#also i only got like 2 hours of sleep lol

[semiotomatics]

🎶✨when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers/mutuals (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨🎶

ty 💚 always love sharing music

[keeps-ache]

think this is funny. anyway. the Thoughts are back at it again

[the-spoingus-show]

my current project: jump forever!

this is the first of those scheduled posts i mentioned earlier!!! i figured i would start by talking about my current project - that way i can start posting updates about it without confusing you, Michael. The next post is gonna be about the beginning of this whole Godot thing i've been on, and then i'm thinking about maybe doing a Before Godot post as a bonus once i've talked about all my godot stuff (i love saying this as if anybody cares (besides you, Michael)). setting all that aside, though: this one's gonna need some backstory, so you should buckle in.

around this time last year, me and my little cousin (he's still in high school, but we've always been pretty close) got really competitive about a little game called Jump Forever. it's a side minigame from WarioWare Mega Microgames (the GBA one) where you just jump over a little rope until you fuck up. it's really fucking fun as an addictive little mobile game, and with a quick lil emulator it was one. thus, the addiction began.

truth be told, the phase last year didn't even last that long, but i had a long bus ride a couple of weeks ago and found myself opening the GBA emulator on my phone to pass the time. that led to a little bit of playing at home, which led to beating my cousin's score, which led to getting even more into the game than i was before. as our scores get higher, we've turned to better controllers than a phone touch screen for serious record attempts - i use a ds lite i had lying around (that i reshelled! it was very fun) and he emulates on pc with a controller (i think). this got me thinking about a potential "definitive edition" of the game - probably still on mobile, but with controller support, better touch controls (the game only needs <-, ->, and A!), faster resets, selectable skins, and maybe even unlockable skins? of course, when i finished my work on fnaf (ooh foreshadowing), my sights were immediately set on a Jump Forever remake.

with all that said, welcome to the game as it currently stands! at the moment, i've got wario, the rope swingers, and the score all just about set up, with one exception; the characters have collision, the rope swings (at varying speeds, even!), and wario's speed and physics feel very accurate - but i'm still working on the ai (if you can call it that) of the rope guys as they walk back and forth. i want it to work exactly the same way as it does in the original but i always overthink random mechanics like this. hopefully the next update i give will be about how i cracked it! even if the implementation ends up jank, though, it wouldn't be the first: the rope guys check if wario is too close to them to make it over the rope with an Area2D that just checks for wario when the rope hits the ground. it works! i could just like check wario's position in the code (and it'd probably be way more efficient), but this way just... works.

i still have a buncha crap i still gotta implement before the game's even really playable - the walking ai, the title screen, the little "Ready?" animation, etc. - but that's only the beginning of my work. firstly, i'm probably gonna enlist chloe (oooh foreshadowing) to help me out by drawing some new assets (if she's free, it is finals season), and then changing the game's native resolution from 240x160 (the GBA screen) to something not fucking insane. i've got "reworking all the sprites into easy to read spritesheets" on my to-do list, and after that, making the new assets (and then maybe the skins?) will be as easy as drag & drop. once it's got the new assets and all the polish that needs to come with a shiny new resolution, i'm gonna transition into the next phase - researching how to release a game!!!

[hi, not to ruin my own amazing transition but: it's 5am and i'm running back to edit this because i completely forgot to mention that i have currently implemented a 2 frame input delay on all inputs, because that's how the emulator appears to behave when i go frame by frame. every single day i rethink this decision more and more. surely there's no way that's how it's supposed to be, right? but i feel so weird changing it now!!! i definitely fucking have to though. next time i work on it. ok anyways]

now. i've posted games to itch.io before. but even then, i kind of fucked it up (i could never get the resolution of my web games to work right???) - so it's no surprise i've always been completely daunted by the idea of "releasing a game". when you post it on real stores, that's when it becomes... real. i'm excited about the new challenges it'll pose, though! now, a mobile release means a couple of things - bite sized fun, simple progression, and fun customization. i've already got the first part nailed down, and i figured i could nail the other 2 at once with a currency system based on how many points you get (or maybe even an xp system? that goes up 1 for each jump? maybe even both???) and skins (purchasable with said currency) that let you customize the player, rope swingers, background, and maybe even the rope itself.

pictured above is my stupid ass skins mockup (i literally just made this). the rope is rainbow, the background has a snow effect and a bunch of snow on the trees/ground (isn't it great?), wario is a lil version of the rope guys, and the rope guys have santa hats. i'm not sure how many different ropes you could really make with how i'm planning the rope to move, so i'll probably end up prototyping the graphics with chloe to figure out how to lay out the sprite sheets, and if they should actually have a seperate hand-grabbing-the-rope sprite for skin purposes. it'll definitely make things really confusing, but if i go for a mobile release i don't want to run ads, and so a currency you can buy with real money (and maybe one or two goofy supporter skins that cost real money, like a solid gold guy or something, as a form of donation) is a good way to make a lil bit of money from people who like the game.

all of this is fun to think about, but it's important to remember that the next thing i have to do is that walking ai. i've gotta Make The Fucking Game before i can do all this crazy other bullshit. i'm sure the ui design for all this is gonna be soooo fun, but i need a game to attach it to first :p

this went on reeeally long but i figure if this is a dev diary or w/e it's gonna end up running long no matter what, and the more info, the more i have to look back on fondly and say "oh shit, i know exactly when this was!", which is kind of the end goal of the project. of course, these incredibly long posts about shit that only matters to me are also incredible content for you, Michael, so i'm sure you're just eating this shit up. enjoy, you weird little man.

[hellfireeddiemunson]

finally having time to myself since 3pm yesterday (it’s 11pm rn) and i want to stay up and relax and watch stuff so i can have a nice time by myself before having to work tomorrow but i am EXHAUSTED and also want to sleep so bad😭😭😭

[undistortedworld]

GUESS WHOS GETTING A NEW JOB WOOOO \^o^/ can leave this awful place lol B)

[235uranium]

every time the female character discourse happens i just sigh. the ppl critiquing fandom misogyny don't even like that interesting of women

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[spacespore]

im so over it with high school and especially with math class !!!!!

