#he can also be surprised when he finds out i have at least a decent mezzo voice and know several arias 😌

[bardengarde]

I won't vote in the mash swamp fmk polls bc I'm not strong enough to sentence anyone to death, but I will marry Hawkeye bc even tho I can't fix him I Can and Will take care of him and make sure he has good food until his dying day, and in return all I'll ask for is the occasional hug and compliment

And in the other one voting against marrying Charles is actively voting against my own interests, I could be so rich can u believe it, and it would also be so funny bc he would Hate marrying someone from lower Appalachia >:)

[cin-cant-donate-blood]

Ever wanted to know how to pronounce the name of our favorite Ur copper merchant, Ea-nāṣir? If you haven't looked it up, I can almost guarantee that you are saying it wrong, but fret not. I will share the secret with you (or at least the buest guess modern experts have).

The reconstruction of how to pronounce his name currently looks like this in the IPA:

[e.a.ˈnaː.t͡sʼiʁ]

If that looks daunting, keep reading.

While Ea-nāṣir may be remembered to us as a Sumerian, he did not speak Sumerian. The Sumerian language was all but extinct in his day, and Sumerians now spoke an unrelated language called Akkadian.

The infamous complaint tablets are written in Akkadian Cuneiform, which is a complicated writing system that it is difficult to figure out the pronunciation of after the fact. Pronunciations have shifted considerably during the time that modern people have studied it. All the same, we have a "buest guess" at pronunciation.

The first thing to note is that Akkadian has phonemic vowel quantity, which is a fancy way if saying that the length of a vowel is really important. Ea-nāṣir's name has four vowels, and three are short and one is long. The long one is the A with a bar on top (called a macron, pronounced MACK-ron or MAKE-ron). If you see that symbol in other languages it is probably also a long vowel (you'll see this in Arabic, Latin, and many other languages).

This also tells us where to stress the word. While Akkadian has somewhat complicated rules for stress, Ea-nāṣir's case is simple: stress the syllable with the long vowel.

The vowels themselves are the vowels you would find in Spanish, Japanese or Swahili: the E is closest to the English vowel in dress, the As are between trap and palm, just like Spanish gato, and the I is somewhere around sheep or fear.

So far, intuitively, you're probably pronouncing it something like "e-a-NAW-sir", which is getting closer to the accurate idea, but we haven't looked at the consonants yet, and unfortunately they are the hardest parts (for an English speaker).

The N is just a regular N. This isn't too surprising since N is one of the single most common sounds across all spoken languages (perhaps only beaten by M).

The R, while contested among scholars, seems to be leaning towards a "back R" or "guttural R", the way French people and some Germans do it.

That leaves the ṣ. Oh boy. It is, first of all, an affricate, like the Z in pizza. "e-a-NAAT-sir" would as such be a good try. It is, however, also something called an ejective, which is a notoriously tricky type of consonant where you block the airflow while saying it, only to release it immediately after.

You know the T-dropping that some brits do, or the way you rapidly close off air flow at the back of your throat when saying ah-ah-ah (and perhaps wagging your finger)? Try putting an air release like that right after the ts sound. If the closest you get is "e-a-NAT-suh-ir" then you are already doing a good job.

If you are a perfectionist, here is an old youtube video of a person making the noise, with decent audio.

And that's it, really. That is a complete breakdown of the best guess we have at how Ea-nāṣir's name would have been pronounced.

[yinyuedijun]

TOKYO VICE | part 2

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

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

part 1 here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

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

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

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

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

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, for the love of—”

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

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

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

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

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

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

“Oh?”

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

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...no, I'm fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

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

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

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

“Stop that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

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

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

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

“Wh-what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're mortified.

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

What a horrible man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do feel like prey.

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

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stops.

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

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

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

You’re going to cry.

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

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

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

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

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

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

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel devastated.

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

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or?”

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

And when your master died.

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

“Why not?”

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

“And?”

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

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

You love him so much it disgusts you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you say quietly.

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

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

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Suo,” you start.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suo pauses.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayato,” you whine.

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

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

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

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

“Suo, wait—”

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

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

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

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

Her tray clatters to the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S-suo.”

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

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

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

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

“I…”

“You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hayato—”

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

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

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

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

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

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

Then he starts pushing into you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You aren't going to complain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Although?”

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

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

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

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

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

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

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

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

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

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

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

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

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

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

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

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

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

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

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

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

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

END 'TOKYO VICE'

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

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

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

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

[reidrum]

carry the weight of you | s.r

A/N: i had this posted on an old blog but here's this, idk if i like it but it's also one of my first fics so if lemme know if you have thoughts <3

cw: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader is sad, depression ?, spencer is a cutie who just wants to love, can be read as gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

_______________________________________________

it was supposed to be a routine case. well, not a routine case. those don’t really exist in the bau, but one that had a clear MO and decent enough leads that garcia could easily use to find the unsub. it wasn’t even a case that was especially creepy in nature, lord knows those give the whole bureau nightmares for days.

so why did you feel this way?

you were relatively new to the team—having one year under your belt to your near decades experienced colleagues. but you had rightfully earned your spot in the bau, and you deserved to be there.

but right now you had no energy to believe that. the ache in your chest was ever present from your younger days, courtesy of the circumstances from your upbringing, and you should’ve expected that joining the fbi would’ve only made it heavier. you bared it nonetheless because that’s what you were taught to do. you felt beaten down by the last few days, and just couldn’t wait to get back home and crawl into your bed.

the team had wrapped up the case, and you all were on the jet flying back home to the district. sat next to the ever observant dr. reid, he noticed your glazed eyes and distant aura exuding from you.

“you okay?” he bumps your shoulder bringing you out of your trance.

“i’m fine, don’t worry about me.” you replied curtly and tried to fold into the crevice between the seat and the walls of the plane.

“bold of you to lie to a profiler while on a plane full of profiles,” he chuckled lightly, “seriously, you look troubled. are you sure you don’t wanna play honesty hour right now?”

“spence, i’m okay, I promise.” you tried your best at a genuine smile that was as see through as a windexed window. he returned it with his own thin lipped smile and left you be. 

were you okay? you don’t even know how long you’ve felt like this. small, insignificant, nothing. you do great work at your job, tarnishing evil and saving lives. but you can’t help but find it ironic that it’s your own mind working against you that seems to be your demise. 

the jet landed around midnight and the team shuffled through the bullpen to gather their belongings before going home. everyone offered their goodbyes and goodnights and spencer was waiting for you by the door. you both lived in the same apartment building, only because when you first moved to quantico you had no one and knew no one. spencer took it upon himself to help you out, being the newest young rookie on the team, a position he was all too familiar with. his next door neighbor had moved out for an immediate job offer and was looking for a subletter and lo and behold, spencer had become your best friend.

in the few months that you were getting accustomed to the area spencer invited you over for nightly chess games and doctor who marathons. morgan always teased the two of you saying you should be going out on the town having fun only young people can have, and spencer would blush and stammer something out but you would have the brightest smile and look at him saying they were the most fun you’ve had.

so he was surprised to say the least when those nights started to become far and few. you would politely decline and spencer would assume you’d finally listened to morgan and got better plans. but he could hear the patter of your footsteps and the occasional expletive from when you’d hit a table corner and wondered what he did to make you recluse yourself again.

spencer was a profiler after all, mix that with being your closest friend and he could pinpoint the moments you started to change. you’d started making less jokes, even during moments where the team would pause and wait for a little quip from you but hear nothing. you were harder to gain attention from, usually needing three or four calls to get you to even look up. and he just saw you distancing yourself, almost like you didn’t want anyone to perceive you.

spencer loved you. he wouldn’t say it out loud or admit to anyone but point blank he loved you. he felt understood in a way that no one else made him feel. you were kind, smart, funny, and the empathy you held for others was enough to make him tear up. you were there for him when maeve died, letting him cry on your shoulder, and as fucked up as it sounds he realized he loved you in those moments leaking tears onto the stomach of your sweater.

so here stood spencer in front of your desk, “you heading home?” you nodded, “mind if i ride with you? i don’t feel like taking the metro this late.”

“okay, let’s go.”

the walk to your car was silent, and somehow the ride back to your apartment complex was even more silent. walking up the stairs to your apartment doors, you turn the key and step in when spencer goes, “hey actually i think i left my book at your place do you mind if i just look for it really quick?”

you stared at him blankly. you just wanted to be alone and he wants to get his book now? unbeknownst to you spencer was desperate to get to the bottom of your melancholia, and needed any in he could find right now to get there.

nonetheless you nodded your head and left the door open behind you so he could walk in. you dropped your bags and shoes at the front door and trudged through your apartment to your kitchen to put tea on the kettle. you softly called out to him, “do you want a cup of tea?”

“i’d love a cup.” he says sitting on your couch.

you’re fussing around the kitchen getting two mugs out— one doctor who and one snoopy mug. you fill the doctor who one up and add a lemon slice and turn around grabbing your snoopy mug. when you turn back towards the kettle you hit the corner of the island table and watch as your favorite mug drops and shatters into millions of pieces.

when they say a straw is what breaks the camel’s back you fully understand what they mean now because how are you about to lose all your shit over a snoopy mug. you don’t even make an effort to move, just staring at the broken pieces on the floor, trying to make sense of them like a kid pointing out cloud shapes. it’s like you can see the pieces molding into the demons that keep you up at night, the thoughts of uselessness and lethargy personifying in front of you.

spencer has to call your name three times before you finally move your eyes to meet his. you can see his lips moving but you can’t hear him, his hands are out as if he’s telling you to stay put oh wait he is. you wait as he finds your dustpan and broom and brushes up the remains into the trashcan. he slowly approaches you and maneuvers you towards the living room where you sit still glossy eyed and trembling.

he sits down next to you and places a hand on your bouncing knee to soothe it, “why won’t you talk to me?”

you shake your head, “it’s nothing spence, it’s not a big deal i can buy a new mug.” push it down.

“not that, something’s not right. and i want to help. will you let me help you?”

you feel the tears making their way up your face to make their grand exit, and you hold on to last bit of resolve you can as you shakily breathe, “i-, i can’t, it’s stupid and we see so much worse stuff so i have to keep it together and i am but today was just-“ you abruptly got up to get water from the kitchen before finishing your sentence. grabbing a glass from the cupboard, filling it up at the sink, and gulping it down with shaky hands. you set the glass down and placed your hands on the cool counter in an attempt to tether yourself to some string of reality that was left. you couldn’t burden him. you wouldn’t.

spencer gives you a minute alone before rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen. he approaches you slowly from behind, mirroring his hands on top of yours, entrapping you in his warm embrace. “i think you’re carrying so much,” he whispers gently in your ear, “you don’t have to do it by yourself. it’s okay to not be okay.”

the tears win and start streaming down your face silently. spencer continues, “what we do, it’s hard. we all have ways of not letting it get to us. rossi and his cigars, hotch and jack, garcia and her tchotchkes, i mean even emily with her sin city weekends.” you let out a wet laugh in response.

spencer doubles down and intertwines his fingers with yours, “my point is, you are not alone. i am here. let me carry some of it for you, please.”

letting out a soft sob you twist in his arms and burrow yourself into his sweatered chest. this was a new feeling for you, letting someone in to see the horrors that you worked so hard to suppress. why would anyone want to brave that journey? surely you weren’t worth the effort.

but as spencer tightened his arms around you, rubbing his hands soothingly down your back and placing a kiss at the crown of your head, you felt that even if the walls of your resolve came crumbling down that spencer would be there to catch as much as he could. and that was enough.

“thank you,” you mumbled tearily incoherent.

“i will always be here for you, no need to thank me sweetheart.”

his kindness overwhelmed you. how could someone who sees so much darkness and been through so much still hold the level of kindness he does?

you lifted your head slightly as his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, “so, what do you have?”

he hummed quizzically in response. you continued, “you said everyone has ways of getting through it, what’s yours?”

“it’s you,” spencer softly says with the most tender loving look in his eyes, smoothing your hair back as he looks down at you in his arms, “it’s always been you.”

your eyes welled up even more and squeezed him tighter if it were even possible. spencer had you. and now you had spencer.

the next day you show up to work, a snoopy mug with a gift bow sits on your desk. 

[visionsofmagic]

watching them as they train. ⭒ mk1

—✦requsted by anon.∗ imagine watching liu kang, kenshi, bi han, kuai liang, and tomas working out. you can’t help but ogle them. their muscles straining visibly, they are panting, sweat is rolling off them, THEN feeling them up. how do the guys feel about this?

╰┈➤ tags: spicy, sfw, pet names, sweating, watching, flirting, tattoo, gn!reader, use of y/n, no specific use of gender, boyfriend dynamic, fluff, ‘s all I suppose. ✩ wc: 2.3k ✩ rose’s notes: offf, this one was so spicy to write and I like how I imagined this entirely while reading your request, lol, love ya & thanks for this hot request! hope you all will like, enjoy. [also, changed the aesthetic of requests post, hope this one is prettier. muah!]

