#good lord. im a mess (this time in a good way)

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[popponn]

IT'S LOVE IN MUNDANITY IT'S I LOVE YOU SAID THROUGH THE SMALLEST THINGS IT'S I FIND BEAUTY IN EVERYTHING BECAUSE YOU ENTERED MY LIFE AND SHIFTED ITS AXIS IT'S A BIG WORLD ALTERING OCCURRENCE SPOKEN THROUGH A SINGLE SOMEONE'S VIEW OF THE WORLD IT'S AN I LOVE YOU IT'S

[radicalhighway-moved]

been playing cassette beasts and just got the part w the gay grandmas and idk man! gay grandmas Existing just makes me so emotional

[waywardsalt]

drawing is difficult for me and writing is something i’m considerably better at sooooo…

written list of ideas i have for a humanoid design for bellum bc i think im finally zeroing in on something after a few uhhh years of brainstorming

(if you read this and have like. some ideas you want to share or some possible [constructive] criticisms go ahead and share them if you want)

Not actually properly humanoid; he can take on a fully human look but it isn’t his default and requires a bit more energy

Therefore, he usually lacks ears (they’re just. holes), finger or toe nails, a navel, an adam’s apple, or basically any kind of human detail that could be easily overlooked at first glance (maybe leaning into a bit uncanny?). He does have these traits when he actually puts the effort in to pass as human

The traits shared between his usual humanoid form and the more explicitly human form are: an eyepatch over his left eye (he doesn’t have a left eye or eye socket in either form. it’s like one-eyed willy in goonies), yellow hair (actually the same color as link’s), a lack of a nose (effectively like it’s been torn off, just leaving the nostril lines/openings), and a lot of large scars pretty much everywhere (some are just normal looking scars, like one across his face that looks like items from a wound that cost him his nose, while others vaguely resemble the markings on his body when he’s in demon/normal form), so either way he’s going to draw attention

In his usual form (more obviously nonhuman) his left eye is his usual black and orange eye, and he has sharp teeth, but he can switch those to appear more human if he’d like

He’s below the average height and appears to be only slightly muscular, logically more built for flexibility or with the build of a dancer, but his demonic strength remains, though his speed and flexibility is limited by the form he takes

His hair is a mess and mostly short, and if he’s in the more demonic-leaning human form, it’s usually got streaks of black (black is in there in some way, how it appears is still a wip) in all of the yellow

Clothing can vary but most commonly he chooses something loose and casual, he doesn’t particularly value his clothes and doesn’t really have anything to hide and so pick stuff that won’t drag him down or get snagged in a fight, flimsy loose clothes are good

Other times he’ll wear boots and gauntlets and gloves in a more serious context, usually opting for designs and materials similar to what he gives his phantoms, he doesn’t fully lean into the phantom-style of armor or fighting unless he needs to focus on defense, however

In either of his human forms, he’s still capable of fighting (and in his more demonic form he can use his tentacles, the come from his back), and doesn’t so much as have a fighting style as he generally just kills with whatever seems most convenient or entertaining at the time, ranging from creating a weapon for himself to use to just bashing a guy’s skull in with his bare hands

He’s very violent but can talk just fine and can be just about eloquent if he wants but usually leans into being more chaotic and acting the part of a brutal ruffian if the job can be completed using force, so a lot of the time he doesn’t even bother with looking explicitly human most of the time

He greatly prefers his demonic form and uses the human form for specific reasons, and can’t actually use it if he’s too weak

[yinyuedijun]

dusa how could you leave such DEVASTATING tags on this and expect me to be okay ?????

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!

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!

[lonelyplanetfag]

when is somebody gonna care abt me the same way i care abt them🤣🤣🤣🙏🔥icant do this shit anymore

[classyrbf]

THAT D!CK IS A 10/10! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...an analysis on the jjk men’s dicks just because hehe :)

INFO...jjk men x gn!reader, we’re talking about cock and balls a lot (no seriously), cum analysis, where they like to cum, heavy detail (be warned), im trying to make this a little realistic so no, gojo will not have a 12 inch dick (sorry not sorry), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

here’s a little something while I’m being a busy bee and dealing with life (help me)

GOJO

to start off, gojo isn’t too big or isn’t small either, if anything he’s just perfect (cause he is perfect duh). He’s around 3 inches soft and 6.6 inches hard. Listen, as much as I want to make this man have the hugest dick ever, he does not and it’d cause an extreme amount of pain every time he is pounding you. He’s not too girthy either, just the average 4.3. His also slightly curves upward which is perfect for hitting your sweet spot. But he’s super sensitive on the tip! So if you tease him too much there he might just cum prematurely. His balls are definitely a decent size too, they may be on the bigger side a little but he loves to have his balls played with so have fun! When gojo cums, he cums a lot! It literally will go all over the place if he can’t control it correctly. It’s spurts out in waves and it sometimes it’s like torture cause it makes his orgasms last longer but god does it feel so good. His cum is sort of thin and runny instead of thick and goopy with a slight salty taste.

NANAMI

i personally feel like nanami is fucking packing girth wise! He is slightly smaller than gojo around like 5.75-6 inches but he is fucking girthy! It’s like a damn weapon and it’s heavy (I’ll help you carry it around nanami, don’t you worry). His girth is around 5.5-6 inches and it’s veiny! Lord help us all because he knows how to use that thing, hitting all the right angles. From being so girthy his cock slightly hangs…So what comes with a fat cock? Big breeder balls! Duh! His balls are so fat and big it’s like an instinct to suck and lick on them. He leaks a lot of precum when he’s hard so it just drips from his cock until he cums so hard. Speaking of cum, unlike gojo he has more of a thicker consistency, and instead of spurting out all over, it just flows from his cock and it’s looks so pretty like a fountain. It drips all down his cock and balls and onto his hand if he’s jerking himself off. When he’s fucking you, he definitely cums inside and just fucks his cum into you over and over until he makes a big mess.