[itsalwaysdark]

the connor room glowup (above is my washington room below is my now room ^_^)

[feeling-kinda-sad-ngl]

AARRGGH BIG INSPECTION AT WORK TODAY BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABT IS HOW TIRED I AM

[halohalona]

🎀 A Little Redecorating

Logan wakes up to you rearranging the living room in the middle of the night

Logan Howlett x Reader

this is inspired by my impulsiveness (i don't know if that's the right word) to clean and rearrange my room at 11 at night until like 12:30 in the morning.

not beta read

masterlist

warnings/tags: fluff, reader possibly having adhd and making impulsive decisions, husband!logan, a little ooc logan, kinda domestic, probably a bit incoherent towards the end cause i decided to finish writing this at 2 in the morning

To be completely honest, you have no idea why you suddenly got the urge to rearrange and reorganize the living room. You were laying in bed when the idea popped up in your head, and couldn’t sleep since. So you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up your husband, and got to work.

You were moving the TV stand when your hip accidentally hit the edge of a side table causing the vase placed on top to fall.

CRASH

Logan immediately sat up the claws on his left hand unsheathing. Instincts kicking in, he looked over to your side of the bed to see if you were ok, only to see no one.

“Shit!” he heard someone speak before hearing a loud thud. In an instant he was out the door running straight to where the voice came from.

You were sweeping the remnants of the broken vase onto a dust pan when you heard Logan frantically shout your name. “Y/N!!”

“I’m okay!! I just knocked over a vase!”

When Logan finally reached you his body visibly relaxed. “Thank fuck, you’re okay. I thought you were getting taken.”

“I’m sorry.” you say sheepishly.

He looked around, the room was in disarray. The couch was no longer in its original place, instead it was blocking the path to the stairwell where Logan came from. The TV stand no longer against the wall he was facing but instead in the middle of the room. The TV itself was laying on one end of the couch while books and knickknacks were scattered on the other end. The rug was also rolled up and put against the wall.

“Love, why are you rearranging our furniture?” he asked, confused.

“I honestly don’t know. I suddenly got the idea while in bed and I couldn’t wait until morning.” you answered looking around, the corners of your lips turning down. “And now I can’t exactly go to bed while the living room looks like this…”

Placing his hands on his hips, he took another look around. “Well then, let’s get to work. Let’s finish this before sunrise,” he sighed before hopping over the couch. “You got an idea how you want the furniture placed? "A smile makes its way to your face before nodding excitedly.

It took you only an hour to get everything in place thanks to Logan doing most of the heavy lifting. After placing the last book on the shelf you let out a loud yawn starting to feel exhausted.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed” your husband said, carrying you up to your room.

Bonus:

That morning you sat at the dining table hard at work on something on your laptop.

Logan had to do a double take making sure he was seeing things correctly. "Is that our living room?”

“Yep”

“Did you seriously build our living room in—”

“The Sims? Yep. I actually built our house in the Sims.” you zoomed the camera out to show the entire first floor of the build before shrugging. “It makes redecorating easier.”

a/n: the bonus was really just an excuse to add the small detail that the reader uses the sims as reference for decorating the house lol

word count: 511

[arminsumi]

S. Geto ★ Adult Store | 3

★ Chapter index | Part 1 | Part 2

★ Synopsis : Sooo... his apartment. At six. Sex. No toys. Just you and him. Sound good?

★ Warnings : 18+ content, smut, semi-public m*sturbation (at work), sexting, exchanging nudes, dirty talk, creampie, cunnilingus, toys, solo male m*sturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, wet dreams, mentions threesome with Satoru, "sl*t"

Home | Library | Geto works | Reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"Just like that... I'm so close."

Suguru moaned your name to himself and rolled his head back, pumping you full of his sensitive cock. He was so close to blowing inside your soft pussy.

But just before his wet dream got to the good part, he woke up. Grumbling awake, he felt sticky precum smeared on his inner thigh. So much had dribbled out his cock while dreaming of you. He nearly came in his sleep.

Hardly giving himself time to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes, he rolled over to grab his phone. Seeing your morning message made his lips curl into a smile.

📨 1 NEW

You: morningg 🥱 Suguru: morning pretty girl Suguru: i woke up a bit too excited 🙈💦 You: aw hope you dreamed of me Suguru: i did [IMG] You: needdd �� the curve ahh Suguru: bet you wish it was inside you huh 🖤 You: yes pls You: so excited for tonight. i can't think about anything but you

Suguru got butterflies.

His head got foggier, and his boner was still throbbing hot against his inner thigh. Your texts got spicier, so he lazily squeezed and jerked his cock through his pants while struggling to reply with one hand.

Suguru: i'll buy extra condoms just in case You: oh... dw i'm on birth control Suguru: oh? 🙈 what are you suggesting...? You: you can cum inside me 🤍

Suguru let out a shuddery moan and accidentally came in his pants.

****

Work was slow. The adult store was quiet for most of the day. Suguru lazed around and texted you.

Suguru: this one's also a best seller atm [IMG] You: wow i wouldn't even suspect that to be a toy 😂 what is it? Suguru: it's a suction pulsation toy. you put it on your clit. You: oh? 😵‍💫 hmm sounds fun but i'd prefer your tongue Suguru: 2 more hours left of work 🥲 You: 😔💔 Suguru: glad the store is quiet tho. i'm too horny to work. You: me too. i keep squeezing my thighs together when i see your texts. you got me all sensitive and you're not even here lol Suguru: aw you should have brought a toy with to help calm you down You: yeah 😔 rlly tempted to just take a bathroom break Suguru: you could just rub yourself under your desk 👀 You: only if you guide me through it 🤍

Suguru raised his brows and felt his cheeks warm up a little. He glanced around the store. Quiet. Not a single customer had entered for over an hour.

Suguru: stroke your middle finger up and down your pussy Suguru: very gently make it almost ticklish You: okay 🤍 Suguru: cup and squeeze it too for me pretty girl Suguru: how's it feel? You: really goodd 🤤 Suguru: yeah i bet. Suguru: rub circles on your clit nice and slow. just take your time. You: okayy You: this is rlly risky 🥺 Suguru: but you're turned on aren't you? You: yess Suguru: slut 🖤

Your clit got puffier and more sensitive as you started following Suguru's instructions over text. Every now and then you had to stop for fear of someone spotting you getting off under the desk.

Your chat with him got filled with spicier messages. Suguru kept turning you on more and more, making your clit buzz.

Work? What work? It was playtime.

Suguru: good girl. don't worry about anything just get those panties wet for me. You: are you stroking yourself too 🥺 Suguru: mhm. wanna see? You: yes please Suguru: [IMG] Suguru: all for you 🖤 You: omg You: need you inside me so bad :( Suguru: uh huh bet it sucks to clench around nothing You: meanie You: go faster with me please

He'd abandoned the checkout desk and went for a "bathroom break". Suguru stroked himself faster, imagining you touching yourself with him drove him wild. And the fact you were doing it under your desk while at work?