✩ liu kang.

being the god of fire, protector of the earthrealm, and having a decent power in his system, he needs to train his muscles, physical strength, and power as well as he does with his mindset. watching him sitting down on the carpet, eyes closed, hands connected while being inside his mind to power it up as if he’s not the most powerful soul in the entire timeline is the thing you do as a habit now, so, it’s not surprising when you find yourself sitting on one of the benches on the training area as he trains alone – no one else, just you and him.

it’s different than watching his peaceful closed eyes, a little smirk on his face from time to time as he knows you’re there to take a sight of his meditation – because he gladly allows you to. it’s different even within the air – it’s too hot to handle and the wind doesn’t help at all because how he has no particular sleeve on his upper part, wearing just pants as he trains with his sharp movements.

muscles getting tighter, sweat running from his neck to his exposed chest, professionalism is as clear as the sun’s rays and you can’t stop thinking about how easily he will use his skillful hands on your body – he’s making you weak by only training and you know that he acknowledges his effects on you, making his training session sharper and more powerful than it is needed as he turns his back, arms move fast, making his back’s muscles go visible to your eyes.

mouth getting wet on its own, your eyes travel from his sweaty hair to his sharp jaw, arms with visible veins, white tattoos covering his arms and a part of his chest beautifully, sweat flowing from there until they reach his abdomen, making you gulp in excitement.

is it wrong to fantasize about a god? you can’t answer, and you don’t care about it either – well, at least, your instincts don’t care because without calculating its outcomes, your legs move on their own as you get up, slowly approaching him. with each step you can hear his deep breaths, and can see his sweats shine under the light of the sun.

he stops at his movements when he feels you near, chest rising up and down still. standing in front of him with warm breaths hitting his hot chest, you can’t help but touch his arms’ tattoos full of sweat – slowly enough to get a warning from his parted lips. “y/n –“

“yes, my lord?”

you can see his eyes narrowing, mind studying the situation and knowing that you will not stop, not after both of your hands happen to be on his chest, rubbing his muscles from time to time and earning another warning from him as he grips your wrists – fingers still playing with his arm muscles, getting wet, “you should stop, I need to train for one more hour, pretty.”

“train with me,” you say, putting a kiss on his exposed chest before turning over, knowing the god of fire, the man of determination, can’t resist your open invitation, and agreeing.

“you will be the death of me, my love,” he says, picking you up in bridal style as he goes to his room – to train with you of course, much hotter this time.

✩ kenshi.

to get back his sword from johnny, and be worthy of his clan once again, kenshi tries his best – so hard to accomplish his aims – he needs to be strong, he knows it, and the knowledge pushes him to train over and over again until he can beat everyone who crosses his way and avoiding him to reach his destination.

and there’s one more reason behind it – having you as his audience. his beloved lover who likes to watch him get a good view of his exposed body, half-naked, showing his muscles off even though he will deny it. he can have his orange training clothes to wear but in that way, he won’t be able to see your parted lips that you bite and lick occasionally, eyes shining as they travel on his body shamelessly, hands move rapidly because of not knowing where to put them because your mind is not working entirely when he winks at you whenever he changes the way he trains – legs, arms, back muscles – doesn’t matter as long as you get heat rushing on your body which he knows so well.

“liked what you see, love?” he will ask, smiling down at you when he takes a break, chest rising up and down as he stands on his foot, hovering over you, teasing because it’s so fun to play with your cute mind.

“u-huh,” you say, looking at his chest and waist covered with sweat rather than his eyes directed at you, “like it so much –“ you add, and to his surprise, you put your hands on his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sit on the bench still, and eyes turning up to find him, “are you doing it for me to like it?” you tease back as your hands move from his waist to his abdomen, feeling his six packs tighten under your fingertips. “cute.”

“not as cute as you, prettiest.”

then, he will make sure you put your hands on his body whenever he takes breaks until he is done with training and takes you into his room, admiring your body the way you do to his. after all, he is such a pleaser that he needs to return the favor.

✩ bi han.

for being the grandmaster of the lin kuei clan, the man who seeks great power, bi han trains a lot – he needs to, he has to.

he never gets exhausted by training with his potent stamina and determination to become the best – the strongest to bring great accomplishments to his clan. also, he never gets tired of having you beside him as he trains after he tells you to watch him closely to see what a true and good training session will look like – well, half truth half lie because it’s not the only reason why he keeps taking you into the area, having you sit down on the carpet, on your knees and watch him – it’s all because of you though, you were the first one who requested to do it and from the way you look at him, his body and mostly muscles with parted pretty lips, he can’t bring himself to train alone when he can your pretty face lighten up with desire of him as he does it.

knowing he does it on purpose, you sit down on the carpet calmly – as much as you can anyway, watching him having only his pants on, ice appearing on his hands until it reaches his elbows, the temperature getting colder but you don’t – it only gets warmer for you when your eyes travel on his torso, chest, shoulders, arms – full of muscles and sweat, getting tighter from time to time with the impact of his hard training. oh, you think, he truly deserves the title of grandmaster.

thighs clenching together, hands getting between your legs, eyes sparkling, and lips getting licked, you know bi han laughs menacingly inside his mind whenever he takes a look at your messy situation – he definitely does it on purpose, doesn’t he?

your question is answered when he cleans his sweat with a towel before sitting in front of you on his knees, hands positioned on his lap, raising an eyebrow he asks, “did you learn anything from my training, y/n?”

nodding, you challenge him by saying, “yeah, I learned how your muscles move so beautifully, sir.”

he chuckles deeply, and letting you do what you wanted to do before, taking you by the wrist, he puts your hand down on his shoulders, “now learn how they feel under your touch, doll. it’s what your hands carve after all.”

instead of saying anything, you use your hand movements as an answer – massaging his rigid muscles on the shoulders, moving from his chest from there until they find his abdomen, full of thick packs, showing his masculinity off so perfectly that you put a kiss on his exposed body, earning a low growl from the man.

“if you keep doing that, I will use your body as my training tool, princess.”

he sounds deep and hot – you’re being a brat. “then, do it.” and he does it in a way you can never imagine before experiencing it.

✩ kuai liang.

he doesn’t mind having your company when he finds alone time to train his abilities to make them reach the highest point; on the contrary, he finds it amusing how you even bring snacks with you as if his training session is a scene coming out of your favorite show – you admit it though, he’s your favorite show to watch because how it cannot be when he has sightworthy attractive and cute features, especially in the training area in which he has nothing on the half of his body – yes, you see it every day and night yet it’s far more different when it comes to seeing him training with his tools to strength himself up.

watching him jumping, crouching, using his knives with long ropes you happen to have on your wrist a night ago, your hand stop in mid-air, not being able to eat a snack because of how your mouth keeps getting wet – the hotness coming from him and hitting you on the face heavily isn’t related to his ability, no, it’s only coming thanks to being so damn attractive right now; all sweaty, breathing heavily and rapidly, movements perfect, gaze he gives to you breathtaking.

“what is it princess?” he will ask, a knowing smile on his face, taking a bottle of water to drink as he sits down beside you, radiating two different kinds of warmness to your body, “I am the one who trains and you seem to be the one with no steady breath.”

his teasing stops when you can’t help yourself and touch the scorpion tattoo on his thick and big arm, moving from there to his shoulder slowly. chuckling, you say as your hands travel on his wet chest and abdomen playfully, “who has no steady breath now handsome?”

“oh?” he holds your wrist, pulling you closer, hot breath hitting your neck when he puts a kiss on there, “when I am finished with the train, you even won’t be able to have a brain to remember how to breathe, pretty.”

✩ tomas.

“what now?” he will ask firstly, trying to find a few excuses to tell after you sit on the ground, smiling widely and telling him you want to watch him as he trains – because, ugh, he knows he will get all shy and missing a few steps, or doing his sessions incorrectly with the effects of having your piercing eyes on him, studying him, literally seeing every move and it makes him a bit nervous because being the cute little boyfriend, tomas wants to be as perfect as he can be in front of you – no one else’s, except his brothers.

his desire to impress you in every way, the situation as possible gives him a bit of sadness when he shows some weakness as he does exercises, you behind him, sitting and watching – oh, he sucks, isn’t he – he will think until the moment he realizes that you don’t watch him train – well, you do, but not with the way he excepts.

your eyes scanning his arm muscles, back, thighs, and hands as if he’s a piece of art with thick and sharp features he has – he can see how you bite your lip from time to time, smiling face is long gone, replaced by the expression of passion and tomas can’t decide which one makes him happier; to realize his not-so-perfect training isn’t understood by you or to witness your greedy gazes as you keep your eyes on him, clearly liking what you see.

being addicted to pleasing you, tomas smiles at himself and without hesitation, he takes his tight sleeveless top off of his body, showing his body underneath it – getting proud when you begin to lick your lips, thighs getting clenched with pure instincts.

even at his shiest moment, he teases you by standing between your legs, holding you by the chin, and making you look into his shining eyes with joy, “you’re quite an admirer, my love, aren’t you?” he asks, leaving you dumb for a moment before you come into your senses, smiling as your palms position on his exposed chest, playing.

it’s his turn to be dumb at the sudden action, “after what I am watching is the most beautiful sight in all realms, of course.” your hands are shameless as they flow on his top, admiring it as a true admirer.

“then let me put on a show only for you, my goddess.”

[reverieblondie]

Desperate for HCs for the men with a "crybaby" SO (in the nsfw sense)

Okay this prompt turned out to be way harder than I thought it would be, so I tried my best! Thank you so much to @savriea for your help with the Gale part! What you wrote for him was the best and I am so grateful for your help! I hope you enjoy!

Rolan, Raphael, Halsin, Astarion, Wyll, and Gale!

Rolan

Rolan isn't quick to warm up to strangers, so of course, he kept his distance, but something about you did make him curious. Strong, heroic, pretty, and stoic compared to the others in your group. For the first time in a long time, was Rolan taking an interest in someone? Of course, he didn't want to make it obvious, but he found that when you were in the grove, his eyes were on you, trying to learn about you from afar. However, on the inside, it was gnawing at him to get to know you better and talk to you. It was the day of the grove party, and even though you were the night's hero, you still insisted on helping carry supplies for the party. As Rolan was in the storage shed, he was trying to find food that would be decently tolerable when he heard a loud crash. Quickly, Rolan turns the corner to see what had happened when he locked eyes with you holding a crate with no bottom, and bottles of fine wine crashed and staining the ground. Rolan goes to say something to you when he finally notices your face, red and streaming with tears. Looking back at his shocked face, all you could do was tremble out that you were sorry. Shocked was an understatement; he thought you were the tough badass, but you are crying over a simple mistake. You felt like a complete failure; you ruined the good wine, and now we're expecting a verbal thrashing from Rolan, who, based on what you observed, was not afraid to speak his mind. Then, he starts to laugh… Rolan couldn't help it, and it made you tear up more. With a snap of his fingers and a mutter of a spell, Rolan cleans up the mess you had made. Rolan gently touches your shoulder, "You shouldn't cry, and I don't mean to laugh. I'm just…surprised by you. I thought you were emotionless, but you're actually secretly a crybaby. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Then he flashed you his sharp-toothed smile, and you couldn't help but smile back. You didn't realize he had such a pretty smile. Later at the party, as people grimaced while they drank the cheap wine, Rolan and you shared a look and a smile as he pressed a finger to his lips. 

It happened again; a simple mistake had you in tears behind the inn, away from prying eyes. When Rolan sees you, he is quick to kneel by your side. According to you, there was a blunder at camp, and you managed to burn a hole in Lae'zel's tent; they would be returning soon, and she is not one you want to make angry. As you explain your story, you feel yourself getting worked up again; your chest starts to feel tight, the lump in your throat returning, and fresh tears threatening to spill; but before you can, you feel a comfortable warmth wrapping around your leg. Then, a calm hand on your shoulder; you're unsure why, but you feel more at ease already. "If you like, I can help you fix the tent; you won't believe how many times I've had to mend burned clothes. There is a reason why Lia isn't allowed to cook anymore." you two share a quick laugh, and you find yourself leaning into him. "Thank you for offering to help me…" Rolan laughs, "Considering everything you have done for me, it's the least I can do. "You two stay there for a while longer, neither of you ready to leave the comfort of this moment. You hope that if you both make it to the city, you two can continue to help each other, even in small ways.  

