#turns out I have a type and it's robots

[bottle-of-harpoons]

Sometimes when I'm stressed, I make cringe aroace edits of my favourite Sonic characters.

This is my therapy.

(I do not own any of the art. All of these were taken from the comics or games)

[bloominglegumes]

i love normal guys doomed by the narrative

[23z567]

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

D3-C1

with sardines

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[theskoomacat]

M*uthwashing was good, the only things i didn't enjoy lie in the area of writing (but so do some things i enjoyed the most!) - but I expected more from it? kinda?

[mechahero]

//some screenshots from the game i was playing earlier

[rockmonopoly]

AT MY FUCKING LIMIT!!

[lime1991]

embarrassingly, reading moon knight fanfic gave me an oc idea

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Breaking the Fourth Wall

Only, he’s not. He’s talking to the Divine Twitch Chat, but just to be a little shit, he’ll talk to them on some Dora type of nonsense. They eat it up cause they don’t know what Dora is. They’re just happy they get to interact with the stream.

A great example of this was when Billy got kidnapped by Sivana for the 50 million time. He got out of his binds, transformed into Marvel, busted through the doors and knocked out some guards. He was then met with a decision. He could either go left or right. Right lead somewhere unknown, and left lead to an exit. Time to consult the chat!

Marvel: *talking in Dora/Amanda the Adventure voice* “Hmm… What do you think?” *Turns to a random direction as if he’s talking to someone* “Should we go left or right?”

Solomon: “I believe it would be wise to go left, Billy-”

Heracles and Achilles: “RIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

Atlas: “No, stupidheads. That’s probably gonna lead him to robots.”

Mercury: “That’s exactly why we should go.”

Zeus: “I agree with Hermes.” *just wants to spite Atlas*

Marvel: “The votes are in! It looks like we’re going… right!” *starts walking right*

He in fact did run into a bunch of robots. But hey, at least he found Sivana. Back to jail he goes.

Also, someone recovered this footage from a security camera and they saw Marvel ask the question and just stand still in complete silence for a solid minute before saying the thing about the votes. They posted this online and he got called a schizo like twenty times over. Marvel was later brought in so Black Canary could have a little session with him.

Marvel: “Ms. Canary, I’m not crazy I swear.”

Black Canary: “Cap, I’m not saying that, but well, this footage suggests that you might have some… problems.”

Marvel: “But I don’t. Pinky promise. I was just talking to the gods in my head. That’s it.”

Black Canary: “Mhm. Mhm. I see. I see.” *scribbles down on notepad*

Marvel: *concerned* “What’re you writing down?”

Then, there was another incident where some guy tried robbing an old, homeless man that Billy knew. Marvel took him up to a building and let him dangle by his leg off the side of it. What could he say, the old man gave him a buck anytime he could. Billy’s loyal like that.

Marvel: *does the Dora/Amanda voice again* “Hmm… It seems we’re stuck with a decision.”

Heracles: “He’s doing the voice! He’s doing the voice!”

Marvel: “What do you think we should do?” *turns to no one again* “Should we drop him?”

Robber: “WHAT?” *stops flailing around*

Marvel: “Or should we turn him into the police?”

Zeus: “DROP HIM.”

Solomon: “Do NOT do that, Billy.”

Atlas: “I agree, drop him.”

Achilles: “Drop.”

Mercury: “Ooh! Ooh! Drop him, then catch him just when he’s about to hit the ground.”

Heracles: “I second that.”

Marvel: “Just kidding! This isn’t up for vote. Alley-oop!” *slings robber over his shoulder and flies to a police station*

Gods: “BOOOOOOOOOO”

The police report for this got leaked and now the residents of Fawcett got to know their lovable teddy bear hero dangled a man off the side of a building. Also, this is a recent thing by the way. Billy only started doing this about a couple weeks ago so all of the Fawcett citizens are so concerned because he never used to do this before. They’re all like, oh my God, is Cap going crazy? Point is, they’re worried.

One of their ways of showing they care that’s still fresh on Billy’s mind is when he was taking a dealer to the police station and the man offered him some of his stash because and he quotes:

Dealer: “Hey, man, you saved my kid brother from getting kidnapped. You’re good in my book. You gotta help people out especially if they help you.”

This stunned Billy a little if he was honest. He didn’t know if he should’ve been touched or offended. He was offered drugs, but I was as a token of appreciation. He’ll go with a little bit of both instead.

