame for a more comfortable position.

Continuing to repeat the word in that soft, sweet tone, thoroughly enthralled by the unusual turn of events. He couldn't help but wonder why he felt so oddly giddy. This exchange was intriguing, and he found your request strangely alluring.

You hummed thoughtfully and shifted your sitting position on his throne, adjusting to your comfort. A subtle, anticipatory tension hung in the air as you rubbed your thighs together, biting your bottom lip, your gaze fixed on him as he knelt and spoke in that gentle, pleading tone. Sukuna couldn't deny the unique excitement that surged within him.

Sukuna couldn't help but notice the seductive movements of your body, a provocative display that stirred a new sensation within him. He gulped nervously, feeling a newfound exhilaration as he continued to utter that soft word:

"Please... Please... Please…"

The way you looked down at him, your gaze ravenous and hungry, sent shivers down his spine. It was a gaze that suggested desire, an eagerness to consume him whole. Sukuna was gradually comprehending the appeal of this scenario and the feelings it evoked—feelings he had never experienced before.

He found himself oddly pleased by the way you stared at him, as if he were your prey. The sensation was foreign but undeniably enticing. He couldn't quite grasp why this was turning him on, if that was indeed what he was feeling. It was an uncharted territory for him, and you were leading him into the depths of this unexplored realm.

Your face lit up with amusement, and your legs rubbed together in a teasing motion. It was evident that you were toying with him, revelling in the effect you were having on him. Sukuna felt the flush of heat creeping up his neck, a telltale sign of his growing arousal. This was a sensation he had never associated with himself, yet it was undeniable—he was beginning to enjoy this, a lot.

The King of Curses continued to plead sweetly, a rush of euphoria surging through him, a tempest of desires that he was just beginning to grasp.

You tugged at your clothes and spread your legs, exposing yourself to him as you sat on his throne. You licked your fingers and dipped them between your thighs, rubbing yourself as you listened to him begging.

All his eyes were glued to the way your fingers teased your cunt, tracing its perimeter but never quite touching yourself were he would have touch you. If it were him, he would have buried his face between your legs, not teasing, but devouring. He licked his lips, zoning in on the slick of your arousal that glisted on your folds—meaning that him begging had turned you on, maybe even more than it did him. So, that was your game, was it?

The audacity of your actions left Sukuna in a state of disbelief. The line between desire and humiliation blurred as you pushed the boundaries, challenging his self-control. It was an internal struggle for Sukuna—his centuries-old pride warring with this intoxicating, uncharted desire.

He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he grappled with the unexpected arousal that coursed through his veins. The sight of you, unabashed and bold, combined with the teasing laughter in your voice, fueled the flames of his arousal.

His voice, hoarse and shaky, struggled to keep up with the torrent of emotions. The word "please" fell from his lips in a desperate plea, almost a mantra, amplifying the tension in the room.

"Sukuna, you're hard as a rock," you pointed out, the truth of your words ringing through the air.

Your laughter, rich and playful, reverberated through the chamber, filling the room with an infectious energy. It was a stark contrast to the typically stoic and fearsome King of Curses. Sukuna couldn't help but feel a surge of humiliation mixed with fascination at his own arousal.

With your teasing remark, Sukuna's gaze reluctantly shifted downward, his eyes widening as he acknowledged the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Under the baggy cloth of his trousers, he was indeed hard as a rock, a physical response to the alluring power you held over him. He could feel both of his cocks throbbing with heat, twitching in their confines. The arousal was a foreign sensation, and the fact that you were the cause of it left him both bewildered and intrigued.

In this moment, Sukuna found himself ensnared in a paradox—humiliated by his vulnerability yet undeniably enticed by the forbidden, his instincts torn between the desire to assert his dominance and the intoxicating allure of surrendering to this new experience—to surrendering to you.

He had never felt so vulnerable, so at the mercy of his own desires.

The small, involuntary moan that escaped his lips startled him, a clear indicator of just how much you had unravelled him. How embarrassing.

His voice, once firm and commanding, now wavered with need and desperation as he continued to plead. The word "please" took on a new tone, a raw and needy edge. He was no longer the dominant King of Curses; he was a man lost.

Despite this vulnerability, Sukuna couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of the moment. He wanted to hold onto this feeling, this new vulnerability that both embarrassed and enticed him. It was a struggle to admit that he craved this, that he wanted more, that he wanted you to keep pushing him into this unexplored realm. The word "please" became a whisper, an admission of his desire, a plea for the unknown to continue.

"Hey, Sukuna? Why don't you touch yourself, hm?" you mused in a breathy voice.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. Do as you're told."

Sukuna's breath hitched at your words, the unexpected request sending a surge of heat through his veins. It was a daring proposition, one that caught him off guard, yet the enticing tone of your voice pushed his desire higher. He was torn between the embarrassment of this unfamiliar vulnerability and the overpowering need to submit to your words.

He hesitated, struggling to reconcile his pride with the intoxicating allure of your command. Touching himself was an act he had never considered, a realm he had never ventured into. But the pull of your dominance was too strong to resist.

Summoning his willpower, he shifted slightly, his hands inching towards himself. The air was charged with anticipation as he grappled with the embarrassment and excitement that warred within him. He swallowed hard.

"Say please," he challenged.

Sukuna's challenge was met with amusement in your eyes, your laughter echoing through the chamber. He couldn't help but feel a rush of frustration and fascination at your commanding presence. How had a mere human managed to exert such control over the King of Curses?

"Oh, come on. Look at yourself. I'm sitting on your throne getting off with you kneeling before me, begging. Do as you're told."

Your words, dripping with confidence and authority, sent a surge of heat to his cheeks. His own pride clashed with the intoxicating allure of your dominance. The way you spoke to him, the way you commanded him—it was undeniably hot, a sensation he was both frustrated and intrigued by.

The word "please" left his lips almost like a whine, a testament to the power you held over him. His gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration, vulnerability, and longing. You were indeed torturing him.

"Be good for me, and touch yourself,” you said in a dangerous whisper as you rubbed yourself.

You dipped a finger inside yourself and moaned, a lazy smile on your face. You bucked into your hand as you touched yourself on his throne, putting on a show for him. His mouth watered as he pictured how it must feel inside you—slick and warm and tight—and God, what he wouldn’t give to feel it for himself.

Sukuna was both infuriated and captivated by your brazen display The way you moaned and smiled lazily, openly touching yourself, was a challenge to his self-control. But he was compelled to obey, to succumb to your desires and the intoxicating dominance you wielded.

He followed your command, tugging down his trousers and exposing himself to your gaze. His hands, large and powerful, hesitantly moved to touch himself, fingers grazing over his arousal.

His huge, domineering hands wrapped around his cocks, stroking the lengths of them and he gasped. Why was this more intense than any battle? A better thrill than killing? He bit hit lip, eyes drawn to and fascinated by his own body’s reaction to you and how milky white pre drooled down from his slits. How, with every stroke of his hands, his back archer and he bucked into his own touch.

His eyes fluttered shut as he grappled with this new experience, letting himself be consumed by the heady mix of desire and submission. The act was both mortifying and exhilarating, and all the while, he was acutely aware of your eyes on him, your presence commanding and beguiling.

He couldn't believe that all of this was coming from your voice. His eyes were glued to between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours as he continued to touch himself. Your own hungry eyes latched onto both of his huge, aching dicks as he played with himself. Everything about Sukuna was overwhelming, from his power to his body to his lust. You found yourself admitting to your own curiosity as you drank in the sight of them; The sight of them dripping and flushed and how almost swollen his balls looked with cum that hand’t been released.

Your moans and groans seemed to echo in unison, creating a symphony of desire that filled the chamber. Sukuna was increasingly lost in the overwhelming sensations that coursed through him. The word "please" left his lips in a chorus of longing, each repetition pushing him deeper into submission.

His focus had shifted entirely, the initial intent of getting you off his throne fading into obscurity. His gaze remained fixed on your intimate display, his arousal building with every touch and sound that emanated from both of you. The control you held over him was both infuriating and irresistible, a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend but was unwilling to resist. As the moments passed, he found himself yearning for more, wanting this sensation to continue, to deepen, to consume him entirely.

The clash between his innate desire for power and this newfound intoxicating submission was tearing at the fabric of his being. The strength he prided himself on was now overshadowed by a longing to surrender to your every command.

Your moans were like a siren's call, drawing him deeper into the realm of obedience and desire. He felt a vulnerability he had never known, as if his very essence was being reshaped. He wanted to rebel, to assert his dominance, but your dominion over him was undeniable. Each moan you released seemed to pierce through his defences, leaving him trembling and on the verge of shattering—a cold bullet to his cursed, beating heart.

His breath was uneven, his voice cracking with need as he continued to repeat the word "please". It was a punishment he secretly craved, an experience that left him teetering on the edge, yearning for more of this torment.

"You should see yourself, Sukuna. Kneeling before me and touching yourself so desperately... Poor thing. I almost feel bad for you," you moaned.

Your words washed over Sukuna like a tidal wave, a symphony of desire and humiliation that left him gasping for breath. The sharp pain in his chest only served to intensify the sensations that coursed through him. The way you continued to toy with him, to humiliate him, sent shivers of both pleasure and torment down his spine. It left him feeling both broken and intoxicated, aching for the next command, the next word that would bind him even further to your will.

"Go on. Tell me how pathetic you are."

The admission felt like a double-edged sword, cutting through Sukuna's pride and ego, yet at the same time igniting a fire within him. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and he was both repelled and drawn to this feeling. His voice trembled with shame and arousal as he echoed the words you demanded of him.

"I'm pathetic... You're so much better than me... I'm so pathetic..."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his humiliation. He was laying bare his weaknesses, succumbing to the reality of his own desires. Each syllable was a confession that he wanted more, even if it hurt.

You laughed at him. "Aw, I bet you wish I was touching you, hm?"

The shame was palpable, like a physical weight on his shoulders. Each word was like a punch to his ego, yet he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish you were touching me… Yes… I'm that pathetic…"

His admission was barely a whisper, laced with both humiliation and a strange sense of longing. He wanted to resist, to regain control, but it was slipping through his fingers like sand. The battle between his pride and desire raged within him, and right now, desire was winning. The shame was a peculiar thrill.

"I bet you want me to touch so badly that you don't even care if it hurts, right?"

It was an unfamiliar yearning for pain. He had spent centuries as a powerful being, feared and revered, but now he was willingly surrendering to a mere human.

"Yes... I don't care if it hurts. Please... Please hurt me..."

You gracefully rose from his throne, fingers languidly snapping in front of Sukuna's face, a signal for him to rise to his feet. He complied with your command, a sudden flood of emotions rushing through his body. Every nerve seemed to tremble with a blend of obedience and desire, eagerly awaiting your touch.

As you stepped closer, your hands gently found their place on his chest, tracing the contours of his overpowering muscles. "D'you like that?" you murmured softly, your words a tender caress.

His breath hitched, caught in his throat, eyes locked onto yours as your fingers danced across his chest. His muscles quivered in response to your gentle exploration, every moment an intoxicating revelation. Your touch, so light yet electrifying, made him acutely aware of his own body. The tingling sensation of your fingers on his skin sent shivers down his spine, making his breath hitch.

"Y-Yes... I do. It feels... Exquisite," he managed to stammer, his voice cracking under the weight of your gaze.

"You're so sensitive," you observed, your touch leaving a trail of fire wherever your fingers danced. "I wonder how you'd react if I hurt you," you whispered, your voice laced with a mix of curiosity and a dark sort of delight. "Would you still be begging for it?"

His pride warred with his newfound craving, but the latter was undeniable. "Please... I want more," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He was at your mercy, a feeling that both terrified and thrilled him.

Without hesitation, you kneed him in the crotch, hitting both of his cocks square on.

It was an instantaneous, electric shock of agony that seared through his nerves, leaving him momentarily paralyzed as the intensity of the pain overwhelms his senses. He dropped to his knees with a thump, gasping.

The pain was sharp and stabbing, radiating from the point of impact like a wildfire. As if every nerve ending in the area was set ablaze, sending distress signals to his brain at an alarming speed. Sukuna’s body instinctively recoiled, attempting to protect the vulnerable region, but the pain persisted, gnawing at his insides. The pain didn't limit itself to the immediate area of impact; it radiated outward, affecting his entire abdomen, lower back, and even his thighs.

With each passing second, the pain intensified, reaching a peak where it feels like an all-consuming force, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Breathing becomes shallow and laboured, and waves of nausea washing over him, threatening to push him to the edge of consciousness.

His entire existence was shattered because of you.

"P-Please stop…!"

Sukuna writhed in agony. The once-proud King of Curses now knelt before you, completely vulnerable and at your mercy. His pleas for you to stop were desperate, and he trembled with the intensity of the pain that coursed through his body.

But you weren't done. You wanted to test the limits of his submission, to see just how far he would go for this new, twisted pleasure that bound him to you. Your hand reached out, fingers gently tracing the lines of his face before cupping his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

You laughed at Sukuna and placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down so he was laying flat on his back. Sukuna had never imagined he would be brought to such a state, submitting to the will of a human. He was at your mercy, and you were showing him no mercy at all. The proud King of Curses had been reduced to a whimpering, pained creature under your command.