The more time you spend with Rolan, the more you learn about him. Not only is he intelligent and a bit cocky, but he's also a bit of a tease. Of course, this fact about him didn't appear until you two started dating. You had been helping him in the shop, and for some reason, it must have just been the god's cruel joke to have everything that could go wrong at work happen to you today. Trying to avoid crying on the floor, you hid away in the storage room in the back. Rolan, busy with demanding customers all day, was ready to slip away for a break; as he goes into the dark storage room, he runs into you. Thanks to his dark vision, he sees you all ready and on the verge of tears. Rolan grabs you close and asks what he can do for you; imagine his surprise when you tell him you want a kiss. Of course, he agrees eagerly, though he did not expect your kiss to be so hungry and your hands to cling so desperately. You feel Rolan smile through the kiss, causing you to break away and look into his glowing eyes. Though he is a faceless shadow to you, he can perfectly make out your flushed cheeks and tightening thighs. Rolan grabs one of your hands and drags it down his body as he whispers in your ear, "Want me to help you, Tav…Make you feel good…" Your hand touches his hard length, and it takes everything in you not to whine out your yes. Rolan licks your neck, making you moan as you both eagerly start to undo your bottoms. "Poor thing is messing up all day… all because your feeling so fucking needy… don't deny it, I can smell on you." The best thing about Rolan is that he always follows through when he teases. 

He's completely overwhelming, and you just can't get enough…His smell, warmth, his breath cascading over your sweating skin, his hand holding your hips so tightly you feel his nails digging into your skin. All this you can handle, but when his rich voice coos in your ear… that sets your nerves on fire. You feel Rolans forked tongue slide against your ear as he shoves you down on his cock deeper, The full feeling making your body tremble. "You're taking me so well. I'm proud of you…" Rolan purs in your ear that addictive praise that always makes your stomach flip. It was only a matter of time before he found out about your kink, but you didn't expect him to abuse it as much as he does. Rolan arches your hips up, pushing his length to hit your G stop, nonstop ramming into it, making you clench on him with a moan of his name. Rolan rubs his hand on your ass before squeezing to cause more moans to fall from your kiss-bitten lips. Rolan relishes in the noise, rolling his hips deeper, watching your blissed-out face with a lazy smirk, "Those are such pretty sounds. Keep them up for me." his voice is a mixture of sweet and mocking. You can't help how the intensity always makes your eyes tear up in the pleasure of all he's giving you; it's just too fucking good… 

Raphael

You are an adorable sight that Raphael can not help but lick his lips at. You have been a delight since the first moment he saw you. Your body trembling from his true form, hopefully look in your wide eyes as you take in his words, then the delish tears that fell when you took his deal to give him the crown. So innocent and eager to please all you meet, the best part? That sweet innocence, any bickering, teasing, bullying, and your face was welling up in hiccuping tears. It takes everything for him to not break his regale physode and lick up your tears as they fall. Raphael can't, not yet, at least. He needs to have your trust, and then once he is sure he has you where he wants you, he will be sure to take what he wants. You, on the other hand, can't help but fall for his charm. He's a devil, sure, and maybe you're just hopeful and naive, but something about him makes you trust him… You have seen his house…heard the tortured souls, and shed tears from what you witnessed, but when his hot breath caresses your skin as he thanks you for his crown, you're flooded with things you have never felt stir in you before. Tears can't help cascade from your eyes as you flush from the welling of tears… Raphael's golden eyes take in the delicious sight. He feels something pring in his chest as your trembling hand softly touches his face. "will…I ever see you again…" your voice shakes. That feeling of devouring you changes to one of protection. Raphael wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his tunic as a smile stretches to his lips. Innocent little mouse… you're his now, forever.

You're crying again…why the hell are you crying again…you had shown up here sad and down-headed, muttering something about you and your companions getting into an argument or something. At the time, you insisted you just need time to calm down, but now, as he is trying to review contracts, all that he can focus on is your cries ringing in his ears.  However, Raphael is shaken up by something…he thought that he would be here growing annoyed with you, but he has just grown concerned. Instead of wanting to stop your cries because he doesn't want to hear you sad…he can't stand it. Before he knows it, he is standing up and marching over to your slumped, sniffling form. As you open your mouth to apologize, you're being silenced by a tight embrace and kisses to your temple, "I, you're crying… I'm sorry," Raphael rubs his hand softly on your back, slowly settling you…" Tell me what happened; let me help you." Raphael, usually selfish and arrogant…until it comes to you…maybe it's just a phase of something different that will blow over, or perhaps it's love…

You swear you have never been so embarrassed, but you missed Raphael and couldn't help yourself anymore….Tears threaten to fall, and the tightening in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. You move your hand faster, but then a disapproving tsk makes you pause, "Slowly…move your hand slowly, mouse…" You flick your eyes over to Raphael, where he sits watching you with a smirk, "I want you to build it slowly…till you can hardly bear it.." with a trembling sigh, you slow your hand, the feeling in your stomach feeling like it burns as your mind clouds. Raphael had caught you touching yourself while you waited for him to get back from a meeting. Instead of taking over for you or letting you finish, he pulled up a chair, and instead of instructing you, he told you it would feel so good…and it does…Raphael taunting and teasing controlling everything you do to yourself. It feels like you have been edging yourself for hours, your hot tears slipping down your face, and he was relishing in it, at his innocent mouse being so naughty… Raphael leans back, watching your quivering sex, licking his lips. "Does it hurt mouse?" You can hardly contain your quivering sob, "Y-yes…" his eyes clouded as he licks his lips, "What do you want…" you hesitate to answer, being too shy to say, it is so embarrassing… "Mouse?" His stern voice shoots a shiver through you, "To cum…" "Oh, that's very naughty…do it, make a mess on my sheets…let it wash over you…let the ecstasy take over." You start to move faster, moaning louder, the feeling reaching a mind-numbing peak. A blissful tear falls as you get closer and closer. A finger wipes away the tear, and you look up at him as he stands next to you now, a cocky smile still on his handsome face, "I wanted a closer view…"  

"Raph-Raphael-" a careful hush eases your hiccuping. Raphael brings his large hand to rub up and down your waist as the other digs into your hip, making you let out a whiny gasp. Raphael's hand comes up to tweak your nipple, making your body jump and a sharp cry fall from your swollen lips. His hands are mind-numbingly hot as they overwhelm you. "So sensitive mouse… you have only taken the tip." Raphael sinks his cock in deeper, your entrance stretched taught from his devil-form cock, your insides trying so desperately to accommodate to his textured girth, hot and throbbing as it drags across your insides. "It's too much!" another moan rips through you as he bullies in deeper, sinking in with more force than slowing up for you to accommodate and catch your breath. You can't help the tears that start to fall from your burning cheeks. "Shh… you're doing so well for me, mouse, crying so beautifully…" Raphael leans down, dragging the tip of his hot tongue over your tear-soaked cheek, then a sweet, chaste kiss to still your trembling begs. Right as you start to adjust, he pushes in roughly again, the pain swirling with pleasure as he overwhelms you. "You're so close to taking it all, my pet…are you ready?" He chuckles. "Might hurt for a moment, but then it will be pure bliss…" His sultry words are a sweet promise. You look at his beautiful face, which is slightly shining from sweat, the fires making him look like he glows. "Yes…" Raphael smiles and cups your cheek…it feels so tender…Then he snaps his hips, hitting that spot within you that rips out a scream…" Oh mouse, your cries are delicious." his pace quickens, "Give me more…" 

Halsin

It's incredible the kinds of people you will encounter in a lifetime, especially 350 years of life, but none of them have stirred anything in him like you have. Halsin doesn't know if he wants to hold you close and smother you in kisses or take you over his knee and give you a firm spanking. You're a brat, and the cherry on top is a crybaby, too, one that pouts and huffs with irritated tears when you don't get your way. Most couldn't handle someone like that, but Halsin isn't like most. Typically, Halsin is one to bow at a person's whims, but he likes to challenge you and work you up to a tissy. You're willing to go round and round with him, sometimes going against him to just get a reaction from the patient druid. Halain knows your game and is unwilling to give in to you so easily. Finally, after you're in irritated tears and groaning, you nest your head into his chest as he gently rubs his hand along your back. "Halsin, I thought you liked me…" you say through sniffles, "I completely adore you…but you lost the bet, and I can't just let you go back on your word." You pout at him with a huff, tears pooling in your eyes. "You're just going to let Astarion take my favorite ring." Halsin chuckles and pinches your cheek. "You lost the bet, and fair is fair, my brat, now stop pouting…or else…" he teases, and you bite your lip, looking up at him with mischief…" is that so…" such a brat.  

Sure, considering how much your always throwing fits, you would think that Halsin would be desensitized to your crap, but without waiting every time you're upset, there he is right next to your crying side, letting you cry it all out. It's best to not bottle up your emotions. He is always so charitable and calm, and you… you're a crybaby brat… you know deep down he deserves better than you, but you're too selfish to let him go. It was another one of those days where you let your emotions get out of hand, and instead of being an adult and dealing with it, you're lurking in your tent. Halsin comes in and sees you facing the corner; he knows not to lecture you. You hear him sigh and rummage around; before you know it, he's sitting next to your crying form with his wood carving stuff laid out, ready to be at your side till you're ready. Halsin pats his large hand on your head and places a quick kiss. He whispers something in elvish you now know means, 'I will wait for you.' He's just too perfect… its not an hour later you two are wrapped up in a tight embrace as you give him a thousand sorrys with a thousand kisses.  

It's torture, complete and utter torture when he does this to you. Halsin has fooled everyone except for you… and that's exactly why he does this to you… Adjusting yourself, you can't help but shudder at the feeling, your mind sparks, and all you can muster is a whimper. Halsin chuckles as you squeeze his shoulder, your face a contortion of pleasure and desperation…His large hand pats your back as the other keeps busy with the letter he has been writing for what feels like hours now. "Try not to stir my heart…it only makes it worse…" his husky voice makes you dig your nails into his muscle, "Hal-H-Ah-Halsin, please!" your whining makes his cock throb within you…the sensation makes you move up and down impatiently, wanting to feel the friction against your walls. You have been cock warming Halsin, it was the only way he could convince you to let him finish his work, but you know deep down he just likes to make you whine. That bratty crybaby nature, he loves to fuck out of you to submission, only for you to keep acting up for him to do it more. Right as your body is feeling some relief from your grinding on him, Halsin brings his hands to still you; the tears can't help but start to pour from your frustration. "Damnit Halsin! Why?!" Halsin places a finger on your quivering lip to silence you, "Don't be so quick to anger…I promise once I'm done, I will reward your patience…" As he says, he rolls his hips, making you throw your head back at the feeling of his mass so deep, "Now quit being a brat…"  

You had been acting up all day, and despite his warnings, you just wouldn't stop with your attitude…well, now you're in for it. The first chance he got, he was dragging you away from camp and bending you over, your hands braced on the tree in front of you, and a wide smile on your face…Halsins hands roam over your ass, teasing you further, "I told you to stop being a brat…You ready?" With an excited yes, you're being spanked by a powerful hand. It stings as he punishes your ass over and over again; your hands tighten against the bark as that pain mixes into pleasure. For someone trying to teach you not to be a brat, he sure does reward you for it. After the nth time, Halsin hears a shuddering gasp, giving him pause. Halsin is quick to gently turn you around and is horrified to see your face red with tears cascading down your cheeks. Halsin is a slew of apologies as he holds you close. You hold him closely, then using surprise to your advantage, push him down to the forest floor. Halsin looks at you in surprise as you straddle yourself over his strained cock, "Is that all you got, druid? I was expecting…more." oh, now you're really in for it. In a few more moments, you cry out to every deity you know as Halsin as you ride his cock at a bruising pace. When will he learn you are a glutton for punishment? 

Astarion

Astarion is not a man known for his patience, especially when it comes to crybabies. In Astarions' opinion, he is the only one who gets to whine and cry about anything. It's not that he would actually be sad; he's mainly just irritated. What was the point of wasting tears on things someone can't control? Then you joined their merry band, and he started to figure it out. You, the dazzling hero of the day who would do anything to help, hells Astarion, were sure you would give the armor on your back if you thought it would help someone. How irritating… You have always been a compassionate soul, and when you would see anyone in need or when others cried, you found that you felt it deeply, and then the tears would fall. Never bumbling or hiccuping, just tears that would glisten from your eyes to streak your cheeks. Astarion remembers when he first saw this from you; at the grove, as the refugees lamented their troubles to you, he saw that you started to cry from their pain. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes at you, but then you swore to help them with an unbreakable resolve in your eyes, and something in him stirred. Your tears became a regular thing on your adventure together, and though he would never say it out loud, he found something beautiful about it. As you two grew closer and he told you about his past, he saw those shimmering tears again, Astarion hadn't shed a tear, but it was like you felt his pain…someone saw his hurt and wanted to cry for him. Astarion couldn't help himself, his cold hand whipping gently at your tear-stained cheeks, "I wish I could take away that pain…" Your voice quivered, and then his lips kissed you sweetly. Just being there and trying to understand him helped ease his pain. 