[pathologicalreid]

not that kind of movie | S.R.

movie night takes an interesting turn - for the better, definitely

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: the movie in question is metropolis, fingering, soft dom!spencer, i really don't know that there's anything else, kissing, they probably fucked after this, very slightly proofread, if this is incoherent let's just pretend it is. word count: 1.45k a/n: just a fun little fic i typed out tonight. also chip taylor gif spotted. i'm so tired i have nothing else to say for myself.

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, you were struggling to keep your eyes open during the movie.

As a result of a very intense rock, paper, scissors game, Spencer had been the one to choose the movie that you watched tonight. The movie he had chosen just so happened to be in a foreign language – German – that your boyfriend was attempting to learn. Your lack of German comprehension combined with the black-and-white film put you in a rough spot, you were in serious danger of falling asleep on the couch.

Spencer wouldn’t hold it against you if you did happen to drift off, but it felt rude. He never fell asleep during any of your film selections, and just because you didn’t understand the content didn’t mean you couldn’t respect the cinematography of the old-timey dystopian. “Are you falling asleep?” He whispered, adjusting the blanket that had been tossed over the two of you so that you were fully covered.

Shaking your head stubbornly, “No, ‘m watching the movie,” you insisted, prying your eyes open to focus on the screen in front of you and trying to figure out who was Freder and who was Joh.

“Good, keep watching,” Spencer said softly before pulling at your legs, leaving them draped across his lap as his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked over at you and in the dark of the living room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the flush of your cheeks. “Watch the movie,” he murmured, moving to trail his fingers up your thigh.

Your breathing hitched as his hand stopped, and as he started to massage the inner part of your thigh, you let your head fall to the side. “You’re distracting me,” you protested, smiling despite yourself while his fingers moved closer and closer to your core.

He hummed in response, “I thought this could help you stay awake,” he offered knowingly.

“Can’t hurt to try,” you concurred happily, extremely content with the turn of events that your movie night had taken – even if Metropolis wasn’t that kind of movie. You sighed as Spencer’s fingers deftly nudged your shorts to the side, using his hand to rub you over the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

In your periphery, you watched Spencer turn his attention back to the movie, his lips moving as his brain translated the words as they came from the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at the television, your brain was fuzzier than ever, but at least now you were enjoying yourself, “Spence,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

To your chagrin, his movements slowed, “Shh, watch the movie,” he told you, “You have to pay attention, or I’ll stop.”

You groaned before turning your head, watching the fuzzy black and white screen as robots started to take over and you realized you had no idea what the plot of this film was, “Please don’t stop,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers pushed your panties off to the side. You considered offering to take your shorts and underwear off, but you were too afraid of him stopping to even bring it up.

The volume of the movie was barely loud enough to cover up the soft, breathy noises that came from you as Spencer trailed his index finger up your slit before settling his hand on you, the elastic of your panties keeping his hand close as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You bit your lip to keep quiet as he started to move his thumb in slow, tantalizing circles, a small chuckle coming from him as your hips bucked up involuntarily, “Poor baby,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, trying to keep from closing your eyes and just focusing on the pleasure you were receiving. “More,” you beckoned, taking a chance and flickering your eyes over to where he was sitting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was simply enraptured with the film instead of having some sort of anti-staring contest while playing with you on the couch.

Not making any move to change what he was doing, Spencer seemingly ignored you, “You’ll get there, angel. I’ll let you come in a bit.”

With the promise of an orgasm in your near future, you decided you could toughen out the remainder of the film. This would be true if he would do anything but drag his thumb in annoyingly slow circles around your clit.

Resigning yourself to another thirty minutes of torture, you focused back on the screen, where you had definitely missed an important plot point. You had no idea when they ended up underground, “Ah!” You said, clamping your hand over your mouth as Spencer had decided to slip his index finger inside of your cunt, “Fuck, Spence,” you said, voice muffled by your own palm.

“Uncover your mouth,” Spencer told you, too far away to move your hand on his own, “I like to listen to you.”

His words sent your stomach into a flurry of somersaults, only spurred on by the calculated movements of his finger as it slipped deeper into you, knuckle by knuckle, until your warm walls wholly enclosed his finger. “Jesus,” you breathed, moaning as his hand moved, slipping his digit in and out of you with ease.

A strained breath from your boyfriend told you that he was having a hard time holding himself back, but at some point, he had dedicated himself to dragging this out. “You’re doing so well, just keep watching,” he appeased, “the movie’s almost over.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed him until he sunk his finger back into you, using his fingertip to swirl around your inner walls, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mm,” you whined, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He asked knowingly, “You like letting me touch you on the couch? All splayed out and pretty for me?”

Not that you’d ever admit this to him, but you sometimes thought he could make you come just from his words alone. Of course, that information would not be used to your benefit, “Yes,” you answered, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed, “Yeah, baby.”

