#but this is just-- this doesn't make sense in the slightest

[otrtbs]

can i know your bartylus thoughts….

well, yes of course you can know my bartylus thoughts! they make me insane.

The guiding thesis for bartylus is: "who are you when you're not performing."

because regulus is always performing, for his parents, for his brother, for the sake of maintaining some sense of fragile control, he's always projecting some other image of himself, some other version that people demand or expect. (i even feel like with james, he's trying to project The Best Most Palatable version of himself esp at the beginning)

and barty is also just a constant performance to me. in my mind it's just a constant rejection and rebellion of/against his father and his father's expectations. like any chance that barty has to be away from his father's crushing thumb is the moment he goes haywire, because that's how he gets back at his dad. that's his way of saying 'fuck you'. but is that really him? or is he just constantly performing the opposite of what his father wants, not because that's who he is, but because he knows his father will hate it?

but when regulus and barty come together, they don't have to act any more. they don't have to pretend and project with one another, because they can both see right through it. barty's smart, he's cunning and quick and i would say he's smarter than regulus is and regulus loves that. they can spar together, they match each other intellectually. and they both know that there is nothing they can do or think or say that the other person wouldn't understand. there is no place they wouldn't follow each other.

also, i think barty is extremely possessive. for lack of a better metaphor i think that barty coils around regulus like a snake and that regulus loves it. in a world where everybody picks everybody else before regulus (his parents pick sirius and sirius picks james...and regulus is just kind of There.... you get the vibe) barty not only picks regulus first, but entwines himself fully with regulus. barty doesn't play about regulus because that's his person, that's the only one who knows who barty is without all the fanfare... the only one who took the time to dig through all those layers that barty's buried himself under.

okay okay and also they just FIT so WELL together in all these tiny and subtle ways. like, in my mind they're perfect potion's partners because they're both left-handed and they don't knock elbows or anything. and they both wear silver jewelry and they can literally pull the thoughts out of each other's head and speak them outloud before the other person. and it's not work for them. it's not work for them to tell what the other person is thinking or feeling, it just comes easily to them. and anyone else has to pull teeth from both of them to get them to show the slightest emotion.

i think that regulus grounds barty's chaotic, wild, self-destructive tendencies and pulls him back, and barty forces regulus to lighten up and draws him out of his isolationist, hermit, caustic self-destructive tendencies.

[edensgaia]

(After listening to 4C's disc and after ash killed kab. At that point Derap had 2 convos with Zam, the one where he tries to discover how Zam would feel about reviving Wemmbu (the first time they had a convo about that) and the one about being selfish. This stream was also 2 months ago)

DERAP: "I feel like... she needs to understand that if people– okay, okay, okay– clearly everyone has betrayed her at some point, right? Or just everyone has betrayed her, from what it seems like. Hmm, surely that shows something about your character, right? You are just an untrustworthy person, right? [Pause] 'Cause I mean, lowkey, I've already clocked in that anything that I talk to Kab about, she will use that info as like– like, only for her own benefit, she won't use that info to give it to others, she will always to– like, for her own selfish gain, hmm, right? I feel like surely like, if you– like, no?"

Bro has a fixation about selfishness and selflessness

Also he never trusted Kab in the slightest, tbh that didn't change much lol

(Talking about What is a betrayal with chat)

DERAP: "When someone trusts you with something, and... you go do something that they would dislike behind their back. I feel like that is something that is called a betrayal, right?"

I think he might need to think about this again, cuz even though he says multiple times that he thinks betrayal in cringe and doesn't make sense, hes kinda doing it right now with the armor exploit. Tbh the whole thing he said about Kab being untrustworthy might apply to him a little as well, cause the way he treats his allies and have high expectations in general can make people feel wary. Like I doubt it is Kabs or Deraps intentions to always be in those complicated alliances where people don't quite trust each other or are not very balanced in general (like one person being expected to do more than the other), but they get themselves in those situations a lot lol.