Today, you had seemed quieter than usual, and Astarion couldn't help but take notice; he found that lately, he started to take notice of you more and more. Your routines, your attitude. It was late, and everyone else had turned in for the night. You stayed up watching the dancing fire. Clearing his throat to get your attention, he finally saw those glittering streams running down your cheeks. Shit… Astarion, not exactly the best at consoling people, did the only thing he could think of, "Would you care for a walk?" with a slight nod, you and Astarion took a walk through the quiet wood. The crisp air and the sounds of the whispering animals were soothing. Then there was Astarion just silently walking beside you. Though he didn't say it, you knew that he would listen to you should you decide to speak…but talking about it wasn't what you needed. All you needed was his calm presence next to you, there just in case. When you two finally return to camp before Astarion can slip back to his tent after your silent walk, you grab his hand suddenly; he looks at you confused before you smile and thank him. Him just being close always makes you feel better.  

It's no surprise that though you might be more sensitive than most, Astarion never passes on the chance to tease and taunt you. You know, this is just how Astarion shows his affection for people. Sure, it's a little unorthodox, but that's Astarion, and you can't bring yourself to mind it. Today, he was taunting you and your bleeding heart. You yet again find yourself helping another helpless soul. So, while you are packing up his things to join you, "I swear you will just say yes to anything a person asks of you now." Astarion says with a smirk. "Well, Astarion, have you ever thought I might like getting myself in trouble." Astarion looks at you confused, "You? Enjoying trouble?" it was just too easy…you walked over, placing a hand softly on his chest, "I do enjoy being around you…and you're definitely trouble. In more ways than one…" Astarion looks at you confused before he smiles, "Are you trying to act like me right now?" you smile and pat his chest, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Thought I should tease you more, Wada think?" Astarion pinches your nose, "I think you need practice, but I'm more than willing to give you some tips."  

Could it always be this soft…this gentle… your lips meet his in a slow, controlled kiss. Your warm hands cupped his face, telling him you're here, not leaving, that you care. Your tongue is slow and timid as it asks for his lips to part. Astarion almost wants to laugh at the timidness of it; here he is naked with you, rutting slowly in between your legs, and you're scared that your tongue in his mouth will be too much. Astarion loves that about you; you're so caring and soft, even to someone like him. Astarion sinks in deeper, and you let out a groan from the stretch, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat that Astarion just can't stop kissing. Your hands carefully holding onto him tighter, but nothing to mark him…he's been marked enough for a lifetime. Softly, you coo his name breathlessly, and he never loved the sound of his own name so much; you're just… everything to him. Astarion brings his lips to your ear, gently easing you till he can't help himself anymore, "I-I love you." he feels you stop moving, and for a second, he thinks he might have been wrong, but before the doubt can manifest in him, he hears a sniffle. Leaning back, he sees your eyes shining in tears and a wide smile; you look beautiful…" A-astarion, I love you too. He leans to kiss away your tears, so this is true intimacy. 

Wyll

Sometimes, you seem unreal; you're the kind to take on a whole goblin camp and fight for justice, but the simple sight of a meowing kitten or an old couple holding hands and sharing a tender moment will have you blubbering in tears. You're a complete sweetheart and a bit of a crybaby, but Wyll can't help but find it endearing. You're like a breath of fresh air after being on the road for so long. On the road, people act so tough and hard, never giving away any emotion, but not you; you're so honest about how you're feeling, willing to shed tears at anything that pulls at your heartstrings and that pulls at his. Cute and sad things were not the only things to make you cry. Wyll found that any sweet romantic gesture would make your eyes well up in happy tears. First, Wyll started out by giving you a flower; it was a casual gesture of affection for your relationship getting stronger, but the way you started to shed tears, it was like you received bad news. Through your sobs and hiccuping Wyll asked if you didn't like flowers, his consideration of your feelings made you cry more and fling yourself into his arms. "I love flowers; it's just so sweet of you to offer me one." You hug him tighter, feeling his heartbeat racing in his chest. "Thank you, Wyll. For being so sweet to me." Wyll wraps his arms around you tighter, already planning his next sweet gestures. Asking you to dance, making you a meal, working up to sharing a kiss… and one day bringing you home a kitten.  

Most people would find this annoying, but Wyll can't help himself. Your kindness and soft heart know no bounds, and Wyll feels that by the day, he is falling more and more enamored with you. You smile through your tears as you watch the celebration; everyone seems so happy and relaxed that they can finally continue their journey. Lost in the rejoining of the party, you fail to see Wyll come to your side; how he learned to be so quiet to sneak up on you, you will never know. Wyll gently brushes his finger to wipe away your tears. This instantly makes you apologize for crying again when it is not justified, but Wyll just wraps an arm around you, letting you lean into his surprisingly comfortable body; you would think for his physic, he would be uncomfortable to lay against, but… he's so warm, and comfortable… "Don't ever apologize about who you are." you let out a laugh, "so you don't mind being around a crybaby?" Wyll just shakes his head, "No, I don't mind drying your tears; it's nice being around someone so in tune with their emotions." Wyll squeezes you tighter, "Maybe if I'm around you, it will show me how to be more honest with mine." The rest of the night was spent with you two sharing small talk, curling further into each other's embrace.   

Wyll tries his best not to tease you. He is a gentleman, but sometimes he just can't help himself from a little playfulness, and yes, you will admit that it makes you pout (but you love this side of him). Wyll knows to be careful not to push you too hard because of your soft nature, so he got creative on how to get you to adorably pout. As you're sitting by the river trying to scrub the blood out of your clothes from today's battle, your mind wanders to Wyll and how he hasn't flirted with you today (how dare he!). Quietly, Wyll makes his way to you; he decides to play, which he thinks is a funny trick. He taps on your left shoulder as he gets close before quickly darting to the right. It never fails that you look to the tapped shoulder to then audibly groan his name, trying to hit him. Today, though, you take the chance to splash water on him, causing the start of an impromptu fight. Of course, Wyll is winning by having you laugh to the point of tears as he avoids your hits. Then you both pause… he looks down at your face, smiling gently as he wipes away a tear from your cheek. Wyll leans in, and you close your eyes, ready for this to finally happen…" Tsk, could you two resist procreating in the middle of camp. Disgusting…” You and Wyll quickly separate with a sigh… Lae'zel strikes again, but she's not wrong; maybe you can ask him to come to your tent tonight…

The tears couldn't help but flow out of you. Everything is so sensitive. Everything feels like, at any moment, you could burst into flames or burst into more tears. Your only saving grace is the soft kisses Wyll leaves on your body. "Just a little more; hang on a little longer, my love." His words drive you to hold on through the overstimulation about to reach your third mind-melting orgasm. Wyll is constantly pushing your body to its limits. You two had waited to be intimate, and Wyll assured you it would be well worth the wait. Of course, he was right about it. Now every night since Wyll has fucked you to incoherent whimpering and blissed-out tears as his length drives deeper in you, making that tight coil in your stomach snap for the fourth time now. His stamina is unrelenting as you coat him in your arousal. The crying of his name from your swollen lips drives him for one more, "One more, one last one, for me, baby…"

Gale

(This first bullet point was written by the amazing @savriea they are truly amazing and this snippet inspired me so much! huge thank you to them!)

Gale was captivated by your bravery at the grove. You stood tall against the druids, your determination making a difference for the tiefling child. It was a rare sight to see someone so unyielding yet so compassionate, and it had left a profound impression on him. He decided that he wanted to share a piece of his world with you, so that night he set up a small area away from camp and invited you over. He watched you intently, admiration in his eyes as you prepared to learn the basics of magic. Your initial attempts were clumsy, your fingers fumbling over the components, and your words stumbling over the syllables. Gale instructed you patiently, demonstrating the precise motions and enunciating each word clearly. But despite his guidance, the spell fizzled out for the fifth time, leaving a faint shimmer in the air before dissipating entirely. Frustration welled up inside you, the weight of repeated failure pressing down on your shoulders. The dam finally burst, tears spilling from your eyes as sobs wracked your body. Gale's eyes widened in panic, his usual composed demeanor faltering as he scrambled to salvage the moment. "No, no, no... hey, it's okay," he murmured, quickly moving to your side. His hands gently grasped yours from behind, his comforting warmth seeping into your back as he pressed his cheek against yours. "We'll do it together." With Gale guiding you, your hands moved through the motions again. He spoke the incantation softly in your ear, his voice a soothing melody that calmed your racing heart. You repeated the words, feeling the magic flow through you, unable to hold back a smile. The weave opened up to you, and for the first time, you felt its power caressing your skin. You laughed, a wet sound through your tears, your cheeks streaked and eyes glassy. Gale smiled, a mix of relief and pride shining in his eyes. "See? You did it," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration as he wiped your tears with his hand.

You felt ridiculous... you had decided to buy this outfit as a sexy surprise for Gale, but now your nerves are getting the better of you. Right as your about to change scraping your idea entirely Gale is walking through your tent, right on time as usually. Gales eyes widen not only from seeing your beautiful body on display but he also is feeling concern seeing your eyes starting to well up. Gale is quick to come to your side and hold your tightly, his large hands rubbing slowly up and down your back gently. Waiting till your calm Gale finally decides to ask you what's wrong. you explain how you wanted to wear something sexier for him and you started to second guess yourself, Gale can't help but smile. "You look completely beautiful not matter what my love, though I can't say I am not flattered..." Gales hands start to wonder making you laugh as he buries his nose in your hair taking in your sent that only spurs him on more... "Why don't we give you an actual reason to cry?" Of course you couldn't deny him. Gale knows exactly how you like it, he has made studying how to get you off his top priority these days. Gales lips caress your hips as his hands squeeze gently against you ass, coxing you to wrap your legs around his head so he can start tasting you. His tongue licking long strokes playing with your most sensitive parts before he is wrapping his lips around is and sucking softly. Gale drinks in your cyprine as your hands grip onto his soft locks. This only fuels him to drive into you more as hot tears of pleasure fall from your eyes and you moan and roll your hip against his face, not at all minding the beard.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded. female pronouns.

In all your focus on becoming strong enough to protect yourself and not be a burden to others, it hadn’t occurred to you that as a Demon Slayer, you’d be receiving a paycheck. 

A fat one at that.

You’re not exactly sure what to do with it. The envelope had shown up, slipped below the door of your lodgings at the Ubuyashiki mansion with your name on it, and while you’re not completely sure what the conversion rate + inflation would be, the sheer size of the stack was enough to make you quite confident that it was a lot of money. The issue is, you have very little use for money as you receive meals and board by virtue of Kagaya’s kindness, and the things you would buy if you could don’t particularly exist in this timeline. 

As you sit on your futon and think again about what it would mean to save and how banking would work in this timeline, and if it’s even worth it given your particular circumstances, a sudden flash of Tanjiro’s smile comes to mind, and you immediately know what to do.

You should buy him a gift. After all, you wouldn’t have gotten through your first mission if not for Tanjiro, you consider, your face warming as you consider what things you’ve seen him receive that delighted him the most. Then you consider that perhaps a gift is too presumptuous, and you see him happy when he has a nice meal, or perhaps you could get something nice for both him and Nezuko because that wouldn’t look too strange, plus he’s happy when she’s happy, or perhaps you could-

Your thought spiral is interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door. Two gentle raps, and then you hear his voice.

Think of an angel and he will appear.

“___, are you busy today?”

When you ignore your slightly quickened heartbeat to let him in, he looks just like the picture in your mind’s eye, sweet, practically glowing with warmth, save for the fact that you notice his hair is slightly damp and his skin dewy as if he’s just bathed. He’s wearing his Demon Slayer uniform but with his regular green and black checked haori over top and his sword is at his side as though he plans to travel. He smells good, and you hope you smell at least decent to him, too.

You shake your head no. 

“Are you planning on going somewhere? Did you get a new mission?” you ask. 

“No, I wanted to know…” he pauses for a moment, then scratches the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling, “if you wanted perhaps to go out to town with me. I was hoping to congratulate you for your first mission.”

You blink twice. He really is always one step ahead of you, you realize. 

Tanjiro lets his hand fall to the side and nods at you, now with a steadier expression. “You did a really great job.”

To this, you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“You mean by staying alive while you cleaned up?” you ask. Tanjiro decides to indulge in your humor, insisting, “It wasn’t all me.” he insists. 

Perhaps that much is true. Tanjiro is a good friend and mentor so it’s not odd that he would extend this kindness first. It’s also an opportunity it would be best to seize, treating him to udon or dango, and offering him some gratitude as well. 

Your mind may shift from time to time to the time he used his own mouth to suck turbulent air from your unnatural breathing technique out of your own lungs, but he is simply a friend.

And friends can hang out. 

—

“It’s a beautiful fit,” the shop owner says as you slip on a peach pink jacket with colorful embroidered petals and blossoms, the last of the four you’ve tried on to Tanjiro’s surprising patience, and glance at yourself in the mirror. 