He could only look up at you with desperate eyes, unable to fight back or retaliate. The pain was excruciating, and all he wanted was for it to end.

Tears welled in his eyes, a mixture of both pain and humiliation. "Please... I'm sorry... Please, have mercy..." he choked out, his voice barely audible through the suffering.

As the pain continued, he was losing his mind. He couldn't understand how he had let things go this far. He was so embarrassed by the fact that he asked you to hurt him. He didn't want to feel the pain anymore. He wanted to please you, but at what cost?

"P-please! I want it to stop…!"

"No, you don't. You're sick and disgusting, and you want this."

Another wave of agony washed over Sukuna as you kicked him in the crotch again, making his dicks twitch and drool. He cried out in sheer pain, his voice echoing through the chamber. Tears streamed down his face as he lay there, completely defeated and humiliated.

You were right. He had begged for this, and now he was paying the price for his own desires. His body trembled as he tried to cope with the searing pain coursing through him.

"S-Sick... Disgusting..." he repeated your words, the humiliation sinking deeper.

Each kick was like a dagger to Sukuna's abdomen, the pain intensifying with every strike. He could barely think straight, his mind consumed by the overwhelming torment coursing through him. He tried to beg for mercy, to make it stop, but his pleas were only met with further mockery and pain.

"P-please... It hurts... It hurts so—”

"It hurts! It hurts!" you mocked in a high pitched voice, giving him another kick.

The pain was unbearable. It was like a searing fire coursing through him, blurring his vision and numbing his mind. Each kick felt like a brutal reminder of his vulnerability and how he had let himself be reduced to this pitiful state. He tried to form words, to beg for mercy, but all that came out were incoherent cries of anguish. He had lost any semblance of control, reduced to nothing but a whimpering wreck at your feet.

Yet, in the darkest depths of his agony, a part of him was still ashamed of the desperate need for this torment, the twisted satisfaction it gave him despite the pain. He was a curse, a King of Curses, and yet he was being broken by a human. The irony was a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Stop... Please... Just stop," he managed to croak out, tears mingling with his pain.

The relentless assault left him gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face. He was trapped in a never-ending cycle of agony and humiliation, and there was no escape. Sukuna had never felt so out of control in his existence. He was begging you to stop, begging you to keep going.

You flashed a mischievous grin and ceased your playful kicking. With an enticing sway, you straddled his waist, your back turned to him. Slowly, you traced the delicate path of your nails, tantalisingly dragging them up the expanse of his powerful thighs.

"How's this?" you purred, your voice dripping with seduction.

"Ah... Ah...! H-it's... M-mmh!" His thoughts felt scrambled as he couldn't think anymore.

Your touch sent waves of ecstasy through him. His body quivered in response to the electrifying sensation of your nails tracing his thighs. Each deliberate drag felt like a surge of electric pleasure, setting his lower body ablaze with delightful twitches and shivers that seemed to course through his entire being.

"What was that? I didn't hear you," you taunted playfully.

He struggled to form a coherent response to your taunt. The sensitivity was overwhelming, and every movement you made felt like a magnificent burst of fireworks throughout his body. Every fibre of his being was trembling, and all he could manage was a desperate whimper.

"M-mmh... Ah! It feels... Ah!" he gasped.

"Pardon?" you chimed, feigning innocence.

As if the intensity wasn't already overwhelming, you chose that moment to pinch him, rolling the skin of his ballsack between your fingers, causing a sharp wave of pain to shoot through his entire being. The pain was searing, making his body contort, but paradoxically, there was an undeniable undercurrent of pleasure. The sensation of the pinch pushed him closer to the edge, and a growing feeling of heat surged within him.

"Ah!"

"You're close, aren't you?"

A deep blush now coloured his cheeks, an undeniable testament to his arousal. He couldn't deny it any longer—being pinched in such a way ignited an intense mixture of sensations within him. The pain, sharp and intense, coexisted with an overwhelming pleasure that seemed to radiate through every fibre of his being.

"Y-yes... I'm close... I-"

Sukuna's body jerked and tensed as a slap of your hand sent waves of pain and pleasure coursing through him, making his cocks sway in the air pitifully. Your taunts only fueled the fire within him, igniting a longing he couldn't deny. He was a king, but in this moment, he was at your mercy, and a part of him relished in the vulnerability of it all.

He couldn't bring himself to respond, the sensations rendering him speechless, his breathing erratic, and his body trembling under your touch and words.

"Yeah? You like that, don't you? Freak."

His moans were desperate, an involuntary response to the storm of sensations assaulting him. The mixture of pleasure and pain had him teetering on the edge of ecstasy and torment. It was a chaotic dance, and he was the unwilling participant, pulled in every direction by the whims of this strange, sadistic human being.

"You're such a loser."

As Sukuna struggled to regain control, a voice in his head told him that this wasn't over yet, that the storm was far from calming. And he knew, deep down, that he wanted to experience whatever came next, no matter how twisted or dark it might be. He was so close… He could feel it. He couldn't help but admit that he was a loser. He was getting off to this…

"You're a loser. A freak. A sicko. It's disgusting and perverted. You're so gross."

He was moaning loudly, and he was shaking in a way he could not control. "You deserve this."

"S-Yes... I-I deserve it! Please…! ‘M a loser! I’m disgusting! I deserve this!"

The words were tumbling out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop now. Every feeling you were giving him continued to push him towards paradise.

He had unlocked a hidden aspect of himself, one that craved the twisted pleasure that came from this dark encounter. The way he responded, eagerly admitting his worthlessness and desire for punishment, only fueled the fire within you.

"You're such a pathetic, filthy creature," you hissed, punctuating your words with another slap to his crotch, making him shudder and cry out.

Sukuna's moans grew louder, and he writhed beneath you, completely at your mercy. The pain, the humiliation, the pleasure—it was all merging into a chaotic symphony of sensations that threatened to consume him whole. He was nodding his head in agreement to your words. He didn't deserve more than the punishment you were giving him. He was pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

And then it hit him.

As his body convulsed and trembled, he felt the flood of emotions he had never allowed himself to experience before. The boundaries he had erected around his desires and vulnerabilities were crumbling, and he was exposed, raw, and consumed by the overpowering intensity of the moment. Sukuna's silent scream echoed in his mind, his eyes rolling back into his head as tears fell and streaked his face, snot dripping from his snivelling nose, drool seeping from his mouth with his tongue lolled out.

He came everywhere, ropes upon ropes of cum spurting from his cocks, thick and oozing and staining your hands and his flushed skin. His ambodmen flexed and trembled as he came, and his thighs rubbed together, veins bulging. Your hands left his balls and wrapped around each length, stroking and pumping out every last drop as he writhed and bucked into your touch. You marvellevd at the sheer amount of mess he could make as it clung to your fingers and slicked up your palms with each stoke.

Sukuna's claws dug into the ground, leaving deep gouges in the bone flooring as he sought some form of grounding in the midst of this tumultuous experience. The pain and pleasure had taken him to the brink of his own understanding, and his body's response was primal, uncontrolled, and desperate. He was no longer the composed and collected King of Curses but a mindless creature enslaved to pleasure, and enslaved to you.

You couldn't help but laugh, a triumphant grin dancing across your lips as you gazed down. "What are you, Sukuna?"

He could only drool and babble incoherently, his body squirming and writhing in response to the overwhelming sensations. The once-mighty King of Curses had been reduced to a quivering mess, incapable of forming a coherent reply. As you observed him, the power you held over him was undeniably evident, but it left you somewhat exasperated. You had expected more of a challenge from the formidable King of Curses, yet he had proven to be surprisingly vulnerable when faced with his own desires.

You paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in, and then decided to finish the sentence yourself. "Nothing. You are nothing to me," you declared, the words dripping with finality.

In that instant, Sukuna's eyes reflected a complex mix of emotions—humiliation, anger, and a hint of something resembling realisation. The reality of his vulnerability stung, and the acknowledgement of his insignificance cut deeper than any physical pain ever could.

Nothing.

a/n: this was written with spite. revenge for chapter 236. bitch. and yes, you will be exposed to silly little literature quotes n references. i will force feed you intertextuality. hugs n kisses to @lunerabo for some of the dialogue hehe. Happy Kinktober!!! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #꒰ ✑ ꒱ — they kiss consume #꒰ 🝮 ꒱ — kt 23 #sub ryomen sukuna #sub sukuna x reader #sub sukuna x reader smut #sub ryomen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut

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starrierknight · 8 months

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 17 / 08 / 23

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 24 / 01 / 24

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ fushiguro toji

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ fushiguro megumi

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ getou suguru

7 part series — 0/7 (planning)

1 fic (completed)

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ gojo satoru

Long, slow burn series (planning)

2 fics (completed)

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ higuruma hiromi

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ ieiri shoko

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ itadori yuuji

1 hc completed

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ kamo choso

1 fic (planning)

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ kashimo hajime

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ okkotsu yuuta

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ sukuna ryomen

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ tsukumo yuki

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ zen'in maki

Nothing in progress yet.

╭┈◦✰˗ˏˋ✎*ೃ˚⋆ multi-character

KINKTOBER 23'

Multiple works in progress — 12/31 I aim to complete 15/31 fics this year (2023) , and then finish off the rest next year (2024). this is a two year event! (⋆ˆ ³ ˆ) ✎~

𝐀𝐎𝟑: starrierknight

these works belong to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✰ ꒱ — my stars shine darkly #꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees

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starrierknight · 4 months

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╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓

pairing— dom!gn!reader x sub!getou wc— 2.1k cws/tags— established relationship, AFAB!reader, praise kink, fingering, thigh jobs, underwear stealing & m!masturbation, mirror sex, (unprotected) p -> v, various positions, edging, voyeurism, oral (reader & character receiving), free use, toys, restraints (shibari)

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐀 is for 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 (what they’re like after sex)

Suguru likes to be pampered, and he likes to shower you with as much praise and reassurance as he can, even if his throat is a little raw.

He likes to cuddle and admire you immediately after, but he finds it difficult to be totally comfortable until both of you have bathed, eaten, and rehydrated. For Suguru, aftercare is as much as a ritual as sex is. He needs to see that you're taking care of yourself, that you're taking care of him, that you're being kind to yourself, that you're being kind to him.

It's very give and take—very, "I'll wash your back because I know you'll wash mine." Speaking of which, he likes taking a long soak in a hot bath with you as a form of aftercare. The skin-to-skin contact, the intimacy, and the routine appeal to him. He wants to count on you.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐁 is for 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

𝐇𝐈𝐒: hands

Suguru's hands, in his eyes, have much to do with him as a human being. They're strong, sturdy, large, capable—he knows that if you permit him to lay his hands on you, he can be good to you. He loves the way his long, thick fingers look as they rhythmically bury and retract themselves from inside you, the way you moan and clench around him while whispering praise through clenched teeth.

That being said, he discovered that he has come to like the way his hands shake and tremble when you bring him to bliss, the way a few veins bulge as he grips he bedsheets or your hair. He never considered that he might enjoy this side of himself, but you seem to see the beauty in it... So, why shouldn't he?

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒: thighs

He can't help but love the way your thighs tremble when they are wrapped around his waist your his head when you're about to cum, knowing that he's doing well for you. The feeling if being wanted so viscerally by your body that it shudders is a reward, in his eyes.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐂 is for 𝐂𝐔𝐌 (anything to do with cum, basically)

Suguru loves to fuck your thighs. He loves the knowledge that he just so close to your pussy, to feeling you from the inside, and yet not quite there. It feels so good to tease himself and you, to watch how your eyes light up as his hips stutter and his fingers dig into the softness of your body.

And then finally, that sweet moment afterwards when his cum soaks the innermost softness of your thighs, and you're all his. Like his own, personal trophy—a testament to how much he wants you. That you're all messy, just because of him.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐃 is for 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Suguru steals your underwear, and he'd sooner die than admit it—regardless of whether you catch him in the act or not.

There's something attractive to him about how taboo it is that intrigues him, and that's why it begins. He had heard that some people stole their partner's underwear and never really thought too much about it until he gave it a try.

And then one afternoon, when you're not there, he wraps the softness of the then material around his cock and strokes. He imagines you wearing it, how it's been so close to you for such an extended period, rubbing against you so intimately, how it smells like you... And he cums so much faster than he usually would.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐄 is for 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced. Knows what he likes and what he expects, and he expects you to be as up-front with needs as he is.

Suguru was (canonically) popular in high school, even more so than Gojo was, so he definitely knows his way around the human body.

That being said, he has less experience with toys, other than vibrators. He's willing to learn if you'd teach him more, though. He's definitely curious.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐅 is for 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (this goes without saying)

Suguru is relaxed when it comes to different positions, so long as he can hold eye contact with you.

That being said, he really does love when you both fuck in front of a mirror and force him to watch it all happen. The added angle, the new perspective of how you ruin him so deliciously has him needy on a whole new level.

Roughly grabbing his chin to make him watch, or slowly coaxing him to see with sweet nothings—there's just something about having to confront his desperation for you that makes him moan just that little bit louder.