[bean-spring]

Not to mention Voltron and Klance/Allurance in our year 2024 but I find it very telling how they didn't have anything planned for the ending and how they made Lance choose Keith on "The Feud!" by saying "He's our leader, plus he's half-galra so he's like, the future" when a season later he refers to Allura as "the best thing that has ever happened to him".

And yes, you can love somebody to death and yet think somebody else should get to be the one to live, logically thinking, but Lance is pretty much the most emotional out of all the paladins. He's loverboy Lance. He speaks and acts with his heart all the damn time and thinks about the people he loves first and foremost. And I am not saying this is "wooahhh Klance proof!" because we are pretty over that. Just saying it feels like they didn't have shit planned for the last season because Lance (a Lance who is in love with Allura, in theory, from the start) would have never, even if it's logically speaking, let another person that wasn't her get out of there alive. And even if he wasn't in love with her, he has said multiple times how much potential, strength, and importance he sees in her role.

So it is just stupid to make him vote for Keith and say something extremely damn endearing like "he's the future" instead of saying it about his romantic interest.

Not to mention that they could have easily fixed this if they wanted Allurance to be canon. They could've made the bond and conflict Allura has with Keith deeper by making her vote for Keith and saying he is the future for being half-galra (something that is personal to Allura and it would've made more sense for her to say and eat her pride and hatred towards the galra. Character development who?). Then it's just easy to make Lance vote for Allura and make him go "She's our princess and her strength is what the world needs and the universe would be lost without her" or some bullshit like that. And then make Keith vote for Lance because the joke was actually perfect and I have nothing against it and it's pretty in character for him to say "I don't wanna be stuck with him" instead of saying that he truly believes Lance is crucial for the future. And idk, make Pidge and Hunk vote for each other because they are best friends and it makes sense to reaffirm their bond (although I do find really cute and in character their original votes).

I am just saying what we already knew and is that Allurance was so not planned and they could've written a way better build-up. And look, it would've still been shitty and forced and awful but at least it would've been written thoughtfully. Kind of. Instead, we got... Deeper bonding between Lance and Keith? And I am the first one to say that they barely have scenes together with the amount of drama people make about their canon relationship but... Why give these two this moment (plus the other two only emotional and well-written scenes of season 8) that could've been great to build up another romantic relationship?

[bettydice]

All New Faded For Her sure hits different now

[citrusotakutea]

does anyone else on here hate but love james/sirius/remus x severus. I am a toxic yaoi truther; these ships are my favorite to read and the art for these ships always depict severus the best imo. but i hattteee just seeing it 'casually'. like get away from snape you dicks. but also continue. but also get away from him.

[1010ninetynine]

sao abridged is too american for me (says the usamerican)

[shinwhoohoo]

someone on discord called cnu a loyal fool (affectionate) for renewing with wm lol. when they renewed in 2018 i also got the impression he stayed out of loyalty to wm (did he say something?). wm could have done so much more for him. but we do know a solo album has been in the works for a while, at least. i loved his musical era too, why hasn't he done more? i hope he's content with where he is, or has negotiated better terms this time around. do we know how long he's renewed for?

Nope, nothing released on how long the renewal is for. I'd assume it has to at least be for a year though, minimum. Likely 1 (or 2) years given most renewal contracts... T_T

Blegh Idk, is it loyalty? Maybe. Yeah, CNU initially (I wanna say for their D+Documentary??) mentioned about having like, loyalty or 'trust' in renewing with WM or something. But of course, fast forward two years following that and they got RBW technically at the reigns ever since. So idk if I'd say that loyalty or trust could still be there, or at least to the same level.