Something about this entire scene feels wrong but also right to you. For one, you’re not the one who suggested this particular shop - rather it was Tanjiro who insisted you consider window shopping with him, under the guise of finding something for Nezuko, but soon you’d realized that he hadn’t exactly picked anything out, content to watch you leaf through hung designs and listen to the shopkeeper’s promise of superior quality compared to the other stores in the district. You consider that whatever would look good on you would look good on Nezuko and with each trying on of a jacket, you offer pros and cons.

This one is a bit airy and light, very comfortable for summer time.

I think this one might clash with her hair color.

The texture’s too thick here, I’m not sure I like this one as much but it’s very high quality, I can tell.

This last one however is simply perfect in feel and design, and you feel somewhat bad when you turn to Tanjiro and sheepishly say,

“This one is super pretty. I know we’re shopping for Nezuko but I think I might buy this one for myself.” Tanjiro smiles as he rises from the chair in the corner. He’s sat politely for the past few minutes saying very little except nodding appreciatively.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he states as casually as if he were describing the weather, then turns to the older lady running the shop, the same lady who had spent a few minutes glancing between him and you as well, and you’d pretended not to notice. 

“How much?” Tanjiro asks. 

Surprised, you wonder if he hadn’t heard you.

The seamstress names her price and Tanjiro is quick to give money, before you finally hold in your need to be polite and nudge him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He’s unfazed as he hands money over, then smiles at you.

“Buying you a gift.”

“You don’t have to…” you start, but trail off as the woman receiving the money shoots you a dirty look that has you fall silent.

“You’re right, I don’t have to. But I would like to,” he adds.

You leave the shop promptly with a parcel in your hand and the seamstress’ eyes on your back.

—

Perhaps you do look like a couple, even if that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Tanjiro won’t let you treat him to any of the food, insisting you save your money instead through bites of skewered meat and noodles, and you finally find out which bakery supplies the Castella he brings by for you and your friends, as well as the girls at the Butterfly Mansion.

It’s better than anything you’ve tasted in your time, even if you practically choke on a roll when the baker tells you Tanjiro is lucky to be in the company of a pretty girl.

In your own time, you’ve been called pretty before, but this description today strikes at the very pit of your stomach, filling it with butterflies. Does Tanjiro know that you’re pretty? Does he agree? You ponder this for a few moments, then you’re immediately embarrassed to be thinking something so childish. 

Whether you’re pretty or not is moot. To him, you’re a younger sister to whom he buys gifts and food. Perhaps more pathetic since you are not related, since you have no one else, since you’re trapped here.

Tanjiro doesn’t answer the question you’ve posed in your head out loud, but he grins.

“I’m quite lucky indeed.”

—

As you walk side by side at the close of the evening, Tanjiro enthuses you in your progress, and you talk about all and nothing. There are red bean paste buns in your hand that you chew on idly between thoughts.

You’re not sure how the day went by so quickly, not while you were parallel processing, doing mental math to figure out what he thinks of you - as friend, as someone to dote on like a child, as someone who he could potentially…

No, that cannot possibly be it.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks. His cheeks are a warm pink and he’s looking straight ahead rather than at you, but his shoulders are relaxed and he bites and chews as he waits for your answer.

“Of course, I did,” you tell him. “This is…,” you pause, then continue, “probably the first time I’ve been anywhere nice, just for fun, since I got to this place.” Admitting it feels strange, but it’s true. Your life has now been limited to the mansion and towns you don’t know. Duty-driven, despair-driven, danger-driven. 

Tanjiro looks at you for a moment, and for just a moment his look is wistful. 

“Are you happy here?” he asks. Your mouth opens then closes, and then he quickly catches himself in a nervous laugh.

“Probably a stupid question, given none of your family is here, and you don’t have any of your technology and it’s not even your country and-”

You squeeze his hand for a moment.

“I’m happy now,” you offer him, then let go quickly. “Thank you for spending time with me.”

His mouth opens for a moment, and you wonder if you overstepped but he beams, and you wonder what you’d do without this small friendship.

“We should go back,” you quickly fill in before he can say something else and you can regret touching him. You’re the first to take a few steps forward, practically skipping, snacks and new clothing in hand, and you hear him behind you catching up.

“Yeah, let’s get you home safe.”

[mulloey]

perks of the job • mingi & yunho

mingi likes to share

warnings: boyfriend mingi, mingi’s friend threesome, kind of dp (pussy and mouth), dom yunho and mingi but yunho is more dominant, sucking off mingi so good he starts seeing god, mild pet play (yunho makes you crawl), mild praise & degredation, slapping, mentioned punishment, canon massive dick yunho, brief mirror sex, mingi is kind of a cuck,, he’s not a sub but he very much gets off on watching you being used by his buddy, implied manwhore yunho who likes fucking his members’ girlfriends

—————

“I have an idea.”

You look up from your phone to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. You didn’t even know he was awake; you’d left him to sleep when you got up this morning, knowing he’d be tired after staying up all night recording. You can see he’s still half-asleep, eyelids drooping slightly and that dazed expression he has when he’s sleepy still written on his face.

“Morning, Mingi,” you smile. “What’s your idea?”

He clears his throat, shifting on his feet and you frown. He seems nervous about this idea — nervous to share it at least. After months together he rarely even hesitates to share anything with you, so to see him like this has your curiosity piqued. “What is it?” You repeat.

“Um…” he starts. “I think Yunho should fuck you. With me. Together.”

You baulk slightly. You hadn’t expected that to be the idea. You’d talked about the idea of multiples before, but it was casually, and you’d never named names. You definitely hadn’t named his own members and best friends. “Oh.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Mingi says quickly, clearly worried he’s upset or offended you. “It’s just a thought I had.”

You smile and shake your head, reassuring him. “No, I’m definitely… open to it. But why Yunho?”

He smiles and shrugs, coming to sit next to you on the couch. “I lived with him for years,” he says. “He’s into that kind of thing. And he’s into you.”

You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed the last part. Whenever you saw the other members you’d notice his gaze lingering on you, his eyes hovering over your lips, tits and ass; probably without him realising though, because he’s always been exceptionally polite and respectful to you. But the first part is new. “That kind of thing?” You ask.

He nods. “Yeah, he likes being the ‘third’ or whatever. It gets him off in a weird way. He did it with San’s ex all the time.”

Huh. This is new information to you, but knowing Yunho decently well, it’s not surprising. “He fucked San’s ex?”

“Yep,” Mingi says. “Well, they fucked her together. He loved it. I think he was more upset when they broke up than San was.”

You laugh a little, but your brain is already filled with images of Yunho doing… that to you. Fucking you with Mingi, taking you to new heights and using you for his own pleasure at the same time. You can’t say you’ve never thought about him like that; he’s so tall and large and attractive that you can’t help but wonder what he’d be like. Would he be rough? Sensual? Would he take control, calling the shots over you and Mingi or would he let Mingi tell him what to do, how to fuck you?

Now that it’s on the table, you know you need to find out.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You ask.

“Only hypothetically,” Mingi says quickly. “I’d never offer you up like that. I just asked if he thought it’d be fun in theory.”

“And?”

Mingi’s lip quirks. “He said he’d love to.”

—————

Once you agree it’s arranged quickly. Mingi broaches the topic when he sees Yunho at work the next day and Yunho apparently agrees before he can even finish asking the question. You meet Yunho for coffee a few times with Mingi and find that he’s extremely easy to talk to about this. You also find that, now that he knows it’s acceptable, his leering at you is even more blatant. Once you watch as his gaze stays fixed on your tits for 3 entire minutes. It’s strangely thrilling to be looked at like that. You can’t wait until he can finally get his hands on them — and neither, of course, can he.

It finally happens a few days later, in the apartment you share with Mingi. You wake up early that morning, excitement making it too hard to sleep, and take an hour or two to prepare yourself in the shower, shaving and exfoliating every inch of your body. Not that you don’t make an effort to look good for Mingi like this, but this is a special occasion and you want to make a good impression.

Yunho arrives at 7pm on the dot, and the sound of the doorbell has never been so terrifying. Mingi smiles reassuringly before he goes to answer, leaving you waiting on the couch. The sound of voices as Yunho enters the house sets your heart racing. You hear their casual greetings and laughter and stand to greet your guest as he enters the living room. When he sets his eyes on you for the first time he seems to freeze slightly — just as you planned. The tiny white dress you’re wearing shows off your curves perfectly, flattering you from every angle. He takes a moment to digest the heavenly sight in front of him before he greets you with a charming smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say shyly.

“Are you nervous?” Yunho asks.

You nod, a little embarrassed and he chuckles. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m very experienced with this. I’ll take good care of you, honey.”

Mingi smiles at him before approaching you, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulder. You instinctively hide your face in his chest and he tuts, gently pushing you off. “Be polite to our guest, baby,” he chides. You blush deeply but nod and he strokes your cheek. “Good girl.”

You smile shyly at your boyfriend. You can see he’s nervous too, a slightly unsure look on his face, but it’s far outweighed by the excitement evident in his eyes. He smiles reassuringly at you, pressing a kiss to your lips before beckoning Yunho over. Yunho greets you with a hug, just like normal, but you know there’s something much, much deeper behind it this time.

“How does this work?” You ask. “Do we just start?”

Yunho smiles. “It’s up to you,” he says. “We could get right to it, or we could hang out for a while. Watch a movie together or something.”

“Just a normal movie?”

Yunho chuckles, recognising the implication. “Yes, of course. Anything you like. But I can’t promise I won’t start feeling you up if you’re sitting next to me.”

You shrug, hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “That would be fine,” you say quietly and he grins. “But I’d rather just start now.”

Both men chuckle and Yunho pets your hair. It’s not the first time he’s done it to you, he’s always been quite physical (but respectful) whenever he sees you, but it is the first time it’s had quite this effect on you. It doesn’t feel like a gesture from an affectionate friend anymore, but rather, a gentle, teasing touch from someone who’s planning on doing a whole lot more.

Yunho notices your reaction, maybe because it wasn’t as subtle as you thought, and laughs. “You’re so sensitive to me, aren’t you?” He says. “Have you wanted this for as long as I have?”

“Oh, she has,” Mingi answers for you. “She’s had a thing for you since you met, haven’t you baby? She thinks she’s hidden it well but I always knew.”

You throw him a glare but he just smiles innocently, tilting his head teasingly. “Just telling the truth,” he giggles.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Yunho tells you. “You can’t help how you feel, can you?”

You shrug, shaking your head. “I guess not.”

Yunho smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’ve always known you think with your pussy. Little sluts like you always do.”

Your breath hitches and you feel his words deep in your stomach. In your discussions about tonight, Yunho had asked you about the kind of things you enjoyed in the bedroom, and without waiting for you to answer Mingi had gleefully told him how much you enjoyed being talked down to. You’d blushed deeply but while Yunho had laughingly told him to let you speak for yourself, you’d seen the dark gleam that briefly crossed his eyes as he took note of it. You guess he likes it too.

“What do you think?” Yunho asks. His voice is getting lower and more strained each time he speaks and you feel the energy and tension emanating off of him. “Are you a slut?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’m a slut, Yunho.”

He smiles and takes your flushed cheeks in his hands, forcing your eyes onto him. You feel the way his massive hands dwarf your face and it sends shivers down your spine. He could really do anything he wants to you right now. “Then you’ll do what I say, right?” He asks. “Since you’re such a slut.”

You nod almost deliriously, desperate to please him. Yunho smiles at the sight and you hear Mingi laugh next to you. “Such a cutie you have, Mingi,” Yunho tells your boyfriend. “I’d be so jealous if she wasn’t offering herself up like a whore for me anyway.”

Your gaze shifts to your boyfriend, gauging his reaction. He’s fiercely protective of you, sometimes a little too sensitive to the jokes even his best friends make, so you wonder if he’s bothered by Yunho talking about you like this; even if he’d told him it’d be okay, it might be different in reality, hearing his precious, darling girl degraded and objectified like this. But it’s clearly not — your boyfriend is rock hard, dick straining against his pants from hearing you spoken about in such a demeaning way. It makes you even wetter than you already are.

“Shall we take her to our room, Yunho?” Mingi asks.

Yunho nods. He’s been to your house a few times since you’d moved in so he knows the way, but he gestures for Mingi to lead. Your boyfriend motions for you to follow him but Yunho stops you, sticking an arm out in front of you to stop you in your tracks. “Wait,” he says. You stare up at him confusedly and Mingi turns to face him, unsure.

“She can crawl,” Yunho says.

Mingi nods, slight smirk on his lips as he motions for you to get down. “You heard the man,” he grins. “On your fours, baby.”

You feel your breathing falter slightly, unsure of yourself as you lower yourself to your knees. As you start to crawl you feel the burn of hardwood floor against your bare knees but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on than right now, crawling through your own apartment with the looming presence of two large men walking closely behind you. You feel almost like stalked prey, pursued by two larger, stronger, hungry predators preparing to strike.