Honourable mention: cowgirl. He likes when he can feel the weight of you pressed against him and he can clearly see your face. The way he can hear your breathing pick up, and your hands scratching his shoulders.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐆 is for 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? e.t.c.)

As it goes, Suguru is so focused on the moment that he isn't really inclined to make jokes or get the giggles. He takes his role in making you feel good seriously, and not much breaks his concentration. He'll save anything funny he thinks of to mumble to you during aftercare when he's half-asleep.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐇 is for 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? e.t.c.)

It matches. He's more inclined to grow out his pubes, but sometimes he'll just feel like shaving them for the hell of it. If you have any particular preference, then he'll make an effort to go with that most of the time. He's easygoing.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐈 is for 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Suguru wants to feel you everywhere, he can't get you close enough. He could kiss you more, touch you more, feel you more. He can't keep his hands to himself, caressing every inch of you he can reach, mumbling praise that gets increasingly incoherent the more he moans your name.

He would always have the intimacy over mindless sex. So, with this in mind, he does not do 'casual' well. Hook-ups feel unnatural. Sure, they satisfy that craving like you'd scratch an itch, but that's it. He wants to feel connected, he's searching for connection in every crevice of your body, whether he wants to or not. Suguru just can't bring himself to leave.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐉 is for 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 (masturbation headcanon)

It's already been mentioned that he's an underwear thief, so let's expand.

Suguru cums too fast when he's got the soft cotton wrapped around his dick, his hips instinctively pushing into his fist and oh, God, it feels too good and he's made such a mess. His cum drips down his palm, sticky and wasted on the fabric, darkening the cloth and he's ashamed. How has it got to this point? He can't let it happen again.

But then it happens again—he's not the kind of man to learn his lesson the first time. He cums too fast, he regrets it, he wants to be inside you, he wants to hide from himself.

Again.

He shows more restraint, he barely lets the cotton or the lace brush against the leaking head of his cock, straining and weeping and so needy. He's good this time. Suguru is doing this for you. He knows you'd never let him cum so quickly. So he edges himself, gingerly curling his fingers around the length of it, his free hand caressing his chest as he slowly, slowly, slowly loses himself to you. But you're not there.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐊 is for 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 (one or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism. There's something about you existing freely, unaware of his gaze on you, in your natural state, that fascinates him. Suguru can't look away, not that he even wants to. It doesn't cross his mind.

But you do.

What are you thinking? He wants to know.

Suguru sees you and he wants to walk around in your mind, picking up each thought like an exhibit in a museum. He's watched you so much he can discern what subtlest of micro-expressions mean. It's only a matter of time before your thoughts orbit back to him, and then he'll be there, all smiles, all lips, all tongue. All you.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐋 is for 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you won't be interrupted.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐌 is for 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (what turns them on, gets them going)

Suguru is the kind if guy to offer help and be reliable, and he's used to being there for others. The moment that you, unprompted, step up and help him with a task that he could do himself, he wants to give you the world. Because you thought of him.

You saw him, you thought of him, and the idea that he could be on your mind, you choose to do this for him, and now he'll give you the world. Or head.

He'll definitely give you head.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐍 is for 𝐍𝐎 (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything unsanitary, excessive pain play (he's not up for getting a black eye) & spanking you, being suspended in the air, and orgies.

More specifically, Suguru gets turned off when his partner is obsessed with their own performance to the point where they seek constant validation. He dishes out praise with no problems, his reactions speak for themselves—if he feels good, he'll let you know. You need to trust yourself as much as he trusts you.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐎 is for 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 (preference in giving or receiving, skill, e.t.c.)

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: <- his preference

Suguru won't be rushed, he needs to have you as a whole, and just a taste won't do. Pious ministrations between your thighs that leave you gasping, keening out his name because you can't do anything else.

That's it, just keep your eyes on him, your mind on him. He's all yours, all you've ever wanted. Strong hands that grip your hips, urging you to press harder—begging you to indulge in the same hunger as him. Or maybe it's a thirst.

He licks his lips and savours each drop of you enough that it might be a thirst, but who knows? He'll have you raw.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆:

Moans and squirms away from you, good luck holding him down—he's strong. His face flushes with embarrassment. He doesn't know where to put his hands—your hair, your face—do you even want his hands on you? Will you punish him for it? Suguru loves you, it feels good, but he needs to be where you are.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐏 is for 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? e.t.c.)

The man oozes sensuality, regardless of pace, though do take your time with him.

Like, when you've got that look in your eyes, that desperate thirst to touch more than just his body—that's what drives him wild. Feeling wanted. Being wanted. It makes him want you just that much more, too.

Just hearing those quiet little gasps as he touches you in just the right place that drives him wild. Seeing your head tilted back as you close your eyes in pleasure, breath ragged and skin flushed—everything is worship if you're devoted enough.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐐 is for 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 (their opinions on quickies, how often, e.t.c.)

Quick and easy, no fuss, but low on his list of preferences. Prefers longer sessions where he can explore his partner and savour their reactions.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐑 is for 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? e.t.c.)

Yeah, he may or may not have, you know, massacred a village. However, he was just in a silly goofy mood. But not for sex. He's a fan of routine, and is slow to adjust to new changes. If you suggest something, be ready to explain in great detail why you like it.

(He may be playing dumb just so he can hear you explain why it turns you on.)

(He wants to hear what you'd do to him.)

(Won't you tell him?)

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐒 is for 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀 (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depends. How long can you last?

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐓 is for 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐒 (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Suguru is a big fan of vibrators, but particularly if you decide to use a bullet vibrator on him. If you feel like using toys on yourself, he's keen on touching you so he can feel your body tremble.

Paradoxically, he's a big fan of ropes (shibari) and being tied up. It's artful, it's vulnerable, and he's at your mercy. He can't get enough of it.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐔 is for 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 (how much they like to tease)

He takes it as a challenge to see how much teasing you can take before you cave in and fuck him. Every time.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐕 is for 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 (how loud they are, what sounds they make, e.t.c.)

Gasping out your name, loud groans when he tries to hold back from cumming too quickly, and breathy pleas and moans for you are very common. He talks as much as he can throughout it, letting you know how he's feeling and checking in to see how you are. So much praise, he'll do anything to spur you on.

Not loud enough to wake up a house, but loud enough to hear from the next room—if you live in an apartment building, then let's hope the neighbours are away often.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐖 is for 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 (a random headcanon for the character)

Free use. The trust of being freely available to you turns him on, it keeps him guessing, and the edge of unexpectedness because he'll be left wondering if he's on your mind. Suguru—for all the strength he possesses—is weak for that: you wanting him, and seeing you become desperate for him.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐗 is for 𝐗-𝐑𝐀𝐘 (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇: #BE9E8A 𝐓𝐈𝐏: #E5BDBD

Fully hard, he's 6.3 inches long (16cm) and 4.7 inches thick (11.9cm).

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐘 is for 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (how high is their sex drive?)

It fluctuates, some days he can want to have sex multiple times a day, and other times it just won't be there at all.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐙 is for 𝐙𝐳𝐳 (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If it were possible/hygienic, Suguru would fall asleep immediately. Still, after the whole aftercare ritual has finished and you've both cleaned up and unwinded, he'll cuddle up to you.

While he's quickly falling asleep, he might murmur a few funny things that crossed his mind while you both fucked. Good luck trying to discern what he's saying, though! He won't repeat it and he'll deny it if you ask him later. Spoilsport.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

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starrierknight · 5 months

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╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 — 𝐀-𝐆

pairing— dom!gn!reader x sub!gojo wc— 800 cws/tags— established relationship, AFAB!reader, pegging mentioned, brief dacryphilia, subspace mentioned

𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐀 is for 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 (what they’re like after sex)

Satoru insists on staying closer to you, saying he gets cold easily (despite feeling like a human heater), and you both know it's just because he wants to stay close to you. He likes resting his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, and he'll close his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face as he listens to your heartbeat calming.

Being Satoru, physical exertion is no real issue—his body recovers quickly. Emotionally speaking, he likes to check in with you, even if his throat is a little sore and it can be difficult to hear him. That's okay, he can just use it as an excuse to lean in closer. He wants to make sure that you had just as much fun as he did.

Loves gently trailing his fingers along your body, and he practically melts if you do the same, his eyes falling shut and sweet grin on his face. He whines and groans if you move too quickly; he knows that you should both bathe, you should both definitely hydrate and snack on something... But he can't help but want to indulge in the afterglow for just a little longer.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐁 is for 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

𝐇𝐈𝐒: shoulders

Satoru is proud of his body, his strength and all the work and hardship that fortifies it. He likes the way his shoulders look and how strong they are, he likes the way your hands and lips feel on them, and he loves the lovebites and scratches you leave across them.

He has a harder time admitting it, but he likes the way his shoulders shake when he cries and trembles. It's hard for him to find any pleasure in 'weakness', but that changes when he's weak for you.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒: chest

Can you blame him? It's soft and warm and near your heart. Satoru sees your chest and he just wants to worship it, be it with mouth or hands. Loves sucking deep, dark hickies across the softest parts of it—you can tease him about being fixated on it and he won't deny it.

He gets hard just thinking about how your chest moves when you fuck him in missionary or mating press, or better yet when you ride him and his face is so, so close that he can see your chest heave for breath. Even more so if you fuck him from behind and he gets to feel it pressing against his back as he trembles underneath you.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐂 is for 𝐂𝐔𝐌 (anything to do with cum, basically)

Satoru is so, so, so fucking messy. He never tires of crying and begging to cum inside you (if he's been good, maybe you'll let him). Seeing a hot, sticky load leaking out of your pussy and dripping down your thighs makes him dizzy—he's more than eager to cum for you again just to see the sight.

Another favourite place for him to cum is on your chest. What can he say? It appeals to the more possessive side of him again.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐃 is for 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you two decide to move in together, he'll secretly judge the interior spaces to see how well they might accommodate you both if you wanted to fuck there. He tries to be slick about it, but the way he eyes up the kitchen counters or the shower or even the window sills is pretty telling. Everything has potential, he might as well think it over. He just tells himself he's being realistic.

The same goes for furniture. God forbid you try to keep a straight face while shopping for a new bed—he insists on trying out every single one in the shop, and he'll drag you to lay down on it with him. You and him have busted a few bedframes in your time, so it's better to be safe than sorry, right?

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐄 is for 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Satoru is no stranger to sex, and he had perfectly apt skills before you two were a couple.

That being said, you definitely opened some new doors for him after you got together. He considers himself a better lover now, and you certainly have no complaints.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐅 is for 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (this goes without saying)

Satoru prefers it if you can both see each others' faces. He wants to be able to see your every expression, and he wants to be sure that you get a nice view of his every reaction to your touch. If you're making him cry and beg for it, then he wants you to see!

Often, this ends up being cowgirl, lotus, or mating press.

⋆ ˚｡★ 𝐆 is for 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? e.t.c.)

Let's be so fucking for real: this is Gojo Satoru we're talking about. D'you really think he can keep a straight face and be serious? Hell no!

Sometimes he'll whine out something particularly desperate and break out of subspace just to let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. If you both have a moment where your bodies come together and make a particularly lewd/loud noise, he'll get the giggles and maybe crack a joke.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

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starrierknight · 6 months

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𝟎𝟑𝟎. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲

You did his eyeliner and one thing led to another. Who can blame you, though? He had it coming (pun intended).

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 3.5k

pairing— soft dom!gn!reader x sub!getou

cw/tags— mirror sex, mommy kink (only by name, reader is otherwise gn), S&M, ruined makeup, dacryphilia, handjob, edging, orgasm delay/control, praise, humiliation, restraints (belt), dry humping/frottage, porn with feelings, plot what plot, petnames (pretty/sweet boy/thing), aftercare

The world was dark; the lights were low, and Suguru was where he should be—at your mercy.

You were straddling his lap, your fingers gently cradling his face while your other hand intricately applied dark eyeliner to his eyes. He reclined against the headboard of the bed that the two of you shared.

“All done,” you smiled, tossing the eyeliner pen elsewhere. You brushed a thumb over his cheekbone, admiring your work, as his inky black eyes fluttered open.

His eyes were framed with luscious, dark eyelashes. They're like midnight and seemed to swirl like pools of ink; The subtle swirls within them add an element of dynamism, as if they hold secrets waiting to be discovered. They have a hypnotic quality to them, as if luring you to come closer and drown, tempting you to see just how deeply you'll sink, how far you'll fall into their depths.

“How do I look?” he asked lightly, enjoying the way you drank in his appearance like this.

“Gorgeous.”

His silky hair was undone, cascading down his shoulders and a tad messy where you’d held it previously to keep his head still. Suguru (to most people) was all severe edges, all strength and hard stares; But for you, he was weak.

“Yeah?”

Responding with a soft and affirmative hum, your unoccupied hand glided along the surface of his T-shirt's lightweight cotton sleeve. A knowing smile played on your lips as you noticed the subtle tensing of his muscles beneath your touch. Suguru raised an eyebrow in response, intentionally tracing his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Oh, he knew what he was doing—it was safe to say that you both had each other figured out.