TOJI

my man, my man, my man! Toji is definitely bigger than nanami and gojo but only by like 1-2 inches. So he’s around 7 inches which is still scary bc why are just walking around with that? He’s definitely girthy too but not like nanami, he’s more girthy around the tip of his cock and it gets slightly smaller towards the base but it’s not a huge difference. He’s tip gets really pink and red when he’s hard that it almost looks painful (don’t worry baby I’m on my way to help) but I promise he’s fine. Dare I say that doesn’t trim that often???? I feel like he has a slightly bush, nothing too crazy but it’s kind of grown out. He doesn’t care (me neither) as long as he gets laid he’s fine. His balls are mix of nanami and gojos but they hang! So when he’s fucking you they definitely slap against your skin. When toji cums it’s pretty normal, it’s sometimes shoots out a little bit and then slows down after, but it’s definitely a good amount of cum that does come out quickly. He loves to see your face or your chest covered in it because he’s a pervy little bastard for sure.

GETO

pretty boy geto hehe…let’s just say that thing curves to the left okay? He’s around 6.5-7 inches and girthy so let’s pray for everyone’s holes cause I don’t think we are making it out alive. He’s somewhere between nanami’s and Toji’s girth so…do what you will with that info. His dick is so pretty though, a pretty dick for a pretty face, the curtains match the drapes yk? He has two prominent veins that run on the underside of his dick where he’s really sensitive. If you look closely you’ll see them pulsing when he’s hard. His tip is also a very pretty pink color while his shaft and base are slightly darker than his skin tone. His balls aren’t too big either so it’s definitely more about his dick. He doesn’t cum a lot either surprisingly, he’s never been the cum everywhere and get super messy type of person but if hasnt had sex or jerked off it’ll be more than usual.

CHOSO

choso is closer to nanamis size, maybe a little smaller but not a huge difference. His is pretty average but there is nothing wrong with that (can I get free ride???). Just like geto he also has a very pink tip and his shaft is the same color as his skin. His girth is around Gojo’s but he has some big balls that are just asking to licked and sucked fr. Baby boy gets so whiny when he’s hard and leaking that he’s almost embarrassed by it, he tries to control it but he literally can’t stop getting so hard to point it drives him insane. His cum is stringy and thick, like the perfect consistency for cumming on your face, chest, ass, literally anywhere. He cums a normal amount, usually spurts out super quickly and then slows down towards the end of his orgasm.

SUKUNA

where do I even begin??? Clearly, this mf is the biggest out of all of them. He’s scary asf because he has two, yes, two dicks that are practically identical. 8-9 inches long, 4.7 girth. End my life. THIS MF GOT 4 LEGS. It’s actually cruel. They’re thicker towards the base and gradually get narrow towards the tip. So at first, the stretch doesn’t seem that bad until you realize you got about 7 inches more to go…yeah. His cocks are darker than the rest of his body and his tips are sort of like a light pink/tan color. The only difference between his cocks is that one is super veiny and the other quite literally has like 3 veins. Fat breeder balls that hang, swing, touch the floor (I’m jk) but literally the mix of toji and nanamis balls. They hold so much cum, he can literally go round for round back to back and fill up every hole of yours without taking a break. And he cums so much that it’s actually concerning. Like nanami, its overflows maybe once in a while it will shoot out.

HIGURUMA

believe it or not I think this man is packing at least 7-8 inches. It may not look like it but I think he does! He never brags about it either so it’s really hard to guess. When he’s hard his dick touches his belly button…and his balls are somewhere between Geto’s and Gojo’s size so they’re kinda average. The color is slightly tan maybe like one shade darker and he has a pale pink tip. Did I mention he has a fat tip?? It seems like it gets even bigger when he’s hard, all swollen and everything. His girth is pretty average too like Gojo’s maybe slightly bigger like 4.5 but that’s it. Higuruma doesn’t cum that much it like toji where it’s a pretty normal amount. His cum isn’t super white either, it’s kind of on the clear side and super stringy which is perfect for cumming on your tongue imo

[cregansdingdong]

So…

Cregan on a day going on a frenzy out of nowhere and full on fucking the brains out of his wife THE WHOLE DAYYYY, neglecting his duties while the other Lords call for him and he straight up threatens to kill anyone who dares interrupt him…on my knees rn🧎🏻‍♀️

Go off, your majesty👑🙇🏻‍♀️

NEGLECTING HIS DUTIES---CONGRATS CAUSE UR DEFO A MOTHER AFTER THAT WOOOOOOOOO ALRIGHT.

so. my brain is doing a think. a nice, slutty think.

Let me just start by clarifying that Cregan, above all else, respects his position just as the majority of his ancestors have done before him. He's very serious about being the Warden of the North and he really does his best to...behave himself. Sometimes though, he doesn't.

alright thats enough thinking its time to fuk. i sincerely apologize for what im about to unleash. may the odds be ever in your favor i guess lol

ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ.