Reaching the door of your shared bedroom, Yunho holds it open for you, allowing you to crawl through onto the — mercifully — soft carpets of your room.

The two men settle side by side on the bed, staring down at you with dark, piercing gazes.

“We’re gonna use you tonight,” Yunho says after a few seconds, breaking the tension-filled silence. “You’re gonna show us what a good fuck toy you can be, yeah?”

You nod, blushing slightly and Mingi smiles. “I think she should suck us off first,” he tells Yunho.

“Good idea,” Yunho nods. “Suck Mingi’s dick first, baby,” he says. “Show me how you please him.”

You nod your understanding, watching as Mingi pulls his length out and motions you closer. You crawl towards where he’s sat at the edge of the bed and sit back up on your haunches. Mingi smiles kindly at you, miming a kiss which you return. He lets you take his cock in his hands first, rubbing the length up and down a few times before taking it into your mouth. Just like Yunho, your boyfriend is massive, and he shows no mercy as he slams his cock against the back of your throat again and again, letting you choke helplessly on it. He places a hand on your head, tangling it in your hair so he can keep you in place more easily while the other holds your hand where it desperately grips his thigh. You pleasure him just like you’ve practised, moving between deepthroating, sucking and licking according to the commands of the men above you.

“Choke on it again,” Yunho orders. Through teary eyes you look up to see his gaze fixed on you, mouth parted in awe slightly while he slowly palms himself through his pants.

You do what he says, forcing Mingi’s cock to the back of your throat until you gag, pulling your head off of it. Mingi gives you a split second of respite before he yanks your head towards him, forcing his cock down your throat again. He repeats it over and over — choke, recover, choke — until he gets too worked up, so desperate he can’t bear to not have you choking on him for even a second, and holds your head firmly in place, not allowing you to move back and breathe even for a moment. He knows what you can take and how far he can push you, and he’s going to.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You sound so good, baby. Feel so good too. You wanna give Yunho a turn?”

You whine, muffled by his cock as you nod desperately and they chuckle. Mingi gently pulls his cock out of his mouth, slapping it against your cheek a few times before nodding at Yunho. At Mingi’s cue Yunho grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you towards him. “I'm a little bigger than Mingi,” he warns. “But I think you can handle it. Do you, Mingi?”

“She definitely can,” your boyfriend affirms. “She’s so talented.”

Yunho laughs softly before finally pulling out his cock and fuck, he was right. It’s not just long, but one of the thickest and prettiest cocks you’ve ever seen. You feel your eyes water again at the sight and you gulp, staring up at Yunho’s smirking face. His face softens seeing your anxiety and he smiles, reaching a hand to stroke your cheek and letting you briefly nuzzle into it.

“Don’t be scared,” he says. “I’m right here. So’s Mingi.”

You nod, pulling yourself together before inching your head towards Yunho’s cock. You look up at him again, silently asking for permission which he grants with a nod before you take him into his mouth.

You start with the head, holding the shaft in your hand and licking experimentally at the tip. It tastes good, clean, so you quickly let yourself take the rest of it into your mouth. You bob up and down on it, loosening your throat up to take it deeper. His grip in your hair tightens as you go further, strangled groans released when you hit a particularly good spot. Determined to get the whole thing in your throat, you lift yourself up off your knees slightly and he takes the opportunity to reach his hand around to harshly slap your thinly covered ass. You scream around his cock, causing him to moan louder. “Fuck, Mingi, where’d you find her?” He groans. “She’s so fucking good at this.”

Mingi laughs, reaching to stroke the back of your head gently. “I got lucky, didn’t I?”

“I’ll fucking say,” Yunho gasps and you giggle slightly. He moans, yanking your hair forwards to force you further down his cock again. “Feels so fucking good when you do that baby. Make these pretty noises with my big dick in your mouth.”

You work for a few more minutes, and you can feel his orgasm coming before he abruptly pulls out. Hee stands, wobbling slightly which makes you proud, and points to the bed. “Up here,” he orders. “All fours.”

You manage to pull yourself up despite the slight dizziness from the way you’ve just been used and settle yourself where he points, lying on your front with your ass sticking up. Mingi leans to reach your head, gently stroking your hair as he whispers, “you’re doing so well, baby.” You smile softly at him, leaning to kiss him which he allows, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to your swollen lips. “Good girl,” he says, before standing up to join his friend.

From this position, you only just notice, you have a perfect view of yourself in a mirror, and of the two men looming behind you. You don’t remember buying this, and definitely don’t remember putting it here, but fuck if it isn’t a stroke of genius. You gulp, looking up to Yunho’s reflection in the mirror. His brows are furrowed as he stares your body up and down like he’s inspecting it, and he offers a brief smile while he notices you staring.

“Like the mirror, baby?” He asks. “I had Mingi buy it and move it here this morning. Wanted to surprise you.”

You make a noise of appreciation and he smiles. He bends over slightly, leaning over you until his head is right next to yours. He keeps his eyes on the mirror, making eye contact with your reflection as he speaks. “Ready to see how pretty you look when I fuck you? When we fuck you?”

You whine, feeling his words in your stomach and he grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek before straightening back up. You feel two pairs of hands on your, running up and down every inch of your body like they’re claiming ownership, before Yunho quickly flips up your flimsy dress to reveal your ass.

“No panties,” he whistles. “Good slut.”

With one hand pressing down on your back to hold you in place, the other runs over your ass carefully before winding back and delivering a hard slap. It’s hard and strong, making your ears ring briefly and you cry out softly, burning your head in the pillow. Another hand hits you, and you recognise the soothing touches that come after as Mingi — whenever your boyfriend spanks you, he likes to rub circles on the spot he’d struck to massage in the pain. You don’t know if he even knows he does it, but it’s a sweet quirk that reminds you that your loving, adoring boyfriend is still here. “Don’t hide your face, baby,” he says. “That’s why we put the mirror there. We want to see your pretty reactions at all times.”

You nod, lifting your head up and whispering an apology. The men smile, each stroking one of your ass cheeks soothingly. “Good girl,” Yunho says. “I don’t want to have to punish you when we’re having so much fun.”

Your mouth opens wordlessly and you stare at Yunho, confused, scared and turned on. “P…punish?” You ask quietly.

Yunho smiles, chuckling softly as he gently pats the red mark on your ass where he’d struck you. “I guess we never talked about that, did we? I like the girls I fuck to be obedient, and I’m willing to make sure they are myself.”

“With permission, of course,” Mingi quickly interjects before you can worry.

“Of course,” Yunho agrees. “I’ve never punished anyone who wasn’t begging me to correct their behaviour.”

“Oh,” you say. Your brain is brimming now with thoughts of Yunho punishing you. You wonder what he’d do; maybe he’d go the classic route and spank you to tears. Or maybe he’d force orgasm after orgasm out of you like he’d told you he likes to do, or not let you come at all. As much as you want to find out what he’d do, to hear him call you bad girl and tell you how you deserve to be punished, you can push those buttons another time. For now, all you can think about is that massive dick finally fucking you. “I’ll be good,” you whisper.

Yunho hums. You feel his hand move from your ass down to your naked pussy. His touches against it are feather-light, barely noticeable if they weren’t in such a sensitive place and from someone you’re so desperate for. His other hand, still on your back, presses down further as you start to squirm. “Remember what I said, baby,” he says as he presses a finger into you. “Be good and stay still.”

You nod, but as he adds a second and third finger you cry out and instinctively reach your arms back to touch him. He tuts, grabbing your arms and holding them down easily against your back with one hand. “I said stay still,” he chides. “Last warning, baby.”

You nod, whispering an apology which he accepts with a nod. The whole time Mingi’s been watching you, slowly stroking his cock as the sight of his girlfriend being used by his friend. Yunho notices and throws the other man a smile. “Why don’t you go fuck her mouth, Mingi?” He suggests. “Seems filling up one hole isn’t enough to keep her obedient.”

“Good idea,” Mingi smirks. He rounds the bed to stand in front of you, feeding his twitching cock into your mouth. He turns around, seeing your view of yourself blocked and grins. “So much for the mirror,” he laughs.

“Mm, so much for the mirror,” Yunho agrees. “Next time I’ll punish her for moving so much that we have to block it. But right now I just wanna fuck her.”

Mingi starts to thrust lazily into your mouth, gripping your hair like he did before. It feels incredible but you can barely focus on it. You’re desperate for Yunho now. Yunho pulls his fingers out, pushing your dress back a little further. “Hold her arms for me, Mingi,” he says. “I want all the leverage I can get.”

Mingi nods and reaches his hands forwards to hold your arms down against your back where they’d been before. Without a hand in your hair to force you down on him himself, he speed ups his thrusts, getting stronger and more merciless. You take it diligently, choking and spitting on it like the good girl you are.

When Yunho’s cock finally starts pushing into you, you falter slightly, involuntarily jolting forward into Mingi and forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. It doesn’t last long before Yunho grabs your hips, yanking you back into him. He looked big and felt bigger in your mouth but this is something else entirely. It feels like having your virginity taken all over again, tiny hole stretched by an impossibly big and merciless dick. When he finally gets all the way in your scream around Mingi’s cock. You start to thrash but their grip on you is iron, holding you in place and completely at their mercy.

Yunho gives you a few seconds before he starts to move, slowly at first then faster and faster until he’s fucking into you relentlessly. You feel completely powerless, used in two holes and held down by strong hands who want nothing but to use you for their pleasure.

The entire bed is shaking from Yunho’s hard pounds and Mingi’s relentless thrusts in your mouth. While he fucks you Yunho delivers endless slaps to your ass and thighs and you’re sure your skin will be red and burning by the time he’s done with you. They’re both talking to you but you can barely hear them. All you can focus on is the feeling of being fucked without mercy by two of the largest cocks you’ve ever seen. You’re screaming without a break now, throat hoarse but you love it, you could live off this feeling for the rest of your life.

Mingi comes first; he’s always extra sensitive to your mouth. He’s not fast by any means but something about the way you suck him, the way you let him abuse your throat without a break, makes it hard for him to control himself. His load is massive, even bigger than usual, but you swallow every drop just like you’re ordered to. He keeps his cock, now soft, in your mouth, letting you suck at it for comfort while Yunho practically splits you open. With the way you’re screaming his cock also serves as a gag, keeping you marginally quieter so as to avoid any complaints from neighbours. The thought of it, having a soft cock in your mouth to gag your screams while another man fucks you, is so hot it brings you closer to your own climax.

Yunho lasts a little longer but you feel his orgasm coming, building up as his thrusts get harder and faster and his moans get louder until he’s yelling. With a final shout he releases inside you, thrusting a few times to empty himself completely. While he does so he reaches to rub your clit, wet fingers making it even more sensitive. When your orgasm finally hits, stronger and more overwhelming than ever before, he talks you through it but you’re so far out of it that you can’t quite decipher what he’s saying.

When he finally pulls out, releasing his iron grip on your hips, you collapse instantly, utterly exhausted. Mingi quickly takes you into his arms, holding your head against his chest and stroking your sweat-soaked hair. Yunho sits beside you, rubbing your legs and pressing soft kisses all over your body.

“You did so well,” Yunho says. “That was the most fun I’ve had doing this.”

You sniffle slightly and stare up at him. The dark, feral gleam in his eye is gone and his face is back to the kind, considerate Yunho you’ve known for a while. “Really?” You ask.

He chuckles, nodding slightly. “Really,” he confirms. “If you both want it, I’d love to do this again. Make it a regular thing, even. You’re too good to just leave it at this.”

You giggle, blushing slightly and your boyfriend laughs, staring down at you fondly. You feel the vibrations of the laughter in his chest and it comforts you. You sigh happily, nuzzling into him as he caresses you, gently soothing you down from your high.

“Should I go get some snacks for her?” Yunho asks.

Mingi hums, nodding. “There’s some fruit on the table you can cut up for her. She’ll need some water too.”

Yunho nods. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out, softly closing the door behind him. Mingi lifts your chin to press a soft, loving kiss to your lips. “My beautiful baby,” he smiles.

You smile back, your heart warm. “My Mingi.”

By the time Yunho returns you’ve fallen asleep in Mingi’s arms, lulled to sleep by his soft praises as he rocked you. Telling Mingi to make sure you eat it once you’re up, Yunho places the fruit on the nightstand and kisses your hand one last time before leaving.

When you check your phone a few hours later, once you’re fully down from your high, you see a new message lighting up your screen.

yunho: Good girl.