His hand, which had initially been placed on your lower back, sinuously moved to grasp your thigh. In the subdued light, he gazed at you, the shadows lending a glint to his eyelashes. Inclining his head slightly, he swept the tip of his index finger along the edge of your mouth.

He gracefully shifted away, putting on an act of feigning unawareness to the searing intensity of your stare fixed upon him. He flashed you a lopsided smile, bringing his forefinger and thumb together.

“Glitter.”

Despite Suguru's move away from you, the proximity was still compromising. He returned his attention to your face, noticing your eyes had darkened from your interaction, your jaw clenched. Blowing the speck of iridescence from his thumb, he shut his eyes, making a wish. He raised his gaze leisurely to meet yours, yet your focus remained captivated by his lips. Those gentle, rosy lips of his held an irresistible allure—he couldn’t suppress the smile that curved them. Testing the limits, he snaked a hand around the back of your neck and, just under your jaw, dragged his thumb along the line of your jugular vein.

“Suguru,” you rasped, tone of voice laced with warning.

He traced circles into your skin, touch so light it was barely there. But you were aware—so painfully aware—that it was, and that he was taunting you. His hot breath feathered the base of your throat, and you swallowed harshly at the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Something wrong?”

Fuck.

Snatching his hand away, you gripped the flesh of his arm so tightly crescent indents from your nails embedded themselves into his skin. You didn’t like being teased.

“Suguru,” you said again, voice low and dangerous, ”You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I don’t.” He toyed with the hem of your top, daring you to inch closer. “So, why don’t you show me?”

Swearing under your breath, your hand that originally rested on his cheek laced into his hair. You allowed him the liberty of a free hand, and his immediately smoothed down your back to the curve of your ass. He leaned forward, eyes closed, ready to feel your lips on his, only to meet the palm of your hand instead. He gave you a betrayed look. You smiled, eyes flashing appreciatively at the twinge of frustration that crossed his face.

As you twirled a lock of hair that framed his face around your forefinger, your attention was drawn to the shallow huffs of his breath escaping him. You trailed your fingers down the length of hair, kissing the tip before letting it go. The edges of your knuckles skimmed down his neck, past the crevice of his torso—satisfied with the wince he made as you adjusted your sitting position on his lap.

“Is that it?” He groaned, voice strangled with need. He wanted more—fuck—he needed more. Your lips on his, your hands on his skin—more.

Your amused hum rang through his body, spreading heat to the core of his abdomen.

Tugging his hair, you forced Suguru to expose the vulnerable parts of his neck to you. You ground downwards onto him through the material of his pants, peppering his jawline with open-mouthed kisses as he let out a breathy groan; starting near his chin and making your way to the base where his ear met his neck. Biting down lightly, you ran your tongue over the sensitive skin, earning a gasp from Suguru. His fingers dug into your hips—painfully, almost—leaving his own bruises on you to match.

So possessive.

Pulling away just a fraction, you caressed the bruised flourish with your lips, blowing a cool puff of air against the hot skin.

“Please,” he shivered; but God, revenge had never felt so sweet.

A feverish rush of heat surged through his veins, igniting a fiery lust. His stomach coiled and knotted with a mix of excitement and nerves, creating a swirling whirlpool of anticipation. At that very moment, there was nothing he wanted more than you.

With your lips still brushing the base of his ear, you murmured, “Please, what?”

“Please, mommy… just touch me, already.”

And you complied.

A tortured sound clawed its way out of his lips, a strangled moan that carried the weight of his desperation. He couldn’t take it anymore, your continuous teasing crumbling his old bravado.

“Finally,” he mumbled against your mouth, causing you to laugh into the kiss.

His large hands pressed against your lower back, pushing your hips against him. For a second you broke the kiss, tugging the soft flesh of his bottom lip before soothing it with your tongue. Your chest was flattened against Suguru's defined muscles, and you were sure Suguru could feel the frantic beat of your heart through your ribcage. Eventually, the both of you had to pull away, taking in deep inhales of air.

Grinding down lazily on his crotch, making a pitiable whine escape his lips, a sound born of both frustration and intense focus. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his face contorting with longing.

“Needy,” you teased, pulling yourself closer to him.

You nudged his legs open with your arms around his shoulders and neck, slipping your thigh between his. His breathing stuttered as your leg brushed against him, nudging his bulging cock constrained by the prison of his clothing. A tremor coursed through him, causing his body to shudder involuntarily. His nails scratched a path along your lower back, leaving behind a trail of sensation that mingled with a soft, needy whine escaping his lips.

You guided him steadily along your thigh, humping your leg, and he sighed, your hand reaching up to tangle in his hair as a shiver ran through his body. As you lazily ground your knee up against him, his hips rutted up, thrusting aimlessly, desperately searching for friction. His hand descended to the thigh suspended by his hip, fingers exerting a gentle yet possessive pressure as they made contact. Simultaneously, his other arm enveloped your waist, drawing you snugly against him, creating an intimate connection between your bodies.

He gasped and let out a hoarse groan as he used you to try and reach his high, burying his face in your neck and tightening his arm around you, keeping your upper body immobile. Your breathing was uneven, and your hips skittered along his thigh.

“Please, fuck—oh,” he groaned, and you felt his cock twitch in yearning through the material of his pants.

“Stop.”

“Wha–?”

You pushed him back by the shoulders to see his face clearly. “I have an idea.”

“Seriously? Now?”

You rolled your hips once, and whatever he might have said next got caught in his throat. “Maybe you can’t take it then.”

“I can take it,” he said through gritted teeth.

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

The buckle clinked as you secured it around Suguru’s wrists, supple leather of his own belt binding them behind his back, and he’s left helpless. You smoothed your hands up to his shoulder blades, resting them there as you placed your chin on his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror opposite.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands tied behind him and stripped from head to toe in front of a full-length mirror, with you kneeling behind him, thighs pressed on either side of his waist. His eyes were set resolutely on the floor, pointedly looking anywhere but at his reflection, or you.

“Is this okay?” you asked. He mumbled something so hushed that even from your seated position, the words remained unheard, carried away on the air before they could reach your ears. “Suguru?”

“It’s okay.”

You slowly kissed down one side of his neck, your hands running down his back and smoothing to wrap around his middle. You felt his muscles tense up under your touch, and goosebumps erupted on the surface of his skin as your breath fanned against it. You sensed his muscles coiling with tension beneath your fingertips, and a ripple of goosebumps surfaced on his skin, stirred by the caress of your breath. You held him steady in your arms, taking your time to worship him, and although he relaxed, he didn’t move.

“Then why won’t you look?”

His body seemed to sag slightly as he sighed. “It’s… embarrassing.”

“We go as far as you want, my love.”

It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts slotting into place before he answered. “No. I want this.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Completely,” he answers, eyes lifting to meet you in the mirror.

The expression he’s wearing makes your heart jump—it’s earnest and nervous, and full of adoration for you. You tilted his head towards you, capturing his lips in a searing kiss; a reminder that the risk was worth the reward, and a reminder that he was trusting himself fully to you.

Simultaneously, one of your hands travelled down his body to his already hard cock, slowly stroking it to build up a comfortable, but intense, pleasure. Suguru moaned into your mouth, breaking free from the kiss, and pushing his hips into your hand just slightly, knowing you’d pull away if he was too insistent. His eyes had scrunched shut, and his body leaned into you, searching for the pressure of your chest against his back.

You slowed your hand a fraction, your lips attaching to his neck as you sucked another dark bruise onto his skin, and you licked the new blemish, making him exhale as you bit down on it with your teeth. You continued to leave a trail of lovebites and kisses along his neck, noticing his breathing getting increasingly laboured, and you loved the way his body began to twist and push into your touch. Slowly but surely, you had built him up so that satisfaction had morphed into desperation.

You slowed your hand until it was barely moving. “Remember what we agreed?”

Your other hand raked its nails up the smooth expanse of his thigh, sinking into the plush flesh as the other suddenly quickened its pace. Suguru couldn’t help but sail into the stream of release, hips bucking upward, and so, so fucking close, your title on his lips. Right before the pleasure could roll over him, you pulled your hand away from his cock, and it was ruined.

He choked out a whimper, chest heaving with exertion as his body shuddered involuntarily.

“Keep your eyes on me, and no matter what, no cumming until I say your name. Got it?” He whined a weak ‘yes’. “Remember who you’re speaking to.”

“Yes, mommy,” he relented.

“Look up.”

“I can’t.”

Tender kisses dotted his shoulder, soft nips eliciting a gasp here and there. You knew exactly how to drive him mad with need, but he wouldn’t give in that easily.

“Oh, but you will, sweet boy.”

The soft pad of your thumb teased his slit, swiping across the aching head of his dick. It was just the smallest taste of what you could do—of how easily you could bring him to bliss. More kisses and bites marked his now burning neck and shoulders, the tiniest pressure of your fingers torturing his sensitive length.

Finally, instinct took over, and his eyes shot open the moment you stroked his dripping dick again.

“Follow my hand, baby,” you whispered.

He dragged his focus to your other hand, which was lifted just above him in the mirror.

With a deliberate slowness, your touch maintaining its gentle rhythm, you eased your hand downward to cradle Suguru's jaw. His resistance melted as he was compelled to confront his own reflection, captivated by the connection between your touch and his gaze—all desperate and needy for you.

The eyeliner you’d previously done for him was smudged, and the mascara on his eyelashes had dampened and clumped together with tears. He whined, eyes glistening, and the raw emotion on his almost painfully grimacing face had you enchanted for a second. His body had a thin sheen of sweat that gleamed in the low-light. His chest heaved, and he was arched into your hand as he searched for friction. He truly looked so beautiful like this, and you’d do whatever it would take for him to see that.

“Keep your eyes open, pretty boy. Don’t let them leave your reflection even for a second.”

You gave him a wicked grin before your hand pumped the fastest it had done yet, grip on his jaw tightening when he closed his eyes for just a fraction of a second. You stopped your movements, and he hurriedly opened his eyes for you again.

The cycle would continue, and each time he closed his eyes, you’d stop. Every time he corrected himself, you’d slow your pace as punishment, and every time he kept them open for a long while you’d speed up as a reward.

It was maddening, and nowhere near over.

“Where’d that attitude go?” you asked faux-sincerely. “You can take it all, can’t you, pretty thing?”

“Please, mommy,” he whimpered.

Thick, pearly tears gathered on his lashes, welling up in his pretty eyes as they smudged the black makeup, and rolling down his flushed cheeks. They shimmered and streaked his face, baby hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead, brows knitted together and the frustration just kept building.

“Look at yourself, baby. Look at how starved you are for me. Look at my hand between your thighs—your cock’s weeping—it’s aching for my touch. Look at your face, c’mon now. See it? You’re crying for me—such a pretty mess—you’re so gorgeous when you feel good. So perfect like this.”

“Please!” he cried out, “J-Just say it!”

You reached down, cupping his heavy balls, giving them a gentle squeeze and his mind goes blank. His mouth fell open with a silent moan, spit dripping from his lips down his chin.

“Won’t you put on a show for me, sweet thing?”

“I can’t—fuck—please. Please, mommy, I can’t t-take it,” he manages to moan out.

Your hand returned to his length, and your grip is feather-light. It’s moving at a torturous pace, barely even moving and yet he feels everything, though it’s not enough. Another cascade of tears spilt from his eyes, tracing damp trails down his cheeks, and a bittersweet ache coursed through him as the overwhelming intensity of pleasure bordered on aching bliss.

“Please, cum for me,” you moan sweetly, lips brushing against the shell of his ear and contrasting so greatly with the cruel smile you’re wearing.

“No, I c-can’t. Not until you–”

“Please, sweet boy, won’t you be good for me?” your deceptively saccharine words cut him off.

It provoked a near visceral reaction from him—shoulders drawn up as a chill ran down his spine. It’s like every one of his nerves was on edge, burning up from the release you kept denying him. Another broken sob escaped him.

“Just say it—please, mommy.”

“Doesn’t the suspense make it worth it, though? Isn’t it more fun to wait?” mockery dripped from your honey-like tone, the sadistic spark in your eyes glinting as he bucked into your hand.

The room seemed to pulsate with a heightened temperature, the atmosphere electrified. He felt like he was white-hot, a sensation akin to being searingly alive, as though your influence possessed an unnatural hold. He found himself incapable of resistance, unable to deny the power you exerted over him.

And yet, what if the punishment was worth it?

“I’ll leave you like this,” you chuckled, reading his thoughts. “Would you like that?”

“No! Please, I… I–”

“Beg for me one last time.”

The pressure had built so incredibly sweetly, and finally, you weren’t letting go.

“Please, s-say my name, mommy. I can’t… fuck, I can’t take it,” he sobbed for you, the words broken with gasps and moans.

“Cum for me, Suguru.”

You saying his name tipped him over the edge, squirming as he rutted shamelessly into your hand. Unintelligible thanks spilt from Suguru’s bitten lips, face contorting in ecstasy as he let out a guttural moan. His body seized up, legs trembling, and tears streaming down his face when he finally let go, and you held his chin to make him watch his reflection.