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty. no SRSLY this one needs like twenty more nsfw warnings

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"You can take it.” He murmurs into the quiet of their chambers, eyes trained down where he’d connected to his wife for the third—no, maybe fourth time since they’d risen that day. He’d lost count, much like she had. It felt pointless to keep track anyway. All that mattered was that it felt good. Filling her deep, slow, teeth dug into her calf over his shoulder just to ground himself and remember where he was. The Lord of Winterfell was cunt-drunk beyond belief. 

Cregan woke that morning without the thought of his tasks for the day. No. None at all. His wife was sitting up in their marital bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, reaching over for her soft robe—Gods, he lost absolute control of himself, of his restraint. He saw the supple planes of her back, and that was all it took, really. He’d taken her on her stomach first, a satisfying, lazy fuck that he couldn’t hold himself from coming early. That didn’t mean he was done, by any means, just momentarily winded. His mouth worked just fine to bring her to peak.

Seeing his own seed dribble out of her pretty cunt was enough to make him hard all over again. He feasted on her for breakfast, smearing his come over her pearl and cleaning it off nice and clean. He loved the way she tasted when she released against his mouth—loved the way his own release tasted when mixed with her slick. Delving his tongue deep, hands gripping her fleshy backside as he was torn between lapping up his own seed from her or pushing it further in. Gods, it was obscene. That made him all the more feral to go again. Everything was so warm when he slipped himself back inside. Whatever possessed him that day was unknown to either of them.

It was frantic, breathy—short strokes that were brief but hard enough to make her eyes roll back. Cregan held himself up via the backboard, thankful more and more every day that he’d chosen the sturdiest design imaginable as he snapped his hips against her ass. His wife was a thorough mess, mewling inconsolably as the sensitivity from her last release was front and center. She came again as his cockhead hit that spot like a bullseye.

They took a respite, thankfully. Cregan had never felt himself so drained of seed before. But, back to where we were: "You can take it.” He murmurs into the quiet of their chambers, eyes trained down where he’d connected to his wife for the third—no, maybe fourth time since they’d risen that day. He’d lost count, much like she had. It felt pointless to keep track anyway. All that mattered was that it felt good. Filling her deep, slow, teeth dug into her calf over his shoulder just to ground himself and remember where he was. The Lord of Winterfell was cunt-drunk beyond belief.

This time, his thrusts were deliberate, keen, and languid. He was fucking her. Making love. Making heirs. Pushing his come as deep as it could go and satiating his urge to breed her until she was round with the litter of her Lord Wolf. She was on her back, by the edge of the bed, eyes locked on Cregan’s light eyes, her pupils equally as dilated as she watched him take his time with her. “You—have a meeting today.” Huh. He did.

“Don’t care.” He grunts, thumbs pushing into the back of her thighs. His brows were furrowed in concentration, only seeing the sweat gathering on her clavicle, the flush of her cheeks, the way her nails were digging into the sheets—the tunnel vision was going to make him bust. “You’re forgetting.” She moans, head tilting back. “Forgetting—mmmh! Forgetting your responsibility to your bannermen.” Cregan bit her calf harder at the mention of them. “I don’t care. I’ll slit the throat of any man who dares remove me from your perfect cunt, wife.” He rasps, now briefly recalling that he was supposed to attend first thing in the morning. Ah, well, too late now.

“You’d better fill me then, my Lord husband.” She giggles, delighted at the prospect of having him all to herself for the day. “If we’re going to spend the afternoon making pups, we’d better not disappoint them.” His eyes flick up at her face as he pauses his deep thrust, squeezing her thighs in his large hands. A rumble of a sultry laugh emits from his chest. “Your womb will take all that I give it, woman. I’ll make sure of that.”

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[trulyumai]

Festivities of Saturnalia

pairing: caracalla / wife! reader

description: The Roman’s didn’t have Christmas; however they did have Saturnalia. With plenty of food, wine and presents, the festivities had begun.

warnings: none. so much fluff you’ll be buried in a soft, comforting cloud.

a-n: i love writing for this man so im glad y’all love reading it! enjoooooooy~

you didn’t mind the return of the festivities. Saturnalia; the festival held for the God of Saturn. It usually lasted a week, but with how the twins acted, it went for about two.

tables upon tables were situated in the main temple, almost everyone throughout Rome would show up in custom with vintage wines, aged cheeses and gifts aplenty for their loved ones.

you were no different. with two goblets in your palms and a semi-wrapped present under the meat of your arm, you made your way through the bustling crowd.

cheers and sounds of merriment were all around, a light break in the hustling environment helped you guide seamlessly towards the private section.

Where the emperors section lay tucked into the corner. Candles were spread out by the area, lighting it up beautifully while green foliage surrounded the offered foods.

“Ah, look who it is.” Placing the glasses gently, your thumbs brushed against the wooden table, with lidded eyes you smiled at Geta. “Good merriement to you too, my lord.”

The taller man scoffed, veiny hands smoothed over his mouth, wiping the stain and aroma of a bittersweet wine. His robes were ornate, gold lay about the seams as a white and red scheme took over the vastness of silk.

“Looking for your lover?”

Rolling your eyes, you sat down just beside him. Slumping forward with one arm pressed against a cheek, a sigh escaped quickly. “How’d you know?”

“Like it isn’t obvious,” gesturing to his drink, a servant dipped a bottle forward, filling Geta’s chalice completely.

The woman looked at you expectedly, already inching the beverage towards the empty cup.

“That’s alright,” you smiled, “see if anyone else needs their fill.”

The lady bowed, already on her way to the tables beside your own.

Swirling the marooned stained liquid around, a bored look crossed the emperors face before he spoke again.“So, what did you get my adoring brother? A robe, new rings… perhaps another disgusting pet to lay upon his shoulders?”