—————

hope you liked this! this is the longest smut ive written so far so please let me know your thoughts on it as i’ve put quite a bit of time into making it hot for u. so tell me what you think!! i get very motivated to write more when i get feedback or comments:) i’m getting to other requests now and the request box is still OPEN!! love🖤🖤

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT doing your makeup

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘i love all your svt reactions!! could i request a fun one where svt gets asked to put makeup on their partner? who do you think would take it seriously and do extremely well? who wouldnt even know what half of the items are? i think the members would also find it fun to do hahahah’

Cannot help but do badly - Seungcheol, Jun, Woozi, Vernon

He really does his best when you ask, but he would prefer not to wear much for himself, so he’s not particularly skilled. You can tell that he’s not happy with anything that he does because he’s grimacing, particularly when he gets to the eye makeup, where the finer details matter. But he’d never turn down the opportunity to do something with you, even if he’s totally deflated when he’s done. He’ll sigh deeply and apologize while handing you the mirror. It’s… not great. But it’s cute that he tried. He can’t wait to help you clean it off, though, ready with the makeup remover and face wash. 

Purposefully makes you look like a clown - Jeonghan, DK, Chan

You feel like things are going well until he spends way too much time on the blush. Then you get a glimpse of the colors that he uses on your eyes, and you kind of wonder why you even have them because they don’t compliment you in the least. He’ll slyly grin when he announces that he’s done, presenting you with a mirror. Will absolutely snap a picture before you can stop him, giving you a big smooch on your lips that are painted in a color that does not work for you. When you glare and tell him you regret asking for this, he’ll relent, helping you clean it all off. I’m so sorry; he’ll never delete that picture. He has backups of it. 

Really tries and does decently - Hoshi, Wonwoo, Seungkwan

The epitome of focus. Picture them being inches from your face for the little details, tongue poking out in concentration. Then, he’ll pull back to look at his work and go back to perfect it. He gets the concept of all of the products and figures out how to use them relatively quickly. Does a little bit at a time to not overdo it. He agreed to this because he likes being close to you and spending time with you. But if you look pleasantly surprised by how great he did, he’ll scoff and say that he can’t believe you doubted him. 

Better at it than you could ever be - Joshua, Mingyu, Minghao

Are you kidding? You don’t do your own makeup half the time, anyway. If you grumble about doing it when you guys are getting ready to go out, he’ll sit you on the counter and do it for you from start to finish. If your eye makeup isn’t blending just right or your eyeliner is uneven, he simply takes the brush or the pen from you to help you with it. He does it with such a quick and careful precision that puts your own skills to shame. And throughout the day, if he notices something is smudged, he’ll delicately fix it for you. (As someone who loves the look of makeup but hates putting it on, this would be a dream.)

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Tim Drake as a low key gamer boyfriend

Playing a slice of life game like Stardew Valley together:

He is all about optimisation over aesthetics. Doesn’t fully comprehend why you’d want to spend a day talking to villagers and looking for collectibles over grinding for ore in the mines.

“But think about it babe, once we get enough iron ores for sprinklers, our crops will automatically be watered and we can use our energy to do other things!”

Sucks at the fishing mini game, even after he got the most expensive finishing rod and special bait. He can get very sulky about it but immediately pipes up when you offer to help.

“Oh my god! Can’t believe you caught the legendary fish! You’re amazing at this” he cheers as he envelopes you in a tight hug “Gonna buy a fish tank and add the lil guy to it to commemorate this moment”

Loves playing the multi-player version with you, will happily forgo his efficiency maximisation driven gameplay to goof around with you. Always eager find you rare items and tries his best to bring out his creative side.

“So I had a go at decorating the house. Naturally I wanted to furniture to be colour coordinated, so I referred to the colour wheel to determine a complimentary colour palette and then- wait I’m rambling about an unnecessarily niche aspect again aren’t I?” He’s taken by surprise when you peck his cheek in response, offering him a bright smile “I love when you ramble about unnecessarily niche topics, please go on". 

He flushes bright red in response, mentally cheering about how lucky he is that his partner is always so encouraging and excited about his random deep dives.

Playing Minecraft together:

Will fiercely protect you from creepers and zombies but also kills you the moment you spawn for a laugh. 

Is very invested in building houses, has watched several tutorials on how to make cool builds (will not admit to this if asked). 

“Babe check out the roof on this build, I’ve used a different style of tiered layering, it an interesting technique you see…” 

Always ensures you’re topped up on resources. Brings back lil flowers when he goes off to scope out a new area. Is always excited for you to try out new things in the game.

“Oh my god! Babe look we've hit jackpot and found a ton of diamond- What? Oh no you should be the one to mine it! You’re gonna make your first diamond pickaxe!”

Playing Sims 4 together:

For whatever reason, his skill with Minecraft house builds simply does not translate into Sims gameplay. He cannot construct a decent roof to save his life.

“What do you mean I’ve half assed the roof? No babe come on, it’s a modern build. I made it flat on purpose. Don’t you see the vision??” You raise an eyebrow in response, he pauses for a beat before relenting “Alright fine it’s pretty shit, roofs are hard okay!” 

Tries really hard to succeed at the Rags to Riches storyline before inevitably giving up and using the 50k motherlode cheat.

“Why does my sim have a bored moodlet after making 3 paintings? He’s gotta stay inspired if we wanna make any money!”

Gets way to caught up in the ‘create a sim’ mode

“What do you mean I’m taking too long? I’ve gotta have at least 3 everyday outfits sorted for my sim”

Loves pets in the Sims, spends way too much time cooing at puppies and kittens 

“Oh my god look, this cat is named Mayor Whiskers! He’s the Mayor of this town, we’ve gotta make a good impression”

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

I think the funniest Hazbin Hotel crack theory headcannon is that Husk has the MOST absolute rizz out of everyone. Like he was highkey a fuck boi when he was alive and has been married and divorced at least 3 times and would have probably been more if marrying men were legal back in the day. You need a lot of suaveness and charm to get away with swindling people for a living and NOT die by pissing off the wrong person. Now that he's dead, old, and at rock fucking bottom he doesn't really care about it anymore but he still has that gentlemanly smoothness about him without even trying. Especially now that he just doesn't give a fuck about anything anymore he's extremely blunt and forward about what he thinks about people. Like he's not even trying to charm them, its just his honest opinion.

Husk: You're far to kind for this world, princess. But perhaps that also makes you stronger than the rest of us too; Finding reason to be kind to people without anything in return. I hope you never lose that softness in your heart.

Charlie, on the verge of tears: T-thanks you 💕

Husk: Look all I'm saying is that if Heaven wants to lose their best warrior because she's an ACTUAL angel with good morals unlike the monsters they have amongst their ranks, then its no skin off our backs. Bastards don't deserve you anyways Vaggie.

Vaggie, blushing as she fiddles with the hem of her skirt: Uh, yeah...thanks...😳

Husk: I mean, I wasn't all that surprised that you didn't "look" the part of the Devil. Partly because Charlie looks the way she looks and she's cute as a button. But also the books back on Earth said you were God's most perfect angel and I mean, like, *shrugs* they weren't wrong.

Lucifer, giggling like an awkward school girl: Ahaha, you're sooo funny 🫠💕

Husk: Look, you're a decent guy: you're smart, funny in that goofy charming sort of way, and pretty decent in the looks department by sinner standards. Plus if the rumors are true after that night in the club, you're not bad in the sack either. 😉

Sir Pentious, fan himself like a victorian lady: Oh my 😳

Husk, pissed: I swear if i wasn't on your damn leash I'd rip out your throat with my bare fucking teeth so you can finally shut the fuck up.

Alastor, desperately pretending that unhinged comment didn't make him internally swoon: My, my Husker, if you wanted a raise, all you had to do was ask~ 😃

Husk: You look good like this.

Angel, flirty: Like what? I look good every day Suga~

Husk, soft and genuine: Happy....when you're happy, when you're enjoying yourself, you have this glow about you.

Angel, breathless: Glow?

Husk, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck: Ha, kinda cheesy, but that's the best way I can describe it.

Angel: 😳🥺💕

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Kinktober 2024

Day 4: Mirror Sex

Kim Mingyu x Reader Word Count: 1,089 THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI!!! Warnings: Sort of soft dom!Mingyu, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, talk of insecurities and self-doubt. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know! A/N: If you would like to be added to my Kinktober taglist, you can send an ask, send a dm, or comment on any of my Kinktober-related posts with the username that you'd like tagged. Happy reading!

Fic is under the cut.

You had no idea what Kim Mingyu saw in you. You had met some of the women he previously associated himself with, and they were gorgeous. He had been with models, actresses, and even other idols before the two of you started seeing each other. You hated to admit this but seeing him with idols that he used to date or hook up with made you feel really insecure, to say the least. You thought that you were doing a decent job of hiding your insecurities from him, but he knew you better than you realized.

Mingyu thought that you were one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. He told you how beautiful you were all the time, but you usually dismissed it as him just being nice. So, he started to think about ways that he could get you to see yourself the way that he did. As he considered a few options, an idea came to mind. It was an idea that he wasn’t sure you would be up for, but it was still worth a shot.

The night started like any other. Mingyu picked you up, and you got dinner at your favorite restaurant. After, he took you home. It didn’t take long after that for his hands to find their way to your ass while he kissed you. Not that you were complaining, of course. Mingyu had made it abundantly clear from the way he spoke to you on the drive home what his intentions were for the night. The part that differed from your expectations, however, was being dragged to your bathroom instead of your bedroom when he pulled away from the kiss.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Well, I had an idea for something different we could try tonight.”

“What is it?”

“Me fucking you in front of the mirror.”

You thought for a moment before you nodded and said, “Ok, but why?”

“What do you mean?’

“Why are we doing this, Mingyu?”

“We are doing this so you can see how sexy you are,” he said matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not.”

“Yes you are. And if you argue with me about it, I’m going home. Got it?”

“Got it,” you mumbled. You were nervous about seeing yourself in such a vulnerable state, but your desire to get fucked outweighed your desire to protest the mirror.

“Bend over, angel.”

You did as you were told, and Mingyu pulled up your dress just enough to rip your panties off. The next thing you knew, his pants and boxers were on the floor, and you could feel his tip poking at your entrance. Before anything else happened, he said, “Are you sure you’re ok with this?”

“I’m sure. I trust you.”

That was all Mingyu needed to hear to slowly push his hips forward. When he finally felt you, he let out a low moan that drove you crazy. While initially you had been hesitant, you had to admit that you liked being able to see his face in the mirror. The expression on his face as he entered you turned you on more than you expected it to. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open like he was still surprised at how good you felt.

Mingyu gave you a moment to adjust, then he started to fuck you. As he did, he opened his eyes just enough to see you in the mirror. When he saw how fucked-out you already looked, he chastised himself for not having this idea sooner. He loved fucking you from behind, but he also loved seeing your face when he fucked you. Bending you over your bathroom sink and fucking you in front of a mirror gave him the best of both worlds. If the look on your face and the noises leaving your mouth were any indication, you were enjoying yourself quite a bit too.

Just when you thought that the pleasure you were feeling couldn’t get any more intense, Mingyu reached one of his hands around you to rub your clit. The combined stimulation was almost too much, but you loved it. With a moan that was almost loud enough to be a scream, you said, “Harder, please.”

Mingyu didn’t need to be told twice. He snapped his hips forward faster than he had been, while keeping the pressure applied to your clit consistent. You felt like you were on cloud nine, and you never wanted it to end. As Mingyu fucked you, you occasionally looked up at the mirror. His face as he lost himself in pleasure was a sight that you wanted to see every night, and you hoped that he felt the same about you.

It didn’t take much longer for Mingyu to feel his orgasm approaching. He warned you that he was close, but he didn’t have time to pull out like he typically would have. So, with a loud moan, he released inside of you. You should have been concerned, but in the moment you couldn’t have cared less. In fact, it only heightened the pleasure you were feeling, and you felt your own orgasm hit you shortly after. The boost to Mingyu’s ego when you screamed his name as you came was astronomical.

The two of you caught your breath, and Mingyu quickly turned you around to kiss you. This kiss felt different, though. Typically, when he kissed you, it was nothing more than an act of foreplay. You didn’t really mind that, but you had to admit that you preferred the way he was kissing you now. It was a kiss that was full of love, and you felt like you were in heaven.

When Mingyu pulled away, he said, “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?” You nodded, and he smiled. Then the two of you cleaned yourselves up and got into bed together. Once you were both settled, he asked, “What if we were more than fuck buddies?”

“Do you mean like a couple?”

“Yeah. What do you think about that?”

“I think that sounds lovely.”

He smiled again, and you kissed him like you would never see him again, excited to start a new chapter of your relationship. Then the two of you spent the rest of the night cuddling in bed and talking about whatever came to mind until sleep overtook you. You had to admit that while you were skeptical at first, you did enjoy Mingyu’s new idea. Especially since it led to the two of you finally becoming a couple.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to see what else I've written so far and the rest of what's planned, you can find my Kinktober masterlist here. If you'd like to read one of my non-Kinktober works, you can find my general masterlist here. If you'd like to see what I'm going to be working on once Kinktober is over, you can find my upcoming works here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading, happy spooky season!