Thick spurts of cum coated your hand, and he’s moaning your title over and over like it’s all he can think of, watching himself come apart so easily for you and it just feels too good to be true.

“Fuck,” he panted, aftershocks washing through his body slumped into yours, too exhausted to continue.

“You did such a good job for me,” you murmured, brushing the hair away from his face. “Now just let me look after you, okay?”

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

The water sloshed around you both as you reached for a washcloth. Suguru was sat between your legs, full weight pressed against you as he leaned into the warmth of your body.

You cupped his face with one hand as the other gently wiped away the ruined makeup that stained his cheeks. His eyes were closed, and he rested the weight of his hand in your palm, enjoying the closeness.

“Suguru?” He hummed but made no move to speak. “I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you, you know.”

He slowly opened his eyes, face softening at your genuine expression. You looked at him as if he were some precious gem, holding him so carefully as if he might shatter, like glasswork.

“Thank you for everything,” he said quietly.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching over for the bottle of shampoo. You rubbed the liquid between your hands until it frothed, then weaved your fingers into the locks of Suguru’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly as you cleansed it.

“You’ve got Satoru’s birthday party coming this Tuesday, right?”

“I’ll be home late, then,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about that,” you said, ”I was just thinking… you might have some issues covering up the marks.”

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned, remembering that you had indeed barely left a square inch untouched from his neck down.

“Again?” you snorted, and he felt you shudder with laughter at your own joke.

“You’re gonna have to hide them for me.”

“Oh? And what if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Could be worse,” you muttered, before tilting your head to brush your lips against his in a soft kiss.

He caught your chin in his hand, cradling it with his index finger and thumb. The feather-light touch tickled ever so slightly, and you could feel him smile briefly as you ran a hand through his hair. His fingers slid along the curve of your neck and threaded into your hair as his thumb caressed your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your arms, and he only took it as an invitation to lean in more. His hand stayed on your chin, tilting it towards him for easier access. A minute, an hour. All he knew was how soft your lips were against his own.

Eventually, his lungs burned for air and you broke the kiss, still so close that you murmured sweet nothings against his lips as you pressed your foreheads together.

Then finally, you barely catch it but it’s there, you hear in the barest of whispers—

“The water’s going cold.”

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms. .

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starrierknight · 6 months

Text

⇢ ˗ ˏ ˋ ⋆ ✧ ･ﾟ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

wc— 400 cws/tags— gn!reader, horrendously sweet fluff, a little suggestive

sweet kisses where satoru's hands cup your cheeks, sliding down to cradle your neck as his fingertips graze the back of your hairline. soft, syrupy lips that could never say a word against you meeting your own as he sighs blissfully into your mouth. your fingers in his whispery, silver hair as you push those few locks away from his eyes that always seem to fall just as you pull away, and you know right then and there that he adores you.

playful kisses where you spend more time trying to pull him closer because he continues to pull away, biting the corner of his lower lip as those pretty blue eyes sparkle with mirth. satoru who laughs into the kiss when you do finally catch him, and you feel his lips curve into that all too familiar grin as he mumbles some snarky comment to you before kissing you harder. and when you do break away, he lets out the musical, satisfied laugh because he knows he's got you good.

stolen kisses that are so practised to perfection you could call him a thief, his curled forefinger tilting your chin up so he can press his lips against yours for those few, precious seconds while no one can see. that smug smirk on his face when he pulls away, flashing you a wink and pretending he's so innocent (though you both know it's just a promise of what will come the moment you're both alone—alone, where he's anything but innocent). how more often than not, he'll blow you kisses over someone else's shoulder just because he can, and he'll whine about it later that you didn't blow a kiss back.

desperate kisses where satoru's hands grip your shoulders to keep you close, his warm tongue sweeping over your lower lip and begging to be let into your mouth. your own needy hands sliding under his clothes to trace along his hips, making him keen and whimper into your mouth as his arms wrap around you, refusing to let you stray too far. his strong, broad chest pressed against yours and yet he trembles for you, because it's not close enough. so hungry, so starving he can't even choose one place for his greedy mouth to settle, so he latches onto the crook of your jaw and trails damp kisses along your skin as he whines against you for more, more, more.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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starrierknight · 6 months

Note

"Gojo fucking "oooooooooo, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" Satoru" ur so right but also i feel like the second u agree he just freezes. in his defense he didnt expect it to get that far 😔 he was just trying to be annoying 😔😔 i luv him

⇢ ˗ ˏ ˋ ⋆ ✧ ･ﾟ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

wc— 280 cws/tags— just pure fluff

"Oh, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid," Satoru drawled, leaning down to be at your eye-level, his lips curved into that all too familiar grin.

You raised a brow. "Yeah, alright."

A noise caught in the back of his throat, somewhere between an indignant laugh and an amused scoff. His eyebrows shot so far up his forehead they threatened to disappear into his hairline.

"You're not supposed to say that."

You reached a hand up and cupped his jaw, urging him closer. "Oh, is that right? We workin' from a script I didn't know about?"

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, making it bulge for a second as those pretty blue eyes of his darted around your features, finally landing on your lips. Right on cue, his fair cheeks flushed the most marvelous shade of cherry red, scorching to the touch.

"W-Well, I mean... I mean, I just, y'know, I didn't really-"

"-expect to get this far?" you chuckled, finishing the words for him.

The pad of your thumb brushed over his pink, pouty lips that begged to feel your own. His eyes shuttered closed and he let out a soft groan, puckering his lips to kiss the pad of your thumb before reluctantly pulling away. You'd wounded his pride.

"I'll so get you next time," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he dragged his eyes away from your smug face.

You let out a triumphant laugh. "Like hell you will, dork."

"Like hell you will, dork," he mimicked in an overly high-pitched voice. "You'll kiss me eventually."

You did, in fact, kiss him eventually.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #hi yes don't mind me i just. listen you sent the ask im amd my hands were possessed #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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starrierknight · 6 months

Text

𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

You both like the thrill of the chase, but he likes being caught more. You were fully willing to take advantage of this fact (and him).

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 5.3k

pairing— mean!dom!gn!reader x bunny hybrid!sub!choso

cws/tags— dubcon, hybrid sex, predator/prey dynamic in an incredibly literal sense, flatmates to fuckers, biting, ear/tail pulling (I promise it makes sense), thigh riding, petnames (“bunny” & “pet”), degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, choso is a closet pervert, implied masturbation at the start, this is a bit of a crackfic

Knock-knock-knock.

"Hey, are you free right now?" the unfamiliar, deep voice of your flatmate said, the sound muffled by the door.

You startled, quickly snapping your laptop shut, and straightening out your clothes and tugging up your shorts. The abrupt sound of the door and his voice had disrupted the peaceful cocoon of your solitude. The scent of your room, previously filled with the aroma of a fragrant candle, now carried a faint whiff of embarrassment as you hurriedly composed yourself. You cleared your throat, the dry rasp echoing in the room, and the sudden shift from the soft hum of your laptop to silence was palpable.

"Gimme a sec!"

You sighed in frustration after having been in the middle of your, ah, private activities, acutely aware of the residual warmth on your skin and the lingering taste of a guilty indulgence on your lips. God, why now?

You walked over to your bedroom door, partially opening it.

You were greeted by the sight of Choso, your reserved flatmate. In all the time you had shared this apartment with him since you moved in, you had spoken to him maybe half a dozen times, at a push. Your knowledge of him extended to a slightly obscure and dark recollection of his appearance—you were pretty certain he had black hair and black eyes, for example. The scant details of his existence in your mind were like faint echoes, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd even heard his voice.

The atmosphere around him was enigmatic, much like the dimly lit corners of your apartment at night when he was most active. Your sense of familiarity with him was akin to touching something in the dark and trying to discern its shape by feel alone. You hadn't even exchanged more than a few words with him since moving in.

So, it begged the question: Why now, of all Godforsaken times, had he knocked on your door? The uncertainty hung in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this rare interruption of your solitude. Nerves prickled your skin, and the soft buzz of anxiety hummed in your ears as you tried to read the situation.

His tall, broad, dark figure loomed over you in the hallway, his face hidden by the darkness. He had a lumpy-looking hoodie on, the hood drawn up over his head, and the strings pulled tight, making his silhouette rather unfortunately egg-shaped. In the dim light, the fabric absorbed the surrounding environment, giving him a spectral quality.

"I need to talk to you about something," Choso said flatly, his voice devoid of any discernible emotion.

"Something?" you repeated, the slight crease forming between your brows mirrored by a taste of irritation on your tongue.

The hallway closed in on you, and the tension thick between you, heightening your awareness of the details—his hooded silhouette and the soft hum of the apartment building's ventilation system added an eerie backdrop to the encounter.

Choso stared at you and said nothing. His inscrutable expression was like a dark void, offering no clues as to the nature of his issue. You huffed.

Reluctantly, you opened your bedroom door wider, inviting him to step inside and speak whatever his piece was. The hinges creaked softly, and a cool draft wafted in from the hallway, carrying the faint scent of the outside world into your personal space. As he entered, the rustle of his lumpy hoodie echoed slightly in the confined space.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click and walked over to your bed, plopping unceremoniously onto it. Despite your bedroom being considerably better lit by the soft candlelight scattered around your room, you still had a hard time making out Choso’s features clearly. Shadows danced across his lumpy hoodie, making his face remain hidden, and the flickering flames played tricks on your senses.

"Well?" you prompted impatiently, the sound of your voice breaking the silence and mingling with the gentle crackling of the candles.

He sighed, the faint gust of his breath causing the candles to flicker slightly. "Promise you won't laugh?"

You raised a brow, giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "No," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of stubbornness.

Choso nodded, as if a little sympathetic to your situation. He slipped his lumpy hoodie off, the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin filling the room. As he revealed more of himself, the candlelight danced across his now clearer form, allowing you to finally see his features more distinctly.

As you leaned in to see him more clearly, you couldn't help but be taken aback by the stark contrast between your preconceived notions and the reality before you. He was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered, with a physique that seemed at odds with his reserved demeanour. His incredibly pale skin, like porcelain, was warmed by the hue of the candlelight, giving it an ethereal quality. Every contour and muscle came alive in the shifting light.

His black eyes were deep pools, absorbing the candlelight and reflecting it back with a certain intensity. His long, messy black hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outwards, framed his face in a wild, untamed manner. Some strands of hair gently caressed his forehead, adding to his haunting allure.

Upon closer inspection, as you leaned in even further, you noticed his face was sharp and angular, with thin but expressive eyebrows that added depth to his gaze. His straight nose was perfectly sculpted, leading your eyes down to his distinctive feature—the thin, black, horizontal, rectangular tattoo that adorned his nose bridge.

The tattoo was his most striking feature, but if you weren't counting that, then there were the unexpected elements that truly set him apart—a pair of bunny ears perched atop his head, their velvety texture contrasting with his dark, flowing hair. Completing this ensemble was a fluffy white tail, its cottony appearance inviting a touch to verify its authenticity.

Wait, hold on a second… Bunny ears and a fluffy white tail?

You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh, the suppressed amusement creating a tickling sensation on your skin.

"Y'know Halloween is coming up, not Easter, right?" you quipped, your voice carrying a teasing note.

Choso groaned, hiding his face in his hands, his reaction palpable even in the dim candlelit room. Though it was hard to see, you had a good reason to believe that he was blushing, a subtle warmth colouring his porcelain complexion. This revelation only made you want to laugh harder, the sensation building like a wave within you.

"So you ordered the wrong Halloween costume. What's the big deal?" you chuckled, attempting to downplay the situation.

Choso's bunny ears twitched, a subtle movement that defied logic.

They... they twitched?

"It's not a costume," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

Your jaw dropped, and you spluttered in disbelief. "N-not a costume? Those... Those are your actual ears?"

He grimaced and nodded, still avoiding your gaze. Those were his real ears? Is this why he had hardly interacted with you, because he was hiding his 'bunny features'? The discovery left you reeling, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions filling your mind as you tried to make sense of the extraordinary truth before you.

In good bunny fashion, he slowly tiptoed over to your bed and sat on the opposite side, his ears drooping. The way he moved was oddly endearing, a blend of hesitancy and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he mumbled, his voice carrying a note of regret.

The pair of soft, black bunny rabbit ears were a delightful and charming sight, a surreal addition to this unexpected encounter. They looked velvety to the touch, with a plush texture that invited you to run your fingers across their surface. The deep black colour was rich and dark, blending in with Choso's hair, but creating a stark contrast against his pale skin. The enigmatic tattoo on his nose bridge gained new significance in light of this revelation, like a piece of a larger puzzle waiting to be deciphered. As you observed him, a profound curiosity washed over you, eager to learn more about the intriguing world that had remained hidden beneath his hoodie and in the shadows for so long.

You impulsively reached your dominant hand over and stroked one of his ears, unable to resist the allure of their intriguing texture. It was incredibly soft and plush to the touch, and running your fingers over them felt like stroking a delicate, silken fabric. They were adorned with fine, velvety fur that lent them a luxurious feel—so exquisitely soft to the touch.