Spencer hummed and your breath caught in your throat as a second finger slipped inside of you, joining the other one in its crusade to bring you to an orgasm, “That was a good answer.” His words did nothing to slow your racing heart, any thought of the movie was a distant memory as all it did was provide a slight glow around the living room.

Afraid of finishing before the conclusion, you reached down and grabbed Spencer’s wrist as his fingers continued their taunting rhythm, but it felt so good, and he was taking such good care of you, that you couldn’t stop his ministrations.  

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked making note of the way your hand gripped his wrist, continuing his movements when you assured him you were okay, “Oh,” he murmured, voice dripping in mock pity, “Do you wanna come?”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, writhing on the couch as you mumbled an affirmation and gasping when his thumb returned to its home on your clit, resuming the slow circles from before and slowly driving you toward insanity as your orgasm built in your lower belly, “Spence, ‘m gonna…” your voice trailed off as he continued to touch you, the volume of the film rising with your moans.

Not allowing his movements to falter, Spencer focused more of his energy on you, “You can come, baby. It’s alright,” he said, watching you fall apart on his fingers as he rambled on, “There you go, honey.” His fingers slowed to a stop as you caught your breath, just for it to hitch again as his fingers withdrew from your wet heat.

As the world came back into tune, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and looked at the now black screen. Humming, you shifted over to Spencer, settling yourself in his lap, one knee on each side of him, you tilted your head to the side and smiled at him.

“Did you like the movie?” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving back.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw line, “One of my favorites,” you murmured against the soft skin of his neck.

Spencer laughed softly at your answer, “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

Grinning in the dark, you moved your lips up to his ear, “The end.”

[evildilf2]

Hey guys, my friend Ayiko recently got diagnosed with colon cancer and needs help paying for his cancer treatments.

“*grey freeze frame* i’m sure you’re wondering how i got here—and for those of you who don’t know, i’m Ayiko, a 22 year old queer artist and musician. I’ve always been a creative, from theatre to a film major. My dream is to keep creating, to keep telling stories, to keep sharing my art with the world and with your help i’ll be able to continue with what i love, with my passions. On the night of February the 6th, what was thought to be a routine doctor visit for severe stomach pain turned into an in-patient hospital stay. A CT-Scan revealed the source of the pain was from a rare telescoping and entanglement of the intestines, known as Intussusception. After a successful colonoscopy relieved the pain, it also revealed a lump that was removed during the procedure. Further testing by the pathology department discovered that not only was the lump cancerous but there were additional tumors that were inaccessible without open surgery. The cancer had grown into 5cm tumors and had spread to some lymph nodes. On February the 17th i went under the knife(or in this case a laser) for a robotic colectomy to remove the remaining cancer. There was very little risk in it spreading and it was one of the least aggressive cancer of its type(Neuroendocrine Tumor of the Gastrointestinal Tract). After the surgery, i will be unable to lift more than 10 lbs or walk for long periods of time, which has left me unemployed. Now in post-recovery, i gently ask the community to rally behind my family and i as we face the financial burdens of hospital bills. As a first generation immigrant i am also aware of the family back home that my parents have to look after too(in fact my father is going to visit Uganda in less than a week). That’s why we would greatly appreciate donations of any amount, as i continue my recovery and face the possibility of chemotherapy. Just sharing the link can go a long way. Thanks for reading!” -Ayiko @pretty-roach

Currently donations are at 1.2k out of a 20k goal- any & all help is appreciated, please reblog to circulate.

[junesilk]

HIII omg ive been looking for a hxh blog for a WHILE there’s barely any that’s very active😭😭okok so since i’m a kurapika simp could you write headcanons and IF YOU WANTT, a mini scenario of jealous kurapika? hmm if you want an idea it could be smth like the reader has a guy bsf and kura got jealous from the lack of attention :(( THANK YOUU!

JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!

hxh main 4 x fem!reader

characters included: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

i absolutely will, i have always loved jealousy prompts!! i’ve got several of these asks so far, so i’ll just kill multiple birds with one stone and go ahead and put them all together into a list of headcanons

not beta read ☝️

kurapika—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be quiet in the moment, withdrawing himself from the conversation while staying by your side.

You most likely wouldn’t notice it right away because he is naturally a quiet person—

The most he would do is send a glare at the man taking all of your attention away, but other than that he’d avoid conflict.

As soon as you two were alone in a private setting, he would be much more clingy than usual

Which, in of itself would be unusual, as he’s not the type to be so physically attatched.

Perhaps it was his more possessive side coming out to play, but it certainly was new.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

He’d know. Out of all of the main four, he’d pick it up fastest.