Suguru: i'm close 🖤 You: me too please cum with me Suguru: ok pretty girl. let's cum together.

His heart fluttered at your message, and he quickly felt his orgasm build up in his cock. Suguru threw his head back and bit his lip to hold in his moan while cumming a thick load.

Suguru: oops i made a mess brb You: lol 😂 Suguru: was it good? You: really good 🤤 thank uuu Suguru: mhm. see you later 🖤

****

He was practically shaking from desire while making out with you against his apartment door; moaning into your mouth then sucking on your tongue, eagerly squeezing your hips with his veiny hands.

He was breathless, "G—good to see you." he said.

"Y—yeah. Good to see you too." you replied.

He had you pinned against his front door. Yup, immediately after having arrived at his doorstep and walking in, the two of you just lunged for each other like two pathetically horny people.

He felt delightfully dumbed by the sexual friction between you and him. His hard-on pressed flush against your body, you could feel him already leaking precum.

You kissed, he backed away playfully. You followed. Then he kept backing away to tease you.

"Are you luring me like a fish?" you chuckled.

"Yeah..."

He backed into his bedroom door and opened it swiftly.

Leaning down to kiss you, his hands cupped under your ass and felt it up while you slid your hands under his shirt.

"Take this off, please."

"Take it off yourself." he teased.

Suguru's tummy flipped when you took his shirt off. Your eyes caught on his pecs and he noticed, so he took your hand and placed it on them.

You were a little taken aback. A shyness showed on your expression as you felt how firm his body was.

"Don't be shy; touch wherever you like. Just feel my body."

"But I'm kinda..." you giggled shyly.

"Shy? It's okay, I'll fuck the shyness out of you soon enough." he said.

Yeah, you'll be too full of my dick to be able to think, let alone be shy.

****

While he rubbed his cockhead through your slit, his stomach tensed up in excitement.

Fuck, and there I was just telling her not to be shy... and now I'm so fucking nervous. What the hell... why does it feel like I'm losing my virginity all over again?

Suguru prepped you a bit more, he slid his fingers into your hole and stimulated your G-spot with ticklish circles.

Finally sinking his needy cock inside you felt like heaven. He slid in a few inches deep, and shuddered at the feeling of your shape, the ridge and texture, the little squeezes of your walls.

"It’s not too big for you, right?" he asked caringly.

"N—no."

Nah. She's gotta be lying. I can feel her cunt struggling to take me.

Yeah, you were lying — he was so thick that the stretch was all you could focus on. Your lips formed an erotic O shape, expression turning slutty even though he wasn't even bottomed out yet.

"You sure?" he smirked down at you, two veiny hands at either side of your hips, denting the bed with his weight.

Suguru inched inside until you gasped.

"Fuck! Oh that's — mmm! — big!"

Suguru groaned softly, feeling your ring of muscle constrict around him. He slid in and out slowly to get his cock soaked.

"I don't know if I can take it..." you moan.

His cock curved up into your G-spot and you let out a shuddery moan.

"Don't worry. I'll stretch you out." he purred before giving you a hard kiss. "Just hold onto my arms."

****

“Fuck! Right there!” you screamed into the pillow.

Suguru softly grunted and focused his eyes on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your pussy. You fisted your hands into the messed up bedsheets.

When he felt his orgasm start to build up, he suddenly pulled out of you.

“Nooo, put it back in!” you cried, kicking your feet.

“Just a second, baby.” he murmured sweetly.

He smirked down at you and planted a hard slap on your ass, causing you to jolt forward and groan.

Sliding back in made him momentarily close his eyes, because your walls hugged him so perfectly.

“Mmm!” you kicked your feet around again when he started up his thrusting again.

Suguru wasn’t merciless with how he fucked you into the mattress, but he really wanted to be. He was holding back so hard just to make sure you could enjoy yourself completely.

Sometimes he’d start pounding into you and then self-consciously eased off when he heard you whimpering.

“Are you okay?” he giggled into your ear.

“Y-yes! Do that again, please.”

He flipped you onto your back and pushed your legs back, splitting them wide open for him.

****

Suguru fucked you into a quick orgasm and his own followed immediately after he felt your pussy milking his cock.

“Oh my god…” he giggled into the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d last longer than that…”

You laughed with him. Suguru hovered over your back, his bangs dangling over his eye, and he kissed from your shoulder down middle of your back. His two hands roughly grabbed and pried apart your ass cheeks, thumbing into your creampied pussy. Some of his cum dribbled out.

You hummed and wiggled your ass for him.

Fuck. I think I just fell in love.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asked softly.

“Yes please. I feel so wet and sticky.” you laughed.

He smacked your ass again and slowly slid off the bed, scouring for your panties before his boxers. He helped you slide them back on.

****

While you went off to shower, Suguru dressed up and went into the thin kitchen.

He checked his phone.

📨 3 NEW

Satoru: stop ignoring me hoe Satoru: ARE U GUYS STILL HAVING SEX OMG IT’S BEEN 3 HOURS??? Satoru: WTF KINDA STAMINA DOES SHE HAVE Suguru: lol u sound lonely Satoru: omg finally 😿 Suguru: i think i wanna marry her 😔 Satoru: WAHT WAS IT THAT GOOD???? Satoru: UR STILL MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT?? Suguru: yes Satoru: is she down for a threesome???? 👀 Suguru: wtf satoru 😂 Satoru: JOKING 🙄🙄 ask her tho Suguru: i'm blocking you Satoru: babyyy don't b like this!! sharing is caring!! 😍 Suguru: 😑

****

When you got out the shower and clothed yourself, you smelled something good cooking. Suguru wasn’t in the bedroom anymore, so you went to the kitchen.

The tiny round table by the window was dressed up with a white cloth and a single candle in the center.

“What’s this, a dinner date or something?” you asked.

“Yeah, well, I just I thought you might be, uh, hungry…” he said shyly. “… after all that exercise, you know.”

You gave him a flirty look, then sat down to eat.

****

He was giggling hard. His cheeks were hot.

“So, what’s for dessert?” that’s what you had asked to fluster him.

“What if I eat you out right here on the table?” he suggested, and you both went silent.

Suguru tilted his head at you and waited for your response.

Your response? Spreading your legs on the table for him, of course.

Suguru nuzzled his face deep between your thighs, dark hair tickling your skin.

He placed worshipping kisses on top of your pussy, then swiftly stripped your panties off. They dangled on your ankles while he nosed in your pussy, kissing and licking it like it was his dessert.