"Wow... You're not kidding," you said with quiet awe, your voice hushed, afraid to disturb the delicacy of this revelation.

He stiffened and recoiled, looking at you with wide eyes, a mix of surprise and unease clouding his expression. He shifted away from you, instinctively retreating from your touch. You raised your eyebrows, curious about his reaction, and leaned forward, extending your hand gently to stroke his ears again.

"Hey, c'mere for a sec. Let me touch," you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring as you reached for him.

Choso, however, kept shifting away from you, his movements increasingly frantic, until he was almost completely dangling off your bed. The experience of revealing his hidden secret had left him clearly unsettled, and your attempts to comfort him had the opposite effect, pushing him farther away.

Your curiosity about his strangely endearing rabbit anatomy grew the more he recoiled from you. His eyes darted between you and the door, and the bedsheets rustled beneath you as you inched closer, your desire to explore this newfound aspect of his identity becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Then, unable to resist your impulse, you lunged forward.

Choso, however, was immediately ready to bolt away as you started moving towards him. His instincts kicked in, and he began to run, his legs and thighs moving quickly as he made rapid bunny hops, dashing away from your reach. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he ran, the delicate contrast of black against the dimly lit room a mesmerizing sight. His white tail wagged rapidly in this game of chase, and his athletic and swift movements made it clear that he was determined to elude your grasp.

Choso got to your bedroom door, threw it open, and dashed out into the hallway, his swift movements making it seem like he had vanished into thin air. But you, not one to give up easily, sprinted after him, your determination propelling you forward.

Choso, with his innate agility and a clear knowledge of the apartment's layout, made several quick turns and corners, using his familiarity with the space to his advantage and evading your pursuit. His bunny ears continued to flap in the air, and he occasionally glanced behind him to gauge your progress before making another sharp turn, running into yet another room and attempting to hide.

As you followed closely behind, your footsteps reverberated through the apartment, giving away your pursuit. Choso's white tail wagged rapidly in response to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he made more bunny hops, utilizing his speed and agility to the fullest in his quest to evade your grasp. The game of cat and mouse—or rather, cat and rabbit—had taken an unexpected turn, and the chase continued through your shared living space.

You skidded around a corner, your fluffy socks proving slippery on the hardwood floors as you made a valiant effort to keep up with Choso's rapid pace.

Choso, ever the elusive bunny-eared flatmate, saw you coming around the corner and anticipated your move. With a burst of agility, he made another sharp turn, dashing out of the room and out of your immediate sight. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he continued to sprint away, his athletic legs propelling him forward with impressive speed.

As he reached the kitchen, he couldn't help but call out, "I can hear your footsteps!"

His bunny ears twitched, as if to listen further, and his white tail wagged rapidly. He continued to make bunny hops, each one like a real rabbit's bound, as the game of pursuit and evasion intensified.

You changed tactics and stopped running, realising that a more stealthy approach might be the key to closing the gap between you and Choso. Instead of chasing him, you began to stalk quietly around the apartment, moving with deliberate caution to ensure that your footsteps remained silent and didn't give you away.

Choso, ever alert, immediately picked up on the change in your movements. His bunny ears stood straight, their sensitivity tuned to the faintest of sounds, and his fluffy white tail had stopped wagging. Tension radiated from him as he shifted into a state of heightened awareness, his eyes flicking around the apartment in an effort to spot any sign of your presence.

He began to worry a little, his black eyes flicking around as he tried to catch a glimpse of your whereabouts in the apartment. Remaining completely still, he strained to hear any faint sound that might give away your position. His ears were perked, each subtle noise amplified in his perception.

Choso's ears twitched at the faint noise emanating from the hallway. His senses heightened, and he remained perfectly still, straining to decipher the source and nature of the sound. His black eyes narrowed as he focused his attention on the hallway, ready to react to any potential movement or disturbance.

As the moments stretched on in silence, Choso remained completely still, vigilant and on the lookout for your next move. His bunny ears stood erect, capturing even the faintest of sounds, and his body remained tense, ready to react at a moment's notice. His white tail remained motionless, a clear sign that he was in full-on alert mode, on edge and anticipating your next attempt.

In the hushed atmosphere, you could hear his breath, slightly faster than usual, as he held it in anticipation. Each inhalation and exhalation was more pronounced in the quiet.

"Boo!" you exclaimed from a few meters behind him, and you lunged forward.

Choso flinched in surprise at the sudden exclamation from behind him, his rabbit instincts momentarily taking over. He swiftly turned to face you, only to be caught off-guard the moment you lunged towards him. His bunny tail wagged in response to his flustered state, and he made a light bunny hop to escape your reach, his athletic legs propelling him forward in a rush.

Clearly, you had caught him by surprise, and he was running away as fast as he could, employing his signature bunny hops to gain distance. His slightly red face betrayed his flustered state, and nervous giggles bubbled up from him as he continued to flee.

You chased Choso into the living room, and with nowhere left to escape, he found himself cornered. In a final act of pursuit, you lunged forward and tackled him onto the sofa, your laughter mixing with his surprised gasp as you both tumbled onto the cushions. You managed to pin his wrists above his head, straddling him in a victorious pose.

As you caught your breath, you both panted heavily, the adrenaline-fueled chase having taken its toll on your energy. Choso's body flushed a deep, red hue all over, and his features displayed a mix of shock and deep embarrassment. Your body on top of him in such an intimate position left him blushing intensely, his pale skin providing a vivid canvas for the crimson flush that had overtaken him.

In this somewhat awkward and unexpected moment, you were both left panting and gazing at each other. Choso's bunny ears laid back slightly, and his large, expressive eyes met yours with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and… and what on Earth was that?

"I win," you muttered smugly, your playful victory evident in your tone.

As you both caught your breath and your eyes met, you found yourselves in an unexpectedly intimate moment, just inches away from each other. Your gazes locked, and you peered deeply into each other's eyes, your chests rising and falling with each heavy breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to break through the bones of his ribs and run away.

"Well, I suppose you win..." Choso conceded, his rabbit ears drooping ever so slightly, a subtle sign of his disappointment. “Let me go now?”

"Don't I get a prize?" you murmured, smirking ever so slightly as you inched closer, your proximity intensifying the charged atmosphere.

Your playful question hung in the air, charged with a newfound tension that neither of you could deny. You licked your lips, a subtle, teasing gesture as you maintained unbroken eye contact with Choso, your gaze locked onto his dark eyes.

Choso's eyes slowly traveled down to your lips, his gaze fixating on the subtle curve of your mouth. He was entranced, his rabbit ears twitching almost involuntarily as his breathing picked up ever so slightly. His dark eyes remained locked onto your mouth, where he noticed the subtlest details, including the hint of your smirk and the shape of your canines.

As he continued to study your lips, Choso's eyes widened slightly, and he found himself unable to move, mesmerized by your presence. A faint, involuntary moan escaped his mouth, the sound barely audible even in the hushed room.

“Don’t… Don’t do this,” he whimpered.

Instead of going in for a kiss, you tilted your head to the side and bit gently into Choso's neck. Your unexpected move elicited a sharp gasp from him, his dark eyes widening in response to the unexpected sensation. Your hands, still firmly gripping his pinned wrists, curled more tightly, keeping him in place as you continued to nibble at his neck. The room crackled, and the taste of his skin and the sound of his rapid heartbeat filled your senses—God, he looked so helpless.

Choso's body shivered involuntarily under your grip as you bit his neck, his sensitivity to the unexpected sensation causing a surge of pleasure and excitement to course through him. Despite how tightly you were pinning him down, he squirmed beneath you. His hips lifted slightly off the sofa, a reflexive response to the thrilling stimulation you were providing. A low, muffled groan escaped his lips—something that sounded close to your name.

Your sharp canines bit deeper into Choso's neck, and he responded with a low, deeper moan that reverberated through the room. His hips grinded slightly against you, an instinctual reaction. His breath grew heavier and faster, each inhalation and exhalation punctuated by soft, low sounds of pleasure.

“No, no, no… Don’t, please… Ah, fuck…!”

Choso's bunny ears continued to twitch, a visible sign of the tension that had taken hold of him. Despite your firm control and grip, he began to move slightly, a silent plea for closeness and touch. His movements became more pronounced under your control and grip, an unspoken desire to get closer to you and touch you. His skin felt hot to the touch, the evidence of his arousal undeniable in the heated atmosphere of the room, at war with his mind which was begging for it to stop.

“It hurts… You’re hurting me, stop… No, no,” he whined.

Choso's response to your biting was undeniable. He let out a deep breath of pleasure, his body shivering in excitement as your canines continued to tantalize his neck. His lips formed a perfect "O" shape as he released the breath, and his bunny ears twitched slightly, betraying the undeniable excitement and pleasure coursing through him.

It was clear that he wasn't trying to resist your bite; On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation, despite his whines about it hurting. The pleasure experience far outweighed any discomfort, and his surrender to the moment was evident in his quivering body and the sounds of delight escaping his lips.

You pulled back from his neck, your breaths heavy and your voice dripping with desire as you whispered in Choso's ear, "You taste good. I think I'll have you."

His response was immediate, a loud whine escaping his trembling lips as he squirmed beneath you. His body was a tempest of emotions, a cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and unmistakable arousal.

While maintaining your grip on his pinned wrists with one hand, your other hand ventured to gently stroke the soft, black, velvet-like fur of his droopy bunny ears. The sensation caused him to shiver, a powerful response to the intimate touch.

"D-Don't... P-Please, don't," he mumbled pleadingly, his voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and desire.

But you weren't inclined to stop. With a wicked grin, you silenced his protests with a simple command, "Hush, bunny... Let me have my fun with you."

You didn't hold back as you ducked your head down and bit more harshly into the pale, sensitive skin of Choso's neck. He let out the cutest squeak of fear in response. You sucked and nibbled at his neck, your actions causing him to tremble and moan.

His moans, while not entirely lustful, were filled with a heady mixture of fear, excitement, and desire. Each tremor of his body and each moan that escaped his lips only fueled your passion and drove you to explore further. In another circumstance, you might have had the heart to stop, but the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressed against your thigh as he rutted his hips into you left little room for restraint.

“C’mon, now. Be a good pet and let me touch you properly,” you muttered into his ear, causing the last of his apprehension to crumble.

Your desire burned like a fire, and with fiendish strength, you tore Choso's thin cotton t-shirt, a symbol of your unrestrained desire for him. He gasped at the sudden action, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

As your hands traversed the now-bare skin of his muscular torso, Choso shuddered and groaned, his body responding eagerly to your touch. He leaned into your caresses, his desire mirroring your own.

Sensing his readiness and compliance, you shifted on the sofa to provide him with enough room to remove his trousers. Without protest, Choso stripped out of his trousers, revealing more of his taut, athletic body. With greedy hands, you pulled down his underwear, releasing his aching erection, which sprung free, throbbing with arousal.

"Well, aren't you a needy thing?" you laughed teasingly at Choso, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and desire.

You pulled him onto your lap, and he now straddled you, his embarrassment causing a deep shade of red to spread from the top of his head all the way down to his shoulders. His bunny ears laid flat against his head with shame, unable to meet your eyes.

Your hands settled on his petit waist, and you dragged him along your thigh, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but moan as his throbbing dick rubbed against your skin. His arms wrapped around your neck, an instinctive desire to hold you as close to his body as you would allow. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips as he looked at you imploringly, his need and desire laid bare for you to see.

"God, you're so fucking desperate to be touched," you laughed, your words dripping with desire, and you placed a possessive hand on the back of Choso's neck before crashing your lips together in a heated kiss.

Choso whimpered in surprise at the sudden aggression of your kiss, his cheeks flushing with desire and embarrassment. He couldn't help but emit light, quiet moans in response, the sensations overwhelming his senses. His bunny ears were twitching madly, and his entire body quivered at your rough touch.

His eyes remained closed as he surrendered to the passionate kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours as desire consumed both of you. As the kiss continued, the room filled with the intoxicating sounds of his heavy panting and the increasingly louder moans that escaped his lips.

Choso's face flushed even deeper as your fingers squeezed his bunny tail, the unexpected sensation sending a jolt of desire through him. Instinctively, he ground his hips against your thigh, seeking more of the electrifying pleasure you were providing.

His calloused hands roamed over your body, their touch possessive as they grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in closer and tighter. The intensity of his desire was palpable, his body tense and shaking as he felt the warmth from your hand on his tail. He couldn't help but make quiet, breathy whimpers and sounds as your deep kiss continued, your tongues exploring each other with fervour.

Choso continued to grind his throbbing cock against your thigh, the friction heightening his pleasure. Your hands fondled his ass and massaged the base of his tail, each touch driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

You pulled away from Choso's lips, and in a breathy, taunting whisper, you spoke to him, "You should see yourself, pet. Fucking my thigh like you're in heat."

Choso's response was a mixture of pleasure and desperation as he panted between moans, his voice a trembling with need. "Ah...! I-I can't help it... Feels too good."

Your hands continued to guide his hips steadily as he humped your thighs, his movements growing increasingly frantic. Pre-cum smeared messily across your skin where your shorts ended, evidence of his overwhelming arousal. His pretty cock was flushed an angry red at the tip, the desperate need for relief evident in every twitch and throb.