A laugh, warm and light broke out of you and Geta joined in smoothly. “No, no Dondus Jr,” nervously you brushed your hair back, little baby hairs escaped the tight braids and already you wanted to fix it.

“I got him something he’s been wanting actually.”

“Oh?” Geta leaned forward, his array of jewelery shined bright against the light. “And what would that be, dear one?”

Glaring jokingly at the ginger, you couldn’t help but return a moody tone back, shoving against his snoopy nature. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually—“

“Angel!” Even through such a loud setting, his voice could be distinguished. Cranking your head up, you noticed the wrinkled clothing, the mess of hair placed upon such a pale head.

Your adoring husband.

“Finally,” Geta called out, tone flat and certain.

“I thought you were skipping such celebrations, we almost gave up hope!”

Caracalla, ignoring his brothers pokes, went straight for you. Not having time to stand, you smiled brightly up at the man, already he was placing a kiss upon the crown of your head, and one more on your temple.

Although he looked messy— seemed unfit for such an occasion, the man came with gifts. Two were perched precariously in his hands as a grin overtook his features.

“Angel, you left without me! I told you I had to get ready.”

“We both couldn’t be seen late, my love. It is unbecoming.” A whine, pitched and high left the man’s pouting lips. “Who cares? Not like they’ll say something.”

Caracalla gestured for you to stand and with no fight at all you did just that. Now, with access to a free and warm chair (thanks to you), the emperor crashed down, it was then that Dondus inched their way out from the back of his head, crying out to their owner for such an unexpected action.

“Hello little one,” you cooed, your arm came out for the little creature, to which they took most excitedly.

“Wife,” Caracalla whined. “Come, sit!” Spreading his legs, the twinned emperor made room for your frame.

“Gods,” a look of disgust was thrown your way. “Do you two have to be so touchy all of the time?”

“Yes,”

“Of course!”

The both of you coherently called out as Caracalla brushed his nose upon the smooth skin of your neck, just where the dress dipped down.

“I got you something,” you sung teasingly, your nails climbed their way up his arm until it met with his soft jaw. “You did?!”

“Mhm, well, technically I got you two things but,” leaning in, you had to whisper gently with lips just grazing his ear.

“You’ll have to get the other one tonight,”

Caracalla grunted out, although it sounded more like a muffled moan, his hands dug into your hips and with reddened cheeks he looked anywhere but you.

“Do you want the other one now?” You questioned,brushing past his unruly bangs.

“Yes— please,” already the man knew what present was his and grabbed at with with callous hands.

“Calla— patience!” Interrupted by a laugh you tried to slow the man down, but already the present was unwrapped and the emperors hands stilled.

“You didn’t.”

“I did!”

Geta leaned over the table, the wine in his hand dribbled over the side but it couldn’t be more forgotten.

“Impressive.” His brother spoke, eyeing the gift suspiciously.

It was a small knife, no bigger than a dagger but the ornate design made up for it. With a golden handle, white and yellow jewels go vertically up the sides, to where the silver, shined blade lay on display.

“You— how did you..” His eyes noticed an inscription, on the butt of the blade lay his initials, purposefully dug in with the skill of a smith.

“Happy Saturnalia, my love.” A kiss was placed upon his cheek, smudging a light red upon the man’s skin.

Geta lost interest completely, instead his attention turned towards the citizens bickering in the middle of the hall— pushing and shoving each other while accusations were being thrown. A contented, deep grin entered his face when a punch was thrown, then two.

“Your turn, Angel!” Finally out of his stupor, Caracalla placed a poorly wrapped box in your hands. It was long and small in width, only a fool couldn’t tell what such an item was but you held a look of surprise none the less.

“Mmmmh, what could it be?” Long nails felt there way under the material of the gift, until the top was lifted and removed.

Gods, you really were surprised now.

Shakily, your fingers glided against the stones of the jewelry, you couldn’t believe just how many jeweles lay upon the golden chain.

You were afraid to even remove it.

“Do you like it?” Nervously, your husband chewed at his lips, his palms now itching with sweat placed themselves on either side of you.

Afraid to even touch your figure with such tainted skin.

“I love it! Are you joking? I— I don’t deserve such a gift, my love, I—“

“Angel! What nonsense,” he growled, offended of such an exchange of words. Hastily the man grabbed the necklace, you bit back a worried garble of noises as the cold chain found its way on your neck.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in Rome, you of all people deserve such an item. It was made just for you.” Finishing up, the necklace was placed just right, not too tight but sturdy enough to be placed above your collarbones.

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled. Caracalla laughed at your embarrassed figure, his long fingers brushed back the hair hiding your face.

“Always so humble, angel. Look at you,” cooing, Caracalla caressed your reddened cheeks and you tried to scold the man, push him away with a gentle shove but it didn’t deter the man one bit.

“And where’s my little gift, brother? I gave you yours already.” Annoyed by the interruption, Caracalla pointed at the other gift beside his goblet.

“Have at it, Dundus picked this one out for you brother.”

“Very funny.” Geta squinted, picking up the box with hesitancy.

….

“It wasn’t a joke, brother.”