Cause why not release his solo music then, that he teased months ago?? What's holding him back? Is it him just not wanting to release it? If so, then why? That makes me suspicious of his trust/faith in the company. Or, is it WM/RBW just getting in the way? (which wouldn't be new at least for WM-- remember, CNU and even Jinyoung would complain years ago that they always had new music ready to go, and that they wanted to comeback always sooner than what WM provided). Again, this also brings us right back around to why would he want to renew then? It seemed like he's almost... mindfully choosing not to be super active in other projects, whether it be a solo release, musical, regular tv/radio appearances (no, I don't count him filling in for Gongchan lol) etc. That's why I really thought he was just biding his time until he could be free tbh.

Which was why I'm like, ok, maybe because of Sandeul and Gongchan and their contracts not ending until much later is the reason?? Plausible, I suppose. Honestly speaking, CNU isn't really a hot commodity right now. I also don't think, unless he did some serious work himself on his own time, he'd have other agencies and companies approaching him for better contracts. Which sucks, but it really is just the feeling I have. So I think it's partially a... forced loyalty until Sandeul and/or Gongchan decide what they wanna do, and partially a 'welp, there really isn't much of another option'.

[ethan-acfan]

Oh and what makes this funnier, is if you look at the suspect pics of the guy vs the mugshots, it does not look like the same dude, like at all💀

Reddit’s even kicking that dead ceos ass

[doll-for-you-11]

Imagine you find a nice guy, go on a few dates and decide you like him enough to let him take your virginity.

He holds you and kisses you and asks if you're sure a million times and he makes sure to get you ready beforehand.

When he first pushes in he's so gentle, praising you as he moves slowly, stretching you out for the first time.

He thrusts gently, rubbing your clit, kissing your neck, telling you how good you feel for him until you start to get close.

He tells you to cum for him and it feels amazing, filled up with his cock, his praise in your ear, pleasure tearing through you.

But then he doesn't stop. He keeps rubbing your clit, he starts fucking harder and faster.

Your mind is a mess already and you assume he's just trying to get himself over the edge. You try to pry his wrist away but he doesn't budge.

Your back arches as it becomes too much and you cum again. He starts laughing. He starts mocking you and he still doesn't stop.

You're writhing under him as he starts pounding into you, bullying your clit rougher forcing you to cum again and again.

Your eyes are rolled back, body shaking, you cant move to fight him as he keeps going. Hips smashing against yours hard enough now to leave bruises.

His free hand grips your throat, your eyes wide in fear as he smirks down at you. "I said Id be gentle the first time, but this is what? The 5th now? Little whore just cant stop cumming hmm?" He mocks as he pulls all the way out only to slam back in. Squeezing your throat harder at the scream you try to let out.

By the end of the night you cant even count how many times he made you cum. At some point you blacked out, waking up to find yourself tied to the bed, blindfolded and gagged. Something much harder than his cock pumping in and out of you. Something metal.

Over time you'd come to learn that it was a fucking machine. He tells you you need to be filled at all times now that you're broken in.

Turns out by allowing him to take your virginity, you've agreed to become his entirely. And your mind is far too fucked out to come up with any logical reason why that wouldnt make sense. It does make sense. You're his now. His little fuck whore, for him to train to take him as he pleases.

And it really doesn't take long for you to learn to like it, because he's not wrong about what a dirty little slut you are in the slightest.

[arolesbianism]

Shakes the bars of my cage I need to draw soooo bad I need to draw I need to draw let me draw I have to draw I need to draw I must draw (<- has been too sick to be on electronics much and doesn't like doing traditional art)

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings. fem!reader, handjob, oral (m receiving), face-fucking, multiple orgasms, praise kink, pathetic choso of course, cum eating, 18+ minors dni.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who is the bassist of an up-and-coming band with some of his friends, but isn't nearly as confident on stage as the other members seem to be.

however, despite the way he tends to shy away from the spotlight, he still receives a lot of letters from his various fans, his poor mailbox almost permanently overflowing with packages and envelopes waiting to be opened.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who doesn't mind this in the slightest! in fact, he's extremely flattered by all the sweet words people write to him on a daily basis. his favourite part, though, is getting you to read them out loud for him while you sit comfortably on his lap.