Choso's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his voice a fervent symphony of pleasure as he whimpered your name. His thrusts against your thigh became increasingly frantic and messy, his body shuddering with the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His fingers dug painfully into your shoulder blades, his grip on you tight and unrelenting, holding on for dear life.

Your taunting words only added fuel to the fire. "That's right, bunny. Moan my fuckin' name and let the whole building know I'm getting you off like a slut. Let them hear your voice—let them hear how disgusting you really are," you teased, your words charged with desire and dominance.

"Please, please... Oh, please! Fuck, I'm so... I'm so c-close," Choso cried out, his voice filled with desperate need and urgency.

Your wicked grin only widened in response to his pleas, and with a harsh tug, you pulled on the fluffy white tail at the base of his spine. The sensation was electrifying, and Choso practically screamed your name as he came on your thigh, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. He continued to rut against you, coating your skin in his hot, sticky cum, the sheer amount of it a testament to the depth of his need and desire.

As you watched him in the aftermath, you couldn't help but realize that your mysterious flatmate had been far more desperate for you than he had ever let on throughout your history of knowing him. And then it clicked:

He had wanted you all along.

Choso naturally began to slow his movements, his body slumping against yours as he buried his face into your neck. He whimpered your neck and pressed soft, damp kisses against your neck. Your grip on his hips didn’t falter, though.

"You're a pervert, aren't you, bunny?" you said teasingly as you pulled back to look at Choso's flushed face.

Choso's breath hitched, and his lips parted as if he were going to protest or defend himself, but before he could utter a word, you forcefully moved his hips, causing him to grind against your thigh once more. He yelped in response to the sudden stimulation, his cute dick still sensitive from his recent climax, and it continued to throb and drip with cum, staining your thigh. You maintained your control over him, keeping him forcefully grinding against you, and despite his whines and keening, he remained a willing slave to your lustful amusement.

"Oh, my God," you laughed cruelly, your words dripping with taunting amusement. "This has been what's getting you off ever since I moved in, huh? You've been touching yourself, wishing it was me fucking you all along?"

Choso's protest was weak, his voice trembling as he moaned and squirmed under the relentless overstimulation you forced upon his weeping cock. "N-No... Stop, I wouldn't," he protested, his words a feeble attempt to deny the undeniable truth.

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"Bunny," you continued, your voice low and sultry, "you've been wanting to fuck like rabbits this whole time, and you've been too embarrassed to ask. Now's your chance. Beg me now, like the dumb slut you are, and I'll be here to fuck you when you're desperate."

"Please… Please, please, please!" Choso cried out, his voice desperate and filled with longing as he moaned your name.

Your dominance over him intensified as you continued to drive him to the edge of ecstasy. "And what are you, pet?" you demanded.

"I'm… Please, please… S'too much… Too much," he gasped, his words coming out in short gasps as his powerful body writhed and shuddered. His hips continued to hump against your thigh, guided by your hands.

"You're a dumb fucking bunny, that's what you are. Now, say it," you commanded.

"I'm… I'm a… Ah…!" Choso's voice trailed off into a moan of pleasure and surrender, his body consumed by the intoxicating sensations you were inflicting upon him.

You narrowed your eyes, your superiority over Choso unwavering as your dominant hand reached up and clasped those soft bunny ears of his, tugging harshly. Choso's response was immediate and intense—he screamed and sobbed, the pain shooting down his neck and spine, sending waves of torment and pleasure right to his aching dick. Tears cascaded down his flushed cheeks as he moaned and whimpered, his pleas for gentleness and kindness filling the room.

"Say it, slut," you demanded, your voice firm and unyielding.

"I'm a… a dumb fucking b-bunny," Choso sobbed, his words a painful admission of submission.

You tugged on his ears once more, and his back arched in response, the sweaty muscles of his chest pressing firmly against your torso.

"That's right, pet. You're a dumb fucking bunny, and now, you're all mine," you laughed, your words filled with triumph.

Choso's response was immediate and explosive. He screamed your name and convulsed violently, his body wracked by the intensity of his climax as he came all over your thigh once again. The overstimulation proved to be too much for him, flooding his body with an overwhelming, painful pleasure that left him utterly and blissfully mindless. In that moment, all thoughts, inhibitions, and restraints were wiped away, consumed by the raw and uncontrollable desire that had drawn you together.

It was clear that he had become your loyal and devoted pet, forever bound to you. The future held untold possibilities, but one thing was certain—Choso had willingly surrendered to you, and you had claimed him as your own.

a/n: icl i got wayyyy too carried away with this. choso is such a gorgeous man and i need to ruin him LOL. god, i fuckin love bunnies. writing this has permanently altered my brain chemistry, i think. Happy Kinktober! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #꒰ ✑ ꒱ — they kiss consume #꒰ 🝮 ꒱ — kt 23 #choso kamo x reader smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #sub choso kamo x reader #sub choso kamo #tw dubcon

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starrierknight · 6 months

Text

𝟎𝟐𝟕. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝❟ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

You don’t work or play by the rules. So what if that’s unfair? This is a dog-eat-dog world, and the losers get left behind.

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 4.4k

Pairing— femme fatale!dom!gn!reader x CEO!sub!nanami

cws/tags— dub-con, blackmail (non-consensual filming), sadistic & manipulative reader, reader is gn but has the femme fatale personality, handjob, denied orgasm, very dialogue heavy, petnames (“mister”—it’s ironic, I swear), seduction, porn w/ plot, nanami is def ooc but we move

Stepping into Nanami Kento’s office, you were greeted by an aura of opulence. Mahogany desks and leather chairs exude sophistication. Sunlight filtered through expansive windows, casting a warm glow on plush carpets. A massive desk stood at the centre, impeccably organised with high-tech gadgets. Bookshelves held volumes on leadership and success. A cosy seating area boasted a plush sofa for informal discussions. Crystal decanters held aged spirits atop a sideboard. The atmosphere is both commanding and comfortable, a reflection of power and accomplishment, much like the CEO himself.

“You're late,” Nanami said, his voice monotone.

His words slid out with the click-clack of his keyboard, his gaze fixed on the screen as he typed away. You stepped into the room, the gentle swish of your clothing brushing the air as you approached.

“I'm not late,” you responded, your voice a composed counterpoint to his. “You’re just early.”

The subtle rustle of paper on the desk danced beneath the weight of your words. A faint huff of a sigh escaped him, a sound as controlled as his meticulously timed schedule. Disciplined. Unflappable. A smile ghosted across Nanami's lips, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“You're my personal assistant,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of authority, “and I'm the CEO, ergo, I am always on time.”

"My, my," you remarked playfully, "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

You glided across the expanse of the office, the soft rustle of your steps harmonizing with the gentle fluttering of a neatly organised stack of colour-coded papers as you set them down in a tray. A wry smile tugged at his lips.

"You're well aware that my patience for idle chatter is limited, and yet you persist in indulging in it," his voice rippled, a controlled undertone of exasperation tracing each syllable.

A subtle sigh slipped from your lips, and you found yourself easing against the edge of his desk, a connection between you and the polished surface. His fingers danced across the keyboard, a symphony of clicks and clacks that held his full attention, leaving you in the periphery.

"Any luck in your pursuit of the elusive mole?" Your words held a touch of frustration, "It's as if the leaks are gaining a life of their own, more persistent with each passing day."

In response, Nanami emitted a contemplative hum, a low note that resonated like distant thunder. "No luck so far," he mused, his voice a steady rhythm. "I’m having the matter investigated."

“You keep saying that, but nothing’s changed. You’re no closer to finding them, are you?” you spoke with a hint of weariness.

"That's classified information," he responded absentmindedly, his attention still tethered to the computer.

A wisp of frustration danced through your tone, like a fleeting shadow cast by a cloud passing over the sun. “I’m your personal assistant. I work for this company. Don’t you think I should know?”

"No," his response fell with the weight of finality, a single syllable that seemed to close the door on any further discussion. “Oh, and please rearrange my appointments and schedule them to be spread out over next week. Make sure they’re at quieter times,” Nanami's voice rolled out, a desert breeze carrying his words with a touch of dryness.

His instructions hung in the air, like a solitary tumbleweed drifting through the vast expanse of conversation. Tense. Stiff.

“Right. Of course, I’ll handle that,” you said with a tight smile.

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

As you stepped into Nanami's office once again, the day's familiarity seemed to have taken a toll on him. The air felt different, thick with a weariness that hung around him like a heavy shroud. Unlike his usual poised stance, he now slouched in his chair—an uncommon sight that hinted at the cracks beneath his composed exterior. His blazer lay discarded, and his tie now hung in a relaxed loop, an admission of defeat.

"Hey, mister?" your voice was a gentle note, carrying with it a touch of casual familiarity.

A low, almost exasperated groan rumbled from his throat. "I've reminded you before not to address me like that," he muttered, his response laced with a note of resigned annoyance.

Your lips curved into a playful smile as you ventured further into the office, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. "You know, deep down, you don't mind it."

A heavy sigh accompanied his response, a mixture of exasperation and resignation. "I assure you, I do indeed mind it."

Your retort danced through the air like, a sing-song lilt that brushed against his ears. "Oh, but I beg to differ. It's just one of those little things that make our interactions all the more interesting, mister."

A grumbled complaint slipped from his lips, a muttered protest that bore the weight of his vexation. Your soft laughter swirled in response, a ripple of amusement. Despite his discontent, there was a subtle warmth in the air, a familiarity that seemed to soften the edges of his irritation.

Taking purposeful steps, you approached his desk with an air of ease, your movements a graceful choreography as you began to tidy the scattered papers, pens, and stationery that lay strewn across its surface. You leaned your phone against a stack of folders, propping it up. The soft clinks and rustles of objects finding their proper places formed a familiar symphony of order being restored.

Seated now on the edge of his desk, your presence became the focal point of the room as you regarded him with a tilt of your head. Your gaze held a mixture of intrigue and amusement, a silent reminder that amidst the rigors of his role, a moment of reprieve was found in your interactions.

“You’re looking a little worse for wear. Is something the matter?”

Nanami’s response was a heavy exhalation that held a burden of weariness too profound to be carried by mere words.

"Another breach occurred not long ago," his words carried the weight of a confession, spoken with a tinge of resignation. His eyes remained closed, a refuge from the world's chaos that seemed to press upon him relentlessly. "This time, it's worse. The most sensitive data yet has been exposed to the public. PR is grappling with the fallout, and Finance is in utter disarray."

"And so soon after the last one," you murmured, the words gentle. “You look tired, mister. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

He rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers, a gesture of both fatigue and frustration, and at last, his eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Even from a distance, the telltale shadows under his eyes were evident, testimony to the toll his responsibilities had exacted.

"Don’t call me that," his voice emerged rough and worn. Exhausted.

Undeterred, your inquiry persisted, soft yet insistent. "So, tell me—have you been caring for yourself?"

A moment of stillness hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of unspoken thoughts. Then, his reply emerged, a sentence that bore the weight of conviction. "My primary duty is to safeguard the company."

A playful glint sparked in your eyes, and your expression shifted into a mockingly stern glare. You smoothly slid off the edge of the desk, your movements fluid and graceful, as you began a deliberate saunter towards his side of the desk. With each step, a subtle sway graced your hips, a movement that was both confident and teasing in nature. The air seemed to carry a touch of lightheartedness, a momentary diversion from the weight of the situation at hand.

A theatrical tsk escaped your lips, carrying with it a sense of exaggerated disappointment to playfully scold him. "Oh dear, dear mister. Letting yourself go to ruins is simply unacceptable. As your ever-watchful PA, I can't stand by and let you suffer."

With purposeful steps, you rounded the desk, your movements fluid and deliberate. The air seemed to hold a hint of anticipation, a quiet thrill woven into the atmosphere.

As you stood behind his chair, your hands found their way to his shoulders, their presence an assertion of care. Your touch was confident, fingers dancing with practiced skill as they worked to knead away the knots of tension that had taken residence in his muscles. He stiffened beneath your touch, a reflexive reaction to the unfamiliar sensation, yet your assurance seemed to melt the resistance away. While surprise lingered in the air, there was also a sense of yielding, a quiet acceptance of the relief you offered.

Nanami's words carried a note of reluctance, a protest against the unexpected intrusion of your care. "I didn't ask for this," his voice murmured, a touch of reservation threading through his words.

A knowing smile curved your lips, your fingers working with practiced ease as you continued to knead away the knots in his shoulders. "You didn't need to ask," you replied smoothly, your tone carrying a touch of reassurance that seemed to seep into the very air around you.

A brief silence settled between you, punctuated by the rhythm of your touch. Then his voice emerged once more, a murmur tinged with both realization and resignation. "You're my PA."

"And what does PA stand for?"

His reply held a touch of understanding, a recognition that seemed to settle the matter. "Personal assistant."

"Exactly," you whispered, “I’m your personal assistant.”

You let the silence hang in the air. Your hands continued their gentle ministrations, the cotton fabric of his shirt crinkling beneath your fingertips. As your fingers traversed the landscape of his shoulders, they encountered the subtle contours and defined edges of a physique sculpted by discipline.