Of course, Suguru Geto was the type of boy to get hard from going down on a girl. His cock pulsed and twitched in his loose sweatpants.

You gasped when he sucked on your clit and nudged it with his tongue.

He looked up at you through his messy hair, sharp eyes observing your reactions to his skilled-tongue fucking. Your juices gushing down his chin drove him nuts.

“Oh, shit that’s good!” you cried, grabbing a fistful of hair and eliciting a moan from him that you felt vibrating on your clit.

He gasped for a breath, pulled away momentarily but then dove right back in as if he didn't need air as desperately as he needed pussy.

As soon as you started squirming around, Suguru hooked his arms around your body to keep you firmly in place.

His back muscles flexed while he ate you out. Yes, his knees hurt a bit from kneeling on the tiled kitchen floor for an hour, but it was worth it to get you squirting all over his pretty face.

Suguru withdrew from your pussy and wiped the streak of your juices off his cheek with a swipe of his thumb.

“Thanks for dessert.” he murmured, “Tasted really good.”

★ Tags : @ackachii / @qmsvpx / @aydene / @seaweedsaiki / @sadisticmfqueen / @vanyareads / @katsukis-lilbunnywhore / @mp3playerblog / @223princess / @collectionofdolls / @chimmysoftpaws / @halloweenmedic / @roronoaslover / @cherrymoon4 / @nctstrcngencugh / @nitskilanara / @thirtykiwis / @xxbuckpoppi / @dswdo / @p1nkfluffysocks / @yooniesweetheart / @crmdlls / @grimreaqueer / @mmeerraa / @witchbybirth

Please message my inbox or comment on this fic to be added/removed to the taglist for updates.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[yinyuedijun]

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

part 1 here

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

[modawg]

headcannon that after percy gets home and all that from being missing the first several months of him being home was everyone acting like he’s a small child who might get lost if he isn’t wearing one of those monkey backpacks with a leash as a tail

i know annabeth stopped letting him walk her to her cabin she now walks him to his cabin and watches him close the door then stands there for 5 minutes before calling goodnight to his window and if he doesn’t answer she breaks the door down to verify he is infact still in there

sally walks into him room at night just to check if he’s still in his bed tbh the first month i know sally was practically rocking him to sleep just so she knew he was home and safe

when he’s not at camp he’s at home if he’s not at home he’s at camp and if he’s not at either of those he’s got a buddy with him

i know every so often he starts feeling a bubble of anxiety in his chest and he has to force an extremely strong feeling of safety and conger up a mental image of exactly where he’s at just to calm down grover who he just saw 8 hours ago

it probably stresses sally and paul out when he’s in his room for too long and they don’t hear him walking around like he goes upstairs to do his homework and once he’s sat at his desk for over an hour he’s got some knocking at his door and it’s paul “just checking in”

i know everytime he walks into a cabin or the big house or even home everyone greets him like it’s the first time they’ve talked to him in years like they’re trying to positively reinforce the fact that he’s safe and home

i know paul starts getting a little anxious when he doesn’t see him around for a certain amount of time too like he misses percy leaving for the day so paul pokes his head into percy’s room to see it empty then goes downstairs to see only sally and has to force a flat voice as he’s like “lol so have you seen percy recently or…” as his hearts beating in his throat

like percy disappearing has def given everyone ptsd and anytime he’s gone for what feels like even slightly too long they start to panic a little

he stops at a grocery store after he leaves school and ducks into an alley to iris message annabeth just to let her know he’s gonna run late 20 min later he’s trying to debate what flavor ice cream he should get when an employee is tapping him on the shoulder bc there’s someone on the line for him and it’s annabeth who’s hacked into the security cameras telling him to get chocolate

she got 2 birds with 1 stone now he has to leave and come home (bc monsters) and she also gets her fav flavor

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: smut, MDNI! | words: 4.3k | cw: mean!jay, brat!reader, a looot of bickering lol, slight degradation, jay is a little manipulative, nipple play?, oral (f & m receiving, head pusher!jay), unprotected sex (hell no), creampie (+ lmk if i missed anything!!) ୨୧

hanna says: biggest thank you to my favorite jay girly, my other half and the one who motivated me to start writing on here in the first place. thank you for proofreading a lot and for letting me yap 24/7, this one's for you mwah @brklynbabyjay

mature content under cut, minors do NOT interact!

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2:47am, your phone read when you grabbed it with a sigh after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like an eternity. the heat in your room felt oppressing – the flimsy sheets might as well have been a double blanket and your pajamas felt like a winter coat despite barely covering any skin.

with a sigh, you got up from bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. with each step down the stairs you felt the air getting just a little cooler and your tense muscles relaxing just a little more.

you flicked on the light above the sink, before grabbing a glass from the top shelf. it slipped right through your sweaty palms and landed directly in the sink before you could catch it. it didn't break, but the noise cut through the silence of the night so loudly and suddenly that you were sure it could have woken up at least half of the neighborhood.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, wiping off your sweaty palms on your silky shorts and carefully grabbing the glass from the sink.

just as you thought no one had heard your little accident, a sudden, sleep-laced voice broke the silence again and startled you to a point you almost dropped the glass another time.

"are you kidding me?"

you didn't have to turn around to know it was jay's oh so humble self standing in the kitchen door.

"enlighten me, what's your problem this time?" you asked, although you knew the answer. you kept your back to him as you filled the glass with ice cubes and cold water, waiting for him to reply.

jay's jaw clenched at your words. you had woken him up, just as he'd fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning on the sofa, trying to somehow ignore the heat that pressed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry. and now you had the audacity to ask stupid questions?

"it took me forever to fall asleep and you wake me up cause you can't even hold onto a glass?" he snapped. his voice sounded less sleepy now – still raspy but regaining the usual edge he had to it whenever he was talking to you.

he was your brother's best friend and you'd known him since forever. you were sure the two of you had gotten along back then, when jake brought him over for the first time – sometime in his first year of high school when you were still in middle school. but just a little later, he'd started to pick fights with you every chance he got, which eventually led to him mostly ignoring you, and if he did talk to you, his voice always had that annoyed undertone.

for a moment, you didn't say anything, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip, letting the cold run down your throat and hoping it would somehow also cool off the anger that started to bubble up in your chest.

as you stayed silent, jay's gaze remained on you, only now noticing the light blue silk pajamas you were wearing. they were unnervingly short – more skin than fabric, really – and it annoyed him even more how the shorts outlined your ass perfectly, your plush cheeks just slightly exposed from how little coverage the piece of clothing provided.

when you finally turned around, his eyes shot up to your face immediately. you took in the sight in front of you: jay's messy hair and the way his shirt clung to his torso a little more than it usually would – you were pleased to see that he was suffering from the summer heat as much as you were.