he thinks the praise sounds even better when narrated by your pretty voice.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who has just invited you over to read through today's mountain of fanmail when he sees an unusual letter encased in bright pink paper peeking out from the top. his curiosity gets the better of him, and he peels it open to read it himself before you've arrived.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who begins reading with a smile as he skims through the carefully handwritten words. it starts off innocently enough; just the usual gushing over him and his band's music. however, slowly but surely, the letter delves into decidedly different territory.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who stares at the sentence 'if you just let me have one chance i'd give you the messiest, most toe-curling sloppy toppy known to man.' for what feels like hours, trying to make sense of what it could possibly mean.

the strange phrase is evidently not one he is familiar with.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who scrambles over to you when he hears the sound of the door opening, frantically waving the bright letter around in and begging you to explain it to him. he just wants to understand what his fan meant to tell him, after all!

rockstar boyfriend!choso who becomes even more confused when you start laughing reading the letter, your pretty eyes brimming with amusement and a hand flying up to cover your mouth. "what's so funny, baby? what does it meann?" he whines.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who is utterly dumbstruck when you purr out that it would be easier to give him a 'visual demonstration' to explain what the fan meant by the statement, slowly sinking to your knees before him.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who just stands there dumbly, shifting around from foot to foot and gulping loudly when he sees you looking up at from your place knelt on the floor with those damned eyes of yours that are currently glinting with mischief.

rockstar boyfriend!choso whose hand instinctively flies to grasp your wrist when you reach up towards the crotch of his dark ripped jeans, his cheeks flushing a furious shade of red and his eyes wide with bewilderment. "w-what are you doing, pretty?"

rockstar boyfriend!choso who quickly falls silent when you reach up with your free hand to press a finger to his lips, the other gently breaking free from his loose grip and brushing over the steadily growing bulge in his pants.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who whimpers when you tease him for how hard he is already, your sultry voice both arousing and embarrassing him. "aww, is my sweet boy all worked up just from seeing me on my knees for him?"

he can only nod weakly in response, already feeling overwhelmed from one barely-there touch and a few simple words. it's not his fault, really! he just can't help himself around you; especially when the two of you have never ventured past making out before.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who tries to bury his blushing face in the side of his graphic t-shirt sheepishly when you start to properly palm him over the material of his trousers, his soft moans muffled by the clothing.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who feels an involuntary pout push at his lower lip when you remove your touch, only for it to melt into a gape when the finger that was hushing his lips moves to the underside of his chin, tilting it downwards so he's forced to make direct eye contact with you.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who practically feels himself fold like a lawn chair the second you coo sweetly to him that he needs to "keep his eyes on you" if he wants you to continue touching him, causing him to nod furiously in response.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who couldn't look away from you now even if he wanted to, his entire being mesmerized by each miniscule movement you make — the way your fingers toy with the button of his trousers, the subtle way your teeth sink into your lower lip in concentration...

god, you have him so whipped.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who has to bite back a pathetic mewl when you finally push his ripped jeans down his hips, leaving him standing there in the entryway of his apartment in just his boxers and a band shirt. he knows he should be embarrassed; but right now, he couldn't care less.

he just wants to know what you're going to do next.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who is so lost in thought imaging all the different things you could do to him, that when you rub your face against the erection straining against his boxers, he accidentally releases a strangled squeal of shock.

panicking, rockstar boyfriend!choso hurriedly reaches down to tangle a hand into the back of your hair, keeping you pressed against his clothed cock so you don't have the chance to open your mouth and tease him for the sound he just let out.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who can't suppress a soft gasp as your tongue flickers out to swipe little kitten licks over his tented boxers, no doubt leaving a small wet patch there. "m-mmph. babyy, that feels so good."

rockstar boyfriend!choso who feels rather than hears the way you giggle lightly against him, the vibrations of the sound making him grow impossibly harder. and, oh, you've hardly even touched him yet and he's already prepared to explode at any moment.

rockstar boyfriend!choso whose chest rises and falls with rapid breaths when you start to slowly peel his boxers off too, his throbbing cock slapping against his pale stomach with a lewd smack! that makes him whine in shame.

his embarrassment only increases when he observes the way you react to the sight of his length for the first time, your tongue darting out to moisten your suddenly dry lips and your pupils visibly dilating. "s-stop staring." he huffs petulantly.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who swears he almost cums untouched when you tell him that you're just admiring how "pretty his cock is", his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tries to think of a coherent response. but any words are quickly lost when you wrap a hand around his base.