Time seemed to melt, a river that flowed at its own unhurried pace. Slowly, the tension in him began to yield, a reluctant surrender that mirrored the reluctant acceptance in his posture. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to wane, at least momentarily, under the soothing spell of your touch.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, a melodic note that floated through the air as your hands continued their soothing dance.

"You really ought to take better care of yourself, mister," your words held a touch of playful admonishment, a reminder woven with concern. "Your muscles are like a stone wall."

The response that came was curt, his voice carrying a note of irritation as he pushed back against your insistence. "I'm fine, and I've asked you not to address me that way."

"How many nights have you found yourself working overtime again?" Your question hung in the air like a gentle nudge, an invitation for him to acknowledge the reality of his situation.

A pause, and then his voice emerged, a touch gruff yet revealing of the underlying truth. "It doesn't matter."

A note of knowing crept into your voice, “Doesn’t matter? You hate working overtime.”

"I'm the CEO, and I must prioritize what's in the best interest of the company, regardless of the personal cost."

A contemplative hum escaped your lips as your skilled fingers traveled to his neck, where tension seemed to have found another stronghold. His reaction was a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, his gaze meeting yours with a furrowed brow and a hesitant parting of his lips that hinted at a forthcoming objection, yet it remained unspoken.

The soothing pressure of your fingers worked its magic, coaxing the knots to unravel beneath your touch. As you continued your massage, a question emerged from your lips, gentle yet probing. "So, if you don't take care of yourself, then who takes care of you?"

Nanami’s response held an air of stubborn independence, a declaration of self-sufficiency against the encroachment of care. "I'm an adult. I don't need anyone to look after me."

Your voice dipped to a murmur, a whisper that seemed to bridge the gap between you and him, and your warm breath brushed across the nape of his neck. "Who takes care of you?" you repeated, your words a gentle caress against his skin.

His response, however, was unwavering, a declaration that seemed to echo with an unyielding determination. "I take care of myself.”

A playful smirk curved your lips as your fingers wove through the strands of his sleek, blond hair, a gesture that seemed to stir a reaction deep within him. His breath caught in his throat, a shuddering exhale that betrayed the impact of your touch.

“Some things are better done by yourself… some things.”

You leaned in closer, your presence enveloping him as the back of Nanami’s head nestled against your chest. The warmth of your body radiated against his back as your skilled fingers continued their massage, now tracing delicate patterns across his scalp. Your nails grazed along the tender areas, setting off a cascade of sensations that seemed to quicken his breath.

The combination of your sinuous touch and the implications woven into your words created a heady tension in the room. His heart responded with an erratic beat, a rhythm that threatened to betray the carefully impassive expression he wore. Yet, he remained composed, a façade of control in the face of the enticing distraction you presented.

“Is it hard?”

His breath hitched, and he coughed. “P-Pardon?”

You let out a soft, knowing laugh. Leaning closer, your lips brushed the delicate shell of his ear, your words a sultry whisper that set his skin ablaze. “Being CEO. Is it hard, Kento?” you murmured, uttering his name with a familiarity that had been absent for far too long.

It was as if a barrier had crumbled, a threshold crossed, and the effect was electrifying. The weight of his name on your lips seemed to hang in the air like a revelation. After a year of playful nicknames—of godforbidden “mister”—and dances around formality, this simple act held a weight of significance. Oh, his name had never sounded so sweet in his entire life.

With an effortful composure, he replied, his voice carrying a veneer of forced calmness. "It's perfectly within my control."

The sound of your voice, the proximity of your breath, seemed to amplify the tension in the room. He closed his eyes, as if seeking refuge from the turmoil that swirled within him, struggling to steady his breathing.

But your words, like a siren's song, continued their subtle seduction. "Stressed, Kento?" you purred, the name a velvet caress against his ear.

As your hands slid down, tracing the contours of his neck and finding their way to the concealed muscles beneath his shirt, his heart quickened its rhythm. A smile, hidden from his view, danced upon your lips, a sign of the satisfaction you derived from the effect you had on him. You pressed a kiss upon the sensitive skin just below one of his earlobes, a gesture that sent a shiver through him. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, the air electrified by an unspoken desire.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

“You want me to,” you murmured back, “And you want it badly.”

Your hands continued their exploratory journey, tracing a path of tantalizing sensation down his chest, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. They ventured lower, gliding over the firm expanse of his abdomen, mapping the contours of his physique.

As your fingers descended further, they encountered the defined muscles of his thighs, your touch igniting a web of sensations that seemed to pulse through his body. He remained still, his breathing now increasing, his body responding to the magnetic allure of your touch. The room pulsed with a charged energy, begging to be acknowledged.

His hands closed around your wrists, putting a halt to the tantalizing journey of your hands, but they didn't push you away. The tension in the room hung thick, a precarious balance between restraint and desire.

"This is a workplace," Kento protested, his voice carrying a note of caution.

A playful spark danced in your eyes as you retorted, your words dripping with a seductive undertone. "Who says this won’t be for work?"

With a tantalizing grace, you lowered your head and pressed your lips to his neck once more, trailing kisses along the warm, sensitive skin. Your tongue and teeth teased over the surface, each movement a deliberate exploration that sent a shiver of longing through him.

“Oh, c’mon. You know you want it. I can feel it—you sure as hell can. Why deny yourself the satisfaction?” you murmured into his ear.

You lightly bit his neck and he gasped, his heart skipping a beat, and his grip on your wrists faltered. You took the opportunity to slide your hands to his thighs again, caressing the inner and most sensitive parts. He made some noise of desire in the back of his throat, his breathing growing ragged.

A low, sultry chuckle accompanied your whispered words, the sound a velvet invitation that seemed to stir the air around you.

"Don't be coy," you murmured into his ear, your voice a honey-like whisper that washed over him. "You want this as much as I do, Kento. I can feel it, and so can you. Why deny yourself the satisfaction?"

Your teeth grazed his neck lightly, a tantalizing nip that sent a shiver coursing through him. His grip on your wrists faltered, and you seized the opportunity, your hands slipping back to the sensitive terrain of his thighs. Your touch was delicate yet insistent, caressing the innermost and most sensitive parts. A guttural sound of desire escaped him, a primal expression of longing that mingled with his ragged breathing. The office walls seemed to close in around you, as if the world outside had ceased to exist, and it was just you and Kento’s desire.

A low, tormented groan escaped him as his eyes fell shut, his internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow. “This is so wrong.”

Your voice was a velvet caress as you posed your question, a tempting proposition that seemed to hang in the air like a forbidden fruit. "Is pleasure so wrong, Kento?" you purred, "Don't you deserve this?"

Desire ignited like a blazing fire, consuming every trace of resistance that had remained. As your dominant hand found its way to the growing bulge concealed by the fabric of his trousers, he couldn't help but release a breathy groan. His hips, almost imperceptibly, moved in response, a subconscious plea for more. Desire coursed white-hot through him, pooling between his thighs.

His hoarse mumble was a plea, a desperate attempt to reassert control in the face of mounting desire. "You should stop," he rasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of longing and restraint.

Your laughter, low and seductive, rippled through the air, brushing against his ear and sending shivers cascading down his spine.

"You don't want me to stop," you countered, your words a teasing assertion that seemed to strip away the last shreds of his resistance.

Kento's hands gripped the armrests of his chair with a desperate intensity, his knuckles whitening as he fought to maintain his grasp on composure in the face of overwhelming temptation.

Your words were a siren's call, a sultry enticement that seemed to draw him deeper into the vortex of desire. "C'mon now," you coaxed, your voice a velvet temptation, "You want me to touch you, to make a mess of you, to take care of you like no one else ever has."

With a confident touch, you rubbed the growing bulge between his thighs more firmly, causing his breath to hitch and a shuddering groan to escape his lips.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise that dripped with seductive allure. "Yes," you affirmed, your words a whispered caress, "Like no one else ever has."

Or will… You smirked.

As you unzipped the fly of his trousers and began to tug them down his strong thighs, Kento obediently lifted his hips to assist you in the tantalizing descent. The anticipation in the room was palpable, the air thick with desire.

The hard, throbbing length beneath the thin fabric of his boxers was damp along a certain path, evidence of his heightened arousal. Your finger pressed against the dampness, and Kento hissed sharply through his teeth. It was as if a current of electricity shot through every nerve in his body, pooling at the base of his spine, aching need pulsating within his throbbing cock.

With a tantalizingly deliberate movement, you pushed his boxers away, unveiling the long, aching length of his erection as it sprung free from its confinements. His breath caught in his throat at the sudden sensation of freedom and your touch.

One of your hands ventured down his body, seeking the source of his arousal, and you began to stroke him with a measured pace that balanced comfort and intensity. A deep, throaty moan escaped him, and he couldn't help but push his hips forward ever so slightly, a silent plea for more, tempered by the fear that you might pull away if he was too insistent.

His eyes remained shut, his body leaning into you as if seeking the reassuring pressure of your chest against his back. Every stroke of your hand sent waves of pleasure rippling through him, building an exquisite tension that threatened to tip him over the edge.

Your words dripped with wicked allure, a sultry taunt that sent shivers of desire racing through him. "You can't even deny how badly you need this," you cooed, a wicked smirk gracing your lips, your voice a seductive melody.

“Please…”

A guttural plea escaped him, his voice strained with longing as he groaned, his brow furrowing in desperation. Beads of perspiration formed on his skin, glistening in the office light.

Your touch was a maddening tease, the soft pad of your thumb tantalizingly swiping across the aching head of his cock. It was a taste of what you could do, a whisper of the pleasure you could elicit, the gentle pressure of your fingers a torment that electrified his sensitive length.

Kento's breathing grew more ragged, his body quivering with anticipation and desire. Every stroke of your thumb sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him, a tantalizing promise of the ecstasy that lay just beyond reach.

His hips bucked urgently into your hand, a desperate quest for the all-consuming release that eluded him. A guttural moan erupted from his lips, echoing through the room, and you silenced it with your free hand, your fingers pressed against his lips. In his ear, you whispered teasing, shushing sounds, a sensuous torment that only served to stoke the flames of his desire.

The tension in the room was palpable, a relentless crescendo of longing that seemed to spiral upward with each passing moment. His body quivered with anticipation, his heart raced, and he could feel the precipice of his orgasm looming ever closer.

"You know," you breathed, "I've waited a long time for this moment."

As if to emphasize your words, you slowed the pace of your hand, your touch a slow, torturous caress that seemed to drive him to the brink. He groaned in response, his head hanging low, his hips stubbornly seeking the pleasure that danced just beyond his reach. The room seemed to hum with desire.

In the throes of ecstasy, just as the climax threatened to wash over him, you removed your hand with cruel precision, a disdainful gesture as you wiped it casually on the shoulder of his expensive shirt. Kento all but cried out at the sudden loss of sensation, his whole body shuddering in response.

He groaned in frustration, his eyes filled with pleading confusion as he looked at you, the desperate desire still flickering in their depths. The room seemed to hang in a suspended moment, a tableau of torment and longing that left him on the brink of fulfillment, yet denied the release he so craved.

Your laughter, low and sardonic, filled the room, a taunting echo that seemed to reverberate in the air. With a saunter, you circled around his chair, moving to his desk and retrieving your phone, which had been propped up against a stack of folders. The video on the screen was ended, freezing the moment of his desperate longing.

"Quite the performance, Kento," you taunted, your words a playful mockery that laced with satisfaction.

The boundaries of the office had been breached, and the power dynamics had shifted in a way that left no room for doubt—you openly held the upper hand.

With a bold flourish, you lifted your phone high, turning the volume up to ensure every nuance of the recorded encounter could be heard. You skipped through selected sections of the video, each moment meticulously chosen to capture the essence of the temptation and desire that had unfolded within the confines of the office.

As the video played, the room seemed to resonate with the sounds of his seduction, his pleas, his moans—each intimate detail laid bare for him to witness. There was no avoiding it; the evidence was undeniable, and it hung in the air.

His chest rose and fell with the turmoil of emotions, and a betrayed expression contorted his typically composed features. The question escaped his lips like a lament, a whispered plea for understanding: “Why?”

Your posture exuded an air of casual indifference as you leaned against his desk, a playful tilt to your head that underscored your enjoyment of his discomfort. His question seemed to hang in the air, unanswered, as you chose to focus on the task at hand.

"So, Kento," you murmured, your tone a seductive tease, "What should I leak next: more of the company's closely guarded data, or this scorching little video?"

A mixture of disbelief and regret tainted his muttered words. "How... H-How could you?"

Your laughter was a sharp retort, a mocking response to his question. "How could I? Oh, Kento, you're so fucking naїve."

His gulp was audible, his voice barely above a whisper as he ventured, "How much is it you want, exactly? What's your price?"

A sly grin curled upon your lips as you leaned closer, your words dripping with seductive allure. "I want everything you can give me."

a/n: he (effectively) lost his job by getting a handjob LOL. poor guy. jokes, idc, this was written out of spite. Happy Kinktober :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

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