"well," you broke the staring contest between the two of you, involuntarily trying to look meaner than the other, "if you didn't sleep in my living room, maybe you wouldn't have to bother me."

jay's eyebrows shot up at your remark. "or if you were a decent person for once and weren't so inconsiderate–"

"i'm inconsiderate?" you interrupted him. "that's rich coming from someone who moved in here two weeks ago and thinks he can make the rules," you huffed.

jay's jaw clenched another time as he took a step toward you, but you didn't back down. you looked up at him, returning the same fiercey look he gave you.

"you think it's fun living with you of all people?" he asked through gritted teeth, his taller figure hovering over you.

"no, but it's not my fault your girlfriend kicked you out," you replied, keeping your voice steady although your heart started to pound in your chest at the way his eyes narrowed slightly. yet, a tiny pang of amusement at how your words seemed to affect him joined the nervousness of wondering how far you could push him before he snapped.

oh, now you were curious.

"honestly, i'm not surprised," you added, your voice not faltering even when he stepped so close your bodies practically touched. "if you were only half as much of an asshole–"

"shut. up." he snapped, accenting each word.

the corners of your lips shot up into a smug grin. "can't stand me talking back to you?"

"i can't stand you in total."

"i never would have guessed," you replied sarcastically, taking a step back to casually lean your back against the kitchen counter. you brought the glass of water up to your neck letting the cold condensed water on its outside cool your skin. "wonder why you hate me so much, though. i don't remember pissing in your cereal when we were kids."

jay's jaw tightened even more. he was so annoyed. there you were, standing in the stupid kitchen with your stupidly short pajamas showing way too much of your skin that looked so. stupidly. soft. and you were bashing him, although he should be the one to talk you down right now. god, he couldn't stand you and how fucking hot you looked when you were snappy.

"you just make it hard not to," he replied, his voice laced with more annoyance than you'd ever heard from him before.

you chuckled at his words, the sound making his blood boil even more. what was so funny about him being annoyed, borderline angry?

"listen, jay bae," you said sarcastically as you put the glass down on the counter behind you, "if you want to stay with me and jake, you'll stop acting like i'm some kind of tragedy. you either ignore me, or you at least pretend to get along with me. deal?"

for a few moments, he just looked at you, his eyes still full of frustration. then, he suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching for the back of your neck and his lips crashing onto yours harshly.

you were too shocked by his sudden action and the rush of warmth flooding through you to react. he pulled back just as quickly as he'd leaned in, leaving your lips cold with the shadow of his, and looked at you as if searching your eyes for a reaction.

"what the fuck?" you asked, still taken aback.

you wanted to take a step back, but the kitchen counter was already pressing against your back. jay smirked at the shocked expression on your face.

"i said shut up," he repeated his words from earlier that night, as if that would suddenly validate that he'd kissed you. he placed his hands on the counter directly next to your body, trapping you between him and the cold marble surface.

"you don't get to–"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. you felt his breath against your skin, and despite the heat he radiated, you shivered – your words caught in your throat.

you could have pushed him away – should have pushed him away, really – but instead, you stood there, too stunned to move, with your heart violently pounding in your chest.

his hands found their way from the kitchen counter to your hips, fingertips pressing into your clothed skin in a way that made you almost feel his frustration.

the warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. you could feel your breath coming faster and your mind growing foggy as his lips traced a line to your collarbone, leaving a heat that shot right down to your core.

“w-what are you doing?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

"pretending that we get along," his lips brushed against your neck as he replied.

your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands under the thin fabric of your silk top, his fingers digging into the skin on your waist as he held you.

you wanted to push him away, really. everything told you to do so. but instead your hand found its way to the back of his head, pushing him towards your neck again. you couldn't make sense of it, but the way his lips brushed harshly against your skin, and the way you fisted his hair slightly whenever his teeth grazed against your skin, felt like you could finally let out the frustration that had been building up over the past two weeks of living with him.

"you're so goddamn annoying," he mumbled, pulling away from your neck only to push your top up your torso, over your head, and mindlessly discarded it on the floor.

just as you were about to cover your bare skin, he attached his lips to it again, moving from your neck to your collarbones and down to your chest. his hands found their way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing you to shiver, despite the hot summer air. you bit your lip to hold back a moan, yet you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue against you.

"speechless suddenly?" he asked as he pulled off and brought his lips to the other side of your chest.

"fuck you," you mumbled back before quickly pressing your lips together. your fingers were still tangled in his hair, keeping him close to you, but you would not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

"a little more patience," he grinned, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin another time.

his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the situation. you shouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place, much less help him to take off your top by voluntarily lifting up your arms. as the realization hit, you quickly pulled him off of you.

"you're disgusting," you said, trying your best to not sound as breathless as you felt.

"oh please," he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place as you attempted to pick up your shirt, "the way you're acting, you're practically asking for it."

"asking?" you echoed in disbelief. he was insufferable. "you have too much of an ego, don't you think?"

jay narrowed his eyes. "no, i think it's the truth," he said, letting go of your wrist and leaning down to your neck another time.

you swallowed hard. "stop playing games, jay," you said in a warning tone, yet you didn't push him away as his teeth grazed your skin again.

"you started the 'game', and you're losing it, darling," he replied, the nickname dripping with sarcasm.

you hated to admit he was right. maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind, or maybe it was cause the air was so unnervingly thin, but his touch sent shiver after shiver down your spine, covering you in goosebumps and sending waves of heat through your body all at once. even his annoying words started settling between your legs and no matter how much you pressed your things together, it just wouldn't stop.

"look at you," jay said in an amused tone as his eyes flicked down to your legs, your thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other, "bet you soaked your pretty panties for me and i didn't even touch you."

a wave of heat shot up to your face. you didn't know if it was from embarassment or anger, but you didn't bother trying to hide it. "oh please, jay, you couldn't even make me cum if your life depended on it," you said, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

he looked up, his eyes flashing with something you didn't understand as they met yours. "bet," was all he said before sliding your flimsy shorts down your legs, making sure to cup and squeeze your ass just once after he'd taken them off.

before you could react, he knelt down in front of you, harshly grabbed your thighs to spread your legs, and pressed his tongue flat against your clothed core.

your knees buckled slightly at the sudden contact, and you swore you could feel jay's stupid grin. "like i said. soaked." he murmured as he pulled the wet piece of fabric to the side.