[hyewka]

I just read your public vibrator gyu. GOOD LORD I NEED A TYUN ONE, but like in the car where the both of you were supposed to go on a late night drive and every time the stop lights go red, the vibrator goes into its highest setting this goes on until poor little tyunnie is sobbing and needs to fucked dumb in the car PLS PLS PLS I NEED IT I NEED IT SO BAD I take one look at tyun and my brain immediately goes "I need to fuck him"

im obsessed with usually composed subs that get bratty when you start to push and push, taehyuns perfect for that lol

idk why but him specifically in work business attire, tie perfectly adjusted, black framed glasses propped up as he stirs the wheel with one hand is sooo attractive but whats even more attractive is getting him to lose his shit when hes not supposed to. i know this isnt exactly what you asked but i think an enemies with a fuck buddy situation going on would be sooo hot here, so easy to get him agitated

he shifts in his seat like it’s nothing when you turn it up a notch. “really?” he scoffs incredulously, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “you’re gonna try that again?”

you twirl the lollipop between your fingers, not even looking at him. “focus on the road, taehyun,” you say, sounding almost bored.

he barely reacts. barely. but you catch it from your peripheral vision-- the way his jaw clenches, how his fingers grip the steering wheel just a little too tight. he’s pretending—he always pretends like he can handle it, like he’s composed, but you know better.

first red light. you turn it up, and he immediately jolts in his seat, biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood. “s-stop… i’m trying to drive—are you insane?!” he grits.

“and doing such a good job of it,” you chuckle, leaning over to trace a finger along the line of his tie. "i'm just dying to know how long you’ll last like this.”

“fuck off,” he growls, but the effect is ruined when his hips jolt as you poke at his crotch. the gasp that escapes his lips is so sudden, so embarrassing, you can’t help but grin.

“what was that?” you tease, poking him again, watching his body spasm. “can’t handle it, can you? poor tyunnie.”

it's pissing you off slightly that taehyun's still holding onto that facade, eyes focused straight ahead like he’s actually going to make it through this. he's making this tougher than your patience allows.

the light turns green, and he slams on the gas a little too hard, jerking the car forward. you snort, watching his legs tremble under the strain. “you look so pathetic. can’t even keep it together on a simple drive. how’d you even get your promotion acting like this?”

“s-shut up—” he tries to snap back, but he's barely holding it together. you hate admitting it, but he's so god damn attractive it drives you up a wall. he keeps adjusting his tie and his eyes keep glancing around the road. he’s a mess, glasses slipping down his infuriatingly perfect nose and all.

next red light. you crank it up again. taehyun’s head drops back against the seat, his chest heaving, hips bucking helplessly as he lets out a low, broken moan. “shit—please, stop, i c-can’t—”

then, as if giving in to the desperate haze clouding his mind, his hand shoots down, fingers fumbling at the waistband of his slacks like he’s going to jerk himself off right there.

before he can even start, you smack his hand away, hard and fast, making him gasp and look at you with wide, desperate eyes.

“bad, bad boy,” you chide. “don't you dare touch yourself, keep your hand on the wheel.”

he stares at you, incredulous, his breathing heavy, but he’s too wrecked to come up with a response.

you tug on his tie, pulling it tight against his throat. "bite down."

taehyun surprisingly doesn’t hesitate, sinking his teeth into the tie, his moans muffled as he tries to grind down into the seat, his hips moving on their own.

when he starts driving again, your finger circles his crotch, enjoying the taste of the artificial sweet cherry flavor on your tongue (and of course, how loud he's shamelessly being). “you act like a brat at work because you like being put in your place outside of it, right? no wonder you’ve been such a pain lately. guess this is what you’ve been wanting all along.”

he chokes on his own breath, a strangled noise escaping him, his cheeks flushing red. spit starts to drip down his chin, wetting the tie he’s biting down on. you roll your eyes. "disgusting."

third red light. you turn the vibrator to its highest setting. his body jerks violently, a sob ripping from his throat as he slams the brakes, forehead resting against the wheel. “no, no, fuck, fuck—i c-can’t—”

you reach over and slide your hand down, palming the hard length of his cock through his pants, feeling the wet spot where he’s already leaking. “so fucking wet for me,” you murmur, your fingers pressing into him, making his hips jolt. “you’re such a fucking mess.”

he’s sobbing now, still biting on his tie, completely ruined, tears streaming down his cheeks as he begs, practically shaking in his seat.

you just smirk, watching him unravel. “poor thing,” you coo, leaning closer to his ear. “so desperate to cum, but you don’t deserve it, do you? look at you, sobbing like a little bitch.”

“plthse,” he slurs through the fabric, the words barely audible, muffled and wet. “i’ll b-be good—just lemme cum, plthse—i can’t take it anymore.”

you press harder against his cock, feeling him throb under your palm. “you’re not cumming until i say so,” you whisper, your hand sliding down to cup his balls through his pants, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. taehyun’s hips jerk up, chasing your hand like a dog in heat. “but keep begging. i like it when you beg."

[manmuncher777]

House of the dragon men and bratty!reader

Daemon -

Daemon is mixed, part of him adores being able to put you in his place, while the other is just wanting you to be a good girl for him and do as he wishes.

(he definitely leans more to liking your bratty behaviour more)

It definitely an ego boost for him when you can go to giving him attitude one minute to crying with his fingers in your cunt the next.

He’s a mix between hard dom and soft dom depending how much of a pain in the ass you’re being.