"ah!" rockstar boyfriend!choso cries pathetically, the sound resembling that of a wounded animal of some description as you start to gently pump his pale cock in a loose grip, deliberately teasing him with what's to come.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who's so close to the edge already, his balls practically bursting at the seams with the need to release themselves. but then you remove your hand, causing him to whimper in protest and weakly thrust his hips into the air in search of more friction.

"n-no! baby, you're so cruel. please, give me just a little more..." he pants breathlessly, staring down at you with those wide, glossy eyes. shit — how are you supposed to tease him when he looks so painfully beautiful begging for you?

rockstar boyfriend!choso who does actually cum when you lean in to press a gentle kiss against his adorably flushed cockhead, his milky seed splattering lewdly across your features before he can even stammer out some kind of warning.

he prepares to apologize profusely, but trails off when he notices that you seem completely unbothered. no; in fact, you seem to be pleased, licking some of the cum staining the corner of your mouth with a satisfied hum. "you taste so sweet, cho." you purr.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who swears there's a real risk of him fainting if you say another word of praise, so he hurriedly yanks you back by your hair to his still half-hard cock. but he doesn't force you onto it, just brings you close enough that he can feel your breaths fanning across his heated skin, making it visibly twitch.

"p-please can you kiss it again, pretty girl?" rockstar boyfriend!choso whines quietly, his eyes locked on your cum-stained face as you smile softly in response to his request. god, how did he ever get so lucky?

rockstar boyfriend!choso whose entire body convulses when you place another kiss to his profusely leaking tip, quickly grasping the edge of his t-shirt and shoving it between his teeth to muffle some of his sounds as you start to lap at the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

"such a needy boy." you speak teasingly against him, admiring every adorable change of his facial expression as you continue to coat him in your saliva. and choso think he's the lucky one — god knows how many of his fans would kill to be in your position right now (especially the one who penned that vulgar letter.)

rockstar boyfriend!choso simply nods dumbly, clearly too drunk on pleasure from your touches to deny your words. "just for— mmph! — f'you, baby." he slurs out, his hand stroking through the back of your hair as if you're the most precious thing he's ever encountered.

and to him, you are.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who releases the most pornographic moan once you finally take his sensitive tip into your mouth, the feel of your warm, wet mouth suckling around him making his eyelids droop in bliss. he's never experienced anything so perfect in his entire life.

rockstar boyfriend!choso whose crumpled up shirt falls from his mouth, his jaw slackening as he babbles a string of unintelligible curses and whimpers. you've only taken half of his length between your lips, but he already feels like he's in heaven.

he's so lost in dreamland he hardly notices how long it takes you to get all of him lodged inside your mouth, your nose bumping against the small patch of dark hairs scattered near his base as you try to hold back your gag reflex.

you bet he probably doesn't even know just how big he is.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who glances down at you in concern when he hears a slight choking sound, only to be met with the shockingly beautiful (and arousing) sight of your current state.

drool is involuntarily seeping from the corners of your mouth, your eyes watery with unshed tears as you try to handle having your entire throat stuffed more than full with his thick cock.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who doesn't know what comes over him when he finds his hand tightening in your hair, his hips wildly bucking up into the roof of your plush mouth as if they have a mind of their own — he tries to stop, but he just can't.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who sobs out choked apologies mixed with declarations of love over and over again, contrasting the roughness of his repeated thrusts between your lips. you've never seen him so feral before, but it's a sight you're quickly becoming addicted to.