"shut up," you whispered, not quite trusting your voice when the way you felt his breath against your wet core already caused you to clench around nothing.

"someone's sensitive," he whispered back, the airflow hitting your skin yet again.

"i said shut up," you repeated, and without wasting another thought, you grabbed his hair and harshly pulled him to where you needed him the most.

jay immediately licked a stripe along your folds, humming in satisfaction. "mouth so dirty but your pussy's so sweet," he mumbled against your skin before focusing his tongue on your clit.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again shortly after, as you failed to suppress a quiet moan. the sound went straight to jay's cock, causing him to hum against you another time as he sped up his movements, eager to pull another moan out of you.

he succeeded when he pushed his tongue into your leaking hole and his nose brushed against your clit. you sounded so sweet, he could cum only listening to you – but he'd never admit that.

you pulled on his hair harsher, subconsciously bucking your hips forward for him to reach deeper, as your legs started to shake more. jay grabbed one of them and rested it on his shoulder, never stopping to lap up everything your cunt gave him.

just as you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs closing around jay's head with a force that almost made him dizzy, he pulled back.

your eyes shot open and you looked down to him with an almsot bewildered expression on your face. he looked so hot with your slick covering his lips, his chin and parts of his nose, but right now you really just wanted to punch that stupid grin off his lips.

"seriously?" you asked as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "i was so close to–"

"so i could make you cum," he cut you off with the same annoying grin.

you didn't reply. instead, you tried to bend down to grab your clothes from the kitchen floor, but jay held your wrist again.

as he didn't let go even after you'd shot him a glare, you rolled your eyes. "congratulations, jay. do you want a trophy for your efforts? i didn't think you were so committed to win the gold medal in orgasm delivery–"

"shut up, will you?" jay interrupted, the smirk quickly replaced by his usual annoyed demeanor. "you're playing so hard to get when–"

"maybe you're just hard to want," you cut him off again, but he only raised his eyebrows.

"right," he replied, sliding one finger through your folds and collecting your wetness, the sudden contact drawing a surprised whimper from you. you quickly bit your lip, mentally cursing yourself for letting the sound slip.

"doesn't seem like 'hard to want'."

you glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze. without another word, jay grabbed your arms and turned both of you around so he was standing with his back against the counter and you were in front of him.

before you could open your mouth to speak, jay placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pressed down, causing you to sink to your knees in front of him.

"so much talking when you could just put that damn mouth of yours to use," he murmured.

the words made you gulp, but for some reason, they also sent a new wave of excitement through you.

one of his hands moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "let's see if you can only talk big or if you're actually useful for something, hm?" he asked, the tone of his voice almost soft.

the question annoyed you as much as it challenged you. eager to prove him wrong, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them and his boxers down in one go, and only hesitating slightly when his hard cock sprang free.

"backing down?" jay cooed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

you didn't reply, just wrapped one hand around his length, gliding your thumb over his leaking slit to use the precum as lubricant, before slowly pumping your hand up and down.

jay hissed at the contact, his hand tightening around your chin and the other gripping the counter behind him to steady himself.

his reaction made your lips curl up in a victorious smile, but you knew you could do better. you stopped your movements, waited for him to look down at you with a puzzled face, and licked a stripe from his base up to his very top. you closed your lips around it and swirled your tongue just for a second before releasing it again while looking up at him through your lashes.

jay groaned quietly, his hand leaving your chin and finding its way to the back of your head instead, where he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pushing your head closer to him again. his other hand reached to tap on your lips, which you wordlessly parted just enough to close them around his tip again.

jay pushed your head closer, letting you take his length into your mouth – inch by inch until you gagged around him and he grinned smugly.

"can't take more?" he teased, but you were determined to wipe that damn grin off his face.

you breathed in through your nose and moved your head forward in one go until your nose hit his pelvis and you could feel his tip against the back of your throat, swallowing around it to suppress another gag.

the feeling drew a surprised moan from jay that caused you to look up at him with teary eyes. you swallowed again, humming in satisfaction as you received the same reaction.

"c-can't believe you're actually good at something," jay stammered. "do that again."

you obeyed, the feeling causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to shoot back with another quiet moan.

he slowly pulled your head off his cock only to harshly push it back forward again after you'd swirled your tongue around his tip. he continued, his movements growing faster and rougher as his hips started to thrust forward every time he brought your head close – hitting the back of your throat each time, while you tried your best to not gag and he tried his best to not moan too loudly, not wanting jake to hear.

your hands reached to grab his thighs, attempting to somehow ground yourself when he slammed his hips forward another time. your jaw was tense, your eyes were burning from the tears that dared to roll down your cheeks, your head hurt from the force with which jay pulled your hair together, and yet all you could think about was finally making him cum and proving him wrong.

as his hips stuttered and his breaths started coming ragged, he held you in place, your nose pressed against his abdomen and the tip of his cock against the back of your throat. you eagerly hollowed your cheeks and swallowed again, pushing him over the edge.

"stay there," he ordered in between quiet moans. you felt his cock twitching as ropes of his cum ran down your throat. you quickly swallowed, yet couldn't stop a little from running down your chin as he finally pulled off.

you quickly wiped your chin with the back of your hand and stood up on shaky legs, shivering at how your arousal made your thighs stick together.

jay looked at you, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "hard to want, hm?"

"my god, fine. just fuck me already," you replied, your voice laced with frustration, which caused his lips to curl up into a little smile.

he turned you around and firmly pressed his hand on your back to guide your chest down onto the cool marble countertop.

"beg for it," he said in the most casual way possible.

you turned your head back and looked at him in disbelief. "seriously now?" you tried to stand up straight, not willing to feed his enormous ego more by begging, but his hand stayed firm on your back as his other slowly pumped his cock a few times before he guided his tip up and down your sensitive folds.

you clenched your fists, trying to move your hips back against his, but jay stepped back.

"i said beg for it," he repeated sternly.

when you hesitated, he lifted his hand from your back, attempting to step away fully. you squinted your eyes and mumbled out a quiet "please." you felt the embarrassment wash over you, but you just really wanted to finally feel him.

"what was that?" jay asked, stepping closer again.

you sighed. "please, jay," you repeated, still quiet but a little clearer than before. a hint of relief rushed through you as you felt jay's hand on your back and the tip of his cock against your needy hole again.