He just loves teaching you that actions have consequences

“Im sorry my lord!” you squeal as Daemon pulls another orgasm from you. Your legs are now quivering as his fingers don’t stop their attack on your clit. Daemon was invested, one hand was fingering you roughly while the other rubbing quick circles on your clit. It was your third time cumming in a row and you were embarrassed at how quickly he had made you cum each time. “oh? you didn’t seem sorry earlier princess when you were talking to lord Corlys”. So maybe you were feeling a bit neglected and tried to get daemons attention during a feast held by the king. It definitely worked. Your limbs ached due to all of the tensing they had been doing, trying to escape the over stimulation of Daemon’s skilled fingers. “if your crave my attention like a common whore, i’ll treat you like one.” he smirked at you, watching as you tried to make eye contact with him. You were failing miserably. Your eyes rolling back and your body squirming with each pump of his thick digits. His fingers already having you a shaking mess. Just you wait until he fucks you on his cock

Aemond -

Aemond loves it when you are bratty. He loves to play the game

He knows you’re doing it for the sole purpose of him to out you in your place

he’s certainly not complaining because he loves to see how good you can be after a good fuck

“oh fuck, Aemond” You scream, your words sounding slightly slurred due to all the pleasure your receiving. Aemond had you bent over the bed while he fucked you from behind. YOur arse was branded with pink marks in the shape of your husbands hand. His cock was mercilessly pistoning into you with brutal pace. “What happened to my proper lady wife from a moment ago? she had a lot more to say than just my name”. You could hear the smugness in his voice, he was fully aware you were in no shape to answer anything he was saying in that moment. You probably didn’t even hear him properly. All you could do was lay there and take it as he destroyed you. The sounds of skin slapping together was drowned out by your wanton moans you didn’t even bother trying to disguise. Another harsh slap to your behind jolting you forward. You had thought it would be funny to avoid your husband that morning, giving him a slight attitude. To be fair with the way you were being fucked it had worked in your favour. “sȳz hāedar, taking me so well wife.” He bent down to whisper in your ear, laughing at the desperate whine you let out.

Aegon -

Aegon enjoys the chase, and when you misbehave it always keeps things interesting

We all know he would have a power kink after becoming king, so holding dominance over you when you act out is a huge turn on

He enjoys it because it doesn’t take much before you’re acting like his sweet little wife again

“What was that you said earlier my love? about me not being able to fuck you properly was it?” Aegon questioned as his grip on your throat tightened slightly. “Ah Ah, eyes on me” he slapped your face lightly. Your eyes fluttering shut due to the pleasure, his cock dragging in and out of you slowly, teasingly. You forced yourself to make eye contact with your husband, looking at his handsome smirking face “there she is” he whispered watching your face scrunch in pleasure. “im sorry my king” you whispered to him, hoping he would stop this teasing punishment and fuck you hard. This teasing pace felt amazing, but left you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. He knew what he was doing, despite how good you felt wrapped around him, he wasnt going to give up yet. “oh my love, you will be” he smiled at you, kissing you deeply. He removed himself from you almost fully, before plunging back into your soaked cunt. All you could do was moan into the kiss as you felt your husbands smirk against your lips

[st44rgirlxo]

pt. 2!!

part 1 is here

Katsuki couldn’t sleep not after what happened a few days ago. He was a mess. How could he be so stupid. You were the only person that mattered and he still fucked it up. He rolls around in his bed, looking at the time. “11:35 pm”

Every time he tried to talk to you he got ignored. You wouldn’t budge. Katsuki even thought you blocked him because you would answer his messages at all.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to make things better. He gets up and walks out his dorm. As he makes his way to the floor your dorm was on, he makes a stop at the kitchen to get your favorite ice cream he bought earlier today.

As he’s walking the hallways he hears faint music coming from your room. “good she’s awake” He hesitates before knocking but does anyway.

Immediately the music stops. You slowly open the door but as soon as you see who it is you shut it. But katsukis reflexes are too fast. He grabbed it with his hand.

“Im coming in”

before you could argue he was already inside your dorm shutting the door behind him.

“I don’t want to talk to you katsuki”

“ no, no you need to listen to me please”

“I’ve been miserable without you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you and I shouldn’t have I was just really stressed and got overwhelmed. im sorry baby”

“what took you so fucking long. i missed you”

he sighs of relief and jumps to hug you. you swear you heard him sniffing as if he was crying.

“can you stay the night kats? I haven’t been sleeping lately”

he nods and you lift the covers sliding under them. Before be gets in bed with you he takes off his t shirt, exposing his muscles.

“lord we might not sleep tonight either”

lmk what you want me to do next!!

requests are open!!💕

[starboye]

pairing: matt sturniolo x male reader

request: Neeeed a Matt fic where him and reader have a quick fuck in the car where reader rides him in the backseat while his brothers go shopping and they almost get caught/do get caught 😭😭😭😭

warnings: smut, kinda public sex, cursing, unprotected sex, caught after the act

on some of the rare occasions when matt would take you all out around the city you'd usually end up stopping by a store where everyone would get something they want but today it was only nick and chris who wanted to shop for some clothes so when they left it was just you and matt in the car... all alone... with enough time to spare.

"so how's your day been" matt asks turning to you, his hand moving to massage your thigh "pretty good" you say turning to look at him "only pretty good" matt question in a joking manner "you know what i mean" you say nudging his shoulder "well i could make it better" matt says before pulling you into a innocent kiss but it soon gets more heated as matt moves his hand further up your leg "matt no we shouldn't" you lowly whimper through the kiss "c'mon their not gonna be back for another 15 minutes at least" matt tries to convince "and you know i can work fast" matt bites his lower lip.