he cums down your throat in record time, emptying all of his balls into your pliant mouth with a strangled whimper. unfortunately, he can't even keep his eyes open to watch you gulp it all down, too high off the feeling of the best orgasm he's ever had.

rockstar boyfriend!choso who forces himself to come back to reality to check on you, his sweet face contorted in concern as he releases his death grip on your hair and tenderly strokes your sticky cheek with his thumb. "a-are you okay, baby? i didn't mean to be so rough. i-i just got carried away." he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

you're quick to assure him that it's fine, smiling up at him as if you didn't just suck the soul of the poor man. and then you have the sheer audacity to purr... "you wanna do that to another part of me too, cho?"

rockstar boyfriend!choso who is absolutely positive you're going to be the death of him one of these days.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[rubys-domain]

gotta give props to arlecchino for being one of the few female characters in this game to be fully-clothed

[dracimexidae]

When he wins and for how he plays Rublev makes me really wish he would improve his temperament on court, because I believe it would help him playing even better

[wendichester]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ on his wrist,

summary. dean loves your simple, worn-out, black hair tie. it's awfully handy for your extracurricular activities.

pairing. dean winchester + reader

wordcout. 589.

notes. 18+, implied intimacy. mdni .ᐟ

Dean Winchester always has your hair tie on his wrist. It's one of those little back ones—plain, stretchy, and just slightly frayed from being used too many times. It doesn't look like much, but it's there, circling his wrist snugly like it just belongs.

The first time you noticed it, you thought maybe he just forgot to take it off. After all, you'd tossed it onto the nightstand, and Dean being Dean, probably scooped it up without even thinking. But now, it's always there. Always.

Even when he's stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets or wiping grease off them after working on the Impala, the hair tie stays on.

It's kind of adorable, really. Not that anyone would dare call Dean Winchester adorable. Not out loud, anyway.

"You gonna keep that on forever?" Sam asks one morning, arching a brow at his brother over a cup of coffee.

Dean doesn't even bother look up. "Yep,"

Sam smirks and mutters something under his breath about how Dean is "whipped", but the oldest Winchester just shrugs it off, casually twirling the band around his wrist like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal. To you, at least.

Because, sure, it's just a hair tie, but everyone knows Dean's not the type to hold onto things unless they matter. He doesn't do sentimental—at least, not in the traditional sense. But this? This is his version of it.

And, of course, there's another reason he wears it.

It's late. you're in his lap, straddling him like it’s second nature. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, slipping under your shirt to trace the soft skin beneath.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as your mouths crash together, hot and desperate. He kisses like he fights, all passion and raw intensity, like he needs you more than his next breath. You shift in his lap, feeling him groan against your lips, and it’s almost too much, "You're gonna kill me," he mutters against your lips.

He pulls you back in for another kiss—messy and full of heat, the kind that steals your breath and sends your heart racing. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the way his lips curve into a smile even as they're locked on yours.

Then, suddenly, you're slipping down onto your knees between his legs. Dean's jaw clenches, his eyes following your every move, and you feel his hands before you even look up. "C'mere," One of them cups your cheek, rough and warm, while the other brushes through your hair, gathering it up with slow, practiced ease.

"Hold still for me, sweetheart," You glance up at him, your breath catching in your chest. He's looking down at you, and it's almost too much—the tenderness in his expression, the hunger in his eyes. His fingers find the tie on his wrist, slipping it off in one smooth motion.

He works quickly, threading the elastic through your hair and securing it with an almost reverent touch. It's ridiculous, how careful he's being, as if tying your hair back is the most important thing he's done all day. His hands linger, rough and warm, the slightest tug making your breath hitch.

"There," he says, his thumb brushing along your jaw. Dean leans back again, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he takes you in. He's quiet for a beat, just watching you, and when he finally speaks, his voice is soft but filled with something raw. "You're just so damn pretty like this, baby."

[paint-the-walls-white]

I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.