"please what?"

srew that. you were desperate but not desperate enough to ruin your pride entirely.

"you know what, fuck off, i–"

the words caught in your throat as jay suddenly pushed his entire length into your aching hole, knocking the air out of you. the stretch was so intense that you desperately searched for something to hold onto, but jay didn't give you any time to adjust as he pulled out almost entirely only to snap his hips forward harshly again, drawing a chocked moan from you when his tip hit your cervix.

"gonna finally put you in your fucking place," he said, hissing at the way your walls sucked him in so perfectly with each thrust.

"j-jay..." you whimpered once the pain gave way to pleasure, hating yourself for giving in to him, but also not caring enough to make him stop.

he groaned lowly at the way his name rolled off your tongue, mixing perfectly with the sounds of your wetness and his skin slapping against yours.

"takin' me so well," he mumbled in between his thrusts. you felt so warm and tight around him, the moans you tried to muffle clouding his mind until there was nothing left but you and the way you felt.

the sudden praise caused you to clench around him involuntarily. his hands moved to grab your hips, holding you in place as he continued to pound into you. he looked down to where your bodies connected, watching as his cock disappeared in your pretty cunt with each thrust.

"you're so stupid," he muttered, slipping back into the way he alway spoke to you, "for ever letting other idiots have their way with you when i was right there all the time," he blabbered out, slamming his hips into yours even harder.

you wanted to speak back, but each thrust knocked the air out of your lungs all over again as you placed your hands on top of his to somehow ground yourself.

"so tight for me," he mumbled at the way your walls clenched around him the closer you came to your high. "mhh, so wet"

"o-only for you," you managed to slur, way too far gone to realize what you'd just said, only focusing on the tight knot in your stomach that was dangerously close to snapping.

"jay, i-", you cut off as your orgasm washed over you in waves, each feeling heavier than the one before. jay brought one of his hands to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans as his own high hit him at how strongly you clenched down on him.

you felt his cock twitching inside you before the warm ropes of his cum painted your walls white. he thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and less energetic, riding out his high, before coming to a halt.

he took a few seconds to catch his breath. then, he quickly pulled out of you, the sudden feeling making you hiss. as you slowly lifted your chest from the counter, turning around on wobbly knees, jay had already pulled up his shorts again.

he bent down, picked up your pajamas and threw them in your direction. you caught them, wordlessly putting them back on as the reality of what had just happened started to crash down on you.

jay walked past you, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before giving you one last glance and heading toward the door.

"wait," you held him back. he turned around to look at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

"what," you hesitated, "what... are we doing now?" you asked, averting your eyes and looking at the floor in front of you instead.

jay shrugged. "pretending that it never happened," he said casually before walking out the door.

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[awrkive]

PLEASE LET CNBL COUPLE HAVE THEIR SEXTAPE 🤤 i think oc would be down to that idea but i get why jungkook is taking things slow too but my man is a simp fr he would put it in a loop because he’s obsessed with his girlfriend

i got u anon. ive got an ask about it sometime ago abt what miss cnbl!oc feels about digital s*x or film s*x. thought of an idea. this is 2 years after wncl, which is sorta kinda like the sequel of cnbl lols. anyways this is kinda self indulgent and honestly just an excuse to write smut 😭

summary: jungkook can't bear being away from you, and so you give him a solution

w/c: 2k lol

warning/s: consensual filming, unprotected s*x, cre*mpies

Jungkook can get pretty intense during reunions. In fact, intense is an understatement. He absolutely goes fervent, and you can’t blame him when you missed him just as bad too. 

“Ngh– fuck, I miss you so much, baby. I miss you every fucking day,” he groans into your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you at that pace that’s just so right. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just enough to make you keen; to make you grip the sheets behind you so tight. Just enough to not make it hurt when you've already come two times from his mouth and tongue, and another two times from his dick. Consequently, he's already two creampies inside your pussy and it's not even been a full hour.

And just when you thought that he’d be satisfied by the last time, he’s now determined on coaxing a fifth release from you. 

Frankly, you don’t know if you can do it. Sure, there was one time last year when he made you cum seven times in a row – and Jungkook still talks about it like a kid high on sugar, mentions it every now and then, keeps on wanting to do it again sometime – but it’s too bad you can’t keep up with him all of the time. Jungkook’s stamina is high and yours isn’t all that exemplary.

But you do try your best to match it because you love it just as well. You love the feeling of his cum shooting inside your hole, him pushing it back into you in that non-overbearing possessive manner, and how he always tells you you’re such a good girl for taking more and more, just letting him give and give. 

It’s why you encourage him to get you to cum again – because god, you really also missed him so fucking bad. 

He just got back from LA, just arrived at your place five hours ago, and you expected him to sleep the whole night in – not when you know he worked so hard back there. His team just bagged a win, and they’re moving onto semis the next few weeks. 

But Jungkook informed you that he had to leave again in six days – had to train across oceans again with the team. Said that he just begged his coach to get him a one-week vacay when others only got four. 

It’s not unfair when he’s the star player of the team he’s been winning for in the entirety of the last year. Jungkook’s an NBA player who has gained much bigger success and popularity ever since he got drafted, despite being so young and fresh to the scene. 

And sure, he basks in it sometimes – likes the praise, likes the way winning makes him feel. He loves playing for the team. Loves the work that he does. 

But one thing he absolutely fucking loathes about it is that he has to fly off across states for a game, and that means leaving the comfort of your shared apartment – leaving you, not being with you. 

And so you understand greatly why he’s intense during reunions. Because as much as you’re happy with your current lawyering – in your second year now – you also miss those days back in college when you could just have each other every single day. 

“Yes, fuck– oh there, baby, that feels so good…” you moan when he hits a particular spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he encloses his hot mouth around your nipple again, alternating on suckling and nipping around it, his other hand fondling your other boob. But again, Jungkook seems to be so on edge right now that you let out an “Ow!” at one harsh bite. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook soothes it with a kiss to the tip, hips still moving against yours, cock going at a steady pace in and out of your pussy. “I just missed you so much, pretty girl. Those calls weren’t enough.” He whispers against your chest, this time lapping at your breasts more gently. 

You reach out for the messy locks that sit atop his head, smiling gently down at him even though he can’t see you. 

“Babe?” 

“Hm?”

“Do you want to take a video?” You ask, still caressing his hair. 

You don’t expect the way his hips stutter after your question. The quickness in which he peels his head away from your tits to look at you with a surprised face after that is almost laughable but that would be mean of you.

“What?” 