"true" you say "then come on" matt urges getting in the backseat and soon after you finally get in the back with him, straddling his lap and begging to make out "i swear if we get cau-" you get cut off by his hand slipping past your waistband "what, cat got your tongue" matt smirks against your lips "shut up" you whimper a little "we're not gonna get caught" matt assures sliding your pants and underwear down to reveal your plump ass.

you run your hands across matt's chest as you both continue to make out, steaming up the windows with your combined body heat "fuck me" you lowly say wrapping your arms around his neck lazily "i thought you said that was too risky" matt tease running his slender finger along your hole "i don't care now, you started this so finish it" you say desperately "okay then" matt says pulling his pants and underwear down enough to let his dick out.

you moan at the mere sight of his dick "you want it in you" matt asks stroking it lightly "mhm" you nod "you're so cute when you're desperate matt laughs lifting you up and aligning himself with your entrance and lowering you onto him, he kisses you to silence any moans that may find their way out of the car to the passerby's ears, matt thrust his hips upwards into your ass creating a mess out of you.

"you okay" matt asks "mhm... excellent" you say trying to hold back moans "c'mon don't hold back those pretty moans" matt says caressing your cheek with a grin plastered on his face, this fucker wants you to moan out as if you guys aren't in the most populated part of town fucking in the back of his car, you were thanking the lord himself that the windows were tinted but that still didn't calm your nerves.

"matt... i love you and all but im not gonna moan out your name when i'm nearly having a heart attack right now" you say sternly looking at him with lust and nervous filled eyes "you sure" matt says thrusting his cock into you roughly making you yell out a moan before your eyes dart around to see if anyone heard.

"hey look at me" matt softly say turning you to look at him "no one's gonna see us i promise" he says now fucking into you with soft thrusts, you calm down and take in the experience, now riding matt instead of him fucking you "that's a good boy" he coos resting his head on the seat as you do all he work, your hand planted on his thighs for stability as you lift and lower yourself on him.

"ju... fuck- just like that" matt chokes out feeling his climax rise up, getting closer and closer to cumming and he grabs you by your waist, tightly gripping into your flesh "y/n" matt whimpers leaning in to kiss you "let it out" you whisper, matt hears this and immediately cums in you with a grunt, pushing out all his cum into you as you smile down at him.

"we should fuck like this more often" matt says "no thank you" you laugh "whatever" matt replies before noticing his brother walking out of the strep "shit shit shit" he panics and you turn around and see the problem and rush to get back to the front seat, pulling up your pants messily, barely making it before they open the door "hey guys" matt tries to play it off.

"hey" nick replies suspicious of what was going on "ew matt why the fuck does it smell rancid in here" chris asks pinching his nose "i don't know" matt lies glancing over at you and rolling down the windows "oh my god were you guys having sex while we were in the score" nick asks in disbelief "no what the fuck" matt says getting defensive "you guys totally were" chris adds "just get in the car" matt says "i'm not getting in this sex filled car, ill take an uber" nick say and chris nodded his head in agreement.

"fine then" matt says before pulling off after chris and nick shut their doors "you handled that well" you joke "whatever" matt chuckles, nick and chris may not have drove home with you and matt but that meant once you get home you have about 20 minutes till chris and nick arrive, i wonder what you'll do with that time?

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[okaerina]

𓍢 (bnd ver!) like its 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 .ᐟ ໒ 𓂅 ໋⋅

SIMP! bnd x CRUSH! reader GENRE ! pining, fluff, angst if u squint TW ! none (lmk if there is any) NOW PLAYING ! . . . . magnetic by ill-it WC ! 7O2

𖠗 𝐣aehyun — shy cute flirt !

insert butter-myung. once he lays eyes on you he's a goner like he's so dramatic about it, panting and clutching his chest hard "guys i think im going to die if i don't wife her up". is pretty delusional too yk. will outwardly flirt with and then get so shy smh. very cheesy pick-up lines that most of the time fail to flutter your heart but does give you a good laugh tho lol (his biggest accomplishment). expect lots of attention and acts of service ^^

𖠗 𝐫iwoo — calm (going insane inside) sweet guy !

tries to be very calm with you, his hand will always be balled in a tight fist and tries to hide the teeth gritting with a nonchalant smile (but the red ear says all lmao). very rational yet funny, constantly pulling jokes that actually make you laugh yet still being respectful. shares his food with you specially donuts!! takes you to caffé dates "hey, there's this new pretzel shop wanna check it out together??" if you say something about dieting he would immediately encourage and lecture you about how important it is eat alot. will try to feed you too >_< !

𖠗 𝐬ungho — nervous yet reliable big guy !

the first time he saw you he was literally going through a massive panic attack, he literally thought he saw an angel lord! tries hard not to stutter or get nervous around you cue the clammy heads lol. but he still tries to collect his composure together and tries to be more reliable. will tie your undone shoelaces, make sure you ate or drank, always making sure you’re not upset. bro will take you’re side and clap back on behalf of you (sass king). will let you rest your head on his broad shoulder if you fell asleep and he so happens to be sitting beside you chill.

𖠗 𝐭aesan — shy introverted observer !

he's very introverted and often struggles to express his feelings. so he will always just admire you from afar, eyes never leaving you. you're his only muse. he notices all the little details about you and your reaction and expressions to certain things. like the way your hair sways, looking soft, they way you get excited with your friends or the way his heart literally explodes when you laugh or smile. if you end up catching him looking at you he would become shy mess, hiding his face and all. you’ll have to strike the convo first tho cuz he's too shy. loves making playlists dedicated to you oh! he has 100+ songs written for you on his soundcloud (shh).