[penkura]

Hi! I'm currently on my traffy brain rot-

May I request a law x Reader but reader has a tendency of always wearing headphones and/or play music on full blast because she can't stand silence too much. I mean I can't stand silence because you don't know what's in a specific space and silence just means something negative in me lmao.

Also, I listen to music mostly because I feel/express emotions more freely than without music because I find emotions hard to feel/express. It's alright if you don't add this to reader but I hope this helps somewhat explaining their love for blasting music.

Hello!! Traffy brain rot is SO REAL GOSH. It just comes randomly and sticks for months at a time good lord.

I also have headphones on most of the time, it's how I focus and sometimes is the only way I can get any work done, I hate the silence, there's always something on my TV or in my ears.

I hope you enjoy!!

Law knows when you’ve taken over his office, it’s the only time there’s ever music blasting from a radio snail or whatever little device it was you picked up on an island before. He doesn’t mind it per say, only because you have decent music tastes and it’s normally something he can tolerate, he doesn’t mind those moments when you’re both in there. He’ll usually be reviewing charts or the supplies list before your next docking, while you’d be writing up reports he’s asked for, it’s always comfortable even with music blaring as you work.

This time, your music isn’t playing out loud, you’ve got your headphones on and it makes Law wonder if something might be wrong today. You only really have your headphones on if you need to be left completely alone, even then you don’t take over his office but stay in your room or the common area, not wanting to feel like a bother towards your captain/boyfriend. He’d never call you a bother, Law loved you too much to ever think that. He doesn’t mind when you take over his office or bedroom honestly, anything for you to feel safe and comfortable, he’s willing to allow.

It only really becomes a problem when you don’t hear him speaking to you. A few times you’ve left your headphones on during crew meetings and he’s had to stop and make sure you’re listening, making you hand them over until he was done. At least it meant you weren’t in silence, not with your crewmates talking to and whispering with you. Your headphones aren’t on all the time, only when it’s too quiet, and you can’t stand the silence anymore.

And then, the other time it’s a slight problem, is when he needs to check in with you on your reports or anything else, and you don’t hear him.

“Hey, hey.” You jump when Law taps your shoulder, surprising him when you turn your head quickly, wide eyed when you know he’s done this before to get your attention. Taking your headphones off, you ask him what he needs and he points at the report on your desk. “Have you finished that yet?”

“Oh, shaking your head, you turn back to it and slip your headphones back on, “Almost, just a few more minutes, okay?”

Nodding, Law almost leaves you alone to finish, before putting his hand on yours, making you stop your music again as you give him a questioning look.

“What are you listening to?”

“Mm, it’s Uta’s new song. It’s really catchy, you wanna hear it?”

“No, I’m fine,” you shrug and go back to work, while Law puts an arm around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head, “Just making sure you are too.”

[amazinglyegg]

Due to not being able to find a decent reference for Danse's room, I used this video to sketch out a floor plan!!

Along with references for what all the furniture looks like:

Details and rambling below the cut!

General notes:

The only time we see his room is after Blind Betrayal. I wonder if he brought anything from his room with him, despite leaving the duffle bag near the door?

He has a ton of storage space. Like, a lot. He doesn't even have a footlocker at the end of his bed it's just an entire metal box.

Despite that, he has nowhere to sit. Not even his desk has a chair.

Also he has a rug between his bed and his big drawer! Cute!

Pet food bowl near his door with fresh bloatfly meat in it. Not only does he manually open the door for Emmett to enter and leave (no cat door), but Emmett visits often enough that he goes out of his way to give him a bowl of fresh food! Does Quinlan even feed him!?

Has a lot of random cardboard boxes filled with papers and stuff on his floor. Given that the filing cabinet is for files, I wonder if these are books or journals?

Has a plain old bed with no pillows or blankets. Like most beds, this is probably done for game reasons (like animations or clipping) instead of canon reasons. At least I HOPE he sleeps with a blanket!!

On top of his safe is three dog food cans, maybe supposed to represent cat food. Also has a can of cram on his big drawer. I wonder if he stores more food in there!

The flag is actually a smaller one, but I couldn't find the exact model on the wiki. I find it interesting that he has a pole flag instead of a regular wall one. It just looks so sad :(

Has a lot of small blue and wood boxes around his room that I didn't include in the floor plan, they're empty I'm pretty sure

I didn't realize people outside of middle school used lockers, especially SIX of them. What do you even store in lockers?? Can't be clothes since they have multiple segments, hung clothes wouldn't fit and folded clothes would probably fall out.

No real personal stuff like holotapes or journal entries. I would have expected something unique! He also has no decorations other than that one sad droopy flag, but I guess it'd be hard to hang up paintings when the walls are made of metal. Can't just hammer a nail into that!

As a note, I think items within storage containers are randomized, so I didn't bother looking at them while making this.

Desk and filing cabinet:

Whisky and vodka bottles, no shot glass in sight. He is chugging those straight from the bottle. Not as many bottles as Maxson, at least!

Also an entire carton of cigarettes and an ashtray. He canonically smokes and doesn't even bother going outside to do it, his room must reek of cigarettes.

A food tray and mug, which is... interesting? Does he often eat alone in his room?

Filing cabinet for files, probably does paperwork at this desk as well.

Drawers:

Has like, three wrenches, as well as a tool box. This must be his workshop!

A lunch pail and a nuka cola. This table is right next to his desk so it makes sense he has food and drinks here. Surprised there's no water!

Speaking of the table... it's an institute table. Probably just done for aesthetic purposes, but I found that interesting

Let me know if you have any opinions, headcanons, or things I missed!

[belphies-cowgirl]

little things they do for you

word count: 900+

content warning: mentions of body image (if I am missing anything please let me know and I will add it!)

Lucifer

invites you into his study whenever he gets a new record. he prefers listening to it with you in his arms. also, he'll play the piano for you if you ask him.

will praise you for minor or major accomplishments. even if you don't think something deserves praise he gives it to you anyways. he's so proud of his human. 

wakes you up gently by rubbing your back or your shoulder. sometimes if you've stayed up late studying or working he peppers your face with gentle kisses (he will drag you out of bed lovingly if he needs to)

Mammon

will hype you up and be your partner in crime. will indulge in creating chaos or doing something stupid with you. you have his full support and he'd do anything for you, even if it results in him getting strung up by Lucifer. he'll happily take the blame and punishments for you. 

will let you have control over the radio and heat/ac settings in his car. will let you put your feet up on the dashboard too. he bought a car charger for you in case you forget to bring yours and he'll order for you in the drive-thru (has what you want memorized, but still asks if you want something else) 

helps you with chores. does laundry with you and carries your laundry basket (cleans out the lint trap for you too) does the dishes with you, he washes while you dry or vice versa. moves furniture for you while you vacuum (let him woo you by showing off his strength) want to rearrange your room at 3 am? he'll help you. 

Levi

if you're into cosplay he'll make outfits for you. he'll make sure it fits perfectly and has some wiggle room for comfort.

will let you sit on his lap and help you get through hard levels or help you find new areas and items. will guide your hand with his while doing so and praise you. 

if you're anxious about something he'll try anything to ease some of your anxiety. he'll give your hand reassuring squeezes or talk you through a breathing exercise or simply listen to you talk about what's making you anxious. he'll look up more ways to deal with anxiety and practice them with you. 

Satan

texts you quotes from books or poems that remind him of you or when he wants to be romantic. he sometimes takes inspiration from romance novels when planning a date. also surprises you with flowers for no reason. 

will help you study or write an essay. teaches you how to color code, organize, find proper resources, and reassures you that you're doing a good job. he'll be patient and adapt his techniques to any learning style you prefer. 

will spend hours with you in a bookstore, and carry any books you want to buy. if you like to spend a decent amount of time in certain genre aisles, he'll grab books you can't reach or just be content standing near you while you look through the books. 

Asmo

want an outfit that didn't come in your size or was sold out? he'll somehow get it for you or make one for you. need some alterations done? say less. see something you like but you're low on funds? say less. 

have any pain, discomfort, or trouble relaxing? he's got heating pads, pain relievers, an aroma diffuser, bath salts, anything you can think of for pain relief or relaxation. he also gives really good massages. 

will help you with any insecurities you may have. reassuring words, compliments, and sticky notes on any mirrors to remind you that you're beautiful and are worthy of so much more than you think you deserve. will buy you products that help enhance your natural beauty. he'll also help you take care of yourself with little reminders or help you establish and keep up with a daily routine.

Beel

lets you wear his clothes if you're having one of those days where you just want to hide your body or just want to feel super comfy and smell like him.

he reminds you to eat every day. he understands if it's hard sometimes for you to eat at least 3 meals a day or eat when you're not feeling well. will ask if you'd like some of his food or if he can make you anything. will also let you steal food off his plate. 

will support you and keep you motivated if you want to work out. he'll get on the treadmill next to you or go for a walk with you. anything you want to do he'll do it with you. shares his water bottle with you if yours is empty. will make smoothies, protein shakes, or trail mix with you. he'll encourage body positivity, but won't cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. 

Belphie

gives you space and understands if you don't want to take a nap with him or cuddle. will offer to let you borrow one of his blankets or pillows to sleep with instead.

will comfort you if you have nightmares or trouble sleeping. don't feel secure after a nightmare? he'll hold you close or act like a weighted blanket for you. 

lets you kick him in your sleep and he'll adapt to any of your sleeping positions. want to sleep like a starfish with one leg up on the wall? that's fine, he'll make room for you and find a different way to cuddle.

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own! 

[welcometohellfilm]

Hi! I recently saw W2H2 part 1 and I must say it’s pretty amazing! Even better then the first one (which I loved btw), I know you anticipated that it wouldn’t have been full done, but I still wished the animation and the coloring were completed, like the first short. Nevertheless It has its charm anyway so good job, still amazing as always ! I just wanted to ask a few questions about Mephistopheles:

1) Is Mephistopheles actually capable of being evil and doing evil things as well ? Is he the type of guy that is usually pretty chill but can get REALLY angry if you piss him off? At the end of the first act, he said to Sock that he would fired him if he didn’t complete the job… did he mean literally “to fire him” (like burn or hurt him), or just meant “fired from the job” without causing him any harm? I am very curious about this character, I find him pretty charming and interesting! (I also love his character design)

2) How long will it be before the second and third parts of W2H2 release more or less (Months, years…)? And how long each part will be? Don’t wanna put preassure on you ofc , I’m just curious but I will be patient if that’s the case!

Thank you for this amazing little cartoon! I really love the plot and the characters and I look foward to see more! I hope you’ll reply soon and thank u again <33 (also sorry for my bad english but I am Italian eheh)

haha... yeah I'm getting that comment from a lot of people. But idk, when I look at the first short it looks pretty incomplete to me! Like to me, I think having better animation and less color is a decent trade-off, but I guess for a lot of people the color really did a lot of heavy-lifting. Anyway, I know it's a little disappointing, but my options were "call it good enough and post it", or "drive myself crazy working on it until I die", I know that sounds dramatic, and maybe I could've forced myself to finish at least throwing color on it, but I don't know, I didn't want to start resenting the thing I'm supposed to be passionate about. I kinda put myself between a rock and a hard place, didn't I? Sorry for the rant! I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway, haha. UHHH on to questions! 1. Mephistopheles is complicated. Or at least, I think he is, and I'm trying to figure out what that balance is. (I have an entire wordpad file full of notes/thoughts on Mephistopheles from one of my friends who's given a surprising amount of thought to the morality of the character that I'm gonna have to reference moving forward, haha). But as for my original thoughts on the character--- I don't consider him evil, but I think he's capable of doing things we would call 'evil', just like any human is. And like humans, he can be motivated by flawed, negative thoughts and feelings; spite, revenge, jealousy, whatever. But unlike humans he exists outside of space and time, and he's not a human himself, so his perception of morality is just different. The "you're fired" comment is meant to be a little confusing... like, you come to expect these stupid hell jokes from him, but then he clarifies "that wasn't a pun". And he's the devil, so maybe he's not joking. He COULD condemn Sock to hell. So that's the stakes of the story! If Meph is serious, Sock could be in a lot of trouble. We're not sure exactly how lenient he's going to be, or how trust-worthy he is. He's the devil! Toying with people is kind of his whole thing! haha. 2. It's not gonna' be another 10 years, that's for sure!!! Most of Part 2 is already rough animated (at least as much as Part 1 has been). There's still... one or two scenes that need more animation, and pretty much every shot of Shadow!Jonathan still needs to be done. It also needs more backgrounds, but there's FEWER backgrounds in Part 2 (Hell is just a re-usable Shadow-Realmy-y void), and a lot of the stuff from Jonathan's house can be re-used with different lighting. I'll have a better idea of the timeline once I sit down and crack it open again... and it's about to get kind of busy with the holidays and all, but it should be finished some time next year! Hopefully in the first half of 2025! I'll try to keep everyone posted. Anyway thanks for your questions! Hope this helped!