If the conversation wasn’t important, he’d find a way to end it quickly, to save you the jealousy.

If it is, he probably wouldn’t speed through it quite as much, but he’d place his hand on the small of your back,

His little way of assuring you he’s all yours.

He’d bring it up once you were alone, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

leorio—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

You’d feel his hand slide around your waist, looking up to see him staring at the other person

It was weird, you’d never seen him like… this!

If he was actively speaking in the conversation, every sentence referring to you would include some form of a pet name.

You could’ve sworn he said the words honey & babe at LEAST seven times

Once at home, he’d remind you who you loved most, pressing kisses to your flushed face.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

Oh boy.

He’d be so proud, honestly. You loved him enough to be jealous? Heart melted.

You’d take his hand, tightly pressing your palms together and squeezing.

It’d take him a while to realize you’d been giving the other girl nasty looks for a few minutes, but once he did, he chuckled.

He’d make an excuse, wave goodbye to the poor girl, and then turn his attention to you.

“Woah, babe. If looks could kill..” He’d joke about it for a while, but in the end, he’d assure you there’s nobody he loves more.

killua—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be extremely mean. Not to you, but to the man you were speaking to.

Killua is naturally really sarcastic, but he takes it to a whole other level.

Scoffing whenever the man made a joke, crossing his arms and looking away when you laugh.

He might use his assassin lineage to scare the other man away, but it’s rare he would need it.

He’s scary enough.

After freaking out the other man to the point where he’d left, he’d flick your forehead and roll his eyes. “That guy was looking at you weird!”

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

You wouldn’t know that he knew.

Not until the day afterwards, when there’s a chocolate robot laying beside your head when you wake up.

It’s his way for apologizing, or just letting you know that he did, in fact, know you were jealous

When asked, he’d shrug it off.

gon—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

Gon’s not the type of person to get jealous.

He simply just doesn’t. It’s not because he doesn’t care for you or anything.

It’s because he’s too busy becoming friends with the new person!

Sure, he may pout if he’s not very interested in the conversation being held, but that’s the most he’d do.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

We’ve all seen the movie.

Gon is oblivious, and remains to be that way unless you flat out tell him.

Feels bad for not realizing it earlier, but once told he tries his best to make it up to you.

He’d take you out on a date the next day, perhaps a picnic or something out in nature.

You can’t stay mad at him. After all, he just doesn’t pick up on these kinds of things very fast.

i hate how this got progressively shorter…… but wtv!!!

[seat-safety-switch]

Trust me when I tell you that I love my local Mexican restaurant, with their molcajetes full of sizzling beef and their extremely inexpensive tacos. There's just one downside: their parking lot kind of sucks. It's one of those narrow 1960s jobs, where you have an exit only on one side, and it's constantly full of food-delivery types blocking the lane so you have to do weird ninety-point turns just to park.

Now, let's get one thing straight: I do not at all care if I get my doors "dinged." A couple years ago, a then-new Acura MDX parked a little close to me, and their kids banged their door into my door. This was enough contact for the rust demon to jump from my Valiant onto their car, and by the time they had returned from the store, their vehicle and its delicious Nipponese steel had been wholly consumed. Only the tires remained. No, I just don't like the inconvenience of having to strongarm-steer my wheezing piece of garbage into this tight lot. Things are bad enough that I've actually thought twice about going to get Mexican food. I know. I can barely believe it myself.

My parents didn't raise me to be someone who gives up easily. In fact, if you ask Child Protective Services, they didn't raise me at all. Television brought me up to idolize heroes like reruns of Clutch Cargo and whatever cool robot toy they wanted to sell that week. And if there's one thing those daring pioneers wouldn't accept, it's a slightly inconvenient parking lot.

What's the easiest way to fix a parking lot with only one exit? By adding another exit. Turns out the city construction workers nearby just keep their keys in the bulldozer, as long as your definition of "in the bulldozer" also includes the site supervisor's locked office inside a fireproof safe that doesn't stand up to the weight of a bulldozer rolling down the hill into it after having its parking brake released. I plowed a neat car-width divot through the nearby sidewalk – take that, walkable neighbourhood – and now the vibe of the entire parking lot had changed for the better.

Unfortunately, I had not counted on the increased traffic that this would bring. All of the city, it seems, was also putting off getting Mexican food. This slight inconvenience factor actually served as a pressure-control valve of sorts. With the floodgates wide open, the place was now crammed stem to stern with hungry rich folks and their conveniently-parked luxury cars 24 hours a day. Let this be a lesson to all of you: never try to make things better.

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)