𖠗 𝐥eehan — confident and shameless flirt !

you thought he was a quite and introverted pretty boy but boy were you so wrong. he's way more extreme in cases of flirting than jaehyun. the fact that he knows that he's drop dead gorgeous makes it even more intense. he will say the most cringiest, cheesiest pick up lines with the signature poker face and an eventual smirk (cue the girls screaming) and expect you to swoon (but you don't) and bro's downbad. veryyy delusional like he will announce to the entire school you two are married (you’re not??). you become the only one he yaps about his fishes and weird obsessions too. will hysterically start crying if you tell him to eat more "OMG YOU CARE SO MUCH ABOUT ME LET'S GET MARRIED!!!" "leehan js eat!"

𖠗 𝐰oonhak — cool guy to loser lover !

he would try to put on a cool guy frat boy image infront of you but it was a big silly FAIL! that one time when you smiled back at his corny "hey, beautiful" he passed away infront of the whole class BYE. he thought he had no game but when you aided for him he realised maybe being a loser for you wouldn’t be so bad actually! "hey cuties this one's for you" and then completely misses the ball smh. takes you out to arcade dates and parks to play (you win most of the time). but nevertheless he's a fun guy to be with (pls let him win time to time :D)

[ 🦢] : last post before semi hiatus (again exams sigh)

[00ops1e]

simon riley and fatherhood

When Simon came home from a deployment to find you, his sweet Mrs. Riley, about a month pregnant- he panicked.

He had never given much thought to children. To be frank, there simply was too much on his mind to even consider the possibility. Given his profession and upbringing, he always assumed parenthood just wasn’t for him. 

He knew you've always had a secret longing for a baby, keeping it to yourself out of respect for him and his sanity.

So, after the initial shock wore off, he couldn’t deny his excitement. Your giddiness certainly rubbed off on him. He acted a bit nonchalant, but you knew him better than that. 

You knew for sure there was nothing to worry about when you caught a glimpse at the open tabs on his computer, pregnancy blogs, lists and lists of names and ideas and tips 

The way he obsessively worked on the nursery was a big tell too, having taken time off to enjoy this privilege that he was lucky enough to share with you.

If he hadn’t initially panicked, he definitely started losing sleep when you found out it was a girl that you were having

Now, we all know and love Simon as a girl dad, but before he grows into the role, he’s a mess.

He’s terribly worried he won't be a good dad to her, that she won't be able to connect with him and somehow without that connection, he’d turn into his father.

For Christ’s sake Tommy was never able to give him a niece to prepare:(

Watching you nest, so excited for the arrival of your little girl, (along with a TON of late-night reassurance) He slowly let his worries slip away to enjoy the last couple of months with just the two of you.

If there  was any anxieties left, they melted away from him the moment he held your daughter for the first time. 

Half sitting on the hospital bed, pressed against you. His arms under yours, supporting your exhausted limbs. The limbs currently cradling your beautiful newborn.

He tears up while taking in the image of his girls, committing it to memory.

On those nights when it seems like sleep is the farthest thing from his daughter’s little mind, he stays up to soothe her.

Not so much because he’d rather you be able to sleep, more because he's completely infatuated with the way those little fingers wrapped around his one, the way babygirl seemed to relax when he spoke.

Simon walks up and down the length of the hall slowly, gently swaying with babygirl in his arms. There's definitely a visible trail formed by the heavy man’s constant, slow pacing.

When you wake up and find him not next to you, you rise and peek out the cracked bedroom door. Simon is lounging in the rocker, humming softly to babygirl. Talking to her as if she can comprehend his words. He is smitten.

To quote some comedian whose name I can't remember, he would take a bullet for you, but goddamn he’d use you as a human shield for this little life bundled in his arms. The love he has for the both of you scares him. He's completely whipped. 

Babygirl got your eyes, and lord knows he can't say no to you. This child will be the death of him.

this was supposed to be shorter but gd it was too heartwarming to stop. but moving on, HI GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE! sorry im morbidly depressed. anyway there will be a part two of this because its rotting my brain and i wanna take a look at when babygirl is older!!!! let me know what everyone's thoughts are please!

[beloveds-embrace]

Noon, babe, I have such bad brain rot right now and need to share it. Right, going on an undercover intel mission with TF141, its a big fancy charity gala and as the daughter of an billionaire its easy to get on the guestlist and you need to pick a plus 1. The boys all argue on who it should be but ultimately you pick Gaz (you dont want to make Simon uncomfortable by making him take of his mask, people you know are there and they'll know Price is older than your usual dates and Soap is too crass). So you to the gala in a beautiful backless dress that matches the colour of Kyles tie and you begin your mission. You eventually make your way to an office where you download documents but get warning that someone's coming so in an attempt to make it seem like you werent snooping, you grab Kyle and sit on the edge of the desk, slotting him between your legs and messing up both your hairs and his tye before placing one of his hands on your tight and hitching it around his hip while his other one goes to your lower back and you pull him into a heated kiss. You do get interupted but manage to play it of as you just wanting to get frisky with each other and when you return to the party and immediately leave Kyle has a hardon the whole time and you propse to finish what you started putting the divider up in the limo and fucking Kyle in the back. When you get back to base, its obvious what happened and the others are jealous and raging they didnt get to fuck you first so they all take turns until you can barely remember your own name

I can’t hoard this any longer but lord. Anon. I need to make out with your brain it’s just too good 😩 imagine also wearing lace lingerie or- or those thigh jewelry with the letters and you are wearing one with K on it?? Im abt to go feral like Kyle would also be the second he notices all the little details.

A lil offtopic but the best song for this? Petition by beyonce because also imagine talking dirty to Kyle in french?? Lord forgive me im abt to BUST

the dress and lingerie aren’t surviving once you return to base though <33 they gotta show you how nicely they can fuck you too <33