“A video. Of us. I dunno… maybe it will do us both good if we have something of us while we’re away from each other.” you shrug nonchalantly. 

You both aren’t strangers to sending nudes to each other or sexting in general. Jungkook sends you videos and pictures of his dick a lot of times – unprovoked and even on a random Tuesday at 2 fucking pm. And you send him your tits and risky pictures of you in crotchless panties when you feel like it. (Like when you’re taking a bath and you're feeling a bit raunchy with the soap suds all over your breasts… Jungkook gets so drunk off the pictures that he fucks you so good once he gets ahold of you in person.)

It used to be just tits but you’ve upgraded to pussy pics… hey, it’s just that you’ve grown more comfortable overtime.

Being with Jungkook for three years now, you can say that you’ve tried a lot of things with sex. But somehow… you’ve never really tried making a sex tape. 

Sure, Jungkook’s brought it up before. Asked you if you were interested in the idea – but you answerwd with an affirmative no. Photos were okay, but videos were off-limits, and Jungkook was completely fine with that. It is your body, and he understands thoroughly the anxiety that you have behind the idea of sexual digital footprint – you’re a woman after all, there’s ultimately danger as a consequence to the very idea. 

It’s not even Jungkook you don’t trust. God, you trust him so much – but it’s this paranoia about imaginary people who are out to get you. 

And so that has always held you back. 

But right now, as you feel Jungkook’s frustration about the long distance thing as much as his love while he drives you up the headboard with his loving, passionate thrusts, you can’t help but think that maybe you can give this a try. 

Filming a sextape, you meant. 

“Are you sure?” Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes wide as it opens and blinks continuously. 

You chuckle. “Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jungkook smiles shyly, and it’s adorable because he’s literally balls deep in you right now. 

“I thought it was no-go.” 

“Please,” you roll your eyes playfully– but you’re soon cut off by a particular thrust. Jungkook knows this too, as he begins peppering kisses all over your jaw, humming to let you know he’s still listening. You stammer a little, but you manage to let out a continuation of your sentence, “I let you put your dick in my ass and spit in my mouth. Nothing is no-go between us at this point.” 

Your joke may not have been the funniest – as it just further riles Jungkook up by the way he suddenly picks up his speec. 

“Oh, fuck, you little minx – you really had to say that, huh?” He emerges from your neck and grabs your jaw – albeit softly. “Get me real fucking hard talking about those.” 

“You can do them to me on camera now.” you say, challenging. And you laugh when you feel him literally freeze. But it’s not as funny anymore when his cock throbs inside of you, and suddenly, you feel the urge to cum again. To release one more time.

He recovers quickly from the shock, though. “Yeah?” 

You gasp when he plunges his cock back into you, only leaving the first half of his length before he enters again. He repeats that motion until your neck is craned back and your eyes are seeing stars. 

“Keep going like that— yes, yes!” You say, starting to get hysterical because you can feel that coil in the pit of your stomach now. 

Just a few more pumps and it will come out anytime soon. 

“You’re so fucking hot and pretty, look at you.” Jungkook sighs, taking a hold of your hips this time so he can hit deeper. And he does hit deeper, alright – that it doesn’t really take too long before you spasm around his length again, your fifth orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

You lie there on the mattress completely lax while Jungkook goes on with a few more erratic trusts until you feel that hot liquid cum shooting straight to your hole. 

The both of you mewl in unison at the sensation, with Jungkook kissing your mouth to bask in the moment.

When he breaks away, he caresses your cheek and plants a sweet peck to the tip of your nose.

“We’re filming the sextape tomorrow but can I take a video of your pussy full of my cum right now?” He asks seriously, and his polite tone – as if he’s requesting something at the White House – makes you laugh again. You're so giggly now that he's back. Go figure.

(How you love him so much.)

“Okay.” you say, and you watch as his eyes widen, cock twitching inside your pussy that he still hasn’t pulled out from you yet.

“Fuck, you’re the fucking best.” He says as he picks up his phone from the nightstand. 

Turning it sideways, he grips the device with his left hand, turning the camera to your body. 

“Just make sure it doesn’t pick up my face, okay?” You say, but nonetheless enjoy the sight of his hooded eyes roaming around your naked body like he’s high on it. 

“I know. I’ll do that.” Jungkook murmurs, but you know he’s distracted, especially when you finally get to see the sudden shift in position where he’s kneeling on his calf now in between your spread legs. “Open wider for me, baby, let the camera see how full you are with my cock and cum.” 

You hiss at that, and you let Jungkook guide your thigh with his free hand as he helps you spread the two of them wider.

“Hold them for me, princess, just a min.” Jungkook says, folding your knees until they’re all up in your chest. With his help, you relax in that position, waiting for what he does next. “Good. Good girl. Always so behaved…” he trails off, and slowly, he slides out his cock from your heat. 

Jungkook thinks your face is the most beautiful he’s ever seen and your pussy stuffed, leaking with his cum is a close second. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, making sure the camera captures just how white your pussy is now with his thick cum – a product of five straight orgasms he’d coaxed out from you. He wants to highlight the way your pussy throbs, but sadly with the bad lighting and him using a phone camera, he can’t. 

Still, he relishes in the high of seeing you bare like this. With the tip of his cock just right beside your pussy, he slides the crown back to gather all the cum that dripped out, pushing it back into you. 

There's an overspill that coats his dick as well, and it’s making him feel things. Like his cock getting hard again even though he just came the second time. 

“Oh, Jungkook…” You sigh out, feeling overstimulated now. But as you look at his face, completely distracted, you enjoy the view instead. “You like that, baby?” You ask meekly, thinking that maybe he’d like that when he watches this again. 

“So fucking much, you have no fucking idea.” Jungkook huffs. “You’re so full already but there’s still so much leaking out.” 

“That’s all of you, Jungkook,” You say sweetly. 

“Hm. I know… shit… I just wanna do this everyday.” 

“Film is?” You snort. 

“Fucking you… being with you. I was going crazy in my hotel room at LA. Just wanna be with you all the time.” He laments. Jungkook presses on the phone and suddenly, he puts it back on the nightstand. 

“Awe. Poor baby.” You respond, tapping his forearm, putting your legs down while Jungkook soothes your thighs with gentle rubbing. 

You thought he’s done for the night, but suddenly, he says, “Angel, I may have lied. Can we film the sextape tonight, please?” 

You laugh. Again. And Jungkook just falls down your body, snuggles close to your chest as you instantly play with his hair. 

“Alright.” You say, craning your neck down to press a kiss on the crown of his head.